#i'll think about other names and maybe something else will crop up

[dragonbleps]

....how different from the original can an AU of a character be. asking for a me

[headspace-hotel]

I have an essay brewing in my head constantly about lawns. Which, well, unsurprising, since I post about how I hate lawns all the time, but I think the "lawn" and "landscaping" centered way of thinking about Places Outside is a Bigger Thing that Connects to Other Things

(What isn't? Having ideas about concepts is always like this.)

I will introduce my ideas by a situation where they apply: Sometimes life-forms mimic other life forms. One form of mimicry is called Vavilovian mimicry, where weed species in crops grown by humans evolve over time to be more similar to the crops.

Vavilovian mimicry basically helps weeds survive because the weeds are adapted to the care-taking regimen of the crops, and because the human caretakers of the crop can have a hard time telling them apart, which means they might say "Ehh...I'll wait until it grows up so I can be sure I'm not pulling up my crop."

I think there's something similar at work among flower gardens and landscaping...but it's different.

Regular people don't know the name of every plant that might possibly grow in their flower beds, and they often pull up plants they don't know just because they don't know them. They sometimes say they pull up a plant that "looks weedy" or "looks like a weed."

I think to myself...what does "weedy" look like?

This question collided unexpectedly in my brain with an insight I had about invasive species that I could not explain.

I have to get rid of a lot of Callery pear, wintercreeper, honeysuckle, burningbush, privet, English ivy, and other plants that are invasive where I live. And strangely- many invasive plants look similar in ways they don't share with very many native species. They tend to have small, round or squat, glossy leaves, and they tend to have a very dense growth habit.

I can think of several possible explanations: Maybe these species thrive in North America today because of the loss of controlled burning, but their characteristics look so distinct next to native species because they relate to things that would make a species fire-intolerant? This doesn't seem quite right, since it doesn't predict level of fire-adaptedness in native species.

Another explanation is better: they were selected for these traits by humans for their usefulness in landscaping. Dense growth habit would be useful for creating hedges or ground covers. This is why many invasives were originally planted, right? And small leaves might feel or be perceived as less "messy" when they fall.

But I think this is a clue to something else going on. What does "weedy" look like?

Some plants go on one side of "weeds vs. flowers" and some on the other, and it's almost totally arbitrary...so how do gardeners make the call so decisively?

I think about the commonest "landscaping" plants- Knock Out roses, hostas, petunias, begonias, boxwoods and so on- they share a lot of the characteristics mentioned above. Shiny or at least smooth, typically small and squat leaves, dense and compact growth habit.

Then I think about some of the commonest and most important "weedy" native wildflowers, such as goldenrods, asters, milkweeds, Joe-Pye weed, ironweed, sunflower. They all differ from the above in at least one striking way. Mostly, they have hairy leaves and stems, long and thin leaves, and a tendency to grow up tall before blooming. Milkweed has smooth leaves, but its leaves are long and very big. Hmm...

And I think I can guess where this is coming from.

Landscaping and garden designs often look like this

See how the plants are drawn and arranged to cover a space in two dimensions, mostly not overlapping with each other? This is very easy to plan and design. And those common landscaping plants I mentioned—hostas, Knock Out roses, boxwoods, and so on—are very good at acting just like a two-dimensional representation of them does. Just look, you can see them:

Now look at those important native wildflowers I mentioned:

Goldenrod

Ironweed

Milkweed

These guys don't fill much space in a horizontal plane, they go straight up. They don't exclude other plants from very much space either. Plants could grow under them and among them. So they're not very good for "filling up" space, and their opener, lankier, less dense shape doesn't do a good job at blocking other plants from growing.

In a garden of North American prairie- or meadow-adapted plants, the plants wouldn't exclude each other and stay within their designated spots because they're evolved to intermix with a great variety of plants.

"Separateness" is a big part of the typical "landscape" aesthetic. These plants are very neatly separate from each other. This is what looks "neat" and well-kept to us...the opposite of "weedy."

This could mean our garden and flower beds are affected by a selective pressure a lot like the Vavilovian mimicry situation. But instead of weeds being selected to look like intentionally grown plants, the intentionally grown plants are being selected to look different from weeds.

The subtle difference makes perfect sense. In a field, the rule is "leave the plant there if you're unsure" because that's your food. In a flower bed, the rule is "get rid of the plant if you're unsure" because having weeds is more aesthetically unacceptable than having blank space.

The point is: Ecology needs to be a big part of gardening and landscaping, because you are DOING ecology. Even if you don't know the evolutionary principles, you're acting them out.

Just like the ineffable preferences of female birds give the males weird elaborate display structures, ineffable aesthetic "senses" that govern our "built" world slowly turn it into something weird.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

for @thissortofsorcery, who wanted more Billy with a belly button piercing (hehe) and inspired by @robthegoodfellow's amazing tags!!

nsfw

The first time he sees it, it's on accident, and he's not entire sure what he sees.

He's about six beers and two shots deep, so his eyes aren't really focusing as he catches a glimpse of Hargrove's stomach, perfectly toned because he's a fucking asshole, but the peek of silver around his belly button had caught Steve's wandering eye.

They're in Tommy's backyard with a dozen of other people he can't remember the names of, but Billy had invited him so he had gone, and Tommy had glared at him the entire night but also hadn't approached him because the guy clearly doesn't care enough. Which, admittedly, hurts Steve because they had been friends for forever, but not anymore.

But, it's whatever. Hargrove has taken a liking to him and Steve's not about to pass up on someone he can have decent conversations with - even if the guy irritates him to no end.

And, apparently, intrigues him.

Billy had raised his arms in a stretch once he stood up from his chair by the campfire, groaning out a soft sound as Steve had eyed him from above the rim of his cup, the beer catching in his throat as he saw the quick reflection of something shiny on Billy's belly button.

There was no way, right? He's seen plenty of girls with their belly buttons pierced. It was a girl piercing. No guy he's ever known has ever had one.

Until Billy, it seems.

And Steve, as he coughs up a lung and tries to soothe the burn with more beer, thinks back to the times where Billy wore his shirt unbuttoned almost down to his navel, and he'd never seen them before. He's met up with Billy after his shift at the pool, when he wore his cropped Everlast shirt, and there hadn't been anything there except a dark blond happy trail.

It has to be new. Recent.

"You good, princess?" Billy asks him suddenly, his brows furrowed.

His eyes watery from coughing, Steve nods and waves him off, watching the blond roll his eyes and go back inside for another drink.

There's no way, right? 🖤 It's been a week and Steve can't stop thinking about it.

He has to make sure he wasn't just seeing anything or else it'll eat him alive.

So, he calls up Billy that weekend, asking, "You wanna come over for a swim? Maybe some beers, too?"

"I worked at the pool all day, the last thing I want is to fuckin' swim, Harrington. How about we just have some beers? Maybe take them over to Heather's?" Billy offered cooly, like he wasn't ruining Steve's perfectly laid out plans.

Pursing his lips, Steve covered up his indignant huff by palming the bottom of his phone before transferring it to his other ear, saying, "Yeah, I suppose we could."

Because he was a sucker for Billy. He couldn't help it.

"I'll pick you up in twenty, be ready."

The line went dead and Steve huffed again.

🖤

A couple days later, he's finally got Billy at his house, but his parents are home. Not that they're going to ruin his plans or anything, but his parents actually enjoy Billy's company, so they ask him to stay for dinner and who is Billy to decline such a generous offer?

His dad's barbecuing in the back and he and Billy are chatting about something regarding sports while Steve helps his mom prepare the table. He had immediately noticed Billy's new shirt when the guy arrived, a soft light green t-shirt, tightly fitted - and if Steve could only get a damn glance at his stomach, he might be able to see the shape of it through the fabric.

It's almost comical how much stuff gets in the way: Billy's standing behind the barbecue, his dad is in front of him when they come in with food, his mother passes his father the salad bowl just as Billy goes to sit at the table.

He kinda wants to scream.

And again, Billy asks him, "Everything alright, Steve?" Because he's Steve in front of his parents.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he smiles tightly, their eyes locking for a moment, and there's something shining in Billy's blue eyes.

After dinner, when they've had their full and it's time for Billy to go, he watches the blond pat his stomach and keep his hand there as he stands, thanking the Harringtons for the meal.

Steve manages another tight smile as his parents tell Billy to come back soon.

🖤

A couple guys they know from school are playing basketball at the park when he and Billy drive by a couple days later, and Billy glances over at him with a grin, saying, "Wanna join them?"

Steve stares at him for a moment before flicking his gaze over to the guys on the court, noticing that they're shirts vs skins. And knowing Billy, he'll want to take off his shirt.

Oh, yeah. This will work.

"Sure," he hums, playing it cool.

They park and head over, standing on the sidelines until Patrick stops dribbling the ball and asks them, "You two come to join?"

"Yeah, thought maybe you'd want some actual competition, McKinney," Billy smirks, grinning when Jason gives him a glare for his smart mouth.

"Alright," Patrick nods with a smile, "Harrington, you're skins."

Steve feels his shoulders drop, and he glances at Billy, figuring he'd say something like 'nah, let's switch' but Billy just looks at him, quirking an expectant brow.

"You gonna strip or what, Harrington?" Billy asks with a leer.

Sighing, Steve rolls his eyes and pulls the bottom of his shirt over his head.

🖤

It's gotta be on purpose, right? Steve's suffering from some kind of karma that he doesn't deserve. How fucking hard is it to catch Billy Hargrove without a goddamn shirt?

He has Billy's aviators from the other day and he's on his way to Cherry Lane to return them, his thumb tapping his steering wheel as he replays the memory of that simple little lift of Billy's shirt that started all of this. It's honestly infuriating how unlucky he's been.

And he knows he could just ask, but there's no dignity in that. Billy would just tease him about it and never show it.

When he pulls up to the Hargrove house, Billy's outside mowing the lawn, in shorts and a white tank top. He's sweating a bit, his face so unfortunately attractively flushed. His lips go red whenever he's working out too hard and Steve can't help but to stare at them.

He shuts off his car and gets out, calling, "Billy!" over the sound of the mower.

Billy looks up, squinting in the sunlight, and shuts off the mower. He smiles at Steve, in that mean way he does, and shouts back, "Miss me so bad you had to come and track me down, Stevie?"

He's Stevie when Billy's teasing him, when they're alone.

Steve leans against his car and holds up the aviators, "Figured you'd want these back, asshole."

The smile that blooms on Billy's face is beautiful and he actually says, surprisingly without sarcasm, "You're a goddamn lifesaver."

But, it's not what he says that has Steve freezing in place - it's his hand, going down to the bottom of his shirt, like he's going to lift it to wipe away the little beads of sweat on his forehead, and Steve's breath catches in his throat.

Holy shit. Finally.

His stomach clenches in anticipation, his jaw dropping a little, until he hears a sudden familiar voice screech, "Billy!"

It's Max, on the front porch, with anger written across her face, and Billy's immediately turning to face her, his hand falling to his side, sweat forgotten.

Steve lets out a groan and rests his forehead on his car, closing his eyes as he half listens to the step siblings yelling at each other over something petty.

Goddammit.

He's really at his wit's end.

🖤

It's been two weeks and Steve finds himself at a party on a Friday night, at his wit's end about the whole stupid thing. He can't even talk to Robin about it.

Well, he could, but he doesn't really want to see the look on her face and the deadpanned 'you're such a dingus' she'd say to him.

He knows he's being a dingus, but it's not like he can stop.

What he can do, though, is shoot back some vodka with Carol like they used to in freshman year.

"What, no Billy tonight?" She hums, words just a touch slurred, and he gives her a shrug as he reaches for his half-drunk beer.

"Dunno where he's at," he replies, glancing around the busy room, "Assumed he'd be here."

"You two are, like, attached at the hip these days," she smirks, giving him a look, "What's the deal?"

"No deal," he shrugs again, feeling the vodka warm his belly, "He's just...nice to hang out with, I guess."

"Hm," she hums, giving his arm a pat, "Well, if you wanna know where he is, I saw him go down to the basement like, five minutes ago."

Steve's eyes widen and he immediately looks towards the door leading down to the basement of her house, which is cracked open a little.

He eyes it for a moment before asking, "He take a girl down there?"

"Nope," Carol shakes her head, "Probably went to get more beer, or something."

Maybe he should go check on him.

"Maybe you should go check on him."

He turns and looks down at her, eyeing the impish look on her face, and he doesn't know why it's there or why she's saying that, but he nods anyway.

"Yeah, 'kay," he slurs softly, pushing himself off the counter, his beer left behind there as he makes his way to the door.

The basement is cool, and dark, except for the warm glow of a lamp that he can spot at the bottom of the staircase. He pulls the door closed behind him without meaning to, and slowly descends, hearing the rustling of bottles in the fridge that he knows is down here. Carol's dad had the basement fully finished and furnished for his poker nights a couple years ago, and the fridge in the corner is always fully stocked.

He steps down onto the landing and sways, holding onto the railing as he watches Billy compare two bottles of beer, as if he really prefers either. The best beer is a free beer, and the only thing better than a free beer, is a cold one.

Steve breaks the silence first, saying, "You didn't tell me you'd be here."

Billy glances over at him, surprised, before he recognizes him and then he's smirking, "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be here anyway, pretty boy."

He's pretty boy when they're alone and Billy's flirting.

Steve feels his face flush, from the alcohol (he tries to convince himself), and he quietly watches Billy put one of the bottles back in the fridge before bringing the other one to his mouth, opening it with his molars, and it makes Steve cringe every single time.

"You're gonna wreck your teeth doing that shit," he mutters, like he does every time.

Billy flicks the cap away with that smug smile still on his face, and like every time, he replies, "Haven't yet."

He watches Billy come over to him, to probably go back upstairs now that he's invaded Mr. Perkins' stash, but he can't help the way his eyes flick down Billy's body.

And his eyes stop at the bottom of Billy's Metallica shirt, which might've shrunk in the wash or something, because it's short than Steve remembers and that's when he sees it.

A shiny metal ball, just peeking out from under the dark fabric.

His heart skips a beat and he doesn't even hesitate to step off the landing and push Billy back against the nearest wall, listening to the soft rush of air as the blond's back hits it a little too hard, but he's smiling like the prick he is, staring down his nose at Steve as he tilts his head back.

"Mm, Stevie, that wasn't very nice," he purrs, and that's when Steve smells the alcohol on his breath, but he doesn't care.

He grabs the bottom of Billy's shirt and rucks it up, his jaw dropping as he breathes out a rush of air, like he's just been punched in the gut.

He wasn't seeing things. He was right.

A silver curved barbell, pierced through Billy's navel, sitting so pretty and perfect just above his happy trail.

"You like it?" Billy hums, arrogant, because he already knows Steve does.

His mouth is too dry to answer, and he can't help it when he begins to touch the skin of Billy's stomach, his dark eyes trained on the piercing as his fingers dance around it, his thumb daring to draw closer and closer until he strokes the barbell, giving it a little tug that has Billy making this sound that goes straight to his cock--

"Fuck," Steve breathes, feeling his cock throb in his jeans, so fucking turned on and he hadn't even known it until he heard Billy make that sound, and now he's arching into Steve's touch, seeking it out, and...and...

He flicks his eyes back up to Billy, sees this look on his face, like he kinda wants to eat Steve alive but also wants to be kissed, so Steve does.

He surges forward and Billy meets him halfway, their mouths meeting in a frenzy, like they can't get there fast enough or close enough. He can hear glass break, knowing it's the beer bottle, but it's forgotten because it's dizzying - the way Billy pushes his tongue into his mouth, not wasting a single moment, groaning into his mouth and it goes straight to his cock again.

His hands go to Billy's waist and he pulls himself against him, tilting his head to suck at Billy's lower lip as he grinds his hips into the blond's, revelling in the choke moan he receives for it.

"Knew you'd be into it," Billy breathes, when Steve kisses down his neck and licks at the cologne there, his skin bitter and salty, and he bites down on the junction between neck and shoulder just to hear Billy moan again.

"Shut up," Steve pants, pouting as he sucks on Billy's neck, and then pauses because--

He pulls back just enough to look at Billy, admires the flush on his face before he says, accusingly, "You knew."

"Of course I knew," Billy chuckles low, his teeth flashing as he grins, "I couldn't help it. It was fun watching you lose your mind over it."

"You're such a fucking brat," Steve growls, fisting a hand in Billy's hair and pulling him into a hard kiss, hearing Billy's chuckling hums turn into soft moans as Steve slides his tongue against Billy's.

He can't help but to imagine a stud there, sliding against his tongue, against his skin, against the tip of his cock--

Billy hooks his leg around Steve's hip and reaches down to grab his ass, pulling their hips together until there's a delicious but restricted friction, the blond growling into his mouth, "Yeah? You gonna do anything about it?"

It's enough of a taunt for Steve to pull them away from the wall and turn them, once again pushing Billy back towards the poker table in the middle of the room, a fire in his blood that Billy notices in his eyes and it has him grinning, flushed and pleased as he crawls back onto the table, letting Steve push him down onto his back.

"You gonna suck my cock like you've been wanting to, princess?" Billy breathes, cocky as always.

"Maybe," Steve hums, pushing Billy's shirt up again to get another look at the piercing there, thumbing over it and giving it a playful little tug that has Billy hissing.

"That hurt?" He asks gently.

"S'fine," Billy hums, licking his lips, "Just got it caught on something this morning, kinda tender..."

"Good," Steve says, pushing the shirt higher with both hands, until he's thumbing at Billy's nipples, feeling them harden under his touch and he watches the pleasure cross Billy's face as he squirms under it, sensitive.

"Wonder how sensitive they'd be if you pierced them, too," he murmurs, feeling his blush spread down to his chest as he images it, silver barbells through each nipple, playing with them until Billy had tears in his eyes, begging him to stop or make him cum.

"Maybe we should find out," Billy sighs, moans when Steve gives them a little pinch, arching into the touch like a girl.

"Maybe we should," he agrees, thumbing over them again as he lowers his mouth, pressing and sucking kisses into Billy's stomach, unable to help himself as his mouth wanders lower, his tongue peeking out to guide the metal ball of the barbell into his mouth, groaning as he closes his mouth around it and gives it a little suck, feeling Billy's hips buck under him as he gasps out, "Steve!"

