#its a small update relative to the rest of the work

[phatburd]

I did a little fic update last night. You're welcome.

Once Was All There Was: Chapter 7 - The Gallows

[kaszuma]

Aera Perennius | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 7 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: soshiro was never one to raise his voice at anyone. But the one time he did, it was because he almost lost you for good.

warnings: Slight Kn8 Manga Spoilers, Description of Pain / Injuries / Hospitalizations, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Cursing, Slight mention of self-harm

wc: 9,793

–

note: I finiahed it earlier than anticipated so here you go-- I had such a difficult time writing this because I've been so busy. There were so many changes and the original draft had been scrapped so many times that it almost made me want to give up and start over. But lucky I didn't or I would've not updated in time. So, yay!

English is hard haha and sometimes it hates me and just doesn't make sense when I read it in my mind versus when I read it outloud. Anyways I will be doing slower updates, so no definitive dates nor titles for the next parts yet. But Part 8 and 9 will be back-to-back spicy NSFW stuff (courtesy of reaching 200 Followers. Thank you lots by the way), So stay tuned!! This is not proofread. So if I missed any warnings feel free to tell me. 🫶

–

Sleep had come naturally to you.

The sound of rapid footsteps and muffled yelling had all but faded into the distance as mere whispers against your ears.

Such rapidness did not seem to fit the silence of what had initially surrounded you. The sudden weight of your own body being dragged left and right until your vision blurs. The stark darkness of city skylines transformed into the unnatural shine of the hospital's fluorescent lights; one that made it hard to pick people's silhouettes apart.

And as such, it reminds you of the distant past.

One that was filled with vast open fields, very unlike the corporate labs you had been accustomed with. A stark contrast to the very corners of Japan, in the countryside where your grandparents had established a simple life for themselves. Filled to the brim with rice crops and summer cicadas.

And it makes you reminisce about the short time you'd spend there. On the cool nights after your summer school days would inevitably end. And you'd be dragged to a summer house where cousins and relatives had doted on you.

Such a homeward bound place was a far cry to the bustling streets of Tokyo's Eastern divisions. Which had often been endowed with the familiar cries of loud music and the steady rumbles of heavy railways underneath you.

One that Kaiju had lamented no peace from.

Even in the midst of high-story buildings where your workplace had boasted the use of sound proof walls. The cityscapes nearest Izumo Tech Corporation could not even be muzzled by its titanium doors, of which Japan's Top Secret Bioweapons had been kept. Schematics and all.

You had grown used to such a taciturn work environment.

Your existence is thrown into the small bubble of your private lab. Segregated from your coworker who valued work over social relations. And you had been much the same.

You and the rest of the technicians were far too focused on your projects. Tinkering away at the prototype suits that the company had sent your way. A partnership between your parent company and Japan’s Defense Force. A task of which you and a few others had been selected to create and maintain.

And how lucky you had been, to land yourself a snug spot in the notoriety of the Third Division's wake. The very same division that had boasted the least amount of casualties in the case of a large-scale Kaiju attack.

The very same division where Mina Ashiro had led and mounted into victory.

And you'd consider yourself lucky to have known such an amazing person in this lifetime.

For fate to have led her to you, you'd assume you've somehow accumulated some sort of good karma in your past life. The reward to you had been fresh in this new one. An action that had garnered some godly being to bestow upon you a chance to meet your soulmate.

You'd be remiss with disappointment if you hadn't met Soshiro Hoshina in this lifetime.

But prior to that. Before Ashiro had recruited you into her division, you had little to no contact with the officers on-field. Delegated to the simple task of sending blueprints in and out of Tachikawa's base should the time arise; begrudgingly in the early mornings of every month too.

Back then, you had befriended a bespectacled girl named Okonogi. Who wore a slightly bigger uniform than the rest of the recruits. A quirk of hers which you found rather amusing. She, who wholeheartedly believed she might still grow into the uniform that was two sizes too bigger than what was recommended of her.

And you had remembered the day you had met her too.

It was another typical day in your routine. Delivering notes to Captain Ashiro in and out of bases. Though this time, you had decided upon taking a detour. Seeing the empty spaces of the mess hall which granted you an opportune moment of grabbing some coffee.

And such a detour had led you upon the bespectacled girl. Your documents slipping from your very fingertips. And your other hand, which held the coffee mind you. Accidentally toppling over. Spilling the liquid against her pristine ivory lab coat. Staining it.

Lucky it had not been hot, or else that could've been an accident in the making.

“I am… so sorry about that.” Your eye catches the glimpse of her nametag, stained with a bit of caffeine. Okonogi was what it read. And you were already pulling out a handkerchief from your pocket. Intent on correcting the mistake you made.

“No, it's okay. Really.”

The sincerity in her voice made you visibly flinch. And you had half a mind to just shove her your wallet, a chance given to compensate her for the coat you ruined. But the look on her eyes was determined. Abrupt in the way she had declined you.

“Are you sure? Money shouldn't be a problem. I can definitely get you a better coat within the day..” You spoke with much guilt. And yet she insisted.

“No need, really! It's just a stain. Nothing a bit of bleach can't handle.” She moves lower with a smile, one hand tucked behind her knees as she tries to pick up the few folders scattered on the ground.

“-Lucky it didn't hit the documents! Or the Director would definitely have our heads for it.” Okonogi had surprisingly jested your way. And a small laugh bubbles between the two of you in turn. As if you had known each other for quite some time now.

“I suppose so.” You had spoken between giggles. The sentiment shared between the two had all but eased the tension of the room.

And the brunette had gingerly handed you the pile of documents that had been untarnished. Though, one in particular catches her trained eye.

It was a simple list of materials used for the next batch of combat suits to-be-made. Or at least, that was the pitch you had planned to present today. In the hopes that Mina Ashiro would give it enough attention and send it to command for a much more direct approval.

And Okonogi, who was a newbie at the time. Had known all too well of the budding genius you had been. A technician far too enraptured in improving Combat Suits and weapons catering for strange combat. One that did not conform to the normalcy of firearms which had modernized the era.

And it seems one of your papers in particular had caught her attention. Like a hammer against glass.

It was a series of notes and drawings involving bronze wires that resembled the muscle groups of a Kaiju's inner workings. All built into the combat suit that had been Izumo Tech's symbolic masterpiece.

And its Kaiju plating was as amazing as it was unconventional. Built to last no doubt in the wake of an ever evolving organization.

Okonogi could not help but stare at it. Admiring the artistry and engineering involved in such a concept.

“An idea of yours?” She asks. And you nod in turn. Surprised by the way she did not immediately question the schematics.

Normally you'd be met with strange looks. One that questioned the very ethics of your research for involving Kaiju parts into the combat suits.

But the Defense Force had long since been converting strong Kaiju into weaponry. And applying the same sentiments to a combat suit, should be no different. “That's right.”

“I was hoping to improve the current designs of the Combat Suits.” You admitted. “If it succeeds, it might help our soldiers a lot more. Survivability wise..I mean.”

And Okonogi smiles at this. A layer of irony mixed in with the few laughs that bubbled within her chest.

She knew how fragile lives can be. Especially in their line of work where they had faced massive enemies almost on a daily basis. And a battle of attrition against such monsters? It was never a pretty picture.

But still, it had been a rare sight to see one so dedicated with quality of life improvements. And it was as if Okonogi knew that she'd be able to trust you with such a task.

