#they are already the same in different fonts it would be so perfect

[oceantides-and-daffodils]

The most cousins of all-time Cora and Malia never actually meet in canon 💔💔💔😭😭😭👹👹👹😳😳🤨🤨😩😩🥲🥲

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[jgracie]

HOW YOU AND SINGER!LEO VALDEZ CAME TO BE ♡ for giselle ( @pinkdiorluvr ), HEAVILY inspired by dominic fike

masterlist | rules

in which you date america's (self proclaimed) favourite singer

pairing singer!leo valdez x fem!reader

warnings my lack of knowledge on how uni works sorry im only 16 i fear, matty healy reference UNFORTUNATELY iykyk (i hate that man so much guys trust)

on the radio . . . dominic fike's whole discography tbh but i made a small playlist

an listened to dominic fike and made this as a result… lmk if u want more of them 😊

You never thought you’d actually get into your dream university. Well, to be more specific, you never thought you’d get off the waitlist

When you first discovered you got waitlisted, you’d accepted your fate. Sure, you already had tons of merch and had been dreaming of your life in California for years, but not all dreams come true. You chose another school to commit to and began preparing for freshman year of university. Who gets off of waitlists anyway?

Apparently, you. As soon as you got the email confirming your spot, you thanked the heavens and immediately changed your plans, giddily packing all your merchandise and adding to your California themed Pinterest boards

Until you realised you had nowhere to live. None of your friends and family lived in California, and you really didn’t want to live in a dorm after all of the stories you’d heard about communal bathrooms (they’re my biggest fear actually). Unfortunately, it was either that or go apartment hunting and pray you could find a decent apartment that didn’t cost a fortune

Whatever, at least you got into your dream university in the end. Sharing a bathroom with a bunch of other young adults was worth it. After a few days of letting the news properly sink in, you called your childhood best friend Piper to tell her the good news

“Pipes, you won’t believe what happened!” You nearly yelled into your phone, excitedly pacing back and forth in your room. Putting her on speaker, you put your phone down and continued packing your bags

Piper hummed, pretending to think before replying with, “you finally got with a hot rockstar like you insist you will?” You huffed, rolling your eyes - she’d never stop teasing you

“No, even better!” You said, “I got into Jupiter University!”

Cue the squealing. Piper congratulated you a million times over, now pacing in her own room somewhere in Europe or Australia or wherever she was, you could never keep up with that girl’s travels

Your conversation went quiet for a second before Piper connected two very important dots, “wait… that means you’ll be moving to Cali, right?”

“Well, duh, how else am I supposed to get to class on time?” At your confirmation, Piper’s face lit up (not like you’d be able to see it)

“Oh my God, Y/N, this is perfect! I just moved back to California and my dad gave me this giant apartment all to myself, you can live with me!”

Okay, now, you were convinced some God was smiling down on you. You and Piper had toyed with the idea of living together ever since you were pre-teens, but you never thought that fantasy would ever actually come true

You moved in the following week

Living with Piper was a dream. The two of you were the same person in different fonts, so discussing boundaries and house rules was a breeze

As soon as you’d arrived, she took you to all her favourite places in California. Did this result in the two of you spending a disgustingly large amount of money? Maybe! But it was fun, so it didn’t really matter

She also promised to introduce you to all her friends, since she knew a couple people who were also starting at Jupiter University that fall. After much negotiation, you all had settled on meeting at a restaurant nearby in two weeks time, since you still needed to settle

Little did you know, you’d be meeting one of Piper’s friends earlier than the rest

Singer/songwriter Leo Valdez quickly rose in the charts after people fell in love with his unique music and his charming personality. All the hype had fueled his creativity and resulted in him releasing many albums in a very short amount of time

However, after every high comes a writer’s block, which is where Leo was at now. He wanted nothing more than to write and produce new music, but nothing seemed to inspire him - no matter how many walks he took or people he talked to, nothing good seemed to come out of him

His favourite person to mope to about his predicament was none other than Piper Mclean. He and Piper had met at some event his publicist forced him to go to a couple years ago and hit it off immediately, bonding over their dislike for how the industry worked and love of authenticity

So, after nearly breaking his guitar in frustration, Leo decided to pay Piper a surprise visit - 56th time’s the charm!

Meanwhile, you were making yourself a quick breakfast and typing up a quick grocery list. Turns out Piper had only moved back to California a couple days before you called her, so she didn’t have much to eat in her kitchen. You planned to surprise her with a variety of groceries as a little gift for her hospitality

Finishing off your list, you chose something random to watch and began eating your breakfast - well, almost

Before you could get a single bite in, someone loudly knocked on the door, disturbing your peace and causing you to nearly drop your bowl of cereal. You took a deep breath, deciding not to let this stranger ruin your day, and went to see who decided to visit Piper so early in the morning

Leo was expecting an aggravated, half-asleep Piper to open the front door, glaring at him whilst mumbling about him ruining her beauty sleep. Instead, he was met with the girl of his dreams, who looked him up and down before giving him a tentative smile

“Hello,” you said. The guy in front of you was kind of cute - brown curly hair, big brown eyes and a warm aura that radiated off of him. Something about him charmed you instantly

Fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, he said, “Uh, hi… Is Piper home?” Leo wasn’t usually shy, but you were too pretty and it was really early in the morning, he couldn’t help but lose eye contact with you

Moving to the side, you said, “yeah, she’s just asleep, but you can wait if you want.” How could he possibly turn around now?

Leo didn’t have to wait for very long, as Piper’s a very light sleeper. Hearing the conversation happening outside, she rolled out of bed, already knowing who her mystery guest is

“Leo, I see you’ve met my new roommate, Y/N,” she said, stifling a yawn as she made her way to where the two of you were sitting, “Y/N, this is my friend Leo Valdez - before you ask, yes, he’s that Leo. Please don’t feed into his massive ego.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, you didn’t know of any Leo Valdez. Biting your lip, you began recalling all your past conversations with Piper. Various names and stories came up, but no Leo

“Am I supposed to know who he is? Sorry, I can’t remember…” you said hesitantly, hoping he wasn’t that important

For a second, everyone was quiet, then Leo said, “you seriously don’t know? I’m America’s favourite singer! Have you never heard ‘Hey Blondie’ by me? Or ‘Açaí Bowl’?” At your silence and Leo’s exasperation, Piper laughed, which earned her a very nasty glare from America’s favourite singer himself

You shook your head, now feeling bad. You really didn’t want to offend this cute guy on your first meeting, “I’m sorry, but I’ve never listened to any of your music before… I’ll definitely check you out though!”

Leo was just joking with you, but even if he were upset, he couldn’t stay mad at your kind smile and determination to make it up to him. At the same time, he felt a wave of self consciousness wash over him - what if you didn’t like his music? Leo was usually pretty confident in his abilities, but he found himself needing to impress you

Luckily, you were the inspiration he needed to start writing a new album. When Leo got home, the words seemed to flow out of him in just the right way

After that day, Leo started showing up at your’s and Piper’s apartment much more often, except now it was to see you, not Piper. When she asked Leo about the increase in frequency of his visits, Leo made up some excuse about needing you to judge his songs since you were new to his music so your opinions would be less biased

However, Piper knew the truth. Leo was in love. Was that a bit of a bold statement considering he only knew you for a week? Maybe, but anyone who knew Leo knew that when he fell, he fell hard

You were charmed by Leo too. As the days progressed and summer leaves turned brown, you and Leo got closer and closer. You began going over to his apartment every once in a while, or hanging out at parks and cafes, all under the excuse of needing to help with his songs

Just like the leaves, Leo’s songs began to shift. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t help but write songs about you - you were on the forefront of his mind. Leo was enamoured by your bright eyes and kindhearted nature, it was only natural for him to begin writing songs about you

So, he embraced it. It was now nearing the one year anniversary of when the two of you met, so why not confess? If there was one thing Leo learnt from all the mistakes he made during his teen years, it was that there wasn’t much point in hiding things

However, he was Leo Valdez, the bad boy supreme himself, which meant he couldn’t just tell you outright. No, this had to be a special confession for a very special girl

Luckily, Leo was a pro at special confessions!

