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comfortless · 1 day

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Dungeoneer!König and his gf... I mean, traveling companion

but really this is how most of their practicing plays out. 😵‍💫

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. sliiiight dubcon, breathplay?, masochism (without real injury), masturbation, oral (m receiving), absolutely unhinged “flirting”.

König knows his way around a blade. From the delicate daggers that thieves pluck from cloaks when the chance to strike is opportune, to the curved, dainty shashkas. His favorite would always be the doppelhänder, long things that strike fear into any man who sees it swung toward him. It’s why he chose to pay good money for one now, tossed a sack of gold at the blacksmith’s feet and demanded to have an exceptional blade crafted for him within a fortnight or so.

He really can’t afford to be too choosy nowadays: he doesn’t live on his own anymore. Before, his course was decided by tattered parchment pinned to whichever acceptable sliver of wood a wandering messenger could find. Now, it’s dictated entirely by the little knight who parades around like the finest tease in all the land. Even the world, he would gamble.

She whispers molten sugar into his ear on nights she’s drunk, lonely or especially sympathetic. Perhaps all three. She climbs into his bed: a tattered, linen sheet on the rough, cold ground most nights. Sometimes, it’s softer, a feather-stuffed mattress at an inn. Those always reeked of sin. Something carnal right where a couple must have lain together only a night prior, yet to be drowned out and washed away in the streams by some hapless innkeeper. It’s all went to his head, more than a little.

The lady knight sits across from him, tapping the rim of her mug of ale with such disinterest on her face that it’s König who feels sympathetic now.

She chose this tawdry place. Chose to don some silly armor and pretend it’s taking her to kneel in service to the King. The jobs never dwindle, but the motivation does. She never knows what she truly needs, but König always seems to.

“You want to fight? Me?,” she asks, to the wooden table rather than to him. Sluggish and gloomy with her own disappointment in this place, her own perceived shortcomings, something that he can’t fix. The King should have his head on a spear for not giving her everything she’s ever asked for, woman and benevolent thief or not.

“It has been a while, hm?”

She nods once, curls her mouth into a subtle smile that sends his heart swooping and something stirring down below.

“I suppose I’ve gotten comfortable.”

He knows well enough that he can make her less so, always seemed to with his groping and hovering. Even if she’s fed into it, a moth to flame, he’s never seen her bed anyone this entire aimless journey. It’s the rush of adrenaline that sends fire into her belly, makes her eyes shine and her legs tremble each time, never the flirtations.

König’s yet to win a bet, but this time he would wager that playing nice won’t grant him a thing. It never has with what’s dwelling in each dark corner of the kingdom’s underbelly, and it never has with her.

So when the sparring begins this time, it’s real.

The look of shock and betrayal comes immediate when she’s easily knocked back, her blade landing in the grass at her side.

“Again.” And again, and again, she says it as though the exhaustion isn’t already evident in the way her breathing grows heavy. Each time it’s the same, because the only thing he holds back from is severely wounding her. Even if he could, even if he knows roughing her up a bit is just how this should go.

“You are tired,” he observes, cocking his head to the side as she scrambles to search for her sword beneath the dim light of the moon. “Do you need a break, little knight?”

The look she shoots him is something akin to scandalized. König’s never been the one to taunt her like this. It’s new and tentative, and he prays it’s something she likes. The dresses and sparkling gifts from the dungeons did fuck all for any sort of progression, and by the end of the night she would know how dull all of this has become to him, too.

“I am not—“ A parry, a feint, a jab that lands on the air rather than striking true. Not enough. “I’m fine.”

It’s never been in this impromptu plan to shove her down, but that’s what happens when she doesn’t take it seriously. She moves towards him again. Steel clatters against steel, sinks forgotten into the grass. With a hand adhered to the back of her thigh and another at curve of her back, he drops her down too. No briny sweat clings to his temple, all of this is more simple than even the training he had as boy.

She doesn’t even kick at him, docile as any doe when she makes the assumption that all of this is playing pretend. Just another game: he’s less fit to be a monster than even the weak things dwelling in the dark in her eyes.

“I do not want your mercy,” he growls against her neck, weaves his fingers into her hair and tugs her head to the side. Just a little. Just enough. “Be sincere. Hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice is a mere peep, lost to the wind that whips by and tousles all but the man affixed to her.

Explanations have never come easy for König. Not with words, not even with letters. He’s killed men without telling why, left wandering ghosts and their wives bereaved time and time again. It’s not something worthy of an answer, nor a thing he ever thought she would even ask. It’s never questions with her: only orders. Even a tamed horse can lash out, kick its master right off to trample if it sees fit. König is no different.

He licks a stripe up her throat, relishes in the way her breath catches and her hands rise to dig nails into his arms. His teeth catch right along her jaw, inhales against her cheek, and when she grows tense below him, claws her way down to his forearms, he knows she’s finally well aware of how this ends.

His hands study the expanse of her body, fisting the linen of her tunic upward to reveal all soft flesh and no more tricks. There’s an aching bruise on her neck, chest, below her ribs before the knight finally presses her palm to his forehead and kicks a rib to wind herself away.

“You’re so…” The word she searches for dies on her tongue when she scrambles over him, feels how greedy he truly is when his hips tilt skyward and the throbbing erection presses against her rear.

“Stupid, hm? Say it.”

She curls a hand around his throat and squeezes, her eyelids sinking to shield the dazed glimmer there as he slips a hand into the front of her trousers. A callused thumb brushes over her clit before drifting further, down where he realizes that he’s found a new treasure. She’s already wet.

