#how does one even draw basil's hair..

[shine-n-bright]

The buddies, friends even, maybe pals, chums perhaps

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 981 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist as you go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[3motionally3xhausted]

Kiss Kiss Fall into another old hyperfixation

Anyway, I randomly wanted to redesign the main cast of Ouran in my style/ with headcanons and my own embellishments

Here's a screenshot redraw, I'll put all the redesigns below the break bc I did all the main characters & wanna talk about the choices I made. Also I made up that uniform redesign on the spot bc I when I was doing the characters I just put them in casual clothes lmao

(I might do some others later, like Renge, Kasanoda, Yasuchika, Benibara, etc.)

Going in order of my least favorite to top favorite. And dont mind that I didn't color the clothes, that's not whats important here lmao

Mori is only at the bottom because I don't like the drawing that much, I still think the design is pretty good. Though, like right when I finished coloring, I decided a bun/top-knot would look better so it's a bit disappointing there. In my head, Mori is kind of struggling to figure out who he is & what he wants to do, which is why he follows Honey around and doesn't talk much. He does genuinely like being around the other hosts though.

Also, the undercut because A) he has the reputation for being the scary one & it kinda suits that, B) uh do I even have to say it? ...its hot He does lowkey look like Sokka from Avatar tho, especially with the blue accents

(edit: I accidentally deleted Mori's file so now this is the only copy so 😭)

Honey is next because again I think the drawing itself is a little off and the design is pretty close to Basil from Omori, which i didn't notice until it was too late lmao. One of the main things I didn't like about his character in the show was obviously how childlike he was & how girls still flirted with him even though he looked and acted 6; So now he still acts a bit childish but doesn't play it up as much & definitely has a more normal voice, not a fckn child's.

Haruhi! I definitely had to keep her glasses cuz they were really cute and kinda sold the whole 'commoner' thing in a way. But other than that I mainly wanted to balance out her femininity and masculinity to make her more androgynous/nonbinary/gender-fluid since she definitely has some of that going on in the show as is. I also gave her dark circles under her eyes to kinda show that she worked really hard to get into Ouran with low status.

Next up is Tamaki of course, getting into the characters I'm most happy with the designs of. One small thing I tried to do for each of them was give them varying hair tones; so even though Honey and Tamaki are both blond, I went very platinum-blond with him. When I started drawing him, my only real thought was "he has to be a pretty boy" so I dont have much to say about my choices, but i do think I succeeded. Don't mind the modern mullet thing, I can't stop it

Kyouya is definitely one of my favorite characters as is, seeing as he has one of the more fleshed out & heart-wrenching backstories in the show. I think the only thing I really wanted to change was getting rid of the Anime Bangs, so I just gave him this kinda sleek, kinda messy pushed-back look with a blue tint. Even though it's simple, I really struggled to come up with anything, until I found a page from the author saying smth like "I don't like the idea of him wearing neat clothes" with a picture of him in like a track suit so I did kinda the same outfit

My absolute #1 favorites, Hikaru & Kauru. They're honestly the ones that started it all because Kauru has been my favorite since I first saw the halloween episode (iykyk).

I don't know why, but I wanted their hair to be fluffier/curly and more of a natural(?) ginger color. I knew I wanted Kauru's to be redder and Hikaru's a bit lighter/blonder, but only subtly. I also gave Kauru a scar on his cheek from that time in Karuizawa, but most notably, I gave them blue and pink eyes as their signature colors. Lastly, their expressions are slightly different, because no matter how much they are in sync and try to match each other perfectly, Kauru's a much gentler soul than Hikaru, so I made Hikaru's smile a bit more snarky while Kauru's is soft.

Thank you for looking at my art/ reading my thoughts, here's an extra little design edit & comparison

(lol, I think they're mimicking Kyouya in this panel idek) (Also here you can see I tried the bun hairstyle w Mori, I think it looks good, but this is a really simple drawing so.)

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Talking to Ghosts

A postgame Omori epilogue exploring the way each member of the gang would cope after learning the truth. This time, Kel takes the wheel.

After Sunny gets into his mom’s car and leaves Faraway for good, Kel sits on his porch and Doesn’t Think About Anything. 

It isn’t easy. Kel just had one of the craziest nights of his life. Everything Sunny said in that hospital room is bouncing around in his brain like one of those DVD screensavers. Except instead of a tacky color-changing logo, it's the worst thing he ever heard. 

Luckily, Kel is very good at this game. He kicks off his shoes and digs his toes into the dirt. He plucks blades of grass and shreds them into spindly little threads. The bloody wreckage of Sunny's eye keeps surfacing in his mind, but it's way more fun to think about what he could IM Sunny about, now that Sunny has AIM. It’s even nicer to remember how tight Sunny hugged him before he left. 

…Man. It's dumb, ‘cause it’s not like he didn’t already, but. Kel is really gonna miss that guy. 

The sun climbs higher in the sky. The clouds scud by in no particular hurry. By the time the cool of morning heats to day, Kel is feeling sort of normal, actually. 

So, of course, that’s when Aubrey shows up. 

“Sunny,” she spits. 

Kel does a double-take. “Wh— Huh?? Where???”

“No, you fucking moron, I’m asking. Where the fuck is Sunny.”

Right. Classic Aubrey. Skipping straight to ‘physical violence’ is an insane first resort, but it’s par for the course, for Aubrey. When Aubrey feels bad, she can’t just hide it, like Hero, or swallow it, like Basil, or—freaking—think about literally anything else, like Kel. Aubrey would rather forge her hurt into a warhammer and swing it at anyone dumb enough to get close. 

They’ve had this fight a million times already. At this point, Kel could do it in his sleep. 

Even after all this time, he can’t help letting Aubrey piss him off. But he does manage to bail out before she can break all his bones with her nail bat, so. That’s probably personal growth. 

Kel gets all pissed off and stomps off and then stops being pissed off, because he hates being pissed off. He’s always hated feeling angry. It feels like poison in his blood. He doesn’t get how so many people can do it so much of the time. Why would you choose to feel bad when instead you could just… look at something else?

###

On his way inside, Kel blunders right into Hero.

“O-Oh! Sorry, bro!” 

“All good,” Hero says automatically. Reflexive. His eyes are rimmed with red, but he obviously doesn’t plan on talking about it. “You okay?”

Kel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Clearly, Hero is taking the news way, way, way worse than anyone. (Including Aubrey, who is currently, actively committing property damage about it). But of course he’d rather die than say so. 

“Totally,” Kel reassures him. “All good.”

###

It was the same when they were kids. 

Oh, Hero acts like he never gets mad. He acts like he’s too grown-up for that kind of thing. He’s even pretty good at it. He’s got Aubrey fooled, and Sunny. And obviously their parents (not that that one was much of a challenge. Mamá and Dad would believe anything if Hero was the one who said it). 

But Hero could never fool Mari. Mari was sharp, like Sunny. Perceptive enough to smell the lies on your breath. If you were hiding something, she could always draw it out of you. She’d soften Hero up with teasing and flattery and then hit him in his weak spot at the exact right moment, the perfect jab at the perfect angle to split him open like a fish. The good cop and the bad cop, all in one. 

Kel used to hear them sometimes. Once in a blue moon, when Hero and Mari were sure that no one was listening, they would even let their hair down a little. Take off their disguises and let themselves be less-than-perfect for a change. Sometimes it was Hero who was crying, and sometimes it was Mari. Sometimes both of them at once! 

But most of the time, they weren’t crying. They were pissed. 

Like in fourth grade, after Kel’s practice got rained out. Kel was soaking wet and past exhausted. All he wanted was to lie down and close his eyes and not even think about the stupid math test that he definitely flunked this morning. 

He was already reaching for the door when he heard the voices: pitched low and stretched taut, like a rubber band about to break. 

“—even matter!!” Hero was whispering. “If I’m too busy, it’s my fault for not helping; but if I do tutor him—instead of studying for my own finals!! By the way!! Which I really need to be doing!!!”

“I’m familiar with the concept,” Mari said drily.

“—then it’s still my fault for—what? Not helping well enough? I mean, what??? What do they expect me to do? Freaking… crawl inside his head and make him smarter?” 

Mari snickered. “You could hide a walkie-talkie in his hat. Like that Spongebob episode where he goes to driver’s ed.”

Hero huffed a tired laugh. “I just don’t get what they expect me to do. I’m not the one who still can’t do long division in fourth grade.” 

Kel froze with his hand on the doorknob. Okay. Yeah. He wasn’t sure for a second, but—yeah. They were definitely talking about him. 

Some people would probably pick a fight about it. Some people (cough, cough, Aubrey) would storm in guns a-blazing. And where would that get her? All the mean stuff she heard would still be in her head. Nothing would change, except that everyone would know that everyone knew that everything was worse than it looked. Kel didn’t want any part in it.

He backed away from the door. He backed all the way down the hall, and halfway down the stairs. Then—louder this time—he stomped up the steps and burst through the door to their room.

“Oh!” Hero looked very briefly panicked. “H-Hey, little bro! Short practice today?” 

“Uh huh! We got rained out! But look!!!” Kel bared his teeth, showing off the ragged hole where his canine used to be. 

Hero turned faintly green. 

“Grooossss!” Mari giggled. “Did you twist it out yourself?”

“Uh huh!”

She ruffled his hair. “You’re so cool, Kel. Don’t ever change, okay?”

Kel grinned up at her, gap-toothed and beaming. “You got it!!”

###

But everyone changes.

