#hence the constant headaches

[aashiyancha]

Does Ares actually need those glasses or is it a fashion statement?

Not only can he not see without them, he can't hear without them either

[crabs-nonsense]

Holy shit! I just realized the reason I couldn't fucking see darker art on my phone screen is because I forgot I turned the brightness way down last night and never fixed it. I feel so stupid.

[eldritch-spouse]

Man, I want to do a bonding moment with Cero, Patches, Mervin, Morell, Berle, Livius and Vorago by bathing together and washing each other. Like possibly no horny, just me and one of the boys relaxing and washing each other's bodies.

Bathing together (no hanky panky)

Getting Cero to fully relax in a shared bath is hard. He's used to having his own baths at the end of the day, with no one there to bother him, without having to maintain a constant air of immaculateness.

Having you there already makes the process something he needs to "perform" in, thus he's initially slightly irritated. Hence, he insists that you sit between his legs, back turned to him, so that Cero can freely smile and sag and just be a person... He's fairly quiet, for once, and hums to whatever you may ramble about. Bath time is an unwinding moment for him, so it should be one for you too, even if he finds it hard to be completely "mannerless" in front of you. This means that you can swear all you want, make all the dirty jokes and splash around like an animal. Cero will not judge you.

Eventually, he becomes comfortable enough to make his own less than refined quips and air out some of his shortcomings/grievances.

What happens in bath time stays in bath time, do not break this vow or Cero will break some of your bones.

Patches often neglects taking care of himself.

To be fair, given the stagnation of plenty of his bodily functions, it's not as if the dullahan naturally produces foul body odors, but his earthy smell does become more pronounced. You must drag him into a bathtub yourself. Only then will he slump and accept his fate.

Patches is pretty quick in taking care of his own body and mostly makes the whole thing about you. Is he collecting stray hairs that fall as he washes you? Possibly. But he's also just basking in the feeling of cuddling with you in a body of water, which is new entirely to him.

He takes to removing his head, simply because wetting it too much is not ideal to its longevity.

The perks of having Patches around shine here, as he likely has some freaky little magic bathbomb he impulse bought stored somewhere.

Mervin usually has long baths after a headache-worthy job. And he doesn't really advise you join them on those, because he's mostly quiet, possibly wounded, and thinking of everything he just did- If he did anything wrong. That's no mindset to listen to you or even be remotely affectionate.

He has this tendency to make sure the bathroom is spotless before getting in. Because he will not, refuses to, undress in a "stained pigstall". You're the first to come in, undress and get in, he doesn't tell you why he does this but it's the same reason he'll sometimes walk slightly behind his brothers in more crowded zones, to make sure they're safe. Muscle memory. You're forbidden from changing the temperature, if you find it cold then he supposes you can rub up on him for warmth like the needy creature you are.

You're washed first, more gently than you'd expect from him. Mervin repeatedly swats your hands away when you try to return the favor, you'll have to insist until he feigns exhaustion. His pleased rumbling is subtle but definitely audible.

Morell usually doesn't have time for baths, it's all fast showers and walking around kinda wet. But when he does take the time to bathe, especially with you, it's kind of a game.

Rub a dub dub, get yer ass in tha tub- He'll push you in there, don't doubt him. He likes doing this thing where he stays outside the tub while he bathes you, and gets in when he thinks you've been sufficiently scrubbed.

The shroom is either humming or whistling, and it's really bizarre to watch him shake water off his cap. By the way, prime opportunity to touch his neck. Just letting you know. Especially since Morell keeps his eyes mostly closed while you're washing him back.

When he truly relaxes, he's capable of falling asleep holding onto you. Shake him awake before the water gets cold.

Berle is also another one that doesn't usually bathe. He just doesn't have the patience to sit there and stare at the ceiling blowing bubbles.

If you realistically want him to sit still, then let him eat in the tub. This will not have an effect on his digestion. He's going to be his usual chatterbox self and hardly do anything to actually clean either of you until he probably starts feeling a little cold... Berle is unintentionally really fast in his ministrations and may hurt you with his claws, so remind him to calm down every now and then. You are likely to get tickled if you take too long washing him.

Really, Berle is trying really hard to stay in the tub with you and relax, but you can tell his mind drifts off after a while and he's thinking of a million different things he could be doing. It's not your fault, he just can't stay still.

Bathing with Livius is interesting. He tends to let his limbs flop over the edge of the tub.

This is essentially going to be a game of mimic. He only starts washing when you do, following the same order as you and trying to get your timing down. For this reason, you either mutually wash each other at the same time, or he asks you to wash him first.

Livius tries to guess what type of bath bomb you'd like better, or if you'd like any at all. Getting it wrong will have him sulking for a while.

Conversation flows as easily as you allow it to, and he's perfectly fine with allowing you to play with his horns, so long as he gets to play with your ears and nose. It's in moments like this that he truly covets your body. Not necessarily in a carnal way (though the impulse is there), he just loves how you look and wishes to be in your body.

Vorago has written this moment several times. The shared bath between two lovers. Granted, those took place in fairly more fantastical settings, but still, Vorago is very excited. And flustered.

Vorago has to make sure this is perfect for you, but part of him worries that he's being too corny if he goes with too many pink things around or the petals... Lords he really wants to make it a romantic thing but he knows he's going to look like a complete ass. He helps you in like a gentleman and is extremely docile as he washes you, but there's definitely moments where you'll feel him smell you. Vorago can only curb his delight up to a certain point.

Be prepared for the workload if you try to wash him back, because taming his thick and voluptuous hair is a feat. He certainly enjoys it, rumbling deep and loud and probably dark in the face from all the attention. He wishes he could take a photo of this moment, write it all out, it's so perfect. It's beautiful.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

My pupils

Ungrateful, Arrogant, Lazy, there were many words Kalego could use to describe his students. Many of them were imbeciles. Undisciplined. Hence why he was placed in charge of such a rowdy bunch.

He had had troublesome students before. It was no different than any other year he taught at the school. However... he never took into account how difficult the next few years would be.

To think it all started with one brat! The grandson of the chairdemon himself. He honestly wished he could have gone back in time and retired as soon as he heard about the attendance of such a creature.

His foolish pride had thought he could tame such a wild child within a few days. Having him easily under heel. He couldn't have been more wrong.

That little menace had the nerve to prove him wrong! Having no respect for authority and tuning him into a familiar. The audacity!

It wasn't just him that caused the teacher such a headache. No, he had twelve other rascals to handle as well. What did he do in his past life to enable such torture?

Individually, it probably wouldn't be so bad. But no... he had them all together. Everyday... for the next 6 agonizing years.

He often wondered if he'd survive such a daunting task for so long. Of course, his pride wouldn't allow him to quit. It would be shameful on both the school and his name if he were to do so.

So, as much as it pained him, he would stay. Despite the urge to resign. Truthfully, someone would probably drag him back even if he were to do so. Another irritating reality.

Some things were easy to brush off. Such as Allocers constant questions and interest in obtaining more knowledge. Just answer plainly offering research materials for reference.

Or working around Kerori's work schedule as an idol. As well as sending her study aids so she doesn't risk lowering her grades. Practically child's play.

Now, dealing with Jazz's sticky fingers could be annoying. Forcing apologies out of the young demon and attempting to keep the greedy child humble.

Not that it helped since he had an enabler like Lied. The cocky little imp thinking he could get away with such childish pranks so easily. He often had to discipline the pair.

Speaking discipline... he still needed to figure out a proper punishment for Kamui... again. Why is it so difficult for that bird brain to understand that the female students don't appreciate such actions? He has the nerve to call himself a gentleman with such an attitude.

At least he could say he's also seen growth in some of his students. Take Sabro, for example. That prideful attitude of his was far more manageable than when the child first arrived. Far more humble.

Or Soi, who constantly hid. Now, he actively participates and interacts with his classmates. A vast improvement.

If only he could get Picero to stop sleeping in class. That would be preferable. Instead, he constantly has to smack the drowsy teen awake.

Goemon has a rather interesting positivity. Now if only he could somehow apply that to his grades. That would certainly make things easier.

He wasn't amused by Elizabetta's attempts to get better grades by using her bloodline magic or flirting. He constantly had to remind his coworkers not to go easy on her just because of her looks. Although he was quite proud of how she handled the music festival.

Then, there was the matter of Iruma's two main subordinates. Or friends as he called them. The chaos that those two caused alone was a mountain of paperwork.

Never in a million years did he think that such a vigorous student like Alice could be so blinded by one individual. It's as if the boy forgot about his own growth. Does he have no dignity?

... thinking that he probably doesn't. Seeing as he's so obsessed with his superior that it's borderline insane. Not that clara is any better.

Her grades aren't exactly the best. Her loud, rambunctious attitude disturbs the other students attending any class she's in. Honestly, he's not sure what to do with such a wild thing.

He's half tempted to keep her on a leash to ensure she doesn't wander off. Although knowing that gremlin, she'd easily escape. If only she focused that energy on her assignments.

Still, despite all their flaws. Ignoring their constants defiance to the higherarchy. He would still admit they were his pupils.

He was their teacher. He would guide them into becoming powerful demons. He'd see them all graduate on time even if it'd kill him.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 24

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Thursday, December 17th; 7:00 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I collapse face down on my bed as soon as I step into my room. All I can think about is being on vacation. It’s about to become reality. To be honest, I’m struggling to grasp that starting tomorrow, I’ll be home for two whole weeks. It feels strange, but it’s definitely going to do me good. These last few weeks have been intense, and I really need a break. I have a splitting headache from all the constant studying. It feels like a hammer pounding in my head without rest. I just got back from Bronze after studying for my last exam, which is tomorrow. I’m relieved to see the end in sight because it was turning into a real disaster. The pressure and anxiety of not succeeding took over, and I started working more than I should have. I felt like the study sessions at Bronze weren’t enough anymore. I became obsessed, to the point of breaking curfew multiple times to study late into the night. The lack of sleep started affecting my behavior. I became unintentionally aggressive, which caught the attention of my supervisor. She noticed the bags under my eyes and figured out what was going on. Let’s just say she gave me a good scolding. Her decision was final, no matter what I said. She took all my study materials out of my room to control my workload. She almost punished me, but she held back when she saw my state. Our relationship has taken another step forward. I think she’s changed since she asked me to call her by her first name outside of school. She’s more open than before. Sometimes, I even call her Lucy when our study sessions run late, and she doesn’t mind. It’s become much more pleasant to spend time with her. She’s reached the point where she can tell what I’m thinking or feeling just by observing me. It’s very unsettling to be read like that. When she realized my problem with studying, she immediately found the right words to reassure me. Ever since she took my things on Friday night, she’s been coming by my room every evening to make sure I get back into a good sleep routine. Still, I’m mentally exhausted. All these exams were too much, and I’m starting to miss my family. I haven’t seen them in a month, hence my eagerness for the holidays.

“Are you done with your revisions at Bronze?”

Alexia snaps me out of my drowsiness. I must have dozed off without realizing it because I didn’t even hear her come in. I groan when she flops down on my back without any consideration. She kisses my cheek before resting her head on mine. Without knowing it, Alexia has started to break down my boundaries around physical contact.

