howthesleeplesswander

[howthesleeplesswander]

@sansgout continued from here!

The other man's biting remarks towards the world's nosy "do-gooders" earned a fuller laugh that reverberated down the alley. "Oh, that's a good one! I'm going to have to remember that." Good to hear they were on the same page about it—not that Ken had stopped to think how awkward this may have gotten if that hadn't been the case.

And not that he was surprised by it, either. Judging from the few professional chefs he knew personally, they tended not to suffer fools lightly. The other's mysterious response didn't provide much context, leading Ken to arch a brow. Shocking to hear, considering his job, but...maybe there was something else about this particular chef that made others bite their tongues. At least Ken's conversation seemed to be welcomed enough.

"No, no, not to worry—your dishes have been nothing short of immaculate, chef." Grinning around his cigarette, he delivered the title with the same lilt as the other had used to call him sir: a customer-service voice, if he'd ever heard one. But Ken's was more playful, looser around the edges. "It's everything that came beforehand that's driving me to this."

A rapid plume of smoke rushed from his lips as he sighed. "Surely you can tell I'm from across the water. Unfortunately, I'm here for business and not for pleasure." Just the thought of the insufferable idiots back home who'd kept him in a conference call all damn day made him roll his eyes. That was exactly why they weren't here themselves right now. They didn't have Ken's knack for negotiation, nor his talent for bouncing back and pushing the day's frustrations aside.

"But, hey—what better way is there to wind down after a long day of work than with a good meal, right?" One hand tucked into his pants pocket while he tapped the ashes off the end of his cigarette with the other. "Coming out to your restaurant has saved my evening. Suppose I should be thanking you."

[howthesleeplesswander]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 1x02 - “Some Mysteries Are Better Left Unsolved” ↳ "I don't even know your name. It's Viktor."

[howthesleeplesswander]

Spring had never had many friends.

Perhaps that was surprising for someone who was so friendly. Her job allowed her to meet many people: a revolving door of faces coming through the quaint shop she'd built for herself from nothing. Customers, casual browsers, window-shoppers—all manner of city-folk who marveled at so many pretty little curiosities. Certainly friendly in return, for the most part. But all fleeting, like the flowers she sold.

No one who stayed. No one who really mattered. Until...

Suffice it to say, Spring was far from an expert on friendship. And yet, somehow she knew that what she had with Kaz felt quite different, at least from her own side. Much like the path they now walked, a turn had been taken somewhere along the way, leading them down a new trail meant only for the two of them. There were times when she couldn't help but wonder where it led. Embarrassingly, she even dared ponder what destination she may want, given the choice.

But that was silly, wasn't it? So long as she walked at Kaz's side, companionable and comfortable and absurdly aflutter just from those rare brushes of their arms, the destination didn't much matter, now did it?

Spring enjoyed their literal walk equally so. Her pace was leisurely as she took in the lovely countryside, happy for the slow stroll allowing them more time together. (And silently considerate of her cane-reliant companion.) As they approached a gentle slope, Spring gathered a few folds of her skirt in one hand to keep it raised out of the dirt.

"I wish I could," she admitted. "It is not easy for me to find the time to be away from the shop long enough to allow it." A consequence of having zero employees, she knew, but it was...safer that way. Besides, it'd be a different kind of shame to give any of the duties she so enjoyed to someone else. "But I am very glad that I was able to today," came her next confession, in a softer tone as she offered her companion a smile that was warmer than the summertime sun overhead.

Though Kaz was certainly right: she did thrive out here. It had been far too long since she'd felt the open air, the wind and sun unhindered on her skin. She felt more alive, more herself than when surrounded by civilization. Spring turned her gaze up to the blue sky, trailing over clouds and back down to a line of trees off in the distance.

"Truthfully, I would love to live somewhere like this. But, as you said, it is much better for business to be located in the city." A one-shouldered shrug conveyed her resignation to the fact. "When I am able to step away for a while, though, I usually travel to the nearest forest and spend a few days exploring." For just a moment, wistfulness wove into her tone like a leaf lilting on the breeze...before being overtaken by a laugh. "Perhaps it is inappropriate to say, but I cannot help but find those trips worth the few angry customers when I return."

@howthesleeplesswander || kaz finally got his shit together for Spring (｡-_-｡ )人( ｡-_-｡) lez go

Kaz Brekker didn’t need to make up excuses.

He didn’t need to waste entire weeks of his life pacing the creaky floorboards of his office like some anxious podge who couldn’t figure out the definition of “decisive” if it was plastered to his face. He didn’t need to reread every letter she sent, digging into each pen stroke like it held whispers of a sign that’d tell him where to go from here. He didn’t need to fabricate a reason to visit her, to spend time with her when they both (clearly) wanted it. He didn’t need to do any of this useless piffle.