“Glad to see you working on it! People have been volunteering less and less these days. But if we had better tech, I'm sure our members would increase by a large margin.”

Her assurance made you nod. Already taking the paper from her hands and delicately sliding it back to the rest of the folders you held. Carefully standing as the both of you had come to smile at each other.

“If there's a chance it can save lives. There's no harm in trying. It's just a part of the job.”

“There's definitely a truth in that.” Okonogi remained positive with a dip to her head. Making her rimmed glasses slide gently from the bridge of her nose. A tilt in her head as she next spoke.

“-But, why use bronze by the way? Wouldn't steel or alloy be a better alternative?”

You had looked over to the notes peeking from your file. And a smile is etched on the very corner of your lips. Complacent in the way you had so easily looked at her, as if you knew something she did not.

“There's a saying you see.”

Okonogi tilts her head upward. Who had finally moved to fixate her gaze to you. Eyes meeting with the absolute tenacity and confidence at your craft. “...a saying?”

You nod. “They say that some people should seek things that are more lasting than bronze.”

“Does bronze not last very long?”

“Oh it does. But even in metals, people try to find something much better right?” Okonogi who had paused to think about your words. Had only nodded in turn. Your sentiment was a much more refreshing and positive take than she had imagined it to be.

“I intend to find that material. One that would make a monument more lasting than the lives we lost.”

And Okonogi’s breath hitches. And you had looked her in the eye, with a determination she was sure would last you a lifetime. “Even if that means I have to dissect a Kaiju and use its very skin as armor.”

A bit morbid for her take. But still, she couldn't help but admire your tenacity. It was the same sentiment she'd see with the soldiers. And somehow, it reminds her of a certain someone who was all smiles despite wielding a blade.

“I suppose most Kaiju do have a layer of tough skin..” She jested. And your shoulders shake with a bubbling smile. The start of a silly friendship perhaps, where Soshiro's eyes would soon flicker your way.

And somehow things just started to click into place.

You didn't know if it was fate. Had it been Okonogi or Mina Ashiro that led you to him. But it wasn't until a few weeks later, you had found yourself responsible for the Third's technical division. Overseeing much of the repairs and weapon upgrades needed for Kaiju slaying. And it was in that very same division where you had grown much closer to him.

A strange recruit, scouted from the Kansai district. Where Captain Ashiro had particularly shown a keen interest in. His skill in the blade had been incomparable to his peers. And although he boasted the highest individual body-count when it came to handling melee pursuits. You had once thought him stupid for sticking to a fighting technique that had long since aged from the existence of firearms.

But how wrong you had been in judging him for that.

Okonogi often reminded you not to be too harsh on him whenever the two of you had just so happened to meet. Jesting that you two would've made a stellar couple, had you both given each other a chance. And although you've denied such things a few times before, Soshiro would always take a glance at you as if reading the expressions on your face. Thoroughly investigating the subtle expressions you wore that would've reached his conclusion.

And each time after that, he too would answer for you. A denial. A white lie.

And Okonogi always saw through it of course. She had been there since the beginning. Serving cupid for the both of you.

And when she can, she had always been peppy in her step. Pushing the both of you in a particular direction. Waiting for one of you to make a move. Calculated like masters playing chess on a board. By far you two had been hopeless. If it wasn’t for Okonogi’s encouragement, Soshiro wouldn’t have thought to visit you between breaks. And how lucky you had been to have the girl pry him out of his skittish shell.

It’s a wonder you two had gotten together like this.

You had rarely seen the girl frown or be frustrated over anything. Let alone your own bite when it comes to Soshiro's mixed signals.

So it had been a sudden whiplash, seeing her so frightened above you. Her voice had been unusually drawled and shaky as she repeated your name. Trying to keep you awake despite the far off look you had in the depths of your irises.

Wait.

Why was it so blurry all of a sudden?

Where were you again?

Right.

You were injured. And from the look on her face, it was probably worse than you had realized. The trickle of an unfamiliar liquid slid down your forehead to the very height of your cheek. Where you could’ve sworn a clawed hand had been there to comfort you.

Larger than your own, and definitely plated with armor. Gently grazing the very skin of your cheek.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

It's starting to hurt. The pain on your lower back had suddenly hit you like a metric ton of weighted bricks. Like something jagged and sharp had punctured through you. A result from a bad fall.

“Sweetheart. Keep yer’ eyes open alright?”

You heard a deep rumble from the side. And your eyes pried away from Okonogi's disturbed features. Suddenly enamored by the wine red irises that looked at you as if you had gone through hell and back.

Had it really been that bad?

Last you checked, you were narrowly able to escape Kaiju's attacks. The flashes of its flaky features had encompassed your mind’s eye. And the ground below you had bellowed like a monster’s mouth. Suddenly ripping open as a shockwave had violently lifted you from your feet.

And like a leaf on a windy day, you were blown to the side. Crashing harshly against the window of a boutique. A stray shard puncturing your lower back to the point of near paralysis. And it leaves you barely conscious to see the not so lucky victims that tried to escape the Kaiju.

One group in particular had been crushed by the rubble of a building. And somehow the scent of blood and bones was enough to knock you out cold. Their downfall would’ve made you vomit, had you not been injured and too dizzy to think about it all.

And as morbid as it sounded, you had been fortunate enough to have only been thrown aside. Sacked into a world of pain which had reminded you that you were very much alive. It had been a miracle that Soshiro found you when he did. Despite the slight sprain on his ankle and the sores he felt in the muscles of his arms. He forced himself to run. Empowered to meet with you, ushered by the help of Number 10’s powers.

And like clockwork he was led straight to you. The fears he had once buried deep in the back of his brain had all came flooding through.

And he didn’t know what to do.

…

You heard a few voices then.

Although it was barely comprehensible, you could make out a few distinct ones from the array of shouts. Your name in particular was whispered in a prayer. Begging you not to fall asleep despite the odd temptation to. And sure enough, the back and forth argument you heard between two figures was enough to keep your mind and heart racing with urgency. The look between Okonogi and Soshiro’s face had all been so different than usual that it frightens you so.

But despite the noise, despite the shouting. You heard him in clear daylight. Like it had been the only voice in the room. Isolated from the rest who had rushed in a frenzy.

“I got ya’ alright? I’m here baby. I’m right here.”

His reassurances had blanked when his voice cracked. Desperate like he had been ready to cry. The way your name had escaped his lips was almost hesitant. As if he didn't deserve to call you out. And you wanted to stop him before his thoughts could drift further. But your voice had failed you when you needed it most. A soft cry escaping your lips instead.

I'm okay.

I'm here.

I'm alive.

All of that died the moment it tried to leave your throat. And without those very words. Soshiro's face was left to contort. As if he were the one in pain instead of you. And how he'd wished that were the case.

“Let me through!”

You heard him scream. And your eyes had focused just enough to see Okonogi and a few nurses blocking his pathway to you. Desperately trying to push past them despite the grievances.

The sight had been a blur.

One second your vision was fine. The next you had felt the telltale signs of drowsiness hit you. And you feel the way the pain medication had started to kick in when your eyes had isolated itself from the world. Your body’s exhaustion hits you squarely on the chest down to your very toes. And when you had been dragged to the next room over. Soshiro had been the last face you had seen before separation. Sleep pulling you over until your breath is taken from you in that instance.