"Yeah, baby? Feel good?" Steve murmurs as he flicks his tongue over it again, sliding his hands down from Billy's chest and to his jeans, tugging his belt open and kissing lower and lower, nuzzling that happy trail with the tip of his nose as he tugs Billy's jeans down, lower and lower until his cock is out and Steve can feel it bump his chin.

He's like a man starved, opening his mouth wide and taking Billy's cock onto his tongue, moaning at the taste of him, salty and bitter like cologne and he still fucking puts it on his dick, the freak, but it's too good and he doesn't even care at this point, not when Billy's grabbing a fistful of his hair and gasping his name.

It's messy, because he's kinda drunk, but he does his best, sucking and minding his teeth, swirling his tongue over the tip before taking Billy as deep as he can, gagging on it gently because Billy makes the prettiest sounds when he does.

"Fuck, Stevie, so fucking pretty like this," Billy moans, watching Steve bob his head up and down on his cock, and he glances up at the blond, their eyes meeting as he slurps at the tip like a fucking slut, and it makes his cheeks burn red.

"Shit--I'm close," Billy gasps, his face twisting in pleasure, which is honestly a compliment because Steve knows he can blow him better than this if he were totally sober, but it's not exactly the time to drag things out, so he sucks harder and brings his hand down to fondle at Billy's balls, giving them a little tug and pressing his knuckles to his taint, enraptured as he watches Billy's eyes roll back as he cums, gripping Steve's hair hard.

It makes him whimper, feeling a streak of cum in his mouth, and he pulls off Billy's cock with a soft gasp, feeling another streak or two paint his chin and cheek.

"Holy fuck," Billy laughs quietly, going limp on the table, but he's still staring down at Steve, humming, "You got a lil something there, Stevie..."

He doesn't even care, too turned on to fucking think as he straightens and goes for his own jeans, yanking them down and pulling out his cock with one hand while the other goes to his face, spitting Billy's cum out onto his palm while he wipes the mess on his chin and cheek with his fingers, bringing that hand down to wrap around himself with a moan.

It's gross but it's worth it to see the stunned and awed look on Billy's face, his jaw slack and blue eyes wide as he looks down to watch Steve stroke himself, clearly admiring his cock.

"Jesus, Stevie," Billy sighs, "You've been holding out on me."

"You've seen it before," he grunts, stroking over the tip and feeling his balls tighten in response.

"Not like this," Billy hums, licking his lips, and Steve's locked in on his mouth then, imagining it stretched around his cock, knowing that it eventually will be.

He feels his stomach tense and he whimpers out a quiet 'fuck' as he cums, aiming right for Billy's stomach, sighing happily when he watches it cover Billy's piercing.

"Oh, you fucker," Billy chuckles, breathless and almost fucked out, looking up at Steve with annoyed amusement.

"Pay back, for the two weeks you put me through," Steve pants with a grin, triumphant.

But, like he knows, he's a sucker for Billy and he doesn't leave him like that. He goes over to the couch against the wall and grabs the box of tissues there, pulling a few out to clean himself with before taking a few more to Billy, who grabs them from him.

He watches Billy carefully wipe away at his piercing, smirks when he hears the annoyed grumbling as he wipes the cum from his belly button, and he grins when Billy shoots him a look.

"You had it coming," he chuckles, scrunching his nose when Billy throws the crumpled up tissue at his face.

"Asshole," Billy hums, tucking himself back into his jeans, slow and unhurried.

Steve does the same and watches his best friend push himself up with a wince, until they're face to face again, although the table has Steve looking up at Billy a bit.

They stare at each other for a moment, in that warm lamp light, until Steve leans in and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to Billy's mouth. Way too sweet for what they just did.

"So," he hums against Billy's mouth, "About those nipple piercings..."

He feels Billy smile against his mouth, his chest rumbling with a chuckle as he mutters, "I'll think about it."

They both know he's definitely doing it.

[hauntedestheart]

Team Meeting (Male Possession)

As captain of his college football team, Jayvon had a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders. Not only was he expected to be the coach's right hand man and keep the team running like a machine on the field, he also had to make sure that the team behaved themselves off the field as well, which was why the team decided that he should be the one to break "the news" at the next post-practice meeting.

"Championship is on the horizon team," Jayvon addressed his teammates, bellowing loudly so the sweaty young men would pay attention. "This is what all of us have been dreaming about since we picked up the ball back in high school, a chance to get that trophy and be the best team in the country. So I need everyone on their A-game." He paused expectantly. "Anything you wanna share with the team Kyle?"

All eyes went to to Kyle, the handsome running back, who was at that moment distracted by the surreptitious flexing he was doing of his sizeable right bicep. He giggled under his breath, one hand squeezing at the swell of muscle, but at the sound of his name he quickly lowered his hands to his sides and looked up sheepishly.

"Me?" Kyle asked, confused, and he dusted his hands off on his sides. "Uh, no, I think you said it all. Just, you know, go team!"

The young man gave a few small claps and then threw his fist in the air like a cheerleader, a rather dainty looking motion that elicited groans from his teammates. Jayvon bent his head and pinched the brim of his nose, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Benicio, we know it's you in there," he grumbled, fixing a tired stare onto the sandy haired boy in front of him.

From the outside, he looked just like the same strapping running back who had been a valuable member of the team for the past three years. But Jayvon was certain there was someone else inside, and he had the whole team backing him up on that.

Kyle flinched and a look of shock crossed his face for a moment, but then he scoffed and crossed his arms. "Wh- what are you guys talking about?"

"Cut the crap Ben, we know you stole Kyle's body," one of the other team members called out, and Jayvon shot the speaker a stern look.

"I'll handle this guys," Jayvon assured them, and then he turned his attention back to the impostor in their midst. "Ben, don't bother pretending, everybody's figured it out by now. You've done a terrible job of acting like Kyle."

"Excuse me?" Kyle gasped and splayed one hand out across his chest dramatically- something Jayvon knew the real Kyle would never do. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're literally wearing a crop top," Jayvon pointed out. "When have you ever seen Kyle wear a crop top?"

Kyle glanced down at the thin grey crop top he was wearing- sleeveless, so as to show off his powerful arms, and just short enough that it would flare up and reveal tantalizing glimpses of his abs as he ran. A slutty choice for workout gear clearly meant to draw the eyes, and very unlike the Kyle everyone knew.

"Maybe I just wanted a change," Kyle tugged at the hem of the shirt, one of his hands moving instinctively to slide over the ridges of his tight six pack. "I've got these great abs, why wouldn't I want to show them off?"

"Even if I believed that, you don't know any of the plays," Jayvon continued, and the rest of the team mumbled their agreement. "Kyle has the playbook memorized front to back and yet you can barely catch a ball."

Kyle crossed his arms and shuffled in place, his meek and insecure body language a stark contrast to his heavily muscular form.

"Brain fart?" He protested weakly, the sweat on his head unrelated to the heavy workout he'd just participated in. "So I've been having a few off-games, that doesn't mean I've been body snatched."

"And dude, I'm just gonna say it," Jayvon shook his head- he'd hoped he wouldn't have to bring this one up. "You've done a terrible job of concealing your boners in the showers. Did you think we wouldn't notice that thing swinging around? It's kinda hard to miss."

Jayvon shuddered when he thought back over the behavior Kyle had demonstrated over the last few weeks in the locker room- no one had been able to miss how the running back had suddenly begun regularly sporting massive wood, or how his usual cursory post-game showers had transformed into almost hour long self-worship sessions where he loving rubbed soap into every nook and cranny of his chiseled body. Fortunately no one on the team had reported "Kyle" for any sort of harassment, but Jayvon had been forced to remind him several times that it was not okay to jack off in the community showers.

"Okay, so, I'm virile. I'm a college football player, that's normal!" Kyle frowned and tucked his hands in front of his crotch protectively, attempting to conceal the fact that his dick was already at half mast. The bulge bouncing around in his shorts was another sign that it was an impostor- the real Kyle always wore a cup. "And what, I can't be gay?"

"You can," Jayvon spat on the grass. "But Kyle isn't. Kyle doesn't have a limp wrist. Kyle doesn't stare at everyone's dicks in the shower. And Kyle definitely doesn't go out to gay bars on the weekend, tell everyone his name is Benicio, and offer to let dudes grab his ass in exchange for free shots." Jayvon watched as Kyle's body froze, and he knew he'd hit the mark. "Yeah that's right, my cousin saw you last week. Really Ben?"

Ben finally dropped the act and relaxed, popping out one of his hips and placing his hands on his waist. Everyone recognized the posture of the gay young man who had been attending classes with them for the past four years- only now, he had the face and body of a football hunk.

"Oh, what, so I'm just supposed to pay for drinks when I have a dumpy like this?" Ben rolled his eyes and arched his back, baring Kyle's prodigious bubble butt demonstratively. "As if!"

Everyone on the team erupted into chatter at that, but a quick look from Jayvon silenced them.

"I don't even want to know how," Jayvon frowned and fixed his gaze on Ben. "Just... why?"

"Why do you think?" Ben rolled his eyes. With one hand he lifted up the hem of his crop top, exposing his sweaty torso for the world to see, and the other hand slapped at one of his meaty pecs. "Look at all this body! Kyle is the hottest guy on the team, AND he was a total jackass so I didn't feel bad about doing it. Can you blame me for wanting to have a little bit of fun?"

Jayvon instinctively averted his eyes from the amateur strip show in front of him and cleared his throat.

"Okay, well, you've had your fun," he said. "Now it's time to let him go."

"Are you guys threatening me?" Ben shrunk backwards a bit, glancing around nervously at the pack of ripped men surrounding him, and he seemed to be trying to cram Kyle's hulking body into as little space as possible. "Are you guys gonna like, beat me up? Because I'm warning you, this body has really big muscles so I'm super strong right now and I'll-"

"No one is threatening anything," Jayvon interrupted. "Right boys?"

Everyone on the team voiced their agreement, and Ben relaxed a bit. Jayvon took a cautious step forwards and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, his voice lowering like he was talking to a frightened animal.

"Look, Ben, everyone here likes you," Jayvon continued. "You seem like a cool dude other than... you know, stealing this guy's body and whoring it out to dudes. And god knows that Kyle could be a bit of an asshole. But he's one of our best running backs and we need him for the season, okay? So we all agreed to just look the other way and let you dip out of him, no questions asked. Otherwise we'll have to go to the authorities with what we know. That sounds fair, right?"

"But-" Ben's lip quivered and tears welled up in his eyes. "But he's so hot! I've never gotten this much dick in my life. I feel so sexy when I'm inside of him, I love being a big strong football guy!"

Jayvon shook his head. "You don't like being a big strong football guy, Ben. You hate football," he said bluntly. "You've showed no interest in it at all since stealing Kyle's body, all you're really interested in is having big muscles and a big dick. You can find somebody else to do that- let Kyle go."

"Well, I was getting tired of having to act masc all the time..." Ben chewed his lip for a moment, mulling over his options, and then he sighed. "Fine! I'll let him go. Just..." Ben glanced around the circle of boys hesitantly, then back to Jayvon. "Can I have a second to say goodbye?"

Jayvon released his shoulder and took a step back, giving a little shrug in confirmation, and immediately Ben's hands were all over Kyle's body. Shamelessly, in front of the entire team, he shoved one hand down the front of his pants, eyes squinting shut with pleasure as he threw his head back and groaned.

"This thing is so sensitive, you guys have no idea," he announced, and all of the other boys shuffled uncomfortably.

Ben's hands continued their farewell tour of Kyle's body, tracing a path up his abs to his bulging pecs, and he gave a little squeak of excitement when he tweaked one of his nipples. The hand remained there, thumb stroking at the peak of pink flesh, and then the other hand darted up and grabbed the other pectoral and he squished the two of them together, giving a little giggle as he did so.

He released his chest and slid his hands back down his body, migrating south until he reached the swell of meat that jutted out from his backside.

"And I think I'll miss you most of all..." he muttered, his fingers digging deep into the pillowy flesh of Kyle's ass one last time. Ben glanced up at Jayvon expectantly, the excitement in his eyes a strange juxtaposition to the massive cock staining the front of his shorts. "Can I rub one out? Just for the road?"

"Okay, that's enough of that," Jayvon coughed awkwardly, deciding that it was best to interrupt this before it went any further. He cleared his throat, mustered up all the authority he had as captain, and clapped his hands. "Here's what's gonna happen now: we're gonna close our eyes, I'm gonna count to ten, and when I open them, Kyle is gonna be Kyle, okay?"

Ben gave out a sigh, nodded, and then Jayvon stuck his hand in the air and began the countdown. All eyes went shut and everyone listened to the booming sound of Jayvon's voice.

"Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three..."

Jayvon stumbled and paused in the count early, but everyone opened their eyes two seconds later anyways. Immediately, all eyes were fixed on Kyle's body. The young man was standing in the exact same spot he had been before, but now he wore a look of utter confusion on his face.

"How did I get on the field? What am I wearing?" Kyle groaned as he rubbed at his head, and then he shifted his hips and winced. "And what the fuck happened to my ass?"

Everyone on the team erupted into cheers and they rushed in towards their teammate, patting him on the back and giving him warm wishes on his return. He glanced around, still unsure where he was or what was happening, and his eyes locked onto his captain Jayvon. Jayvon grinned back at him triumphantly.

"Great job everybody, now that that's taken care of, hit the showers!" Jayvon called out, and the men of the football team cheered and took off for the locker rooms with a very confused Kyle trailing behind.

One of the team members stopped, noticing that Jayvon hadn't moved to follow them, and he called over to his captain.

"Hey Jay, are you coming?" He asked, and Jayvon shook his head.

"No, no, I think I'm gonna head out actually," Jayvon said, rubbing at his chest. "Something just came up."

The teammate shrugged and turned to jog away, completely missing the sight of Jayvon tugging his shorts forwards and peeking down at his crotch.

"I can work with this..." Ben grinned.

[yourheartonfire]

The battle ended not with a bang but a whimper; no glorious triumph or mad retreat but a long, slow dying as exhausted soldiers fell until the few still on their feet all were on the same side.

Not the protagonist's side.

Desperately they tried to will themselves back up to their feet, tried to force numb fingers to close around the sword that lay in the mud beside them. But their body was done, helpless as the tired enemy soldiers picked their way closer and closer, methodically stripping bodies of any small valuables and finishing off any wounded still alive.

The protagonist prayed frantically to any god they thought might hear them. The god of war. The god of peace. The god from any temple and roadside shrine they could ever remember visiting. They wracked their brain. Dead. They'd have to pretend to be dead. They could do that. They were half there already, just slow their breathing and don't catch anyone's...

They turned their head and saw the god of war looking straight at them.

Like everyone else on the battlefield the god was spattered with blood, from her cropped hair to her armored boots. She could have been any soldier from any nation - except for the terrible red joy in her eyes as she beheld the devastation wrought.

"Hello, little sacrifice," she said without moving her lips. She pointed, and as if puppeted, one of the enemy soldiers started to turn their head -

A clean boot crunched down next to the protagonist's head. Then another, stepping carefully over them to place themselves between the god and the protagonist. The protagonist looked up at a figure straight out of their childhood.

The god of war stopped.

"Are you serious?" she sneered.

The god of the protagonist's childhood village shrine shrugged, strumming his fingers thoughtfully over the lute in his hands. Unlike the murals, the statues, he was not dressed in fine court robes but in simple traveler clothes, his hair pulled back into a plain knot. But just as the protagonist remembered, he seemed impossibly tall. Impossibly beautiful.

"Spare this one," the god asked, stilling those long clever hands on the strings. "Please. This one is mine."

The god of war laughed. "You think you can challenge me, godling? Me? Here? At the height of my strength? Flee back to whatever muddy temple you escaped from and maybe I'll let you survive, you jumped up deity of bad chords and tasteless lyrics."

"Oh, I'm no god of anything so prevalent," the protagonist's god murmured humbly. "And I'm not here to challenge you, great one. Say rather, we're here to bargain. After all, this one has something that can benefit you."

The god shot the protagonist a look. The protagonist knew this line from the stories of their childhood.

"A song!" they blurted. "A - an epic about what happened here, about you, to make all who hear it shout and weep and... and honor your name."

The god of war... paused. Tilted their head.

"A fitting tribute to your potency," their god chimed in, the melody from their lute drifting into a martial fanfare. "From a god-touched bard. Surely that makes them worth more alive than dead."

A shout went up from the other side of the field. Someone was up and swords were swinging. The god of war waved an impatient hand, already disappearing towards the fight. "Fine. But I expect my song. I'll hold you responsible, godling. I don't forget!"

She was gone and the god of the protagonist's childhood turned to look down at them. "Well," he said, reaching out a hand to pull the protagonist up. "I hope you can actually write music."

"Seems like a priority to learn," the protagonist said fervently, and their god of trickery and bargains laughed and hauled them away.

[gaybananabread]

Could we get headcanons for the LOV +Hawks? They're a nightmare found family and must have violent tickle fights...

⋋🕯️LoV Tkl Headcanons🕯️⋌

~Alright, got these in! I love doing these hcs, it's fun just splatting ideas down on here! I've already done KFC and Crispy Boi, so I'll link them below. These maniacs would absolutely get into some wild fights, especially when tensions are high. Warning, this is super long, so be prepared (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠). Thank you for requesting!~

(Hawks and Dabi hcs)

🎮Shigaraki⊰⁠⊹

General:

Neutral on tickling. Doesn't hate it, not super crazy about it.

He's just gotta be in the right mood at the right time.

Will kill anyone who tries to get him to admit it, but he doesn't totally hate it.

I'd say he's a lee. Besides the obvious risk of disintegrating someone, I just feel that he wouldn't want to touch another person like that for that long. Again, certain mood, certain time.

Lee:

On the semi-rare occasion that he does get into a lee mood, he tries his best to ignore it.

He's the leader of the League! “Leaders don't indulge in childish things, it's below me!”

Yeah, that fails after about twenty minutes of denial.

This touch-starved boyo can not fight off a mood like that for long.