So of course he did.

It was a culmination of those arduous evenings spent holed away in his quarters—mind a swirl of what-ifs and what-thens, plans taking shape and action—that finally brought him to be by Spring’s side today. And, for the very first time, beyond the crowded Ketterdam streets. Kaz had invited her out to the countryside under the pretense that he’d found her a new client: not any more of a truth than it was a lie. He’d communicated that something required her attention—her particular expertise—and suggested they go together.

Did he exercise the possibility that she might deny him . . . ? Partially. (But he’d digested her letters enough times to convince himself it was a slim chance, if one at all—logically, that is, while another side of him was still entirely perplexed by the realization.)

Together (how heavy and meaningful that word suddenly felt), the two of them walked along the dusty dirt paths woven into farmland, passing an occasional carriage that began to look exceptionally inviting for a limping fool of a man who thought the stroll would be pleasant—and another excuse to spend more time by her side. The sun felt hot, almost foreign on what it could reach of his skin, bathing his cheeks in warmth enough to somewhat redden them. (He’d forgotten to bring his hat . . . and was only mildly furious about it.) When they approached a gentle upward slope, Kaz had to bite his tongue to keep a curse behind his lips.

But it was easy to ignore that ache in his leg, even when it spiked from overuse. It was easy to ignore the heat collecting in his dark clothes. It was easy to ignore how absurd he felt about all of this . . . simply because he kept her close, walking in that proximity that granted the occasional brush of their arms. It was easy to ignore most things that bothered him, really, when in her company.

“I’m still surprised you don’t come out here more often,” he eventually supplied, breaking a small lull of quiet after their previous conversation. Kaz lifted his chin, craned his neck as if to see over the bend of the hill they climbed. “You’ve always struck me as someone who would thrive away from the city: somewhere you and your flowers won’t suffocate.” A sidelong glance brought with it the faint quirk of his lips. “Stay where the business is, I suppose.”

[howthesleeplesswander]

[howthesleeplesswander]

The Hale family had always lived by a strict rule: never turn someone against their will.

Breaking that rule only ever led to pain, heartache, anger. Torments that then led to more terrible things...and all the same feelings rolling off this kid in waves.

He didn't need to turn back to see the look on the kid's face as he confessed mistakes and regrets; he didn't need to hear the fear in the kid's voice or the plea in his painfully hopeful questions.

Derek was all too familiar with all of it.

A brief silence stretched, filled with the scuffs of their shoes on the sidewalk echoing up to the moon that would be full in only a few days time. "There are plenty of reasons why no self-respecting werewolf would turn someone against their will. You're an example of pretty much all of them." Derek shook his head, disgust pinching his brow—but not towards anything the kid said. Not his admission of hurting someone already, or his rejection of what some would call "a gift."

"Nobody should be forced into this. Honestly? If you've been 'figuring it out on your own' for this long and you've only hurt one person? You're already doing better than most."

Even now, Derek could feel the approaching full moon like a dull buzz deep in his veins. It would only grow stronger with each passing day. And for those who lacked control, that build-up of fear and dread would only make an already impossible task even more impossible.

"Learning control isn't easy, even for those of us who are born werewolves. It's painful; it takes time, discipline, guidance. It's like training a reflex. No shortcuts." After another pause, he finally threw the kid a bone, "But it is possible. To learn to control it instead of letting it control you."

Naturally then, the million dollar question came next. "I can try. I've done it before." As they approached the gate to the junkyard, Derek finally paused and turned back to the kid, pinning him with a heavy stare. "But it'll be hard—probably the hardest thing you've ever done. Are you ready for that?"

he doesn't move right away, stays rooted to the spot, staring after him with his pulse hammering like he's just swum a mile. it's not so far from how this feels — like coming up for air after something's been dragging him under, catching sight of land after weeks lost at sea.

he's never been this close to someone who actually gets it.

born a werewolf. born. what the fuck is he supposed to do with that ? how many others are out there like this, living right under everyone's noses, just existing ? like it's normal. like it's manageable. like it isn't the thing that's been consuming him from the inside out.

he never stood a chance of growing into this. he was dropped into it. torn apart by it. a body broken and stitched back together all wrong.

he forces the tinge of bitterness down as best he can, presses his lips into a thin line and jerks his head in a shallow nod, feet finally dragging themselves into motion. slowly at first — like some part of him still hasn’t decided this isn’t a trap, like maybe all he's doing is trading one threat for another — but at the very least the few paces' worth of space between them affords him some time to breathe, to process. the bag of groceries at his side swings dully with each step. it all feels surreal.

