#i am simply too eepy

[hauntingrabbits]

I had to bang out a Caspi real quick before I went to bed so here + have some previous Plainview doodles with it yippee

[mushroominaforest]

I wanted to draw an evil Saint so

(Did you earn that halo over your head, Saint?)

They’re so silly. Goofy even.

[francy-sketches]

I finished my stupid fucking final project at the last possible minute I never have to touch that thing again

[astralleywright]

it's a good thing you're just now looking at calamity. because if you thought IMOGEN had it bad, you probably would have gotten a brain tumor seeing all the godawful laerryn takes when it first dropped.

YEAH i got a hint of it in the yt comments I can imagine... especially bc Laerryn rlly is the selfish, blunt, deeply morally ambiguous character ppl claim Imogen is 😭 On top of the compounding force of misogynoir. i'd have an aneurysm

[katyoin-norinyaki]

we met a very slow scout tonight

[somecunttookmyurl]

i'm medicated now and caffeine still does literally nothing because of my aforementioned-several-times-in-the-notes liver enzyme issue that metabolises it too fast

this is not an adhd post. yes adhd contributed to the lack of mental effect from caffeine and in hindsight it is hysterical nobody noticed i have understimulation syndrome, but that isn't solely - or even mostly - why

caffeine has no physical or mental effect on me, even with massive doses of amphetamine, because it LITERALLY noclips through my liver like a bethesda game. like physically.

a fun and fucked up fact about me is that when i was in sixth form (16-18), approximately 10 years prior to being diagnosed ADHD, i drank SO MUCH store brand energy drink that 2 things happened

1) It became such an obvious and well known Thing about me that my tutors started putting "too much red bull can kill you" news articles on the walls. These were not present in rooms I didn't have classes in. It was not a college-wide initiative. That was for me, specifically. Nobody said it but we all knew.

2) Several friends suggested, in all seriousness, I contact the Guinness Book of Records to set a record for "most caffeine consumed with no physical effect" after I had 3x 1 litre bottles in about an hour and my heart rate was still exactly the same and nothing about my demeanour had changed at all. Meanwhile Ryan had 1 bottle and was physically vibrating. Because he's normal.

(I didn't do it because it would require having a medical professional present the whole time to verify and like absolutely nobody with a medical degree is going to do that in good conscience)

[ambreiiigns]

had the weirdest sleeping hours today and woke up at 3am w doubleblack on the brain, as you do, and i feel like the guy from amityville horror being possessed

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

DEAR SPRING, STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your partners. (you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of them.)

word count; 3.8k

contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33

a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever

as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.

he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.

it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.

something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.

you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up. 

and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.

(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you? 

you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)

the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.

with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.

silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.

when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes. 

he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin. 

you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now. 

suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you. 

but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.

”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”

all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.

then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses. 

you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question. 

”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”

a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips. 

he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?” 

now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.

he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog. 

they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.

(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.

once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)

the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.

you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.

your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.

that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you… 

you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.

”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”

a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.

and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away. 

suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes. 

shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms. 

her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.

”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.

”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”

shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.

”you’re such a baby.”

”you know you love me!”

suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin. 

”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour. 

”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”

a moment passes. the calm before the storm.

satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.

”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”

”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”

another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. i feel neglected in this household.”

you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten. 

before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun. 

you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”

he’s silly.

your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”

satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.

before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.

but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this? 

”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”

for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.

”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”

his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning. 

suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.

it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.

they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.

(it feels like high school every day.)

shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.

”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.

”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”

so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.

then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.

”do i have to?”

”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”

another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours. 

and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.

what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd. 

and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.

it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking. 

and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up. 

“are you happy?”

the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks. 

you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.

you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.

“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”

a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.

soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come. 

and you’re sure they feel the same.

the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again — a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins.

and you smile.

(it’s springtime, now. a little warmer. 

here’s to another year together.)

[psychadollics]

I promised sublander hcs...... :3 NSFW!!