###

Kel opens his eyes in Basil’s room. 

It’s not how he remembers. Basil’s room used to be wall-to-wall leaves and vines and memories. Now it’s vacant. No photos. No sticky note reminders. None of Sunny's sketches on the walls. Just white paint and beige carpet and a pool of inky dark, slowly swallowing the floor. 

In real life, Kel wasn’t here for this part. He had to hear about it from Aubrey while they huddled outside the ICU, clutching each other’s hands hard enough to cut off the circulation and taking turns telling each other that it was going to be okay. But Kel’s brain must not know that. Because this time, he can see everything.

Basil kneels over Sunny’s chest. Sunny’s face is eyeless mush. A mangle of ground meat. 

There’s a blur of motion as Hero tackles Basil against the wall.

“Kel!” he bellows. He kicks the shears across the floor. “Kelsey! Now!!”

Oh. This is where he comes in. 

Kel jerks around to stare at Hero, who’s got Basil pinned by the throat. “Wh–What?”

“Hold him!!”

“Huh???” Basil isn’t even struggling. He's just dangling there. Bleeding.

“NOW!!”

On his way across the room, Kel almost trips over something on the floor. A body. Sunny’s. But Sunny was sleeping in the living room. Why would Sunny be on Basil’s floor? 

Kel looks closer. 

Sunny’s face is red. Sunny’s hair is slicked flat and his face is all red, only red without any eyes at all. His face is torn red and he’s—moving. He’s moving. He’s awake. He’s bleeding out and he can feel it happen because he’s still awake. 

Sunny looks at Kel without any eyes. Red sputters through his teeth. “Khrrrh—”

###

Kel wakes up gasping. Scrambles for his phone before he remembers that he doesn’t have Sunny's number. Does Sunny even have a phone? Would Kel even know if he did?

He stumbles downstairs to the family desktop. Sunny’s online. Big surprise. Sunny is always online, and never answers. 

Kel is so freaked out, he almost types, ‘Hey, are you okay?’

‘Hey, Sunny! Sorry, I don’t want to stress you out, but I’m really scared. I’m really scared for you Sunny. I can’t stop feeling like something bad is going to happen. I can’t stop dreaming that something bad is going to happen. But they don’t feel like nightmares. They feel like visions. Premonitions.’

‘Hi Sunny. Long time no see, haha. Hey, weird question: are you okay? Are you hurt? Please tell me if you’re hurting but please please PLEASE don’t lie. Sometimes I get so scared you’re going to die. Are you going to die? You have to tell me if you’re—’

Kel doesn’t type any of that stuff. 

He types, snnyyyy! u up? lol

He types, cant sleep haha

He types, wanna sneak out 2 hobbeez? ;) ;) ;)

Sunny doesn’t answer. Because he lives three hours away, and because he never answers. Whatever it is that Sunny wants, it’s obviously not to go to fucking Hobbeez.

Kel types, misss u bro. gna try 2 sleep. wishme luck :/

###

When he pads downstairs, he’s met with the hissing crackle of frying eggs.

“Mo~rning!” his mom sings out. “Thought I’d make breakfast, since it’s your brother’s last day!”

Right. Hero heads back to college tomorrow. Kel knew that. “Heck yeah! Can I help?”

“Vaya, vaya! I don’t need any more mess! Oh, and your friend got home from the hospital. You should go say hi! I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“My—” Kel sputters, before he remembers that she couldn’t possibly be talking about Sunny. Sunny lives three hours away. “Who??”

“The little blanquito. Que siempre parece como conejito mojado.”

Well, that’s definitely not Sunny. Which means that, by ‘hospital,’ Mamá meant ‘psych ward.’ Specifically, the wing for kids who tried to murder their best friend.

Kel’s eyes unfocus a little. The last time he saw Basil, it was—

(—pinned to the wall with Hero's elbow pressed into his throat. Beads of red dripping from his fingers. Even later, blanched and bloodless on the gurney, Kel could still see the blood crusted under his—

Basil wasn’t even very badly hurt, after. It looked a lot worse than it was, but that’s just ‘cause all his wounds were on his face. It’s not like Sunny’d had any way to defend himself. Just his own two hands. At worst, the marks might have got infected from all the grime under Sunny’s unwashed nails.)

“You should go see him!” Mamá says encouragingly. “I’m sure he’d be glad to see a friend.”

…Right. That’s what Kel is. A friend.

###

Basil really is back. He’s coming to school and everything. It’s—weird.

Not bad. It’s not bad. It’s just that talking to Basil is— Um. It’s sort of like playing a videogame about talking to Basil. Like Kel is watching himself from outside-in.

It was the same after Mari. Kel couldn’t wrap his head around why she did it. He couldn’t even stand to think about why she did it. So, he didn’t. He spent months on autopilot. Controlling his body remotely, like a mech pilot or something. ‘Press A to get out of bed.’ ‘Press B to put on your clothes.’ ‘Press X to bring your brother another meal that you both know he isn’t going to eat.’

“K-Kel?” Basil says again.

“Haha, sorry! Guess I spaced out for a second. I just wanted to say that it’s, uh. You know. It’s good to have you back! And if you ever need anything—someone to talk to, or to back you up if someone’s messing with you, or whatever—just, like, let me know.”

Basil doesn’t look up. He just keeps fidgeting with his fingernails, chewing a scab on his lip that’s already started to bleed. He obviously isn’t convinced.

“Hey, c’mon!” Kel whacks him on the arm, making Basil flinch. “You know we’ve got your back. If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell them to talk to me.”

If anything, Basil looks even less convinced. “...R-Right. Um. Thank you. I’ll… do that.”

Kel has to stop himself from scowling. He’s aware that he’s fucking this up. He just doesn’t understand why.

For a few years there, Kel was pretty sure that he was a good friend, at least. If nothing else. Now it turns out he couldn’t even get that right. In the end, it’s like everything else. No matter how hard he tries, it never seems to be enough.

What is it about friendship that he isn’t getting? Isn’t being friends just, like… hanging out, and going on adventures, and having a good time and stuff? Why is everyone so determined to make it into this big exhausting thing?

###

Kel is hanging out on Sunny’s porch again. Though technically it isn’t Sunny’s porch anymore. The For Sale sign is gone, so the sale must have gone through. But no one’s actually moved in yet, so. Not like there’s anyone to kick him out.

Kel isn’t moping, if that’s what you think. Being here is just a habit. Somewhere he goes to be alone. If anyone saw him here, they’d feel too awkward to approach.

…With one obvious exception.

Aubrey stalks across the lawn with her bat slung over one shoulder. The storm brewing in the air frizzes her hair to angry spikes. As usual, she doesn’t mince words.

“Are you seriously still doing this?”

Kel buries his face in his hands. “Why are you still so mad at me?”

“Why do you think?”

Thunder rolls. Lightning rends the sky, a violent gash in the dark.

“I don’t know!!” Kel shouts, too-loud in the ensuing quiet. “That’s why I’m asking!!”

Just for a second, Aubrey’s bat lowers. “...Are you actually fucking stupid? You totally iced me out. For years. In the worst time of my life.”

“I already apologized for that!!”

“I don’t care,” Aubrey snarls. Her goodwill has officially run out. “That doesn’t do anything! I’m not gonna get any less mad until you make it make sense!!”

Kel grimaces. “It’s— It was just…”

…It’s just that she was being so awful. At home, Kel was swallowed up by the black hole of Hero’s grief. And the second he clawed his way out into the light, there was Aubrey, choking, totally coming apart. Kel just wanted to feel okay for two seconds. Was that really so much to ask?

Wasn’t it bad enough that Mari was gone? Wasn’t it enough that Sunny left with her? There were plenty of times when Kel couldn’t get away from it. When he had to lock himself in the shower to keep from breaking down. But did it really have to be all the time? Always? For every second of every day?

Kel couldn’t even laugh at a joke without feeling like a jerk. Like feeling okay for a second was an insult. (Not to Mari, obviously. Mari was like Kel: she found the fun in every moment. Mari would be thrilled to see him whoop after landing a free throw, or laugh because a butterfly landed on his juice-stained shirt. And she’d hate how Hero and Aubrey were acting. So why was Kel the only one who was wrong?)

“I gotta go,” he mutters, jerking to his feet.

Aubrey barks a cold laugh. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You can read Kel's chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43929270/chapters/123048562

Or start from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43929270/chapters/110454879

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [Crossroads]

For Day 24 of Carry on Countdown 23, Cross. @carryon-countdown

In which Simon is an actual half-dragon and he's found himself in a bit of a situation with a certain human mage. What's a familiar even supposed to do anyway?

This part is rated T, mostly just for the language.

Prior Parts: 9, 15, & 18

⋆｡˚

They were at a crossroads. Apparently, there was a lot of magick nestled in crosswords. Baz had explained it some along the way here, but Simon hadn’t really absorbed it all so much. That was fine, this was just introductory. Basil had said Simon didn’t need to remember anything and everything he said about magick anyway.

So here they were, standing at a crossroads, a fairly quiet one it seemed. “It’s not the most powerful we could’ve gone to, but we won’t be disturbed here.” Apparently a more travelled crossroad could store more potential, reach more depths, or something of the like. Simon was trying to pay attention, really he was.

Simon still wasn’t sure what it was they were going to do by being here. Baz was already drawing out chalk circles on the ground in some kind of cryptic obsessive-compulsive pattern. It sort of looked like something that would show up on a late-night BBC documentary about “the corrupted youth.”

He looked over to Basil again.

