Hello and Welcome!! I will primarily be writing fanfics for things that I’ll list below, with the occasional random story. I do have OC’s, and I will be introducing them one by one - absolutely feel free to ask any questions about them! I’m going to go through some rules here, as well as my master post that I’ll link all my work on.
Master Post
Rules:
ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS
I am not always going to have NSFW on my blog, but I plan on it eventually. Along with that I will be writing about darker themes, and just don’t want to interact with younger people. I don’t care how mature you think you are, non-18+ or ageless blogs will be blocked immediately.
I will be writing and uploading at my own pace, which may be slow.
I work and am a college student, so I am fairly busy. I also write somewhat slowly naturally, mostly due to forgetfulness or writer’s anxiety. Please be understanding that I will probably not be the most timely publisher on Tumblr.
I reserve the ability to deny any request or comments.
I don’t have too many hard no’s when it comes to writing, but if, for any reason, I do not feel comfortable writing something I simply Will Not.
About the Writer:
I am in my 20’s, and I use she/her pronouns - you can just call me butters :)
I love all things horror and disturbing things, and you can expect those themes in my writing.
I am (technically) in college, but not taking any classes atm
Feel free to drop in an ask or a comment, either on my work, my OC’s, or just to chat! I am more of a quiet person, but trust me when I say that I want to hear from y’all!
What I write for:
Genshin Impact (male and females, no character x character but anything else)
Obey Me! (male and females, no character x character, otherwise all food!)
Slashers (I haven't seen every slasher movie out there, but I will try my best!)
Monster High (again, males and females and x reader only)
Requests are: OPEN!
Matchups are: OPEN!
That’s all for now - I hope you find something you like here! Much love <3
“how to recognize AI in fanfic” — hey so this is another not-gentle reminder that AI stole from us. it’s using OUR words and OUR sentences and OUR styles.
writing “long” paragraphs is not a sign of AI — it’s a common narrative choice many writers make both in fanfiction and in traditionally published novels, and AI stole it from us.
using an em dash is not a sign of AI. it’s a stylistic sentence choice that’s been an option in place of commas and semicolons for a very long time, and AI stole it from us.
long sentence structures are not a sign of AI, but are yet another stylistic choice writers often make to create a cadence and tone that mimics the flow of poetry, and AI stole it from us.
“YA narrative breaks”? i don’t even know what the fuck this means, but i can guarantee that AI stole it from us.
italics are once again a stylistic choice that many writers love to use to create emphasis, and it’s a more stylistically acceptable and traditional form of emphasis than bold or underline text. oh, and just to be extra clear: AI STOLE IT FROM US.
stop creating fandom witch hunts over AI when you know fuck all about what it means to sit and write a story, and to spend hours fiddling with sentence structure and dialogue to get the exact right tone. writers will stop writing out of fear that their work “sounds like AI” — IT DOESNT! AI STOLE FROM US! AI SOUNDS LIKE US! — and after a while, all that will be available on AO3 is shitty AI-generated fanfiction.
because yeah, people are going to continue to use AI to write fanfiction whether you “call them out” or not. but making a laughable thread on X that uses asinine criteria is not going to fix that problem. it will just push the real writers out because people will accuse them of using AI when they haven’t, and they will (rightfully) stop writing for spaces that attack them.
I can definitively prove that every single "marker" of AI has been present in my writing since the year of our Lord nineteen fucking ninety seven. Fuck AI.
I did say that I'd be slower to post things, but I promise I didn't intend to be quite this slow
I'll be trying my best to upload more, even if it's just short stories. If you ever sent me a request that I didn't get to, I am so sorry - please, send a new one in and I'll get to it within a day or two!! I promise!!
I've added Obey Me to my fandom list, so all characters from there are available for any and all requests :3
If anyone does see this, thank you for waiting. I'm so sorry again, but hopefully this will be a new era of this blog! I'm super excited to meet y'all :333
It started with a pencil, and it ended with a tree limb.
Well, that's not true. It really started with a test. A pop quiz on the first day at your new school, your worn backpack forgotten in the backseat of your dad's pick up.
You didn't know anybody here. Not beyond the forced introduction your teacher made you do at the beginning of the class, and so, here you sat, staring blankly at the piece of paper, too shy to ask anyone for a pencil.