“I came to get you for dinner. You’re coming, right? The others are already there.”

“Yeah,” I mumble into my pillow. “I’m starving. But I’m coming back here afterward.”

“Don’t worry, I was planning on coming back here too.”

“Come on, get off me!” I say, wriggling. “I’m starving!”

I laugh as she teases me by pressing down on me even harder. She finally gets up, but not before giving my butt a playful slap.

“Hey!” I exclaim, feigning indignation.

“Oops,” she says with an innocent look.

I smile and roll my eyes. Without her, I would have probably sunk into a deep depression. I was so angry with Lucy that first night she took my stuff that I was mad at the whole world. Alexia was there that night, and since then, she hasn’t let a single evening pass without making me laugh. She helped me think about other things, and that’s how I came to understand Lucy’s actions. To succeed, I also needed to learn to let go and have some fun. And that’s what I’ve been doing with Alexia. We’ve relaxed a lot, and she even took the opportunity to share new stories from her childhood. I took the chance to tell her about my relationship with Mapi as well. I had promised her a while ago that I would talk about it, so I did. Alexia is someone I really appreciate. She’s strong, and she has such a contagious joy. With those thoughts in mind, we head to the cafeteria in good spirits.

“Have you heard from Mapi these last few days?”

“Not really. She’s also busy studying. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

I don’t press further as we enter the cafeteria. We grab our trays and join our friends who are already seated. I greet the people I haven’t seen yet today. Since our day in the snow, our group sometimes expands at meals with the addition of girls who joined the snowball fight the other day. That’s the case tonight with Ella and Alessia joining us. They’ve taken the usual spots where Ale and I sit, but we don’t mind and take the seats opposite them. Over time, I’ve learned that Alessia is actually Leah’s sister. I figured it wasn’t a coincidence that I get along so well with her. Looking back, I realize they have quite similar personalities. They’re both very calm and thoughtful. Alessia once confided that she thought I had a crush on her sister. I quickly reassured her that we’re just good friends and that it would never go beyond that. I focus on the conversation going around the table. It’s about our upcoming vacation. Everyone is really excited. I get it; I feel the same way. I’m starting to get impatient for tomorrow. I can finally breathe and see my loved ones again.

“Do you already have plans for New Year’s, Ona?” Alba asks me.

“Not really. I guess I’ll spend it with Mapi, but we haven’t talked about it yet.”

“See, I told you she’d already have something planned,” his sister comments.

“Well, technically, nothing’s set yet. Why?”

They exchange a knowing look before Leah decides to speak up.

“To be honest, we usually spend it together here in Manchester. We were hoping you’d join us if you didn’t have any plans.”

“Really? Where do you do it?”

“It’s at our place,” Alessia explains. “We live here, and our parents usually go celebrate New Year’s with their friends.”

“I see. Is this the first time you’ve done this?” I ask curiously.

“No, this will be the third year we’ve done it together,” Ale responds. “It’s the only holiday we can all spend together, so we make the most of it.”

I nod, understanding perfectly. This idea excites me a lot. It would be so cool to finally be able to spend an evening with them outside of school. It’s definitely better than spending a drunken night at Mapi’s friend’s place. Still, I don’t want to leave Mapi behind. We’ve barely spent any time together since I’ve been here. Besides, we’ve always celebrated New Year’s together ever since we met. I know she’s expecting us to spend this one together too. We don’t even need to talk about it to know that.

“I would love to come, but I can’t leave Mapi alone,” I share.

“Why don’t you bring her along?” Alba suggests.

“That’s true, it’s a good idea,” Ale adds. “I really want to meet her after everything you’ve told me about her. Do you think she’d agree?”

“I see why you suddenly asked if I’d heard from her,” I say with an amused smile.

“Yes, well,” she rolls her eyes with a knowing smile. “I wanted to know if you’d already talked about it. Seriously, would it be possible? It’s a bit of a crazy plan, but doable, right?”

“I don’t know. It’s going to be complicated. She has a girlfriend, and I doubt she’d want to celebrate without her,” I grimace. “I’ll ask her and see what she says. Anyway, I want to come, but not without her.”

“She seems important to you,” Lotte comments.

“Well… yeah. She’s my best friend, you know. She’ll always come first.”

“See, I told you she’d say yes,” Patri laughs. “It’ll be awesome if you come. You’re part of the group now.”

I smile sincerely at her. It’s true that I’ve really integrated into their group by now. They’ve been very welcoming from the start, unlike me, who only did things my way. Now, it’s very different. A real friendship has formed between them and me. I was about to respond when someone taps me on the head with an object that echoes above me. I instinctively duck my head to avoid the attack, even though it doesn’t really help. When I try to turn around to see who it is, two large hands on my shoulders stop me.

“What has Mapi done now?”

I relax and lean back against Lucy, recognizing her voice. I expected to see her tonight before curfew.

“Nothing,” I giggle. “We were talking about New Year’s.”

“Oh. I thought you’d heard from her.”

“Briefly this morning, to talk about tomorrow. By the way, she sends her regards,” I say, lifting my head to finally see her.

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah. Did you want something specific?”

“I wanted to return the pen you left on my desk. It would be a shame to take your last exams without it, right?”

I smile as I take it back when she dangles it in front of my nose. What would I do without her? Probably not much. I can’t say it’s my lucky pen because I don’t believe in that sort of thing. However, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to change their habits once I’ve found something that works for me. That’s exactly how it is with this pen. I would have been frustrated to have to use another one for my last exam.

“Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to. Are you also returning my notes?”

“You need to stop taking advantage of my kindness. I’ll give them back tomorrow.”

“What kindness?” I laugh. “I’m old enough to manage my own sleep schedule.”

“No, you’re not. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken your notes.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. Well, I can’t complain too much. It’s true that she’s become nicer than before, even though she still treats me like a kid in some ways. It’s really frustrating, but I guess I’m partly to blame. She knows why she’s keeping my stuff. I would have been tempted to study tonight otherwise.

“Fine, I’ve recovered,” I protest.

“Ona,” she scolds. “I should make you run laps to tire you out tonight.”

“Actually, I think I’ll be fine,” I grimace.

“That’s what I thought. Everything will be fine, anyway. You’re ready.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” she confirms. “Alright, I’ll come by your room before curfew.”

“Wait,” I quickly try to stop her.

“What? Hurry up, Engen is waiting for me.”

I turn to see that, indeed, she’s waiting at their table. I’m not used to sitting with my back to them. I like being able to see Lucy when we’re eating at the same time.

“Ona?” she calls out.

“Sorry… Um… Actually, I have a headache. I was wondering if you could bring me an aspirin or something?”

“Is it just a headache?” she frowns.

I smile when she instinctively places her hand on my forehead. Since my withdrawal and the flu, she worries about every little thing I might have. Well, it’s true that I’m still a bit fragile, but not to that extent.

“I just have a migraine. It’s probably from the studying.”

“And you dare ask me to give back your notes?”

“Oh, come on,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. “Can you bring me something then?”

“I’m not a walking pharmacy, but I’ll bring you something later.”

“Cool, thanks! And enjoy your meal.”

"Thanks, same to you."

She ruffles my hair before heading back to her table. I place my pen on the tray and watch it for a moment. My smile widens at the thought that she really knows me well.

"Well, you've got quite the bond," Patri chuckles.

"Hmm, if you say so," I shrug.

"It's true," Ella insists. "You're the only student she treats like that."

"We also spend a lot of time together," I shrug again.

"That's for sure," Ale laughs. "You're with her more often than with me!"

"Yeah, anyway, can we get back to the New Year's topic? If you want, we can call Mapi together later," I suggest.

"Oh yeah! That's a great idea, that way we can ask her directly!"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Even from a distance, my best friend manages to be loved. I'll keep to myself the fact that Mapi was jealous of Ale at first. She joked about it, but I know she was genuinely jealous. Still, I have no doubt they would get along. They're both so wild when they want to be, and it could cause some real chaos.

"By the way, how does Bronze know her?" Ale arches an eyebrow.

I freeze at her question. Damn, I hadn’t thought about that. You can’t really say they know each other. They’ve only talked once when I had a rough night. Otherwise, it often happens that Bronze comes to my room when I’m on the phone with her on the weekends. So, they greet each other, and sometimes they even tease each other (usually about me).

"Oh, well, you know, we often talk on the weekends, so Bronze hears me talking to her," I shrug.

"Hmm, hmm," she replies skeptically. "I must be missing out on some interesting stuff on the weekends."

"Not really," I laugh nervously.

Great, Ona. Very convincing. If she knew I often sneak out of school thanks to Bronze, I have no doubt she’d have something to say about it.

"Well, I’m done. I’m going back to the dorm. I can’t stand my headache anymore."

"Yep, I’ll join you soon."

I nod and wish everyone else a good evening before leaving the table. I clear my tray and then head out to face the cold. I hesitate for a moment to take the emergency exit to get there faster, but Bronze would kill me if she found out. So, I force myself to take the main entrance. I regret this choice when I hear the noise coming from the common room. Someone forgot to close the door. It makes me realize how disrespectful students can be. They struggle to understand they’re not alone. I escape the noise by going upstairs to avoid worsening my migraine. When I get to the room, I decide to shower immediately so Ale will have space when she returns. In the meantime, she comes back to tell me that she changed her mind under the influence of the others and is heading back down to the common room for a bit. At least I’ll have some time alone. Or so I thought until I come face to face with Bronze as I’m leaving the bathroom.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry, I was looking for you," she smiles softly.

"No problem..."

"Here, for your migraine."

"Oh, thanks... Wait, let me find a sweater first, I’m cold."

"You’re not getting sick again, are you? You’re trembling like a leaf."

"I don’t think so. I’m just cold," I say as I grab a sweater from the closet.

The shower had warmed me up, but the room is cold compared to the sauna I created in the bathroom. Let’s just say that shorts and a T-shirt aren’t enough in these circumstances.

"Your lack of sleep probably isn’t helping."

"Stop blaming everything on that. Don’t forget I’ve only lived in hot countries."

"Hmm..." she says skeptically.

"Anyway, I’m on vacation starting tomorrow at eleven. I’ll have two long weeks to sleep."

"That’s true."

I first put down my phone and computer before going over to her to take the pillbox and a small bottle of water she thoughtfully brought me. I quickly swallow a pill with a few sips of water.

"Can I keep them?"

"Only the bottle. You know the rules."

She smiles at me sympathetically. It’s clear that it’s not safe to leave a pillbox with a former addict.

"It’s not like I’m going to get high."

"You could be capable of it. Now, give me the box."

I don’t argue and hand it back to her before slipping under my blanket. Without asking her opinion, I turn on my computer. I squint, noticing that Lucy doesn’t seem to want to leave.

"Are you planning to stay here for a while?"

"No."

She grabs my desk chair and places it between the two beds before sitting down. I look at her skeptically.

"I’d like to talk about tomorrow."

I frown, not understanding where she’s going with this. She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms.

"For two things. First, how do you feel about the exam?"