“You are. Big fool. Brute..,” she grits out, delivers another blessed press of her hand. All another feint, because she remains stationed above him. Even mimicking the groan that rattles his throat beneath her palm with a sigh of her own. “I could kill you. You know that I…”

The knight dips her head to press against his chest as he spears a thick finger into her, and a greed surges through him at this sudden compliance. Poor thing is so winded that she does little else than blanket him and shiver whilst he grins as though he’s devil-possessed or the luckiest filth in the world. The thought of her fitting any cock- let alone his- seems unimaginable, so obscenely tight as she squeezes around one digit that it pulls even an appreciative grunt from him.

“You could try it.”

Her fingers dig into the skin at his neck, and none of it is enough. She’s so gentle with him, because maybe she even believes that she could. Killing wild men without masters or loyalties, just like the men in the stories she fancies. König guides a hand up to help her, presses down around his throat with more ferocity as she lifts her head and stares down at him like he’s truly gone mad.

“You want a leash..?,” she huffs, pretends she isn’t leaking onto his hand.

“Only if this—“ Another finger, a deliberate curl of both as they press to something soft deep inside of her. Something that makes her whimper rather than bark. “—is holding it.”

She only looks at him, sulky and humiliated when she’s pleasured, stumbles over some other mumbled insult as her back begins a slow arch. He guides his hand back to her thigh, pets along her softness and watches her with such adoration, a pleased purr rumbling in his chest.

“Look at you… cute thing.”

“Not a thing.” Her hissing only further goads him, because she does nothing to pull away, can hardly meet his eyes even with fire and hatred on her tongue.

“Ja… meine dame, is that right?”

Her breath catches as she grinds herself where she’s been impaled, legs trembling as his thumb brushes over the bud in repetition. It’s too soon, but he allows her to have her rapture, gaze drifting from her hair to the curve of a hip as her cunt gives a greedy pulse. All armor is shredded and ripped away, no defenses, catapults or blades, all are exchanged for soft cries and a burning ache. The hurried breaths she takes come almost stilted as she gives his fingers another generous squeeze, and he only feeds them into her with unhurried hunger.

“I want to feel it,” he huffs into her hair, savors the way she tightens the grip around his throat until his voice fetters to a whisper. “Just once, please.”

“No… not..,” is all she manages before the wave reaches the shoreline and she unravels over him. He feels the walls of her cunt throb as her head ascends to his shoulder, burying herself there in shame or bliss. The orgasm is soon but drawn out, some pent up need finally freed to open air, the very same longing that remains prevalent and urging inside of him. He fucks her through it with a bitter fervor, spearing and scissoring the fingers inside until her thigh draws up from around him and she detaches entirely to sit up at his side.

König is quick to rise before her, already untying the laces of what keeps him from the hope of sharing that same rapture she must have felt. The little knight only stares up at him with perplexed curiosity as his cock springs free, thick and long and angry after so many long months of suffering a callused fist or neglect. The tip drags over the seam of her lips as he takes the base of it into his palm, and the drooling maw above her only groans at the barest sensation.

“I will bite it off,” she declares, follows it up with a charming grin as though she hadn’t bruised him deeply hundreds of times prior to this.

“Ja, after… I don’t care.” And of course he does, but this is the closest he’s gotten to anything and he would be a fool not to take it, teeth or not.

She swallows pensively, then rolls her tongue over the slit of the enraged weapon in her face. Beads of salt aren’t fitting for a woman’s tongue, he knows, feels horribly dirty and miserable at the sight for a mere second before she takes him in earnest. Her lips wrap around him, send sparks of the purest euphoria through him.

“Is this how to shut you up, meine dame?”

Everything is gilded gates and ethereal meadows, the only damnation he suffers is the fact that he can’t move without bruising her: too big to feed himself down her throat, too untamed to hold himself steady should she ever allow it. He settles for her pace, watches in wonder as she allows half of him to reach into the warmth of her throat. The panting beast above her curls his hands into fists at his sides, certain that touching her would be the end of this boon of fortune.

Her tongue flicks over the weeping tip each time she draws back, hands grasping at his thighs to keep herself upright. Even when her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, the cock in her mouth only twitches in agonized bliss. He melts before her, trembling in such pleasured fury that his nails threaten to break through the hardened skin of his palms.

“Ha… I need to… I’m going to come.” Only then does he reach for the back of her neck, forcing her in place to bear the taste of what’s to come. She doesn’t fight it, gazes up with a furrowed brow and delivers the gentlest bite along him. A warning or a dare. “Next time will be… fuck…”

Her titan crumbles before her as though wounded, can’t keep his hands in place then as he grasps at her face and his body grows taut. His hips press forward only to stutter as he tries in earnest to keep himself somewhat contained. She gags quietly when the thick ropes of seed meet the end of her, abrupt but as endless as the broken, pitiful noises that rise from his chest then. It’s miraculous how she swallows it all, bitter and hot as it spills in generous spurts.

It’s he who pulls back, giving the cock already softening a few more pulls before collapsing in front of her with acute love tucked away behind the glassy blue of his eyes. His little knight could feign indifference all she liked, but even those pretty tavern wenches and noble pricks she bats her lashes at could never have had a taste of what had just occurred here.

She wipes away spit and come with the back of her hand, tries her best to shoot him a look of disgust, but König does not miss the way that her eyes seem to twinkle in the same way his do now.

“I want to taste you, too,” he rasps, chest still rising and falling with rushed intakes of air. Even after he can’t keep himself from ruining any bit of sanctity or sanity within reach. Punctuates his statement by reaching toward her again, only to be pulled into the comfort of an awkwardly positioned embrace. His face lands against her breasts, and though he languidly runs a hand up her back, the other takes a tit. He toys with her in his palm, brushes a thumb over her nipple and rises up to kiss her cheek, silent pleas.