“Promise me you won’t listen to the album until the show, Y/N. I need you to get the authentic Valdez experience!” Leo told you over the phone. It was the night before the release of his new album and, to celebrate, Leo decided to host a quick and small show only a few minutes from where you lived - one you had front row tickets to

You thought this was a bit of a strange request but obliged, knowing how much this meant to Leo. At some point during his album-making journey, he started consulting you less. When you’d asked why, he said he wanted some of the songs on the album to be a surprise, which was fair enough, so you didn’t pry

Leo wasn’t lying: he did want some of the songs to be a surprise. Why? Well, because they were about you. Never in his life did Leo Valdez think he’d be writing love songs like the ones he wrote about you, especially after the horrible experience he had with his ex, Callie (wink wink)

When the night of the show came along, you and Piper got dressed and headed to the venue, matching VIP lanyards around your necks. You were really hoping to see Leo before the show and wish him luck, but Piper explained that Leo had his own special rituals to do before the show started so you weren’t going to see him. Oh well, you’d texted him a good luck message beforehand anyway

Leo rarely ever got nervous whenever he’d perform - he was used to it, after all. However, as he made his way onto the stage, his heart was beating the quickest and loudest it ever had. He scanned the crowds for your familiar head of hair, but unfortunately couldn’t spot you. However, he knew you were definitely out there

There’s no time better than the present. The crowd went silent as the first song started. The strumming of a guitar filled the venue, followed by a voice that wasn’t Leo’s

The song begun with a snippet of a voice message he’d received from you: “Fine, Leo, you’re so lucky I love you,” followed by a few giggles

Your eyes widened and at that moment, Leo finally saw you. As he looked into your eyes, everyone else disappeared. It was almost as if a show full of his biggest fans had turned into another afternoon spent in your room - you doing assignments while he played his guitar

“This is for you, I love you too,” he said, giving you a wink before beginning to sing

The rest of the concert was a blur. Was the album fantastic? Absolutely, it was one of the best you’d ever listened to. Unfortunately, you were too busy replaying that moment from the beginning of the show to be fully listening

You couldn’t believe Leo actually liked you back. You also couldn’t believe he liked you so much he was willing to announce it to the world - even though there were only a few people at his impromptu concert, the news would spread like wildfire

Somehow, you made it through the entire show without passing out. While everyone else proceeded to file out of the venue, you (and Piper) stayed behind. This conversation couldn’t wait a second longer than it already had

The security didn’t fight you as you made your way backstage, where Leo was busy tinkering with his instruments. Seeing him there as he hummed the tune of one of the songs he wrote just for you, you were filled to the brim with nothing but pure love

Piper stayed behind and watched as you ran to Leo, pulling him out of the trance his guitar pick had on him

“Hey,” he said, a goofy smile which matched yours making its way onto his face as you gave him what might’ve been the tightest hug he ever received. Leo breathed in the familiar scent of your shampoo and waited for you to pull away before saying, “I’m assuming you liked the show?”

Excitedly, you exclaimed, “liked it? Leo, I loved it! I’ve never seen anything like it!” While Leo was happy you enjoyed his concert, he still wasn’t satisfied. He needed you to acknowledge the opening song

The two of you stared at each other silently, waiting for the other to bring that up, both of you too nervous to say anything. Luckily, Piper wasn’t nervous

“Oh my God, guys, just say you’re in love with each other already!” She said, her voice cutting through the tension and allowing you to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You smiled at her then turned to Leo, your smile growing at the mere sight of him

Cupping his face, you said, “I love you more, Valdez.”

[glassrowboat]

Can You Trust Me Blind? Dottore.

Summary: Dottore brings a woman home for the night.

Warnings: Smut, blood, Dottore

Word count: 2,100+

Hair twirled around his finger, spinning round and round in circles the same way Dottore would take his own bangs as they slipped out of the multitude of clips and pins he tried to use to wrangle them up and out of the way, only for those two strands to inevitably fall in his face again. It was annoying. A hassle dealing with it as he tried to scrawl out notes between the blue stands blocking his vision, but the locks in his hand seemed far easier to tame as he played with them.

Soft, well taken care of, and a complete mess as it sprawled out across the pillowcase. It wouldn't be a surprise if there was a knot or two jumbled up in there.

His fault, of course.

Dottore was the one who slid his hands into her hair, tangled his fingers in it like he was grasping at a knitted scarf being slowly wrapped around someone in the dead of winter as he tugged her head back. The length of her neck exposed without a hint of shame. A perfect canvas. Just like snow after it fell, painting the world anew.

Every footstep tainting the pure landscape that went on for miles.

To taint. To mar. To ruin.

The scent of perfume had overwhelmed his senses at the time, even had Dottore halting for a moment to burry his nose into her collarbone where she had no doubt dabbed it before heading out for the night. Flowery, feminine, with a faint hint of vanilla to it that was quickly masked over by iron.

Red on his teeth, on her neck, on the sheets below as he rocked into her.

A scream filled his ears.

This wasn't like him, taking a woman back home, let alone to his bed. It had to have been over seventy- maybe even eighty- years since Dottore had gone off and done something as stupid as this. Breaking all rules of common sense (something he had once considered to be a good friend of his) and welcoming her in with little to no trepidation even as the door slammed behind her.

She had looked around curiously, eyes going over the place like she was trying to suck in every last detail of the liminal space. He never was one who bothered with decorations, so there wasn't much to recall. Maybe a photo here, a trinket there, or a jar full of something no one truly wanted to question Dottore about. Nothing out of the usual for him. However, it was nice to see someone showing such a good trait, a healthy one in this wretched world, rather than glancing back at the door like they were already having second thoughts.

She wouldn't have even been the first if that were the case.

This woman had spent a good hour by his side before his sudden...impulse. Yes, that was a good way to put it, he thought as the strands of hair fell from Dottore's fingers.

One of Pantalone's parties Dottore had only agreed to go to because the banker had stuck his foot down and demanded that he come and talk to possible sponsors for the lab himself rather than having the Ninth do all the lip service. A shame, truly, seeing as that's what the man was best at. Might as well do what you're good for in this world. That's how Dottore saw it, anyway.

He had stumbled across this one along the way.

Dottore had been grumbling to himself about having to deal with it all, especially after having to explain the current project he was working on in a way that could only be explained at a kindergarten level of intelligence for the third time as this oaf of a man kept asking the same question in different ways (like changing the font would give it meaning anew), when she had made a snide remark as he passed by.

“I'm sure your little friend there is the type to attempt putting a square peg in a round hole.”

And oh, he couldn't have agreed more.

She wasn't a sponsor herself, or hadn't seemed to be one. Actually, she waved off most of Dottore's questions about her with what could only be described as practiced ease, instead choosing to fixate on his earring. Eyes locked on the thing as she tried to figure out what was in it. Making a guessing game of it. Primordial water? Sap from the leylines? Ligma? Gatorade? …Whatever that is.

However, she proved to be preferential company over the people who were better off waving their wallets in the air than even attempting to listen to his grandiose ideas. Not even the jingling of mora in hefty sacks had been able to keep him from sharing a glass of whiskey with her. The sound of ice clinking against glass and her voice proved to be far more entertaining.

Digs at Pantalone's ‘friends’ as the banker liked to call them, making fun of their outfits (mainly on her end), and insulting their intelligence proved her to be a great way to spend the otherwise dull evening.

Decent company.

That's all it was.

That's all it was supposed to be, even as she toyed with his earring like she had any right to. Blue light reflecting off her skin.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

Somehow, that hour passed by like it was nothing but a handful of seconds.

Somehow, he leaned in and kissed her as she was making another remark. Something about a Lord this or that ‘needing to let go of the fact he's bald, because we can all tell he's wearing a toupee’ when he could taste the drink on her painted lips.

Just like he could still taste her blood.

She had said right after “I don't think that shade is your color” with a laugh as her thumb brushed over his bottom lip. No doubt trying to smudge the lipstick off.

