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MidReal Story
The Letters' Forbidden Love
Scenario:I would like to write this story in character dialogue: In a world where letters are live, F, a black F that wears a black hoodie and has hands and feet and is insane a lot and does crazy things and has sharp teeth and is male and usually says f or words that start with f, Z, a white Z that wears a black bowtie and is a spy and is British and is friends with S and lives and takes care of F and killed Y and is male and whenever he says words that have an s he says a z in its place, and S, a green S that wears a blue cap and a lanyard with a keycard and is a truck driver and is friends with F and Z and is male and has a Southern accent. Z and F are at home on the couch watching T.V and F leans on Z's shoulder and Z asks F what he was doing, and F snuggles with Z and Z blushes and lets F snuggle and he tells F not to let anyone know about this.
Create my version of this story
F
playful, and affectionate. F often leans on his friend Z for comfort and support. He has sharp teeth and enjoys causing trouble. Despite his antics, he values his friendship with Z deeply. F's relationship with Z is complex, filled with playful banter and deep affection.
Z
witty, and caring. Z often finds himself caught up in F's antics but remains loyal to their friendship. He has a quirk where he replaces "s" sounds with "z." Z harbors deep feelings for F but struggles to express them openly due to societal norms.
"What were you up to, mate?" Z asked.
F looked up at him.
It was hard to see his face in the dark, but the light of the TV played on his features enough for F to see one of his eyebrows rise.
"What makes you think I was up to somethin’?"
F asked.
"You’re all over me," Z said.
"You’re always a bit wild, F," he said.
"But you’re wild in a way that gives people space. Tonight, you’re… feral."
F laughed.
"Y’ve got a way with words," he said.
Z leaned back into the couch.
He didn’t know what to say.
He had walked into the room and found F leaning against the wall.
F had looked… off.
The other letters had seemed fine, but F had been leaning against the wall and staring at his feet as if he could see something on the toe of one of his sneakers that no one else could.
Z had sat down next to him and F had immediately leaned against him.
That wasn’t unusual.
What was unusual was that F hadn’t stopped leaning against him since he sat down.
F often touched people, but it wasn’t usually in a way that allowed for so much physical contact.
Leaning on someone was a big part of any relationship and F just didn’t do that very often.
He liked to be able to move around and cause chaos, which was also unusual for him.
"Felix?" he asked.
Its ok, mate.
I’m just a bit… cold, I zuppose.
"F cold?" Z asked.
F shifted his weight on the couch.
He pressed closer to Z, and Z could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt.
The TV flickered in the background, casting shadows on the walls.
F’s fingers traced idle patterns on Z’s shoulder, and Z tensed.
He didn’t pull away, though.
He shifted a bit, so F could lean on him better.
The room felt smaller than it had before, and F’s breathing slowed to match Z’s rhythm.
F’s arm slid across Z’s chest and Z caught his wrist gently.
F froze, waiting for him to say something.
Z hesitated.
He didn’t know what to say.
He’d never been in this position before with F.
But he didn’t want to make F move away from him either.
So he guided F’s arm around himself, letting him stay where he was. He glanced nervously at the curtained windows, but they were closed tight and no one could see inside.
F settled into the new position with a little smile that showed off his sharp teeth.
The TV’s glow flickered across the room, casting shadows on the walls.
F shifted his weight on the couch, nestling deeper into Z’s side.
Z’s bowtie brushed against F’s hoodie when he shifted to let him get comfortable.
F yawned, his sharp teeth catching the light of the TV.
He was usually a bit manic, but tonight he felt… settled.
Z’s arm tightened around him protectively and F felt a sense of calm wash over him.
Z’s usual proper posture softened as he leaned back into the couch.
The British spy show playing in the background became just background noise as F’s breathing slowed.
F traced idle circles on Z’s chest with his finger, testing if he’d stop him.
"Why are you really here, Felix?" Z asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
F hesitated, then sighed. "I needed to be somewhere that felt safe, Z."
Z's heart skipped a beat as he processed the weight of F's words.