⠀ ⠀❛⠀ ⠀what if i told you i already hurt someone ? that i've been trying to figure this out on my own and just — fucking failing ? would you still help ?⠀ ⠀❜

he lets the question hang, focuses on the sound of their shoes on pavement and the air brushing cool and crisp against the back of his neck. now that he thinks about it, he's not entirely sure which response would comfort him more to hear. when he speaks next, his voice is quieter ; not defeated, not quite, but worn.

⠀ ⠀❛⠀ ⠀i didn't ask for this.⠀ ⠀❜

his fingers flex at his sides, restless.

⠀ ⠀❛⠀ ⠀whatever this is. i didn't want it. i didn't — no one warned me. no one told me how to handle it. it just ... happened. i was normal, and then i wasn't, and now every full moon i —⠀ ⠀❜

a beat. then, a short, rough laugh, low in his throat.

⠀ ⠀❛⠀ ⠀god. you've probably heard this speech a million times, huh ? some kid whining about how he can't keep it together.⠀ ⠀❜

his gaze darts to one side, features lined with a desperate tangle of wary curiosity and reluctant hope.

⠀ ⠀❛⠀ ⠀but you do keep it together. right ? you've figured out how to live with it ?⠀ ⠀❜

softer, almost a whisper —

⠀ ⠀❛⠀ ⠀can you teach me how ?⠀ ⠀❜

[howthesleeplesswander]

Suddenly he was glad for the murmurs all around them and the chatter of Liyue Harbor's nightlife. As that voice whispered into his ear, tantalizing and smooth as velvet over his skin, inexplicable possessiveness flooded Childe's veins: a rhythmic surge that matched gentle strokes atop his hand.

He didn't want anyone else to hear words that were only meant for him. He didn't want anyone else to hear Zhongli's voice sound like that.

He would be the only person with that pleasure tonight.

"Would you like it if it did?" Figuring they both knew the answer to that easily enough, he turned the question around, instead—though he didn't really expect an answer. He couldn't deny that there was a darkly satisfied part of him that thrived off knowing he could affect the great Rex Lapis himself. And it must be quite an effect, considering the evening's intentions.

"I couldn't agree more," he managed, even as the equally momentous effect of yet another kiss to his hand forced him to shove his heart back down from trying to climb up his throat.

When they arrived at Xinyue Kiosk, the staff led them to their reserved dining room with surprising decorum, considering who was now in their company. Just as lavish as Childe would've expected from one of Liyue's most renowned eateries, but it was the privacy that widened his grin an extra fraction as he took in the scene.

"You even splurged on a special menu? Now you're really spoiling me." Only once he heard the soft sound of the screen sliding shut did he lean in close again, whispering in Zhongli's ear just as his companion had done a few moments ago.

"Not to worry; I'll repay the favor later." Going a step further, Childe caught Zhongli's earlobe between his teeth, giving a playful tug as he (regrettably) pulled away from the close proximity they'd shared while walking. Crossing to the table, he shed his outer white coat and tossed it carelessly aside before settling at one of the place settings.

"Should I be worried about what qualifies as 'adventurous' food for someone as old as you are?" he asked, a curious eye casting over the lineup of concealed dishes.

“Is that so?” A mischievous glimmer set amber eyes alight. Their proximity easily enables Zhongli to lean closer and drop his voice into a whisper beside Childe’s ear, lips brushing skin faintly as he spoke. 

“Does it please you to know just how deeply you're capable of affecting me?”

As they made their way down the street, the consultant ran his thumb in gentle yet repeated motions, stroking his companion’s hand lightly. While Zhongli does not verbalise the sentiment, Childe’s admission is one that he will treasure for eons to come. Nestled in a warm spot of his own memory, closely guarded in the hopes of protecting it from time’s erosion as long as possible. 

“Perhaps now is the ideal time to begin weaving these….thoughts into reality then.”  Another chaste kiss is pressed to the back of Childe’s palm before he straightens up.

Despite being so prominently established in Liyue Harbour, Xinyue kiosk is exclusively located for private dining experiences. They are met at the door by a designated staff member as soon as they arrived at the spot.

Through their guidance, the two of them will eventually find themselves situated in a spacious room. Separated from outside prying eyes with sliding screen doors. On the opposing end, another led outwards onto a small balcony with a view of the harbour's lights and the night sky.

Several dishes were already brought to the table, covered with intricately patterned cloches to hide it's contents.