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

FLUFF-

Behind closed doors he is the BIGGEST cuddle bug, he'd never ask for them though

The smallest amounts of praise will absolutely make his day

When cuddling he has to have some part of his body being rubbed, favorite spots include, back, hair and chest

He gets clingy while cuddling, leading to him apologizing a lot for squeezing a bit too much

Whiny bitch, but he’s a cute one

Constantly asks shit like “You love me right?” And compliment fishes enough to the point it could classify as a second job, and no matter what his partner can’t help but give into it

Because he is still Homelander, he does lose his shit sometimes (but in this case doesn’t get violent), however after he “calms down” the only words you’ll hear from him for the rest of the night are gentle sobs and “I’m sorry”

NSFW-

(Idfk if this is even a hc) This freak has one hell of a lactation kink

He’d never admit it, but being edged is one of his top 10 favorite activities

He can cum from praise alone

Whatever his partner wants from him, he will do it without question. When he isn’t out being a piece of shit superhero, he is just a small obedient bitch

One of his favorite forms of foreplay is having his dick teased through his suit (his second favorite is through a pair of tight panties)

Sucker for being called a good boy (who can blame him)

He loves when his partners are rough with him, the night won’t be over until he can’t even beg anymore

Likes to get sassy especially in situations where he doesn’t hold power simply because he enjoys the consequences that follow

Big biter

He loves when his partner makes him say degrading (or uplifting) things about himself, yes homelander you are an attention whore (and I love you for it)

Oki im writing this all at 1 am and im eepy but there’s more to come, maybe.

[jals-stuff]

hi girlie!! i see that your requests are open... can i pls request hurt+comfort on orter with a flirty girl reader pretty please??? the lack of orter fics is crazy T_T

(guess who btw :3)

why hello there, dear. I'll guess you are m***i, and I agree, there aren't enough works on him.

Anyway, here's a poorly, quickly written one. It is supposedly proofread but it's 5am and I am very eepy!

Just a flirt!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: none!

“Took you long enough.” 

You blinked a few times as he looked up from his paperwork, and mostly at the report you were holding. You had spent longer than necessary on this paper you’d received from Renatus, correcting rewriting the entire thing as it was just full of mistakes and this jerk was too lazy to give you anything that was decent.

“What, did you miss me that much?” You raised your eyebrows with a slight smile as you chuckled to yourself. Oh yeah, that was funny. Orter didn’t seem to find it amusing, as his expression didn’t really change at all. You made your way to his desk and sat on the chair facing it, handing him Renatus’ report.

He decided not to dwell on that stupid remark of yours and started reading the paper, taking notes on the side and making sure nothing is missing. Meanwhile, you were staring carefully studying his expression, and every single small nod he gave while reading.

“Renatus isn't usually this thorough with reports. Colour me surprised.” He blankly said and slid the report inside one of his drawers. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a proud grin. “Renatus gave me a piece of scrap, so I rewrote it entirely using the information he gave me.” you stated, crossing your arms as you looked at him, visibly waiting for some praise.

He stared blankly for a second and sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well done, (Y/N). Very good work.” Though he was praising you, his expression didn't change that much and you could just feel how exhausting it was for him to give compliments.

“Mm, mm. That's right. I’m always good with my work when I know you'll review it…” You trailed off, looking at him with a satisfied smile and a small wink. He raised both eyebrows at your obvious flirting and chose not to comment on it, but you weren't done anyway.

“Anyway, I think I deserve more than just a little compliment! I rewrote the entire thing, you know?” You playfully pouted, putting on a dramatically sad, puppy eyes expression for him. Orter pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh; he knew you wouldn't back down anyway.

“That was amazing work, (Y/N). Rarely have I ever seen a report written with such incredible finesse and precision.” He said blankly again, and it was clear he didn't mean it that much, although there was a part of truth in his words that he refused to admit, even to himself.

“Thank you, thank you.” You chuckled, knowing very well that he was exaggerating, but seeing as he played along, you decided to push your luck a little. “So what, am I getting a reward for all this hard work?”

Even if his expression didn't change, you could read him like he was an open book. “Was the praise not enough?” was probably what he thought at this point. You could've stopped there and brushed it off as a joke but your ego had been flattered just enough to make you bolder.

“How ‘bout… a little kiss? Just on the cheek! Like mwwwah!” you mimicked a kiss while pointing at your cheek and were absolutely convinced that your imitation was flawless. Of course, you were partially joking, and assumed he would just sigh and dismiss your comment, but no such luck.

“I have better things to do than to entertain your delusional little fantasies.” He simply spoke and grabbed his pen again to fill out some of his paperwork. Ouch. But that was his whole personality anyway, of course he wouldn't give you a little kiss, you already knew that, but hearing him say it this way tugged just a tiny bit at your heartstrings.

“No fun.” You sighed and crossed your arms on top of his desk before nesting your chin in-between them. “I am being highly underappreciated here.” You whined dramatically, and then regained your usual smug expression. “That's okay though, you're still my favourite.”