It was already well into the middle of the school year, with seating established, leaving you to sit all the way in the back of the classroom, far, far away from the teacher's desk, and far, far away from any hope of asking to borrow one of hers.
Your feet fidget with the hole forming at the bottom of your shoe as you chew a sore into your cheek, eyes locked onto the paper.
You were one of only two students who sat all the way in the back row, the other being a quiet young boy in a strange, scary mask, who didn't even bother to look up at you when you made the long descent to his row.
He still hasn't looked at you, his pencil slowly scraping against his paper, still caught on the first few questions while the rest of the kids were almost halfway through the test.
Your small hands trace the underside of the desk until they find a slight splinter in the wood. An idea strikes your head as you look to the left, then to the right, watching your teacher carefully as your nail scratches the splinter, picking and pulling until you finally manage to pop a considerable piece off.
You don't notice the little boy's brown eyes peeking over his mask, watching you use the splinter to attempt and mark the bubbles on the test.
You look up at the sound of footsteps approaching your desk, and much to your surprise, you're met with the sight of that creepy mask looming down at you.
He stands awkwardly in front of your desk, his movements stiff and methodical as he holds his hand out, his only pencil sitting proudly in his dirty palm.
His dark eyes bore into you from above, just a little too wide as they peak through brown curls.
You hesitate, but reach up, gratefully accepting his offer.
"Thomas!" Your teacher's sharp voice suddenly snaps across the classroom, a little too harshly, making both of you jump. "Sit down!"
He shuffles his dirty shoes that look two sizes too small and hangs his head, silently going back to his desk.
You watch him sit quietly at his desk, staring down at his hands for the remainder of the test.
You plan to return it as soon as you're done, but you barely finish the last question in time, and the teacher rushes the students out for recess so she can grade the tests.
You lose him in the crowd of children rushing towards the playground, and before you can find him, one of the girls from your class rushes up to you.
"My name's Jenny. You're new here, aren't you?" Her thick southern accent drawls out like the heat of the sun as she squints in the light, her pretty pink dress somehow already stained with red dirt.
You nod and introduce yourself, your quest to return the pencil momentarily forgotten.
"Me and Johnny Rae are gonna play house under the slides, you wanna come?" She points to the two yellow slides across the play ground, pale and worn from decades of sitting under the Texas sun, "You can be the baby."
"Okay..." You nod, following Jenny to the slides.
"Hey!" A little boy with bright blond hair pops out from under the slides as you approach, his scowl over-exaggerated as he points to you, "*She* ain't allowed here."
"Yes, she is! She's our baby!" Jenny yells back despite their close proximity, crossing her arms defiantly.
"Nu-uh! Kay-lynn is our baby!" The little boy yells back, pointing to another little girl under the slides.
"Johnny Rae, you dummy! I told you I was gonna go get us a baby!" Jenny stomps her foot, scattering the sand under her feet.
You look around the playground as the two argue, squinting your eyes against the harsh Texas sun, watching the rest of the children play in their own groups.
Everyone except Thomas, that is. His strange mask pokes out like a sore thumb as he sits alone by the fence, playing with a stick and some mud.
You stand there awkwardly, watching him play alone, your agreement to play with Jenny keeping you rooted in place.
He notices your staring and shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, digging the stick a little deeper into the mud.
A couple of boys seem to notice the silent interaction and decide to egg it on, beginning to whoop and holler at Thomas, accusing him of having a crush on you.
You take a step closer as you notice the boys cornering him, but at the same time their teasing begins to start, Jenny's arguement seems to end, and she grabs you by the arm, pulling you under the slides.
You can't see him anymore from the new spot you've found yourself in, but the game takes your mind off of it pretty easily. After all, it was just some harmless teasing. If it got any worse, the teachers would surely step in...
Right?
Sitting back in your desk, your eyes are glued to the new bruises on Thomas' arm. He doesn't even seem to acknowledge them, as if this was somehow normal.
You never once heard a teacher intervene, not even the one who was so quick to scold him for standing up during a test.
The pencil he gave you sits tight in your fist as a wave of unfamiliar feelings fill your chest.