“You’ve had enough fun,” she answers, pulling his hand away with their fingers intertwined.

“You have more than just a mouth.” He flashes her the biggest, wettest puppy eyes he can manage. That may get him a scrap from her plate, but it’s worth nothing here. “I would make a good vater, yes?”

#Salome when you sent this i had to shyly hide my phone at work and pretend my jaw was not unhinging #SO them and the image is so cute too?! ;_;#i know you said don’t feel pressured to write but how could i not??#dungeoneer!könig

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thegoldencontracts · 2 days

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ONE OF MY TWST OCS IS A TOTAL TSUNDERE WHAT THE HELL

Make twst tsundere content, I DARE you(I'd say I'd match you with content of my own, however it is drama and science finals week and I'd rather not burn myself out on more than one front bc my english final is next week. So I will not guarantee that lmao BUT STILL THAT SOUNDS AWESOME MAKE THAT CONTENT I WILL EAT IT UP)

- thoughtlessdesires

THANK YOU SOMEONE ELSE WHO UNDERSTANDSSSSS

Hello, you there, yes, YOU 🫵 can help make tsundere twst by uhh... idek man it's tsundere twst,,, it's cuteee i swearrr imagine THIS:

I-It's Not Like I Like You!

Summary: The Housewardens deal with their affection in the oddest of ways.

Notes: This is a taste of what we can make possible GUYS tsundere!twst is cute and it's not ridiculously ooc or smth like that i SWEAR- Also the last sentence in Azul's part is literally ripped straight from the third part of his dorm vignette (the tsundere potential of this man is so understated guys PLEASE let me yap here I have a point-)

Night Raven College; a place of raw meritocracy. Sentiment is rarely found, and affection is often mocked. Logic and strength are meant to take priority, and discord between students is common.

So what happens where these students find someone who treats them with kindness, understanding.

...Completely flounder, of course.

The housewardens, during one of their meetings, even discussed the dearest Ramshackle Prefect, so odd, so understanding. Kalim had brought the topic up, of course.

"...Why's this important?" Leona had said, a bored look on his face.

"I-Indeed," Riddle said. "The Prefect isn't particularly relevant to our current topic of discussion, regardless of accomplishments."

Azul sighed in his typical, overdramatic manner of his.

"How cold!" he said. "Kalim was merely doing his duty to discuss the needs of all students, regardless of how-"

His nose wrinkled.

"Talentless."

"Well, the Prefect's not that bad." A lukewarm praise. Even Kalim wasn't speaking highly of the Prefect? Just what was going on here?

"A total normie," Idia had said.

"It's true, the potato could use some work," Vil said,

Wow. These housewardens sure did hate you, didn't they?

Wrong! At that moment, all of the, were lying! They liked you. And no one in that room had any clue how to deal with it.

Riddle hasn't ever really got to experience relationships due to the stifling pressure of his mother. Thus, he has absolutely no clue how to handle the sudden affection for you he feels. He'd often stop by Ramshackle to help you with your homework. Just because you happened to need it way more than the others, of course. N-No ulterior motives here. What do you mean 'his face is red'? You're just imagining things!

Leona's always been treated like a cold, uncaring individual, and that's what he's used to. That leaves him completely flabbergasted when you suddenly start making him lovesick. He happens to "accidentally" drop money and the like while you were near. Not that he wants to help you, of course! He just doesn't really care about the money that much. Why're you looking at him like that? He's not that kind of sap!

Azul's childhood's left him used to rejection. After so long of being mocked for any desire of love and companionship, he's shunned it. Love's just business to him, an easily exploitable emotion. So he'll never be able to admit it now that he's the exploitable one. He gives you stuff... for free? Since when did he do that? Ask him about it and he insists he's just doing it for business' sake. What kind of business? Is he sure he doesn't just like you? W-What sort of foolish questions are those? Do you honestly think him capable of such an illogical sentiment as "attachment"?

Kalim, of course, isn't immune. Even he doesn't understand this. Someone actively returning his kindness? He's absolutely in love, and he doesn't know how to handle it. Although he won't be quite as abrasive as the others, he'll definitely struggle to admit his feelings. He might actually be less nice to you than to others. Not in a rude way, of course, he's just a bit quiet because he's always so flustered around you! Can you blame him?

Vil, too, despite his normal mentality of being candid and mature, struggles to handle his affection. He'll buy you skincare and the like. B-But, he'd do this for anyone, of course. There's nothing particularly special about the way he feels for you! Once again, though he isn't particularly defensive, he'll definitely struggle to admit his feelings, and it causes him boatloads of internal conflict. Why's he being so immature all of a sudden?

Idia doesn't get you. Why'd some normie suddenly have to start talking to him? J-Jeez, it's not like he enjoys your company or anything! Idia can vaguely recognize the word 'tsundere' in his head as he mulls over his interactions with you, but he denies it. Denying his feelings? U-Uh, what feelings?

"Looks like you have some competition, huh?"

"What competition, Lilia?" Malleus's face twisted in displeasure. "The Child Of Man- they're merely a friend."

Malleus doesn't know how to feel. He's never really had these sorts of close relationships before, so when his heart pounds around you and sparks seem to fly, he has no clue what to do. He's so deep in denial, partially due to his obliviousness when it comes to matters of sentiment and partially due to how he's used to being intimidating, and blushing like a schoolgirl around one's crush is the opposite of intimidating.