He'll try to subtly provoke one of the other members into doing it. Wearing one of his more beat-up shirts, crop top, maybe a tank top. Sitting with his arms behind his head, sassing them, everything he can think of.

The only one who ever really gets him is Mr. Compress. Someone else might pick up on the hints, but are too scared for their lives to do anything about it.

Lighter stuff works best on him, though in certain spots, some good digging will be rewarded.

His worst spots are his palms and thighs.

It feels like his quirk would make those boys really sensitive, though you have to be careful around his fingers. Maybe some special gloves with the palm cut out? Eh, they'll get creative.

Melt spot would be his back. Light tracing, maybe feathers or something along those lines. Either way, he loves it.

Raspy, restrained little giggles at first. Boy refuses to laugh.

You get him good, though, and it'll be ear-splitting cackles and old-door-level squeaks.

📏Twice🎭

General:

Switchy-switch, depending on what side of him is leading.

His calmer, more rational side typically means lee mood.

His angrier, more violent side normally means ler mood.

Twice thinks tickling is a fun way to bond with his fellow members, as well as just relaxing and enjoying it.

Lee:

When he gets lee moods, they're often in-his-face and hard to ignore. Big, obtrusive need to get his shit wrecked.

The observant among the members can point it out. Extra giddiness, little jokes he wouldn't normally tell, and random giggles. Coin toss on who ends up giving a fuck, but still.

Hawks is usually his ler, though Toga is next in line. It's easy to get Hawks annoyed enough to send a feather after him. Toga is sadistic enough to wreck him whenever; it's asking her that's hard.

Worst spots are his ribs and armpits. Pitchy, boisterous cackles when you go for them.

Melt spot is his back. He loves back rubs that slowly become tickly, or just straight-up scribbles.

Ler:

Evil little shit about it. The harsher personality has a field day.

If he's having a decent day and is feeling cruel enough, he’ll make a clone or two to help him.

Big squeezes, drilling into worst-spots, raspberries, you name it. He wants to see his lee cackling before he's done.

The kind of mf to say “Citchie citchie coo~” without a hint of shame.

Most of the time, he'll give revenge tickles. Occasionally, though, there'll be a softer ler that pokes out just for comfort purposes.

Aftercare really depends on who it is. Most of the time, his nicer side comes out.

He'll do anything from smug comments to back rubs and a fluffy blanket.

🔪Toga🩸

General:

First off: girlie loves tickling

Can and will bring it up confidently. She's already kinda crazy—who cares what they think about this?

Gives ler-leaning switch vibes, methinks. Always ready to destroy someone, but wouldn't mind some pokes along the way~

Lee:

While they're less frequent, she definitely gets lee moods.

Knowing he'll almost always provide, she typically goes to Twice for tickly aid. If he's unavailable, though, it's skillfully tricking other members into giving her what she wants.

Very squirmy, can and will break your nose if you're not careful.

Worst spots are her hips. A few squeezes there and she's down for the count.

Melt spot would have to be her palms. She kinda gives off attention whore vibes, so she'd love any light, affectionate traces on them.

Got a bright and bubbly laughter that descends into cackles if you get her good. Blushes very easily, though she'll always have some blood-related excuse.

Ler:

Run for the hills, my friend.

Ruthless little ler, doesn't like to stop until her lee is a teary, tickle-drunk mess.

She loves building up anticipation, big on tickle games and hide-and-seek chases

Light tracing up and down a lee's midriff, stopping just shy of their worst spots before digging in.

Most teasing bitch to ever roam the Earth-

“Oooooh, your cheeks are so red! I love that color on you, cutie~” “Laugh for me! You know you wanna~”

“Oh, I'm sorry, does that word make it worse? A-tickle tickle tickle!”

Most frequent lee is Twice, though she's gotten everyone at least once before.

Not much aftercare unless you ask. Maybe a glass of water or some rubs. If requested, though, she'll cling to you for hours.

🎩Mr. Compress🔮

General:

So we can all agree he's the group dad-friend, right?

Tell me you don't see it. That's right, you can't-(/hj)

Sees tickling as a fun way to bond and de-stress. Often used by him as a cheer-up method.

I'd say switch on this one. He doesn't really seem to lean either way—only that his friends are enjoying themselves!

Lee:

Doesn't really get lee moods, though he's always open to a playful session with one of the League members.

Kinda like a human stress-toy volunteer

He doesn't mind it at all—it’s fun! What's the harm if it's doing somebody some good?

Worst spots are his belly and upper back. Get him there and he's a goner.

For melt spot, I'd say his tops of his thighs/calves. Man seems like he'd enjoy some leg tickles.

Deep, rich laughter. Kinda like Santa, but less ho-ho-hoey, ya know?

Ler:

Paternal tickle monster, no discussion.

He's got the “mental anguish” radar that good dads just seem to magically have.

He'll ask if they're okay and talk it out before starting his “special treatment” for their problem.

As said before, tickle monster gimmick is his thing.

“Is somebody stressed out? You know, tired minds are a special monster's favorite prey…”

“You'd better be careful with that frown around here. You don't wanna wake up…the Tickle Monster!”

“I can't hear you, dear! The Monster's taken over, and he's hungry for laughter!”

Seems like they'd kill him for it, but when they're upset, his silly antics are just what they need.

Tickles Twice and Toga the most, mainly to help with episodes or get Toga to wind down.

Shigaraki occasionally gets it, either for lee-mood help or pressure alleviation.

🗡️Spinner🦎

General:

He seems like a ler, ya know?

Like, he wouldn't hate being tickled, but he much prefers doing it to others.

Is a little too prideful to say it, but finds tickling people to be a fun way to wind down. Also, laughter is just adorable.

Ler:

He'd be kinda in the middle on the roughness-scale. He's not gonna go feather-light, but his goal isn't to kill you. Just enough to get some good belly laughter.

But like bro…have you seen those claws?

Ajhdbhwhs-

Ista-death, no matter how he uses them. Gentle traces? Butterflies swarming. And if he decides to be cruel? Kiss your diaphragm goodbye-

Also, the snooty-snout? Besides being cute, I'm betting tickle nibbles would be double-evil.

Teasing bastard, but affectionately. He can't help but be a jerk, but it's all in good fun.

“Man, you're so ticklish! I've got no idea how you've survived this long.”

“I didn't even know it was possible to blush that hard! You're teaching me new things every day, giggles.”

“Wouldn't it suck if I went for your worst spot? What's that? Hmm, guess I'll do it now if you're gonna be like that…”

Favorite lee would probably be Shigaraki

Picture it: fanboy getting to tickle his obsession-boy and hearing his laugh. And if Shiggy’s in a lee mood? It's a trillion times better for him.

After crusty-man, he'd go for Mr. Compress. Tickling the dad-man could make any one of the members smile, and Spinner is no exception.

Teasy aftercare. Besides the snide comments and little remarks, he's nice with it. Glass of water, potential couch-cuddles afterwards with a video game or movie.

[theamityelf]

(Kamukuras AU Masterlist)

"So, Kamukoto," Junko says, twirling a strand of her voluminous hair around one manicured finger and smacking her gum in a way that is meant to downplay the inside knowledge she's just demonstrated by half-using the name 'Kamukura'. "What do you think of my nails today?"

He is sitting beside her on a bench close to the main school building. He's wearing the hoodie the class gave him. His thick, brown hair he has taken to trimming at just past shoulder length and tying back in a ponytail, with a bunny hair tie that Junko also gave him. The bunny has a tracker inside, which he knows and allows. (It's not as if Byakuya's nearest home address was classified in the first place.)

His eyes are still bright red, because he eventually decided against using colored contacts for his classmates' benefit.

Perhaps his first demonstration of personal identity, though the choice itself was a passive one.

"I think I...don't like them," he answers honestly.

"Color me deeply offended," she replies, with barely a veneer of offense. "Why not?"

"Well, that seems to be the same polish that was used to ruin the personalized comic Hifumi made for me, which heavily implicates you as the one who did it. Also the saturation doesn't quite match the color of your lipstick. An extra coat would have rectified that."

"Oh, good, you picked up on that first one. I was worried I hadn't done enough to take credit for my gift. When did you know it was me?"

"Within a second of Hifumi tearfully showing me his ruined comic. Was I supposed to mention it out loud?"

"No, but a glance or wink would be very validating for me."

"By validating, you mean reinforcing the behavior?"

"Maybe."

"What kind of acknowledgement would you find least validating?"

She hoots with laughter, pinching his cheek hard enough to break the skin. "Ice cold, you lab rat!"

"Kyoko said I'm allowed to be unaccommodating with people when I feel like it. I wasn't sure what kind of feeling she was talking about at the time, but I think this is it. Was that good, for you?"

"Aww, you even negotiate your kink after the fact! You're so precious, I'd cut you open if someone hadn't beat me to it. Still might," she adds in singsong.

He gently removes her hand from his face. "Speaking of, I've also been asked not to let people hurt me."

"Uh-oh! Am I in trouble?"

"My friends have said they won't harm my classmates unless..." He trails off. "You'll be fine. I might have to make this minor injury look like it was caused by something other than fingernails. Next time I'll remember to stop you."

"What else were you asked not to let people do to you?" Junko purrs.

He blinks, considering her and deciding what to make of the subtext of her question.

"Makoto!" Nagito greets, walking up to them (having presumably stealthed over until he announced himself at ten feet away) without even the pretense of having to look around.

He's dressed in bright-colored, loose-legged pants and a crop top, with jewelry in a seemingly-random subset of the many piercings he's given himself since escaping the labs. His hair is about as thick as Makoto's, but not as curly, and he's allowed it to grow just past the small of his back with only a few streaks of dye throughout (in a rare show of restraint, which is unlikely to last). In one hand, he is absentmindedly twirling a closed umbrella.

"The Ultimate Yakuza mistook me for this body's former occupant on my way here," he continues. "I kissed him on the mouth, of course. His reaction suggested that was incorrect. Ready to come home? Because I'm allowed to use force, if you're reluctant."

"Oh." After a few seconds of sustained eye contact, Makoto says, "I'm...reluctant?"

"Thank you!" Nagito says, picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder.

Junko opts to interject, now. "Hi there, Kamukomaeda. Remember me?"

"The noisy, impudent one who forgets she's beneath us!" Nagito says delightedly, his bright red eyes actually landing on Junko for the first time. "Good afternoon. I see you've slightly injured my favorite compeer. I wouldn't want to be you when our predecessor sees it."

"Why? Do you think Izuru-sama will finally grace me with his presence? Because don't get me wrong, botched experiments are totes my type, but I am just itching to get my hands on the original; my sources say he actually came out as intended."

"You put a lot of stock in the intentions of our inferiors," Nagito muses (still carrying Makoto on one shoulder). "Understandable, as one yourself. But you're mistaken if you believe provoking our predecessor's wrath will earn you his attention for very long. If he feels moved to confront you, it's unlikely you'll have time to talk."

"And here I thought you were the fun one."

"Also understandable. I present as such because I frequently entertain myself." Nagito casually puts up his umbrella just in time, as someone empties a bottle of formaldehyde out of a window above them. The angle of the umbrella causes the fluids to trickle down the back of Junko's shirt. "Good afternoon, Ultimate Fashionista."

"Bye, Junko," Makoto adds, as Nagito turns to leave. "You should soak those clothes in a bucket of hot water with a cup and a half of baking soda for at least eight hours, then rinse them with cold water and leave them to air dry."

[adamsrcnan]

okay i'll bite, here's my jeremy knox speculations !!!

it's nothing super outrageous in my opinion, as fun and interesting as that would be, but alas lets dig in.

with regards to the police, his step grandfather is a congressman which means his step father probably has political ties too. this could mean they have ties to the police force perhaps involved in funding or something?? hence why jeremy would be recognised by them bc he gets forced to go to these occasions to paint a perfect family picture and maybe they're full of cops?? and maybe that's just not something he wants to be associated with lmao. cannot blame him now can we?

rhemann tells jean he can ask jeremy to leave the vicinity if he wants to press charges and call the cops i don't think this is because jeremy could get in trouble or anything bc i don't think rhemann would risk that. i think it's just because him being there might have sway or might lead to more gossip among the force that jean would wanna avoid. and if rhemann knows about whatever this weird avoiding police thing is i'm not sure it would be something so horrible??

in terms of his past. personally i don't agree jeremy was aggressive as a teen. i read him talking about his high school team as more of a "they played that way. i didn't vibe with it. i wanted to make sure my college team wasn't the same" i mean it's basically what he says he doesn't imply anything else but again the guy is closed off as HECK so god knows. but i don't think jeremy has an aggressive tendency. i feel like, given how the foxes have their entire lives pried into, if jeremy had such a reputation in the past (being in a class 1 team and captain of it no less) it would be known. and jean would know bc of kevin's obsession. like that would be a huge scandal.

i don't think he's done anything crazy like murder or manslaughter or has any assault charge. although that screenshot i posted a couple days ago is very Very sus, i think it might stem from how his family makes him feel about himself. because again i don't think he'd be able to keep any of that hidden.

UNLESS it's been all swept under the rug thanks to the political ties from the step family, and maybe that's why they dislike him so much. but again i think it's all a bit far fetched bc i don't think jeremy would be able to be so well adjusted after something like that, even after attending therapy.

which brings me to my next point, which is where he mentioned his mother finding the therapist for him and his family as he says "us" when talking about it which means they all see this therapist and jean mentions jeremy does not seem bothered to be exposed for having to go to therapy. i think if he was in therapy bc he did something really terrible he wouldn't want it known. especially if it's meant to be swept under the rug. i think this is in relation to the mysterious brother and the possibility of losing them to suicide. as he becomes very serious when jean says he promised he wouldn't kill himself saying it's nothing to joke about. also his concern for jean's wellbeing after ravens start dropping like flies maybe bc he knows how the grief feels.

thought that could also be a far fetched speculation because jeremy says the fall banquet broke their family in half. it's obvious his step family and his older brother and younger sister are not on his side, his mother sounds questionable too. so maybe that just leaves his other brother and his father and again maybe it's just a case of them being supportive of jeremy's sexuality.

there's also a brief mention of jeremy's dad being stationed in europe - some kind of military man?? since his mother re-married there's definitely something there too. maybe jeremy still keeps in touch with his father and it's not appreciated by the rest of the family? idk this one's a bit of a stretch but i feel like it might crop up again. what with jeremy not wanting to be addressed as "knox" as well - is that his father's name or his step father's name??? why does he not like it??

moving on to the scandal at the fall banquet i think this has to do with jeremy getting outed for being gay. lucas before cutting himself off at the beach says "now that you're.." implying they didn't know before so maybe jeremy was keeping it under wraps but got involved with someone from another team (???) at the banquet and got caught. his step grandfather and step father, and brother are probably very conservative and of course did not agree with jeremy's "lifestyle" and i think this had consequences on the whole family as it probably got out and "tarnished" their image. jeremy was probably asked to give up exy so as not to get involved with all "that" and he obviously refused. punishment for that probably meant his sister not caring for his games anymore as he wouldn't compromise for her, him getting put on a strict allowance and his mother's bookkeeper having to keep up with his expenses bc he's only given a certain amount of money. maybe a way for them to take back control over his life?? it also could explain why he has to stay at home during the school year so they can keep an eye on him perhaps??? also him getting dismissed from the dinner table bc of his hair as well idk sounds like his family are probs homophobic. also kind of a stretch but mayyyybeee the reason jeremy feels so bad is because he got the person he was involved with into trouble so he feels like a terrible person. but again there's really no alluding to that or implication i'm basically just taking a wild guess. but i feel like it would make some sort of sense

TLDR; i think jeremy's big "scandal" was that he's gay and his step family are just not accepting so they make his life difficult on purpose and he struggles to stand up to them about it

[solarmorrigan]

Hello! I was tagged for this by the marvelous @paperbackribs about... *checks watch* four months ago! I'm so late, I'm sorry, time is meaningless and slippery!

How many works do you have on AO3? 300 (!)

What’s your total AO3 word count? 976,101

What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, I'm only writing for Stranger Things, but I've written things for about 40ish fandoms over the years.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Phony Matrimony [Fantastic Beasts]

Shared Space [Homestuck]

Simple Association [James Bond - Craig movies]

Made with Love (and Yarn) [Stranger Things]

These Days I'm Fine (These Days I Tend to Lie) [Stranger Things]

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I used to get fewer comments, and it was easier to respond to each of them. Having recently been in some much larger fandoms, though, I've kind of been getting overwhelmed and have fallen behind. I'm so grateful that people take the time to even just send a little heart--to tell me that they read this thing and enjoyed it--and I'd love to respond to everyone, but at this rate I'm not quite sure I'll manage to catch up D:

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably either For the Love of You (James Bond, established 00Q, in which Bond is forced to go after Q when he turns out to be a traitor) or either of the fics in the Forever and Ever, Amen series (also James Bond, 00Q, in which Q is a necromancer and won't let Bond die). I've written other dark things, but I tend towards hopeful endings even with those

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most things I've written! I'm a big fan of happily ever after and I write a lot of short fluff pieces. But as far as fics where the happy ending is sort of earned, I'd say maybe He Dreams, Until Such Time (Hades game, gen, in which Hypnos is the Elysium boss fight after having been banished from the House, and Zagreus finds a way to get him back in) or We Have Surplus If We Need It (Pacific Rim, established Newmann, in which Newt tries to figure out who he is in a post-kaiju world and cooks a lot about it)

Do you get hate on fics?