He was weird, yes. He hadn't spoken a single word the whole time you'd been here. He was awkward and stiff, seeming out of place wherever he went.
But he was also kind enough to give the new student his one and only pencil, and expected nothing in return. Not even the same kindess he so generously offered.
Those facts made your stomach churn in a way you had never felt before. It was angry, and volatile; Climbing into your chest like bile, stirring and burning uncomfortably.
You're silent for the rest of the day, stewing in it even as the bell rings and you stand outside the school, waiting for someone to come pick you up.
It's your aunt's truck that pulls up in front of you, kicking up dust and dirt into the dry Texas air. The metal is hot against your hand as you yank the passenger door open, crawling into the burning leather seat, pulling the door shut behind you.
"Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day?" Your aunt asks, pulling out of the school.
You shrug, looking out the window, watching dust fly as she pulls onto the highway.
"What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?" She pulls out a cigarette, rolling her window down just a crack before she lights it.
You shift a little, looking down at your feet, your legs not quite long enough to reach the floor comfortably.
"...The kids are kind of mean." You finally mutter.
"What? Some brat's already picking on you?"
You shake your head again, "...Not me. There's this boy at school... They hit him, an' the teachers let 'em."
"Well, I'll tell you how to handle that..." She coughs through an exhale of smoke, one hand on the steering wheel as she turns to you, "...Next time those lil' bastards start to whoopin' on him, you get the biggest limb you can find, and you knock the fire out of 'em."
You laugh a little, nodding, "Okay."
Your aunt smiles at your laugh, unaware of how seriously you've taken her words.
That is, until the next day, when she has to show up to the school in place for your dad, whose stuck at work and unable to come in and talk to the principal.
She finds you sitting on the bench outside of the office with three boys.
Thomas sits on one end, with you directly beside him, while the other two boys sit on the opposite end of the bench, looking disheveled and upset.
Your aunt doesn't get a chance to ask you what happened before the principal motions her inside, shutting the door behind them so y'all can't listen in on grown folk conversation.
The two boys at the other end are muttering amongst themselves, glaring at the two of you like you were the cause of every bad thing in the world.
You sit firmly beside Thomas, fidgeting with your hands and kicking your feet as you wait dor your aunt to come back out.
Thomas keeps his head down, looking guilty, as if he had swung the stick himself.
As the two of you sit quietly, you reach into your pocket, pulling out the pencil he had given you yesterday.
He looks surpised to see it, nervous eyes fixed on it, stealing glances at you as if he wasn't allowed to look at you directly.
He mimics your actions from the previous day, hesitant as he reaches out, taking the pencil from your hand.
"...I like your mask." You speak quietly, finally putting words to your silent interaction.
His free hand reaches up, touching his mask as if he has forgotten it was there.
"Did you make it yourself?"
He nods, a flush painting the top of his cheeks you can see.
"You did a really good job." You give him a thumbs up, "Do you wanna be friends?"
He nods, and scoots even closer to you, his side pressing into yours.
So, maybe it didn't start with a pencil. And maybe the tree limb was just the beginning.
But as you listen to the creak of the old porch swing, moving methodically under your weight, Thomas' foot gently pushing the two of you back and forth...
Maybe, you think, Maybe it doesn't matter what started it, or how it will end.
Maybe what matters is the steady beat of his heart against your ear, soothing and real; Easing your mind more than any lullaby or breathing exercise could.
Maybe it's the warmth of his body under yours, chasing away the nip of a cool winter breeze dancing around the two of you, lying in peaceful bliss under the December sun.
Maybe... Just maybe, this moment was the only thing that mattered after all.
Hiii!!! If it isn't to much trouble may I have (male) romantic genshin matchup please. My pronouns are she/her. I tend to be shy around new people but I can be somewhat loud with people who im close to. My height is 5'0. I would describe my aesthetic as girly/soft/cottegecore, lots of long dresses and skirts.
Im not very athletic and im not a big fan of sports but I love to go roller and ice skating. I also love to read books and to also cook and bake food. I also like to garden. I've been playing the violin for 7-ish years. I love animals. I am currently studying in college. I like to Watch nature/animal documentaries. I also like sweets.