"I hope you don't mind my taking some liberties with tonight's menu. Given that you have sampled a fair share of liyuen cuisine during your trips, I thought it best to curate something more....adventurous."

@howthesleeplesswander

[howthesleeplesswander]

No sooner had Viktor caved than his biggest fear regarding this whole farcical ordeal nearly came true. Just when it seemed they'd conquered the lengthy staircase without incident, Jayce's feet stumbled. The world pitched entirely out of his control. Despite himself, Viktor grabbed at Jayce's clothes again as if he could've somehow prevented their falling just by holding on tight enough.

Luckily, the scare was only that. A few native swears tumbled free, briefly thickening his accent until—finally—his partner came to his senses.

Viktor grumbled as he was set back on his feet, taking an extra few moments after they touched the ground to truly find his footing again. His heart still raced like a machine pushed into overdrive...the cause of which Viktor chose to believe was the near-disaster and nothing more. A few sharp tugs straightened the rumples in his waistcoat.

Meeting the other man's beaming with a fierce glare, Viktor barely restrained his strength when he whacked Jayce on the arm with the head of his cane. "Do not do that again." The reprimand was even sharper than the blow, and while he didn't voice as much, Viktor silently swore revenge. He may have been a fool to have dismissed Jayce's mothering threats, but Jayce would be the fool to not worry about the consequences of...that.

"You'd better," he said instead as he started to follow Jayce down the corridor. "In fact, since you're the one who's so insistent upon me eating a meal, it's only logical for it to be your treat." The zaunite's smirk was clear proof that this was punishment for Jayce's little stunt. Part one, at least. And while the rhythmic clack of his cane on the tile floor normally would have calmed his heartbeat, Jayce, like usual, worked against his efforts of composure without even trying.

'Somewhere he'd been wanting to take him'? Had he really thought about this? It shouldn't be surprising—that was simply the kind of person Jayce was: always considerate, always thinking of others (even when those thoughts led him to do ridiculous things). Yet Viktor still couldn't help being surprised to be on the receiving end, at times.

"Somehow, I'm not sure I trust your judgement at the moment," Viktor quipped dryly with a raised brow. "For all I know, your restaurant of choice will prove as threatening to my health as your ridiculous whims." Not that he could complain about the positives that had come out of this situation: spending additional time with his partner, yes, but most of all? He'd be able to hold this over the other's head for a good long time. The gleam in his eyes was equal parts mischief and genuine interest. "Is it somewhere you go frequently?"

On the opposite end of things, this wasn’t all that novel for someone like Jayce; even if this specific scenario was indeed new between them, he typically wasn’t shy about being a more hands-on kind of guy. The people in his life (and that had to include Viktor by now) were aware, and for the most part, those people graciously accepted it, returned it, took the shows of affection as easily as if they were merely having to say a simple “hello” to a friend passing by. In their time spent together, Jayce had gathered Viktor wasn’t as receptive to this attention . . . but, he’d also gathered it was just a part of who he was.

It had nothing to do with Jayce personally. (So, he didn’t take it personally.) It had nothing to do with some nebulous tension in their relationship. Viktor was just . . . like that.

And Jayce— Well, he tried to respect it most of the time. (This time didn’t count.)

Just like this time definitely felt different. Because as soon as their arguing ceased and Jayce’s playfulness simmered down for the sake of caution while he descended those steps, the ridiculousness of their position not only awakened a little flutter of embarrassment, but something else entirely. Hard to say where it came from: if the shift in mood was steered predominantly by a weighted silence from his partner or Jayce getting lost in his own head. But all too abruptly, it wasn’t just the echoing sound of his footsteps filling his mind; the rhythm in his chest spiked and drummed louder—and, call him cocky, but he knew it had nothing to do with being winded physically.

He’d barely had the chance to consider it further—to consider how every point of contact between them (which was a lot) suddenly felt all-consuming, to consider how a little flip in his stomach somehow just made him want to hold Viktor closer still—when Viktor’s voice cut through the bewildering mess. Jayce might as well have been on a far-off cloud in the sky, the way he had to yank himself back to the present and mentally chain his ankles to the ground. Foolishly, it took him a sluggish second to decipher what Viktor had even said. Equally foolishly, upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, he momentarily fumbled over his own feet. (And again, it had nothing to do with his legs and all to do with his head.)

“Sorry—!” That apology tripped out of his lips on a higher pitch than usual, and even Jayce couldn’t be sure if it was directed at his clumsiness or at Viktor’s final reprimand. At that second, he relinquished, taking extra care to set Viktor down steadily before giving him a once-over . . . and just barely resisting reaching out again to smooth some wrinkles out of his outfit. (So, he just ended up running his palms down the front of his own, instead.)