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lovecorrin · 3 days

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Do u have any podcast and youtube recs ?? Sosmething similar to your blogs vibe !!

hiiii! tysm for the ask! (sorry i didn’t answer it earlier, i was studying for an exam)

i actually do! i’ve been really into aesthetic, self improvement content because i find it so helpful to consume positive media 💗 here are some of my personal faves:

Youtube

Rebecca Jay- my absolute faaaavourite youtuber at the moment! she makes things like routine vlogs and advice videos, but they are so cute and calming!

Annika’s Leaf- I’ve loved her videos for forever! She makes a lot of vlogging content and her life is so gentle and relaxing to watch.

Princess Jess- She makes vids to do with a lot of trendy stuff like ‘wonyoungism’ and ‘coquette’ things. Her vids are super cute!

Linda Sun- Her videos aren’t the same sort of aesthetic as my account, but I love watching her videos for advice- especially her newer content.

Cozy K- She makes really gentle yet motivating content that always reminds me that it’s okay to slow down and be cosy :))

Podcasts

Busy Yet Pretty- This is my all time favourite podcast! I listen to it legitimately every week when it comes out and it’s super motivating. The host, Jadyn, gives really helpful advice too, whilst also covering trending topics.

The Wellness Cafe- This one is similar to busy yet pretty and the host also gives super great advice. I love listening to both of these on walks or when i’m getting ready in the morning!

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homestuckreplay · 2 days

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try using your brain, numbnuts!

(Pages 131-133)

Well, I was on the fence, and this update left me with no choice. I watched Con Air.

I was really surprised by John's gift from TG - and he clearly was too, because this is the biggest smile we've yet seen on his face. TG has been so standoffish and uncaring up until now, and I was expecting either a gag gift or something seen as more typically 'cool' that would get John away from his weird, nerdy interests. It's a completely different side of him that'd go to the effort of getting John a genuine prop from his favorite movie - a stuffed animal at that, not typically a gift teenage boys would exchange.

Mostly I'm curious where the two of them are getting this money. This couldn't have been cheap, and it's implied that John bought TG a celebrity artifact for his birthday, too - 'EB: you do realize they touched stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point.' (p.110) Surely John asked his dad for help with buying a gift for TG, and his dad agreed - which is a new side to their relationship, too. It's very sweet to learn that John will brave a Dad encounter if it means doing something thoughtful for his friend.

I definitely enjoyed the movie, it kept me engaged throughout and the tension stayed high despite the very obvious happy ending it was building to. I think the movie could be analyzed by itself through a lens of race, crime, and the role and power of law enforcement - but John as a sheltered 13 year old probably isn't thinking about it that deeply, which is fine. He's allowed to just quote "put the bunny back in the box" and pretend he's not attracted to Nicolas Cage, for now.

Perhaps more immediately relevant is the way Cameron Poe spends the whole movie trying to get back to the kind of typical American family life that John seems so constrained by. It's easy to see John wanting to lose himself in the life of a cool action hero for a couple of hours, and experience some vicarious excitement of taking down hardened criminals and stopping a plane hijack, but harder to see him identifying with Poe's overall motivation. I also noticed the word 'numbnuts' fairly early in the movie, and on page 26 of Homestuck we get 'EB: try using your brain numbnuts.' It's a specific enough word that I don't think it's coincidence, and we know John is always referencing his movies, so it really fits him to pick up specific words and turns of phrase from them too.

Unfortunately, now I've watched Con Air I feel committed to watching every movie John's got a poster of - which is eleven movies, and some of them look really bad. But I'm committed to my goals, and I love John, even if I'm wary of his taste.

MOVIES WATCHED: 1/11

MOST RECENT MOVIE: Con Air (1997) - Rating 8/10

#im actually emotional john got a bunny on may 8th #bc my favorite soft toy as a kid was a bunny and her birthday was may 8th #i say 'was' i still have her and i still wish her happy birthday every year lmao #homestuck #reaction #john's movies

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schvmacher47 · 3 days

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venus | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem oc

chapter 1 | quick pause in conversation word count: 4044

<– preview. –> next part.

let me know in the comments, if you want to be tagged in future parts :)

» [canyon moon - harry styles] « 1:54 ────〇──3:09 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

»The egg challenge?« Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the kitchen as if he was preparing for his personal downfall. He didn't look too impressed, if anything, he probably wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. As always. If there was one thing about Oscar I learned immediately, it was the fact that he wasn't too keen on any media activities. Truth or dare? He's gonna shoot you death glares all the time. Wet head? He's gonna complain about not knowing anything about his teammate. The only challenge he showed proper interest in, was the food challenge... Only because he didn't have to try the food himself and was the one enjoying all the chaos.

»Yes, the egg challenge!«, I said enthusiastically. It was one of my many mastermind ideas, letting two young men, who most definitely were one of the worst cooks in the world, compete in a cooking challenge. »You know I can't cook... It's gonna be embarrassing.«, he whined. »Everyone knows you can't cook, especially after your tweets. Knowing you use your oven as a dryer just proves that point even more.«, I grinned as I set up the camera. This was going to be great. I was sure I was gonna be entertained. »How? It was an emergency! You can't possibly bring that up all the time...«, Oscar protested. I knew it was an emergency, he made sure everyone knew that. But teasing him and getting on his nerves was simply too easy and fun to not do it. »That's what they all say...«

