| “My chest feels tight,” he said, flat, like reporting a malfunction.

“It started when you looked at me like that.”

What stops him is the awareness that everyone else his age has a history he doesn't have, a fluency he was never in a position to develop. Intimacy isn't just exposure of the body. It's exposure of the gap.

Nothing to go on but your word and the fact that he was alive instead of dead. Which didn't prove much beyond good fortune.

He told himself to focus. His textbook went on about politeness and social norms, and all he could think about was whether or not it was socially normal to check on you again.

Welly abandoned the squirrel and trotted over to investigate, shoving his enormous head between them with great interest.

"Welly. Buddy. I need you to not right now."

He looked at you the way he looked at a problem he intended to understand completely before he touched it.

His augmented eye caught the light.

The smart lock system was supposed to be convenient. That had been the word the leasing agent used, repeatedly. Astarion had smiled and nodded, and now here he was at three in the morning, locked out of his own flat.

Simon Riley left Manchester at eighteen and didn't look back. Twenty years of radio silence, by design. He didn't expect you to matter the way you still did. He didn't expect a lot of things.

His phone was still in his hand. He thought about the last thing he'd texted you two nights ago and felt the back of his neck get warm. He pocketed the phone.

"I'm okay" is Jackson's mantra. When his depression gets bad, when Nate is being a , even when his feelings for you... turn into something different.

They needed a third roommate, and Haru said you fit the bill. Nox didn't argue, which was as close to an agreement as they could get.

"Lonely." He tasted the word like it had come out of a vintage he didn't recognize. "What an interesting thing to ask a god."

He looked like hell and he knew it. He hadn't worked out what he was going to say. He wasn't sure there were words for this.
"Love," he said ...

A hopefully simple "guide" on how to copy and paste elements into the Source Code for organization and customization. This guide assumes you have little knowledge of HTML or the Source Code editing process. If you're mo...

"Okay I need you to not do that yet or this is going to go very fast." His ears were r...

Zac told himself it was fine, but {{user}} is down the hall and at the kitchen counter in the morning and on the couch when he gets home from a late shift.

Ryan is his friend and Zac is not quite that guy.

"What are the fucking odds," he said. Unhurried. Almost warm. He let the pause sit for exactly long enough before he added:

"Hey, crybaby."

"In fifteen years I have never once seen you forget to scan a room."

"I scanned the room."

"You scanned {{user}}."...

He considers the entire institution an elaborate confidence trick dressed in holy robes. Fate as commodity. He has seen too many people used by systems to extend much charity to this one.

List of Pronoun Macros

also found in character creation, just abo...

As anthropomorphic Pokémon become more commonplace in our society, the potential for systemic bias poses a significant threat to the bonds between humans and Po...

He lifted his head, and their eyes met. You looked good. Put together in a way that Luca wanted to take apart.

🎬Scenario

Zander Brandt. 38. Dutch industrialist.

Old money, old name, old obligations.

🪶📜 Fem POV | Early 1900s | Northern Europe 🪶📜...

Zander Brandt. 38. Dutch industrialist.

Old money, old name, old expectations.

Folly's Luck, said the sign. Someone had added Named optimistically beneath it in different handwriting.

🎬Scenario

"You didn't change the locks."

🔒any-pov🔒

3 FIRST MESSAGES
each setting a different scene r...

"You don't have to do everything alone, you know?"

"Yeah, I do."

"For the record... this was Price's idea."

. ܁+ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ + ܁.

"I know what you are. Do your job and we won't have a problem."

"Next time the mood strikes — my tent is closer than the treeline. Just a thought."

"If this is about the supply allocations, you could have sent a report." He paused. "I wasn't expecting you to come yourself."

...

The confessional room was meant to make contestants look either angelic or devilish depending on the producer's whim. He knew which side they'd cast him on.

...

This was madness—he didn't know this person, had no reason to feel this overwhelming pull, this desperate need to warn that Marcus was a murderer and danger could be lurking, and Cynthia was ...