Dottore couldn't even recall his retort, no doubt he gave one, but right now his mind was running the same scene that just happened on his bed on loop rather than bothering to remember his own words. If it was truly important, he'd no doubt recall them later. After this film in his head stopped reeling, or the tape itself broke from overuse.

Thighs wrapped around his waist, squeezing him tight between soft flesh he couldn't help but worry about bruising under his touch that was urging him closer and closer as Dottore filled her to the brim. Her nails dragging along his back. Hisses of both pain and pleasure bubbling in Dottore's throat as he slowly stilled.

Her moans bordered on pornagraphic as this woman apparently had no issue being loud. Much less in his space of all things.

Their kisses as she tugged him closer. Rushed, frenzied, even when he wanted to take a step back, a big breath, and truly savor this moment as her dress slid off and onto the floor.

It all reeled back to when Dottore stood before her with the cravat he usually wore in hand.

Blue fabric hanging in between them as he pinched it softly.

The reason he didn't even get the chance to see her eyes roll back into her head from pleasure alone.

Dottore was the one who slid it off his neck. Untying it the same way he did every night after being enraptured by his research for days on end before coming home and crashing into bed. A practice so well memorized he could do so with his eyes closed. Ironic, being he was the one to ask to blindfold her.

Half of a sentence was spoken before she just stopped to stare at the cloth. Eyes darted from him and back down to it in a repeated cycle until Dottore had asked the question again.

Louder that time.

Clearer.

Leaving no room for doubt.

“Is this something you're willing to do?”

She had stumbled over herself as she got out an “okay” and “yes.”

That had to be the least sure of herself he had seen her all night.

She hadn't moved much as Dottore slid the cloth over her eyes, only reaching her hand up to rest on his arm, fingers playing with one of the leather bands on his arm as he tied it in place. Like it made it easier to take her mind off the fact she was, quite literally, going into this blind as he made sure to double, even triple, check it wouldn't budge. Not easily, at least.

But still, she let him do it.

A neat bow sealing the deal.

The idea to joke she was like a gift quickly passed as her hand fell back down as the sound of Dottore's mask being placed on the nightstand filled the otherwise quiet space. A soft, subtle click. Only their breathing and that. Echoing as if it were pans clanging against each other.

“Is that why you wanted me blin-”

“Yes.”

What she was going to ask was obvious. After all, if he was in her shoes, Dottore very well would have done the same. Asked questions. Pried into matters that don't concern him.

Red eyes had bore down on her, blue cloth covering away the chance of seeing her looking up at him with the possibility of fear crossing her face.

No panicked looks. Not this time.

It was better this way, he learned. Less chance of someone seeing the scars that plague his skin and….this was why he typically preferred doing this with someone he already knew.

Someone who already knew what to expect from him, who wouldn't suck in a sharp breath as Dottore's hand slid along the curve of her waist to reach behind and tug the zipper of that dress down for her. The little tag between bare fingers as she spoke up again.

Good, she wasn't trusting him blindly.

Maybe she was smarter than he thought, but that doesn't say much when she's in his bed.

“You know, people usually go for biting and scratching instead of something like this when hooking up with what's essentially a total stranger.”

“Yet you agreed. Why?”

“I'm already here, am I not? Would be a real shame to blueball the both of us.”

How crude, but he couldn't help but to agree as Dottore pressed a kiss to her lips even while chuckling against her skin.

And another as he slid his tongue over her lips and pushed her down onto the bed. A small grunt came from her as her back hit the mattress. The zipper already tugged down as she tried to shimy the dress off even as the mattress creaked under her with every move. Old springs that needed to be dealt with.

At the time, he had wanted to promise not to hurt her, not in a way she wouldn't enjoy, anyhow, but now she lay beside him clearly passed out. She has been for the past two hours, thirty-four minutes, and forty-three seconds now. Her back to him. Moonlight peeking in through the window, leaving dust participles visible in the otherwise dark space as the beams shone down on her skin. Lighting up the tiniest bits of blood as bright as an apple seeped through the bandage he placed on her neck after she fell asleep.

All the more visible like this.

He couldn't help but trace his fingers over the cotton.

She really just let some stranger, a harbinger, him of all people no less, do that to her. To feel her pulse under his lips and still dare to break skin. To leave her in the dark as his hands wondered.

Either this girl was incredibly stupid or had no self-preservation instincts.

Maybe both.

Dottore couldn't say he would be surprised either way. She sure did seem like the type that could go either way. Laying there like nothing was wrong even as he reached over her and picked up his mask again. Cold in his hands with material a familiar weight before it slid out of his fingers again as he set it back down on the table.

For now, this woman was asleep. For now, he wouldn't have to worry about her reaction to what lay under that mask. The scarred man she chose to tumble into bed with. So, for now, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

The scent of flowers, vanilla, and blood filling his nose.

He didn't understand this woman in many ways. A bit of a flirt, one who thought it far too entertaining to crack jokes, and who seemed all the willing to listen as he rambled on.

She stopped and listened to him.

And all Dottore could ask himself with this information was: what sort of woman was she that she would choose to lay with a monster?

[no-name-publishing]

Tiny Book? Tiny Book. Pt1.

Idk yall I just felt like writing a little how-to of how-I-do my tiny A9 books! So if you've ever been interested, I hope this will be helpful. This will be neither a beginner typesetting nor beginner bookbinding tutorial; as I go through my process I will only be showing my process and providing a few tips, assuming you already have the basics understood. We can worry about the rougher technical skills in another post.

Also keep in mind that this guide includes images of fic I've bound, and you're zooming into these fics at your own discretion. I am not responsible if you read something yucky. I know you have a lot of options out there but thank you for flying No-Name Publishing.

Tiny books part 2; Tiny books part 3

Just like with regular ficbinding, there are layers, and they are:

1 - Typesetting and Imposing 2 - Printing 3 - Cutting, Folding, and Sewing 4 - Gluing, Rounding/Backing, Endbands 5 - Building the Case and casing in 6 - BOOK

In this part we will be focusing on steps 1 and 2. Please feel free to skip to the area you're interested in most.

1 - Typesetting and Imposing

Okay, so this area has some nuances that you don't have to consider so closely with typesetting for more traditionally sized books. To me, these tiny books are not about readability, they are about novelty. As such, I do not prioritize readability. Instead, I try to achieve something that is closer to scale. That said, neither do I want these illegible. But we'll begin from the top.

You want to make a tiny book, but you're wondering, what would be an appropriate word count for a tiny book? Tiny books are the perfect medium for the ficlettes, the shorties, the one-shots. They are also perfect for the mid-sized, 10-15-20k fics, in my opinion. Here we can see,

On the left we have a fic that is exactly 12,771 words, typeset on a 1.5" x 2" (37 × 52 mm) document, with .3" margins, 6pt Garamond font, and 5pt line spacing. This book is only approaching 1/2" (13mm) wide, and only took 5 sheets of Letter paper to print. On the right we have a fic that is exactly 1,939 words, typeset to the same specifications. This book is only 4-5mm wide, and took only 1 sheet of Letter paper.

In my opinion this format of book begins getting unruly around the 300-page mark. However, making any combination of margins, fonts size, and line spacing will yield different page results for different word counts. For example:

Like the above, in each of these examples I typeset in Garamond font @ 6pt size and 5pt line spacing. Typesetting on an A9 page, this is about as small as I felt comfortable sizing my font while still being legible. But notice the rivers between the words--the rivers of white space bisecting the lines, due to the Justified alignment battling the admittedly tiny work surface. At this scale, with the font at this size and alignment, those will be unavoidable. Over time I began disliking this in my own work, so I pursued a different method, which was typesetting on a quarter letter page (4.25" x 5.5" / 108mm x 140mm), and allowing my imposer to scale the PDF down.