I sigh and shake my head. She’s not going to let this go. I had a moment of panic, and now she’s back on my case.

"I’m not trying to bother you. I can tell you’re stressed, which is why I’m asking."

"Who wouldn’t be stressed in my position? I’m a little bit, I admit. But it’s not because of the exam. Well, the dice are cast since it’s the last one... I’m scared because I don’t know if I’ve passed or not."

She nods understandingly. I bite my lip and look down. I feel ridiculous for being so worried over something so minor.

"Hey. No matter the result, you can’t say you didn’t give it your best shot. Okay?" she asks, placing her hand on my leg to get my attention.

"A little bit, maybe. I should have worked harder from the start."

"You were lost back then, and now you have regrets. That’s completely normal, but don’t forget that since then, you’ve pulled yourself together. You’ve made the necessary effort to catch up, so let me tell you... You have nothing to blame yourself for, understand?"

I sigh, nodding slowly. She always has the right words, it’s incredible.

"I get it... I’ll try not to torture myself over it anymore. What’s the second thing?"

"Your return home."

"Lucy," I groan. "I’ll behave, I promise."

"I’m just asking you to be reasonable, OK? Don’t feel obligated to go to parties if you don’t want to, and if there’s any issue—"

"I’ll come talk to you, I promise," I finish for her.

"Good," she sighs. "It’s time for you to sleep."

"No, please. I’d like to call Mapi first. I have something to sort out."

"Alright," she concedes. "You have half an hour. Then you turn everything off."

"OK."

"And in case you’re wondering, I plan to stay here to make sure of it."

"You can’t be serious," I groan. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"You’ll have to deal with it. I want to make sure you sleep on time tonight."

"Who says I won’t have a private conversation with Mapi?"

"Is that the case?"

"Not particularly... The others suggested spending New Year’s here with Mapi. I wanted to ask her about it. It’s a good idea, right?"

"Hmm," she says unconvincingly.

"At least you won’t be far if there’s a problem," I tease.

"I’ll probably have something better to do than look after you during that evening, you know."

"True... I thought you’d be happy about it," I say, opening the FaceTime app. "I’m at least reassured that you won’t be far."

"If you’re reassured, it means you still don’t trust yourself. Anyway, it’s definitely better than a party full of strangers."

"It’s not the best, that’s for sure. I’ve never really liked those kinds of places anyway," I shrug.

"Then why do you go? To put on a show?" she laughs.

"I don’t know. To have fun, I guess. Isn’t that what everyone does when they go to those kinds of places?"

"I guess. I don’t know. I’ve always found those parties stupid."

"Is it just me, or does this topic seem to annoy you?"

"It doesn’t."

I lift my head from my screen to smile at her. It does annoy her for some reason. I know she won’t elaborate, but she could at least be honest.

"You don’t want me going to those kinds of parties, do you?"

"I’d prefer you didn’t, indeed," she admits.

"Alright, you win," I roll my eyes. "If I stay in Barcelona for New Year’s, it’ll be my last party. Is that okay?"

"Wasn’t that already the plan? You promised me you wouldn’t go to any more parties after what happened last time."

Thinking about it, I realize she’s right. I’m not supposed to go to any more parties. I bite my lip, wondering how she managed to get her way. She has such an influence on me that it’s becoming scary. However, with her recent reaction, I can’t tell if it’s because she wants what’s best for me or because she has particular issues with parties. Maybe it’s both.

"I still get New Year’s, though... right?"

She rolls her eyes with a small smile.

"I told you to just be reasonable. Isn’t that clear enough?"

"Thanks..." I exhale. "You scared me for a moment."

"Use these holidays to clear your head and stop thinking about school."

"That’ll be hard. I’ll miss your orders."

"Be glad to be away from my demands. I must be annoying to you," she says, making me laugh. "What’s so funny?" she frowns.

- "I don’t find you annoying. You're just straightforward, and I was serious when I said I'm going to miss you. No one cares about me like you do. By the way, I hope I can write to you during the holidays..."

- "We'll see if I reply," she teases me.

A ringtone interrupts our conversation. I frown as I see an incoming call from my best friend. I was about to call her, but it's surprising that she's calling since we weren’t supposed to talk tonight.

- "Excuse me. I have to take this."

- "Go ahead, you’ve got fifteen minutes left," she reminds me.

I nod, pressing the green button and bringing the phone to my ear. With my other hand, I close my laptop, which is now useless.

- "Hey Maps, I was just about to call you."

- "Hey bonita," she replies in a small voice.

- "Oh! What’s wrong?"

- "Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you."

- "Don’t lie to me. I know you."

- "There’s nothing wrong."

- "Okay... if you say so..."

I squint as I see Lucy smiling. I nod to silently ask her what’s going on. In response, she just smiles wider.

- "What?" I say at the same time Mapi sighs.

- "Huh?"

- "Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you," I say, which makes Lucy laugh.

- "Are you with someone?"

- "Yeah... with Bronze. She’s playing babysitter."

- "Oh, I’ll let you go then."

- "No!" I quickly respond. "It’s not like she can hear you. Tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s up. I can feel it."

There’s a moment of hesitation where she stays silent. She takes a long breath. This is starting to worry me. Lucy seems to understand the situation from the way she looks at me. I suddenly sit up straight when Mapi bursts into uncontrollable sobs. If she’s crying, then something is really wrong. The only other time I’ve seen her cry was when I told her it was over between us.

- "Hey, Maps... What’s going on?" I say softly, not wanting to upset her.

- "Ana," she says. "She dumped me, Ona... Ana dumped me," she repeats desperately.

I part my lips in surprise. I didn’t see that coming... I regret not being by her side right now. Her sobs get louder, and there’s nothing I can do to calm her down. I can’t believe they’re no longer together. I really thought their relationship would last based on how she talked about her. I never really knew how she felt after I left, but hearing her now, I don’t even want to know. I run my hand over my face, trying to keep my composure.

- "Maps, I- It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll be in Barcelona around eleven PM. You can come with Hector, or you can wait for me at home, okay?"

- "I really thought she was the one, Ona. I finally managed to have a serious relationship again, and she dumped me like trash. Damn it!"

I close my eyes, hearing the loud noise she’s making on the other end. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it doesn’t sound good.

- "Mapi..."

- "What’s going on?" Lucy asks me.

I sigh, covering the phone’s microphone to explain the situation to her. Lucy asks for my phone. I hesitate for a moment before giving it to her.

- "Hey Mapi, it’s Bronze."

I hate myself for doing this, but Lucy is definitely better at handling these situations than I am. I tend to be clumsy with my words and never know what to say. Unlike me, Lucy knows how to handle things. She does it with me, and now she’s doing it with Mapi. She’s calming her anger and reassuring her. It feels like I’m listening to her talk to me when I need her support. Lucy’s words seem to have the desired effect because I can’t hear Mapi yelling from where I’m sitting anymore. She continues talking to her before handing the phone back to me.

- "She wants to talk to you."

I quickly take the phone where I can already hear my best friend calling me.

- "Yeah, it’s me," I reply.

It seems like her crisis has passed. She’s still sniffling a bit, but she’s not crying anymore.

- "I understand why you think she’s so great."

- "I never used those words," I chuckle lightly to ease the situation. "But you’re right."

- "You don’t have to say it. It’s obvious when you talk about her."

- "Let’s not talk about that now. Are you going to be okay?"

- "Hmm," she sighs. "I have to be. I have one of my most important exams tomorrow. I just needed to hear your voice... I’ll come to the airport tomorrow. I want to see you as soon as possible."

- "Alright. I’ll tell Hector to pick you up then."

I see Lucy tapping her watch. She gave me thirty minutes, and I guess they’ve passed.

- "Are you going to stay over?"

- "Of course, if you don’t mind. I think I’ll need your arms, if it’s not too much to ask."

- "Of course not. Go rest now. Bronze wants me to hang up."

- "Bossy, huh?" she giggles slightly, which reassures me about her state. "I thought curfew was at ten PM? It’s only quarter past nine where you are, right?"

- "It’s complicated. I’ll explain when I get back."

- "Don’t tell me you’re having insomnia again?" she questions. "I thought it was over since you hadn’t mentioned it."

- "I was, but not for the reasons you think."

- "Hmm..." she replies skeptically.

Now’s not the time to talk about my problems, especially not in front of Lucy. For now, she’s the one who needs reassurance. I don’t want her to start feeling sorry for herself like I did.

- "I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Maps."

- "Goodnight, Onita. Thank you, and thank your supervisor too."

- "I was planning to. Kiss."

I hang up and place my phone on the nightstand. As for my laptop, I put it on the floor, too lazy to get up and put it in the cupboard.

- "Thanks... I didn’t know how to handle that."

- "It’s no big deal."

I don’t have time to reply as the door opens, revealing Alexia. She’s no longer surprised by Lucy’s regular presence.

- "I’m back," she says before grabbing pajamas from her closet. "Are we calling Mapi again?"

- "I just talked to her on the phone. I didn’t have time to ask her about New Year’s."

- "You can chat tomorrow morning. It’s time to sleep now, Ona," Lucy announces to me.

- "I’ll go take my shower then," Ale says. "Goodnight."

- "Goodnight," I reply.

I lie down in bed, looking at Lucy. I think I’m hallucinating when she takes my laptop and phone.

- "Don’t tell me you’re taking those with you?"

- "Yes. I should have thought of this earlier. Have you used them this week?"

- "Of course not," I groan. "You’ve checked on me every day!"

- "Hmm. Come on, I was serious. It’s time to sleep."

- "Are you planning to stay?" I’m surprised.

- "Yes. I want to make sure you sleep."

- "That’s ridiculous," I mutter. "You’re getting too serious about this."

- "Go to sleep."

I roll my eyes and eventually turn my back to her, wrapping myself in the blanket. The good thing is that my headache has finally gone. The bad thing is that Lucy’s presence is unsettling, even when I close my eyes. Sleeping is impossible. Especially with all the noise I hear when Alexia comes back into the room. She seems to be trying not to make any noise, but it’s not enough. I want to complain, but Lucy beats me to it by asking Ale to go to bed. A few minutes later, the light goes out, plunging us all into darkness. I roll over to the other side now that it’s dark and I can’t see Lucy watching me. I know she’s still there; otherwise, I would have heard the sound of the chair. Time passes, and I can make out Alexia’s steady breathing. My mind is too agitated, and it’s starting to annoy me. I sigh heavily, admitting defeat.

- "I can’t sleep," I mutter, rubbing my eye.

- "And then you wonder why I’m still here," she jokes.

- "It’s not funny," I sigh, sitting up.

- "Stay in bed. Curfew has passed."

- "Am I allowed to go to the bathroom?"

She sighs but lets me go. I make sure not to take too long so she doesn’t get impatient. I wash my hands before returning to bed under her watchful eyes.

- "What are you going to do during your vacation?" I murmur.

- "Talking won’t help you fall asleep," she says, annoyed.

- "It might help."

- "No, it just distracts you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when I take you home tomorrow."

- "You’re taking me to the airport?"

- "Yes, Ona."

- "Cool. I prefer it when it’s you."