Yeah, he could have definitely be the face of the corrupted youth. No, maybe not in the traditional way or the way you’d expect. He wore his blazer and shirt and tie all neat and nicely, but his long black as pitch hair slicked back in a short pony and an ears full of golden piercings, his nails painted black… yeah, he could be the corrupted youth. If you looked close enough.

Simon inched closer to those meticulously drawn circles, careful not to disturb them as he squinted down at them. “We’re not summoning some kind of demon are we?”

Basil took a moment to look properly aghast at Simon, pausing his meticulous drawings. “Of bloody course not. That would be insane. It’s barely your first day as a familiar.”

“Oh,” Simon hesitated, “Does that mean we might eventually?”

Basil snorted a sort of half-a-laugh, “Not if we can avoid it. I’d prefer not to lose my soul being reckless like that.”

“Well that’s a bloody relief–”

“We’re banishing one,” Baz interrupted as he puts the finishing touches on his circles, glyphs really, and stands. He claps the dust from his palms and stands himself up outside of the design, circling it and checking his work over.

“I’m sorry, what?” Simon blinked over at Basil, the colour draining from his face, “What happened to it being my first day as a familiar?”

Baz waved his hand dismissively, nose pointed up, “This is easy work. I could do this on my own, in it’s entirety, and I have before. You’ll make it easier though. Just stand…” Baz stepped over to Simon and guides him to a particular point on the design, the eastern side, if Simon wasn’t getting himself mixed up. “Here. Don’t move, don’t break the lines, just hands on the ground on either side of the point and…” the explanation sort of broke up for a moment, “Actually, how do you access your magick, usually?”

Simon settled himself as Baz had described. He didn’t really know too much magick, let alone how to do it well, or even consistently, for that matter. “Accidentally?” He finally admitted.

Baz didn’t answer right away, correcting Simon’s hands only slightly before stepping around to the opposite point of the circle. “How do you go about your little… shape change? Is that not magick?”

“Kind of?” Simon didn’t really know how he did that either, “I think it’s mostly instinct.”

“Alright, well,” Baz shrugged, “Reach for that instinct then. Find whatever little thing that makes you shift and just, I suppose, touch it. Try and touch it without switching shapes.”

Simon’s gaze stayed fixed to that corner for a long while, long enough that the silence between them got a little awkward, that the air between them got a little stale, that Baz started to get a little impatient.

“Think you can manage?”

“Oh, right,” Simon scrunched up his nose and concentrated, thinking about that feeling that came right before the switch, “Yeah, I think I’ve got it.”

“Grand,” Basil planted his own hands the same way Simon’s were, just opposite of him, “Just hold on to that feeling. I’m starting now.”

Before Simon could confirm he’d heard or understood, Baz was speaking. Well, Simon thought it was speaking, but it was definitely in a tongue he’d never heard before and it didn’t feel human. It felt heavy and thick and dark and Baz’s eyes had gone black in the sclera, but Simon didn’t have time to think about that either. He had to keep his mind on that feeling, that little… okay, maybe not so little, orb of energy that caused his shifts. It was warm in his mind and if he thought about it hard enough he could roll it around in his palms, like a small sun, but it wasn’t so scorching like this.

When the demon came through in middle of the glyphs Baz had arranged, it was a whole dramatic affair, or it certainly seemed that way to Simon. It was… a bit beyond direct perception, a swirling mass of dark energy and wispy smoke. The area immediately surrounding them had definitely grown hotter and the cement under Simon’s palms was notably more uncomfortable to the touch, but he didn’t move his palms away.

He did his best to remain as Baz had put him, despite the sweat pooling in the small of his back. It had gotten harder to maintain that connection with his miniature personal ball of sunshine now that the demon had found itself here. 

And then the demon spoke.

Simon fumbled the ball in his mind’s eye and his shape slipped from one to the other like water rushing down from the apex of a waterfall. His wings fluttered behind him at the swiftness of the change, tail stretching out on instinct as his body adjusted, but his claws, even as small as they were comparatively to his human shape had managed to stay solid in that same spot.

Thank Merlin and Morgana and every other mage to come before. He ignored the pure power contained in that voice and focused to pull this orb back into focus. There was no sludge running over his ears, only this sun in his palms, only the magick of it flowing through him.

It was speaking the same tongue that Basil was using, but Basil remained unphased, only focusing harder on his incantation, his brows knit together with effort and sweat starting to bead down the back of his perfect neck. Simon couldn’t help but be taken with his unflappable aura for a moment, impressed by his sheer will to remain unwavering when faced with such a thing as the demon caught between them.

Simon redoubled his efforts to hold that little ball of energy, pulsing brighter the longer Baz chanted. He prayed he hadn’t fucked anything up too hard for Baz when he’d shifted. He also didn’t want to lose his soul to some reckless act within a day of finally finding a steady source of food.

At least in this shape, there was no sweat to gather down his spine and his palms didn’t ache so much. Simon’s wings fanned gently to keep him cool and he allowed himself to concentrate on Basil’s calm repetitions over the oil-slick wet feeling that came with the demon’s words.

Almost as suddenly as the demon appeared, the ground under it fell away.

There was a large whooshing noise.

And then the demon was gone too.

The road reconstructed itself in between the two of them and then everything fell quiet.

Simon stayed poised until Baz moved. Basil stood slowly, dusting his hands off again, and fetched the bucket of water he’d left aside. He poured it over the now sizzling sigils, burned of their power (Simon had no idea how or why he knew that), and that’s when Simon allowed himself to move. He trotted over to Baz’s side and headbutted his calf.

It was as close as he could manage to a ‘good job’ without words.

“Oh,” Baz looked down at him, “You shifted.”

Simon let out a small trill of confirmation and then Baz’s nose started bleeding.

“Oh,” Baz said again, catching the blood in his open palm, and Simon could see he was moving too slowly, that his balance was starting to go, “It seems I over-exerted myself.”

[d3ard3ughter]

Dumping some OMORI he's! First up, Sunny!

- Sunny is pretty delayed mentally due to reverting to childhood as such as a coping mechanism as well as the delay of being home for four years after Mari's death when he was 12 just sleeping and doing the bare minimum to care for himself alongside the neglect from his mother so alongside physical growth he is mentally stunted. mentally for a while, he is 12

- Kel is usually the one being told he stinks/hj but you know it bad when Kel is shoving Sunny to shower or something because of how long he's neglected himself people don't wanna talk about how long you neglect themselves with depression and stuff and how bad it is I think he rarely bathed during those four years and the trauma heightened everything too so that near drowning experience before made him just not wanna be in water too and just some sensory related issues with water

- he has very sensitive hearing and tons of sensory issues He gets overstimulated easily and it is a whole mess because he can't express himself well

- he's autistic and selectively mute adhd too

- he uses sign language alongside just physical contact and stuff and or communication cards and just writing stuff

- Sunny goes non-verbal even if it's not stressful but it's just a big thing and all or a stressor he reverts

- still childish due to the lack of aging mentally and just trying to keep it the way it was before per se And is also on the late developmental spectrum of autism

- he said his first words p late at 3-4 and it was "Mari" but Sunny had a bit of a speech impediment so speech therapy and it was "mawi" for ages

- he's Japanese & Korean English he speaks both but he had difficulties in learning someKorean was mainly at home and English outside but

- yk the raw steak and all thing? That is no longer his favorite food it makes him sick

- Sunny used to wear Mari's clothes a lot whether or not they were old He likes skirts in general a lot The cotton flowy ones because they aren't restricting

- Sunny's voice is developed well due to lack of speech so it hurts to speak at times and it's just raspy and all his baby face does not go with the deep quiet voice he has

- Sunny's bi and he had a crush on Aubrey as implied in canon and also Basil

- he has a collection of stuffed animals and blankets that he's piled on his bed the only thing is it's not messy like you'd expect it's meticulously organized was his side of the room and Mari's was a "mess" but she knew where everything was

- Sunny tends to mimic people a lot especially those he is close with like Mari for example

- After the good ending, Sunny grows his hair out to be like Mari's. Unlike before when he hadn't realized how long it'd grown in the past and had to cut it from sheer panic

- artistic v much so that he likes to draw and write shit but most of it will never see the light of day despite the horrifyingly good detailed nightmare fuel he wants hero to hang up on the fridge

- Mari and Hero's nickname for him is "Sunshine"

- Mari named Sunny because he straight up was a nameless baby for ages and she called him Sunny and he stuck

- Sunny sounds sarcastic and dry and all in everything even when he isn't and it's almost Mirroring Mari's issues in sounding rude and not genuine so they both have to overcompensate

- Sunny has RSD.

- severe separation anxiety

- I think he is still kinda religious he believes in god but that's about it especially because it kinda got shoved down his and Mari's throats as kids he stuck to it but Mari drifted away really

- Sunny is just really dense romantically to for any of the ships the others just have to yank him and say it straight up for him to realize hey, something there

- He doesn't register any flirting or sarcasm

- v sensitive but he just wasn't raised to think it safe to cry or put it out there he was very emotional when he was little and it was overwhelming with no outlet

- high sympathy autistic actually and it a probably meanwhile Maris low empathy autistic

- Sunny becomes a tattoo artist as an adult in the good ending

- Sunny doesn't register flirting or is good at it but he can be kinda bold about things without thinking about it and he catches everyone off guard

- Sunny is very clumsy

- he's anemic so that and being a klutz result in so many Hero questions about him and he's like?? I don't know where that bruise is from

- he was a preemie (born prematurely) so more stunted growth too

- v sick kid all of the time

- woo pulmonary fibrosis

- iron deficiency squad member/HJ

- Sunny is very sarcastic as a person and he doesn't even realize it either but at the same time he is somewhat aware he will get punched if you allow him to say what he wants most of the time He says something so out of pocket and promptly stops verbalizing anything

- Sunny's knife is his emotional support, he snatched it from Hero & Kel's kitchen so when Kel takes it from him he realizes that was the missing knife and is like?? "Why do you have our knife???"