Have you ever seen anything sexier. THIS looks like a tiny book. Little to no rivers, still legible (hand-wobble), and preserves the novelty feel that I desire from a tiny book. This method of scaling down (specifically from quarter letter to A9) does change the final shape of the book, from A9 to A9-ish in this case. Specifically, from 1.5"X2" (37 × 52 mm) to 1.625"X2" (41.3mmX52mm). You're achieving something closer to a square shape, which is delightful to hold. All this to say, you have some freedom with word count, with font size, with page size. I've done as many pages as 376 and as few as 17. The fantastic thing about tiny books--their structure will not be load-bearing, meaning--the only thing stopping you are your tastes.

Quickly, some more examples of features in a regularly sized typeset and their tiny counterpart after the imposer has scaled them down. First, scaling half-letter down to A9, a little-over 4X shrinkage:

And from B6 to B9, smaller by 3x:

You notice the compression of every element, and too how entirely unparcable the text in the first example is, sometimes not horrible, sometimes very. Make your decisions dependent on your tastes!

You have decided on the fic you'd like to bind into a tiny book. I will be using my own fic as the typesetting example, and I will be using Word 365 for PC. I'm sure many of my pointers during this process might not apply 1-to-1 if you are using a different word processing software, but hopefully you can adapt the concepts to your program of your choosing.

Kay, next you will do your typesetting. Since this is not a typesetting guide I'm trusting that you have your preferred methods, but I will go through my key steps for setting up a tiny typeset:

First, for every typeset I delete each default Style, create mine own, and dictate the document size. For this example I will be doing my preferred quarter letter method, setting the custom page size to 4.25" wide and 5.5" tall, and .5" page margins all around (except Gutter; leave 0"). On the Multiple pages dropdown I will select Mirror margins (however, as all my margins are the same size, this is redundant, though may not be the case for you). My body text style will be Cardo font @ 11pt size and Exactly 15pt line spacing, with a .2" first line indent and Justified alignment.

You can use whatever body font you like, I only encourage you to do many many test prints to refine your preferences. Your favorite font for half-letter books might not translate to tiny books. After ~30 tiny books I've found I like Cardo at this size and spacing. And if you're using A-paper sizes, consider doing quarter A4 instead of quarter letter, which is technically A6--4.1"X5.8", or 105mmX148mm. Follow your heart~~nyah 🐱♥

Now I will go to my fic and download the HTML file. I hugely prefer copying from the HTML file rather than the browser itself. It kind of standardizes any goofy formatting that might try to make its way over otherwise, while still preserving the italics and bolds, etc, and makes for an easier editing process. It was important I made my body Style in Word first, so that once I paste the text into my document that Style is automatically applied in one fell swoop (if not, you can change that in your Word settings. Advanced -> Cut, copy and paste -> Merge Formatting. It is a huge time saver.)

Now you've gone through your typesetting process, you have a liddle quarter letter Word document that you're happy with. Gets real close to you. Listen to me--listen, you're going to Export as PDF. Not Save As PDF. Not Print to PDF. Export. It's in--listen--it's in File, then Export, then Create PDF/XPS. You need to Export. Especially if you selected Bookfold instead of Mirror margins in your page settings because we need an unimposed PDF in order for this to work right and exporting to PDF is going to solve 99% of your pdf formatting woes with Word. Okay, I love you 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Now, your EXPORTED pdf should look something like mine. Straight, unimposed.

Now what we're going to do is take this PDF back to my penthouse and freak it. Go to this link for the Renegade Bindery-created and -curated imposition tool. This has been will be is such an incredible FREE asset to you, maintained by a crew of intelligent, skilled Renegade Bindery members who understand the importance of community and accessibility. If you find someone hiding this link behind a paywall of any kind it is not with the creators' permission, so shame on them.

Anyway I will be assuming that you know what imposing your document means. If you've never used this site before, it's very straight forward, and here are my settings for making Tiny Books.

1 - Upload your unimposed exported pdf. 2 - ignore 3 - Select the paper size you will be printing on. This is not the FINAL size of the book, this is what paper you are printing on. These instructions are for Letter sized paper. Don't change any of the other settings right now, I will explain more about the Single-sided vs Duplex option in a bit. 4 - Skip aaalllll the way down to Signature Format. Under Wacky Small Layouts, click on the bubble next to Little. You'll notice there are a lot of options here. I encourage you to play with these settings later on as well, there are so many things you can make with this tool.

Once that's done, scroll down to the very bottom. You'll see the Signature Info area, telling you the results of your imposition. In the case of using the Little option we've selected, 1 sheet of our paper will make 40 book pages. 3-signature-sets of 3/3/4 folio configuration. That's a lot of pages per page.

Anyway for our document today it will cost us 2 sheets of Letter paper, and will make 6 signatures. Math says that's 80 pages. Now, you may be concerned because your typeset PDF is not formatted in a number equally divisible by 40. And why would it be. The imposer is doing that math for you in the background, organizing your pages regardless. In my case, my finished typeset is 62 pages, which means that from my second page, I will only be using my 3 folio segments, and discarding the 4 folio segment. This will make more sense later. Click the Generate button, and save the zipped folder wherever you want. Don't change the name of it.

Unzip that baby, and inside you'll notice 2 files--(filename).pdf_little_packed_backs, and .pdf_little_packed_fronts. Appropriately named as one file contains one side of the sheet that will be printed, and the other file the other side.

And when you open them up, they will look like:

2 - Printing

We are manually duplexing this bad boy, because working at this scale amplifies and compounds every millimeter of difference. Manual duplexing will keep printer skew to a minimum, as the printer will not have to perform gymnastics in order to print on the reverse side of your page. Here are some examples:

Two auto-duplexing examples of skew, one horizontal and one vertical, dependent on which direction my paper was loaded into the feeder. There is significant skew. Not a horrible issue on full-sized books but these will matter much more on our tiny books, the key issue being that we do not have much to work with in the margins department. Trimming 5-6-7mm of margins of your half-letter sized textblocks might not be much of an issue; however, here, in order to remove all the trim lines during the cutting process, you will be significantly impacting the margins of your tiny textblock.

Now here is an example of the skew from manual duplexing:

MUCH subtler. Your skew with manual duplexing will range from this--less than .5mm--to no skew at all, and you will have to cut off far less of each page to remove the trim lines, maintaining the consistency of appearance of your tiny, beautiful pages. This is why during step 3 of the imposing process we selected Single-sided (which is MANUAL duplexing), and not Duplex (which is AUTO duplexing) appropriately. This will result in you either getting two files for manual duplexing, or one auto duplexing file.

Your next consideration when it comes to printing your liddle book will be whether you want to use an inkjet printer or a laser printer. I've until recently only had a laser printer available to me. I can say after about 6 or 7 little books on an inkjet printer that I prefer the laser printing on tiny books. Here is an example of why:

On the left you have a tiny book printed from an inkjet printer printed on the highest quality setting, and on the right is a tiny book printed from a laser printer. These were both printed at the same scaling, same font size, same line spacing, everything. The inkjet printer, printing at this scale, introduces pretty glaring feathering on the letters, whereas the laser printer is crisp as can be. I've said before that to me tiny books are more for novelty rather than readability, however I do still want to make out the word I'm looking at, you know what I mean? For this reason I prefer printing my tiny books from a laser printer. Use what you got though, you'll get a tiny book regardless. Make sure you're flipping on the short edge with these tiny books too, and double check to make sure your page numbers line up. And when you're done you got...

BOOK(-adjacent).

Continue on to part duex.

[inkybinkyboink]

"all the marauders died", "they all got murdered", "but peter betrayed everyone", "they're straight anyways"

SHUT UP.