You could tell you were slowly but surely getting on his nerves, and it was kind of amusing to see him have to close his eyes and take a deep breath before focusing on his tasks again. He was already being very patient by allowing you to laze around in his office when you had free time, but he was gradually starting to regret this decision.

You were already done with your work for today, and sat in Orter’s office simply to enjoy his company. He knew, and for some reason he tolerated your presence as long as you didn't disturb him too much. 

Was any of your flirting serious? Of course it was. You genuinely liked him! You had been blessed with a sweet voice and a pretty face, and most of your colleagues at the Bureau would've dreamt of being in his place right now. He was very much aware of that, but it seemed off to him.

Even though your coworkers kept flirting around with you and quite literally trying to slide in your pants, you had denied every single one of them. From nameless staff members to the Flame Cane, none of them had your attention except Orter, and all of your flirting surely showed it… or so you thought. Things were awfully different in his mind.

Now, you were just looking at him and his paperwork, fiddling with some trinkets on his desk. Being in the same room as him was almost enough for you, but you kept feeling this physical need to flirt with him, to demonstrate how much you liked him, and you would've thought he had a clue, as you kept making it painfully obvious.

His eyes travelled to your hands as he put one of his papers down. “Stop it.” He ordered, and you immediately let go of the trinket you were toying with in a deep sigh now.

“But I’m bored.” You mumbled, and he put down his pen, his hands now joined on top of his desk. He looked at you for a bit, your almost childish behaviour was starting to irritate him slightly.

“Then leave.” He raised his head slightly as he took off his glasses to wipe them. “Nobody asked you to sit here and disturb my work with your… immature antics.” Ouch, another one, but at this point, you were used to his spiky remarks and simply shrugged it off.

“Aww, but I'll miss you if I leave, you know~?” Again with the puppy eyes, making your expression unnecessarily dramatic again even though you meant every single word you said; but saying it in a completely blank tone would embarrass you way too much. “And I know you'll miss me too, hehe.” You playfully added.

He put his glasses back on and gave you a very stern look and raised an eyebrow very slightly. “Surely, there are other victims that await your attention somewhere else. Why not pay them a visit instead of constantly disrupting my focus?”

He sure was in a foul mood today, wasn't he? But his comment felt like a sharp blade into your stomach and you just needed an explanation for it. “What is that supposed to mean?” Your flirtatious demeanour was temporarily suspended as you weren't quite sure what you'd just heard.

“Are you already done seducing your other colleagues? Must I suffer your incessant flirtations in their place now?” He asked again, and it didn't sound like he was being sarcastic at all, but at least you now knew.

“Orter… are you jealous?” You asked, and your tone was dead serious. It was inimaginable that he could ever feel jealous about something so petty— something you hadn't even done in the first place.

He took a deep breath. “Nonsense. This is wishful thinking; I am merely aggravated by your attempts to turn me into one of these loyal… dogs you have around at the Bureau.” he scoffed, and you could tell he was not pleased with your behaviour.

“...what?” was all you could utter, as you looked at him in disbelief. “You don't know how wrong you are about this, clearly.” You didn't want to be rude to him even though he really deserved it right now, but you seemed to be testing each other's patience.

“How wrong could I be? These people are head over heels for you. Surely, this doesn't happen without a push.” He firmly stated, and again, he was wrong. “Whatever have I done for you to think I’ll be one of them?”

You had always hated arguments, but having one with Orter was the worst that had happened in a while. He was fully convinced that you were but a flirt, a temptress that relished in having people crawl at her feet… but that wasn't it, and these people weren't exactly crawling either.

“How can you say such a thing?” You looked at him in heavy disappointment. “How could you think such a thing, after all of… this?” After all of the obvious flirting you gave him, the endless remarks about how you miss him when he isn't around or your constant winking.

He was just staring in religious silence, thinking you'd give up and simply admit your faults so he could go back to work without any disturbance, but he was once again very wrong, and you needed to justify yourself. 

“Why would I flirt with anyone other than you at the Bureau?” you asked, standing up from your chair and placing both hands on the desk in front of him, and he simply adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Because that's who you are, it would seem.”

You sat back in defeat, looking at him, completely dumbfounded. Every word you wanted to say ended up getting swallowed in the whirlpool of emotions you were feeling, and you couldn't do anything else than stare at him. You could physically feel your heartstrings being pulled now and it was disturbingly painful.

“Is…” you swallowed your emotions down before trying again. “Is that really what you think? That I'm just the type of girl to flirt around and just… sleep well afterwards?” Your tone made it obvious that you were hurt, and it didn't go unnoticed. 