»Yeah that's what they all say, Oscar.«, Robert grinned, putting on his apron. »Oh shut up mate.«, Oscar grumbled. »As if you're that good of a cook.« »Definitely better than you!« »This is not a competition, you know?«, I chuckled. »How about you also gear up, hm?«, I handed Oscar the remaining apron and chef hat. He just grumbled something unintelligible, still not too keen on my idea. »Can you just for once be more motivated when I come up with such a genius idea? Pretty please?«, I sighed. This was definitely not what I signed up for when I applied for this job. I definitely underestimated working with teenagers and young adults and I definitely didn't imagine the young adults to be more stubborn and childish than the teenagers. »What do I get in return?« »A kiss!«, Robert exclaimed, but was soon silenced by both my and Oscar's death glares. Somehow everyone at Prema had made it their mission to tease Oscar and me all the time. For no reason. Arthur was the one who started it, claiming there was some sort of 'tension' and everyone just picked up on it. »Whoa I was just joking, no need to stare me down like that.« »You can have a cheat day and choose what we'll get, apart from Pizza Hawaii.«, I argued, bribing him into appreciating my idea. »That's actually a great idea, but can we get this over with now?« »Sure, ready when you are.«

»We were told this is not a competition, but it definitely is a competition.«, Oscar said, glaring into the camera. »We have a bunch of eggs and three different ways to prepare them. A soft boiled egg, fried eggs, but over easy and a poached egg.«, he continued. »We're both terrible at cooking, so let's see how it goes.«, Robert said, clapping his hands. »But, if I win this challenge, then I don't have to drive Oscar to the airport later today.« »So you're saying that I have to drive when you win?«, I asked, raising an eyebrow, but Robert just grinned mischievously and nodded. I knew he was doing it on purpose. »Exactly!« »Deal! But you better win this Oscar, I still have to go grocery shopping, my fridge is the definition of empty and I definitely don't have the time to drive to the airport and back again.« »I'll try... You shouldn't have too high hopes tho.«

»You never showed us a video.«, Oscar grumbled as he put his pot on the hob. »Why should I? You should know how to boil an egg...«, I shook my head in disbelief, he surely must've boiled an egg before. »I've never boiled an egg...«, Oscar mumbled, a dumbfounded expression resting on his face. »But surely you wait until the water is boiling... It's a boiled egg, not a lukewarm egg that then boils.« »You genius..«, I grinned. Robert and I exchanged glances, as we waited for the water to boil. I was just waiting for the disaster to unfold, waiting for my personal entertainment which was honestly the best part of my job. Apart from getting to travel the world and watch fast cars all weekend long of course.

»My water is boiling, so...«, Oscar said, jokingly giving his egg a featherlight kiss for good luck, before not so gently putting it into the boiling water. Robert eyed him sceptically, before following and also putting an egg into his pot with boiling water. »That's a very aggressive boil..«, Oscar mumbled, eyeing his pot and immediately turning the temperature down.

»I think I cracked it.« A sigh escaped Robert's lips as he inspected the broken egg shell, before both he and Oscar started to chuckle. »You did!«, Oscar laughed out loud. »So I win the boil challenge by default.« »No you don't, I can try again!«, Robert argued, immediately putting another egg into the boiling water. Oscar just shook his head, but was soon also stressing, when he had another look into his pot. »Oh no, mine's cracked too!« »Yes!! The competition is back on!«, Robert happily exclaimed, both of them yet again erupting in a fit of laughter. »Oh shit, I didn't turn my timer back on.«, Oscar nearly dropped the second egg at Robert's words, not able to hold back his laughter. This time, he used a spoon to gently drop the egg into the water. »Masterchef – Oh shit my timer!«, he exclaimed, rushing to set his timer for exactly three minutes. I grinned watching them both behind the camera, as I enjoyed the chaos unfolding in front of me.

»Well let's go for a visual inspection first, Robert's is cracked, mine's not.«, Oscar said, pointing to the visible crack in Robert's egg. He managed to crack both of his attempts, but was still sure of victory. »But that's not what you eat, it's important what's on the inside, not on the outside... Never judge a book by its cover!«, Robert exclaimed. »That's the philosophy of Robert Shwartzman.« »Yeah, right«, Oscar grinned and shook his head as he started cracking his soft boiled egg. »Yeah nah, it's not looking good«, he stated after a first inspection. Robert's attempt didn't look too promising either, but it was the tiniest bit more solid.

»And that is a win for me!«, Robert exclaimed, satisfied with his winning soft boiled egg. »Well, if you want a half raw egg, I'm the man to call... Turns out these timers suck.« »You have never ever sounded that Australian before«, Robert grinned. »Turns out these timers suck«, he mocked Oscar. »Of course I sound Australian. I am Australian, you idiot!« Oscar rolled his eyes, as he cleaned up his workspace for the next challenge. »Yeah I know, you just never sound that Australian«, Robert said, following Oscar's lead and also starting to clean up. »If I would speak in an Aussie accent, there's no way that I would be getting my points across, because you lot wouldn't understand me!« »Uh-uh, don't you dare speak for me, I'm pretty sure I could still understand you.« I actually wouldn't mind it if he spoke in his Aussie accent more often. But that was just my personal opinion. »Sure, multilingual queen«, Oscar grinned, making fun of me and my list of many talents. I just rolled my eyes in response and refrained from making further comments on Oscar's lack of foreign language skills. »Whatever you say, but let's get back to business...«, I mumbled, subtly reminding Robert and Oscar what their actual task was.

»Well, guess who won the first round?«, Robert grinned, as he reminded Oscar of his first loss of the day. »This egg was broken, it was ugly, no one believed in it, but in the end it was the best!«, he added, making both Oscar and me erupt into a fit of laughter. I quickly wiped away the tears that were forming in my eyes, as Oscar composed himself again and cleared his throat. »Okay, next up, we have the poached egg. This is probably my best bet of winning anything here today, so let's see how this goes...«, Oscar said, introducing the next part of the challenge. I didn't believe a single word that just left his mouth. The poached egg as his best bet? He couldn't be serious right now. Not after failing to boil a soft boiled egg.