BEACH EPISODE HEADCANONS

i've no doubt in my mind that this has already been written somewhere just in a different font but im high off of river water and algae right now so call me freddy mercury the lead singer of hit 70's band Queen because Don't Stop Me Now.

james is the one that organized it and man like lobbied for this okay

he waited MONTHS for everyone to have a day off at the same time and he took it and RAN

and lucky for him, it's the perfect day. it's a sunny, hot day in the middle of august, the clouds are simply beautiful, but it's still nice and sunny like i mean perfect

don't ask how, i don't know, but i think it would be really funny if james drove a minivan. mom drives a minivan and he picks everyone up

peter has to be shotgun because he gets mad carsick

james also tries so fucking hard to bring snacks for everyone but he forgets that sirius is allergic to nuts and half of the food he brings has nuts in it

just hear me out okay i think it would be really funny if big bad sirius black was allergic to peanuts

sirius would also be the one to dress the most unconventional for the beach and then whine about being uncomfortable the entire time.

remus and peter are certified Staying on the Beach™ boys. peter because he's scared of the sea and remus because he's still got cuts that are healing and he'd really rather not literally put salt on an open wound

sirius also burns like paper and is too stubborn to put on sunscreen

remus likes finding stones to skip, though

"i'll stay here and guard the snacks" -peter pettigrew

if there's a dock or something james is jumping off of it without hesitation

he gets into a diving competition with sirius to see who can make the biggest splash which ends when they jump into each other while diving into the water

finding seashells 🤝 remus lupin

peter would fall asleep in the sun and they would all absolutely bury him up to his neck in sand

they pester remus for bringing a fucking book to the beach

i mean this so sincerely and honestly with the most love and adoration in mind but the way james potter turns into a fucking 5 year old boy at the beach is insane

"guys watch me do a flip", "look, i can do a hand-stand in the water", "dude that wave was totally a shark fin", "do you think if i drank an entire redbull i could swim across the atlantic?", "i can totally see the coast of canada from here

james and sirius definitely have yet another competition to see who can hold their breath for longer.

on at least one occasion remus has to drag sirius out of the water because he might as well be fucking drowning and remus is the only one who has first aid training

the drive home is silent because everyone's asleep except for james who now realized it would have been way easier to just use magic transport and is now suffering the consequences of his own actions

prize for most sunburnt goes to sirius

prize for best sandcastle goes to peter

prize for most seaworthy goes to james

prize for best seashell collector goes to remus

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

[zhoras-bitch]

The more I think about it, the more I realise why the revelations in this chapter hit Tyril as hard as they did. Because as I was reading the chapter, sure, I understood his reactions, even though I though he was being slightly unreasonable (a dick). But if you stop to really think about it from his point of view it just becomes so much worse?

What he thought of as a literal personification of evil itself and spent his whole life hating and fighting, what he killed over is actually... okay. Not good or bad, just morally neutral. Just there. A force of nature, like gravity or something.

Moreover, what he fought in the name of, what he devoted himself too, the absolute good he believed in, is also a morally neutral entity and is for all intents and purposes the same as the 'evil'. Just in a slightly different font.

The deities he worshiped, whom he looked up to with awe, to whom he prayed in moments of despair or when looking for guidance are just... a bunch of dead (?) guys. And they weren't even particularly nice guys. They were actually kind of shitty.

Those guys did create his entire race though. Made up a bunch of dumb and actually harmful rules for them to follow that outright crippled his people (forced them to use Light only that took years of their lives, killing who knows how many elves prematurely), and groomed those people to thank them for that. To worship the ground they walked on because it stroked their egos or something.

Honestly, I feel kind of icky even typing this out. Imagine how dirty, violated and angry a person would feel if that were to happen to them.

From this point of view, his comments about elvish pride and superiority come off more as desperate attempts to cling onto what's left of his dignity and failing. He's not just disappointed in elves as a community; Tyril already kind of went over that. It's one thing to learn your family/country/community are not perfect, that the system is flawed and that there are good and bad people there just like everywhere else... And another to realise that your entire worldview, your morals, everything you ever did, everything you thought you were, every aspect of it was all a lie. And it was deliberate.

[coffeeailee]

hey miss ailee! nice blog you have here ^^

anywho, may i request your general headcanons for ranpo x reader? please tell me if you require more info! thank you and have fun writing! <3

happy sugary love.

chars . Edogawa ranpo x GN! Reader

fandom . bungo stray dogs

romance / fluff ? . romance

warning . cringe, that's it. cringe.

When you fall in love with ranpo, he can immediately tell the way your eyes look at him, it's already enough for him to know how you feel about him. Yet, he doesn't say anything about it, he was quite unsure what to say about you...

As you develop your feelings more, Ranpo eventually starts to develop feelings for you as well. If you're observant enough, it's pretty obvious by him sharing his snacks with you and pretty much more, everyone in the armed detective agency can see that both of you are clearly in love with each other, even the oblivious one can tell. It was really obvious.

If you ever wanted to find someone to solve a mission along with you, Ranpo WOULD immediately jump and give you a thousand reasons why he's the best person to go on a mission along with you, if you however did reject his offer ... He wouldn't really be happy, and was going to have a pouty face all day while sitting on his chair and looked even more annoyed when someone called for him.

If you did accept, you wouldn't be the one who's doing your mission. He will be the one who's doing your mission instead, Even if you insist he actually genuinely gives zero shit. He doesn't want you to be tired at all! Why bother being tired when the world's greatest detective is here by your side?

Anyways, usually after you two finished the mission. Ranpo would force make you go to a candy store with him to share the candy together!, and perhaps an ice cream would work too... Whatever, he just wants to eat something sweet along with you by his side. That's the perfect reward for the world's greatest detective.

After a while, you finally confessed to ranpo !, gosh ranpo was really disappointed you didn't confess early enough, but it's okay. He forgives you since he likes you as well! you two would start to be assigned to the same mission so you two could always be together no matter what, ranpo was the one who requested it, as long you're with him, he'll do whatever fukuzawa told him to do.

he would show you different snacks that you've never tried before and smile brightly as he shows you each different snacks you've never seen or try, not only does he get to eat snacks, he also gets to eat snacks with you!

Overall, your date is usually going to a store that has sweets or eat snacks in the park, or maybe going to a festival if there happens to have one. Ranpo is definitely the best person if you happen to like sweets as well, plus he's the one who's going to do YOUR mission! not you!, you wouldn't be tired as long as the world's greatest detective is here by your side!

note I : It feels really weird writing this, i wanted to add more but I ran out of ideas .. i apologize if it's really short. I was actually hesitant to post this one... But I managed to force myself to post this publicly. I also think I added too much bold onto the text.. sorry I'm obsessed with the bold on the font 😔

[aiura-stan]

0-6!

(If you’re wondering how I’m getting these done so fast, it’s because I’m doing these ahead of time. I'm running on a queue.) I used dictation and actual keyboard typing for this one, so it’s going to be long. (Side note, I love the ability to dictate things and using split screen mode! Highly useful features and I have no idea why it’s taken me this long to actually use them.) Also, I guess I should say that there will be spoilers in this and probably future posts too, because I’ve already read the manga. Okay! Onto the commentary.

I love that Saiki outright states he doesn't want to be the "guy you know what he's thinking.” Like, come on Saiki, admit it; you have a little bit in common with Kaidou. (I think he secretly kind of likes freaking people out. He definitely likes the fact that people are a little scared of him.)

He's always the odd one out; He's one of the loner kids. I don't think he really thinks it makes him look normal. I think that's just what he tells himself to feel better about the whole thing.

I think it's funny that he dislikes Kaidou for the same reasons that he thinks he's so different from everyone else. I mean, Kaidou is always trying to stand out, and Saiki does have a legitimate reason for not wanting to stand out. But even so. He’s just got it in his head that is so much better than Kaidou at the beginning of the series. Like, dude, you're no different from him. You're the same breed of weirdo in a different font. Lol. That font is “really intentionally manipulating others’ perception of you for personal reasons.” It’s just that Kaidou’s version is much flashier than yours. I like seeing it this early on in the comic; it's interesting to see how it all started. Also, Kaidou is a lot more polite than Nendou, apologizing for talking to Saiki out of nowhere. Amusing. He absolutely knows how to behave like a normal person, but chooses not to because his persona gives him confidence.

I also like that here in the beginning of the comic, we have an unnamed guy who is was basically parroting what Kuuusuke says further on in the comic, and it’s more clearly framed as delusional weirdo behavior.

Yes, duh, he came to you because you were alone, Saiki. Weirdo behavior attracts weirdos (weirdos attract weirdos.) That's just a basic social law for ya.

Also, I laughed out loud at “okay, I’m calling you Junpei.” good response, honestly. Saiki’s narrative commentary addressed to no one in particular is always really funny.