But he was convinced. Convinced that your flirting was not a rare occurrence, that it extended beyond the limits of his office, that surely you had already done it before and he was probably just one of those targets you'd use to boost your self-esteem. Even though he was upset with you, his goal wasn't to hurt you, and he decided to avoid your question, not knowing what to answer anyway.

“I don't even know why you're trying to justify yourself that hard.” He finally sighed and grabbed his pen again, which was his way of telling you that this conversation was over and you had to leave; but you wouldn't let go just yet, not before you had said your piece. 

“Because it's you we're talking about.” You blurted out, once again flabbergasted by how dense a man could be. “How straightforward do I have to be for you to understand? Have I not been vigorously flirting with you?” You asked loudly, almost laughing nervously.

“You sure have, but—”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I am into you? That I want to spend time with you?” Oh, you had no will to listen to his flawed reasoning and you just couldn't take it anymore. You were trying your best not to tear up in front of him already, and any more of his baseless accusations surely would make a sufficient push to make you cry.

“I never said you didn't d—”

“Then why are you so blind to my feelings?” You interrupted again, but this time way calmer. You sat back, weakly plopping down on your chair and staring down at his desk for no apparent reason. He didn't really say anything. In fact, he was processing the information you had just given him.

You felt terribly awkward after your half confession, and that clumsy part of your personality couldn't take the silence anymore. “How can someone that dense be in charge of the Magical Power administration..?” 

Were you jesting? Probably. But what else could you do anyway? Your main goal was to keep your composure and hold your tears back, at least until you were out of his line of sight. His eyes were on you, they had been the whole time, but you couldn't muster the courage to look at him anymore.

“May I speak now?” He asked, first of all wanting to make sure you wouldn't interrupt him anymore, and only now did it occur to you, how rude you had been these last few minutes. You gave a nod and he sighed deeply, joining his hands against his desk and looking at you with a bit of a softer expression.

“I never said you haven't been straightforward.” He started, and now that you were a bit calmer than before, you could feel your shame grow at his words. “I never said you didn't do all these things you talked about so… fervently. I am merely saying that I do not believe you are exclusively trying to seduce me.”

You sighed again, and he braced himself for another rant but instead of justifying yourself again, you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep breath. Looking all sad and defeated wasn't like you at all, and you needed to prove yourself to this dense, silly, overworked man.

“I don’t get it. Why does the fact that I supposedly am flirting with other people bother you?” You decided to ask, your arms crossed over your chest as you were now back to studying his expression and tone. If you were going to cry, so be it, but you wouldn't go down without a fight, especially for him.

He takes a minute to think, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What bothers me is the way you act with those people, and how you pretend to be innocent afterwards.” You gave him a confused look and he decided to develop. “The way you politely smile at them and make small talk. You're almost inviting them.” He said that while keeping his straight face and cold glare, completely serious.

Oh. Oh. 

“So you are jealous.” You couldn't help but smile a little and finally look up at him, only to be met by an utterly confused Orter, ready to absolutely deny your claim.

“I am not jealous, (Y/N).”

“What if I stopped talking to all of them then, would it make things a little better?” You offered, suppressing a smile and pretending to act serious. He seemed to think for another minute again and leaned back into his chair.

“Yes, I believe it would.”

Ah, you couldn’t take it anymore and just burst out laughing; he didn’t seem to like it very much but it was impossible to resist. You just had to make sure again, and so, you slowly regained your composure and caught your breath, then exhaled deeply. “So, let me get this straight…” you started, and he listened. “What upsets you is the fact that I am supposedly flirting with other people, and if I didn’t smile at them or made small talk, you wouldn’t mind my flirting?”

You did not miss that sigh of relief. He adjusted his glasses again and crossed his legs, looking at you very seriously. “I am glad to know that you have ears.” He said blankly, his expression still so cold as his eyes landed on yours again. “Are you making fun of me now?” His voice sounded slightly irritated and you had to calm yourself down again.

“No, not at all. But you just admitted to being jealous so… I win.” You could feel all of your earlier worries dissipating. He wasn't denying it either, instead looking like he was thinking about your reasoning; you had him cornered now. 

And the best part about all of this is that he has no clue what he just signed up for.

[mysilaan]

What’s sleeping with the Touchstarved LIs like? Nothing sexual. Just. Sleeping lol eepy pals

I like imagining Ais moving in his sleep BUT you only get to notice that once you wake up lol (he’s curled up in the corner of your bed fast asleep with the blanket at his feet) ALSO BIG BUT!!!!! That’s only if he’s not cuddling you to sleep (smth he does often). Only then will he sleep sound and motionless. He doesn’t give a shit if his arm falls asleep. GIVE HIM CUDDLES.