Not particularly. I've gotten a few randos trying to tell me off for writing slash, and one or two people who were clearly just mad at a specific trope and happened to land on my fic, but I've been very fortunate to get largely positive feedback

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I'm not sure it's exactly my strongest suit (and, in fact, often worry that it's not very good at all), but I guess I keep at it?? I've written PWP and plotularly significant smut before; whatever serves my purposes at the time

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not often, but I have! The first fic I ever tried writing on my own was a Buffy/Scooby-Doo crossover, and I've written a fair bit for Gravity Falls/Over the Garden Wall. Not sure how wild either of those are, though?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I've been alerted to, but I've been posting fic for something like 20 years now, so it wouldn't surprise me if at least one of them has cropped up elsewhere under someone else's name

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yyyyyes...? Pretty sure I remember that happening! I think it was over on ff dot net, so I don't remember which one it was. Good odds it was one of my Criminal Minds fics, though

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A few times! I've done RP-style co-writing, round robins, half-and-half, and just plain collaborating. Most of them never reached the point of being able to publish, but they were still fun

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Gotta confess: I don't think I have one. My favorite is usually whatever I'm focusing on at the time; I don't dislike ones I've shipped previously, but they tend to settle fondly into the background once I've left a fandom

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I had a whole Stranger Things fic planned out exploring the potential relationship between Steve and his mom, and I'd love to get at least the bare bones of that done, but there's something about it that just kind of refuses to come

What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and emotion. Emotion is something I feel like I don't identify particularly well in real life, but I think I'm pretty good at getting the intended response from people in my writing. (Also maybe dialogue, but that's just so fun to write)

What are your writing weaknesses?

I! Am! Impatient! I tend to rush through things sometimes and screw the pacing up or skip over important details because I worry writing it out in full will take too long and I'll lose interest. I can also get a little too rigid in trying to achieve a particular outcome, instead of letting the story flow

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't tend to do it, but that's because I'm only fluent in English and don't want to jar anyone with a bad auto-translate job. If someone is speaking another language, I usually try to find a way to signify that based on whether or not the POV character also knows that language

First fandom you wrote for?

It was either HP (forgive me, this was over 20 years ago) or Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Scooby-Doo (crossover fic I wrote when I was, like, nine?)

Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ever?? In my life?? My dude, I could pick a favorite per fandom maybe, but just straight up favorite?? I cannot. Of things written more recently, I'm very fond of Under My Skin (Steddie, exploring the possibility of Steve with physical scars). Of things written slightly less recently, I still have a complicated soft spot for We Have Surplus If We Need It

Gently tagging (if you've already done this, I'm sorry, just ignore me): @spiritofcamelot @ato-the-bean @puppy-steve @emchant3d @lexirosewrites

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Bring me a dream

Part 6: Poundcake and Custard

Masterlist

Pairing: The Corinthian x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, horror elements, body horror, manipulation, angst, oral f! recieving, PinV, dirty talk, corruption kink (Corinthian) , shy inexpereinced reader

A/N: Aaaaand, we're back with another chapter and an updated story outline! I've done it 😎 Hopefully I'll get another update out soon, for now, enjoy the angst and the cute little beans that are sweet dream and Corinthian ✨

(Also I think my taglist might be a little confused between chapters and interludes, so if you want to be on there/should be on there, just let me know 💕)

-🍰-

Corinthian felt like his entire world had been scattered into a gale force wind. As soon as he’d seen the alerts flash on his phone pinging for “no eyes” and “Corinthian”, he’d found himself in a blind panic, flurrying around and praying that you’d just answer your phone before you’d turned up to the club. But of course you just had to ignore his calls. 

He’d whipped himself into action immediately, he had fires burning under his feet, he was driving to the club before he could even think to wait for your answer. He knew that you ignoring him could only mean one thing. You’d run into the tortured soul that had had his eyes stolen from him and you were going to blame Corinthian for it. It was the only conclusion he could come to.

His hair whipped in the late night wind and he kept gulping down panicked breaths, taking every short cut he could think of while he thought of you. What would he say? Everyone on social media was already pointing their fingers at the infamous serial killer ‘The Corinthian’ and now you would be too. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t him. 

Why would he leave a victim alive? Why would he take their eyes before he killed them? It didn't track and it was obviously the shoddy workmanship of someone else. The real question was who?

Not that he had time for pondering on that. 

He eventually found himself hitting barriers, stuck in traffic that was sure to keep stuttering to a halt. He wouldn’t let that slow him down though, instead he turned off at the nearest parking sign and went running from there. Running. He really had lost his mind for you. 

He’d sprinted until his lungs burned, but eventually he’d made it. He found you. You were sitting on the sidewalk amongst a group of shaking and trembling souls, sitting in a similar state of distress as the others, stuttering and sinking into your friend like she was driftwood in a roiling ocean. It broke his heart to see you so upset.

He had to do something. He had to fix it. 

He approached you and Casey slowly, taking timid steps as if he were approaching a wounded puppy, and said your name softly, letting it drift over you both and break the miserable spell you were under. 

-🍰-

You heard your name cut through the night like an arrow and whipped your head up. You squinted through your tears only to see an all too familiar face sidling up to you. One you hadn’t expected to see.

The last man you wanted to see at that moment actually.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” he asked, bending down to meet you at your stoop. 

You backed away, burnt by his proximity and tugged on Casey’s arm, clutching her to you. Your body was on autopilot and you couldn’t help your reaction anymore. You needed to go back home and sit somewhere quiet where you could forget about the hurt and pain in the world and be amongst your baking equipment, living in your own little dreamland. 

“Hey, dude, maybe you should back off,” Casey growled, cinching her arms around you. 

“I don’t mean any harm, I just want to make sure she’s ok,” Corinthian murmured, “I tried calling, I saw the videos-”

“How did you know? How did you see the videos?” you snapped, feeling his words bring you back to sentience. 

“I just did, they were cropping up everywhere…I just… I made a promise to you and I wanted you to know I’ve been honouring it,” he stammered, losing his words for a surprising change. “I just came to make sure you were safe.”

Casey was looking between you both like you were insane, Corinthian was looking at you like a kicked puppy and you felt like you could do with ten pina coladas and a trip to the Bahamas. Were you going insane? Was this what happened to dreams that spent too long outside the dreaming? No. This was definitely just a you situation, you were sure of that. 

The cold kerbside was freezing through your skin and the wave of nausea was slowly passing. There was only so long you could spend sitting there dumbly getting looked at for answers from both of your companions and so you sighed and turned to Casey, knowing that getting away from the club could only be a good thing.

“This is…this is Cory,” you said, trying to rid her of her confusion.

She gawked and looked between you both a couple more times then frowned. You could only assume her brain was working overtime trying to come up with a couple million questions for you both. 

“Are you guys like…arguing or something?” She said, trying to figure out the situation.

“Or something,” you repeated, looking pointedly at Corinthian. 

“I get that you’re handling a lot right now, so why don’t I drive you both home and-“

“No!” You interrupted quickly, stopping him from possibly hurting you any further.

He still couldn’t come to your home. Especially not after all this. 

He clenched his jaw and you watched as his adams apple bobbed, his face transforming for a second before he nodded. He knew you’d be keeping your boundaries up in full force after this. That much you were sure of. 

“Why don’t I take you both back to my place and we can get away from all this,” he said softly.

You looked at him harshly, baring down with every shred of anger and disappointment that you had. It looked like it was working too, his pouty face was the picture of unhappiness. Like you’d shot him with your eyes. 

However you knew you couldn’t sit there forever and the last thing you wanted was to leave without knowing for sure if Corinthian had gone bad on his promise or if it truly was someone else. 

Could it be someone else? 

Could the man you loved do something so horrible? He’d done similar atrocities before, why not now? Though, you had to admit it didn’t track. It didn’t fit the rest of his crimes. Why would he suddenly deviate from his usual techniques just to freak you out? Would there be any pleasure from killing the wrong way according to his methods? 

What the hell had you gotten yourself into. 

“Well if you’re not gonna take him up on it, I am,” Casey said, eventually breaking the silence. “I don’t care what weird shit is going on, I want to get outta here.”

-🍰-

“It wasn’t me!” 

You sighed, staring through to the living room where Casey was helping herself to Corinthian’s decanters while you both argued quietly in his room. At least she had something to take some of the trauma away. Lucky thing. 

“How can I trust that?” You asked, running the bridge of your nose and silently closing the door over. “Why would someone bastardise your method like that? Why at the club that we met?” 

“Trust me when I say I’d love to find out just as much as you, sugar,” he growled. “That’s my name they’re shouting around the peanut gallery.”

You bit your lip and watched him carefully, following him with your eyes while he paced. He was restless. You’d never seen him like this. It was strange. Like watching a reliable old sweater come undone, he wasn’t the kind of man that panicked. 

Though, after thinking on it more, you realised he wasn’t panicking. No, he was angry. His carefully curated image being tarnished had his hands balled into fists, he was seething. Though, part of you was sure that there was more reason than that. You knew he was getting himself even more worked up every time he met your scrutinising glare. 

“Corinthian, answer me honestly. How did you know about the videos so quickly? I know that what happened tonight isn’t…it’s not- not the way you- uh do things. I just don’t understand how you knew,” you stammered, giving him a pleading look.

He stopped his pacing for a moment and walked over to you. His presence felt like an oncoming train. You took a step back and he froze in his place, looking just as guilty as if he’d hit a deer. 

“Please, don’t do that,” he begged quietly. “Surely I mean more to you than that.”

You stood in place for a second, staring him down. You felt like you could hardly breathe, like you’d been sucked into a vacuum. He meant everything to you. That was the exact reason you were so scared of him now. 

He might not be able to kill you, but he could hurt you more than anyone else could. And somehow, as you came to realise that, it was more terrifying than the possibility of anything else. 

“Please just answer the question.”

He sighed and rested his hands in his pockets, visibly crumbling in defeat. 

“I have alerts set up to notify me when my name’s mentioned in the news… I forgot about it, because I hadn’t had anything until tonight,” he said, pointedly looking at you. “ I saw the alerts and I called you straight away. I knew if someone was imitating me, it might mean that they were- they could be coming after you to get to me…”

“You think they’ve been stalking you?” you ask nervously.

“I don’t know what to think,” he answered honestly. “I’ve never…I’ve never worried for anyone else like this before.”

You inhaled, drawing in a sharp breath at his revelation. If Corinthian was scared, then you should be running terrified. This was the man that inspired fear and kept so many living in terror of his name, and now he was worried that something or someone might get to you while he’s not around. 

You shuddered to think of the kind of creature that Corinthian would be afraid of. 

“Corinthian,” you breathed, feeling yourself drawn to him again. 

He flicked his head up to meet your gaze, and suddenly it was like all the anxieties you’d had about him had melted away again. This was your Corinthian. You trusted him and most importantly, you depended on him, all because he had changed for you. 

“Corinthian I’m so sorry,” you said, voice breaking as you came to terms with everything you’d accused him of. “I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Sugar, we don’t have to do that,” he murmured, drawing close to you and taking ahold of your hands.

“I have to, I need to apologise,” you frowned.

“No, you don’t,” he sighed. “Just please believe me when I tell you I’ve changed. When I tell you that I’m done with all that, I mean it and I won’t go back on my word. I hate it when you doubt me…”

His tone alone was enough to send you crumbling and you were holding onto him like he was your anchor. Corinthian may have the shadiest past of anyone you’d encountered, but the man he was now was so much more than the nightmare you’d originally crossed paths with. And you hated seeing him so broken at the thought of your ire.

No more. 

You clasped your arms around him tightly and clenched your jaw in resolve, realising that you both needed to be a united front now. No more trying to keep things straight with each other while ignoring the glaring black hole that was threatning to destroy everything around you. You had to take down this imitator before anyone else got hurt. 

“I promise I’ll believe you,” you finally said, “I won’t doubt you again. We have to be strong now and we need to figure out who's done this and why.”

Corinthian brought his hand to the back of your head and stroked over your hair, being sure to kiss your forehead afterwards. For a moment it felt like things were as they usually were. It felt like you’d both just been a part of a crazy nightmare, a part of someone else's making and when you were both going to emerge from Corinthian’s room Casey would be safely tucked away at home and you’d both have something lovely that you’d made earlier to snack on before you crept back to the bedroom again.

Though, after amusing yourself with the thought, it really did make you wonder. A nightmare of someone else's making… It sounded like the perfect explanation. Afterall, who else would think to come after you, but another being from the dreaming. 

“Corinthian, do you know other nightmares?” 

He drew back from you and frowned, tilting his head ever so slightly. He only needed a moment to think, but clearly he soon reached the same conclusion as you. The way his eyebrows drew ever closer together confirmed it. 

“You think someone else from the dreaming is doing all this.”

It wasn’t a question.

“It makes sense right? Why would some random human decide to botch your method and then let the victim loose in the nightclub that we met in. It doesn’t have any meaning publicly, you never killed there before. It has to be someone that knows us, or someone that has some kind of grudge and I just think that’s more likely to be someone from your side than mine,” you explained, letting your eyes roam the room as you thought on it.

“Someone from my side?” Corinthian prompted, tilting his head further. 

“You know what I mean, a dream wouldn’t do this. Morpheus’ absence might’ve twisted things a bit, but dreams don’t rip people apart like that. Dream’s create vision, they don’t take it away. It had to be a nightmare.”

“Because nightmares are all so twisted?” Corinthian snorted.

You watched as his jaw clenched and felt your heart leaping, realising that you could probably put things more delicately after the conversation you’d just had a la trusting him. Though, you couldn’t completely drop it. You knew you were right, this was the work of a nightmare. You just had to figure out who and why. 

“It’s not that I think poorly of all nightmares, Corinthian. I just think that without a lord of dreams to guide them, nightmares can do more harm in the human world than any mislead dream. Nightmares are put out into the world to show humanity the worst and make them confront their fears, well what are they to do when it's not about that anymore? They do exactly what you did and you get lost in the role of humanity’s broken mirror and they stab and they cut because that’s all they know, that’s all you were taught by Morpheus, but instead of it being a harmless vision, its real lives,” you say, slowly tugging one of Corinthian’s hands out of his pocket and warming it with yours. “I don’t think you’re bad, In fact I know that you have so much capacity for good. I just know that without someone to be held accountable by, nightmares can easily slip and human lives become an exercise in how dark the world can be.”

Corinthian’s hand tightened in yours and he let his thumb rub over your hand in slow circles. The featherlight strokes were enough to let you know you got your point across loud and clear. Nightmares were to be feared for a reason, especially when left unchecked. Afterall, wasn’t it your influence that had stopped him from killing? What if this other nightmare didn’t have anything like that?

“You’re probably right…And the only way we can stop them is by finding them ourselves.”

You breathed in a choked gasp and finally it hit you that it really was only you two that could get to the bottom of the mystery. Which meant that you were going to have to confront a murderous nightmare head on and somehow find a way to subdue them. No big deal right? 

Well your body didn’t agree. You felt a tremor work through you and found yourself sitting on the bed so that you didn’t have to stand on shaky feet. Really who did you think that you were? The nightmare reformation centre? 

“Woah, sugar. Hey now, it’s ok. Just sit and breathe for a minute, sweets,” Corinthian said, rushing to your side and rubbing your back. “That’s it. In and out. In and out. In and out.”

After a minute of sitting and feeling like you were boiling alive, you finally brought yourself back to reality. Well, Corinthian did. You found yourself breathing on his shoulder like an old mare getting worked to death, but at the very least, he wasn’t angry with you for accusing nightmares of being the death of humanity. 

“This is way bigger than anything I've ever dealt with before,” you sigh, feeling the material of Corinthian’s jumper rub harshly against your flushed cheek. “I’m a baker for the gods’ sake, I make cakes and give people cute visions. I’m not Sherlock Holmes, I’m a treat pedlar!”

“Now, now, sugar. You can’t lose it right now with an eye thief on the loose,” Corinthian chuckled, bumping into your side. “You know you’re more than just a baker, you alleviate people’s stress and pain and you give them something to smile about. Hell, you make me feel like somethin special on days I feel like I want to fade away. You make me feel like I can contribute something to the world, even if that contributions just makin’ you happy, sugar.”

“Don’t say that! I can’t possibly be capable of all that!” you gasp, hiding your face in your hands. 

“It’s true! You don’t just bake cakes and create dreams about cute little cookie clouds and marshmallow rivers for the fun of it. You cheer people up and you give them something nice to think about in their lives that are full of complicated problems and crazy goals. People need somethin’ sweet to get them through the day and you provide that for them, in the dreaming and in real life,” he grins, kissing your cheek. “And now you just gotta help me find a rogue nightmare and convince them to stop carving out people’s eyes, easy fuckin’ peasy.”

You sigh and take your hands from your face, slowly coming to terms with what he was saying. You weren’t some low grade cookie trader, you were Artopta the baker. You were sent out into the dreaming to inspire happiness and put sweetness out into the world that was so full of bitter people. You could provide desserts and you could talk a nightmare down to stop coming after innocent humans. You were one of Morpheus’ oldest creations and you wouldn’t be beaten by someone that wanted to fill the world with fear and dread.

“Your speech was nice till you made our goal sound like a pipe dream,” you deadpanned, shoving Corinthian’s shoulder. 

“Well, what can I say? I at least had the decency to kill people before I took their eyes,” Corinthian reminded you. “Whoever we’re dealing with is a sadistic asshole and we can’t approach them lightly. There’s no telling what they’re capable of.”

You nodded your head gravely, knowing your companion was right. Whoever was doing this was more dangerous than even Corinthian’s worst self, and the danger they could pose was nothing to laugh at. You had to go into this knowing that people could get hurt and it was your desire to protect them and keep Corinthian’s name in the clear that would get you through this. 

You sighed and cleared your head, giving yourself a moment to process everything.

“So what now?” you asked finally, breaking your heavy silence with a breeze block of a question. 

“Well, how does one normally encounter a nightmare?” Corinthian asked, tilting his head toward you. 

“Oh gods…You mean- you’re talking about going to the hospital and jumping into this poor guy’s dreams aren’t you?”

Your body flooded with the realisation of what Corinthian was proposing and for a second you could’ve sworn the silence of the room had turned to live static. You were going to root around in this butchered boy's mind and hope to hit up a dangerous nightmare. There was no telling what you’d find once you were in there, be it the nightmare or other dark things that would haunt you both. 

“We just have to stick together no matter what,” Corinthian said casually, as if you were planning a trip to the local hedge maze. “Nothing can hurt us as long as we overpower them.”

“And if we get separated while we’re in there?”

“Then we leave the dream as soon as we realise we’re alone.”

“Oh gods…this is happening isn’t it?”

“Well, unless you want to relocate and hope for the best?” Corinthian asks, a wry smile breaking out onto his face.

“It’s sounding tempting,” you sigh, staring up at the ceiling and hoping Morpehus might descend down from the heavens and sort the whole mess out for you. “Though, I would hate for you to keep getting notifications of someone else's crimes.”