- Mari & Hero would always Kiss injuries better for the younger kid and Sunny is convinced it still worked so Basil does it for Sunny's eye when sunny stabbed Aubrey he tried to do that to apologize and Aubrey was like "WHAT THE FUCK??"

- Sunny has a scar where his eye was stabbed He goes between just with his eye/socket or just an eyepatch too

- has to wear sunscreen just to go outside or else he will just be burned. (It's good to protect yourself anyway) but Sunny is just so pale and sensitive skin and Mari always ingrained it into him to lather sunscreen to go outside

- Sunny is hard of hearing

- he narrates himself whenever he's stressed

- so sunny isn't good at expressing himself and he got it from mimicking how Mari handles herself So when he can't verbalize his feelings and all and she isn't getting any the hints no matter what he resorted to throwing and breaking the violin as the I'm fed up to get her attention and it backfired because before she's find out the problem becomes she understood breaking things as a means id expressing because I see her having the issue as a kid and just she realizes it's not socially acceptable so its put more like Squeezing things and nails in her hands type thing but she just assumes sunny was doing it to make her made rather rhan expressing jt

The autistic to autistic communication is not communicating and Sunny wanted to verbalize it and react to the overwhelming emotions without hurting himself or someone else so he acted out on the violin but Mari, his safe space, getting so angry and for a skittish kid and sensitive one he felt threatened and was scared so it resulted in the shove

- He particularly mimics Mari a lot in general so they share a lot of habits and all because of the mimicking and just being family and close but she is his go-to if he has to mimic and he doesn't even realize he's doing it

Mari and everyone thought it was cute at first until Mari realized oh he's doing what I do

- I also think Mari & Sunny's parents weren't particularly good about dealing with Sunny selective mutism and also his neutral expression that was only ever changed when he cried or something and Sunny attempted to poorly

[impostorsshow]

Hi I nailed down more stuff for my Omori au including the design for whitespace Jack so here's the basic stuff about it

Jack has curly hair because that's my personal headcanon, if anyone wants to work off of my interpretation but doesn't agree like do whatever Jack is bald in canon I do not care also if I Knew How to do bullet points I Would

I am well aware that Jack and the rest of the crew in DSaF are grown ass men, but the storyline of Omori simply wouldn't work if Sunny was a 30 year old rotting corpse so forgive me for making everyone teens

Dee takes the place of Mari. Her "Something" form is the puppet, I just forgot to draw her normal appearance here because I wanted to post something about this in order to continue being motivated enough to draw, my forte with aus is words - but she has hair the same shade as peters shown above that's about medium length past the shoulders and that red scarf, probably a pink skirt and wears a sweater of some sort

Peter takes the Place of Basil - he is still Dee and Jack's older brother, but panicked and the only thing he could think of when he found Jack and Dee was to not have his little brother get caught, and helped him. Now, he avoids Jack around the house at all times, not being able to stand what he done, knowing now that he's older and has a management job at the local pizza place and a girlfriend he's too nervous to pop the question to, that Jack probably would have been fine since it was an accident. Appearance wise, he is not. Y'know a phone head but ever since the incident happened, whenever Jack tried to approach him Peter took out his phone and pretended to be busy. His hair is naturally curly like Jack's, but he straightens it before he goes to Fazbenders because it "looks unprofessional, and his employees slack off too much anyway, especially the older ones. Someone has to be setting a standard so they work harder." Peter is the entire reason that one business part of whitespace exists and it's fazbenders instead of casino sharks

Jack is Omori/Sunny, going by "Old Sport" in whitespace. Furthermore, Blackjack is Mewo, and whitespace Jack has a dulled version of Blackjacks tie to indicate the connection between them. I've never played Omori myself and need to, but Jack is the only thing in the world with these colors. Bright stain your eyes yellow exists but the dulled dirty yellow does not, and neither does blackjacks rich dark purple color. On the contrary, while teal and blue seems to be incredibly common in the game, the most common colors are a soft red and lavender.

I honestly haven't planned out who Aubrey is, but the reason for that is that I can't decide whether Dave fits better as Aubrey [fully because of Henry] or Kel. I am leaning toward Kel though because I don't know who would be the first person to go seek Jack out other than him

Wait if Dave could be Kel then who's Hero you ask-? No one. Hero doesn't exist, the closest he gets to existing is Steven in whitespace because I can't tell the phone guys apart because I want to make Peter hero, but in order for him to be Basil Peter needs to be missing- I might make Hero or whitespace Basil Harry at some point, though. Suggestions are welcome since I have no clue

I actually really want to learn how to make a mod so I could mod. Omori in order to tell this au but I don't know how and I don't even know if Omo-Cat would allow that for their game so. I can at least redraw screenshots eventually though

[snailsbigrace]

Pre-trauma BASIL Headcanons

(Discontinued)

A/N: I have another one! I loved how this one turned out so please enjoy! Once again this is from my Wattpad!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k

- ANOTHER PURE BABY

- Let's start this off by saying he LOVES to tell people about plants, not only because he's interested in them but also because he feels like it makes him smarter when he's the one able to give fun facts to people. 

- He's very down on himself, often not thinking he's good enough, even before the events of the game. So being able to go "Did you know-" really makes him feel better.

- He also enjoys hearing MARI talk about fun facts as well! He finds what she talks about is really interesting! She always seems to know so much! 

- He looks up to all his friends! But mostly SUNNY, MARI, and AUBREY! Those three have had the biggest impact on him in a good way! They've taught him to not be so down on himself and that people who actually want to be his friend will like him for who he is!

- When HERO and MARI aren't around he's usually the most responsible and reasonable one, trying to de-escalate fights between AUBREY and KEL. 

- He's also KEL's voice of reason when the two oldest aren't present. Often encouraging him to think before acts and to not do anything stupid.

- BASIL likes to play with AUBREY, KEL, and MARI's hair, he doesn't really know why, but he does! SUNNY and HERO's are too short and so he doesn't enjoy it as much. 

- Though he rarely ever gets to touch KEL's hair, since KEL doesn't like it when people touch it because he finds it embarrassing/too girly to play with hair.

- AUBREY's the one who enjoys it the most! She also offers to play with and do BASIL's hair! Which BASIL always accepts! 

- BASIL named some of his plants after all of his friends! He makes sure to take extra care of those ones! 

- Strikes me as the type of person to read an unGodly amount.  

- BASIL likes to share and trade books with HERO and MARI. Those two read a lot just like him! But the ones that HERO and MARI read have bigger words so sometimes he struggles.

- When BASIL doesn't know how to read a word he'll go to SUNNY and if SUNNY doesn't know how to read it he'll go to HERO! 

- He likes to help HERO and MARI cook and bake! He mostly just grabs ingredients, and always gets to lick the batter off after!

- Though sometimes KEL and AUBREY catch him and complain about not being able to lick the batter, making BASIL feel bad.

- He LOVES thunderstorms, there's just something about them that soothes him. He really loves to watch them as well!

- Reading is also another thing he likes to do during thunderstorms! The atmosphere is perfect for it!

- He loves to read to his grandma, mainly fairytales! He knows that fairytales were something she heavily grew up with and so he hopes that by reading fairytales to her he'll be able to get a smile out of her.

- He also likes to tell his grandma about adventures he goes on with his friends and what sort of trouble KEL and AUBREY get themselves into with HERO and MARI.

- She always laughs at his stories.

- BASIL loves to make people smile in general! He loves people's smiles! That's why he likes his friends so much! They smile so often, it really makes him happy!

- He likes to watch KEL and SUNNY play video games, he finds it funny when KEL rages! He always tells KEL "Don't worry! You'll definitely win next time!" but KEL never wins the next time.

- When SUNNY loses BASIL does the exact same thing, but in a more comforting way. As SUNNY doesn't rage, he's just sad.

- BASIL likes to share jokes with KEL and HERO, especially terrible puns. KEL always groans and rolls his eyes, but always snickers a little.

- HERO loves terrible puns, so he always laughs, he sometimes laughs so hard that even BASIL starts to laugh.

- BASIL likes to draw little flowers on his schoolwork, he also lets SUNNY draw onto his schoolwork too as well as AUBREY!

- He doesn't let KEL though... KEL finds it funny to draw peens. BASIL doesn't want to get in trouble.

- Sometimes his teachers get annoyed at the amount of doodles on his paper, but at the same time it makes the paper more interesting.

- Has definitely had a crush on both SUNNY and KEL. But after time those crushes went away. ( Sorry Sunflower, Cactiflower, and Sunkissed shippers :'( )

- BASIL heavily ships HERO and MARI together. He isn't like KEL and AUBREY who tell them to kiss, but if they kissed and he just so happened to have his camera on him you know he's taking a picture. 

- He'd probably lead KEL, SUNNY, and AUBREY away from the two so that they could catch a break and relax together.

- He likes to match clothes with SUNNY as much as possible! Which MARI finds absolutely adorable and KEL thinks is gross.

- BASIL often vents to SUNNY as he listens to BASIL, but he wouldn't be opposed to venting to AUBREY or HERO. 