Sleeping with Leander is just with him standing in the corner of the room. Unblinking. Covered in the shadows. He Does Not Sleep. He’s normal though, I swear :-) :-) jk I love to have this man.

HELLO ANON

Hope you’re good! I love this request… I don’t know if Ais sleeps actually… But if he does I’m sure he’s a light sleeper. For Leander that guy might as well be dying from lack of sleep LMAO

For the other LIs… Kuras definitely doesn’t sleep, I think Mhin is pretty paranoid so I’m imagining they have a lot of nightmares, or insomnia… For Vere, idk why but he gives off the vibe of the heavy sleeper: he’s 100% taking all the place in the bed and is impossible to wake up against his will… Well, basically a cat.

BUT I did write a little something about Ais (and a small part about Leander) because your ideas were funny to write, I had to…

After blood, sweat and tears it's finally here... And I can't not thank @aiscapades for helping me edit the text (most of the prettiest sentences are their...) if you ever write something I'll definitely devour it because you sublimed this headcanon...

Enjoy!! 🫶

TOUCHSTARVED HEADCANON🍒

Ais and Leander centered

⭐

The ambiance at the Wet Wick that night was quite festive, as it almost always was, but it was particularly noisy this time. The barman didn’t have a second to rest; every minute, someone went to the bar to order another drink. You were seated with Leander and Ais in a corner of the tavern, the three of you sharing a drink or several... The mood between you was light. Leander and Ais were lightheartedly sharing some death threats as usual, while you were listening to them, a grin on your face. You were pretty wasted because of all the drinks Leander suggested you try, while Ais was giving you a disapproving glance.  It felt kind of awkward to be the only drunk one around the table you thought while partially listening to whatever they were saying. You didn’t like being treated like an idiot, so you stopped the boys in one of their quarrels by slamming your hand in the center of the table. “Why am I the only one who can’t hold my drink here? I find it pretty unfair. Why did you make me drink so much?” Ais raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s about how badly you hold your drink, but much more because of how many of those weird drinks you got from Leander.” That remark made you pretty upset, and Leander’s laughter turned your cheeks more red than they already were. “I can’t refuse a challenge!” “Yeah, that’s the problem,” Ais added. Leander leaned over the table to get his face closer to yours. “You know, I’m pretty impressed you’re still alive with all that you drank.” You didn’t know if he was serious or not. The smile on his face could be a hint of sarcasm or genuine amazement… You were too drunk to guess which one it was anyway, so you started joking. “Oh babe… You know it’s hard to get rid of me.” “Really…?” Leander answered with a smirk on his face. The tension between the two of you started getting heavier… Did he want to make out with you or kill you? You had no idea, and you would never be able to know as Ais pulled Leander back on his chair by the collar of his jacket. “If you want to mate so badly, the room’s upstairs.” “We’re not animals,” you simply said. “Are you, Sparrow?” He grinned widely, proud of his teasing. “Har har. Very funny. I already told you to stop calling me that!” “Make me.” His lips were pulled back in a wide grin, his amusement giving a clear view of his fangs.

A sudden thought that you couldn’t restrain, popped in your head. Your alcoholised mind was making it hard for you to process any coherent thought, so you simply stood up and looked straight in Ais’ eyes. “Come.” You turned your head toward Leander, and stared at him in a weird way for a few seconds as if you wanted to tell him something by telepathy. But you didn't add any further clarification. Instead, you stood up from the table and made your way up the tavern stairs. “What the fuck…" Ais breathed, dumbfounded.  The two boys sat in silence for a while, gazes locked across the table, before Ais got up and joined you upstairs. The place was barely lit by a single candle in the corner of the room. Ais closed the door behind him before asking: “What’s wrong with you?” You took him by the shoulders to make him sit on your bed… But as strong as he was, there wasn't much you could do to actually make him do that. “Please, sit.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t receive orders.” Though, when you tried to push him on your bed once again, he did sit. You were now face to face. His towering height usually made it hard for you to make eye contact, but you could do it effortlessly now. You climbed on the bed yourself, placing your knees at both extremities of his body, now placing yourself over him. You took his face between your hands and looked at it in detail from beneath you. He had a captivating red gaze, surrounded by pretty, long eyelashes. Long, dark strands of hair cut across his face, bisecting it just along his nose, but you still knew the angles of his features well. From the scar on his left eyebrow to his defined jawline, you looked at everything there was to see on his face. “Getting an eyeful, Sparrow?” You reddened. Sitting here next to him, you only now realized just how heavy your body felt from all those drinks. You swayed forward some, accidentally nudging Ais, which just sent him further down to the bed. Your face found a spot against his neck, and you inhaled a breath. He smelled good: his scent was a mix of cigarette, what seems to be some cologne and a bit of all the alcohol he drank earlier. Your heart started beating faster and you prayed for him not to notice. He couldn’t know you had feelings for him. It’s at this moment that his hands tensed on your shoulders, in an attempt to pull you back.