Somethings I dislike are people who bend or ruin my books and people who speak over me when im trying to talk.I love music, I can listen to any genre and like it but my favorites are indie,bedroom pop and classic rock. sorry if i spelt anything wrong. Hope im not bothering you:)
I match you with…
Kazuha and Tighnari!
I know it’s somewhat obvious to choose the two nature/animal boys, but here’s why I chose these two!
Kazuha -
He would absolutely never interrupt you when you’re speaking- he loves when you get talkative, since that means you trust him enough to come out of your shell!
Something else he loves hearing is you play! I can totally imagine you two playing together to the wind, letting the breeze take the music into the night sky.
Going roller or ice skating with him would be both very fun and slightly chaotic. I think Kazuha would get the hang of it fairly quickly (after a few falls), but once he does he’s absolutely killing it.
(He’d use his vision to give you a little boost of speed, maybe causing you to fall over. He’d be mostly sorry.)
On the fashion side, I think he’d actually really like the longer skirts and dresses - I mean, they flow so beautifully in the wind! Imagine if he would send small gusts of it and make your skirt fly just ever so slightly, letting you know he was nearby.
Hazuha’s been a vagrant for most of his life, so having someone do things like cook homemade meals for him would melt his heart. If he has to travel, he’d find bento boxes and little treats in his bag, reminding him that he finally has a home to go back to. <3
Tighnari -
Another person that would never speak over you. Tighnari is respectful and considerate, even outside of being your lover. He values your opinions and what you have to say - it’s hard being the top forest ranger, so your input is invaluable.
Obviously, gardening with Tighnari is an absolute given. He’ll use his vision to help with plant growth, and his extensive knowledge on flora to help teach you how to be the best plant nanny there ever was! He’d be so proud when they start to bloom - the flowers becoming a testament of your dedication and love.
Tighnari would be okay with you not being super athletic - he’d teach you some simple things that would help with living in a forest, but he understands that not everyone likes to be sporty. Someone needs to watch over home base and take care of it while he’s gone, after all.
Obviously, living in the forest comes with living with nature and all of its creatures. You’d be living in your best Disney princess era by befriending animals big and small, and Tighnari would fall in love more and more each time he’d see it.
Staying hydrated and nourished during expeditions is crucial for him and his team, so he’d really appreciate your cooking skills! Making lunches and field snacks for the crew while they’re away would mean the world to him.
(His crew would relentlessly make fun of the fact that every time he eats something you made, he can’t stop his tail from wagging.)
Tighnari would be the kind of partner to be honestly interested in what you’ve done that day, and use that information to do things like give you top-tier gifts. He’d ask you what you’ve read recently and research how to best store books so they stay in mint condition. Same with violin - the forest can get humid and rainy, so he’d find a way to keep your instrument working perfectly in any weather.
(I can also see Collei bonding with you over certain books and love for animals! Seeing you two get along makes his day every time - you’re like a little family together.)
A/N: You are absolutely not bothering me!! This was my first request so I really hope you enjoy your results - of course, this is just my opinion from a small amount of knowledge about you, so don’t take it super seriously ofc! Thank you for your request :]
I’ve always loved doing match-ups from other blogs, so I thought it would be fun to do them myself! I’ll put some suggestions of what to include below as well what fandoms I’m currently matching for.
Matching for:
Slashers, Genshin Impact, Obey Me! (males and females, adults only)
What to include in your ask:
Preferred gender of match-up character
Type of match-up (platonic, romantic, yandere, ect.)
Physical description (as much or as little as you want, you can omit this as well)
Interests and skills
Dreams or wishes you have
What you look for in a partner
Your personal traits - the good and the not-so-good!
Anything else you want to include! The more the better - and there’s no judgment here <3
Content Warnings - Stalking , mentions of suicide, murder (duh), uuuh michael myers is a warning alone lol
Notes - Minors DNI PLEASE, fluff but also murder, SFW, no specific pronouns or gendered terms used :))
Eyes of the devil.
Black, soulless voids behind them, devoid of all humanity.
Ever since he was transferred to the Sanitarium, Michael has been referred to and treated as a being of pure evil - a blight upon this world. How would Dr. Loomis react now, to the situation Michael finds himself in?