- He knows KEL doesn't really know how to take anything seriously and that MARI would worry too much or more likely not understand so he prefers to avoid venting to those three. 

- SUNNY's a great listener in BASIL's eyes so that he more often then not chooses SUNNY. But if he wants actual advice he'll talk to HERO about it. 

- He's a cuddler, he loves to cuddle, which often makes his hugs last way too long. His favorite people to hug are AUBREY, MARI and HERO!

- BASIL is the one who explains things to SUNNY after he's done zoning out along with MARI! MARI does have a tendency to tell him "Don't worry about it." though. 

- BASIL prefers to actually explain what he missed, which is usually just KEL and AUBREY bickering or HERO and MARI flirting.

- Is a little shy around new people but becomes more open very quickly! Especially when one of his other friends are there with him!

- Out of instinct BASIL probably complains about plants that aren't taken care of, like at school. He'll notice it's too dehydrated, too cramped, etc, and immediately complains to his friends about it.

- KEL's reaction is very much "So?"

- AUBREY always gives him a smile and says "Lets go tell them about it!" - SUNNY tries to comfort BASIL, telling him "I'm sure they'll notice eventually..."

- HERO's reaction is definitely a mix of AUBREY and SUNNY's "I'm sure that they'll notice but if they don't we can tell them about it!" - MARI's is something along the lines of "Oh no! Poor plant! Why don't we help it out?" - BASIL likes to let AUBREY sleep over at his house because he knows that her home life isn't great from what she's told him. 

- He'll even set up a spot for Mr. Eggplant! As well as wishing Mr. Eggplant goodnight along with AUBREY! 

Woah! Another one done! I wasn't sure how my hc for BASIL would turn out but I really like them! I'm really trying to make it so that some characters interact more with each other! :)  

[starkcanvas]

So when little baby Lucas gets older, what things do members of the gang like to do with him? Like does Sunny draw with him, does Basil get him to 'help' with some plants, ect.

Mmm... this'll be interesting as I'm still having a bit of trouble what kind of personality to give him which will definitely relfect his tastes and interests with certain things/hobbies

I imagine Lucas would like to draw with Sunny but do remember that Uncle Sunny is unfortunately gonna be extremly busy due to him working and taking over his Pop's company. So Lucas isn't gonna be seeing him for all that long when he does see him.

Sunny absolutely tries his best to see his fam but work is just that demanding ^^; he understands his Pop's pain and wonders how he managed to do it with him and Mari growing up lmao

I think with Uncle Kel, he's gonna be trying his best to get his nephew up and active at a young age, eventually having him as a gym teacher when in HS lol

With Auntie Aubrey, I think Lucas would let her mess around with his hair. Mari choosing her as his go-to hair stylist whenever he needs a haircut lol and then maybe when he's older, his aunt's pink hair gives him the inspiration to maybe grow his own hair out a bit and then plans on dying a few streaks in it like his mother💕 not sure what colour yet tho

And then with Uncle Basil, I think Lucas likes to see him as the relaxed and admittedly fun Uncle (Much to Kel's dismay sometimes lmao) Lucas likes to go to Uncle Basil's place as he thinks him and Auntie Aubrey are more laid back than his Uncle Sunny and Kel lmao

He likes helping Basil with his garden and even recently planted a plant for Lucas along with everyone elses- the ghost friends having their flowers too- altho no one except Basil knows what Lucas' is so it's secret for now lol

[aintashes]

if he's honest, daryl thought that his attempt was alright. not as good as peter's, of course— his is quite thick and a little clumsy around the edges where his companion's is more uniform and elegant, like something you'd actually be given at a restaurant in the before days —but overall, he was happy enough with the result of his efforts.

peter's laughter, though, leads him to reconsider any pride that came from his little ravioli. that's exactly what people say when what you've given them, whatever sort of thing you've produced, isn't very good at all, isn't it? like a bad painting or a sad sculpture— it's got character. it makes daryl roll his eyes and scoff at the clear criticism, setting his formed piece of dough down beside peter's with a sideways, knowing smile.

he hadn't expected his own attempt to be good. like he'd asserted in the first place, he's no good at this sort of thing: he's never handled clay in the name of art, never made anything artistic with his hands; he barely ever even picked up a crayon to draw as a child.

cooking is quite like art in that way— or at the very least, there's a kind of art to forming perfect pockets of pasta. to creating any food at all. and daryl... he's good with his hands, skilled to a level that leaves many in awe of his talents, but his smooth movements and his confidence don't translate to art. he's mechanical. a fighter. not a creator.

all of that said, peter didn't have to laugh, did he? the tips of daryl's ears redden with his natural coyness, but his expression betrays how his companion's lighthearted energy has rubbed off on him as he speaks. ‘ uh-huh. laugh it up, pete. ’ daryl raises his hand in a flippant wave, flour-coated fingers purposefully sending a little bit of powder in peter's direction.

luckily, spooning filling into the ravioli doesn't exactly take that much finesse— this is something he can do, and do well. he even takes the liberty of closing up each opening after he's filled it, if only to save some time and offer a bit more tangible helpfulness as peter toils away over by the stovetop.

just as soon as he's finished the duties presented to him, peter is replacing the bowl of ravioli with a healthy portion of homemade tagliatelle. it looks just as good as it smells, long and widely cut pieces of pasta swirling together in a bed of savory basil tomato sauce. although daryl waits for a minute or two, allowing the hot meal to steam, it isn't long at all until he does dig in. his companion hasn't even sat down with him yet— bad manners, he's been told before, but he doesn't think peter will actually mind it or he wouldn't be doing it —before he's swirling his fork into the pasta and pulling some up to his mouth for a big, slurping first bite.

it's just as good as he imagined it would be. actually, it's much better than that: the pasta is tender but has some bite to it; the sauce is robust with the addition of the basil, a small hint of tomatoey sweetness lingering in the aftertaste. anyone would call it luxurious nowadays. a privilege. daryl is no critic when it comes to food and his palate is not exactly refined, but the way he grunts and gives a steady, bouncing nod of his head should be indication enough to peter that he's very much enjoying it.

daryl's nearly halfway done with his share when peter brings everything else to the table. it only feels right to try the ravioli together, doesn't it? so he follows suit and takes a pause from his plate, stabbing a fork into one of the extras from the pan and bringing it over.

he'll elect to ignore the way peter's words drive a stomachfull of confused butterflies into his gut. instead, he averts his gaze in favor of focusing on the ravioli itself— and if his ears burn now, scarlet tips poking out from his dark hair, daryl will tell himself that it's assuredly just residual embarrassment from peter's earlier remarks. nothing more.

the ravioli is just as delicious as the pasta is, pockets of juicy tomato bursting upon biting into it. he can't help but to smile.

            immediately, peter's taken by the idea. between rabbit or, if they're really lucky, wild boar, he can't quite decide what sounds better.

            ❛ damn, yeah! when i made ravioli, my go-to was either pig or lamb. chicken was also great with cheese. and y'know— you guys grow potatoes. i'm just sayin', ravioli stuffed with sweet potato... ❜

           as daryl draws attention to his finished product, it takes everything in peter not to burst out laughing. it isn't terrible by any means, especially not for a guy who was so guarded about cooking— as if he was the worst chef on the face of the earth— but its messy edges endear him. if he's honest, this is an incredibly humanising moment; daryl's skills have been highly appreciated against the cult's advances, but it's been incredibly easy to feel intimidated by his extremely high threshold of reliability. to feel burdensome. this far-from-perfect ravioli pocket is a reminder that, like the rest of them here, daryl's only human.

            ❛ it's... got a lot of character! ❜ peter replies, his mouth a wobbly line before he drums his hands against the table with a bark of good-natured laughter.  ❛ nah, hers'll be too good. she'll have me laughed outta the kitchen and i'm quite enjoying being better than you at something, thank you very much. ❜

           he helps clear the last of the dough before rising from his seat. the heat is flicked up, the boiling water immediately beginning to bubble; the tomato sauce starting to spit. nice, the lower heat worked out perfectly. carefully, he brings over a small bowl of the filling he's boiled, setting it in front of daryl alongside a spoon.

            ❛ just scoop a spoonful into each pocket 'n' put it back in the bowl. i'll handle the rest. ❜

           and handle it he does. by the time daryl is ready to hand him the ravioli back, he's drained the original water and set the tagliatelle into two bowls ( daryl's portion quite a bit larger than his own; he's never eaten much and he's not about to start challenging his appetite now when food is so scarce ). he exchanges the ravioli for daryl's share, setting it in front of him with a fork in tow before heading back to the hob.

           even after so long, peter is used to eating afterwards. he'd always dish up charlie's first, let her indulge while he added whatever he wanted to his own meal. it's why he doesn't mind waiting whatsoever for the ravioli to finish. it only takes around four minutes anyway with the heat on high. by the time it's drained and set on his plate— the piece daryl had made very pointedly among them— before he brings that and the remaining pieces in the pan to the table. as he sits down and gently stabs his fork into the slightly misaligned piece daryl had made:

            ❛ people say the secret ingredient of any good food is heart; so let's see what your love tastes like, chef. ❜

[bengallemon]

claps hands HIKIKEL. HIKIKEL. HIKIKEL.

Hikikel thoughts and concepts except I only talk about the blorbo (Sunny)

He is, somehow, the absolute rock of the group after everything. Kel withdraws, Mari ends up glued to her piano in an angry-depressive mess, Aubrey is too afraid to be near any of them, Basil is too angry and hurt at losing the best male figure he's ever had and Hero's. Dead.