- "Don’t get any ideas. It’s just because I’m leaving at the same time as you."

- "Hmm."

I smile even though she can’t see it. Even if it’s the truth, I don’t care about the reasons. I just focus on the fact that she’s the one taking me home, even though she doesn’t have to. I understand now why she wanted to handle my departure reservations. I thought it was to take the burden off me.

- "Thanks," I say.

- "Okay, that’s enough. You’re starting to annoy me by being so awake. If you talk again, I’m really going to make you run laps. Am I clear!?"

- "Oh, come on, calm down," I grumble. "I’ll sleep."

- "I hope so. Goodnight."

- "Goodnight..."

I smile as I finally turn my back to her. I try now to clear my head and pretend she’s not there. This last solution seems to work this time because I finally feel myself drifting off.

[wendiz]

The group!! 🥺💕💗💕

Bios(?) below the cut!

Foofi and Mercury - I got these two back in 2012 when they first released, they’ve been in and out of storage over the years, right now they live in my closet lol! Foofi has the princess personality and Mercury is a chatterbox!

Ocean - Oh my god I don’t even know where to start with Ocean, he’s the loudest furby on earth. When I got him he had the diva personality but quickly turned into a viking when I tried to move him. He must be at least twice as loud as all of my other furbies so he’s quite a headache. He refuses to be reset (i just doesn’t work) so I’ve just learned to live with his constant screaming until he switches to something calmer 😹💗

Kris - I got Kris and Ocean from the same thrift store but Kris must have had a pretty rough owner because both their eyelids and beak won’t move. They had the crazy personality when I got them but changed to a princess somehow. o: They can only stay awake for about 5-10 seconds before they turn off. I want to check that out at some point in the future but for now they’ll just stay asleep w/o batteries, no leakage thank you! Oh and also; they seem to be Russian if I’m to believe the reset label in the battery hatch.

Rocket - Sweet little rocket! I got them pre-owned like Kris and Ocean but they came in great condition! I love just having them on my desk and holding them while I do stuff (I do this with Foofy too, hence their personality lol!) No interesting story about them, they’re just a great little furby who loves to get hugs and almost always seem excited to be picked up hahah!

Taffy - I just got Taffy! They were sold as broken but it was only some battery leakage, so with that cleaned up they’re working perfectly now! I love love love seeing Taffy and Rocket talk, they’re both so precious! Taffy surprisingly came with the tag still attatched. (I left it on) o:

Brite - I mean, it’s my silly furby caterpillar oddbody I made earlier this year! They usually hang out with my plushies! Not much to say really? Their face is 3d-printed (not by me!) and spray + handpainted in blues, I tried to make it look as clean as I could bdshf, the eyes are photo paper with one bit of star confetti in each! I got the eye chip design from @/greeneeveesoup here on tumblr!

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

Are Merch Mimics capable of using assimilation offensively against humans, for self-defense and otherwise? Like, if someone tried to break a toy/game/etc they were inhabiting, could the Mimic instead pull them in?

To a degree, yeah. I should mention though that Victor isn't "in" the TV in any magical sense; spoiler alert: he's the controller Vance is holding! Hence, the eye on the controller reacting to the dialogue. The Victor on the screen is actualy a model he rigged for a homebrew game he coded the old fashioned way, which responds to whatever inputs the controller sends to the Wii.

He actually is an active member of the homebrew community, and loves to mess with electronics the old fashioned way. Almost no one on the forums knows he's a toy bird, but are impressed nonetheless with his little projects, various rail-shooter games, and weird obsession with snarky anthropomorphic birds.

Victor could technically "jump into a game" on a tv screen, but it'd be a bit of a weird process if he doesn't know how to mod the game, so it'd look more like a shitty greenscreen effect rather than anything coherent. He'd need to learn in real time how the game is coded, how to inject arbitrary code into the system while it's running, etc etc. He CAN do that because he's a fucking NERD, but it wouldn't be a quick process at all.

I should also mention, mimics have an inherent ability to create dreams, since they come about from processing the thoughts and ideas of humans. If a human bonds with a mimic, such that the mimic now knows how the human thinks, they can pull a (somewhat) willing human into the dream when the human sleeps. So to wrap this all up: what Victor could do for a game he understands inside and out is pull a human into a dream that happens to match whatever he himself experiences as currently going on in the game. Basically the ultimate VR experience, with the mimic as a middle-man. Which might be something that'll happen in the comic soon....!

So that all seems a bit convoluted, right? Here's even more worldbuilding about matter assimilation by mimics below the cut. Stop here if you don't want a headache.

The reason so many hoops would be needed to pull a human into a game world is that assimilation is much easier on inert, inanimate objects that are not currently "in use" by a thinking thing, or something that relies on constant electrical signals to function. This can be something with brainwaves, or some other kind of animation like a normal robot. A mimic can convert a CRT TV that's turned off somewhat easily, but a TV that's turned on, with particles of every kind constantly moving into and out of it, is much harder to convert.

This means that humans and biological creatures in general are also trickier to convert, though it can still happen if done gradually enough. Hence, Victor wouldn't be able to rapidly convert Vance in one fell swoop, it'd be a whole process. It's easier to just pull a human into a dream instead, and if a mimic understands a video game, or a story in a book really well, they can basically make the fictional world into an extremely lucid reality for whatever human tags along with them.

I often describe mimics as just "jojo stands if they were corporeal and could just get up and move around on their own with no user"; you know how in jojo stand battles or old stories about magic curses, if you break the curse or kill the stand before its effect becomes permanent, all of the damage is magically undone? Like if you kill Green Day, the mold stand, all of the molding just instantly stops?

Mimics who use their powers of assimilation offensively work similarly; they can project their influence to a certain range, and partially assimilate matter in that range. If you knock out or kill the mimic, however, everything reverts to normal. A human who doesn't want to get converted can basically just turn around and walk away most of the time, or shoot the mimic, so the mimic in question needs to pull off some trick to get the human to stay within range for the assimilation to fully stick. A human can still break free and get out of range even if fully converted, but it's much harder, as assimilation usually means the mimic gaining greater control over the converted object in question. The exact range and effect mimics have is again like jojo stand ranges; it varies.

Different mimics have different affinities for different things. Victor can assimilate cheap electronics fastest because he likes them and understands how they work (it's why he's a toy bird mp3 player). Az can assimilate guns, and turn ammo into weird anomalous ammo with weird effects. Zachary is a genius who can assimilate any matter, including biological matter, faster than anyone... but he's also extremely picky and hates the sight of blood, so he only uses assimilation on things he really, really likes.

If I could somehow make another read more at this point, I would. It's gonna get messy:

What a weird power and setup though, right? Why? The true nature of mimics is unknown to most of them, but the deepest lore is that the first mimics were constructs made by a people long ago, who first made them as highly advanced machines that'd recognize the thoughts of their masters to fulfill any practical desire. Need a road built? Done. Need a ship repaired? Done. With physical needs all met, the people began to turn inward, and use the mimics to illustrate their own artistic ideas. Eventually, the will and consciousness of these people were assimilated and inherited by mimics, who themselves became people. Mimics spread, altered themselves, duplicated, deviated, fused, split, and wandered around. Getting into recreational wars, manifesting horrors and delights into reality because they could.

Somehow, after the dust settled, the strongest mimics, the angels, decide to set their sights to the stars, and observe other lifeforms develop technology and their own art. Did mimics come to earth millions of years ago, and simply watched humans grow, evolving with them in-tandem? Or did humans make the first mimics, and somehow became undone and set back to the stone age? The answer to this mystery is currently known only to the oldest of mimics. Except Zachary. He's old, but didn't care to remember.

This is generally why mimics seem so compatible with humans; they were made by either them, or people who were, for whatever the reason, very much like them, flaws and all. The ability to assimilate is basically the conversion of matter into a more malleable state of information. A virtually magical power, but this was achieved not through prayers and spells, but a very human-like obsession with developing technology to the point of exerting control over molecules, then atoms, then the lowest planks of matter. The obsession with scaling every mountain and crossing through every valley. To rip the natural world apart, and hopefully, put it back together before it's too late. Angels seek to ensure humanity walks the right path there, but with human's own desires and intent honored, for better or worse.

To answer your question: yes. A mimic of Mario can pull you into the game and you can jump with him and eat shitty low poly spaghetti with him.

The process for doing that is just convoluted and complicated, and you need to get to know each other a bit first. If he tries to use it as an attack though, it either won't work, or it might just wind up giving you mild brain damage.

[astranite]

Love is Stored in the Pasta

Scott, John and pasta.

This started off from a tumblr post 'cause somebody needed to cook that guy some pasta!!

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, really very mild scott is hangrysad, ft john's space issues, Chronic Illness, as thats what im treating it as and its not the focus here he's just living with it, Scott Tracy has ADHD, this is important, Autistic John Tracy, lowkey here but also Important to me, this is fun and fluffy and i love them, i hope this is like a warm comforting bowl of pasta to you too

---

“We need to talk,” John said.

On the other side of the call, Scott’s hologram slumped over his desk, his head landing in his hands. “Oh God.”

“I found your search history…” John began.

Scott peered out sheepishly from behind his fingers. “I can explain!”

“It’s just pages and pages of pasta?” 

John was puzzled, honestly. Five to ten recipe blogs and that was Scott trying to decide what to make for dinner during a meeting or while he was struggling to concentrate on work. During lulls between callouts, he and John would sometimes debate options together. More than forty separate sites visited at 3:12pm on a Tuesday afternoon and Eos had flagged it for John, on suspicion that Scott’s computer had been hacked by a malicious entity or some other AI virus.

Scott went from double facepalm of despair to full on faceplant, his head hitting the desk with an audible thunk.

“Why so much pasta?” John questioned. Now his curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t let it go or he’d be doing EVA work later, still turning over possibilities in his mind, which wasn’t conducive to the constant concentration needed while floating around in the vacuum. Outside, any misstep would be your last.

“I dunno. I just feel like pasta,” Scott mumbled into the wood.

Scott sounded…weird. Like he was about to start laughing, or coming down with a cold.

“Scott? Are you okay?”

It had better not be another flu; corralling Scott to take care of himself was hard enough even if he wasn’t feverish. John wouldn’t be able to come down either, quarantined up in Five unless he already had it. Was the slight tug of a headache at his temples from his sinuses beginning to clog up too?

Scott hadn’t looked up yet; his shoulders were shaking. John wiggled his fingers anxiously.

“Scotty?”

Big brother’s head shot up at the nickname John so rarely used. Had John intended to provoke that reaction? The name had been a slip of the tongue but if he was was honest, he sort of had meant to jar Scott out of his thoughts. He never called Scott, Scotty unless he was scared though. And Scott not answering him did tick tick tick up his system from yellow alert into red.

“I’m fine, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” Scott’s words ran over each other in an attempt to come first. His voice sounded oddly wet.

Tears, yes those were indeed tears dulled by holographic format, tumbled down Scott’s cheeks.

As soon as he saw John looking, Scott turned away.

Suddenly, John landed on the spark of insight that he had a hunch would crack the code to his big brother’s distress. “Have you eaten anything all day?”