“That’s the spirit,” Corinthian grins, ushering you up from your depressed slump.

You come to a stand in front of him and as tempting as it is to flop back onto the bed like a useless pancake, you know what you have to do. You have to go be the responsible dream you are and fix this mess. Even if it meant marching all the way to the hospital on shaky knees with a heart that felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest, you would be successful. 

You take a second to wrap your arms around Corinthian and after breathing in his woodsy scent and bolstering yourself with his strong frame you start directing yourself to the door. With your brains and Corinthian’s brawn anything was possible, you thought to yourself. You were stronger than some malicious little imp with an eye fetish, you were an unstoppable team with a righteous mission. 

And you would not be deterred.

You opened the bedroom door and came face to face with Casey who stared up at you both like a newborn calf. Her eyes were hazy like a heat wave had hit them and her smile was crooked and wobbly. She was drunk. 

Perhaps you and Corinthian had made a mistake leaving her with the decanters while she was recovering from an emotionally traumatic event. You swore to yourself and grabbed the glass bottle out of her hands just as she was about to let it roll out of her fist and onto the floor and watched as she slumped unceremoniously in her seat.

“Casey?” you prodded, watching as she closed her eyes and settled on her side on the couch. 

“Just gimme a minute- just- ugh just gotta rest my eyes m’kay?”

So you wouldn’t be stopped… but maybe you’d be slowed. 

-🍰-

Eventually, after giving Casey a blanket and forcing her to drink a pint of water, you left Corinthian’s place with a mumbled excuse and a promise of being back later and found yourselves at the hospital. 

It was easy enough for you to both pass through the halls in the darkness. No one questioned your presence as you weaved through the halls with purpose and stuck to the shadows. Well, you’d been stopped once, but Corinthian smoothly explained away that you were consultants, very busy consultants, and you had to get to your next patient immediately. And that was that. You’d gotten away with it, despite feeling like your body was a walking gong and it was obvious you weren’t supposed to be there you’d made it. 

You soon found yourself in the lonely room of Gareth Heart - as his name indicated on his chart at the end of the bed. There was a sad forgotten bowl of pound cake and custard abandoned on his bedside table that had long grown a skin, and there was a flickering light in the en-suite that seemed to permanently alternate its strobing. 

It only made Gareth’s prone form look more ominous as his body was lit up at various intervals, the bandages illuminated in the poor light. The empty eye sockets were covered now, but you were still haunted by what you’d seen only hours before at the club. You could still hear his screams bouncing around in your ears and smattering onto the bare white walls around you. 

The chilling room didn’t serve your shaking nerves. Though, it had probably seemed like a beacon of hope to his family that had previously flooded into the room. The chairs had been dragged around and were still to be moved back, and it indicated to you that they would be coming back as soon as they were able. You and Corinthian only had so long before your presence would become known. 

“We need to get out of here as soon as possible,” you murmured, eyes glazing over the soggy bowl of cake. “There’ll be people in to check on him soon.”

“Agreed…you ready for this, sugar?” Corinthian asked softly, shades reflecting the bouncing light back to you.

You shrug, knowing that you’d never be ready to confront whatever was possibly lurking in this guy's head. Whatever was capable of blinding someone forever and setting them loose on a club full of people. You shivered at the thought and clutched tight to Corinthian, grabbing his hand with all of your paltry strength that you could collect in the moment. 

Even if you weren’t sure about your plan, he was. And that’s all that mattered. He’d keep you safe, you knew it. 

“Let’s do this,” you breathed, setting your hand on Gareth’s dewey forehead. “I’ll see you in there.”

-🍰-

You moved into Gareth’s dream as you normally would, you fell back into the inky darkness for a minute, and swam in its velvety depths before you found yourself emerging into a scene. It was the nightclub.

You could see the people moving around you like a thick swarm, partying like nothing was wrong, but you you felt clogged full of dread. The strobing red lights didn’t serve to give you any comfort, they just offset your heartbeat and made you antsy as you looked around, searching the room for anything of note.

“I prefer this place when you’re at the wheel.”

You jumped as Corinthian’s voice carried through the thick bassy music of the club and took a second to recover before grabbing onto his hand again, clutching his arm like you were a character out of scooby-doo. He might’ve been the one to give you the scare, but at least he’d save you from any others that were sure to be lurking around the cavernous house of horrors.

“Somehow I don’t think this is going to go like one of my visions,” you mumble, burrowing deeper into Corinthian’s side.

“Well it might not be all bad at least, look over there.”

You follow Corinthian’s free arm as he extends it out toward the crowd and soon enough your eyes settle on Gareth - who doesn’t appear to be reliving his torture much to your delight. He’s talking to a pretty girl and has a relaxed smile on his face. He looks laid back as he leans up against a pillar and talks away to her like its any other night at the club. 

“Huh…I kinda thought being here would mean he was having a nightmare. This almost seems like a dream?”

“Me too. Kinda makes me wonder what we should look for,” Corinthian muses, looking around the room as he says it. 

“I’m sure it’ll reveal itself to us…whatever it is,” you say, unconvincing to even yourself as you follow Corinthian’s gaze. 

After a solid minute of staring out into the crowd with no results, you shrug and give your partner’s arm a small tug, urging him to move forward with you and get a closer look. It was no use standing in the corner and hoping whatever oddity was there would reveal itself to you, you had to explore. You had to seek out more. 

“What’s that over there?” Corinthian finally asks, breaking your concentration. 

“Over where? Oh- huh.”

You squint in the direction that Corinthain points to and tilt your head watching as a shadowy figure stalks around amongst the crowd, parting them like he was a shark amongst a school of fish. He didn’t have to say anything or move in any particular way, he just sliced right through them. 

You couldn’t make out a face, only his tall figure as he stalked through the people. He was lanky, much taller than Corinthain even and he shuffled around lithely like a snake. You were both fascinated by the figure, completely drawn in by him as he drew closer to you both.

Then, just as you were about to ask what you should do, just as you might’ve caught a glimpse of his face as it closed into view, the scene changed. You weren’t in the club anymore. You were in a hospital room - much like the one you’d just been in. Though, there was no figure laying in the bed. The room was empty. 

“What happened?” you frowned, staring around the room like the walls might close in.

“He must’ve sensed something was off and his mind’s tried to shut whoever that was out,” Corinthian muttered, “We need to get back to that club. We gotta get a closer look at that guy.”

“I don’t blame him, I was getting the chills just looking at that guy,” you said through gritted teeth. “Question is - where is Gareth?”

Corinthian froze and looked around, noting the empty bed just as you did and then turning to the door over to your left. It was open, indicating you’d be able to leave the room and go in search of Gareth. You had to convince him to get back to the club, even if it meant trying to speak to him. Stressing him out would be worth it, as long as you could get back there and catch a glimpse of that shadowy figure.

You both walked toward the door, continuing to grasp onto each other’s arms. Nothing could separate you both, not when you were holding onto Corinthian like you wanted to snap him. 

So, when you both walked through the doorway, you both fell into the dark together, drowned in shadow. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

You both looked over to each other as you fell into the unknown and grasped the other tighter. Neither of you knew what was going on, neither of you could escape the manipulation. You were both succumbing to the unknown. 

Being back in the total darkness meant that you weren’t in Gareth’s head anymore, and you weren’t being released back into the world by his bedside either. You were stuck in limbo waiting to be taken into the dream of someone else entirely, and there was nothing you could both do as you fell back and landed in a new room, one that was all too familiar…

-💕-

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[atwooozi]

Almost Perfect (Sebastian x Fem!Farmer) Chapter 3: Friday

Warnings: Slow burn, personal struggles, anxiety, depression, eventual smut

Summary: It's Friday which means Angeline will be doing what she can to integrate herself with the townspeople of Pelican Town at the saloon. One of the things she so desperately wanted when she moved out here was to feel like she was part of something and hopefully that happens.

A/N: When writing this I kept going back and forth on whether I wanted to include characters from SVE and I decided plot-wise it would make a lot of sense for Sebastian's character arc. It might be a bit clumsy, but I'll try my best to include a majority of the characters where I think it makes sense.

READ ON AO3

Chapter 3: Friday

Spring 5

Angeline dusted herself off and checked her phone. It was 3:30, and she still had time before meeting Sam and his friends. He didn’t specify when Angeline should meet up with them but he mentioned them getting there around 5:30. Since she had been here Angeline had met a handful of people and while they were nice she was looking forward to meeting more people around her age. 

She had met Alex, and while he was handsome he made her feel so small. While she didn’t want to take it to heart she couldn’t help but be put off by him. When she told him her name he seemed to outright refuse to learn it, settling just for farmgirl. It felt dehumanizing. Not to mention Haley. Haley was stunning, like a model. However, Haley’s beauty couldn’t cover up the way she looked Angeline over and brushed her off when she tried to introduce herself. It made Angeline feel like she was back in high school all over again. 

At least Sam was nice. Who was she kidding? Sam embodied sunshine. He was pure goodness put into a lanky blonde. Angeline hoped his friends were the same. She couldn’t really handle the high school antics for a second time when she was teen that was more than enough for her. 

Angeline looked around her farm. She made quick work of it once Lewis and Robin left. She cleared what she could and while that wasn’t much given her rusty tools it was enough to plant her first batch of crops. She was proud of herself, truly. She wasn’t completely sure if she was going to make it three days before calling her dad, begging to be picked up. Maybe it was just out of spite that she was making so much progress, but she didn’t care. Angeline had kept plants in Zuzu and they did okay, but this was going to be her livelihood now she needed it to be perfect or at least worth the effort she put in.

Angeline put her tools away and went inside her cabin, grabbing her makeup bag and some toiletries to freshen up a bit at the spa. She couldn’t believe that her grandpa did this every day. She had never felt so sore in her life. As she made her way up north she spotted the man that lived in the yellow tent near Robin’s house. She gave him a small wave and he hurried off in the opposite direction when they made eye contact. Angeline frowned, aside from Lewis, Robin, Sam, and Marnie everyone else felt stand-offish (at least of the few that she met) like back in Zuzu. She stopped herself, it hadn’t even been a full week yet she couldn’t give up yet. She was new, and a new person wasn’t necessarily something that happened in Pelican Town often. They would warm up to her. She would have friends and she was going to make this work. She had to.  

~*~

Angeline made her way to townsquare and took in the scenery. A general store, a clinic, and a saloon all within a few feet of each other. Angeline liked it, in Zuzu if she wanted to hit up the grocery store, her doctor’s office, and a decent restaurant she would take at least two different trains not even including the train she would need to take, plus, the 15 minute walk that she would then need to take from the station to her apartment. 

Angeline was about to check out the bulletin board when she bumped into someone. 

“Oh I’m so sorry.” The red head gaped. “I was just trying to look at the calendar. “ 

Angeline shook her head and smiled at the girl. She looked a bit like Robin. Was this Maru? “My name is Angeline. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“I’m Penny.” The red head smiled and held out her hand. Okay, so not Maru. Just another red head. Not all red heads are related, Angeline. 

Angeline smile and shook Penny’s hand. Her hand was slim and a bit cold. Penny was pretty. Angeline could picture Penny being the star of one of those cheesy rom-coms where the jaded-city business exec tries to buy up a historical building to place condos in the quiet town, but Penny would win them over with her charm and down-to-earth feel. 

“I should be going. I still need to get this one home.” Penny gestured and looked towards a boy with strawberry blonde hair. Are they related? Angeline couldn’t really tell if she was going just by hair then it was definitely a maybe. 

Angeline nodded, “Have a nice night. It was nice meeting you Penny.” 

Penny smiled and gave a small wave, leading the small boy away towards what she believed was Sam’s house. Were they all related? 

Angeline shook her head. That didn’t matter right now, she made her way into the saloon. It felt cozy despite how large the building was. The wood and the fire made the bar feel warm and inviting. 

For the second time someone had bumped into her. She quickly shuffled away from the door and looked over her shoulder to see a guy with somewhat stringy hair and a five o’clock shadow. He looked tired and maybe a bit sad? 

“I’m sor–” Before she could even get here apology out the guy brushed past her and made his way to the far corner of the bar. 

Angeline sighed and made her way to the bar. The people of Pelican Town have been a bit of a mixed bag. She felt like maybe she was putting too high of expectations on the people here, but so far she felt alone if not more alone than she felt in the city. She felt herself tearing up and her body began to tremble. Her anxiety was starting to get the best of her. Maybe moving out here was a mistake. Before a tear could fall Angeline felt a hand reach out over her own. She looked up to see a woman with striking blue hair and matching blue eyes. 

“I can read your face,” she smiled warmly. “You’re going to love it here.” 

I am? Angeline swallowed her anxiety back and returned the smile she had been given. “I hope so.” 

“I know so.” The woman replied with a firm nod. “My name is Emily. If you’re ever looking for something to do come by the saloon. I’m always here.” 

Angeline nodded, “I’m Angeline.” She let out a deep breath. “Can I have some water, please?” 

“Of course!” Emily smiled and quickly served her a glass. 

Angeline drank her water and scanned the room, before she could find something to focus on a hand clapped her on the back. “Angeline!” She straightened and turned to see Robin with a tall man standing behind her. 

“I’m glad you came!” She turned towards the man behind her. “This is my husband, Demetrius.” 

Demetrius gave a slight nod and a small smile as a greeting. “How’s the farm? Are you getting used to the slow pace of the valley?” 

Angeline shrugged and gave a polite smile. “It’s a little overwhelming but I’m doing my best.” 

Robin smiled and nodded. “Oh good.” She sighed, “ I wish we brought Maru– our daughter. She’s been anxious to meet you.” 

Demetrius cut in. “She is quite busy though with all her work, so it will have to be a different day.” 

Robin nodded and gave a small frown before brightening a bit. “But you can at least meet my son, Sebby, I mean, Sebastian, he’s a bit shy but he’s a good boy.” When Sebastian was mentioned a complicated expression that Angeline couldn’t quite read spread over Demetrius’s face as he stepped away to socialize with Lewis. 

Robin frowned as she watched Demetrius step away but she turned back to Angeline with a smile. “He should be in the game room with his friends.”

Robin nodded towards the room off to the right. “Go say hi. Sam, Abby, and Victor are sweet kids, too.” with some light cajoling from Robin Angeline made it to the game room. She peeked her head in and she felt three sets of eyes fall on her. 

“... Like I was saying, you should totally think about being our drummer Abs.” Sam said, “Maybe you, too, Victor. Do you play anything?”  When Sam looked up from the pool table at Abigail and Sebastian he followed their line of sight and immediately straightened. “Angeline! I was worried you weren’t going to come.” 

Angeline took a step into the game room towards Sam and waved shyly at Abby and Sebastian. “Hi I’m Angeline. I just moved here from Zuzu. I-I’m taking over the old farm.” she said in a voice that didn’t feel like her own. It felt softer and scared than what she was used to. She felt like she was intruding on an already tight-knit friend group. Sam was very welcoming and friendly, but the energy that Sebastian and Abigail gave was intense and a bit intimidating. She looked over towards the arcade cabinets and gave a small smile to the other young man in the gameroom. She wasn’t sure if he was also friends with the others, but he felt far less intimidating than the violet and raven haired pair on the opposite side of the room. Robin said shy when describing her son and sweet when talking about Sam, Abby, and Victor, but all she could feel was her own anxiety. Angeline pushed some hair behind her ear to soothe her nerves but she felt small under their stares like how she did with Alex and Haley.

Abby got up from her seat on the couch and walked over to Angeline. “Hey I’m Abigail, but you can call me Abby.” 

“Hey” Angeline said softly. 

“I always liked exploring the fields of the old farm, but I guess it’s cool that you’re taking over.” 

Angeline smiled and gave a shrug, “It’s still a bit overgrown in some spots, so you can still explore whenever.” 

Abby returned Angeline’s smile and led her to the couch. “Really?” 

Angeline nodded. “Yeah sure.” Maybe Abby was sweet she just seemed a little guarded at first?

~*~ 

Angeline had really loosened up as she spoke with Abigail and with Sam and Victor, the man standing near the games, interjecting every now and then. Sebastian however only spoke to Abby and Sam, though. He didn’t even seem to care that Angeline was there. He only focused on his pool game with Sam or would look Abby’s way to answer a question or quip at either of his friends. He seemed nice when speaking with them, funny even. Angeline couldn’t help but think that maybe she had done something to upset him. She didn’t know what it could be but she must’ve done something. Perhaps it was the fact that she was there in the first place? Friend groups were tricky and introducing someone new was never an easy thing. It felt apparent given that the group didn’t interact much with Victor either despite him seeming so kind.  

Angeline studied Sebastian as he lined up his shot, she never knew of someone being so shy that they just ignored a person’s existence. Of course anything was possible but was that truly the issue that Sebastian was having with her? She wasn’t sure. All she knew is that him icing her out completely made her feel on edge. 

Angeline checked the time, it was 9:20. “I should get going” she said as she stood up. 

“Already?” Sam pouted. 

“Yeah I have to get up at 6. Farm work.” Angeline lamented. 

“That sucks.” Abby frowned. 

“It was nice meeting you Angeline.” Victor gave her a kind smile. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Angeline returned Victor’s smile and shrugged at Abby. “It is what it is.” She walked towards the door. “Thanks for the nice night. Goodnight Sam, Abby, Sebastian, Victor.” She waved and made her way out of the saloon and to her farm. Aside from a few hiccups Angeline felt that maybe she would be okay. She hoped Emily was right that she’d love it here.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

I know you're primarily doing Bumbleby, but ever since the Big Cat RWBY post where Cheeta!Ruby and Snow Leopard!Weiss where introduced, I kept wondering about what Animal!JNPR would look like.

Rather than giving them feline dopplegangers as well, my mind instead kept returning to canines, domestic dogs specifically.

Dog!Jaune would a Golden Retriever, because obviously. He'd be owned by Pyrrha before she came to the zoo/animal reserve Jaune works at. Picked up as something of a runt from the litter, and the only male pup amongst all the sisters because why not.