The first 6 months he was completely lost and trying to figure out where to go from there, being really awkward around Mari (whose moods were absolutely terrible for a long time) and just accepting that Hero's gone and there's no way crying will bring him back.

After the 6 months he picks the violin back up again, this time wanting to keep going and move on, as well as actively try and do as best as possible in school (and drawing stuff)

And he thrives. Flourishes, even. It isn't long before he's right up near the top of his classes. And it's so lonely up there.

Where Mari is suddenly making pitfalls and mistakes, her attitude warping and her grades beginning to rust, Sunny's going near perfectly, always polite when spoken to (although still awkward as all hell, that'll never change), grades sky-high. It creates a whole new layer of tension between them.

Sunny goes to Hero's grave at least 3 times a week, just to talk, pay respects and leave behind flowers and art pieces, as well as to practise the violin, as a tribute.

Sunny's longest, still on-going project is a full tribute to Hero, with a whole, originally composed violin piece and a whole slew of pencil sketches and paintings.

He keeps trying to knock on Kel's door and waits as long as he needs to, he promised one time at Hero's grave that he'll get Kel out of that house and back into the sunlight, even if it kills him.

Sunny was the third person to see Hero's body. He heard a crash from their house, and debated whether or not he should check. He arrived to see Kel basically destroyed and Aubrey in tears, to go outside and see the body for the first time.

He can rarely look in mirrors. He sees the body behind him when he does.

Sunny teaches himself how to cook, his favourite things to cook are meat. And more meat. He also makes little cat-safe meals for Mewo, who's basically his cat at this point now.

He tried to get Mari away from her piano but every time she'd snap at him, and ignore him when he tried to give her something like food.

For the first 18 months Sunny basically lived in the treehouse. The lake is one of his favourite spots to practise, especially when he's in a much more secluded part of it, where he can just play without fearing someone see him.

Sunny very much also has a bad perfectionist streak, he hates how it controls Mari (and killed Hero) so he tries to manage it. It works, for the most part.

The one-year-post-Hero incident sees Mari misinterpreting Sunny's sudden flourishment and success, as well as him not even seeming fazed at all (on the outside) as him not actually caring Hero died. Sunny loses it at her and yells that Hero was just as important to him as he was to her, and that all she does now is rot away at a piano she loves more than Sunny (he's what. 13. And traumatized. He's gonna have lots of feelings and not good control over what he says when he's losing it)

He leaves the house in the middle of a storm, eventually finding himself at Hero's grave again, to just break down and confess all his feelings. He can't let himself stagnate and grieve or deal with the loss in any way, because he's the only person still really doing anything with their life and if he stops then he won't be able to get back up again.

He resolves to keep going no matter the cost, and just let Mari stay on her own and heal her own way.

(after that fight, Mari is a lot more distant and awkward around Sunny because she's trying to process everything he said and reevaluate her viewpoints. It'll still be a while before it properly sets in how badly she screwed up.)

LONG HAIR SUNNY SUPREMACY. PONYTAIL SUNNY SUPREMACY. I am a simple person. Pretty Sunny Supremacy.

Basil and Sunny are the first to reconnect, after the first 18 months or so. Basil was originally thinking the same things as Mari about Sunny, before finding Sunny having a bad time™️ at the lake with his practising, (including some very colourful language being hurled at the water).

He sorta just sits there and watches, not really understanding what Sunny's so pissed about with his violin, before hearing Sunny angrily rant about the sound quality and how complex the piece he's trying to learn is. Speed and stuff of the notes. Music things.

Basil just takes the time to reevaluate his thinking and see that Sunny is Stressed™️ about everything, showing when he's alone in his words, his voice, his body language.

Their first meeting is very awkward and confusing because both of them have changed so much over just 18 months, but it isn't long before they're actively vibing together and comfortable around each other.

Do not let an exceedingly lonely, angry and touch-starved gay and an exceedingly lonely, stressed, tired and touch-starved bisexual near each other for an extended period of time.

They're never seen in public together because then folks will go crazy and school rumours would fly of the pretty kid/perfect student hanging round with the strange feral bitey kid.

Sunny basically lives at Basil's house. Basil's grandma loves him. Polly loves him but is afraid for him. They have a field day teasing Basil.

The gap between the first 18 months and 4 years is mostly just them reconnecting further, working together on things. Sunny begins working on his tribute (planned for New Year's of the 4, soon 5 then mark. I have a special bit planned for that night that'll be equal parts angst and crack/comedy)

Sunny still goes to Hero's grave regularly, and slowly begins to question the exact nature of his death. Yes, all evidence shows he was hung, but why was his neck like that? Why was there skin broken where it wouldn't make sense to be?

Sunny's grave dialogue would be him talking about the first major fight between him and Mari, as well as what it was like seeing Hero's body and the first 6-18 months. Some very well placed words to confirm if Kel is aware (at least, subconsciously) that something is very off about Hero's death. When Kel gives off little twitches and changes in body language, it basically means that all he has to do is casually question Aubrey.

He was the first to see the fight between Kel and Aubrey. From there, watching Kel be completely silent and not really there, to Aubrey crying and begging for forgiveness, to Mari bursting in and realising what's happened, calling an ambulance and Basil trying to help out, it's almost an exact reenactment to Hero's death 4 years ago.

Upon confessing the truth, all Sunny does is run up to Kel and hug him. It's been a suspicion for a while, so while it stings, he understands. He doesn't forgive, but he can understand. When Mari snaps (she's now even angrier and hurt) he's the first person to tell her to leave the room.

Sunny is the one that brings everyone back together (at least, mostly together), and he does everything he can to honour Hero's memory, firmly believing that the past is the past and he is powerless to change that.

(Now funny concepts for if Hero rose from the dead:)

Sunny immediately runs up to him and clocks him the jaw with no hesitation. What follows is a lot of angry crying and yelling at the very confused and very scared Hero.

He's mostly pissed that all his words about how Hero's dead and nothing can change that is now invalid and he can't deal with it. And now his whole tribute may be in shambles since it's a death tribute.

Sunny recovers and starts reworking it into an un-death tribute.

And there's a very long string of ideas and rambles about the Hikikel version of my blorbo. Or at least, my interpretation of Hikikel. Hero coming back from the dead would be a very funny thing to write/draw. It'd be very messed up as well, but also very funny to see Bully Hero Hours.

Also: Mari isn't a bad person, just in a real bad place mentally. She's trying her best, and that's what matters. They're all trying their best to cope.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)

You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)

"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"

"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."

"I'll talk to that fu-"

"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.

Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."

He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.

"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"

Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."

"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."

Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.

Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.

"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.

(Read more below the cut)

Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."

-------------

Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.

They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.

Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.

Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.

He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.

After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.

He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.

With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.

While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.

Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.

"Made dinner," he said casually.

Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."

"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.

"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.

"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."

Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."

He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."

"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."

His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."

"Sorry?"

He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.

Harry blinked, "That's amazing."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."

"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"

"Is that what earlier was about?"

Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"

"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"

"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.

"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.

Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked.

"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"

"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."

"I-"

"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"

He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."

"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."

Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."

Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.

"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."

He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."

"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."

"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"

Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."

Harry frowned.

"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."

"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."

"Be that as it may-"

"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."

Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."

Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."

A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.

"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.

The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.

-----------------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[sunnysviolin]

Day Nine- Favorite Boss

Okay so this time I didn't forget to post this here I just hadn't finished it yet. SOOOOOOO yeah I'm playing catch up but we all knew it was gonna happen

“I had problems a therapist couldn't solve; grief that no man in a room could ameliorate.” ― Cheryl Strayed

“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” ― Rumi

In his time as a psychotherapist, Peter Roquefort had helped a number of eccentric patients. Generally the children he worked with were very special cases, kids who needed a special touch or a careful conversation digging deeper into what exactly was hurting them. Even among his peers Peter was known as the go to for the difficult ones, the ones who wouldn’t or couldn’t find a way to explain exactly what they needed. He had spent a lot of time in local police precincts working with children who had dealt with the worst humanity had to offer, and there were plenty of social workers that had both his work and personal cell numbers. He was dedicated to his profession, probably to a fault given his lack of a love life, and working with the kids was heartbreaking but exceptionally rewarding.

Still he had never encountered anyone quite like Sunny.

Sunny hadn’t trusted him with the entire truth of the story until quite a few weeks into their sessions. He and Peter had gone through a strange back and forth on what Peter had to tell others and what Peter had to keep secret. Of course in hindsight it made perfect sense, and Sunny was not a danger to himself or anyone else now so Peter had no reason to inform anyone of what had occured, but a lot of the teenager’s issues were made clear once Peter knew it all. Yes losing his sister to suicide was a tragedy, and yes finding her would have been highly traumatizing, but Peter couldn’t see how it would have caused the extent of Sunny’s psychosis.

Accidentally killing his sister and then helping his best friend to frame it as a suicide? Well...that would definitely be enough to give even the most well adjusted person some pretty severe issues.

But it was more than just the horrors of Sunny’s story, and there were quite a few there to unpack. It was also the way Sunny acted. He was a walking contradiction, one minute creative and open to share, the next shut down and silent. It was hard to piece together what of the boy’s memories were true, what were embellished the way memories get after someone in them dies, and which were the dissociative comforts of a child that was desperate to escape from himself. Peter had been working hard to help, but the layers of this case sometimes seemed far out of his depth.