»I think it's a bit too hot, who put it on 9?«, Robert asked, as he put a tablespoon of vinegar into his pot filled with water. »I did!«, Oscar said, minding his own business as he cracked open his egg. »Cheating bastard. He's cheating!«, Robert exclaimed, probably hoping for me to disqualify Oscar from the competition, which technically wasn't even a competition. But he wasn't getting any sort of reaction from me, so he just started swirling his water and carefully letting his egg slip into the swirl.

»Alright... I don't think that was too bad«, he said, after inspecting his first attempt for a while. »Like you said, it was ugly before and turned out good... This one's... Ugly now, but probably going to turn out good.«, Oscar said, grinning as he had a look in Robert's pot. »No wait, I wanna take it out and try again!«, Robert exclaimed and immediately grabbed a spoon and took out the egg. »Wow, wow, wow, what happened to the hope, huh? Always have hope!« »Yeah of course, I have hope! I am doing another one that's going to be even better!« »If you say so...«, Oscar mumbled sceptically, but then also started with his first attempt. »So, no swirling, no vinegar, no salt, no nothing. Let's just hope and pray for the best«, Oscar said as he gently let the raw egg slip into the hot water. He proceeded to lean over the hob, his eyes never leaving the pot, to inspect his attempted poached egg. Emphasis on attempted.

»Yeah, it's not going great...«, he mumbled, which also brought Robert's attention to Oscar's side of the kitchenette. »It's not the prettiest poached egg I've ever made, it's quite similar to Robert's to be honest, but...«, he added quietly. »What the fuck!«, Robert said, a shocked expression taking over his face as he had a look into Oscar's pot. »Aye, we're family friendly!«, I chuckled, taking a mental note to beep Robert's bad word later on. »Have hope, Robert. Have hope!« »It's up to you, man. But that doesn't look edible.« A disgusted expression was resting on Robert's face as he was eyeing the mishap. He just shook his head in mere disbelief.

»And here I was thinking I was gonna get some lunch out of this...«, I interjected and earned a laugh from Robert. He just gave me a look that I interpreted as 'That's most definitely not going to happen'. »No no, it's fine... This was my practice round, so no need to worry at all«, Oscar said and still seemed to be very hopeful as he took out the egg and prepared the second one. »Maybe it wasn't boiling enough... Maybe I just have no talent... I think this might be the biggest issue here«, Oscar mumbled. His body language was very much giving signs of early defeat, as if he'd already accepted his fate, when Robert went and whispered something into his ear. I couldn't quite make out what Robert said, but I was pretty sure it was something along the lines of 'You're so doing this on purpose, I know you're not that bad...'. »There's microphones on!«, Oscar exclaimed and looked straight into the camera, or more like behind the camera, to see if anyone of us heard what was being said. »They're not listening«, Robert reassured him and grinned knowingly. Sure, nobody was listening...

»So let's try this again«, Oscar said. »I'm sticking to the 'no swirling' technique«, he added and immediately put the second raw egg into the boiling water. »This one's even worse!« He sounded very disappointed, especially as he watched Robert attempt and then succeed the challenge with his second try. »That one's actually pretty good!«, Oscar exclaimed, as he inspected Robert's attempt. Robert started celebrating, being very sure of his second victory in a row. »He actually did a good job on that...«

»Did I split the yolk? Maybe... Is that a problem? No...«, Oscar mumbled with a wry grin on his lips, as he took out his mishap of a poached egg. Both he and Robert erupted into a fit of a full body laughter, as they inspected the poached egg. »And to think this was my best bet–«, Oscar laughed, as he presented his rock solid poached egg to the camera. I chuckled, innerly thanking God for choosing to make Oscar a racing driver and not a cook. »I bet Kaia is very impressed by your cooking skills!«, Robert said, laughing. »Oh I sure am!«, I grinned and also started laughing. Their laughter was simply too infectious to not join in.

Robert's egg was the definition of a perfect poached egg, the yolk was still runny, when he cut the egg open. Both he and Oscar went to try the poached egg and were visibly impressed by how good it was. »You seriously have to try it!«, Robert said and waved me over to the kitchenette. »Are you sure you don't want to poison me?«, I joked, but still got up and left my spot behind the camera, to take the fork loaded with bits of the egg, which Oscar held out to me. »Poison you? I don't think we're that bad...« »That's why your egg is rock solid... but sure, you're not that bad«, I grinned, as I finally took the fork from Oscar, our fingers brushing as he passed it to me. I inspected the egg one last time, for safety reasons, before I got over myself and gave it a try. »Yeah, Robert definitely wins this round... Without a doubt, which also means I get the honour of driving you to the airport...«, I grumbled, giving Oscar my best death glare, to which he only raised his hands in surrender, as if he were rejecting all blame. »Just to warn you now, I get to choose the songs we're going to listen to. Capito? My car, my rules«, I playfully said. »Yeah, whatever, as long as I'm getting to the airport, that's fine with me...«

Oscar did end up winning the fried egg, but over easy challenge, but it didn't change a thing about Robert's overall win. As soon as the cameras were off, Robert put on that mischievous grin again. »Well, I guess you'll be having the honour of driving Mr. I don't get rental cars to the airport. Please do my car rides justice and don't be too nice«, he said, a big grin playing on his lips. »I'll make sure he'll still get the Robert experience,« I chuckled, as I started packing up the camera equipment. »I know that's not gonna happen because you're most definitely not as reckless of a driver as Robert. So that's a relief for me because I for once won't be carsick.«, Oscar said, getting rid of his apron and chef hat. »On the expense of my dinner, thank you very much«, I joked. »Now you're making me feel bad...«, he mumbled as he helped me clean up the kitchen. »If I remember correctly you're the one who lost the challenge, so I think that's deserved.« »Evil!«