Dog!Pyrrha would be something that looks imposing but would only be dangerous if provoked or goaded, maybe something like a Rottweiler. Or better yet, a Dobermann! Dobermanns are fiercely loyal to their owners and are known to bond with one person only. Owned and cared for by Jaune after he found her in an dank alley with, of all things one could expect, an arrow in one of her back legs.

Arkos happens by chance when both Jaune and Pyrrha are taking their dogs out for a walk in the local park. There's a whole meet-cute scenario that brings the two together and bish-bash-bosh, both Jaune and Pyrrha end up with a significant other they each believe to be out of their league.

Dog!Nora can't really be anything else but a Samoyed. Sure, it'd be funny to have her be like a massive wolfhound or something, but I think the Samoyed is basically perfect. Nora's boisterous, active energetic and playful and so is the Samoyed. If you can keep a handle on her, she's incredible to have around.

Dog!Ren on the other hand was harder to pick. After some searching however, I managed to come across the Chuandong Hound. They're described, among other things, as noble, loyal, and dignified. All of that describes human!Ren quite well I'd say. They're also protective of the people they care about and are known to stand guard if strangers come up to their owners, only to lower their alertness if their owners are fine with them.

Dog!Ren and Dog!Nora would both be owned by an established Renora couple. When they adopted them as pups, Nora named them like that on a whim because she thought it was hilarious. She still thinks it's funny now, now that the dogs are all grown up.

All four dogs, despite their vastly different personalities seem to mesh incredibly well when they all meet each other for the first time. The same goes for their owners but that's to be expected really.

Anyhow, whether you decide to do something with this or not, I just needed to get this out.

Big Cat AU is 100% funny, fluffy and lovely by the way, definitely hope to see it come back from time to time.

Whew! This was a long one for me to go through, so I apologize for the delay here.

I like the idea of Pyrrha being a doberman! But maybe keep the ears floppy instead of cropped for her. Adds to her wanting to be "normal".

Jaune is definitely a Golden boy, but I don't see him being one of the AKC purebread floof boys. No, I want him to be the shaggy, dark blonde slender boys. They have more charm.

Nora.... I have to disagree with the Sammy. I can honestly see her being a Terrier. Specifically a Jack Russel Terrier. Those little crackheads are so loving, but absolutely crazy when they get into hunting mode. Considering her backstory, I can see her being a terrier mix.

Ren's definitely works! Never heard of a Chuandong Hound before, but I can definitely see it. Otherwise maybe a black and brown Chow Chow.

I'll have to do the Dog Days AU in a different post, but I'll try to do one soonish! I just need to get an idea. If you think of a prompt before I do, shoot me an ask!

(Funny thing is: I'm not that big of a cat fan. I'm a dog person, so the fact that I'm writing a Big Cat AU is hilarious for me! I'm glad you're enjoying it though! I enjoy writing up blurbs for it.)

[sio-writes]

Botanist's Guide - Chapter 12

<<Chapter 11 (NSFW)

<<< Chapter 1

Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. Too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

Looking into the microscope I see exactly what I should be seeing: The box-like cell structure of a plant, no different than one I'd see on Earth. It's sage, so crushing it between the slides released it's earthy aroma, and now my whole station smells like the greenhouse, but that's not a complaint. 

Mutations are non-existent, cell walls look good, chlorophyll is bright green. I check off the Salvia officinalis box on my laptop as well as transfer any notes from my head to the computer, and then I pick up the next slide. 

Lactuca Satvia, iceberg lettuce, also looks like every slide I've made. No mutations, it's bright green that fades into a white at the stalk, and if it weren't currently doing a job for science, I'd definitely add it to a salad. I note it down right next to the sage, humming something off-key as I do. Maybe I'll grab a salad for lunch. 

There's only a few more slides to go through, I'm making great time today. My mp3 player crapped out on me, a victim of getting slammed against the wall the other day. I have a little funeral planned, which just consists of putting her into the garbage cube-maker thing. If I had funeral music to play I would, but…well.

It's absence has left the lab deathly silent, but I think my coworkers are thankful for it. At least, no one's said otherwise. The change in pace has kept me focused, a good thing for today with so much technical work to get done. Staying on task is my number one priority.

And Jillie won't stop staring at me.

All day now, she's been throwing me glances, flat out staring me down, she even sent a paper note over. I've been pointedly ignoring her in favor of digging into my work, with huge success on my end. I'm apparently very good at my job when I'm avoiding something else.

I'd tried the silent treatment when the door first opened-- two hours later!-- but once she started crying I felt too bad to keep up the charade. Then she'd shoved these nasty granola bars and an ice-cold water in my face, and I ate only to appease her and not because I'd skipped dinner to head back to the lab in the first place. Besides, a few minutes of pretending to be mad told her what I needed it to, and it was about all I could handle anyway. She's my friend, I can't be mad at her for trying to hook me up. But I can pretend to withhold the information to torture her for a few days. Just a little. 

The first day back had been the worst of her prying. Kri had decided to keep up his schedule of only showing up once a week, giving her permission to blabber away.

"So. Is it big?"

"Hand me the pipettes, please."

"Aw come on! At least tell me if he was good!"

"Pipettes. Please."

But Kri is here today, thank god, so her barrage of questions has stopped for now.

Eventually I will share, because I want to, but Kri and I didn't actually talk about anything. He didn't wake me up after ten minutes like I'd asked him to, instead the shrill metal of the door sliding open is what woke me up. And then Jillie rushed in with her terrible food, and we all went home. It felt particularly anti-climactic compared to the heated confession and fucking. 

Part of me is hopeful, but it's nearly drowned out by the cynic in me. Until we parted ways, Kri kept constant contact with me-- a steadying hand on my back, an arm around my waist, and once, for a glorious moment as Jillie walked out ahead of us, he interlaced our hands together and squeezed my fingers. I think my heart actually leapt into my throat, and then he was walking away without a goodbye.

It's left this…whatever we have going, undefined and hazy. We exchanged pleasantries this morning, but that was all, and it's been nothing but work since. I'm not picking up any anger or malice, but it's also awkward as hell, especially with an extra set of blue eyes watching my every move. "Ignore us Jill, but hey Kri, remember when we fucked? That was great, wanna do it again? On a regular basis?" 

It's not like I can call or text him, I don't have a phone that connects to Summanus' sat-system. Just the chunky brick they gave at landing that connects to the handful of satellites we ground out of the military's original plan. I don't know where Kri lives, either, and they don't have any kind of directory in English. But it's not like Kri's made any moves either, and he actually knows where I live.

I sigh through my nose as I prep the next set of slides. Maybe I'm making excuses, flimsy reasons to keep this going as a casual thing instead of what I'd hoped it would be, what I want it to be. But we need to talk, hands down. Because not knowing is driving me crazy. 

Stealing a glance at Kri is easy, just pretend to hold the slide to the light. I simultaneously want to catch his attention as well as have him keep ignoring me so I can keep staring like a creep. There's things I hadn't picked up on before, small details. The line of his shoulders, the angles of his wings. He's still so pretty under the lights with the flecks of opalescent color in his plating, but it feels like I'm seeing him in an entirely new light. Has something in my brain switched?

The cosmos grants me a favor when Jillie walks to the bathroom. Immediately, I step away from my desk and towards Kri.

"Hey," I say. 

I probably should've thought of something to say.

"Hello," he says, resting his hands on his lap and giving me his full attention. "Is everything alright?"

I fidget with my coat, trying not to remember how it felt to take off for him. "Can we--Can we talk?"

He glances sideways at the bathroom door, then back to me. "Right now?"

I've come to realize that Kri isn't cagey like I once thought, he's just intensely private. He doesn't broadcast things, doesn't offer information like I do, isn't loud or boisterous. He flies under the radar a lot, and I think it's on purpose. 

"Later," I assure him. "Later-- um, do you wanna-- I mean, would you mind, maybe--"

As I talk and fidget, Kri stands from his chair and steps up to me. He grabs my face gently between two hands, and tilts my head up to his, both thumbs tracing lines over my cheeks.

"Would you like to talk over dinner?"

"That's a--" I clear my throat, and Kri's eyes crinkle as he smiles. "Sounds great."

His fingers are soft and warm, thumbs tracing over my cheek again, and his gaze falls to my lips. 

Nothing's been set in stone, but this, and the reminder of everything else, makes me want something solid. Something real, tangible.

I've tried to think about what I want to say, but I've never been good at stringing words together. I'm more a woman of action than speaking, I'd rather just push Kri against the desk and kiss him until my lips bleed.

We lean closer together, almost kissing, until the sound of a soft 'ahem' makes us jump apart, and we both turn to the source of the noise. In the doorway, Jillie has the biggest, shit-eating grin on her face.

My jaw works on several starting noises, but none make their way out. I wind up looking like a fish.

She holds up her hands, placating. "Hey don't let me interrupt." And sits back at the countertop as if nothing happened.

Heat rises to my cheeks, even more so when I hear Kri softly chuckle behind me as he steps back to sit down. I grumble back to my desk, and Jillie's pointed looks burns a hole through my spine. But we work through the next thirty minutes without issue. It's boring as shit, and the tension in the air makes my leg bounce up and down.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, I'm ready to burst. I'm going to explode.

"I'm holding a funeral for Emmie."

The two of them look to me, but their expressions couldn't be further apart. Kri looks shocked, genuinely concerned that I have a deceased friend, and Jillie's look is flat, very much done with my shit. 

"Your mp3 player, really Cass?"

Kri's expression resolves into understanding, and then falls to match Jillie's. "Hardly grounds for a funeral."

I chew on my bottom lip and stare at the floor. "Yeah the, uh, the screen cracked." I pull Emmie out of my back pocket, where she usually lives, and display her in my cupped palms like a baby bird. Behind Jillie, Kri sucks in a breath, but says nothing. Jillie either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because she scoffs, smiling.

"You're so dramatic."

I pocket Emmie again, my brows pinching in mock-offense. "She was a member of this family!"

"It was outdated before your grandparents were born!"

"She was reliable," I hold my hand to my heart, and wipe away a tear. "Three thousand songs, no internet required. Now I have to find something else."

"God forbid you talk to us instead."

I hold my sordid expression. "No one here understands me."

"You listen to your sad music too much, hun."

"It is rather whiny," Kri chimes in, and I shoot him a dirty look over Jillie's shoulder. He shrugs.

"You're both bullies, I'm putting in for a transfer," I say very mildly as I grab the next slides.

"Good," Jillie sniffs. "You can smooch it up in someone else's lab."

As slowly and dramatically as possible, I turn to her. "I'm sorry, who stuck us in a room for three hours?"

"Two, you drama queen."

"At least Kri likes me," I say and Jillie shoves my shoulder.

"One of us has to."

Our shoulders shake as we hold back laughter, and for the first time all day, I feel light. Like a seal has been broken and released all the pressure in the room.

Jillie doesn't stare at me anymore, instead she focuses her efforts on the experiment, and even hums a few songs to break up the silence. We hit a flow again, something that's been sorely lacking the past few weeks, and zoom through the required tests. Despite the crushing quiet, it's been nice to sink into a routine that we both know, stepping around each other like a dance.

I keep my eye-contact down to a minimum, because my thoughts will scatter to the wind again. And it's hard enough reigning them in even when I'm  focusing on my work. Looking at Kri only makes me think of the other day, and then what may happen later. It opens up a question that I desperately need an answer to, but won't get until later. But I need it now, and the anxiety of not knowing is ramping up my anxiety to a twelve.

We all break for lunch, the three of us walking to the cafeteria. Jillie and I snag a booth with our food, and Kri splits off. I look around to see if I can find him in the mess that is the food prep stations, but I don't see him. He chose to eat by himself those first few days, a habit that carried over even when Jillie was out sick, but I wish he'd sit with us now. 

Turning back to the booth, I accidentally make eye-contact with Jillie. The flame of curiosity is back in her eyes, and I shrink down in my seat. I suppose it's time to end her suffering.

"This is killing me," she says. "Are you guys a thing now?"

She looks so excited, so hungry to hear about everything. I push out a sigh. "I have no idea. We didn't talk about it."

Leaning back, Jillie's face falls into an impressed expression, and I fail to suppress a responding smile. Jillie slaps her palms on the table and barks out a laugh. "I knew it!"

"Shush!" I hiss, reaching over as if the motion would quiet her. "Not so loud."

Jillie's eyes are glittering as she reaches for my hands across the table. "You have to tell me everything."

In as many words, I try to surmise the evening, from the fight to falling asleep, with Jillie interjecting with questions every now and then. Some details I keep to myself, I'm allowed some secrets, but Jillie's my best friend. We try to eat in between, but eventually wind up setting down our food to focus on conversation.

I finish with her opening the door, and she squeezes my hands. "So where should I disinfect? The countertop? The floor? The shower in the bathroom?"

"He held me against the wall," I say, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Ooh, standing?"

I shake my head, and her look of realization is priceless.

"You have to tell me how big he is."

I groan to the ceiling. "I wish I knew. I couldn't see it."

"Then you gotta look again, hun!"

Leaning back, I grab my water bottle and take a swig. "He did invite me to dinner."

Jillie nods sagely. "You're definitely gonna get some tonight, then."

I open the wrapper for my salad and mull it over as I pour the dressing on. "I don't know if I want to. At least not tonight. I was hoping we'd talk instead."

"Talk?"

I nod. "We didn't do much talking-- shut up-- so now I don't know what this is. Friends-with-benefits? Something serious? And what do I even want? What does he want from me? What is he--"

"Cass, calm down. Nothing's happened yet."

"That's the problem! I don't know what's going on."

Jillie scrunches her face, her head falling to one side. "Then ask him?"

I plop my cheek into my palm, squishing my face on one side. "Not like we've had time."

Jillie offers me a sympathetic look. "Maybe you need to be more upfront. Instead of making out while I'm in the bathroom, you have a little chit-chat. I can disappear for a while."

"We already agreed on dinner," I say, smiling.

"You sure?" She raises her eyebrows. "You just say the word, and I'm gone for fifteen to twenty minutes."

I shake my head again, filled with warmth that she's so insistent. I am anxious about it, but things can wait. It's not worth putting the experiment on hold for. Besides, the lab is hardly a romantic setting to have a serious conversation.

With a deciding nod, Jillie starts to clean her space, and I'm short to follow behind. The rest of the day runs as planned, no interruptions. Jillie stays in her seat, and I'm not thrown into a panic.

I'm actually looking forward to dinner with Kri. The restaurants here are okay, and there's even a few with that warm, low, romantic lighting that's perfect for dates. And honestly, I'm more excited to spend time with Kri. A small, girlish part of me wants to go home to freshen up, make myself look nice instead of the lab rat I must resemble.

All three of us head out of the building, Jillie heading west, Kri and I heading south. The restaurants are all in the northern quadrant by the Capitalism District, there's none in this direction. The only thing this way is housing.

I fake nonchalance as we walk. "So, where're we headed?"

"The…" he trails off, frowning and speaking slowly like he's testing out the words. "Food storage facility."

I raise an eyebrow. "The grocery store?"

He looks down at me, concerned. "Is that okay?"

The grocery store is closer to a MiniMart or a gas station. A handful of isles of instant meals, comfort foods, and frozen produce shipped from Earth. But there's also the ento-run store to the east with more selection. It's open to the public, but everything is labeled in Universal, and I have no idea what's good or not, so I've been too intimidated to go on my own. "Which store?" I ask.

"The eastern building, I just need to pick up a few items."

I feel my stomach grumble. "And food after?"

"I was hoping to cook for you," he says, wings fluttering. "If that's alright."

I haven't had anyone cook for me since I visited my parents. Warmth settles in me, not quite arousal, but something else, something heavier. Kri wants to cook for me.

"That'd be awesome."

The walk to the grocery store runs through another block of buildings, all of them painted in subdued, warm tones. They're all short, maybe three stories at the tallest, and the terrain reminds me of a seaside strip mall-- laid brick and cobblestone. I've only ever been to this side once on a tour, this is where it turns into culture and arts. 

The store is nestled at the bottom floor of a deep red building, a carved out space that may have once been a multi-vehicle garage. Inside are several rows of foodstuffs, some packaged, some open. There's an assortment of fruits that I have no idea the names of as well as what look like a few rows of packaged instant ramen. Some things are universal, I suppose. 

The store is empty, so it's just the two of us looking through the isles. I wander the isles while Kri picks up several fruits. He grabs a plum-sized blue seed, a handful of bean pods the size of my finger, and two green vegetables that look like potatoes. I'm examining the isle of drinks, wondering what tastes like what, when Kri grabs my attention.

"Would you prefer sweet, or savory?" He holds up two nearly identical looking spheres that look like dark red coconuts. I walk up and pretend to inspect them, humming as I think. I have no idea what he's doing, but I appreciate that he's including me. 

"What do you like?" I ask. 

"It's your decision."

I blink at him. "But I don't know what you're cooking. What's easier for you?"

Kri regards me, head tilted, and puts the coconut in his left hand back on the pile. He doesn't say anything, remaining silent as he grabs several other things, all the while catching glimpses of me as he does. I sidle up to him as the cashier bags his stuff.

"What'd ya go with?"

The cashier extends one long arm and hands Kri his things, and Kri quickly closes the bag so I can't see inside. "You'll have to find out."

I balk. "No fair!"

He smirks at me sidelong. "You insisted it was my decision."

"But I need to know the results."

"You will."

***

Kri’s apartment isn’t far from the store. I have to wrestle one of the grocery bags out of his grubby hands so I can I carry it and feel useful as we wind around buildings and cross a few streets. We walk quietly, not quite awkward enough for my reflexive talking to kick in, but I feel the need to fill the space simmering under my skin.

I want to say something. I should probably say something. It's only fair, and would help my anxiety so much more than waiting. 

We wait in the elevator to his floor and I need to say something. We're approaching his place and I need to speak up, but I say silent.

It's too much, it would break this easy flow. The timing isn't right and god damn it, we're already at his door. 

Stepping through the doorway feels simultaneously like jumping off a cliff and nothing at all. I'm aware of how huge this feels, my stomach lurches and my hands go clammy, but I'm also aware of the world continuing to turn around me. This doesn't feel real, but I want to grab at it with both hands and take it before it disappears.