He also seems to be egging him on in the next panel with his sarcastic remarks (wow. Your punch was soooo fast I couldn’t see it at all), though it’s never clear in this manga whether the person being spoken about can actually hear anything he’s saying in all of its dry sarcasm. My headcanon follows the lines that Saiki uses hypnosis when he’s not actively addressing them (sending telepathic messages to them), so people just hear whatever they want to hear from him. Or something like that. I’m guessing that we, the readers, are supposed to assume that they can’t hear him unless Saiki is actively sending them telepathic messages/‘broadcasts’. "I fancy you" is a strangely British way of putting it. Which also means "I like-like you" if memory serves. Translators??? strange. anyways.

Ah… XD. I forgot that Kaidou saw him teleport in the manga. That’s perfect considering Kaidou’s name joke (shunkaidou = teleportation.) wahh, I wish this one came in the tankobon volumes so I could read them.

You know… since the third chapter of this volume was adapted into the anime, can volume 0 really be called non-canon? Maybe to the manga. Hmmmmmm.

Oh come on. Why didn’t they put this in the anime??? It would have been hilarious to have Kaidou imagining some kind of green monster-humanoid hybrid and then the screen transitions to Saiki’s expressionless face, with pink limiters and green glasses. There’s an element of color that manga sadly lacks. I get the point with the black arrows, Mr. Asou, but it just isn’t quite the same without actual color.

XD Asou’s attention to detail is good. We actually see the teacher wondering where the hell he’s going when he runs out of the room, and then following through showing that he won’t be running students down just to make sure they stay in class. It’s a small thing, but it definitely makes a difference, making the Saikiverse seem a bit more realistic.

Also, look, it’s this guy who appears a bajillion chapters later in that weird gag… What was his name again? Gah… refer back to this later, future me.

Yes, Kaidou becomes a completely different person outside of his riddiculous chunnibyou persona, which he only uses at school. I do like that Asou sensei writes him this way. It would be easier to have him be in character all the time, but he’s much more realistic like this. I love that Saiki remembers the stupid nickname he gave himself. It makes the contrast even more funny. Okay, I’ll stop analyzing Kaidou and explaining every joke for now.

XD XD XD

Things like this make me wonder if Saiki really doesn’t know that’s how his looks might be interpreted at a distance… even though he understood from the verbal description that he could be perceived as having “pink horns” and “green eyes.” And he spaces out in class just thinking about it. Thoroughly neurodivergent behavior.

I also love things like this, that imply but don’t outright show that Nendou just… openly teleports in front of Nendou because he can get away with it.

I also enjoy Saiki’s stubbornness in calling Kaidou ‘Junpei.’ Peak comedy.

I love that Kaidou would rather Saiki think he has multiple personalities instead of just being polite to people outside of school. And Saiki says he appreciates the effort… lol. I think he does actually appreciate it, in a way, sarcasm aside. Kaidou is committed to the bit.

“Whether that’s true or not, you need to get to a hospital.” Lollll. But also… makes me wonder if he really believes it, again. That along with the “Kaidou personality chart” further on in this comic. From Saiki’s other confrontations with people who clearly need help (including the one where he talks down a suicidal guy. And of course Terushashi’s brother.) It’s as if it never even occurred to saiki to have a sense of urgency about these kinds of things.

Mmmm! Once again I wish I had the Japanese version because I’m sure he is using polite speech here, for a minute.

Well, at least Kaidou acknowledges here that he’s in fact a chunni and therefore doing this on purpose. Which, again, makes me wonder why Saiki would ever believe even for a second that it isn’t an intentional thing. Or maybe it’s just supposed to be taken as sarcasm outright, but the panel where Saiki is confused about the Horns Saiki drawing really is throwing me off. Another thing I should look for raws of, to see if there’s anything to be gleaned from the OG text.

YES! You and saiki are pretty similar. In a way. Yes, he is worrying about his high school debut… in a way.

Saiki, it is entirely understandable that you think Kaidou is an egomaniac, but given his “other personality,” how did you not guess that he’s just lonely??? He literally had to explain his entire thought process for you to get it??? Yeah, emotional EQ in the single digits.

Earlier, I said Kaidou knew full well how to act like a normal person and just doesn’t do it, but he’s definitely awkward. I mean, of course it’s going to be awkward asking strangers if they’ve seen a guy with green eyes, sharp teeth and horns. (I am not quite sure why Kaidou is so committed to the bit myself.)

LMAO?!?

Saiki, that’s your own goddamned fault, lmao. Put your money where your mouth is and shut him down if you’re tired of annoying people “entering your life”… :)

That wraps up 0-6.

There’s a lot going on here, to be sure. In conclusion, I think Saiki works really well here as a character who is technically omniscient, in terms of perspective, but deeply limited in his ability to interpret information.

Alright, the end. Ja mata! 💫

[sullina]

hey

are you someone who would like to write but can't seem to get started? Despite being at no loss of ideas?

Here's a tip. Especially for your first work and especially the first draft.

forget originality

that sounds mean now, but listen: every concept imaginable has been done by someone before. There will always be unoriginal concepts in every single work.

But that doesn't make these concepts bad

Because what actually matters is how you use them.

So if you're trying to write something, one of the best first steps you can take is probably just getting laid out what you want to write. Like, what concepts do you want in your work? What things did you like from other works? What characters from other works do you like, and why?

For your very first draft, when you're just starting out, it's perfectly fine to borrow building blocks from others.

Because here's a little secret: unless you're copying one single media word for word, those building blocks will rarely look the same after you've written down your idea and trying to fit everything together.

it's 100% fair to take concepts from other works and use them in your own writing. Because over the course of actually writing your own story, you will also make those borrowed concepts your own.

Sure, it's been done before...

but no one's done it like you yet.

And here's a second tip: if an idea you had or concept you like doesn't work for the thing you're writing anymore, it's okay to let go.

You don't have to throw it out completely, but maybe put it on the shelf for now. Once you're further along with your writing, you might just see the perfect opportunity to reintroduce it in a new way.

I wouldn't call myself an experienced writer just yet, but if there's one thing I've learned already, it's that crafting a story is NOT a straight line. There's bumps and sometimes you go in circles, and then there might be a point where you have an absolute genius idea or you realize that something you already wrote is an amazing setup for this next thing.

So it's not linear. At all. But you have to keep going.

Not everything you write is gonna make it into the final work, but it's still important that you write it. Because you can't make a thing without going through the process of making it. Fails and dropped ideas are as much part of this process as every success and genius idea.

And one final tip for you. Choose a medium to write in that you actively like doing, and doing a lot. By this i mean: writing on your computer is convenient for sure, but it's not the only way to write.

I've found that I fucking love writing by hand with a fountain pen, and it's something that I can do for hours at a time. And don't get me wrong, I do like typing on a computer and I'm not half bad at it, but going back to fix typos? Super annoying. it's fine if I'm making a short tumblr post like this (though i probably have a different definition of "short" than most people), but the outline of my current work in progress is almost 80 pages now. if that were digital, it would probably be more like... 40 pages or something, depending on the font and size, but my point is that digital typing, while convenient, is also annoying to me, personally.

And, ironically, also too quick. I like to think as I write and with digital typing, i have to focus too much on actually typing, but when I'm handwriting, i don't have that problem. I can go relatively quick and it's not like I don't make typos while handwriting, but crossing out one letter and putting the correct one over it is much faster than having to backspace and re-write an entire word (I could use the arrow keys but like. who has the damn time. too fiddly.)

My point here is not that digital writing is terrible and sucks, my point is that if you're gonna write, then you're gonna be doing the action of writing a whole damn lot, so make sure you can do it as comfortably as possible. For me, that's handwriting, for you, it might not be.

...if there's anyone who WILL spring for handwriting though, let me give you one final piece of advice: it might be wise to not go for pretty notebooks, for fear of "ruining" them. I knew this from myself already, so i instead went for regular notebooks, the kind that i used to use for school. The paper is good quality and the fountain pen that I have feels so nice when writing on it. You might think "but that's just small stuff!" and yeah it is, but small stuff can quickly become very very big stuff if it's building up over months or years.