A body lies in his house, in his bed, and for once it hasn’t gone cold, the heat of life still flowing through it.
You.
Sick as all hell, writhing in pain as whatever illness you have beats you into a pained, sluggish version of your normal self.
Michael stands aside the bed, making no movement.
He watches you, for a while - rolling back and forth occasionally, groaning in pain all the while.
When you finally become aware enough to notice that you aren't alone, you look up to his mask and give a meek smile. Michael isn't a comforting person, he never learned how to be or even received any himself, but something in you knows that this is his attempt at it.
"You don't have to stand here, you know."
You get no response.
A few seconds of silence pass as you close your eyes, letting out a slow, shallow breath.
"This will pass, it might take a bit longer since you don't have any medicine in the cabinets, but I'll be just fine soon enough..." You trail off.
You are once again met with silence.
It doesn't take too long for you to succumb to the exhaustion and fall asleep, your body being completely drained from fighting off this virus. You don't know how long Michael stayed there, or if he even was there after you finished talking - for such a big body, he's incredibly quiet.
Unbeknownst to you, he stayed, unmoving, for a good half an hour after you drifted off.
He was planning on going out tonight - a frat house down the street has been too rowdy lately, and losing a few members would likely get them to quiet down (you had been bothered by the noise lately, but that isn’t why he’s going for them) But leaving you here alone, sick and in pain seemed to hurt his cold heart.
Why?
If you posed an obstacle for him and his goals, he really should just kill you. You two have been together for a few months now, in a sort of problem-and-problem-enabler type situation - you provided him a place to stay at your half-used apartment, food, and company (an attempt at it, at least), and Michael provided with a sense of safety as your behind-the-scenes guard dog, and an odd sense of pride knowing you’ve, to an extent, tamed the beast terrorizing Haddonfield.
Michael isn’t stupid, not in a general sense. While he had been in a mental institution for the past fifteen-odd years, he's killed dozens of people by now and never got even remotely close to being caught. He’s just a little socially confused. He’s been treated like the devil itself for the past 15 years of his life, so your kindness, let alone your peaceful coexistence with him is somewhat lost to him. Even the night you met had been something he’d never thought he’d let happen.
You had been taking pictures of the old Myers house a few months back, just after sunset. There was enough light for you to see, but with every photo you took that was getting more and more difficult. You had walked here by yourself, which you quickly began to regret - you could hear quiet(ish) shuffling coming from the side of the house, and it definitely wasn’t getting further away. You obviously knew of Michael, everyone did - but August was much earlier than he’d ever returned, and you knew some local teens had taken up pretending to be him just to get a scare out of people. At first you thought you’d just get a little spooked and laughed at, then be able to head home safely, but apparently impersonating a killer doesn’t sit well with said killer.
The two impostors were killed with ease and a lack of ceremony, and you were quickly thrown into the house. You thought the last thing you’d ever see would be that infamous pale white mask looking into your eyes, but it wasn’t. You saw the eyes behind it - the man, the human. In complete honesty, neither of you knew why what happened next turned out the way it did. One moment you were pinned against the wall by the real Michael, the blood from the two imposters staining both your clothes. Then all he did was let out a loud huff before stalking away. The man who never left someone alive let you, of all people, live.
In the coming months you began to spot him near your apartment and - seemingly - following you around town. You were smart enough not to tell anyone, as you knew he’d disappear before anyone else could spot him and you’d wake up to a pool of your own blood and live out your last moments from a betrayal-fueled, merciless kill. From then on you had learned to interpret his non-verbality, which lead to an eventual fucked-up kind of kinship. You never tried to get him to stop what he does - to “fix” him. He appreciated that. With time he began to enjoy, even desire your company, and even went as far as allowing you to see who he was under the mask.
Getting to the location was easy enough - it was dark as all hell outside in the early December nights, and no one wanted to leave the safety and comfort of their homes. Especially since the small town had just been visited by the infamous boogeyman. Except, seemingly, the exact house he had his sights on. Perhaps it was just a lapse in judgement by a house full of drunk, intelligence-deprived party goers, but perhaps they thought one escaped asylum serial killer wouldn’t be able to survive against all of them. Either way, they left the side door unlocked. Entering the house, Michael quietly stalked around the trash strewn about - it seemed like a party had just concluded, which meant it was very likely that everyone in the house was dead asleep from over drinking. Easy targets.