Then, and only then, did he fully grasp what Viktor’s submission even meant. And he was lighting up immediately.

“‘Satisfy’ me? No, this thrills me,” he said while grinning. The temporary lapse from before seemed mostly gone . . . or his voice was back to its regular pitch, at the very least. “And you won’t be disappointed, promise. I’ll make it up to you.” Jayce maneuvered around him, pivoting to walk backwards and really make sure his partner kept his word. “Or, like I said, you’ll get back at me. Either one.” A shrug, like he wasn’t concerned about those possibilities. “There’s this place I’ve been wanting to take you, and before you say anything, it’s not super fancy; I think you’ll like it! You can punish me later if not.”

[howthesleeplesswander]

[ txt ] concept: [ txt ] we fuck on one of the conference room tables at strexa [ txt ] before the office closes down and we can't anymore :( [ txt ] btw i'm hungry wanna meet up?

// you know who this is for. sasha hadn't bothered his boy in awhile :|c

Answered! || @thrillvibin

[ txt ] you beautiful evil genius [ txt ] this is why i love you [ txt ] FUCK yes [ txt ] to both obvs

As if Sasha needed to ask in either case. Even though Strexa was in the process of shutting down for good, Mishka knew that Dima was still holding plenty of meetings with plenty of stuffy-suited people about all the official details. Sounded like a whole lot of boring shit he was glad he didn't have to be involved in.

Now he just had to figure out which conference room Dima had scheduled next...

[howthesleeplesswander]

// Hey Casi, HEY CASI!!! ❤️❤️❤️ A reminder that you are just the most wonderful bean and that you are so, SO loved, okay? YOU ARE A WINNER!!! YES YOU ARE! YOU ARE SPLENDIFEROUS!!! MUACK MUACK MUACK in your direction, always!!! ❤️💕

((AHHHHHH I am soooo SO sorry that it took me so long to answer this! 🥺 You are so darn sweet, thank you so much for sending this love in, my friend! ;w;/ YOU ARE A WONDERFUL WINNER TOO and I'm forever sending all the hearts and love back your way!! ❤️❤️❤️💞💞💞))

[howthesleeplesswander]

((Hi, everyone! I'm so sorry about my sudden disappearance and lack of activity both IC and OOC recently. ❤️ It took some time, but I'm finally ready to talk about some things here.

In all honesty, I've been going through an incredibly difficult patch IRL these past couple of months. I've been insanely stressed out to a point where I felt like I couldn't take the time to be here. I want to clarify that it's not that I don't want to be here, or that I don't want to interact with all of my incredible partners and followers. I've simply felt the need to step away from Tumblr for a while for my own mental well-being.

Please don't take my slowness and/or lack of response IC or OOC as a sign that I'm not enjoying talking with you or that I don't want to write with you, because that couldn't be further from the truth! You're all so wonderful, and I truly love every thread and conversation I have going with all of you.

Similarly, I want to be clear that I am not abandoning this blog!

Unfortunately, I'm not out of the woods yet—in fact, it's the sort of situation where I have no idea when I will be and when things will be better. BUT! Enough time has passed that I'm finally feeling okay enough to let myself be around a bit more again.

TL;DR I'm going to make an effort to let myself spend time here more often. My reply speed both IC and OOC will likely still be much slower than usual, however, so I ask that you: a) please be patient with me while I work through this patch of stress and uncertainty, and b) please rest assured that I still love and am fully invested in all of my chats and interactions with all of you and will not be abandoning any of it or this blog.

Thank you for reading this far and for standing by me through all of this. I hope to be able to return to regularly-scheduled blogging soon, but in the meantime, I want to try to do what I can. ❤️))

[howthesleeplesswander]

There his partner went again: giving him far more credit than he deserved. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," Kazuma chuckled at his own expense. He wouldn't make excuses for his past decisions, but he was nothing if not a fast learner. He would never make those mistakes again.

And yet he certainly felt a fool beneath Ryunosuke's gaze. It was nothing short of dangerous how the attention of those eyes made the city around them fade away as heat crawled in their wake. He couldn't be anything but a fool for not realizing that this should have been his purpose all along. Not vengeance; simply the desire—no, the need—to prove himself a man worthy of the adoration in that stare. How could anything else have ever mattered more than this?

Again: he wouldn't repeat that mistake, either.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that sounded suspiciously like an invitation," Kazuma teased with a twinkle in his eye. In all fairness, he supposed both of them were well past the point of caring about scandal, all things considered. Still, he'd be lying if he said that Ryunosuke's fearlessness in the face of it didn't excite him. He quirked a brow at his partner, almost in a dare. After all, Ryunosuke's assessment was spot-on: Kazuma didn't care in the slightest. Why, he could imagine the headlines now...