[dominantslasherking]

Patrick Bateman with Dominant Male S/o

Author's Note: The lack of Patrick Bateman fics is insane, this man is too fine to be left alone, just rewatched psycho and I'm ready to write for this fine man once more!

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+.

Backstory: Patrick realizes how much he thinks you are much more perfect then him, he's practically obsessing over you, and if he can't be you, he wants to be with you.

"Jean, why is [Name] standing outside my door, and why didn't you bother telling me he was coming beforehand?!" Patrick tapped his finger on his desk, looking at his assistant with clear annoyance, if he knew you were coming he would have got ready to look his best, well better than he already looked, was a hair on his head may be out of place-??

Before Patrick could continue his conflicting thoughts, You entered, giving Patrick a smile that caught his breath away, that he almost forgot to breathe for a second.

"[Name].." God he loved the way your name just rolled out of his mouth, "Patrick..." Your husky voice teasingly spoke out, causing shivers down the slasher's back.

"At the meeting today you left your business card.." You uttered out, showing him his own business card as he inhaled and tried to stop the smirk from coming onto his face. His plan of getting you here was nearly perfect, other than the lack of notification beforehand.

"It's really, neat looking really, I was wondering if I could..." You paused for a moment, walking closer as you leaned over his desk and stared at him intently, "Maybe, have it." You finished off, noticing how Patrick's eyes roamed your body with a lustful gaze.

His gaze wasn't like the rest, his gaze wasn't as if he was staring at some common whore he could pick up, his gaze was intense and full of possessiveness as well as a tint of obsession.

"Of course, but I would expect yours in return." Patrick smiled at you his eyes retracting away from your towering body which was casting a shadow over him as you were the only one he could and wanted to look at. He stared at your face with a smile.

Suddenly you pulled out your card, instead of the typical white texture and black yet neat formatting, your card was a black texture and the font was red-lined with a gold outline.

Patrick could only take it in his hands in awe, and he thought his co-worker's cards were impressive, but yours was definitely different, it made people are drawn to it because of its mysterious and different style, no wonder you were in the big leagues and made much more money than everybody else.

Not only were you handsome, but you were also keen with your eyes and intelligent. However even Patrick himself knew, you would be weak with him, you were so easy to manipulate because you also had your guard down around him and only him.

Patrick, however, was the same, most time in meetings he would get lost in your voice, your body motion, and practically everything.

"A date, please don't beat around the bush, I know you can't resist it." Patrick suddenly blurted out. Jean standing by the door stricken with confusion and jealousy.

You let out a laugh, "Alright, I'll be the one arranging everything and paying, however..." You responded Patrick urked at your goodwill and the handsome smile you gave him.

Patrick suddenly realized how focused you were on his face, not to mention you kept staring at his lips. It excited Patrick to see your lustful gaze on him.

"Are you perhaps having a business meeting?!" Jean suddenly questioned no longer able to hold in her jealousy that her boss was getting so close with someone other than her.

Rolling his eyes towards Jean, Patrick was utmostly annoyed at her voice, he wanted to focus on you and your own husky voice, but he has this babbling bitch in his ear disrupting his thoughts on you. Gosh, he just wanted to bash her face repeatedly into the wall to get her to shut up.

"No." Patrick coldly responded staring at her outfit with distaste, "What did I tell you about wearing such shitty clothes? Get out I can't stand the sight of you." He growled out, touching his forehead in annoyance, watching as Jean gulped down her response and scurried out.

Your breath hitched as you stared at Patrick, it was hot to see him get all feisty, but you knew, you always knew something was off about Patrick, you could see right through him, it thrilled you, excited you.

You knew Patrick felt the same, however, what he felt was more twisted and disturbed, his obsession was only growing as he spent more time with you.

Once Patrick Bateman finally has you in his grasp, he is never letting go.

[kaondecay]

Thinking again about why Knives would send Wolfwood, Specifically, to travel with Vash. I’ve had thoughts before about his intention for Wolfwood to betray Vash and break his spirit etc, but why choose ww out of all the goons at his disposal? Literally all he knows about this guy is that he’s assumed the identity of Chapel from the Eye of Michael, and that he tried to kill Knives in a vulnerable moment, but ultimately caved under Knives’s power. Why would he keep doing what Knives wants, rather than siding with Vash against him?

I think Knives’s mistake here is rooted in the same big flaws that drive the rest of his behavior:

1. Disbelief in humans’ capacity for change, and

2. Conflating himself with All Plant-kind.

For starters, I think he sees Wolfwood as basically Midvalley in a different font. To be fair, there are definitely parallels! They’re both deadly assassins with cynical attitudes, they both *want* to kill Knives but don’t stand a chance against him, so they grudgingly choose to serve him if it means they get to cling to life for a little longer. Knives thinks he has ww figured out immediately, just another brutish human, no need to look deeper.

(Sidebar: I don’t think Knives knows about the orphanage? It’s possible he’s seen the real Chapel in person before, and knows Wolfwood isn’t him, but details like “where is the Eye of Michael getting all these child soldiers from” are just so boring to him. He has Legato to keep track of that shit, why would he bother with it? So he’s already overlooking the biggest difference between Midvalley and Wolfwood: Wolfwood has something to fight for beyond his own survival.)

So Knives thinks he has Wolfwood’s motivations all figured out: clearly, he saw what went down in the fifth moon incident, realized that unshackled Plants could wipe out humanity on a whim, and decided to eliminate the threat so that humans could keep subjugating the sister Plants with no consequences.

…He’s not *100%* wrong there, either, but it straight-up does not occur to Knives that someone might have beef with him personally, for reasons that have nothing to do with Plant liberation and everything to do with how he runs his organization. Obviously Wolfwood just Hates Plants™️, and therefore will also hate Vash because Vash is a Plant too!

So it makes sense that Knives would see Wolfwood as the perfect candidate for the Judas role. The fact that he took Chapel’s place means he must be pretty good at lying and backstabbing already; it’ll be easy for him to fake his way into poor naïve little Vash’s good graces. Since he also Hates Plants™️, which is a fundamental personality trait that nothing can ever ever change, he’ll be happy to drop the facade the minute he’s allowed to, and Vash will be so crushed when he realizes how stupid he’s been this whole time. Wolfwood might even have so much pent-up frustration from playing nice for so long, that he’ll try to kill Vash, and then Knives can kill *him* and prove once and for all that he’s the only person on this godforsaken planet that Vash can really trust! And Vash will break down and apologize and together they can finally cleanse the universe of the human plague. All according to keikaku 🙂

(It did not go according to keikaku 🤡)

[squishmallow36]

Hello everyone! I'm coming in with a Garwin Day update in 70% more words than strictly necessary. If you haven't seen the official press release poster, here it is for your viewing pleasure.

I stated there that details regarding the T-shirt contest would be released closer to the date, and today I'm making good on that particular promise.

On Thursday, March 28, I encourage everyone interested to submit your t-shirt design to the #garwin day 2024 tag and/or tag @arson-anarchy-death and me in your post. You can make as many as you would like, but please designate only one to be entered into judging.

Whomever submits the t-shirt design that is the most Garwin--the guidelines for which are a black box algorithm that will not be disclosed due to its proprietary nature--will be deemed the Gar-winner and recieve:

Bragging rights for all eternity

A rejection letter from Yale

An art request which I will attempt to fulfill in a reasonable amount of time OR a fic request that can be fulfilled in a thousand words or less

There are a couple of different methods enumerated under the cut, along with certain supplementals if you're like me and not very good at this whole art thing. These will not be judging categories--everyone is in the same boat--but the numbered list is nice to my brain.

Questions, comments, concerns? Please send me an ask! There's a good chance I haven't thought of every single edge case, so let me know if there's anything I can help to clarify.