It didn’t take long for Michael to be almost completely alone in the frat house. His ability to quietly stalk through it was really put to the test however, as the house was absolutely filthy. He could smell, even through his mask, the stink of cheap alcohol, smoke, and something that he’d be alright with never fully identifying. The ground was almost completely littered in something that looked like discarded clothes, with various kinds of large stains just about everywhere - for once maybe he’d actually be the good guy by killing whoever made this mess.
Finding said filth was pretty easy, people were asleep on the floor, on couches, piled together on beds. He saw two bodies sharing a bed, one draping an arm over the other, their hand being held by the other. He thought of you - your warmth finally allowing him to get some real rest at night. How you were never scared of his large hands, never seeming to care about the blood that can’t be washed from them. How you also seemed to sleep better in his presence, sometimes waiting up for him to even get to bed.
You better not be doing that now.
That room took him a bit longer to get through.
The last room was on the eastern side of the building, the master bedroom. Only a few people were in this room, two piled on the bed and one asleep face-down on the floor, lying in a pool of… something. Michael had gotten rid of two of them before he noticed how the only window of this room was perfectly facing your old apartment. You had been splitting time between there and the old Myers house ever since that night, but the knowledge that anyone in this house could have seen you through that window made his blood boil. He can’t stop you from interacting with people; he had enough common sense to know that you had to work and get money to sustain yourself and get whatever you thought Michael needed as well, and that a good person like you needed more than just a serial killer for company (much to his dismay). However, he absolutely could stop people from going to you first. As he stood over the last soon-to-be-corpse, panting from the adrenaline, he came up with a plan.
Michael had always made his kills swift and brutal, leaving no room for anyone to think it wasn’t his work. But tonight, he changed it up a bit. He woke the last victim up, quickly grabbing him from behind.
“Wha…what?”
The poor boy was barely conscious as Michael put the knife into the other’s hand, using his own to guide him to slit his own throat. Of course, there was a slight struggle, but having a hangover and fighting against a killing machine worked against the last man’s favor, and the knife glided across the skin, breaking through with a steady trickle of blood. He fell to the floor in a position of apparent suicide, and Michael then got to work. He wanted it to seem that this poor boy had lost his mind and killed every member of the afterparty he had hosted himself, all because of an obsession with the person across the street - you. Michael staged the scene by changing the boy into his overalls (plenty of stupid people had been impersonating Michael, no one would think it was actually his.) On a piece of paper, he wrote down your typical schedule for any given week - no, he did not memorize it, and he certainly didn’t repeat it to himself like a mantra when he needed to focus. Don’t be stupid. To anyone who’d see the scene, it would look like an obsessed maniac realized you were out of his grasp, lost his mind, killed all his friends and then himself. The police would likely put together that you were his target, and they would likely question you, but Michael knew you wouldn’t say anything. If anything, you’d probably assume they meant him, and would be absolutely shocked when it would be revealed to be someone else. Maybe you’d put together that it was all an elaborate ruse from Michael.
Maybe you’d thank him.
Michael stole a change of clothes and left, leaving the knife as proof of the crime clearly not committed by him, a small bottle of cold medicine he found on the nightstand rattling in the pocket of his pants.
As he expected, the house was quiet when he returned. Well maybe not expected, but that’s what he wanted to greet him. He hated when you stayed up for him, as if you were an old married couple (deception and avoidance was his game, it was only a matter of him before he fell victim to it himself). You were his captive, and would likely end up being his victim too (deception). There was no love in his heart, in this home, anywhere close to him. He’s a killer, and only a killer (avoidance).
So why do his hands twitch when he thinks of you? Why does his body move on its own, craving your warmth and touch?
You were still asleep when he got to the bedroom, breathing shallow. He set the medicine bottle on the nightstand closest to you, going into the bathroom to make sure he was free from any blood before he joined you bedside. The dip in the mattress woke you up enough for you to open your eyes to see a bottle of cold medicine left for you (don’t mind the dark red smear on the label).