Your name had been the only thing Soshiro could say afterwards.

“I said let me through–That's an order from your Superior Officer, Okonogi.” Soshiro had warned her. Voice uncharacteristically deep when issuing an order. It was normally never used in this way. Such a tone was only ever used to command Number 10 when he had been too stubborn to listen.

But the bespectacled girl knew better than to fan the flame. And in retrospect, she out of anyone would understand his frustrations the most. Yet she stood her ground. Gently shaking her head at her heated friend.

“Vice Captain.” Okonogi started. Hands already raised to try and calm him down. And she could see it in his eyes; the way it subconsciously followed the rolling bed they had put you in.

Dragging your bed into another room where only the best medical practitioners had worked on you. And yet despite that, he couldn't find it in himself to sit still. His gut sinking at the mere thought of you getting worse than when he had already found you in. And he was willing to bet Weapons 10 had all but read the blatant emotions he displayed on his sleeve. With or without having to delve into his mind.

He was in utter ruin just from your condition.

“-Please understand. You cannot, in under any circumstances enter the surgery room, sir.”

“To hell with that!”

The scream had made Okonogi frown. And Soshiro had half a mind to push past the smaller woman. And rush forward with Number 10's help. But he stopped midway. Reminding himself that his suit could go on a rampage at any time. And right now, he did not want to expose Okonogi and a handful of civilians to Number 10's war-ridden desires. His deep baritones had instead vanished for more firm ones. Unlike the resentment from prior. Oddly curt in his delivery.

“Move. Or I’ll do somethin’ drastic.” He steps forward.

A threat is a threat, and he hoped that would at least be enough to convince the bespectacled girl to move. Yet Okonogi had known him for far too long to actually perceive it as one. And she looks unfazed by his words.

“Sir please.” She pleaded. “It'll only worry you more.”

Her voice was gentle. Understanding even. It almost reminded him of the way you speak at times. Stern but with a hint of softness when it came to his stubbornness. And how he wished it was you he was talking to right now.

“Just please try to calm down. We should get your own wounds treated first and then we can-”

“Fuck no. I'm going in there and-”

“Hoshina.” The stern voice of their Captain had made them both flinch. And the heavy cleats of Mina Ashiro'a footsteps had gotten louder as she had made her way closer to the two.

“Captain Ashiro.” Soshiro had spoken with a much more leveled tone than he did earlier. Hand raising into a salute as the rest followed suit. Though even in his greeting, his frustrations had still been made entirely clear. And he was more than willing to face insubordination just to get to you. But Mina was one step ahead of him.

“Hoshina. You’re causing a disturbance and deliberately disrupting the medical wing from doing their job--I'd let you run some laps. But I can see you're injured.”

Soshiro had glanced down at his body, a light scoff emerging from his lips when she had noticed the way he stood, limping.

“Patch your own wounds up and we can discuss it later.”

And Soshiro had frowned at the way she immediately knew. A sixth sense perhaps that he had been getting sloppy. And sometimes he feared Mina Ashiro would kick him out of the Third because of it. But Mina made no such accusation, instead her eyes had been understanding.

Firm as they usually are, she, like Okonogi, was quite aware of your relationship with Soshiro. And by all means, she understood his sentiment.

Today had been a jumbled mess. And Soshiro was practically facing the very brunt of it all.

With you as its victim.

“But-”

“That's an order, Vice Captain. Do not make me repeat myself.” Her stern reply had been met with his half-meant glare. Red irises swirling with thoughts before ultimately concluding that Mina had been right. Okonogi too. He'd just been too stubborn to see it.

And for a good few seconds, he finally drops his own staring.

Reluctant as he had finally turned around. Facing Okonogi with a sort of defeated look in his eyes. Uncharacteristic to her as he'd normally be so cheery, even in the face of impending death.

He'd be thrown into a pit. And as long as he was still kickin’ he'd probably end up smiling and joking about it the next day.

This had definitely been a first for the two to witness.

And although Mina had not usually been the closest to Soshiro. He couldn't help but make an exception this time. She'd waive him of running laps, not as an officer. But as her friend. And a stern hand was placed squarely on his shoulder. Gently giving it a pat of reassurance. One that Okonogi would follow up with her own.

“It'll be okay. Right Captain?” Okonogi glanced between the two.

“That's right. I'll see to it personally that she gets the best care. For now, get yourself patched up–That'll be the punishment you get for speaking to your superior officer.” She awkwardly spoke. Though a small reassuring smile had cracked on the face of her usually hardened expressions.

And such a sentiment from both the girls had silenced him before he could think of another protest to answer with.

“understood.” He begrudgingly spoke. His hand balling into tight fists at the possibility that you'd wake up without him by your side.

Bronze was made to last, yet it wasn't exempt from tarnish after all.

“Good. I'll inform you shortly once her treatment is done–Okonogi.”

“Yes?” Her reply had been immediate.

“Make sure his wounds are treated. And, I expect a detailed report on Number 10's latest excursion later.”

“Roger.” Okonogi had saluted. And Soshiro watched her as she slowly walked past them. Entering the very same room where he had not even had the chance to take a glimpse in.

His arms had gently felt the pull to another direction. Okonogi had done well at Mina's request as he had all but dragged his feet further away from the blaring red lights of the operating room.

And the flicker of your sleeping face was all that’s left before he too was separated somewhere else.

A place where he was left to wonder what will become of you. And for a moment, his distinct thought was a scenario where he hadn't met you.

If only he hadn't asked you out that day..things would've turned differently.

Right?

…

Your eyes blew wide open. The strangled breaths you took were caught on your throat as you could smell the bitter antiseptics nip the back of your nostrils. It reminded you of a hospital. That of which you had the unpleasant experience of having to frequent anytime Soshiro would come back to base injured.

Often you'd be on the other side of his bed. A frown on your face as the condition of his health had been on the top of your mind. And each time with a smile, he'd make a joke to ease the tension in the room. A signal to indicate he had been alright. Despite the lack of words you two would exchange.

Habitually it was you unharmed. You left to worry at his bedside.

So it had been a rare sight indeed, to find yourself on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Laid in thin hospital robes. Connected to a needle of an IV drip. The constant flow of medicine made you drowsy and your thoughts jumbled into a mesa of numbness. And if you had looked at the amount of bandages wrapped around your torso you'd surely start squirming in place.

But just when you were about to scrutinize the heavy onset of your heartrate’s monitor. The blaring sound was all but silenced when you heard the familiar tremors of his voice. Smooth and soft, like you had always heard them as.

“Yer’ finally awake.”

You turned to his direction. Bright eyes had met his own which had been as familiar as it was squinted. His irises were more crystalline and tired than usual. Puffy on the corners, like he hadn't been given a chance to get a good night’s sleep between your hospitalization.

And yet, despite the unfamiliarity of his somber tone; the despondent frowns he'd make.

His voice had been the sound you missed the most.

“Soshiro..” You croak out. Voice dry like someone had stuffed cotton down your throat. And you try your best to scoot closer. To move and stand like you had always done when faced towards him. But this greeting would cut short. Hands restrained by firm bandages and hollow tubes that weighed heavily on your skin. And you hadn't realized the mumble of a barely audible whimper from your mouth. One that Soshiro could not miss even if he tried to.