Scott dug around for tissues in a drawer of the desk and gave a half shrug. “I guess not—not really? I tried to before you say anything. Got a mouthful of breakfast in and then there was a call out. Lunch didn’t happen, there was a meeting, I had to make coffee, I ran out of time. I don’t really feel hungry though…”

That did explain a few things. It was well known family lore that Virgil and Alan got hangry, and Gords went all sad and mopey. Scott and John himself though, they got …really, unstably emotional. 

So yeah, hence the unexpected bursting into tears. John got the whole shit interoception and not even noticing if you needed to eat while you were buried in work thing; Scott was way too used to ignoring his body too. 

John took a deep breath. “Scott, and I’m one-hundred percent serious about this, do you want me to come down there and make you some pasta?”

Thunderbird Five systems whirred around John in the quiet as Scott hesitated.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “Or you don’t have to, I’ll wait, Virge’ll be doing dinner in a bit anyway.”

“Virgil won’t be up until past sunset after the hours Thunderbird Two was out yesterday and into this morning,” John said gently. “You need to eat before then.”

Nor would an overwhelmed Scott and the kitchen be a good combination at this point, and John saw the moment Scott realised this, while fidgeting with the rubix cube on his desk. 

“I want to do this for you,” John told him.

Scott dashed at his eyes, sniffled a few times and finally capitulated. “Okay. Thanks, Jay.”

John smiled and signed off, heading for the space elevator. He was usually so far away, he was right now, but it was in his power to close off that distance when he needed to and today he could use that. 

He farewelled Eos; she so often missed him but the opportunities to run the space station on her own that weren’t emergencies where he was incapacitated excited her. They showed how much he had come to trust and rely on her. Plus she got full reign of their virtual chess set.

On Earth, Scott was waiting for him as the elevator docked, his hands stuck casually in his jeans pockets but looking as pale and wobbly as John felt. His face was still tearstained.

“Hey.”

“Hey to you too.” John took a few heavy steps before throwing himself at Scott, wrapping his arms around his brother tightly, all the while careful not to knock him off balance. Scott stiffened then melted into John. 

Usually that interaction went the other way around. 

Scott used the extra height space gave John to rest his head on him without having to duck down like with everyone else. John hugged him close and comfortingly as his fingers tap tap tapped their rhythm at Scott’s shoulder. All of it meant I love you.

“Pasta time?” John said eventually.

Scott nodded silently, following when John started off towards the kitchen. The raw rock wall of the hanger was rough and vividly solid in its three dimensions, as John ran his hand along it for balance as he walked that initial part. He was touching the Earth, he was in the Earth, he was on Earth.

With cold water from the fridge dispenser and the fizzy, brightly coloured tablets shook out of their tube, John made up lidded cups of electrolyte drink for himself and Scott. John needed to be sculling the stuff perpetually to stay upright down here, and he would not be at all surprised if Scott was dehydrated too. It might to something for John’s headache, could go either way for the nausea coming on.

He put a large pot on the heat. One advantage of having a stove so high powered that it could nuke anything it touched was that any volume of water boiled fast. 

An entire packet of fettuccine got tipped into the enthusiastic cacophony of bubbles. John poked at it with a pasta scoop, regretting that he hadn’t snapped the long pieces to actually fit in better. Ah well. 

He shook in an excessive-to-anyone-not-him amount of salt with a shrug ‘cause he needed it, before having another go at separating the pasta. The pasta scoop was quite an effective implement for that, there were reasons after all it was Gordon’s favourite utensil as John remembered from previous discussions. One could also use it to mash potatoes when held vertically, if one so pleased. His second favourite was the tongs as they could be clicked like crab claws and used to pinch unsuspecting siblings. 

Scott watched from his place slumped over the kitchen bench on a stool, chewing on the ragged skin at the edge of his thumbnail. He was trying to work on a couple of screens pulled up as holomonitors, as unsuccessfully as could be expected. John came over and hopped up to sit on the bench, clipping through the projected email inbox and meeting minutes so Scott dismissed them. It was with a sigh of relief.

They smiled tiredly at each other.

The pasta! John tapped at his uniform comms watch. “Eos, set a timer for the pasta, please?” John shaved the minute that had already passed off of the box time and then another couple to ensure it wouldn’t come out mushy.

“So what sort of stuff on pasta do you feel like? There’s a good lot of options you were looking at earlier.”

“We don’t have the ingredients for most of those, I checked. No eggs and no mushrooms so no carbonara. Technically that wouldn’t be authentic carbonara though. No cream cheese. We missed this week’s supply run so we don’t even have any frozen peas!” Scott threw his hands up in the air.

“Hmmm. You feel like something creamy?”

“Yeah. Honestly at this point I’d eat anything.”

John swung his legs and tapped his fingers on the counter while he thought.

“I believe some bacon is hiding in the bottom of the freezer so that’s something. And…” he trailed of as he moved his head too fast and set off a wave of dizziness as he looked around the kitchen.

“Avocado!” Scott exclaimed.

“Avocado?”

“Funny story, we ended up with several cases of them after that rescue on that farm where we saved the whole village and nearly all their trees from catastrophic flooding. They really need eating too and there’s only so much toast you can stand.”

“I have heard theoretically of putting avo on pasta and it does sound good. Mmmm bacon and avocado, John hummed. “Worth a shot?”

Scott reached towards the fruit bowl in answer, grinning at John. “Soon we will have pasta!”

John peeled off the upper half of his uniform and tied the arms around his waist in preparation. In the subtropical summer down here he was already getting too hot and while the temperature regulation built into his suit would do its best to make up for his own body’s lack thereof, it felt weird to have everything covered up from fingertips to neck down here while he was cooking.

Scott began to giggle.

“Huh?” John said, extremely eloquently.

Scott gestured at him. 

“My suit?” Was something up with his suit? The full gloved hands and sleeves flopping about without John in them had been known to amuse the lot of them on occasion, ever since he’d used the empty suit as a phoney decoy of himself to trick Eos. It was pretty funny now no one was in mortal peril and Eos was his friend.

“Your face!” Scott exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with my face?” 

John frowned. Was it his fringe that never could survive true gravity? He hadn’t gotten freckles while he’d been down all of half an hour and inside, had he? Then he looked down.

His t-shirt had a photograph of his face printed on it, and across the chest, emblazoned in neon orange read the words ‘Space Face’, courtesy of one particular fish brother. Ah yes. That.

John sighed, resting his chin on his hand to hide the smile he couldn’t quite control. “Not exactly subtle, is it? In my defence this was the only one in my closet that was clean and you can’t exactly see it beneath my suit. It’s all Gordon’s fault anyway!”

Scott was still laughing, albeit a touch hysterically and at him, but John took it as a win regardless.

Eventually Scott grabbed himself a cutting board and knife to get to work on the avocados as John carefully slipped off the bench, steadying himself on the counter as his ankles went noodley so he could handle the bacon. 

Bacon, bacon, now where had he seen that bacon? He had the image of it in his head, but that was only one piece of the puzzle, a photograph, humanly imperfect, memory woven out of instinct. Digging about in the deep freeze which the evidence pointed to as best John could tell had his fingers feeling like he’d stuck them out in space with out gloves on. They ached sharply as John cursed his crappy circulation. 

He gladly found the bacon though, lurking at the second darkest depths. He would not be willing to venture into the midnight zone of Unidentified Frozen Objects and charred dinner leftovers put away for ‘later’. He chucked the packet into the microwave and thawed out his hands by running them under lukewarm water, wincing all the while. If he’d thought this through, if he’d been smart enough, he would’ve put his suit gloves back on—his space rated, cold proof, most definitely impervious to domestic appliances gloves— and saved himself the pain.

Scott came over to rinse his avocado green hands. He dried them off then wrapped his arms around John’s waist so he could lean on him, giving in for a moment in face of daunting gravity. With Scott, he could because Scott got him; they both could.

“You alright?” And there was big brother smotherhen coming out.

John flexed his defrosted fingers. “I will be.” He turned and smushed his face into Scott’s neck for a little bit, hugging back, Scott rested his head on John’s, and they stayed there for a while.

They were both fading. The pasta would help with that, Scott really needed to eat and so did John at this point, the half a dry bagel for breakfast and another at lunch hadn’t really been enough. The trick now was finishing the task that felt as if it expanding faster by the second than the Universe, as measured by the Hubble Constant was. They could do this though. Together.

Scott chopped up the bacon roughly and John cooked it, hissing back when it spat hot oil at him. 

When Eos notified them the timer had gone off, and John had very scientifically tested the pasta was done by nomming on a bit, he called Scott over carry the large pot to the colander in the sink to strain. 

“Gravity plus boiling water plus my space noodley arms are probably not a good combo,” he laughed. 

He was getting better at knowing his limits. Scott’s smile was small and proud, he saw John.

Scott stared at the bacon with the intensity of a starved wolf with its mouth watering, then stole some pieces hot from the pan and burnt his mouth. Scoff Tracy strikes again. 

They dumped the pasta in a big mixing bowl with the mashed avocado, a little lemon juice, the bacon, and a whole lot of salt, pepper and parmesan cheese, mixing it together with the big pasta scoop.

John swayed on his feet then, grabbing onto Scott to stay upright for long enough to decide actually the best place for him right now was sitting on the kitchen floor just here. John folded himself down to the ground in a slithering pile of too long, too bendy limbs, Scott wordlessly guiding his descent. 

“You want me to grab some sporks to eat with?”

“They’re splayds, technically,” John remarked. He gave Scott the thumbs up anyway, while he rested his spinning head on his knees.

Scott waved about his ‘sporks’ acquired from the cutlery draw with a victorious grin before he sunk to the ground to join John.

John took one, passing the pasta to Scott once he was settled, lanky legs stretched out for miles, bumping into John’s.

“We forgot plates,” Scott said.

John shrugged. “At this point, who cares. We have pasta.”

“We do.” Scott blinked for a moment. “I didn’t before and I wouldn’t’ve but now we do.”

He hugged the warm pasta bowl to his chest, and when John observed more closely he saw the tears collecting on Scott’s eyelashes, sparkling in the kitchen light as he looked up at John.

“Thanks. I love you so much, Jay.”

John gave him a gentle smile, ducking to knock his forehead against his brother’s shoulder like a cat. “Love is stored in the pasta.”

Scott smiled back at him and they both dug in.

It was good pasta.

Really good pasta, because he was here with Scott and through everything they had made it, together.

[lunar-rcp]

˛ ꒷ㅤ ۪ Roy headcanons 2.0 ! ◟ ۪ㅤֺ ◟☆

◟☆ request by @randomartkid-12

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ ✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ ✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ ✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ ✦ ⠂⠂୨୧

꒷ . Roy has CONSTANT back pains. He never ever gets a break from them, and sometimes they get so bad he's forced to take a break.

꒷ . A softie from the inside and outside. He deeply cares about the team, and acts exteremely selfless for them

꒷ . When the Mountain Rescue team visits, he sometimes loves to play chess games with them. Said chess games get extremely intense, you would NOT want to be near them while they play chess.