“Hey, get off. You’re clearly drunk.” But you didn't answer, nor did you move. He held firm, raising his voice a bit as he said once more, "Sparrow." What should've been an inquisitive prompt was instead flattened into a curt demand for a response.  He started to maneuver you onto your back, intending to just let you fall gently into the mattress, but he froze mid-action.  "You can't be serious..." he muttered, eyes wide.  You were sound asleep, still clinging to his arm. Ais sighed out of frustration one more time, asking himself what to do. But he didn’t think about it much longer. “Well… Let’s just stay here for tonight.” He put himself under the sheets, covering you with them at the same time.

⭐

You were cold. Goosebumps lined the flesh of your body. You slowly woke up, searching for your blanket. When you finally felt its fabric under your fingers, you grabbed it to cover yourself, but a stronger pull on the other edge of it almost tore your arm apart (once again…). You sat up on your bed with a start and gasped when you saw who was at the other edge. “What the… Ais?” What was he doing in your bed? Your first move was to look at how you were dressed, and when you noticed that you still had on the clothes you wore yesterday, you let out a relieved sigh. Ais got immediately woken up when you spoke and looked at you with annoyance. “Keep it down, would you?” “Hey! You’re the one in my room, stealing my blanket. What are you doing here?” But instead of answering, his head snapped toward something in the middle of the room. It was still dark outside, so it was hard for you to see what got his attention. “What is it?!” you asked, panicked. When your eyes finally adapted to the bit of light the moon was offering, a scream escaped from your mouth. “What the fuck?!” Leander was there, sat on a chair, feet laid on the low table of your bedroom. His arms were crossed and he was simply looking at the two of you from where he was, unblinking. “Is he… sleeping with his eyes open?” you asked Ais. But he didn’t answer. Leander did. “No, I’m awake.” He surprised you once more, and you let out another brief, startled scream. “Since when are you here?!” “Oh. Four hours maybe?” Your jaw dropped. How could he answer that with such casualness? “What… When do you sleep?” Leander got up from his chair and opened the door with a smile. “I don’t.” He left you completely agape. It wasn’t the first time Leander was giving off such strange vibes, but the more you got to know him, the weirder he was to you. When you turned toward Ais to ask him if what happened was a normal thing from Leander, you noticed he disappeared too. “Well…” You couldn’t find it in you to get back to sleep after what happened, and you stayed awake until you could see the sun rise. You told yourself that maybe you should talk to Kuras about what just happened; he was the most ‘normal’ one of this weird group, and you were going to need something for your hangover anyway… You’ll remember to lock your door next time.

[quantumshade]

waters of mars is to ten what hell bent is to twelve

i have a hot take but idk if you guys are ready for it

[vampirecatprince]

So apparently there was a post going around that I can't find now that was asking people how they visually view Sleep? And I really wanted to chip in, because I haven't seen anyone with quite the same interpretation as me?

So first of all, I am very much a huge cosmic for horror fan, to the point where the incomprehensibility and the inability to understand what you are looking at is incredibly integral to how I headcanon Sleep. So... I don't interpret Sleep as really having a physical form that humans could comprehend? I don't even think that Sleep is really able to have a form that it's vessels could directly look at and see easily outside of dreams. Maybe it's different light wavelengths or Sleep operates on some 4-D (or even higher) plane- but they're literally impossible to depict in 3-D. I also think that to some extent it would be psychologically damaging to be able to fully take in the extent of the scale of Sleep?

All that said, I do think that Sleep takes on various forms in their vessels' dreams, but it varies wildly between the Eepies. The one exception is the moon. They've all seen Sleep as the moon in their dreams and sometimes in the moon while awake.