Sunny sat in front of him now, sketching in his favorite book and periodically staring out the window. Sometimes their sessions went this way, with Sunny silently sketching and Peter occasionally interjecting to try and begin a conversation. It worked about half the time, but Sunny always seemed settled when he left no matter what they did, so Peter was content with these occasional quiet days. He craned his neck to look at what Sunny was doing now.

It was a brown pencil sketch, messy but refined. It was a girl with long hair, not his sister from what Peter could tell, and she was holding a rolling pin. Sunny was drawing a piece of bread next to her? As Sunny began to draw a face into the bread, Peter decided to cut in.

“Does this magic bread lady have a name?”

Sunny looked up and smiled, laughter in his eyes. He finished the face in the bread and turned it so Peter could see what he was doing. The bread had turned into a boy, who had bread for a head. Both the boy and the girl had sad expressions, but Sunny hadn’t drawn them in blue the way he usually drew sad people.

“Doughie,” Sunny supplied, and Peter nodded. A talking day then, “Her twin is Biscuit”

Peter made a note of the names on his notepad, something he kept near him for all of the names Sunny told him. These sounded like names related to his dreams, but Peter could never be positive. Basil and Hero were both very real people who lived in his old town according to Sunny.

“They don’t seem very happy,” Peter commented, letting his unspoken question stand. Sunny liked taking his time to answer, and Peter didn’t like to rush him. Sunny usually got uncomfortable with having to process a lot at once, and talking about his maladaptive daydreams was always a toss up.

“They feel trapped where they are, so they’re not happy,” Sunny replied, continuing to add details to the drawings. “They were the ones who created everything in the dreamworld. They baked everyone out of flour and then when someone became toast the unbread twins made them again. I based them on this set of twins Mari was sorta friends with,”

Mari wasn’t a subject that Sunny often brought up all on his own, so Peter took the chance while he had it to dig a little deeper. Keep it neutral, not emotions, just facts

“Mari was close with them?”

“With Daphne, the girl,” Peter's strategy worked. Sunny was fine with recalling facts that had nothing to do with him. This was just something that existed, it held no positive or negative charge. Peter dug further.

“Is that why you made them the creators in your dream world? Because she was friends with Mari?” Sunny looked up from his drawing, eyebrows furrowed as he muddled over the questions. Peter broke his own rule and elaborated on his question, knowing Sunny needed some more clarification, “Hero was Mari’s best friend as far as I remember, and he was just himself. I’m curious as to why these two specifically were so important,”

Sunny rolled his shoulders and tapped his pencil against the page in a staccato beat. Not good, Peter had unintentionally slipped into a previous unseen rabbit hole of Sunny’s mind, something that happened pretty often in their sessions. It seemed every time he thought he had discovered everything in Sunny’s past, there was another hurdle he had never expected jumping out. Unraveling the tangled web was immensely satisfying, but moments like this required precision.

“You know our rule, Sunny.” Peter said, interrupting the boy’s thought pattern wherever it had gone. Better to interject before Sunny came to his own conclusions on whether or not he could share this with his therapist.

“If I don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t,” Sunny parroted back, the words ingrained in his head from how often Peter said them. The man nodded, pleased that Sunny knew it and believed it enough to be able to say it back.

Then he sat back in his chair and waited, placing his notebook to the side. There were times where it was better to just be in the moment. He might miss a few details later recalling, but there were times patients just needed to be heard, not analyzed.Sunny went back to staring out the window and tapped his pencil, the beat less harsh and more dazed. He was somewhere back far away, and Peter mentally reminded himself to run through a grounding exercise before Sunny left for the day.

“It happened at Mari’s funeral,”

Peter bit the tip of his tongue, keeping his mouth shut and his face encouraging but not eager. The biggest thing he had learned in all of his time at practice was patience. He was not a patient man by design, he was someone that wanted to solve problems and was eager to help others. He had chosen a job that required an extreme amount of something he didn’t have much of, and Sunny needed that patience more than most. He wasn’t a talkative person, he wasn’t a person who shared easily, and Peter sensed he was about to get a story out of Sunny that the boy probably hadn’t told before. Sunny looked up and they stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking or breaking eye contact.

Whatever Sunny saw must have been the right thing to do, even if Peter had no idea what that was, because the boy sighed and shut his eyes, starting to talk.

“I don’t really remember much of it. We were at the church, my dad and the pastor spoke. People didn’t talk to me. They came and talked to my mom and dad before and after. Kel might’ve tried a little, but his mom pulled him away. I don’t know.” Sunny spoke in short sentences, pausing and considering his words between each one. It got like this when he spoke about hard things, things that needed courage or delicate phrasing. Peter was content to wait and draw it out.

“The only ones who talked to me were the twins. After we buried...after it was over. I was sitting on the steps of the church alone. My mom and dad were talking to the pastor, everyone else was gone. The twins walked out of the church and got down on my level.

Bowen didn’t talk. Daphne said some sort of prayer. I don’t remember it. Then she said that Mari wasn’t gone. But Mari was, we had just buried her. She said it again. Mari isn’t gone. She said Mari was the wind in the trees. The sound of a piano. The brightness of a smile. That Mari was someone new now, but it was okay because we would be reunited. She told me no one ever really died, not fully. Bowen gave me a necklace with a cross. Then they left,”

Sunny went back to drawing, and Peter let him, giving them both a minute to recover. The connection was obvious then. Sunny had been desperate at that point for any way to still have his sister, and there were two people telling him that she wasn’t really dead. Peter wasn’t particularly religious himself, but in this situation he could see the appeal of a god that told you that your loved ones were never going to be gone. Before Peter could point out this connection and try to get Sunny to expand on it, the boy spoke again, this time keeping his eyes on the drawings.

“The last time I was in Headspace, we fought the Unbread twins. At the end they left their bakery, and now Headspace is gone. Mari’s gone too. I don’t know if its for forever or not,” Sunny said, daring a quick glance up to his doctor. Peter hummed, pulling his notepad back into his lap and jotting down some quick things. A quick glance to his watch told him time was almost up for them.

“I don’t think I can tell you that Sunny. That’s all about your own beliefs,” Peter replied, answering the unspoken question the child had asked. It clearly wasn’t the answer he had been looking for, and Peter’s heart cracked for him. It would have been easy to go along with whatever idea had been planted in the boy’s mind, but that wasn’t Peter’s job. Still...leaving things here for the day didn’t feel right. Peter weighed his options and took the leap.

“I think that whatever you believe, Daphne was right about some things. There are parts of Mari that live on in you and the people that loved her. Not literally, but in the compassion you show others and the growth you want to have. It might not be a magical bread god that resurrects you every time you get hurt, but it’s a place to start.”

[d3ard3ughter]

Dumping (New & Old) Sunny headcanons

Dumping sunny hcs nowww

- Sunny’s p mentally delayed in development and all due to spending four years after Mari’s death when he was 12 just sleeping and doing the bare minimum to care for himself alongside the neglect from his mother so alongside physical growth he is mentally stunted

- Kel is usually the one being told he stinks/hj but you know its bad when kel is shoving Sunny to shower or something because of how long he’s neglected himself

Like people dont wanna talk about how long you neglect yourself with depression and stuff and how bad it is i think he rarely bathed during those four years

And the trauma heightened everything too so that near drowning experience before made him just not wanna be in water too and just some sensory related issues with water

- he has v sensitive hearing and like tons of sensory issues

He gets overstimulated easily and its a whole mess because he can’t express himself well

- he’s autistic and selectively mute adhd too

- he uses sign language alongside just physical contact and stuff and or communication cards and just writing stuff

- Sunny goes non-verbal even if its not stressful but its just a big thing and all or a stressor he reverts

- still p childish due to the lack of aging mentally and just trying to keep it thr way it was before per se

And hes also on the late developmental spectrum of autism

- he said his first words p late at 3-4 and it was “mari” but sunny had a bit of speech impediment so speech therapy and it was “mawi” for ages

- he’s Japanese & Korean alongside English he speaks both but like he had difficulties in learning some

Korean was mainly at home and English outside but he had difficulties in learning

- yk the raw steak and all thing? That is no longer his favorite food it makes him sick

- Sunny used to wear Mari’s clothes a lot whether it or not they were old

He likes skirts in general a lot

The cotton-y flowy ones because they aren’t restricting

- Sunny’s voice is developed really well due to lack of speech so it hurts to speak at times and its just raspy and all his baby face does not go with thr deep quiet voice he has (but it’s still a very very quiet hushed voice)

- Sunny’s bi and he had a crush on Aubrey as implied in canon and also Basil

- he has a collection of stuffed animals and blankets that he’s piled on his bed the only thing is it’s not messy like you’d expect it’s meticulously organized was his side of the room and mari’s was a “mess” but she knew where everything was

- Sunny tends to mimic people a lot especially those he is close with like Mari for example

- After the good ending, Sunny grows his hair out to be like Mari’s. Unlike before when he hadn’t realized how long it’d grown in the past and had to cut it from sheer panic

- artistic v much so he likes to draw and write shit but most of it will never see the light of day despite the horrifyingly good detailed nightmare fuel je wants hero to hang up on the fridge

- Mari and Hero’s nickname for him is “sunshine”

- Mari named sunny because he straight up was a nameless baby for ages and she called him sunny and ir stuck

- Sunny sounds v sarcastic and dry and all in everything even when he isn’t and it’s almost Mirroring Mari’s issues in sounding rude and not genuine so they both have to overcompensate

- Sunny has RSD.