꒷ . Plays the guitar! He doesn't do it often because he'd disturb the others, but he loves playing metal. (There's one person willing to listen though, and that would be Poli!)

꒷ . A perfectionst. He gets the ick whenever somethings out of place. Hence why everything is colorcoded in his room, he loves being neat and tidy!

꒷ . Because of the perfectionst energy he shares with Amber, they're the ones who like cleaning the headquaters together. Is it a tough job? Yep. But do they love doing it together? Yes! They chat away while they tidy up the place.

꒷ . Allergic to dust. (He just like me fr!) He gets really itchy and gets a headache whenever there's too much dust around.

꒷ . He still struggles for asking for help whenever he's in pain. However, slowly and surely he's getting better at it. Doesn't mean he doesn't feel extremely guilty for doing so. But he's working on it.

꒷ . Has a bunch of plants in his room that he waters daily! Don't know what to get for his birthday? Get him plants!

꒷ . When Roy was little, he used to have chubby cheeks as a kid. Once helly found a picture book of him when he was little and he got extremely embarrased. Poli and Amber found him absolutely adorable though!

[sebsxphia]

guilt & hangovers.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett soothes your worries from the night before.

￫ c/w: drug and alcohol use, recovery, sobriety, hangovers, swearing, titty touching, kissing, food.

￫ a/n: as i go through recovery, i’ve found it comforting to myself to write these pieces. i hope it brings any level of comfort to all who read! <3 my ‘sobriety’ masterlist can be found here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Your eyes squinted open slowly, peeling awake to the sunlight falling through your lacy curtains on your bedroom window. The reflection of the morning sun in your eyes shot to your headache immediately, making you wince. Your mouth felt full with cotton and your body ached a little. Rhett slipped in through your bedroom door with a warm smile.

“Good mornin’, gorgeous.” You gave him a kiss in response as he curled back into bed next to you. You propped yourself up slightly to lie on Rhett’s chest, humming in content. You were slightly hungover, but the warmth of your lover soothed your head.

“Y’ had a good time last night?”

“I think…” You questioned yourself as you played back the night behind your closed eyes. You remembered everything, which was the first good sign, but you were slightly on edge at Rhett’s question. “Oh God, why d’ y’ ask? Did I do somethin’ stupid?” You grumbled and winced again, burying your face further into his chest as you awaited his response.

You felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle and he soothed his fingers through your hair to reassure you. “No, no, darlin’. Just in the truck home, y’ were smilin’ to yourself, talkin’ about how happy y’ were, how much y’ enjoyed the night.”

“Oh.” You hummed back to Rhett. A small smile graced your lips with relief. “Yeah, I remember that.”

You do remember. That was good.

You both lay there in a domestic and blissful silence for a while. Rhett didn’t let go of holding you close to his chest as you let the morning sun wash over you both, slowly waking you up for the day. It was a rare Sunday when you had no ranch work to do urgently, hence the chance to have a drink last night. You were planning to enjoy this Sunday like you did best together. Wrapped up in the bedsheets and making home cooked meals. Your stomach grumbled at the delicious thought, but your mind was still pre-occupied with more pressing matters. Rhett’s question, again. That triggered something in the back of your mind. Past memories clouded your senses and you just had to ask one more time—

“Y’ sure I didn’t do anythin’ stupid?”

He chuckled again and squeezed you tightly to his chest, wordlessly reassuring you. “Why y’ askin’ so much, baby?”

“I guess, I just… I feel, guilty?” You rounded off your statement with a questioning tone. You weren’t sure what this feeling was. You instinctively drew your nail beds to your teeth as you chewed on them with nervous hesitation. Your nails had grew in the last couple of months. Without the constant gnawing from your swinging jaw once a bag of powder was soaked through your nerves, you had no real reason to constantly bite them. None the less, Rhett was there as a wordless reminder, drawing your fingers away from your teeth to play with them mindlessly. Deep down, he was purposefully distracting you, but on Sunday mornings such as these, he enjoyed feeling out each crease and indent on your hands.

“Don’t,” Rhett’s voice came almost a beat afterwards. “Y’ had some drinks, got a good level of ‘drunk’ and came home to me. No drugs, nothin’. It’s ok to have a bit of fun. You’re doin’ so much better now, y’ shouldn’t feel guilty for that.”

You were still laying on his chest and listening to the rumble of his morning voice through your ear, staring ahead and taking in his words. Your eyes traced over the pattern on your lacy curtains. You registered his words, but the guilt.

The fucking guilt.

It was gnawing away at your stomach like you would your nails.

“But d’ you remember what—”

Your proposed, and self inflicting argument against yourself, was cut short by Rhett barking out a quiet laugh. “Nope, nu-uh.” He clicked his tongue between his teeth and you sat up to look at him now. He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue as he shook his head, still with a small and knowing smile on his face. “I know you, your group knows you, your support worker knows you. You’re doin’ so, so fuckin’ well, darlin’. I won’t let anyone tell my diamond girl ‘ny different.”

“Okay.” You mumbled with a loving smile gracing your lips. You were still feeling a little too hungover to argue, and, you knew Rhett was right.

“Okay.” He agreed with you and outstretched his large calloused hands to cup at your jaw and squeeze on your cheeks. “C’ ere.” He pulled you down to meet him again and placed one, two, then three, repeated kisses on your lips. As he parted with a wanton and low groan, he asked the one question that he knew would make all your worries disappear in an instant.

“Y’ want a fry up?”

You comically groaned, almost similar to how you would when Rhett’s face was buried between your thighs. You let your eyes roll back into your skull and you flopped down dramatically onto the mattress, withering with obscene pleasure at the thought of your lovers famous fry ups.

“Fuckin’, please.”

A playful smile was still plastered on your lips and Rhett’s lips, mirroring your humor in seeing you react like that. He leaned down once more to kiss you again, expanding his palm to give your bare breasts a squeeze before leaving you in bed to make a start on breakfast.

“Grab the laptop, put on what y’ want, my sweet thing.” He called out to you from your shared bedroom doorway.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @peachystenbrough if you would like to be added or removed, please let me know! <3

[moon-and-ocean-child]

Five times she spun a tale, one time she bore her heart. (2/6)

VEILGUARD SPOILERS

Crow!Rook, eventual Rook x Lucanis, Elf, She/Her, Rogue. (Julia de Riva)

Part (1), Part 2

______________________

If there was a constant in Julia de Riva’s life in the past few months, was the knowledge that no matter what, Davrin and Lucanis would find something to bicker about.

It was like they were obsessed with each other, pulling on their metaphorical pigtails, and even so, she could not help bringing them both on missions, chuckling under her breath whenever she sensed they were about to start again.

But it was also true that it could get tiresome, especially when they strayed from the path of somewhat “friendly” jabs and entered “potential murder” territory.

Today was one of such days, and Rook was starting to get a headache, so she decided that for a change, she’d say something.

“I’m just saying you guys need to bury the hatchet eventually, or I’ll start to think you’re flirting instead.” The woman mentioned as she moved a branch out of the way, hopping along a string of rocks to cross a small river in the depths of Arlathan forest.

Sudden stunned silence filled their little bubble, and a few seconds after, twin painful groans that could rival any bear echoed between the trees.

Their indignant complaints were heard all the way at the Veil Jumper camp. 

“Don’t even joke, Rook.” Davrin pushed first, clicking his tongue with a deep frown while the leader let out a satisfied laugh.

“Why would you even think that?” Retorted Lucanis, who wasn’t any more thrilled than the warden at the insinuation.

“Well, yours truly was in charge, and I don’t see anyone blaming me, hence, you two must have a very weird way to flirt” She shrugged with a smirk, turning her head just enough to wink at them, but her joke fell flat once again, and both men looked at her lost in between the waters of annoyance and the beginnings of concern.

“I don’t see how anyone could blame you, you did a good job, Rook, you got us where we needed to go and then out in one piece, which was nothing short of a miracle if you ask me.” Answered her fellow crow with a tad of suspicion in his voice, it wasn’t exactly a secret that she blamed herself for what happened in Weisshaupt, but she seldom ever talked about it.

“I don’t know.” Her voice turned lower, less prone to humor, a hesitant smile still fighting to stay in place. “We could’ve arrived sooner, I could’ve tried harder with the First Warden, or sent a few scouts when the wardens were first called to Weisshaupt…” The sentence drifted off, slowly losing strength as she listed just some of the endless “what ifs” that plagued her mind. Both men looked at each other, completely abandoning their previous feud, ready to interject and try to do something to support their friend for a change, but her denial was faster than their good intentions. “Like the time when I joined the crows! Oh I sure could’ve used a few scouts when I assaulted the Archon’s palace!” She turned around towards them, her radiant smile back in place, as if it had never left in the first place.

A new groan came out of the warden while Lucanis scoffed with a badly hidden smile. “Look what you started!” Davrin complained looking at the older crow, who turned with clear offense on his face.

“Me? How is that my fault!?” He grumbled back, frowning as their female companion jumped on top of a bigger rock to catch their attention.

“Enough!” A hand was raised in their direction as the harsh command came flying, a deep voice she seldom ever used stopping both of them on their tracks before the argument got out of hand, but the authoritative tone soon gave way to her signature devilish smile. “You see, it was a dark moonless night…”

A low chuckle escaped Lucanis.

“What’s with you and “dark moonless nights”, Rook?” He commented as she dropped into a fallen tree trunk and scoffed at his observation.

“Well it’s what it was! What do you want me to do? Make it up as I go?” She looked back at him with a confident smirk,  which he returned fondly as he shook his head. He understood what it was to not want to talk about something, but he admired how cheerfully she carried the burdens that pushed her down.

“Maker forbid you ever tell a lie.” Davrin added, finally a hint of a smile returning to his face.

“See? He finally gets it.” Julia beamed before continuing on their path and telling the thrilling tale of the time when she sneaked into the Archon’s palace, (Yes, of course that Archon! Do you know any other?) stole his entire collection of nug memorabilia, kissed the boy, and disrupted a coup d’etat on the way (No, not Venatori, their cousins probably), which impressed Viago so much, he begged to have her join his house.

______________________

I wish you could actually accuse them of flirting in game, their reactions would be hilarious. I love these two, along with Neve, my faves.

[severinageto]

The exact moment - one shot

"Wow, it doesn’t seem fair to ask me something like that," murmured Satoru while toying with his piece of cake.

“Why not? It’s something we all wonder about. After all, you constantly risk your reputation for him," said Shoko, lighting her sixth cigarette of the evening. "Wanting to know what you still see in him seems almost natural to me."

"And you’re sure that you don't see it?"

Shoko deeply inhaled the cigarette smoke. A mass murderer, narcissist, sectarian, and incense-smelling guy? Nope, it wasn’t for her. But she understood where her friend's fascination came from. After all, despite his actions, Suguru was an extremely handsome man. Extremely. Even she could see that. However, it was hard for her to believe that it was just his looks that had Satoru so captivated. She refused to believe it was just physical. Perhaps the albino wasn’t the deepest person on the planet, but that didn’t automatically make him that superficial.

No, that level of infatuation had to have a deeper root.