***

»Do you have everything?«, I asked Oscar as I grabbed my bag and car keys. »Yes!« »Are you sure?, I asked again, making sure we wouldn't have to turn around. I remembered all the countless times Robert had to turn around because Oscar forgot something. At this point, the only important thing he didn't manage to leave behind was his phone. I hoped I didn't just jinx it... If his head wasn't permanently attached to his body, there would've been a great chance of him losing it somewhere around the world. »Yes«, he confirmed as he pushed his suitcase to the main entrance. I quickly grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge before I followed him to the main hall. Oscar had already brought his luggage outside and was waiting for me to unlock the car.

As I stepped outside, the crisp evening air sent shivers down my spine. The sky was painted in beautiful hues of oranges and pinks, as the sun began its descent. I unlocked the car and opened the trunk for Oscar to put his, multiple weeks worth, of luggage into it. »Buckle up, you're in for the ride of your life!«, I told him as I got into the driver's seat. I connected my phone to the car's bluetooth and chose a playlist as Oscar also got into the car. The first notes of 'Red' by Taylor Swift sounded softly from the sound system as I pulled out of the car park. Loving him was like driving a new maserati down a dead-end street. »As long as we don't end up in a dead-end street, that's fine with me«, Oscar said, a knowing smile resting on his lips as he made himself comfortable. It took a minute for my brain to process the ambiguity of his words. He for sure knew how to use his words, how to send my brain cells into a frenzy. Still waters could run deep. Very deep. »Are you questioning my abilities right now?«, »I would never!« »You better not, since you're relying on my abilities right now...«, I said, grinning as I drove onto the carriageway. »I promise I won't complain«, he said. »This is definitely an upgrade, came here thinking I was going to have to deal with Robert's horrendous driving, but got an unexpected upgrade to first class.« »As if you didn't lose on purpose to get this upgrade, let's be honest.«, I stated, quickly glancing over to him. He shook his head, but had a knowing grin on his lips. He of course did it on purpose. »I would never!«, he repeated his statement from before. »Yeah, as if I'd believe you... Just say it, you enjoy my company.« »I thought that was obvious...« »No shit Sherlock, it was obvious from the moment where you all of the sudden forgot how to boil an egg to get me to drive you to the airport«, I joked. »So where's the problem?« »I don't know, you tell me?«, I asked, grinning.

There was a quick pause in conversation, we fell into a comfortable silence, as I focused on the traffic ahead and Oscar was doing God knows what. Probably just staring out of the window for most of the time. At some point, I turned the music up. I felt the need to fill the void with some background noise. A few songs in, which I classified as my 'warm up', I started humming along to One Direction's 'No Control'. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Oscar glancing over at me. A grin spread across my lips. Oh, he had no idea of what he was going to witness. I wiggled in my seat, as I started to sing along to the last lines of the first verse. The One Direction carpool karaoke video was my roman empire, the choreography to No Control was engraved into every single one of my brain cells and every time that song popped up in my playlist, I couldn't help but dance along. Oscar chuckled softly next to me, shaking his head in amusement as I belted out the lyrics. Once the chorus hit, the last bit of self-control left my body and my hands left the steering wheel to do the choreo justice. I was challenging my inner Harry Styles. I literally had no control.

»First of all, I would very much appreciate it, if you would keep your hands on the steering wheel and focus on the street ahead...«, Oscar mumbled, a terrified expression resting on his facial features as he watched my impromptu performance. »Secondly, I sometimes wonder if your mother tongue really is English or you're just fucking with me...« »Why?«, I asked, once the chorus was over. »The way you sing these songs with so much confidence really has me questioning if you know what you're singing about«, Oscar chuckled. I raised an eyebrow. He thought this was bad? I made a mental note to introduce him to Zara Larsson's music in the future. »This isn't even the worst one...«, I said, grinning as I continued to bob my head to the beat. »There's worse?« I just nodded in amusement and watched him shake his head.

»Could you take the next exit please?«, Oscar asked, when we were halfway through our journey to the airport. »Why, do you need to use the toilet?« »Just do it, okay?«, he practically begged me as we approached the exit he was talking about. It was a service station area that even accommodated smaller versions of supermarkets. I sighed and moved over into the exit lane, slowing down as I reached the parking lot. »I'll be quick«, Oscar said, as he got out of the car. He rushed over to one of the service points, but then disappeared behind a passing truck. As I waited for Oscar to come back, I decided to also open my door and stretch my legs out of the car. I reached for the water bottle that I'd placed behind my seat, and opened it to take a few refreshing sips.