Kri flicks the lights on, and I don't know what I expected, but a mirror of my own place wasn't it. This building is supposed to have the nicer layouts, with actual bedrooms instead of a studio layout. It's not surprising though, us Earth scientists are about as creative as socks for Christmas when it comes to designing buildings. I hope Kri isn't paying extra.

Everything is scaled up for someone of Kri's size, and there's a massive cloth hammock where the bed should be that's piled high with pillows. Along the living room wall on the right are shelves of books, interspersed with plants of various sizes that hang down almost to the floor. To the left of the sliding glass door to the balcony is another bookshelf, with a screen and speakers, and the light reflects off several picture frames that flick through a few photos.

Giving in to my base urge to be nosy, I set my bag on the kitchen counter and wander over to the television set. Under the coffee table is an ornate looking rug that's definitely too expensive for my apartment, and I try to tip-toe around it to avoid leaving any dirt, when something catches my eye.

In the corner, on a bottom shelf, is a taxidermied rat on a tiny skateboard. It's in the middle of popping an ollie, sitting in the center of some kind of ceramic crown of Summanian flowers. The frame above it swipes to a new photo, and in my peripheral I see Kri

My anxiety flares, and I turn away from the shelf of picture frames and other memories. Focusing my attention on something else is all I can do not to feel like a trespasser here, and I wander to the kitchen where Kri is grabbing several items from the fridge. The feeling of inadequacy swells, gelatinous and without form, and I try to push it down. It squishes between the bars of my mind, an imprint reflected back at me that tells me I’m not welcome here.

Instead, I step up to Kri and wrap my arms over his waist. The chitinous plating covering his body draws lines over his form that lead my fingers to his front, and I lean into his frame. Even bent over, my arms are level with his waist, and when he straightens, it pushes my face into his wings. Their whole structure is split into two sets, the bottom that folds open like a fan, and the top shaped like a dragonfly’s wing. They’re cool under my cheek, catching the light and shimmering.

“Yes?” He asks, two hands coming to pat mine.

I sigh heavily against his back, trying to sort my thoughts and coming up short. Taking my silence for an answer, Kri turns in my arms and cups my face in his lower hands.

“Am I not paying you enough attention?” He teases gently, running a free hand over my head. “Because I’m trying to provide you with a meal.”

Shame wells up behind my anxiety, hot and present, and I puff my cheeks and stare at a spot on his shoulder. I know talking is the right choice here, but my head is too much of a mess to talk about anything. 

Ignoring the swirling feelings in my gut, I push up on the balls of my feet and press our lips together. He hums, a surprised note deep in his throat, as the hands gently cupping my cheeks firmly hold me and he pushes back. It’s a different kiss than the first one, softer, sweeter, holding promise. He’s slow to lick in my mouth, but it adds heat that reminds me of the passion of last week. He can pick me up and set me against the wall, can hold me with two arms and work me over with the other two.

I push my tongue into his mouth, wanting to make up for the interrupted kiss earlier today. My lips slot against his and he hums another satisfied note as he skims his tongue against mine and starts exploring my mouth.

I want more of this, I want this all the time. I can’t imagine giving up the way he slots so perfectly against me, like a puzzle piece I didn’t realize I was missing.

Kri pulls away from my mouth with a pained sound, but I can hear the smile in his voice. "I thought you wanted to talk first."

I lean into him and push my lip out in a pout. "Changed my mind." 

And then he smiles against my lips and pushes forward again. It's so easy to give in, like falling into a soft bed. I'm surrounded by comfort and warmth. 

Taking the lead, Kri steps me over to the counter and, without breaking the kiss, picks me up by the waist and lifts me onto the countertop. The ease that he picks me up makes me feel hot, and I moan softly against his lips before Kri pulls away. 

"What would you like to--" 

"Anything you want," I breathe. "What do you want?" 

Kri laughs, low and dangerous. "From you? Everything."

He leans forward to kiss me again, but the silence of the room makes my growling stomach practically echo against the walls, and Kri's hands stop halfway to my chest.

"You need to eat," he says, smiling. 

With that, he straightens, hands smoothing down my hair, and turns away from me and back into the kitchen.

"What would you like to drink? I have water, and I'm quite fond of Earth's orange juice."

I snicker. "Orange juice is actually more of a breakfast drink."

Kri presses his lips together and looks away, wings fluttering. "I also have lifrit juice, and wegol soda."

I hop down from the countertop and walk around the island to a stool. It's tall enough that when I sit, my legs swing freely. It's been a long while since my feet haven't hit the floor, it makes me feel like a kid again. 

Humming, I tap my fingertips over my lips. I'm not sure what those last two were, and I'm up for trying something new, but I also want tonight to mean something. It feels important that everything go right. "What would go with tonight's meal?"

He perks up at that. "I may have something," And starts rooting around in his lower cabinets. I hear him knocking about lots of metal objects-- pots and pans maybe, before he straightens, holding a bottle of wine.

"Is this acceptable?"

I drag the bottle closer and spin it around to get a look at the label. It's a Sauvignon blanc from a few years back, unopened. What a random thing to have in his cabinet. "Why do you have this?"

"I bought it to sample the taste, but never got the chance," he says as he roots around in the drawers. He opens a few before finding the little corkscrew opener and hands it to me. The bottle pops open easily, and I pour it into the two glasses Kri sets out for me. I bring the glass to my lips and sip at it while Kri watches and mimics me. I'm not super into wine-tasting but this one is good, it would pair well with a fancy meal. 

The face Kri makes after he sips is the same face I make when Jillie orders tequila shots, and I have to be careful not to inhale my drink. Kri immediately sets his glass down and shakes his head.

I hide my smile behind my glass. "Not a fan?"

"That is quite awful," he says with a shudder.

I take another sip of mine and then swirl the glass because I feel fancy. "It's pretty dry, you may be a fan of the sweeter stuff like Moscato. That one tastes like ginger ale."

Kri eyes my glass and purses his lips, skeptical, "I'll take your word for it."

As he turns back to the stove, I tip the remnants of his drink into my own, nearly filling the glass to the brim. Drinking on an empty stomach is a bad idea, especially if I'm going to need to find my way home later, but if I take little sips instead of trying to gulp it down like I usually do, I think I'll manage.

I watch Kri as he cooks, sitting on the opposite end of the countertop island to stay out of his way. As always, he's graceful in what he does, even with his back to me. All four hands doing something different, always switching focus and lasering in on it, not a single mistake is allowed, and absolutely hypnotizing to watch. 

"You're an alien of many talents," I say, and he glances at me over his shoulder.

"How do you mean?"

"I didn't know you could cook."

"Oh, I quite enjoy it. I can make you all manner of things."

I ignore the flutter in my stomach at the idea of him making me food regularly, and try to peer around him as he works. "What's your favorite thing to make?"

"Lepsc'it, it's a fried Trokk root stuffed with vegetables and spices. It's very easy, only a few ingredients, and there's many varieties all over the globe."

"Are you making that now?"

His wings flutter. "I thought I'd attempt something a bit more complicated."

"Are you trying to impress me?" I ask with a smirk.

He's too slow to cover his smile, "Only if it's working."

The smell of spices and vegetables fills the small space, like thyme or rosemary, with a hint of heat behind all of it, mixed with whatever main dish he's prepping. There's large puffs of pink something resting on a pan in the corner, a thick brown sauce that he scraped cubed veggies into, and something else that's blocked by his frame. It all smells heavenly.

My mouth is watering by the time he sets a large plate in front of me with one of those pink bread rolls on one side, the sauce and cubed veggies on the other. I smell more spices and heat, and it's agony to wait for him to sit next to me at the countertop. 

"Is it rude to just dig in?"

"Absolutely it is," he says, smiling. "But we're not at a paid dining establishment." He motions to my plate. "Eat."

This dish reminds me of curry but with bread instead of rice, and smells the same. Kri hasn't laid out any utensils as most ento eat with their hands, so I tear a piece of the pink bread off, dip it in the sauce, and pop it in my mouth. 

Spices and flavor dance over my tongue, things I can't name but are still delicious. It pairs with the bread so well, I'm barely through the first mouthful before I'm shoving a second bite in my face.

Kri eats opposite me, slow and careful, trying to casually glimpse up at me like he's checking in on me, and I cover my smile around another bite of food. He's worried, I can tell, and it's kind of cute.

I wolf down my food and say nothing, and normally I would feel bad about the silence, but Kri doesn't say anything either. 

"It was acceptable?"

"Don't kid yourself, it was delicious. I'm so full," I say, patting my stomach for emphasis.

It's not just the food that keeps me quiet. I also don't want to talk about how I feel. Being emotionally honest makes me anxious, makes me think of all the ways it could be used against me. I don't want to scare off Kri with all the issues I have. He listened to me in Igrien, but how many more times will he listen to me say, "Oh, Stephen made me this way," before he walks out?

But as we both set our plates aside and sit awkwardly in the kitchen, I realize that this is it. That if I want something to happen with Kri, I have to grab it with both hands myself. Even so, I still fiddle with my hands as I speak up.

"So uh, is this the part where we talk about feelings?"

Kri tilts his head, probably picking up on my mood, and quietly says, "If you'd like."

"Not really," I laugh, nerves making the sound shaky. "But I just want to know that we're on the same page-- that we're at a complete understanding," I correct when Kri narrows his eyes in confusion.

I focus my attention to a spot on the table. "I'm not good at words but I want…this. Us-- something…Something."

Even to my own ears it sounds horrible, and I grimace. God damn it, I should've thought about it before we got here. But all I have is feelings, emotions that push at my heart and flood my senses. I don't know how to describe my anxiety any better than describing the color red. Sometimes it feels like too much, like if I acknowledge anything it'll turn into too much to handle.

Kri only stares at me, giving me more space to talk, and my teeth creak as I grind them together anxiously. "Okay, it's your turn."

And then he looks away, down at the table, at his hands. His expression shutters off, a blank face, then darkens into something profoundly sad, and it's like I can hear his thoughts across the table. I appreciate the romp in the lab, Cass, but this just isn't for me. You're too fucked up, and I'm not about to deal with all of that. Except he'd say it nicer, with bigger words. Taking a shaking inhale, I hold my breath as the tightness of anxiety starts to coil around my chest and wraps fingers over my brain.

Then Kri sighs, a heavy movement of his shoulders, and he looks back up at me. "I admit that my thoughts are scattered. Between wanting to breathe you in like oxygen, and questioning whether I've earned the right to inhale. You've already bared your feelings for me, and I did not tell you mine at the time as I was--" he pauses to think, then huffs a laugh, "distracted. But I believe I have words for you now."

He reaches across the small table, taking my hands in his. He's warm as always, and his thumb rubs the back of my hand comfortingly. The tightness in my chest eases, ever so slightly.

"Cassie," he says. "I have a great many feelings for you, some of which I'm prepared for, and others that frighten me deeply. I am well aware that I come with a history, and the weight that it implies. But if you'll allow me your patience and understanding, I'd very much like to explore what a relationship with you would look like."

It's so earnest, so bare, that I'm hit with a wave of emotion that completely drowns out any other thoughts I have in my head. I want to lean forward and kiss his hands. I want to vault over the table and climb into his lap. "Jesus, did you prepare that?"

His eyes widen a fraction, like he didn't expect me to respond like that, and then he nods. "When confronted with interpersonal problems, I know that I tend to recede into myself and minimize the words leaving my mouth, and I'm trying not to do that so we're, what did you say, on the same page? You deserve my transparency in this, especially considering how I've been acting. I was trying to push you away when you wanted to be close, and you deserve so much better than that."

There's so much he's saying without saying it, and I can analyze why he thinks I deserve better, or inspect why all I want to do is jump over the table and give him the ride of his life, but my brain only latches onto my own insecurity. "You prepared a speech for me and all I had was, like, five words."

With a free hand, Kri rustles around in his bag and produces a small square of paper, folded very neatly. "I also wrote down several non-starters in case you realized that you're too good for me, so I also had a handful of words prepared."

It's said so casually, so matter-of-fact, that I can't help but snort. It breaks the tension in the room and my smile feels easier than before, keeping eye contact isn't as difficult.

"And to be fair," he continues. "You said more than enough the other day. I was worried that you'd take it all back."

Something clicks into place in my head, a small, flighty piece of Kri's psyche that I've been seeing without noticing. That despite his attitude, or ego, or anything else, he still craves a form of validation, still vies for approval. And I desperately, so desperately want to know what he's afraid of. But that's a whole other conversation, a heavy and upsetting one. One that I don't think either of us are up for right now.

So I squeeze his hands in mine. "I…really like you," I say. "I think we just need to get better at showing it. I guess we could…figure it out together?"

"That sounds lovely."

Kri tries to clean up on his own, but I butt my way in when he starts to wash the dishes. I'm off to his left, drying and setting them aside, and we fall into a good rhythm that reminds me of his time helping in the lab. We don't need to speak to fill space, I'm guided by his movements, and he's guided by me.

This is nice. Domestic, even. My heart stutters at the idea of doing this again, of sharing a space, of being welcomed into his home.

As I'm drying my hands on a towel, Kri steps around and in front of me, close enough that I can smell fresh water, and I look up at him and offer a warm smile. Taking my chin in one hand, he presses a kiss to my lips, chaste and simple and wholly perfect. This is our first kiss as a couple, I realize as his other hands carefully take the towel from me and rest it on the counter. 

The first of many, hopefully. 

Is that sappy? I don't care, as long as they keep happening. I press up to continue the kiss, a deep-seated need shocking through me at the soft noise he makes against my lips. 

Then Kri searches my face, and I hear the chitter of his wings as they flutter against his back. "You're more than welcome to stay," he says, voice low, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

It physically pains me to be responsible and say, "I have to clock in tomorrow."

He nods once, decisive, and quickly pecks my cheek again before straightening. "I will fly you home, then."

"Sounds goo-- wait what?"

Kri doesn't answer me, only walks past me and into the living room.

Surely, surely he can't mean literally, I continue to think as I grab my stuff and we head out the door.

But sure enough, we walk outside and he picks me up like I'm a princess, something that still shocks me that he can do, and off we go.

I've never seen the Outpost from above, and it's kind of beautiful. I can trace the lights of the walking paths and the hovercar roads, I see single rooms lit from the buildings, other residents up late like me. And outside the border of the Outpost is the pure, unfiltered landscape of Summanus, with its primordial trees and glowing underbrush, like the ground itself is framing us with light. I've seen Kri fly faster, he must be slowing himself for my benefit. And Kri is glowing too, not nearly as bright as the electronics around us, but more subtle, softer. It's still that pale blue, rivers of light lining his chitinous plating. I want to trace them with my fingers, before I remember what it does to him.

We land in front of my building, so gently that Kri's feet don't make a sound, and he sets me down just as carefully.

"Thanks," I mutter, suddenly shy and awkward. I feel like he's bringing me home from prom and it's past curfew. I clear my throat. "Thank you for dinner. Not bad for a first date."

With his two lower arms, he grabs my hands and brings them together. "You will have to decide the next one, then."

I huff an exhale, smiling up at him. "Okay."

He smiles back, soft, relaxed, totally content. Dark eyes search my face, and even in the low light I can make out my reflection in the inky blackness. Two hands come up to cup my cheeks, fingers wrapping around to the base of my skull, as Kri leans down and gently kisses me.

I tilt my head and sigh into it as my eyes fall shut, wishing I were taller so he wouldn't have to bend down as far and I could press up against him. This is still good, though, he can still rest his other hands over my hips, and I can wind my arms over his shoulders. 

This is all going to hit me later, a hurricane of repressed feelings. It's going to be a lot of good emotions though, I can feel them boiling behind my chest. Giddyness and arousal alongside anxiety and dread. I'm both excited and terrified of what could happen.

I can still feel the warmth coming off of him even when he leans back. His hands stay on my face, steady and comforting, and he leans forward and quickly kisses me again. 

"I should go before I follow you inside," he says around a laugh, and I nod sadly. 

"Or before I drag you in." 

He chuckles, low and sexy, and squeezes my hands. 

"Goodnight Cassie." 

"Goodnight Kri," I mumble, and he steps back, dropping my hands from his.

I watch him take off before going inside, and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face if I tried.

Chapter 13 >>

[vicentantoniobros]

THE FEELINGS

Carl lived in a town in achimi in a clean and quiet environment and full of places where only a few people blive here can plant different crops plants and vegetables rich in vitamin and then the people here mostly hunt so that can have something to eat instead of vegetable and they don't go out much because it's dark around their town and there

Not much light everytime the night comes

Carl is a well - built man with smooth skin and tall .With a beautiful eyes , eyelashes and piercings nose and other women like. He is a loving son attentive to his parent born in Galileo far from their country , they are a rich family and he has two friends, Nicole is a shy girl but cheerful and lucas is a judgemental boy and smart who are younger friends, they are a well-off family who are always with them every day when they wander.

one day carl woke up in the morning to go in I their school, it's his first time in the senior class, so he's still a little nervous and the name of their school is Teikou University Academy, it's a private school where those who entered it are grade 7 to grade 11 senior high school and it's big tall buildings and only a few entered it and after a few minutes I met friends Carl, Nicole, Lucas

carl: “how are you"? "‚Nicole and Lucas are fine

nicole: "I'm okay ,you're okay, Lucas

lucas: I'm fine

carl: well then, guys, did you eat before leaving? at your house?

nicole: "of course”

lucas: "with nicole", I ate before leaving our house

Narrator: "while Carl, Nicole, and Lucas were walking to Teikou from their school, they saw something in the ameno area with many trees and a quiet place, many trees and slowly they approached.

Carl said: "what is that"? "I saw an old woman

Nicole: "Yes, let's approach him."

lucas: "don't go near that, you don't know and maybe someone else will do that to you, that stinky old man"

carl said :"you're bad" !", lucas you are too judgmental" towards someone, you are not in a good situation.

Nicole: "Yes"Lucas , why are you like that.

narrator : carl gave the old man something to eat and drink

Carl: "Grandma, this bread is for you, and you can drink it .

Lola said: You are a kind child, I wish you were like them, God have mercy on you

Carl: It's okay grandma, I have some money in my pocket so it's okay.