Vessel regularly sees Sleep in his dreams, but doesn't feel much of their presence when awake. Sleep shows up in his dreams as a tendril coming from a shadowy void or, occasionally, a petite woman with eyes but no face. He tends to use feminine pronouns as a result and sometimes joking refers to Sleep as his Godmother. (I hc Vessel a hypersomniac due to his connection with Sleep btw. Back when the relationship between him and Sleep was very new he used to have a tendency to think Sleep was messing with his thoughts when he was just heavily sleep deprived and Dealing With Some Shit.) He is the most likely to actually hear things from Sleep while awake, usually manifesting as invasive thoughts.

ii has always felt Sleep more than seen them, like a heartbeat or a metronome- and he's more likely to use it to keep time during his performances than a click track. It's not constant- but it's always there during rituals. He doesn't dream easily or remember his dreams when he does, but the few times he does remember Sleep? He's always in the middle of a misty fen and they've always shown up as a deer.

iii sees Sleep everywhere. It's like a ghosting of a shadow where there shouldn't be one or a strange shimmer in the air at the end of the aisle while grocery shopping. (I hc iii as being very spiritually sensitive and a lil bit of an accidental medium, incidentally.) Sleep doesn't actually show up in his dreams too often as a result but when they do it's always simply as a voice. No form, no body, just a warm and comforting voice that reminds iii of his late grandfather.

iv still hasn't seen or felt Sleep in the same way ii and iii have, but it doesn't bother him that much. (Yet.) He'll sometimes will get the feeling of another person entering the room when he's alone, but that's really it. He does ,however, have dreams of Sleep as a massive, unending, unknowable beast, but he's never scared when they appear.

[thequibblah]

monday snippet tag

thank you for the tag @clare-with-no-i! as it is approaching the end of monday (per my bedtime) and i am too eepy to even think who hasn't been tagged in this, i will simply not do it ❣️

here follows the snippet, which this tag forced me to write (everyone say thank u clare). it is spoilery. if you click and you haven't read 51/52, i will haunt you.

no i will haunt you for real!!

When they left Weddle’s classroom Lily had no destination in mind. No physical one, anyway; she hardly could have come up with something coherent. Her head was full up with what might come next. It had been impossible to find a moment alone all day, and now that she had it — walking in charged silence side by side with James — she wanted suddenly to be done with walking, to already be at whatever private place so that they could continue yesterday’s conversation. She wanted, she wanted, she wanted. But most of all she wanted not to be interrupted. Every secret place in the castle seemed in that instant to either be suggestive to the point of embarrassment, or simply not secret enough. “Fancy a walk outside?” she said. He slanted a smile at her. “Lead on, then.”

[ananxiousgenz]

Part 3 OF THE HADESTOWN FLASH FIC

for anyone who is actually reading these in order: they are not in any real kind of order. I am simply writing as the inspiration comes to me so the scenes are all over the fuckin place. also if this isn't as good as the prior parts, i apologize, i am eepy and my brain isnt working very well

@smidgen-of-hotboy and @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl psppsps come get your juice (@urjover and @one-joe-spoopy and @waters-and-the-wilde you guys can come read this too!!)

part 1 and 2 are on my account somewhere

the world straighted up and took notice the day peter nureyev walked into that bar.

well, maybe not the world.

but fate certainly did. and so did juno steel. and maybe that's close enough.

it was another day like they had all been in that eternal winter: windy, overcast, and grey, with a kind of chill that doesn't nip as much as sink its fangs into your bones and never let go. he'd come into the bar for the same reason everyone else had, juno assumed, trying to get out of the wind and cold and warm up a little. but there was no warmth to be found here. no true relief from the constant cold that had been the norm for years.

spring had disappeared. and the world had never really quite recovered from its loss.

juno wasn't discouraged, though. he knew there had to be a way to fix it, and then it came to him while he was stacking crates out behind the bar a few days ago. a simple song popped into his head, and when he sang it. oh, when he sang it. it was like spring with all of its warmth and goodness and chaos had come back into the world for just a moment. and then the moment was over, and juno left with the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, he could fix things. the song needed work, certainly, but even as it was, it could fix a lot.

not everything, but a lot. he knew deep down some things could simply never be fixed.

he was musing about how to continue the song while wiping down one of the bar tables that seemed to be perpetually sticky with old beer and fading finish when the door creaked open, announcing a new customer. the work never stopped here, did it? no matter, he'd get to them in a minute when he was finished with this table and then he'd-

oh.

he glanced up at the new customer and suddenly found himself rooted to the spot, heart pounding and face flushed.

he was.... he was.........

wow.

this new customer was quite possibly the most stunning man juno had ever seen. his hair was mussed from the wind outside and his face was flushed with cold. standing tall and lean in an oversized traveling coat, features sharp and clever as he spoke with juno's coworker at the bar. a streak of dirt rested on his cheek just below his wire rimmed glasses as he wriggled his warm leather gloves off.

he was clearly tired. everyone was. hard times do that to a people. but this man wore the exhaustion like a fine diamond bracelet, made for him in a way that complimented his countenance perfectly.

he was beautiful.

and that made him dangerous.

not that juno cared. he was quite fond of danger.

the man finally sat down at a table and sighed deeply, propping his head up on his hand as he waited for the drink he ordered. juno simply kept staring. he wasn't quite sure what to do next outside of stare. a thousand words were flooding his brain and all of them were stuck in his throat.

rita, his coworker, noticed. "you really wanna talk to him, dontcha boss?"

juno could only nod. dammit, why couldn't he say anything??