1. The first option is the classic 'just draw the whole thing'. If you were already planning Garwin art before this announcement, feel free to eliminate two stones with one bird in that artwork; make sure the t-shirt is readable enough for judging purposes. Anything and everything else is fair game. (Both digital and traditional accepted)

2. Option two: DTYIS (Garwin templates provided below). Anything from full DTYIS to a screenshot that is drawn upon (however MS paint-looking that may end up being) falls into this bullet point.

3. If MS paint isn't the style you have in mind and you'd rather not spend the next three days perfecting your font-writing skills, I have the solution for you. I created the above Garwin template with this customink tshirt as a guide. This allows for both easier photoshopping if you would like to paste it onto the Garwin template or the ability to simply submit screenshots of your customink design.

The only method I'm going to discourage is finding a picture of a t-shirt on the internet and submitting that as your contest entry. Feel free to browse the internet for inspiration and even recreate shirts found there, whether it be by your own hands or in customink, just make sure that some of your own work has gone into making your final submission.

[toxinoire]

Okay so due to major boredom, waiting for the Miraculous World Special, absolutely emotionally dead over the fact that Miraculous season 6 won't be out for who knows how long and my dumbass thinking it was a good idea to rewatch the final ep of Supergirl and absolutely falling back into Supercorp, have a crossover of The Love Square and Supercorp. As incorrect quotes of course, I haven't written an actual crossover au.

...

Yet.

~~~~~

(Let's pretend that all this is post reveal for MLB yeah?)

Supergirl: I can fly high enough that If I drop a rock in from the stratosphere it could break the ground.

Chat Noir: *gasp* I wanna see that!

Supergirl: Or you could try it! You have that suit power up that makes you fly!

Chat Noir: *more gasping* YEAH! I COULD-

Ladybug: NO!

Lena: NO!

Ladybug: Fuck no!

Lena: Absolutely not!

Supergirl and Chat Noir: But-

Lena and Ladybug: no

~~~~~~

Kara: So this boy, who would literally follow you to the end of the universe, had called you "just a friend" more than you can count?

Marinette: Yep. It drove our friends nuts.

Marinette: And me too, so...yeah.

Adrien: You're not gonna let that go are you?

Marinette: Nope.

Adrien: Didn't you partner zone me?

Marinette:

Marinette: I did, didn't I?

Lena: So...

Lena: So basically, you two rejected each other...for each other? When even was your first kiss?

Marinette: During Adrien's flight to London-

Adrien, at the same time: Our date as Marinette and Chat Noir-

Adrien and Marinette: What???

Marinette: Wait, wasn't it during Oblivio?

Adrien: We don't remember that at all.

Marinette: Okay then-...Dark Cupid?

Adrien: I don't remember that!

Marinette: Then when was it-

Adrien: I don't know-

Lena:

Kara:

Lena:

Kara:

Kara: Oh that is complicated...

~~~~~~

Adrien: How is it like dating an alien?

Adrien: Because like, she appears human but she isn't. So how does that work?

Lena: Adrien...

Lena: Aren't you made from a feather?

Kara: I feel like it's more he is a feather.

Lena: Ah, right. And you appear human, but you aren't.

Kara: Yeah, how does that work?

Adrien:

Marinette: Yeah so spending time with you two was a bad choice.

~~~~~~

(Fighting a villain)

Supergirl: Crap, we have to get there but the path is blocked.

Lena: We need to distract them.

Ladybug: *glances at her Lucky Charm that is a bottle of perfume* Oh I know! Chat, can you-

Chat Noir, already putting opening Spotify and playing Careless Whisper: *jumps in the middle of the warzone*

Supergirl:

Lena:

Ladybug: Perfect. Now I need you two to drop that pilar on them and-

Lena: Is this how you two normally operate?

Ladybug: Well yeah and then there's me using whatever I get from the Lucky Charm to win with the laws of physics and Chat Noir's cataclysm.

Supergirl: And you win?

Ladybug: Yeah.

Lena:

Supergirl: How-

~~~~~~~

Kara: Hey! What did you think of Marinette and Adrien?

Alex: Those two...

Alex: Are the jumpiest most traumatized pair of 14 year olds I've ever fucking seen. It's like they're war veterans.

Lena: They kind of are war veterans.

(Meanwhile)

Marinette: Alya, how'd meeting Kara and Lena go?

Adrien: What did you think of them?

Alya: They are literally just you two except they're adults, both women, use technology, have siblings and only one of them had a secret identity.

Alya: Seriously, a smart human who has access to magical shit and a non human blonde who both saved the world, almost lost each other, dated other people before one another, make a great team and severely traumatized? It's literally you two in a different font.

~~~~~~~

Kara: Marinette, control your cat! He stole my food!

Adrien: I took one potsticker!

Kara: Still stealing!

Adrien: It is not!

Kara: Yes it is! What if I just took your pastries?!

Adrien: Hey! These are from my girlfriend!

Kara: Those potstickers were also from my girlfriend!

Marinette:

Lena:

Marinette: Wanna see how I made the contraption I used to hide Miracle Box among my things?

Lena: Oh absolutely.

~~~~~~

Lena: Oh, Nia. I see you've met Marinette and Adrien.

Nia: I have.

Kara: So what did you th-

Nia: Can we keep them? Please?

Supercorp: What-

Nia: I seriously vibe with Adrien's puns and Marinette is so fricking creative and I relate to her awkwardness.

Nia: Please can we keep them?

~~~~~

Lena: You...attempted to cataclysm your classmate for hurting Marinette? I mean, get mad and yell sure, but cataclysm?

Adrien: Yes. I do not regret that one bit.

Adrien: Besides, cataclysm doesn't kill, it just gives you excruciating pain that you'd wish you were dead.

Lena: What the fuck-

(Meanwhile)

Marinette: So you just dropped the plane with the toxic chemicals, not even bothering to check if you were flying over a population or not, and just took your fucking chances so you could save Lena?

Kara: Yeah. I'd do it again.

Marinette: But what if she hadn't made the jump?

Kara: I'd drop the plane and catch her.

Marinette: What if you were flying over a population?

Kara: Still dropping the plane.

Marinette: Okay then-

[taylortruther]

The theatrical name of TTPD, along with the added context of the bizzare and frankly very unserious song titles gives me the vibes that a large part of this album is about to be satirical.

What cements this theory in my mind is that "Tortured Mens Club" group chat reference...like the concept of an edgy and pseudo tortured artist is a very famous genre of human...and dare I say Joe fits perfectly into that mould.

We're talking about Mr "your integrity makes me seem small" here, it would be very bold to assume that Joe didn't walk around brandishing his "deeper and more complex" persona to put Taylor down for being "superficial and inferior".

Ofc these are all only assumptions because I don't know Joe Pisces Alwyn personally, but it just reminds me of Taylor's dynamic with Jake and how he acted like he was more intellectual and important as compared to her. I still vividly recall that one anon long back who drew direct parallels between TTPD and Red and yeah... you know Taylor hates a pretentious boy (to be sung in the tune of London Boy). Joe and Jake are essentially the same person in different fonts.

Satirizing the idea of a tortured poet like Joe seemed to be, especially that one lyric "Am I allowed to cry?" makes me think he considered his problems to be greater than her, kind of like one of those dudes that listen to super emo music and go "you just won't get it" when you share your own music taste with them.

Idk, just my two cents. This album could potentially be very IBYTAM coded (but make it depressing).

i hear y'all that the chat name might be an influence, but a "tortured artist" is already a well-known stereotype (which the group chat is referencing.) there is an expectation that to be an artist you must be damaged, sad, misunderstood, twisted, tortured; it's one that taylor and critics of taylor have wondered: would she be able write when she's in love? (implying that her pain would go away with love, btw, "as if i'd be saved by the perfect kiss"!)

so yeah i think there is some edge and bite to these titles, because i do not think taylor is calling herself a tortured poet in all seriousness. i think she will discuss her mental health in even more straightforward terms than before, and also the pain of her last relationship, but there will also be other themes... i mean, no taylor album is "just" about the relationship, it's about her own self-reflection.

i think ibytam is actually a really big-brain influence and i'm kinda digging it personally. ibytam, yoyok, midnight rain are all coming to mind here.