Soshiro noticed the way you had squirmed. Struggling to sit up. Which made him all the more vigilant. And he ends up closing the small leatherbound book he'd always brought with him. Sinking it back on his pocket where you had been accustomed to seeing it.

Walking much closer to you in an attempt to calm and shush you.

“Where are we?” You asked him. And his fingers hesitantly graze your cheek. The same way when you had blood trickling down it moments prior. “Base. The Medical wing took ya’ in.”

His words were oddly curt in delivery. And although the average person who knew Soshiro on a surface level could probably not tell. You were able to differentiate the distinct way his voice had sounded odd. Such sentiments laid rather clearly for you. And you can see the layer of guilt etched on his stiff face.

“Okonogi?” You inquired. And he gives you a nod.

“Safe. I'll call her for ya’ later so she doesn't worry.” and you let out a breathless sigh. Your head slumping against the cushion of the soft pillow. The lingering feeling of glass and cement on you had all been but a pipe dream now. A memory that you'd soon forget.

And how Soshiro wished it was that easy for him to forget.

“How are you feelin? I can call the nurse for ya if anything hurts.” He moves to turn around.

Eyes already searching for the small caller that was given to him in case of emergencies. Though your hand, as painful as it felt, had pulled him in. Weak fingertips grabbing the sleeves of his jacket to refuse him. Your eyes remained squinted as they were sharp despite the fatigue. And you caught the glimpse of bandages wrapped around his skin. A stark testament to the rest of his unblemished face.

“What happened?” You had immediately tried to get up. Alert in the way you had wanted to reach out and inspect his own injuries. But the fatigue of your body had stopped you. Causing you to slump forward and unto his willing arms who had been cautious in the way he handled you.

“Easy. You're still…not well.” Soshiro gently nudged you back down. Hand placed squarely on your chest to ease you into the pillow. But you stubbornly persisted. Compromising by sitting up against the bed's headboard instead.

“That doesn't matter. What's more important is, what happened to you. Are you alright?”

“That doesn't matter? Are you seriously askin’ me that right now?” For a moment you mistake his scoff for a laugh. His hands which had held you firmly had just as quickly left leaving the spot on your skin cold and yearning for his proximity.

Had you said something wrong? This aggression was unlike him.

Soshiro was rarely this agitated. And your voice couldn't help shrivel in meek irritation. Unsure whether you should respond back with much the same turbulence.

“Should I…not be asking you that?” You spoke unsure. And he shakes his head in turn.

“You were dead-still for five days straight and yer tellin’ me THAT doesn't matter right now?”

You didn't know how else to reply. The way his tone had shifted into a scoff had made you double back to glare at his face. For once since you awoke, you truly saw how tense he had been. Gone was his usual suave smile that made you laugh or cry in between meetings.

He had been too worried to focus on that. But you had been too frustrated at this sudden change. That it made your voice come more forcefully than you anticipated. “Well isn't it obvious? I'm worried about you.”

You replied. Your own expression had squished into rapid vexation. And you see the way he takes a few steps back, too far for your touch to reach. And it pained you that you couldn't just stand up and make him face you like you usually could.

“And you think I don't feel the same!?” He spoke loudly. Causing your shoulders to flinch in turn. One he had regretted as soon as he spoke. And yet, he continued.

“You don't think..that I didn't nearly kill myself when I found you bleeding in the middle of that goddamn street?” He pointed out the window.

And your expression had turned liquid at the images that flash in your mind. Imagining how he had found you. His thoughts, his expressions..you could only imagine the torment he felt the moment he found you. Barely breathing.

His breaths came in gasps. Eyes widened so that you can clearly see the crimson of his eyes peeking through. And suddenly you notice the way Soshiro had oddly been so vulnerable in front of you. The quips on your sore throat began to die down when you saw how frustrated–how fearful he had looked in the moment. And gods did you wish you woke up sooner just to comfort him.

“No–that’s not what I meant. I only wanted to know if you were okay. Is it so wrong to ask?”

“Well maybe ya’ shouldn't have asked at all.” He huffed out. Looking away from you with regret lingering on his features.

It was stupid. He thought To get so frustrated over something so tiny. But as much as Soshiro Hoshina excluded the guise of a proper adult. He had been flawed just like the rest of everyone else. And he'd be lying if he didn't have his moments of doubt. Often scrutinizing in the lonely privacy of his home. Where he knew no one would bother him.

That is of course, before you had entered his life.

But not everything was understood between the two of you. Okonogi was a witness to the piles of misunderstandings you both had caused. And without help you two were likely never to get along, habitually falling for the same skittish routine you had played at.

But a miracle happened. With him belonging to you. And you belonging to him.

So why was it that your heart cramped so much? Surely it was not the pains of a physical injury. Let alone a type of sickness.

Instead it was struck by simple bad habits and insecurities. One of which even you had trouble dealing with. And the loud firmness of his voice had made such an impact on your heart that you began to frown. Unable to hold back your bite.

“What is your problem!?” You started. “Listen, can we just please have this conversation some other time. And then we can-”

“And then we can, what? Do you want me to just sit here and forget that all happened?” He had interjected.

And suddenly you feel your brows knit tightly. Eyes feeling heavy from the burst of a headache you had gotten. Of all the times Soshiro wanted to argue, it's the time you had just woken up.

But he wasn't entirely unjustified.

There have been plenty of moments where you had fanned the flames of a fire that should've ended right then and there. Your word choice is poor and your temperament less than ideal.

For as frustrated as you had been, you understood Soshiro's sentiments. And your hands had raised as a sort of white flag. Not needing this fight to escalate more than it should.

Not when you were both injured and all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms.

“-Listen Soshiro, I didn't mean to upset you. I only wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Does that matter?” He repeats your own words. And you had to hold back another jab of acknowledgement. Smart in the way he played his words. It almost made you want to laugh. But this time, your intent came from sincerity.

And his small play of mockery had been a sight for sore eyes, since you had quickly gotten the gist of what he had been trying to convey. Wrong in your choice of words. This time, you correct your mistake. Sincerity and all.

“Yes it matters. More than anything– of course it matters.” You had told him. And you see the way Soshiro’s mouth quivers into a small tremble. Uncanny when he'd normally be so laid-back and sweet when it came to you.

And how you'd wish he just took a breather and relaxed. Maybe take a break so that they could talk things out. Without yelling preferably. But that had not been possible. At least not just yet from the way he replied.

“Well had I not made it in time, you woulda’ been dead. Do you hear me?”

“And yet, Here. I. Am. A witness to your unwarranted behavior.”

“Behavior that's justified because I shouldn't have let you outta my sight.”

Silence had followed soon after. Your mouth gapes for a moment to think of a reply when the words slip past your lips. And Soshiro would note how uncharacteristic that was, even for you. He, who was always used to your quick replies and clever jabs. But it seems his words had cut too far this time.

And he pried his eyes away from you. Chest heaving as he ran a hand through his face. “I shouldn't have..”

He composed himself. Clearing his throat whilst you looked at him with an etched frown on your face. One that he wished would go away. But he had been the cause of this.

He had been the one to make your smile go away. And it somehow makes him feel even worse.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I just-”

“Soshiro.” Your voice sounded like bells. And when he looked up, relief had immediately sagged his shoulders upon seeing your gaze blown wide open. Not at all restrained by the pain medication and exhaustion you had felt.