"then go DO it, boss!! whataya waitin' for?"

he opened his mouth to make some snappy remark, but nothing came out, so he just closed his mouth and nodded.

"oh, and mista steel?"

"yes, rita?"

"don't come on too strong, okay? I know you get a little excited about meetin' pretty people sometimes-"

"oh gods, rita, that was one time!!"

"well, it still cost lil old rita about a week's wages to replace the whiskey bottles you shattered from bein' so clumsy, so don't do it again!"

juno rolled his eyes and grabbed the stranger's drink to set down on his table. it was only a few steps to move, but somehow it felt like crossing mountains and rivers. juno's hands were shaking by the time he finally reached the man's side.

"ah, thank you, darling."

gods. even his voice was stunning. low and even and smooth as glass.

juno didn't even realize he was staring again until the man looked at him, slight concern etched onto his features. "are you alright? do you need something from me? I'm quite sure I paid at the bar but if you're looking for a tip-"

"come home with me." the words were out of juno's mouth before he could even think about them.

the man's eyebrows shot up and juno felt his face redden. he was quiet for a moment before responding. "you want me to go home with you?"

"yes."

"i don't even know who you are."

"i'm juno. i'm going to marry you."

there was another pause and internally, juno cringed. the one chance he gets to talk to someone attractive and he can't even act like a normal human being. of course it would be like this.

the man studied him for a moment before leaning back towards the bar to look at rita, who had been studying this interaction with all the curiosity of a child watching rabbits in the forest. "is he always like this?"

rita nodded vigorously. "absolutely, mista stranger-guy."

the man nodded thoughtfully before turning back to face juno. "i'm peter. peter nureyev."

[owlf45]

are you working with the mosquitos again? if so can we hear about them? (i liked your last mosquito talks)

yes, I am. it's been a bit chaotic at the lab (as per usual though). for the past two years the head of my lab has been adding more and more genetically modified lines that we have to upkeep. it got so bad that we were taking care of close to 300 lines at some point. my manager kept asking him to remove lines every weekly meeting, and he would get rid of 2 and add like 12 more. (for context, when I started working there, there were only about 120 lines. 150 lines? something very low.)

well, we nearly lost a very important line that we've been writing a paper on for the past... four years? we've had so many crises though that I just deadpan told my manager at some point, "We can't work any faster or harder. We've tried hiring more people, we've tried new schedules, we've tried everything. The problem is the number of lines, not us. It's just going to keep happening."

When I say we 'lost' the line too, it's not that the line died. Because of the amount of lines we have, we've been relying on self-crossing our experiments. This means rather than screening all 300 lines during the larvae stage for positive lines and then crossing them with the wild type, we've simply hatched them, let whatever hatched mate, take the egg paper they've laid on, and then hatch those egg papers six months later. (With proper storage in a cool chamber, that's as long as the egg papers can last.) However, for specific lines that are sex-linked, the genetic mutations only appear in a percentage of the offspring. The more and more those populations self-cross, the lower that percentage gets. So technically, we had the genetically modified line, except that none were positive for the specific genetic mutation. Whoops!

We've rescued the line (thankfully), but it's worrying. My manager told my boss what happened and he finally decided "oh shit, maybe I should actually listen for once". Anyway, he got rid of like 20 lines we've never used once in the decade we've taken care of them. Also, once this paper is published, we'll be able to condense like 10 different lines into one line.

Other than workplace drama, I'm not sure I have very many updates. i grow to love the little bastards a teeny more all the time. I've had to kill quite a few lately though because the cages are a little warped so they keep trying to worm their way out of the mesh.

oh, did you know that if you vacuum mosquitos right after bloodfeeding them, they can explode? crazy. (I say vacuum, I mean one of those little hand-held ones we use to transport mosquitoes from cage to cage.) also when its cold they get very eepy, so sometimes we put them in the fridge for 15-20 minutes instead of vacuuming them so they wont. yknow. explode when we try to move them.