- severe separation anxiety

- i think he is still kinda religious he believes in god but that’s about it

Especially because it kinda got shoved down his and mari’s throats as kids he stuck to it but mari drifted away really

- Sunny is just really dense romantically to for any of the ships the others just have to yank him and say it straight up for him to realize hey, somethings there

- He doesn’t register any flirting or sarcasm

- v sensitive but he just wasn’t raised to think its safe to cry or put it out there but he was v emotional when he was little and it was overwhelming with no outlet

- high sympathy autistic actually and its a probably meanwhile maris low empathy autistic

- Sunny becomes a tattoo artist as an adult in the good ending

- sunny doesn’t register flirting or is good at it but he can be kinda bold about things without thinking about it and he catches everyone off guard

- Sunny is v clumsy

- he’s anemic so that and being a klutz results in so much Hero questions about him and hes like?? I dont know where that bruise is from

- he was a preemie (born prematurely) so more stunted growth too

- v sick kid all of the time

- woo pulmonary fibrosis

- iron deficiency squad member/hj

- sunny is v sarcastic as a person and he doesn’t even realize iy eithrr but at the same time hes somewhat aware he will get punched if you allow him to say what he wants most the time

He says something so out of pocket and promptly stops verbalizing anything

OKAY THIS ONE IS REALLY STUPID BUT

- Sunny’s knife is his emotional support, he snatched it from Hero & Kel’s kitchen so when Kel takes it from him he realizes that was the missing knife and is like ?? “Why do you have our knife???”

- Mari & Hero would always Kiss injuries better for the younger kid and Sunny is convinced it still worked so Basil does it for Sunny’s eye and when sunny stabbed aubrey he tried to do that ti apologize and aubrey was slike “WHAT THE FUCK??”

- Sunny has a scar where his eye was stabbed

He goes between just with his eye/socket or just a eyepatch too

- has to wear sunscreen just to go outside or else he will just be burned. (It’s good to protect yourself anyways) but Sunny is just so pale and sensitive skin and Mari always ingrained it into him to lather sunscreen to go outside

- Sunny sucked on his thumb for a long time as a kid as a form of self-soothing that his and Mari’s parents - particularly their dad always found annoying and would make him stop.

- Rocking and just hugging himself and rubbing his arms is also more self-soothing Sunny tends to do.

- Sunny has a sensory processing disorder.

- Sunny purrs when sleeping or comfortable.

- Has a maladaptive daydreaming disorder.

- Sunny stares and makes eye contact way too much he doesn’t realize it, especially in bow it’s considered weird.

- Sunny doesn’t blush in romantic situations but mostly when embarrassed in particular. Or when he’s happy.

[allforyoumylovely]

Omg you're taking prompts!! So I always like to imagine sobbe slow dancing. and at first it was sander who asked baby robbe but now, it's robbe who puts on some soft music and makes sander dance with him :') no stress, if you're not inspired by this, it's all chill <3 but if you could write this into something sweet, that would be focking nice

imagining this made me so soft, anon 🥺 even though sander feels a little down, I promise you it's very sweet. here you go <3

An ode to kitchens

Robbe used to think there was something so unsettling about kitchens after twelve am. Maybe this mindset was helped along the way by the nights he got up for a glass of water when he was little and heard the faint sounds of his mama crying behind her bedroom door, or the countless times he came home drunk and depressed, taking off his happy, social day-mask and letting his blank face be washed white by the fridge light.

But then Sander came.

And things were suddenly not so hopeless anymore.

Now kitchens mean bubbling tomato sauce and flour specks on the walls, chuckles when tactile hands reach under shirts and around waists, and teasing flicks of chequered tea towels. Kitchens mean morning grumpiness (Sander), and cheeks rosy from sleep (Robbe) and fond eyes over cups of coffee (both).

When Sander’s parents go on weekend trips, Sander unbuckles Robbe’s belt and peels down his jeans right there in the middle of the kitchen with an urgency that stuns Robbe for a split-second. When there’s a pile of dark blue denim on the floor by the kitchen table, he grabs Robbe by the waist and hoists him up on the sun-warm countertop, his strong and veiny hands on his flanks drawing out small, needy sounds from Robbe’s mouth that he wastes no time lapping up. Robbe’s skin vibrates under Sander’s touch as if it’s programmed to feel ten times as much wherever the slightly calloused pads of Sander’s fingers stroke and caress and worship. And his lips skirt the sharp line of Sander’s jaw as he fumbles with his zipper, before throwing his arms around his neck and melting into his open-mouthed kisses when it gets intense and overwhelming and exceptionally good.

When there’s no more glittery stardust in his field of vision, and the cherry wood of the kitchen chairs and the cream cupboards and the dirty mugs in the sink slowly come back into view, Robbe buries into Sander’s neck and lets out a giggle one moment and then has tears dancing on his lash lines the next when Sander’s warm, familiar cologne envelopes him, and all his cells pinch when he realises for the billionth time how much he loves him.

Having sex in kitchens wasn’t really something Robbe thought he’d ever do; he’d be too shy and self-conscious, feel too out of place. But the Sunday morning it happened for the first time – Sander’s loose smile pressed against his, pillow lines on Robbe’s cheek, their hair still sleep-tousled, heartbeats slowly speeding up – he had never felt more in tune with himself and his surroundings there next to the stove that has baked and roasted and burnt their croques whenever Sander plasters himself to Robbe’s back, nipping distractingly at his earlobe or kissing up the side of his neck, and the kitchen table where they’d just had their breakfast, the top still decorated with green marker lines from Sander’s child hand, and the fridge that holds food for Sander’s family which now also includes Robbe. And it was as if it all said this is the heart of the home, of course it’s a place for lovemaking too.

Sander’s and Robbe’s kitchen have seen every emotion; the sweetness of lapsing into contented silence while doing their schoolwork until one of them releases a soft sigh and the other looks up, realising he has been observed by adoring eyes for the last ten minutes; the rare bursts of anger when Robbe can’t figure out how to talk to his dad; the slight embarrassment when the love of your life is told your childhood stories. And sometimes when they’re in the kitchen talking, just the two of them, Sander reaches for Robbe’s hands and starts swinging them from side to side like a child while telling him about his day. Then Robbe knows Sander is really, really happy.

But their kitchens know tears too. When Sander feels trapped in his head late at night, a bit emo and melancholic, he sinks down on the kitchen floor, rests his back against the cabinets, and tells Robbe in a voice adjusted to the stillness around them, “It’s us against the world.”

Robbe, mirroring Sander’s position opposite him, nods and places his socked feet on top of Sander’s in a small anchoring gesture of affection, reminding him reassuringly, “But the world is not against us.”

And Sander looks at him for a few long moments in the warm orange glow of hallway light pouring in, slowly letting his gaze wander from the curve of his chin to the curls draping over his forehead until his eyes start glistening like wet diamonds. He lets out a little groan and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Jesus Christ, if tears were gold, I’d be a fucking millionaire.”

Quietly, Robbe crosses the small space between them and settles in next to Sander, brushing his hand over his jaw. Sander turns his face slightly towards him and Robbe presses a gentle kiss to the high point of his cheekbone. When Sander rests his head on his shoulder, Robbe threads their fingers together and rakes through his mental box of ways to bring back the light in his baby’s eyes, light like buttery sunrays filtered through green leaves.

“Baby,” he says softly, squeezing his hand. “Let’s do something.”

Sander reluctantly gets up with him, very much content with how they were on the floor, frowning a little when Robbe starts scrolling through his phone.

Soft guitar notes spread in the room as Robbe presses play, and he looks up at Sander, slightly sheepish. It’s usually Sander doing this: turning on some music and pulling Robbe in by the waist, asking him to dance with him in his low, silky voice. Robbe will never forget how his eyes look when they sway together: angel-bright and crinkly at the corners. And it makes him bolder than he feels.

“For the next…” Robbe checks the song, “four minutes, we’re going to slow dance right here the kitchen.” He combs his fingers through Sander’s fringe before gently twining his arms around his neck. Sander’s own instinctively wrap around the small of his back, and Robbe’s heart gives a sigh of relief.

“I know you feel a little lost in the world sometimes,” he says, a light tremble to his words when Sander rests his forehead against his. “But I’m here. And I hope you know that you can always share things with me, no matter how big or small, and that I’ll be right here to listen and to love you.”

Sander pulls him closer until there’s no more air between them. “Sounds like a wedding vow.” There’s a hint of teasing lurking in his tone, and it makes Robbe smile.

“Well, I am gonna marry you, you already know that, so… Might as well prepare.”

And Sander presses their lips together in a kiss brimming with tenderness, and it tugs at something right behind Robbe’s breastbone. His hands glide down Sander’s neck until they lie directly over his pulse points. There’s a rapid fluttering against his palms, and Robbe knows it’s the marriage talk that does it. Because it means they’ll have each other always always always.

They sway to the gentle music, intertwined, wrapped up in each other, body and soul, and continue long after the song is over and the space is quiet again.

“I love you,” Sander mumbles into Robbe’s hair.

There’s basil and lemon balm in the windowsill, a hoodie draped over a kitchen chair, the kettle still warm from the cups of tea they made earlier. Every once in a while, they step on the creaky floorboard.

“I love you too,” Robbe whispers, brushing his lips below Sander’s ear.

For Robbe, kitchens also mean this: slow dancing with your love to nothing but the sound of their breathing against your temple as you help each other turn back into starlight.

Slow it down

Slow it down

Through chaos as it swirls

It's us against the world

Through chaos as it swirls

It's us against the world