“Thinking of me even during a bloodbath?”
You sat up and took two of the small pills, washing them down with the glass of water you had gotten earlier in the night. When you laid back down, you were pulled into the grasp of your oh-so-thoughtful killer. You felt his face nuzzle into your hair with an uncanny tenderness- wait. His face? Like, the actual one?
“Your mask- where is it?”
He opted to not respond, instead pulling you further into his chest. You quietly hummed, too tired to press it any further. You reached back and grabbed his hand and pulled it close, right on top of your heart.
Despite knowing about it for a few weeks, the day you two planned to go stargazing came without warning. Unless you count marking it on your calendar as a warning; or setting reminders on your phone a warning. Then you had multiple warnings. No matter - it was today, and you were ready as you will ever be.
You had gone about the whole day pacing around your apartment, changing clothes, trying to stay calm, then pacing around some more. You hadn’t heard from them all day - and it was killing you. Had they changed their mind about tonight? It was their idea to meet outside of the city and, as they put it, ‘get away from stuff’; so they wouldn’t have randomly canceled. You could barely touch the dinner you had prepared, the butterflies inside you killing whatever appetite you had. As you were cleaning off your plate, you heard your phone chime; as dumb as it sounds, you could feel the vibration of it inside you. Rushing to check it (and almost dropping the plate in the process), the familiar feeling of that anxiety-inducing warmth spread over you.
Astro-not
Just got in the taxi, heading there now!
You
Finishing dinner - I’ll be leaving v shortly
Astro-not
hehehe
‘hehehe’? What did that mean? God, they always knew how to confuse you. But in all honesty, you were just confusing yourself. At the end of the day, you had brought this upon yourself. You had always fallen fast and fallen hard, even when it felt like it came from nowhere. Sure, they had always lent you their notes, and covered for you when your professor called on you for a hard question. When you met in the campus store in the unholy hours of the night, and they paid for your cup of coffee and box of toaster pastries, that was just a good deed. And even tonight was just them needing help with work - they had missed class for a few days, and wanted to catch up. They must have still been a little sick when they asked, why else would their face be a little pink? Yeah, you were definitely overreacting.
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The meeting spot was a little further out than you were thinking when they had told you about it all those weeks ago; you could barely see the city in your rearview anymore. Not that you minded, the quiet was good for the soul. The sunset was violently bright, the deep reds and oranges blinding you as you stepped out of your car - almost keeping you from seeing their silhouette standing on the hill. Almost. And you thanked whoever was watching you from above that you didn’t miss it. Their eyes were closed, which gave you ample time to totally not be creepy and watch them. The rays of sun illuminating every nook and cranny of their face, seemingly holding it gently. You never thought you’d be jealous of the sun. They held themselves loosely as they basked in the setting sun - you silently promised yourself that if you ever got the chance, you’d hold them tighter. You must have been standing there for too long, absorbed in your thoughts, because you didn’t notice when they turned and saw you. Or notice how their breath caught just a little as they realized you were looking at them.
“Hey hey! You gonna stand there? Or are we going to do this?”
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It was nice catching up after not seeing each other for a few days. They talked your ear off, rambling about how their cat ate too much grass and then threw it up, how grossed out they were when they had to clean it up, and how they knew how their cat was likely eating too much grass right now. You two laughed together - they were totally right.
“Anyways, what did I miss in class? I have a feeling professor Jay called on you again to ask about things you have no way of knowing?” They asked, reminding you that you were actually supposed to be doing productive things.
“Of course he did - I still think that he’s some sort of academically-powered sadist.” You said, getting a small chuckle in return. “But you didn’t miss all that much, we covered more theories on gravity, and whether or not it could change overtime.”
“Oooo! Did that one frat guy ask something dumb like ‘can it make me get better gains’?” They asked - and it was a little sad to say no, even though that one frat guy totally would ask something like that.
You two laughed and chatted, and those feelings from earlier only strengthened as the sky darkened and slowly began to glow in starlight. You tried your very hardest to be subtle about them, but you’ve never been the best at hiding things - especially from them. You didn’t know if it was because you made them obvious, or if they just knew you really well. Maybe both.