"What I see are his purple eyes, his crooked and sexy smile, and those emo bangs. But nothing more."

Satoru scoffed. Of course Shoko wouldn’t understand. Shoko was always smitten by Utahime's bun, yuck.

Ieiri laughed when she noticed her friend’s disgusted face.

"So tell me, at what exact moment did you know you would spare his life? It’s been nine years and counting, Gojo."

The albino pushed his plate away and swung in his chair. He began to think about his friend’s question. He took a long sigh.

He was embarrassed to say it, but for Satoru, there was only a before and after, whose division lay in the moment he saw those purple eyes blink, slowly and gently, for the first time. "I’m Geto Suguru. Nice to meet you," were the first words that came out of the curse manipulator's mouth, while he made a slight bow. His fringe had moved gracefully along with him, and Satoru couldn’t help but see that lock of hair as an extension of himself, almost like an expression of his tormented soul. He would never see it any other way and, for his entire natural life, that flirtatious portion of hair would become the greatest object of his sighs.

But it wasn’t just that which stirred the albino's passions. In fact, what his restless mind adored about the curse manipulator was the almost natural ability to silence it.

Because Gojo Satoru’s Six Eyes never shut up. The level of information he could process was impossible for a normal person to even attempt to understand; hence his constant headaches, his weariness, and, some would say, his bad attitude towards the rest of the world.

But Suguru calmed them. Once he felt, for the first time, the touch of his hands in his, his lips against his, and his voice calling him, he knew what true silence was. But it wasn’t an empty silence; it was one filled with images. His powerful neurons danced, showing him all the colors of the planet.

When he kissed Suguru, Satoru saw the entire universe. And he heard nothing but his breathing.

A ragged breathing, with hints of that sweet tenor voice that, with each friction, became more and more agitated, until it turned into moans, moans that called him from the darkness, bringing him to that sublime purple light.

His eyes, as strange as his own, projected the depth of someone who had lived a hundred lives. Had they met before? Impossible to know, but it was one of the albino’s favorite activities to try to figure it out. Because that love, that companionship, and that fervor could not be explained by something as mundane as the simple "I really like you" that the black-haired man had confessed to him.

Or could it? After all, Gojo had been a lonely boy. Everyone knew him, studied him, and understood him, but no one truly comprehended him. Not even Shoko or Masamichi. No, the only one who really cared about what he had to say was him.

And the only one who placed his true trust in his blue heart.

"I don't know," the albino replied to a question about knowledge that Suguru had asked him.

"You do know. I know you do, Satoru."

“Do you really trust me that much?”

Suguru took a deep drag of the cigarette and looked at him, piercing him deeply with his almond-shaped eyes.

"I would trust you with my life, Satoru."

At that moment, Gojo felt that he wouldn’t mind letting that man ruin his life. Because a poorly lived life was preferable to one without him.

The "exact moment" Shoko wanted to know. How to determine the minute when you stop being alone? How to quantify the second when you feel complete? How to discern the precise instant when you start to feel hungry for someone?

He looked at Shoko and ate some cake. His friend was crazy if she thought what he felt could be summed up in a single moment.

"Earlier than you think," Satoru murmured in response. "Much earlier."

♾️———————————————————

Image by: https://x.com/nanino29

[juiceicicles]

Mean and Scary | Chapter 2: Ghosts in the Pool

Pts: 1, 2, 3

=======

He had never really intended to tell anyone about the nightmares. The sleepless nights, the tossing and turning interrupted by the absolute worst headaches and the bloodstained pillows thanks to the newly developed nose bleed problem. It made him feel weak. Nobody else was having these problems. Maybe it was karma from his attempt to just forget Barb this first go-around, maybe the numerous head injuries had aligned to create a new way of making him miserable. But Max just looked so tired, and if anyone could relate in their little Party, maybe Steve could.

And apparently, Steve understood almost perfectly. Max had opened up to him too, and confessed that she only really felt sane when she was listening to music. She’d given him her old walkman, the one she used before she realized she needed an upgrade if it was going to become a constant in her life. It was bulky, and the headphones were small and uncomfortable, but the reprieve from his own thoughts was better than any drug.

Well, any drug Steve had tried. Hence the standing in the Munson trailer, waiting to expand his horrisions. It still felt weird to be here. Not the trailer park, or even the trailer itself, he’d seen it from the outside countless times to pick and drop Max off. But here, in Eddie Munson’s living room. Waiting for drugs. After the russians Steve was almost entirely sure he’d never be able to even get drunk again. It felt too similar, felt like he was back in that cold room surrounded by needles and bone-saws. But he needed something or else he’d never fall asleep again, and the two days he’d gone without were already kicking his ass.

Was it smart to go to Dustins newest brother figure in search of illicit substances? No. Was he going to do it anyways? Yes. He just needed some fucking sleep, just this once. (He knew that he couldn’t guarantee that. That if this worked, he’d probably be coming back time and time again. But he was never the sharpest bulb in the shed, and he’s choosing to blame his remarkable lack of decision making on the sleep deprivation.)

There were dozens of baseball caps and mugs covering the walls around him. From sports teams, to shitty diners, to T.V. memorobila, there was everything. He idly wondered if any of the items were ever used, considering they were high enough on the wall that he would need a ladder to access them, and Eddie was about his height.

“Sorry for the mess, maid took the week off.” Eddie was digging around the trailer, looking for whatever it was Steve had agreed to purchase and later on actually take (was he really doing this? Should he be doing this? God, Robin was gonna be so pissed if she ever found out)

“You um,” Steve swallowed, he honestly couldn’t tell you why he was so nervous. He felt like there were livewires where his blood vessels should be, “you live here alone?”

“With my uncle. But, uh, he works nights at the plant. Bringing home the big bucks.” There were various clunking and clicking sounds from where Eddie was opening up what was presumably any container he found in his junk drawer mixed in with the sounds of singing softly crooning from the tinny speakers in Steve’s headphones. His favorite song was playing, and he turned the volume up a little more.

“How long does it take?”

“Sorry?”

Steve took a deep breath to calm his nerves, seriously why was he so anxious? “The- the, uh, Special K? How long to kick in?”

“Oh, uh, well, it depends on if you snort it or not.” Christ, this was so dumb, “Uh, if you do, then, yeah. It'll kick in pretty quick.” This was so, so, dumb. “Ohhh…shit.”

“You’re sure you have it?” the part of Steve that had been desperately begging him to just go the fuck home was silently hoping that Munson just didn’t have any. The other part, the part that hadn’t slept in two days and had been getting pretty shit sleep for the last week and a half, was desperately begging that he did.

“No, no, I got it. Um, somewhere.” Eddie turned around and went into his room, most likely to continue his part in the hide and seek game he was playing with this illegal drug. Seriously, why wouldn’t you keep that somewhere safe?

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Steve whipped around to stare at the window, as the music played in the background to the sound of a clock chiming in the distance.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Steve really hoped he wasn’t going crazy. That some total whackjob decided to put a grandfather clock in the backyard of their trailer for some reason. But he knew he was kidding himself, it was so clear. Like it was coming from down a long hallway. Except the only hallway in the trailer was to Eddie’s room, and the sound was coming from the opposite direction. All those knocks to the head were finally getting to him. He was officially going insane.

As he scanned the darkness outside the window, the ticking and the chiming just got louder, and louder, and louder, until it felt like it was coming from inside his head. He frantically closed the curtains.

“Eddie?” Steve called over his shoulder, “Did you find it? Eddie?”

Silence. Gone were the sounds of hollow metal opening and closing, or Eddie’s weird ramblings to nobody, or the sounds of another person’s footsteps on the carpet. Steve slowly started to walk down the hallway. Eddie probably wouldn’t want him to see his room, but after years of monsters and possession and all things Upside-Down, Steve would rather take the chance of upsetting him over the chance of anything else. Granted the Upside-Down and the beasts that came with it were not usually quiet, at least from this end of things, but Steve was paranoid. He thinks he’s earned that much for all the brain trauma he’s most definitely had over time.

“Eddie?” He entered the room, only to find that Eddie wasn’t there. In fact, this wasn’t even Eddie’s room. It couldn’t be. This was Steve’s porch. The pool shone a light-blue glow over the surroundings, steam misting off the surface of the water in lazy swirls. The air felt cool, but not cold. Like it always did right before it became too cold to swim even in heated water, right before the Harringtons had to close the pool up. There were empty beer cans littered in a small pile, each with a small jagged hole punched into the bottom, next to some pool chairs with an ashtray situated between them on a small table.

And there, sitting on the diving board of the pool, was Barbara Holland. Her back was facing Steve, but he would have to be blind not to recognize her. Her curly red hair made a dark brown in the low light but discernible all the same, the dark blue denim jacket she had been wearing that night, color swallowed up by the black night around her. Resting her hands on her legs, one cradling the other with blood running down her fingers. Dripping slowly into the water below, the dark red quickly fading into the surrounding blue with each new droplet.

“B-Barb?”

This couldn’t possibly be real. Barb was dead. Barb had died here, on this night, in his pool. She was the ghost over his shoulder, never remembered quite right, and not always at the forefront of his mind, but never really forgotten. She was a scar that would never heal, a guilt that would never fade. Even if he hadn’t ever really admitted it, he agreed with Nancy. What she had said that halloween. He killed Barb, he just didn’t really let himself think about it.

“Still pretending, Steve?” She said, still not looking back. Still swaying her legs casually, sitting at the foot of her grave.

“Still bullshit?” The word reverberated through the air. And even though there were no walls, it felt like it was closing in on him. She finally turned around, and where her brown eyes had once been were milky white pupils, surrounded by black. Water dribbled from her mouth as she spoke. Her face was rotting, water logged and bloated. She didn’t look like a ghost, she looked like a corpse. Slugs crawled out of holes in her skin, and vines wrapped around her legs and propelled her forwards, her muscles too decayed to stand without assistance

Steve turned around and booked it. He slammed the door to the pool closed, drawing the blinds over the panes of glass. Holding his back to the door, he turned around to see that where the Munson trailer had once been, the viney Upside-Down tunnels had replaced it.

The vines slithered over eachother, covering the door to the pool and creating a solid wall of plant matter. Chittering and screeching echoed down pathways, the smell of kerosine and the distinct iron-copper of blood filled the air and choked Steve’s lungs.

“You killed me!” The distorted voice of Barbara Holland filled his head, so loud it was deafening. Steve covered his ears. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be alive! My parents wouldn’t had to bury an empty casket! It’s your fault Steve!”

Steve ran, trying desperately to get away from the voice, but it wasn’t coming from behind him. It was coming from around him, like a bubble of loathing and blame.

“Nancy lied to you Steve! There was no ‘we’. It was all you!” Barb laughed, empty and hollow, “you’ll never make up for it, murderer! One day, they’ll realize! One day, they’ll all know! And when that day comes, nobody will want to see your pathetic face ever. Again.”

There in the diverging pathways of the tunnels stood Dustin, and then Robin, then Max, and Lucas, and Mike, and Joyce, and it just went on, and on, and on. Their sneers, their disgust, their backs turned as they walked away from him.