But before he could do anything rash, mention of their...escapades in the Yumei University library triggered a devious thought. "Neither have I." The agreement rode out on a heated tone; one that would surely be deemed inappropriate for the public, if London's citizens ever paused their bustling long enough to overhear. His gaze lingered on that impish smile.

"You know," he began, words slow and thoughtful, the creep of lava across scorched earth, "there is a library in the Old Bailey. I'll admit that's a bit...generous of a term for it; it's only one room, full of legal tomes and reference books so the staff have easy access." Releasing one of Ryunosuke's hands allowed him to hold the other in both of his own. He barely resisted the desire to kiss his fingertips as he drew it towards himself. Instead, one grip slid down, cradling his wrist as he held Ryunosuke's palm over his heartbeat, the opposite thumb gently caressing across his knuckles. "Perhaps I should show you once we've had our fill of the Exhibition. See if we can't recreate some of those memories from university, hm?"

“You’re not a fool, Kazuma,” Ryunosuke countered, the fondness in his partner’s eyes reflected with a dash of exasperation. “Ridiculous, sure. But that hasn’t changed; one might say I’m exceptionally well-trained in handling it.” He maintained that fluttery air of impishness—both natural and his own private means of preventing this conversation from utterly destroying him out here beneath the public eye. Wouldn’t be the first time, of course. The public gallery, at the very least, got to witness this strange little foreigner trip over himself on plenty of occasions in the Old Bailey, but Ryunosuke concluded if he had any power over stopping it . . . he’d certainly try.

But Kazuma continued to look at him like that. Brimming with so many emotions that should’ve been as expertly handled as the man’s “ridiculousness.” Because Kazuma had, for as long as he could remember, held him in such devastatingly high regard no matter what transpired, no matter how much he stumbled his way through most everything life tossed at him, no matter the instances where Ryunosuke dared to say he fell short. Kazuma always loved him. Logically, it’d make sense to just eventually get used to that, wouldn’t it? Where his breath wouldn’t catch in his throat when he met the adoration practically burning in the other’s gaze, where his knees wouldn’t almost buckle beneath him like a lovesick child all over again—

Goodness . . . that was just it. As much as he could get used to Kazuma’s quirks, to his headstrong perseverance, to his ridiculous antics (a different flavor than the antics of a certain detective, naturally)—

Ryunosuke perhaps needed to accept he’d never get used to Kazuma.

It was as hopeless as trying to breathe in the undertow, and how fitting that was. Kazuma always had a way of yanking him along, while Ryunosuke always had a way of letting it happen.

And he’d continue to. Again and again.

Thankfully, since he was so very accustomed to his partner’s ways, when Kazuma loomed that much closer, he managed to hold his own. No move was made to reestablish any proper distance, but he in turn angled his head to meet Kazuma’s eyes, his brows lifting with mock astonishment at an audacity he’d come to expect. “Oh, are you rather certain of that—?” he challenged. Slowly, and with a mix of playful intent and his own inability to resist, his attention skirted down to the lips hovering in an intimate proximity. Ryunosuke carefully inhaled, exhaled.

He looked back up. “You and I both know you don’t care about etiquette anyway. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the university library.” And as much as he kept a level tone, the mere thought of what . . . activities just so happened to occur there betrayed him with a fresh shudder down his spine. Ryunosuke shook his head as he relented, “If the ‘temptation’ is truly so great, Kazuma, we can at least practice a similar discretion here.” It wasn’t as if he was as against the idea as he should be . . . and, save him, Kazuma had to know that, as well.

He really was far too weak for this man.

[howthesleeplesswander]

another surprise starter for @thrillvibin bc jfc mishka is the most pathetic, needy muse i've ever had and that's saying something aslfjsd

"So...you probably have questions, right?"

Only a few pieces remained of their pizza, the box mostly empty where it sat atop the mattress between their splayed legs. Normally Mishka didn't care for the food at Strexa—it always felt too fancy, like it was trying too damn hard—but even though it wasn't nearly as greasy or cheesy as either of them preferred, the pizza had still tasted like heaven after days of starvation while in captivity.

From the moment he'd been taken, Mishka had known that nothing would ever be the same (assuming he even made it out alive). The secret was out. Over a decade of lies, of trying so hard to protect Sasha from all of this...and now he was so far beyond involved. Why did Mishka have to be so fucking selfish?