A few minutes later, I saw Oscar coming back. He was carrying a brown paper bag, seemingly from one of those supermarkets. I raised an eyebrow when he opened the door and flopped down on the passenger's seat. »Why are you looking at me like that?«, he asked and fastened his seatbelt again. »I thought you had to use the bathroom?«, I asked, tilting my head in confusion. »I lied, my bladder is not that weak –« »Funny coming from you, when you have to go to the toilet every time right before getting in your race car, but sure, go on«, I chuckled, earning a death glare from Oscar. »If you'd let me finish, you'd know the reason why I lied«, he stated. »I felt bad, when you said you still had to go grocery shopping and since I am basically the reason for you not having a proper dinner tonight, I got you something...«, he mumbled and pointed to the brown paper bag. I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his thoughtfulness. »You did what?« Oscar didn't even acknowledge my question, instead he put the bag on his lap and reached into it. »I got you dinner.«, he said, pulling out what looked like a big salad bowl, bread and a bar of chocolate. »Consider it a thank you for driving me to the airport.« I couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief. »You didn't have to do that«, I mumbled. I was at a loss for words. »Thank you...«, I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. »I really appreciate it.«

***

author's note:

hiya everyone, i hope you enjoyed reading! this is just the beginning, and there's more chaos to explore in the next chapters. i'd love to hear about your thoughts and would like some feedback, so i could integrate some stuff into the upcoming chapters :D don't forget to vote and comment, your support is very much appreciated! lots of love xx

next up: »2 | it feels like a perfect night« get ready for some birthday shenanigans!

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donnerpartyofone · 3 days

Text

youtube

This morning I went over to the church to see my favorite guy, who is so often surprising and challenging. He seemed a little out of sorts today, stammering and losing his place; I sometimes worry about this old guy, and I was paying attention. Then at the end of the mass he said that they're having air quality problems in the rectory and the EPA is involved. I hope he's not getting brain damage!

It was sort of funny, though, because the homily was about having trouble focusing--not being able to concentrate, and having anxiety about the future. That was pretty relevant to me, medically and otherwise. I'm writing this on the morning of the new moon, just to be extra flaky, about how much trouble I have forming goals.

Pursuing goals is also hard, but step one should be having a vision, and that's the really impossible part. When I was a little kid I had two ambitions: to be a writer, and to be dead. The latter thing represents one of the main motivating forces in my life, which is pain avoidance. I think this is the chief motivator of many people without them even realizing it; comfort-seeking itself can be a form of pain avoidance. Pain avoidance is not a legitimate goal, it's more of a reflex, and it can become a preoccupying distraction from any kind of actual ambition (especially as fulfilling ambitions often involves some amount of discomfort). Focusing on what you do not want is not equivalent to focusing on what you do want.

I never had a very good idea of what I want. I found this out when I went into therapy as an adult; I couldn't formulate any notion of what I wanted out of life. I couldn't even come up with any masturbatory, pie in the sky fantasies. I might vaguely be able to say something like "a bigger, nicer apartment", but I can't come up with any compelling ideas about what that would even look like. I try, but I know I'm faking it. Certainly part of my interest in religion and occultism is the idea that I could train myself to really clearly conceptualize any kind of goals or desires. In the case of occultism specifically (and, let's be honest, many forms of self-help), visualization is always a key element. In recent years I learned that I am abnormally incapable of forming mental images, and I have come to believe that this is intimately connected to my inability to figure out what I want or how to get it.

Nearly all of my thinking is verbal. I found out what aphantasia was while talking to my dad, who is extremely visual with an excellent grasp of spacial relations (something I have almost no concept of). He was shocked when I said I can't really picture anything, asking me "Then how do you do anything?" He said when he decides to make a sandwich, for instance, he automatically sees himself performing the actions of sandwich-making, and sees the aspirational sandwich in his mind's eye. Visualizing is essential to his entire executive process. It so happens that I am aphantasic and I have a lot of executive dysfunction. I no longer think this is coincidental.

(I'm also very faceblind, and I think this is connected; something to do with the ability to reconstitute a visual memory and relate it to something that is presently in front of me. But anyway...)

Perhaps oddly, I am an artist, or at least I have been. But I've never been able to draw from my imagination, like at all. The best work I've ever done is all swipes; I am a great believer in swipes, it can reveal a lot about your personal style and obsessions and when you re-draw someone else's art. But I can't just sit and think up something fun to draw, even when I try to just doodle I'm usually responding more to the lines I see emerging on the paper than anything I'm thinking or feeling. I think this is related to the fact that I'm an obsessive scopophile; I take in a lot of detail from my environment, and I watch movies with the same attitude and frequency with which most people listen to music. Recently I started to joke that I have an image deficiency and that's why I have to consume huge amounts of visual media, I need the external infusion. But like, it's not that much of a joke, maybe.

In my 30s I randomly developed this condition where scar tissue grows over your corneas, and I had to have a series of freaky eye surgeries. My doctors always asked if I grew up somewhere warm and sunny and windy, if I do a lot of outdoor sports (sometimes this condition is called "surfer's eye"); I thought this was pretty funny since I couldn't be more of an indoor kid, although maybe cycling is somewhat at fault. Still, my preferred diagnosis is that I watch so much trashy and violent crap that it literally scars my eyes. It's as good an explanation as any! And it does have this weird synergy with my other visual problems.

Anyway, it's not as if I've done absolutely nothing with my life. Quite a few personal achievements piled up in just the last couple of years; certainly I've benefited a lot from luck and the good will of others, but nothing would have happened without my own creativity and commitment. I just wish I had more, you know. Vision. I spend too much of my life "taking one day at a time" and waiting for things to happen to me, assuming I don't have much control over my experiences. I'd rather be able to imagine something that I want to happen and act on it; regardless of whether the thing is going to happen, I'd like to be able to formulate a goal other than paying the rent, or like, not waking up and going to sleep in a state of stark terror. I'm not sure how to get myself to that place, but maybe saying that that's what I want can count for something.

Anyway here are some photos of the thoughtfully planted shrubbery from the church. I missed the full bloom of the weeping cherries, but as soon as they die off the shrubs below turn bright red, pink, yellow, and white. It's pretty inviting I must say.

#Youtube

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