Nicole: yes, grandma, it's okay, I just want Lucas

lucas said: let me go ahead of you to school

Carl: "Be careful when you go to school

lucas : "Nicole and you" ‚ I'm leaving, ahh, I'll go first

Narrator: and when lucas went to school first, carl and nicole followed

Nicole : "Come on Carl" ‚

carl: okay grandma, let's go first, we're going to school, be careful there and go home

Grandma:" You children, be careful when you enter

I will give you something because. you are a good boy"

carl: "what's that grandma"‚?

grandmother I will give this bill to your beloved woman so that you can stay together

carl : thank you grandma

nicole: "what did grandma tell you" ‚?

Carl: There's nothing. Don't worry, we're about to go in. We'll be late entering the room

Nicole: "Come on".

Narrator: After a few hours of walking, they arrived at the school

carl: we finally got to school, we're tired, let's rest while we don't have class.

Nicole : "Yes, it's tiring" ‚

narrator; and after they rested, they went to their room and they sat down and introduced themselves to their teachers, teacher Ivy, this is a kind teacher, after a few hours, their classes ended. Carl got up and went to Nicole and Lucas, they talked, and ate together

carl : "Nicole"‚ ?

Nicole :" carl why do you have something to say "‚?

carl : there is !" do you know the woman in the back "?‚

Nicole : " ahh that "‚ the one sitting behind! that's kassandra why? it's beautiful

carl: yes, she's beautiful, maybe you can walk me to her pls

nicole: "let me think about it carl"

Lucas: "Is that right, Carl, yes, I can see it behind me She's really beautiful, I think there's a Jowa in that carl!

nicole :" hey lucas "! don't say that you need to be positive because carl might get hurt

lucas: I'm sorry. I don't know because I just said my opinion. I'm sorry again for what I said

Nicole: of course , as long as Lucas and I are your friends we always in your side even though you and Kassandra will not be ok

and after school Nicole introduces Kassandra to her friend Carl

Nicole said: Carl, where are Kassandra and I waiting here? I was with him outside of school

carl : I'll be done with it in a moment

Narrator: and when Carl finished what they did, Kassandra and Carl talked about their lives, everything went well after their conversation and Carl asked Kassandra out on a date so they could get to know each other better' t one. manners and after their conversation, Nicole and Lucas went so he invited them to go home

and after a few hours of walking, and they were home

Carl: Mom, I'm back home and I have a story for you, mom, this morning I saw an old woman, then I helped her, I gave her food and something to drink, and she gave me a crystal-colored bill. glowing red

Parents: You are really kind to your son. Take a rest from your father. I know if you are tired from your studies

Carl: Alright, I'll go to sleep

while Carl was sleeping, he thought of what the old man told him, give it to the woman you love the most, and Carl wondered if what the old man was saying was true.

The next day, Carl woke up in the morning to go to school

nicole : Carl, we're awake and we're going in early

carl : I'll be close for a moment there it is

lucas: hurry up carl we will be late for classes naden

carl: "no" I would like to tell you something that Kassandra and I are no longer together

lucas: "yes of course"

and while they were walking, they talked about Kassandra that Carl was going to date and when he got close to Kassandra, he and his friends didn't talk much and Carl continued flirting until he got caught by Karl is Kassandra who is with another man, Jonas, who has a beautiful body and is an elegant man

nicole you can't talk to us anymore ahh

nicole Let's go for a walk friends to relieve stress and fatigue

lucas : yes of course carl you were too serious with kassandra

lucas : "with you" ?

Nicole :" why "! what happened to you"‚ ?

nicole: let's wander around the shinkai first to get rid of it. weight you carry

Carl: Thank you for supporting me

Lucas :no, we're just here as friends

Narrator:and while they were talking , Nicole confessed her feelings

That Nicole has feelings for Carl accept Nicole feelings , Carl doesn't think he will admit his feelings even though Carl has feelings for him , he's just shy to it because it might ruin his friendship and since he found out Carl said that they both had , so when they confessed to each other, their relationship it pass because of the feelings they both had , so when they confessed to each other , their relationship became even more intense , so they became friends until the end live in peace .

[agave]

the system has changed a fuckload over the last year and a half. and now suddenly I am one of the first alters that's actually remembering things from source/past life/whatever you want to call it. previously none of us remembered anything and just kind of, like. were, you know?

it is... weird. and this is unfair to the others, a little, but it makes me feel so much more alien than everyone else, because I'm the first person who really properly (penny and mia remember a little) remembers being from a different place and culture and, fuck it, species as everyone else. dunmeshi chilchuck introject btw if that wasn't clear. halfling.

stuff I've remembered so far: - general idea of my native culture/where I grew up - my parents, generally - kids' names (different from canon) and general idea of where they are in life now - what my wife was like - some specific conversations about naming the kids/her pregnancy - most of an old family recipe - traditional crop/diet, a little bit - the other day I was talking to a system friend of ours and I remembered a word in halfish. I didn't remember the actual word, but I remembered the meaning, and there isn't an equivalent in any language I can think of. I also remembered a general sense of what the language is like - how much less of a fucking pain it is when you can actually hear things properly. with tallfolk something leaves your field of vision and it's just fucking gone

asked another system friend and according to them this is just what it's like for systems with memories about this kind of stuff. like they just remember things. what the hell. how is that not really distracting? I almost want to start keeping a journal about it or something. maybe I'll use this blog for that, who knows.

[askthechronoverse]

Chapter Three: Do Your Secrets Start to Show?

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The house took more time to renovate than Unikitty thought it would and Rex estimated it would. The Master Breaker insisted on sleeping in the forest instead of going home with her to the castle. The distance Rex put between himself and her tugged at her heart. She wished she knew what she did to him, but the way he spoke to her when she tried to get too close was enough to keep curiosity at bay. It was just her and Rex in the forest now as the house neared completion.

"We should have a housewarming party when we finish. We totally earned one after all this building!" The cat grinned, hearts shooting from her horn like confetti.

"Yeah. Why not? Love a real Unikitty party. Just gotta be careful we don't wake the neighbors." He flashed a smile and turned to his work.

"Is that a joke I heard? I would have thought you were too serious for that." Unikitty spoke playfully as she put the last post on a fence.

"You like that, you should hear my stand up routine. My raptor crew never complained." He gestured to an empty plot of land. "Can you till some of the land over there? I'm gonna try to grow some crops. There should be some gardening equipment lying around."

"You are just full of surprises today!" She walked over to a shovel and stared at it, hoping to get instructions from it on how to till a garden.

"I used to claim I was a man of the land. May as well back the claim up. That shovel probably knows more about the process than you seem to, Princess. Maybe you could just build a shed and I'll till later?" Unikitty nodded and started to build.

"What else can you do?" She let an ear twitch. For all this time she was working with the guy, he didn't talk too much in general. It confounded her.

"I learned to do lots of things, Princess. I sometimes can't keep it all straight." He chuckled as he finished what he was doing and started to tend to the soil. "So. Party. Who are we invitin'?"

"Yeah! We could invite Hawkodile, Richard, Puppycorn, and Doctor Fox!" She conjured a notebook and pen from seemingly nowhere and began to write the names down. "And of course you and me." She tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "Who else? I'd invite the whole kingdom, but that's not gonna work. Oh! Brock! He's not one of my normal friends, but he loves to party! Maybe we can even invite Master Frown if he promises to play nice." Rex just shrugged. "That shrug is a good enough approval for me!" Unikitty thought for a moment while Rex continued to work, the cat standing in place with pen and paper in paw. "What kind of cake do you like?"

"You'll probably laugh, but that vanilla cake with the rainbow sprinkles in it. It always made my day better when I was growin' up just seein' it." He shook his head. "Haven't had a slice in a long time, though. Ya can't be a tough guy if you eat that all the time."

"I think you're wrong about that, but that's fine. I'll make you some of that!" She wrote that down with a reminder to add that to her birthday party database for later use. "So, is there anything you really like to do?"

"I like to watch movies. Mostly grown up stuff. I also play guitar." He stopped tending to the plot of land he was working on and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

"You do? What kinds of songs do you play?” The princess’s eyes lit up.

"Mostly covers of songs I like. Not sure you'd be into them." He rubbed the handkerchief all over his face and put it away. "I don't know too many songs you'd consider 'happy', Princess." Unikitty's eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, can you still play me something?"

"No. I really don't play for other people." He went back to working the plot of land. "Besides, my axe is on my ship."

"You probably sound fine! You should play for me sometime!" The cat bounced in place. "You mean the large fist ship? Did you live on that thing all alone?"

"Not interested." His tone was oddly defensive for a request like that. "Well, no. Not really. I have my crew. We're a pack. Like a family but radder."

"Your crew? Aren't they all raptors? Did you have anyone else?"

"No. I don't need anyone else." The loud drone of a ship engine made the man look up. He whispered a prayer to the Man Upstairs when he saw one of his carrier ships land close by. A raptor came out of the ship and started to unload boxes. "Hey, Dutch! Good timing!" He put down his tiller and rushed over to the gray raptor. The two started to take boxes into the cabin. Unikitty started to help, but the box she decided to pick up was very heavy. She opened the box and saw it was a large dark blue metal radio of some kind with an old looking microphone attached to it. Rex lifted the box up and walked inside without a word. She picked up a lighter box and rushed inside.

The gray raptor was taking things out of boxes and putting them away in the correct rooms while his captain moved the boxes into the house. There was no furniture, but a few boxes were labeled as furniture and designated different rooms, so she looked in one. It was all pieces of things that could build whatever he needed. She moved out of the way when the raptor started to grab things from a box next to her. Eventually, Rex finished moving the boxes and stroked the raptor's snout like a jockey would for a beloved horse.

"You're the best, Dutch. Get on home. You know where to find me." The raptor rushed off, taking off in the ship. He turned and looked through his boxes for the parts for a couch. He built one in the blink of an eye and sat on it. "It's gettin' late, Princess. If you don't leave now, you'll need to stay overnight. I'm not gonna make you go out in that forest in the dark."

"I'll stay here, if that's OK. Is there a way I can let Hawkodile know?"

"Most I have is my radio. If one of your buddies has one, you can use that. My cellphone doesn't work in this part of the galaxy for some reason." He took his phone out of his pocket and showed her that it had no signal. "Or maybe it doesn't work in the middle of the forest. I dunno. I ain't exactly here to reach out to anyone. The radio's in my study. I think Dutch managed to get that set up."

Unikitty entered the study and took a look around. She saw shelves full of books about time travel theory and dinosaurs as well as a tome with faded colors. She pulled it out and saw it was titled "Instructions to Fit In, Have Everyone Like You, and Always Be Happy". The title was a weird one, to say the least. She put it back and looked for the radio. She saw it on a dark stained wooden desk. She felt around with her paw until she found a switch. The radio hummed to life, green lights showing the frequencies available. She didn't really know how to use the thing, but she pressed a button with her paw on the mic and whispered a tentative hello. She jumped when she heard growls from the speakers.

"That's the Rexcelsior's communication room, Princess. Tell 'em who you are." Rex shouted from the other room.

"Uh… I'm Princess Unikitty?" She sounded so unsure and the growls she was getting back weren't helping. "Can you please call the Unikingdom castle and tell them I'm staying over at Rex's house tonight?" More growls. She turned her head toward the door. "Am I doing this right?"

"She said she's got this. I'm sure your friends'll be as confused as you are right now, Princess. The raptors only speak raptor." She could hear the soft sound of a 16 bit chiptune playing in the room Rex was in.

"How come you can understand them?" She turned the radio off and entered the room. Rex was still on the couch, but seemed to be playing a game where a blue creature ran around a place that was filled with neon colors. A little yellow creature followed the blue one.

"Ya live with someone long enough, ya learn to speak their language." She watched Rex move the blue thing around the area. She could recognize it as a video game, but had no idea what it was.

"Whatcha playin'?"

"Just an old game I found somewhere. I think it's a two player game if ya wanna try it." He bumped a strange looking black controller with his hand, but the motion was quick so he could return to the game. She sat next to him and took the controller. She pushed a button and the yellow creature jumped up.

"What do you do in this game?"

"The porcupine and fox are tryin' to stop a mad scientist from endin' the word or somethin'. The fox can fly, by the way. Not sure if that'll help ya any." He had the blue rodent curl up into a ball and attack some robots.

"Have you played this before?" She tried to follow Rex's button presses, but she was not as good as he was.

"Once or twice. I prefer racing games, if you'd rather play somethin' else." He said this as the fox made a shocked expression and fell off the screen for a second.

"Sure? I'm not great at video games. Just ask my brother." Rex got up and turned the console off, moving to a much larger one. He tossed her a controller with a more boomerang like design and a large X on the top. She was able to read that a "dangervest#4678" was signing in, with an icon of a squirrel with sunglasses above the words. When he was able to, he moved to an icon with a sleek red car on it and moved through the menus with a speed that Unikitty couldn't keep up with as he spoke.

"That ain't a bad thing. Maybe ya just haven't found a game you really like yet." He chose his car and waited for Unikitty to pick hers. "I have a lot of 'em, so I'm sure I have something for ya." She chose her car and the two began the race. It didn't take the man long to take the lead, with Unikitty at dead last. She took her time driving around the track.

"Hey, Princess. Here's a tip: the goal is to win the race." He said playfully.

"But look at how pretty everything is! It all looks so nice!" Rex just laughed in reply as he finished the first lap. She tried as best she could to catch up and was able to get to third by lap two.

"There ya go! That's what I wanna see! Come get me, fluffball!" He kept his lead, a teasing smirk on his face. By the end of lap three, the two cars were neck and neck. "Two laps left. Wanna make this interesting?"

"Sure?" The cat replied as she took the lead for a brief moment.

"How 'bout loser makes dinner?"

"And does the dishes after!" The cat added with a little too much zeal.

"Sounds like a bet, Princess." The two focused on the game for the rest of the race, the two occasionally trash talking the other when they took the lead. The race was close, but the cat jumped to her feet when her car crossed the finish line first.

"Did I do it right, game master?" She grinned wildly. "Maybe next time you should take your own advice!"

"Beginner's luck, Princess. But a bet's a bet." He got up and changed the TV to show a news program. "Does anyone deliver out here? Actually, that shouldn't matter. Duke should be able to get it over here." He headed into his study.

"How many raptors do you have?" Unikitty followed him in and sat next to him as he turned on his radio.

"Ten, maybe? I had a lot more, but it sucks to be the one to lose a battle." That statement left Unikitty conflicted. She had to remind herself that Rex wasn't a good guy. Sure, he was charming and fun to play games with. But he also was a dangerous person who was, until recently, antagonistic. On the other hand, he did seem to care about his raptor crew. There was a hint of painful loss behind his words. By the time the thought ran its course, he had placed a pizza order through his raptor. "There. Duke can use a computer and order the food online. Wanna play somethin' else?"

"What else have you got? I could beat you all night, Dangervest!" The cat walked behind Rex.

"We could try somethin' calmer for now. Not sure I could take more of your trash talk before dinner." He switched back to his game console and chose a game with a goose on the icon. The pastel colors and calm soundtrack was something Unikitty didn't expect him to have an interest in. "Give this a try. I gotta unpack some plates." He handed her the controller and the first button she pressed just made the white goose honk. She made it honk a few more times before Rex came back and watched her.

"Why do you have a game like this?" The cat had the goose grab a flower she saw on a table.

"I have a farming game, too. I play games to relax, Princess." There was a scratching at the door. "Pizza's here. I'll get it." He got to the door and the calm piano got more intense. After the raptor got some chin scratches from his captain, Rex put the boxes on a counter that separated the kitchen and the living room.

Unikitty paused the game and looked over to her host. In the artificial light in the kitchen, she could see how deeply tired he looked. It wasn't something sleep could ever fix, either. She could feel it just by looking at him. She glided over to the counter and grabbed a slice of pizza. Should she say something? Would he get mad again?

"Sleep in the bed in the master bedroom, alright?" He pointed to a door behind him as he ate over the sink.

"Where will you sleep?" She asked softly, still in her thoughts.

"I don't sleep, Princess." He grabbed another slice of pizza and continued to eat over the sink.

"You don't? Don't you need to?"

"Don't worry about that. I have a couch. Couches are decent places to sleep." Unikitty wanted to say something about that, but she yawned instead. "Get some sleep, Princess. Ya sound like ya need it." She nodded and went into the master bedroom. The bed Rex had in there was basic and small. An old looking television and a white game console sat across from it. Near that was a shelf full of various disk jewel cases and cartridges. She assumed this was his game collection. She settled down for some sleep.

She heard a crash some time after drifting off. She rushed out into the living room and saw a shadowy figure move slowly toward the front door. She got closer and saw it was Rex. "Rex? What happened?" She walked in front of him and saw that his face was expressionless, his dark eyes glazed over. He muttered something incoherent and moved around the cat to the front door. She let him leave for a second, stunned by the sight before her. She soon ran to the front yard and saw him staring up at the moon, expression still unreadable.

"Help me."

The voice alarmed Unikitty. It came out of nowhere, was perfectly clear, and didn't sound at all like Rex. It sounded more familiar, like someone she knew from her previous adventures. She stepped forward slowly toward the still man who was still looking skyward.

"Help me."

That voice. It sounded so terrified, like the world around the speaker was collapsing around him. He wasn't asking or demanding help, he was begging for it. She didn't know what Rex was seeing with his dead eyes, but she willed herself to go further toward the man.

"Emmet?" Her voice was soft and quiet. This didn't make sense. Right? The words given in reply were harder to understand now. "Help you with what?" She could only pick up the word "lost". "OK, this is a funny joke, guys. You got me." The cat sounded nervous now.

"Help…"

"OK. I'll beeeee back!" She ran to the house and grabbed Rex's phone from the kitchen counter. No signal still. She ran out of the cabin and unlocked the phone, scrolling through his contacts. He really only had one. She had to fly closer to town to get a signal. She shouldn't have left Rex in that state, but she didn't know how to help him. She chose his only contact and called the one available number. She almost immediately got a very polite voicemail. By the time she got back, Rex was no longer in the yard and was sitting on the couch watching a cheesy monster movie.

"I wouldn't take a walk in the woods at night, Princess. Who knows what's out there?"