And your hand had gently reached up to grab his own. Gentle in the way her thumb caressed his knuckle which had been previously so bruised and bloodied.

And although there was a struggle to reach for his hand. Your touch was met halfway. Gently threading your much softer skin that would've paled in comparison to a blanket had he not taken glances.

“What happened back there wasn't your fault. We couldn't have known that the Kaiju would follow me back to the shelter.” You whisper. And Soshiro's expression had turned serious. Like he held a weight that you couldn't possibly fathom even if you tried.

“And yet I let it slip away.”

“I let it get to you, and now you're in here because of me.” He had wanted to so badly pull away from you. To walk himself out before he could be tempted to lean back into those pretty eyes of yours. But the moment he met your sight.

Those sad eyes of yours had been his journey's end. And he couldn't do that to you. Not when your expression had frustratingly asked him to stay.

“And yet it was also because of you that I'm still alive and breathing, Soshiro.” You reasoned. “You don't give yourself enough credit. If it hadn't been for you I would've been-”

“Dead.” He cut you off. “You would've been dead.”

“No. You wouldn't have allowed that. You're the Vice Captain, remember? If there's anywhere safer for me, it's by your side.” You didn't know whether such assurances had really made him listen. The way he was assured in that answer of his wasn't a mere fortnight conclusion. It was as if he had been thinking of such consequences for a much longer time, and that alone makes your heart sink.

So you scooted closer. Moving in to try and pull him down so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. And just when you were snaking it through his shoulders. His hands had stopped you midway.

His calloused palms holding on to the points of your elbows as he gently pries you off of him.

Normally this would be met with your pout. Maybe another bout of force just let the stubborn man look your way. But you had been too weak, still healing from an injury you had no control over. And his response is far too swift for your liking. Leaving your arms missing the warmth his body could provide you.

“No, no, no, no, no–no. You don't understand. I don't deserve to be anywhere near you right now.” He had managed to convince himself. Looking away as the anxiety within you had spiked upon his words.

“Soshiro. Listen to me we can-”

“What I’m saying is that we're done here.”

You had blinked. Looking up at him who had towered above your bed. A somber look on his expression despite the daunting words he had spoken. He looked passive. Unaffected even. Like he had been ready for this moment which had been planned for a long time coming. And your voice could only muster a feeble whisper.

“What do you mean we're done?”

“It's over.” Soshiro continued. Not once paying your face any heed. Lest he change his mind from doing you a greater good he deemed correct. “I don't want anything to do with ya’ anymore.”

If this had been a dream you would've laughed at the way he delivered such a sentiment.

You'd somehow suppress the inner workings of your shock and you'd wake up to find the morning documents you promised yourself to do; in the desk untouched where it usually had been.

And by the time you left your room, you'd habitually laugh it off and tell Soshiro about it in the afternoon just to get a chuckle and light scolding out of him. The usual banter that admittedly, had always been the highlight of your day.

But this had not been a dream.

And hearing him say that. Had hurt more than you anticipated it seemed. And your voice cracks before you can even register yourself speaking.

"Is this because you think I can't love you?" The sudden appearance of tears had painted your face. And you had tried to sniff away the bigger ones that threatened to spill over. But to no avail.

And Soshiro’s eyes widen at the telltale signs of your crying. An unexpected third party which had not been invited to the list of things he ought to do. And his head reels to face you once more. Seeing your face redden with a shame he'd never thought he'd see.

"Do you really think that I'm incapable of willingly loving you? Even beyond that fucking sword of yours-" And Soshiro had all but shook his head. Remorseful in the way tears had jerked from your eyes.

"That ain't the point!"

"Then what IS the point!?" Your tears had blurred your vision. And your hand had embarrassingly moved up to wipe it. One that Soshiro had wished to do for himself had he not been so stubborn.

“-What is the point if I can't make sense of you trying to leave me?"

The turmoil in your voice had been made present. One so encompassing that Soshiro couldn't ignore. And as much as it hurts you to scream. It hurt him to see you suddenly cry like this. Someone he associated as being so usually strong-willed, crumbling in a few short words from him. And suddenly, it feels as if he wants to swallow back his words. Mouth churned into regret when he had moved to take a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, please..I-”

He shook his head. Suddenly finding himself kneeling down in front of your bed. And when your eyes had met his, it was as if his heart had stopped momentarily. Too focused on the way you had looked at him in desperation. Mixed with both physical and emotional pain.

And he had been the cause of that. Regrettably he knew he had been the cause of that.

"Is the idea of me loving you THAT terrible of a concept to you?" you spoke flimsily. Words betraying the tone you wanted to convey. And somehow you felt worse than when blood was unnaturally seeping out of your wound.

And his own body. One that betrayed his own commands, had a mind of its own. Strong arms wrapping around your bandaged ones that had still been healing from the minor cuts you had accumulated. And the warm steady beat of his heart had drowned you back into reality. Cheeks pressed against his and regrettably, soiling his jacket.

Not that he minded of course. Far too focused on wiping your tears away. Shushing you when you'd shudder from the breathless sniffles he'd been the cause of.

"Shit- no sweetheart no. I didn't mean it."

“I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” His instant apologies and regrets had echoed for a few moments. The sudden urge to calm you down had him reeling just to caress your shoulders. Weary of the injuries you were faced with as you cried in his arms.

And the struggling shudders you were faced with had all been too painful to see. Comical in the way he had all but worsened your condition when stressing a healing patient had been the last thing people needed to be reminded of.

Yet here you were, struggling to even cry when every breath would agitate any bandaged injuries you'd gotten. And it had been his fault entirely.

“I'm not leaving ya. I'm right here..” He whispered. And you had forcibly glanced up. Seeing the way his distress had wrinkled those usually foxy eyes. Like he had suddenly gained a keen sense of his stupidity and finally realized that his sentiments were not helping you. And upon realization you couldn't help but feel how silly all this had been.

You would've laughed had you not wasted such excess energy into crying your heart out in front of him. Likely an accumulation from the week's worth of not being able to see each other.

That and other things, which were obvious enough.

But you spoke. Wanting to pick his thoughts apart. Reason with him the next time this may happen. And your eyes flutter away the tears as you had finally managed to calm down enough to ask him.

“Then why? Why even suggest that?” Your voice had been soft. His thumbs move to caress the stray tears away from your face. Even moving to casually use his sleeves to gently wipe your cheeks in assurance of his presence. And you close your eyes at the simple gesture. Suddenly feeling much better now that he had been so close to you like this.

Crap, he set himself up didn't he? And just when he had this all planned out too.

In the wake of your hospitalization, he had planned to leave you. Somehow make you change occupations. Maybe work for a tech company where your life wouldn't be on the line. Where you'd be far away from his life and you could live a happy, seperate life from him.

But who was he kidding? Even he thinks it's stupid. The idea of doing you the greater good.

It had sounded conclusive back then.

He'd likely die young, a Kaiju attack that he had lacked defenses in no doubt. And somehow, you'd weasel your way out and live an old happy life.

Like bronze. Tarnished but long lasting.

But you had seen through his intention. And every right to refuse such a concept had knocked him over the head. A simple shed of tears was all it took for such a carefully built wall to crumble. His resolve in shambles at the mere thought of you leaving.

And to take that away from you. To separate the both of you like that? It felt wrong. And somehow his stupidity makes him laugh.

And the next words uttered had been voluntary on his part. Sloppy but it came out from an honest place. That even he doubted its power.