But tonight seemed to be worse, with no class to fake pay attention to when you got caught staring, or a city to distract them.
“Is everything okay? You keep looking at me with a dumb face.” They asked.
“I hate to break it to you - but that dumb face is just how I look.” You said, trying to mask your embarrassment from being caught with dry wit.
“You know that’s not what I meant; you have a dumb expression on.” They responded with an eye roll. “Wait, I don’t have a bug on my face, do I?!” Panic was clear in their voice - they were always scared of bugs.
“What? No - I promise there are approximately zero bugs on your face.” Another mask.
“Then what’s with that look? It’s too focused for you - are you checking for bugs?” They were still worried about those damn bugs - too involved in that to think about why you were looking so intensely at them. In a way, you were thankful.
“I will be now, if that helps.” You responded, a little happy that you now had an excuse to keep being creepy.
-------
The night grew darker and colder, but neither of you seemed to mind. The conversation calmed a little, with an occasional break for admiring the stars. You regularly checked for bugs, as you promised. But every time you went to check, they were already looking at you - were they also checking for bugs?
“Now you’re doing it!” You said, breaking the silence, and seemingly scaring them.
“What? I’m not doing anything! I’m just…” They trailed off, not meeting you in the eyes.
“Bull - I keep catching you watching me! You don’t need to check me for bugs - they don’t bother me.” You said in an attempt to reassure them. It didn’t seem to work.
“Am not! And bugs don’t get you, you’re too cold so they don’t see you as food.” They said, trying to divert the attention from them totally staring at you. Again, it didn’t seem to work.
“Okay, first off ouch, secondly, if you’re not checking for bugs then what the hell are you doing? You’re too quiet - you’d usually be going off about constellations or something.” You asked, despite the feeling you had deep down that you knew why they were looking.
“What? I’m not that annoying about space! And I told you, I’m just-” They stopped, trying to think of a good comeback. “Well maybe, I’m looking at you because you’re looking at me!”
“What in the world does THAT mean? That’s such a kindergarten thing to say.” You said, really hoping that they meant what you thought they meant.
“Well why can’t I look at you? You can look at me, so why can’t I do the same?”
“Because you don’t know why I’m looking at you, and you can’t do things without a reason.” You said.
That stupid, anxious warmth was back in your chest. It was stupid to feel it - as much as you wanted it, even though you dream of it nightly, you two didn’t see each other in the same light. You knew it; they were just a nice person, treating everyone they know with this sweetness. And you were just a dumbass lying about checking them for bugs.
“Then why are you looking at me?”
You didn’t respond. What were you supposed to say? Another lie about bugs, so you hide your feelings? The truth - that you swear on your life that they aren’t from this world, that you got jealous of the sun for being closer to them then you are?
“Are you looking at me-” they scooted closer, (or was it your imagination?) - “for the same reason I’m looking at you?”
Your eyes shot up, meeting theirs. Those butterflies that stole your dinner earlier were back, but much stronger. This had to be a misunderstanding - you were just overreacting again. Thinking too hard about things and twisting them into what you want. Your words seemed to be caught in your throat (if they were even there to begin with), a spell of silence falling over you both again. You didn’t know how long you two were looking at each other, searching in the others’ eyes for something that you didn’t know. Would you know when you found it?
“You’re weird.” You spoke up, saying the first coherent thought you had, even though it wasn’t any good. “I mean-” You sighed, “I don’t think you know what that means.”
“If you don’t think I know, then you must know right?” They responded, “So then tell me. What does it mean?”
“That…” You stopped. “That you and I…”
You internally cringed at yourself. Why couldn’t you say anything? They looked at you expectedly, and your first good idea of the night came.
Maybe talking wasn’t your thing.
“You.. you have a little something right there” You said, pointing to no place in particular.
You didn’t let them respond before you leaned in, holding their cheek lightly. Your lips made contact with their skin and you prayed they couldn’t feel your heart literally explode. You didn’t know someone could have such kissable cheeks - was the other one like this too? You really hoped you’d get the chance to find out.Their breath hitched slightly, making you worry you had gone too far. Staying for a few seconds before pulling back, you tried to calm your heart, but with little success. You were still closer than before.