“If you had just focused on someone other than yourself for one fucking second, I’d be alive. Nancy would be happy! Thank god Jonathan was there for her, to be what she really needed.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Barb kept going. She’d finally gotten her chance to say everything she didn’t when she was alive, and she seemed to be making the most of it. “Needed to win over perfect prissy Nancy Wheeler? Needed to prove to your douchebag friends that you could conquer any woman? That nobody could say no to King Steve!”

Steve would protest if he could breathe at all. He felt like he’d been running for days, and he was panting heavily from the strain.

“You’ll never be enough to make up for what the world lost when you took me from it.” Barb's voice sounded farther away, until finally it faded entirely.

Steve slumped down the wall, creepy vines and shit be damned. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he just needed a second to get his bearings together and then he’d start looking for a way out.

“Steve”

==

@bowl-o-queerios is me, I just can’t comment on this blog

[nukacourier]

Hiiiii- for both Pierre and James please, I couldn't pick just one of the duo

18, 26, 40, 65

Sorry if there's any repeats from last time you reblogged that post! My brain is small ❤️

You're in luck because I believe only one of these is a repeat (which I could probably phrase better now than last time I answered it so I don't mind anyways :3)

Do they have any disabilities, mutations, or implants/enhancements? Do they have any chronic illnesses?

Yes for both, for disabilities, Pierre has hyper mobility issues (which leads to near constant joint pain and easy dislocation) and is color blind (deuteranomaly), plus she ends up going mostly blind in one eye and has general vision problems regardless (incredibly near sighted, astigmatism, and develops a cataract in his left eye. Hence the blindness).

James, on the other hand, has a damaged knee that causes him occasional mobility issues and is generally a source of pain. He got this injury in the Capital Wasteland. He also for a while had chronic migraines and brain damage induced psychosis from being "lobotomized" in Point Lookout (and later being shot by Benny, which leads to his pain and symptoms worsening).

However, he also has cybernetic implants that he got at Big MT. His spine is reinforced and his missing piece of brain was also repaired with cybernetics. It helped him regain stability but he still does experience mild psychosis symptoms and occasional headaches.

How would others describe them/their disposition?

With Pierre, most people are intimidated by them in one way or another. He's very pretty for one, and is just generally intense. Those who are a bit sharper can probably clock them as a raider and I imagine her general habits of being silent and watching others gives people the creeps. (However, James finds him a little odd but generally comforting to be around)

James, a lot of people used to assume he was naive when he was in the Capital Wasteland (and although it was somewhat true, he was still very quick to learn and adapt to living in the Wasteland). Generally, most people find him somewhere between interestingly mysterious or very kind of a person. He's actually kind of quiet and distant with people he doesn't know, but does warm up to others quickly.

What is their favorite type of weather?

Pierre likes cool, cloudy days, and James like sunny breezey days :3

Describe their living space. (How do they decorate it? Does it have running water and/or electricity?)

Both of their spaces are often cluttered, but not dirty as both value cleanliness to some degree. Pierre's tends to be cozy, with excess amounts of rugs and curtains. Often has a lot of furniture that doesn't quite match, and can be a bit messy with leaving out papers, books, other miscellaneous (and unmentionable) things.

Though often he doesn't have the knowledge to set up electricity, she tends to keep around electric lanterns and candles for lighting, and if it gets too cold just generally tries to increase insulation or uses oil heaters.

James tends to keep his spaces filled with trinkets and collectables, usually set up very straight and orderly. Some people find his living spaces to be oddly sterile compared to other people's homes, and it's usually always kept organized and clean, the exception being his bed since he likes to be able to just fall into it. And James being James (being a fucking nerd) he of course has the knowledge of how to wire a house and also knows a bit about plumbing (the fact he was also Stanley's assistant as a repairman in Vault 101 helps too).

Thanks for the ask my friend!!! You always pick the best questions that make me think a little and I love that 🫶

[limitlesses]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍. With the events of Hidden Inventory causing Satoru to essentially 'awaken' and ascend into a heightened power status, his typical headaches from Six Eyes become worse as the main side effect to his power increase. After several weeks of trying to just push through the head-splitting migraines, nausea, vomiting and dizziness... he reluctantly caves to Suguru's suggestion of wearing a blindfold.

Satoru starts off with the idea of using a blindfold / eye cover at night only, a hot compress to help ease the ache, but then he starts to wear bandages over his eyes to mimic the pressure provided by the nighttime routine. It's a learning curve; he's able to 'see' curses and cursed energies, able to navigate using his senses, and yet he can't quite see, for example, a doorframe, or the curb that juts out near the crosswalk. Using his eyes is a constant balance of trying not to overwhelm himself with too much information, hence covering them, but it also means he has to adjust to 'not seeing' enough in the more mundane day to day activities. He bumps into things, he trips, and it takes time for him to get used to not seeing in the conventional way to navigate.

He still gets splitting headaches, but at least they're not a daily occurrence.

[crowsapprentice]

Bloodshuffle Cast, Part 2 — Alpha Trolls, Part 1

Eridan Megido

Thief of Time

Derse Dreamer

True Aries

apocalypseApathy

Doubles and capitalizes his P’s and R’s, but nothing else

Strife Specibus: wandkind

Fetch Modus: Ouija

Relationships

Feferi Maryam: wants her to be his morail so, so bad. Wears her blood color to give off the impression that she’s already his morail.

Aranea Peixes: sick and tired of her bugging and fussing and whining. Gives her the slip when she tries to talk to the group as a whole.

Terezi Megido: embarrassed of her. Can’t believe they’re each other’s dancestors.

[Roxy] Pyrope: wants to be her friend, but she doesn’t trust him AT ALL since he killed a bunch of their friends and caused the Scratch.

Meenah Pyrope: one of the few people of whom he’s actually scared.

[Porrim] Lalonde: has a secret crush on her. It’s one of those things that really reminds you that he’s only 6 sweeps old.

[Latula] Strider: minor pitched feelings because her “rad girl” “gimmick” annoys him.

FarragoFiction Sprite:

Discrepancies between his FF sprite and “canon:”

His horns curl downward at the end, albeit not to the same extent as Damara’s.

Less of his hair is the color of his blood.

Neither of his glasses lenses are “broken,” but the one on his left-hand side has the same covering as canon!Vriska’s used to, albeit with one constant dot in the center (as opposed to the seven on canon!Vriska’s, which only show up when she uses her vision eightfold). Also, there’s less tape holding his glasses bridge together.

Darker eyebags.

He’s missing quite a few teeth. Once the Alpha trolls woke up in the dream bubbles, Meenah punched them out.

Wears his canon shoes (albeit burgundy with jade stripes) and white over-the-knee socks

His shirt is black.

FarragoFiction Process:

Horns: 19

Glasses2: 188

Hair: 6

Glasses: 6

Eyes: 38

Mouth: 23

CanonSymbol: 1

Body: 32

Colors:

Aspect2: #658200

Pants1: #000000

Pants2: #4B4B4B

Shirt1: #078446

Shirt2: #034002

Shoes1: #A10000

Shoes2: #600000

Notes:

One of the youngest Alpha trolls

Believes in and adores magic with a grublike sense of wonder, but totally lies about it to his friends. He’s bad at that, though, so he just tries not to talk about magic at all.

He really needs braces, but he refuses to wear them. On Beforus, they’re available for the culled (which he isn’t), but on Alternia, they’re only reserved for highbloods (purple and above).

It’s ambiguous if he knew the specific death circumstances that would save himself and the other Alpha trolls from the Scratch, but he sure had fun killing some of his companions. Aranea realized the Scratch loophole in the middle of what he was doing and killed everyone else (admittedly, Eridan only killed, like, three of them).

He’s working for [LE] out of bitterness and a desire to end it all (hence apocalypseApathy), but it has helped him relearn that believing in magic isn’t something of which he should be ashamed.

He uses the ouija fetch modus because it saves him the trouble of thinking about what to retrieve. This is partially because of apathy and partially because it gives him a splitting headache.

He’s a Thief of Time because he ends up giving [LE] access to his time powers (i.e. stealing his teammates’ access to them) for his own selfish reasons.

His left-hand lens fell out once, hence the pseudo-eyepatch.

Calbon Nitram

Mage of Light

Derse Dreamer

Taurpia

adolescentTerror

Types in ALL-CAPS except for his O’s. Still does that thing where he separates gendered terms from words using spaces.

Relationships:

Eridan Megido: unrequited flushed crush. Takes personal and vocal offense to being told not to wear Eridan’s blood color.

[Dirk] Vantas: “HEE HEE. HAH HAH. Hoo Hoo. YoU KNoW THAT ‘SoCIAL JUSTICE’ BULLSHIT THAT YoU’RE ALWAYS GoING oN ABoUT? IT’S SUCH A JoKE. HoW YoU DELUDE YoURSELF INTo THINKING THAT YoU HAVE ANYTHING MEANINGFUL To SAY. oR EVEN *CARE.* ABoUT WHAT YoU SAY. RATHER THAN JUST HEAR YoURSELF TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK.” (wants to study him under a proverbial microscope)

[Calliope] Maryam: “WoW. Do YoU REALLY THINK. THAT THE SMoTHERING MAN NERISMS YoU CARRIED WITH YoU THRoUGHoUT THE BRooDING CAVERNS. WILL HELP YoU SURVIVE THE HARSH WoRLD WE HAVE BEEN THRUST INTo?”

[Jane] Nitram: “GoD. SWEET GRUB MoTHER OF FUCK. IS THIS WHAT THE NAME oF NITRAM HAS CoME To? “PooR, SWEET, INNoCENT” FRoNDLINGS WHo CAN’T HANDLE A LITTLE MURDER? NoW, LISTEN To ME. *LISTEN* To *ME.* I WILL SHoW YoU THE PATH To SURVIVAL. NoT BECAUSE I CARE. BUT BECAUSE YoUR WEAK AND PATHETIC EXISTENCE IS AN INSULT To MY HoNoR.” (A small nugget of care hides under multiple layers of something or other. Probably not sexism, though, since troll girls tend to be pretty badass.)

FarragoFiction Sprite:

Discrepancies between it and “canon:”

Horns are shorter

Hair based on the fanart that inspired canon!Caliborn’s “self-insert”

Darker eyebags

His pants don’t have stripes.

His suspender buckles and bowtie are Eridan’s blood color.

FarragoFiction Process:

Horns: 257

Hair: 782

Eyes: 127

Mouth: 68

Canon Symbol: 43

Outfit: 157

Colors:

Pants1: 000000

Pants2: 3A3A3A

Shirt1: 3A2500

Shirt2: 261700

Shoes1: 4B4B4B

Shoes2: 3A3A3A

Notes:

He’s a Mage as Paradox Space’s “punishment” for his canon actions.

He’s basically doing the same thing to Eridan that Eridan is doing to Feferi.

Loves puppets. Hates that [Dirk] likes them. Thinks he can make [Dirk] stop liking them by telling him to.

Knows WAAAAAY too much about troll reproduction, and talks about it even moreso.

The “bon” part is pronounced “bone.”