He never would have guessed how much Sasha had changed while he was gone. And now that he was back, for the first time since...hell, since childhood, probably—they'd actually talked. Really talked. About them, their relationship, their wants and feelings, and everything that had gone wrong. All because Sasha had been so afraid of losing him. (The way Mishka's heart couldn't help but flutter at that thought was pretty damning evidence of his own problems.)

But even counting all of that...

He wasn't sure that Sasha would even want to talk about the rest. At least, maybe not yet—not after everything they'd already shared. Still, the whole "assassin" thing was the last elephant in the room. The least Mishka could do after everything Sasha had confessed was try to clear the air once and for all.

"About all this, I mean," he clarified, twirling a hand in the air to indicate the room, the entire tower, and everything that meant. His arm flopped back down around the other's shoulders where he was tucked into Mishka's uninjured side, giving a gentle squeeze. "You can ask, if you want. I won't lie to you anymore."

[howthesleeplesswander]

“Oh, Basil Bo~oy! I saw a flower growing between the sidewalk cracks on my way here and thought of you! ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ It definitely got run over by a bike two seconds later, but it was, like, super cute before that happened. ♡”

Answered! || @falsiliar

"You—...really thought about me?" Not that 'seeing any kind of plant and thinking of Basil' was all that special. It made sense; everyone knew he loved gardening. But that wasn't the part of Kokichi's sentiment that gave him pause.

'Super cute'...? What was that supposed to mean??

Basil hesitated, waiting for Kokichi to take back the words or morph them into an insult any second. When nothing more was said after a few beats of staring, however, Basil's eyes quickly averted to the ground.

"That's...kind of you." He felt the blush rising to his cheeks and desperately tried to fight it down before he could be ridiculed for it. "D-don't worry about the bike, though—wildflowers are actually pretty resilient, so...it's probably fine."

[howthesleeplesswander]

Just as he was about to show his friend a bit of mercy and snatch the phone before it could plummet, Sasha finally managed it himself. Mishka's laughter echoed into the night, nearly drowning out the club's pounding music.

"What was that juggling act? You jumped so hard you looked like you were going to go to the moon!" Mishka wheezed between cackles. Any attempt to block the onslaught of slaps was halfhearted at best. He barely felt it through the flood of affection in his chest that was basically a constant whenever he was with Sasha.

Once the attack relented, he threw an arm around the other's shoulders and leaned back into his personal space. "I think your phone just used up all of its nine lives. Probably should try not to drop it again." Eyeing the device, Mishka's amusement mellowed when he caught the name at the top of the text conversation on-screen. "Ugh. What does he want?"

The question about his own lateness merely earned a shrug. "I was across town; you know how slow the buses are." At least the excuse was only half a lie this time. Sasha didn't need to know he'd been running behind because he'd sprinted all the way here from Strexa Tower after his own boss kept him later than planned for a briefing. As if the guy wasn't infuriating enough...

But it was easy to shove thoughts of work aside now that they were together again. Mishka's grin quickly returned, this time edging into mischievous. "Why, did I keep you waiting long?"

“Ugh . . . are you fucking kidding me?” 

A disgruntled murmur was lost beneath the din of the lively street, and for a guy who claimed to be cautious, Sasha was exceptionally unaware of his surroundings in the minutes leading up to his friend’s approach. He remained locked in the glow of his phone, brightness of the screen washing over the twisted scowl on his face as he scrolled through a disturbance to this fun evening. Tomorrow was supposed to be his day off . . . which was why the consequences of a long night out wouldn’t have been a problem until now—

His thumbs tapped on the keys, a rightly peeved message to his boss along the lines of, “Can’t you get someone else to do it?” forming in the text box. But just as he was about to hit “Send,” a voice not only heard right by his ear, but felt in a hot breath caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

Sasha’s phone became a hot potato, bouncing around his hands an impressive number of times before he snagged it and successfully avoided catastrophe. He swung around, his brain catching up to exactly who was looming behind him in time to tell his heart to calm down— Though that didn’t stop him from batting at Mishka’s arm scornfully.

“What! Is! Wrong with you!?” His words were accentuated by harmless slaps, but despite it all, he couldn’t prevent the smile growing on his face. “You’re the worst! I was this close to decking you!” He waved his phone in Mishka’s face, and Sasha shook his head as he finally relented. “What took you so long?”

[howthesleeplesswander]

-crashes in after my months long hiatus to sprinkle- ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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Answered! || @grislyintentions

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[howthesleeplesswander]

Basil wasn't sure if it was possible to ever really get used to Kokichi, but he'd learned how to endure long before the town's newcomer ever moved in.