"Because, it scares me how much I need you. Okay?" He leans in. Head against your own so that your noses would touch. And you could see the little cracks on that smile of his. A stark contrast to the facade of laughs he'd usually give off. And it makes your heart flutter upon such fleeting confessions.

"Just hearing that voice of yours is enough to wreck me. And ruin me for anybody else."

"And when I saw you. Layin' there with that faraway look on your eyes. I just couldn't fucking breathe."

The way his eyes had not once left yours had felt like the first time you had met him. In that room with the Captain watching your interactions.

You had been less amicable to each other by then. Always second guessing each other by investigating the little nuances of your expressions. But somehow, the difficulties in reading each other had not been so far fetched. And the longer you two would spend time together. The more you had an inkling of what the other was thinking. And eventually an unspoken understanding had come between the both of you.

One that required no words to speak. Nor assistance from anywhere else. Just you and him. Nothing more.

"What If I lose you? You're all I fucking have.."

"Soshiro.” You whispered. Suddenly feeling the weight of his words drop down on you upon his realization. And you shake your head in turn. Immediately running your hands on the soft tresses of his hair. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“And what if I did?” He was quick to interject. “What if I had been a second too late and you were killed?”

“-And yet I'm still here. See?” You moved his intertwined hands to your chest. Firmly letting him feel the pulse of your heart. A repetition had to be made in order to convince him. And if you had to do such things a million times, there was no doubt you’d do it a thousand more times.

And his hand couldn't help but press firmly. Gingerly looking everywhere to check your wellbeing. Satisfied when he had settled in your slightly puffy eyes that he had been all too remorseful of when he found it too pretty to look away from.

You leaned in. Pressing light kisses against his cheeks to calm his thoughts. The voice in the back of his head all but silenced. When the adrenaline kicked in, because somehow he found himself unfocused when he caught your lips in his.

It was short and sweet.

Far different from the many picturesque and grandiose kisses he'd read about in books. And far too slow amidst the rush hours of your working breaks. Where you'd snag a few touches here and there just to get a rise out of each other. No this had been far too different. Far too gentle than it normally was. But despite the innocence of such a contact. It had made a more lasting impact on him.

The hesitation implied vulnerability, and without it. You'd be remiss to see Soshiro's true feelings underneath it. And it makes you pull away to rub your own hands against his chest. Admiring the way his uniform had engulfed him warmly in the cold air conditioning in the room.

All that matters was that they were okay now.

All that matters is that they are together now. Is that so much to ask?

“I won't die so easily, Soshiro.” Your assurances had made him perk up. Head still leaning against yours where you could see the pretty hallmarks of his tired eyes.

“I may not be able to know..everything in that damn head of yours. But what I do know? Is that I have unwavering trust in you. And that's the only reason I made it out alive today.” Your voice had made him crack a smile. One that makes you raise a brow at him. Suddenly fixated on the way his demeanor had changed so easily when you had spoken your piece.

And Soshiro, ever the enigma that he was. Had stopped his reluctance around you. Finally getting a chance to relax as his hands slotted its way to the bounce of your cheek and jaw, which he had always found so endearing to touch and look at.

He couldn't help but run soothing circles on your flesh. A habit he might've picked up on when reading a few romances here and there.And it makes you wonder if he had always been this sweet. A layer unknown go you that you'd love to rediscover, if only he'd put down that smart mouth of his.

“I think that was ‘bout a week ago.” He corrected you. His face is as snarky as his comment. And that was enough to shake your head.

But of course, that had been too much to ask. Too far and few inbetween. You spoke too soon.

“Fine. A week ago.” You affirmed. Though this time you had rolled your eyes with a laugh of your own.

And the two of you had simply sat there. Soshiro rocking you back and forth as best he could without risking your injuries. Hands against the plush of your waistline, carefully making sure the stitches were still intact. But the warmth had remained.

This time he had been less distant. More calm and understanding like he had usually been. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Do you mean that?”

“Mean what?” You had blinked with a smile on your face. Sweet as it came, you had a viper that you knew how to use. And Soshiro wasn't ever one to stop confronting it. Even if he had to break out of his shell to ask the harder questions between you both.

“When you said you loved me.” He added.

And he wouldn't be able to miss that pretty smile forming on the corners of your lips. Leaning against him until the softness of your lips had grazed his chapped ones. Though you’d note, it was still gentle. Still his. And still yours to capture should you want it.

“Do I have to kiss you again and prove it?” You mutter out.

“Do you not want to right now?”

And without a doubt did you lean in. Capturing his lips with a crooked smile in between. Soft and sensual. And you had missed this. Missed him who had not gotten the chance to set things right by you.

How long had it been since you had taken the time to really kiss him? Without the rush of prying eyes, nor the responsibilities that came with their work. It was just a kiss, yet in this moment it felt like everything.

Slow and reassuring. Without the need of words to complicate things. It had conveyed everything he needed to know. And when you pulled back, Soshiro could see the pretty pearls of your teeth. Admiring the way your lips had bruised red from how eagerly he had captured your mouth. And he wouldn't dream of being anywhere else in the world right now. Not when you had looked so perfect. Hospital gown and all.

“Does that prove my point?”

He laughs. Something you had always thought to be pretty.

“Maybe.” The familiar trace of his hand had brushed past your hair. Straightening out the few loose strands that could obscure him from your face. And his smile, although back to the usual cat-like facade, had now softened up significantly upon your presence. And you had prided the way this man had looked at you like you had offered him the world.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at ya. I just-”

“Shh..I know.” Your hand had touched his lips. Admiring the way it too, had reddened from your previous kisses.

“I'm tougher than bronze, you know? I'm not so simple as to let a few words bend me sideways.”

“Okonogi tells me the same.”

“And right she was. You should learn a thing or two from her.” And a laugh bubbles between the two of you. He had to remind himself to save his apologies later for Okonogi. For despite her absence, even now she was playing cupid for them. The small voice in his head urging him to tell you how he truly felt.

And without warning. He managed to say it outloud.

“I love you.”

Those words had struck a melodic chord in you. Ones that made you look back at him in temporary stupor. Before finally turning giddy at the way he so gently said it. No remorse. No regret. A fact even she couldn't deface as mockery. When there'd normally be a trick of a joke involved.

And in your quiet smiles held a deep admiration for him. Ones that squeezed Soshiro's hand despite the difficulty of your injuries.

But that didn't matter. Injuries heal after all. And right now, you had been far too focused on him to mind the slowly subsiding pain on your body.

“What's this all of a sudden? You're not joking are you?” You ask cautiously. Though a smile still remained on your face. Far too elated at hearing those words. And from the look on his face, you could tell he had been serious in his admission.

“It's not sudden. I just–” Soshiro lets out a small chuckle. Not entirely sure why he feels so nervous in the wake of your question.

“I meant to say it that day. Before the Kaiju attacked. I wanted it to be perfect for ya and..” His voice stops when you lean in. Cuddling him down as best you could in the safety of the hospital's bedsheets. The understanding look in your eyes had all but told him that you knew. And it makes him think twice about having to explain things to you again. Not when you could now read him so well. Especially in the most important aspects of his life.

“I know. You don't need to tell me twice."

He heard you speak. Though the hint of playfulness in your voice hadn't subsided. A reminder that you had been slowly regaining your strength. And pretty soon, you'd be pulling him down by the collar just to kiss him breathless if you wanted to.