It wasn't that his heart was immune. Insults and cruelty didn't bounce harmlessly off like a knife against armor and leave him unfazed. (Basil wished that were the case—that he could be fearless like Kel, or confident like Hero.)

He felt every word as a stab to his heart. But then the shadow roiling at his back absorbed that knife before it could dig too deep in what may look like mercy, if only it knew such a thing. The Something did not pity. It did not spare. It only added that new weapon to its teeth: a promise of pain that would come later, in the darkness where it always took hold.

Still, Basil upheld his smile as if being called "naturally pitiful" was praise for some kind of innate talent: always ensuring his shadows were locked away where no one else could see. Kokichi's sudden shift in tone didn't give him quite as much whiplash as it used to, although he still blinked at the other boy once he stood opposite the bench, lagging to catch up.

"O-oh, well—" Basil un-crumpled the top of the bag and opened it enough to show inside. "It's just seeds, mostly." A hand reached in and withdrew a few seed packets, both for flowers and garden veggies. "Polly used up all the carrots, so I thought I'd plant some more. And I've been wanting to try growing some zinnias...Oh! I got a new pair of pruning shears, too; my old ones were pretty dull."

Not that he thought Kokichi cared about gardening, but he knew by now that it was easiest to just go along with whatever he asked. "Sorry," he said automatically as he dropped the seeds back into the bag. Hard to tell if the apology was for the supplies that Kokichi would no doubt find boring, for the obvious question—or for what he was about to say next. This little sunflower never really learned, did he? "But...I-I really don't think she deserves to be called that..." Gaze dropping, Basil picked at a frayed strand of plastic on one of the bag's handles. "Just because we're not friends anymore doesn't mean she's...y-you know. That."

@howthesleeplesswander || cont.

It was always the quiet ones.

Or the ones who remained locked up in their homes and hadn’t seen the light of day in literal years. . . . That guy tooootally wasn’t a creep and definitely didn’t have about a thousand skeletons in his closet and under his bed, but since dragging him out of his cocoon of shadiness seemed mostly impossible, Kokichi had to focus on the former—

So he did.

With increasing frequency, whenever he had the chance (and Basil actually answered his door when someone came knocking, so that made things way easier).

Kokichi didn’t know what had happened. Of course he didn’t know, beyond the attempt at hush-hush talk that inevitably spread like locusts through any small town. Something about a girl named Mari. Or—cute, but no; let’s get real here: Everything about a girl named Mari. And everything about this little group of pals who now all behaved like complete weirdos around each other ever since the Incident (capitalized). Aubrey and Kel had to be the most insufferable: Aubrey with her “tough girl” schtick thinking waving a bat around and barking insults was the A+ coping mechanism and absolutely covered her insecurities really really well; Kel with his grating optimism as if he wasn’t soaking his pillow with tears each night.

And then there was Basil.

It was always the quiet ones. Always the quiet ones. And something about this little doormat had Kokichi intrigued since day one.

(There was no way—no way—this kid wasn’t hiding something.)

He played this game with him, poking and prodding at him whenever he could—at every turn keeping a sharp eye on the faintest reaction. Even now, pressed against his back, Kokichi sharpened his focus on the minor flinch, on his efforts to make himself smaller as usual, on the stammering that poured out quietly, but with a noticeable difference of inflection since they first met. (Noticeably—even mildly—more comfortable. . . . Never a good idea with Kokichi.) He absorbed it all. Filed it away. And pressed forward with no evidence of his process.

“Oh! No, you know what? You’re right.” His head flopped to the other side, the tone of his voice carrying a pout Basil couldn’t currently see. “You’re just naturally pitiful. My bad. Super dumb of me. Won’t happen again.” And then Kokichi leaned forward on his toes, craning his neck in a feeble attempt to better see what was in that shopping bag . . . as if he actually gave a crap. “Oooh! What’d’ya get, Basil! What is it? Something for me? Show me!” With an excitable little bounce, he came around to Basil’s front, still curiously eyeing the mysterious contents in his lap.

But, of course, as a quick sidenote, “I swiped this from a baby on my way over.” He brandished the lollipop before sticking it back in his mouth. “—is what the pink bitch might say. Because, like . . . wow, now you’re sharing spit with a baby. Sooo cool and hygienic and scary.” Kokichi waved a dramatic hand in the air, eyes rolling. “Uh, ya doy; I came from the candy shop. Deduction 100.”

[howthesleeplesswander]

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Answered! || @ghoststellar

((AHHHHH YOU ARE SO INCREDIBLY SWEET MY FRIEND ;//A//; all the same back at you!! ;w;/ I absolutely adore your blog and all of your phenomenal muses!! ❤️❤️❤️))