But for now, he was gonna have to take care of you. Take the lead and deal with your smart comments. And it makes him smile knowing he'd get to hear such witty banters from you again. More so now that you were awake.

“Really now? And I thought you'd be happy to have me say it outloud for ya.”

His chuckle had made his chest rumble. And you could feel the pleasant vibration as your head fell squarely on his chest. A roll in your eyes as you had hummed in reply.

“Well…I suppose it couldn't hurt for you to say it again.”

And he would. He'd do it as long as you'd allow him that privilege.

And this time, he too had read you like an open book. Somehow fitting perfectly in the way they understand the other without needing to speak. They needed to work on it. They needed each other more than ever before.

So it was lucky their bonds were more lasting than bronze. And fate had brought them together.

[celestiamour]

Would you do Peter and his spouse welcoming their first child to narnia if they had never left and gone back to the professors house

ft. pevensies & f! reader’s daughter (& peter x f! reader) — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ welcoming the birth of the first heir of narnia┊0.7k words

setting: the golden age contains: mentions of labor & one of death

➤ author's note: i probably went off prompt because i assumed that you meant peter & the reader having their first kid in the golden age, but i didn’t focus it on them and focused it on the kid so feel free to send in something else!!

news that the queen had gone into labor spread like wildfire throughout the palace and spilled into the rest of the kingdom, becoming the only thing anyone could talk about for the day since the realm hadn’t seen the birth of a son of adam or daughter of eve in a hundred years after the reign of the white witch. all of narnia held its breath in anticipation for the safety of the queen and the healthy arrival of her child, knowing that the magic of the lands would protect her yet still nervous at the slim chance of a worse-case scenario. one half of cair paravel was bustling with maids running around like headless chickens to tend to their queen while the other half didn’t feel like they could even speak above a whisper for these hours out of nervousness, many simply loitering about instead of working and patiently waiting for an update since they didn’t feel like they could do anything at all until then.

oh, but when the first piercing cry of an infant rang throughout the hallway, it was like the entire world stilled for all the attention to be focused on the first heir of the prophesied monarchs: a daughter of eve with the same royal sapphire eyes as her father and the smile of her mother that shines brighter than the sun. the next high queen who will someday rule with the same grace and wisdom as her parents once did before they eventually pass, but for now, she is a little bundle of joy who doesn’t even know her own name, much less how important she is or the future she’s destined for.

peter couldn’t help but shed a tear of happiness at the sight of her, sitting next to you in the bed and gently holding her for the first time. a product of your shared love and devotion for each other through thick and thin, so frail and delicate placed perfectly in his arms and without a single thought in her little head as she stuck out her pudgy arms at him to touch his face. and just like your love that started out small, she will grow into something so beautiful and powerful that its power will be written into history books about the beginning of narnia’s golden age.

lucy is gushing over how cute she is and immediately runs over to pinch her chubby cheeks, so thrilled that she’s no longer the youngest in the family (even if she’ll always be the baby to her siblings) and to be the cool aunt that she’s always dreamed of becoming— the one who helps her sneak out of boring lessons for an adventure and the one who shields her from her father’s scolding once they get caught, she’ll always be your daughter's favorite relative because of all of the whimsical memories and helping her to always be a child at heart.

susan is calm as always with a glint of excitement and adoration in her eyes when she sees her new niece. she’ll act like a tutor of sorts for her as she grows older, teaching her about the ways of royalty and proper etiquette for young ladies (which are often the very classes that lucy occasionally assists in skipping). despite that, your daughter will deeply appreciate her older aunt for everything she does for her: for helping her out when she fights with you, for teaching her that a lady doesn’t always need to be submissive, and for all the knowledgeable advice that she will carry with her for her entire life.

edmund is just in awe at the very fact that he is an uncle, knowing that this day would have come inevitably and still in disbelief that it happened. he’s a bit of a bad-influence uncle, accidentally teaching your child swear words, helping her prank her father on occasion, and swinging her around on his shoulders when she’s still little, but he always means well and teaches her that being nobility doesn’t mean that you need to give up your sense of humor.

mr tumnus was the one to announce to the people that the queen safely delivered a healthy heir, a daughter named aurora which has latin roots meaning “dawn” to represent the dawn of her generation of rulers. she will be a beloved monarch who will look over narnia and its inhabitants with the same love that her parents raised her with, eventually receiving the worthy title of “high queen aurora, the gracious.”

[agustdiv1ne]

telepathy (m) — cbg [TEASER]

OUT NOW! READ HERE!

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok??)

wc: tbd (projected to be around 7-8k)

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, there isn't much in this teaser, but here are the warnings for the rest of the fic so far: mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way...it will all make sense, trust 🙏

note: this is inspired by a p*rn audio LMAO,,, lmk if you'd like to be tagged via an ask, or just drop a comment below ^^

masterlist

☆ TEASER ☆

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again.

he should do something about this little development, shouldn't he?

again, if you would like to be tagged, shoot me an ask or comment down below!! and if you'd like to join my permanent taglist, please do so through this form!

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Nineteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: AH this newest update has been so fun and emotional to write I'm ngl, but I'm so excited to post it!! Thanks to @procrastinatinglikeapro for proof reading it and for being so lovely with all her ideas! Please read the warninggggs, I hope everyone enjoys it, it’s a long one 🩶

Warnings: smut, feelings over scars, talks of death/selfharm in the sense of not taking care of yourself (past tense), mention of drug use

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

There were much worse ways to wake up than to a head of messy curls between your legs.

I’d been dreaming about something, I knew that much. Though the thought of it was now hazy as I inhaled deeply and shifted against bedsheets, hand reaching out to feel for the body that had fallen asleep beside me. Only it wasn’t there.

My brow pinched itself into a small frown, confused, and I blinked blearily into the dim light of my bedroom. A faint chuckle echoed and I wrinkled my nose at it, tilting my head downwards to peer towards the end of the bed.

The duvet had been shoved away, pooling around my lower legs and over the grinning idiot settled between them. He pressed a soft kiss to my inner thigh, hands gripping my hips with a certain tenderness I wasn’t all that familiar with. 

Instinctively my fingers moved to work their way into his hair, taking root there and tucking a helpless strand up out of his face. “What you doin’?”

My sleep-filled question was only met with another chuckle, then two more gentle kisses. My hips lifted a fraction as my feet planted themselves more evenly on either side of him.

“Matty.” I breathed out airily, wanting a reply, trying my best to remove the remains of sleep which continued to cling to my mind.

“Keep talking.” Matty finally spoke after what felt like an eternity, his breath tickled the skin of my thighs and I fought to withhold a shudder. “You sound so pretty.”

Stupidly, I smiled, blinking down at him slowly and enjoying the feel of him; the pressure of his arms as they rested over the tops of my legs, crowding the outer muscle, and the how his nose nudged the curve of my thigh, sending a wave of goosebumps over the exposed flesh. “Should I always expect to be woken up this way?”

He nipped me then and I inhaled sharply at the abruptness of it, hands strengthening their hold in his hair. “Would you like that?”

I felt my eyes slip close, letting the rasp of his voice trail up the length of my torso and light a fire somewhere deep in my gut. I hummed in reply, a thumb brushing over his temple when he began to plant kisses up my right leg, getting sloppier and sloppier with each press of his mouth.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” I breathed back to him, spreading my legs even further apart to give him room and shuffling ever so slightly down the bed. “Yeah, I would.”

I felt more than heard his next chuckle. 

My chest tightened, shoulder blades pressing deeper into the mattress. 

“Matty.” I nearly whined, fingers tightening once more.

He retreated completely then, and I wished I hadn’t even spoken when he asked, “What’s wrong?” with a barely there snicker. 

I didn’t pout but it was a near thing, and he must’ve known it too if the smirk he wore gave any implication. “Don’t be a dick, please.”

My hands shifted slightly as he crawled his way back up the bed, bracketing my head between his forearms so that he could lean in for a proper kiss, delving into my mouth without much care for morning breath or the fact that I must have looked a state. 

I grabbed aimlessly at the back of his neck, pressing up into him whilst simultaneously attempting to pull him even closer. I could feel the way he’d angled his knee on one side of my waist to hold himself up and the press of his fingers as they curled their way into my hair. 

Dragging my hands down and across his front, I explored the expanse of his torso, pleased to find that he had already rid himself of the tee he’d gone to sleep in. My thumb brushed over the jut of his hip, tracing the skin I knew was the home to his ‘we are kings' tattoo. I found myself wanting, desperate to explore every part of him.

He broke away to stare down at me.

“God, you don’t-” Matty shook his head and delved back in for another kiss, “Don’t even know,” then another, “What you fucking do to me.” He punctuated those last few words with a succession of quick pecks and when he leant back in to steal another I captured his bottom lip between my teeth, before slowly I let him go.

“Show me then.” I demanded, enjoying having the feel of this man’s full focus on me.

Matty wasted no time and hastily moved his hand downwards to pull at the hem of my top. I lifted myself up slightly from the mattress to help and released a stuttered sigh when he began to work his way down the length of my torso, littering my collar with wet kisses, nipping here and there but never for long. 

I didn’t think much about my scars in that moment, hands finding purchase amongst his hair and neck once more, before I felt his lips skim across the length of a larger one that jumped over my right shoulder. My breath stuttered at the feeling and my hold fell slack at the sudden reality that hit me. 

Matty paused, obviously having sensed my harsh change, and raised his head up towards me slowly, like a person would when they didn’t want to spook a wild horse. He waited, probably trying to decipher the expression I wore.

But my mind had ultimately stopped.

“Squeaks. You good?”

My eyes snapped up to meet his own, then wandered over the expanse of his face. I saw a plethora of emotions there but none were of pity or disgust, and I found myself swallowing at the realisation.

It wasn’t that I’d never shown my scars to anybody before, or purposely gone out of my way to keep them hidden during intimate moments like this- well, at least I hadn’t for a long time now. But before, I’d typically had time to wrap my head around it first, come to terms with the fact that I’d be bearing them to somebody else, or at the very least get to mention it to the other person beforehand. 

This, this wasn’t that. And this was Matty. Matty, who’d probably had countless models in his bed. Matty, a man who was both lusted after and fought over. Matty, who was currently looking down at me with eyes so kind and soft and patient.

I let go of a shaky breath. 

“I’m good.” I finally told him, thankful for the way my voice didn’t waver when I said it.

He smiled down at me, a mischievous thing that eased my lingering doubts and settled my mind, before he was disappearing again. Nose brushing along the bone of my collar and over the milky white scars that littered it, sucking hard and fast at the skin just below my ear and then again at the shell of my shoulder.

I arched up into him, chest rising and falling the lower he got, leaving his mark alongside the rest of them. Only, I found myself wishing his were the ones that always remained.

He looked up at me once he reached the hem of my sleep shorts, an older pair I favoured, striped cotton and rimmed with a narrow strip of lace. I nodded, already knowing what his silent ask would be, and raised my hips up to allow him to drag the material down the length of my legs. 

Matty paused once more after he’d discarded them, tossing them somewhere to the edge of the room. I heard them land with a dull thud I didn’t see, too busy watching him watch me.

–

She was gorgeous.

Had he told her that?

Had he said it enough?

He’d say it again now but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth and he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from her long enough to get his mind to work properly again. Her name on a constant loop in his head.

“Fuck.” He heard himself mutter, hands already reaching out to touch, trailing up the length of her leg, up up up, until they danced between the crease of her thigh. 

Unable to help himself he delved downwards to press another hot open-mouthed kiss to the sweet skin there, smiling at the catch he heard in her breath. “So pretty for me.”

Those hands of hers returned to his hair and he couldn’t fault her for it, she’d seemed like the type to want for something to hold. 

“Matty.” She dragged out and God, did he want to record that sound solely for the purpose of listening to it over and over again whenever he was missing her and had his hand wrapped around himself.

It seemed that someone must’ve been listening to his inner workings of his mind because again she said it not a second later, the same pitch, same breathy exhale. Matty’s dick twitched and he suddenly felt rather restricted in his boxers, but he didn’t dare pull away, too content to just lie there between her thighs.

His kisses grew closer and closer, until she was writhing beneath his mouth, fingers clinging tightly onto his curls. She whimpered and he groaned at the very sound, she seemed to like that though, forcing his face further into her folds. 

Any other time he might have laughed at her sudden boldness, but he was a little preoccupied. The taste of her seemed to explode on his tongue, rich and heady, and he reached up, hands gripping at her hips to pull her more forcefully against his mouth. Four long licks and she outright moaned, loud and free, uncaring in truth, and it only spurred Matty on. 

Quite suddenly he wanted to devour her whole, to keep the taste of her on his tongue always. And so he began to trace his name on her clit. His own selfish need to put his brand on her somehow, his claim. She bucked up against his chin, and he forced her back down. Groaning as his fingers trailed up to join his mouth. 

“Oh, God, oh shit.” He heard her mutter when his tongue delved deeper, her hands twisting in his hair, holding him against her as she chanted. 

She came not long after and Matty continued to lick languidly whilst she shuddered beneath him, drawing harsh and laboured breaths into hollow lungs. He withdrew slightly to look up at her when her hands fell slack in his hair and ran his tongue along the length of his own lip, lapping up what was there. She made quite the picture. Laid out before him, cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling with each new breath she struggled to draw in.

Selfishly he gave one final brush of his thumb over the expanse of her overwhelmed nerves, before forcing himself up onto his knees. 

His chin was quite noticeably wet with the evidence of her pleasure and his tongue ached like fuck all else, but he felt as though he’d gone and started his day the best way he possibly could. 

So with that thought and a satisfied grin, Matty leaned over the edge of the bed to make a grab for the t-shirt he’d thrown there earlier and wiped his face with it, pressing the heel of his hand into his softening cock when he rose.

He felt like a kid, having jizzed in his pants, but he’d gotten off on that almost as much as she had. And although he’d definitely have to shower sooner rather than later, and would surely have to go commando once he was clean, Matty couldn’t find it in him to regret the way it had gone down. 

Fuck, she was maddening. Those sounds she’d made, how responsive she’d been. He only wished that he could scar the experience into his memory.

Tossing the shirt back to the floor, Matty crawled his way up the bed one more, throwing himself onto the chilled sheets beside her, admiring the way her chest continued to move with each deep inhale. His eyes latched onto everything she had to offer him, but mainly the scars she’d been so guarded about before. 

They weren’t as bad as she’d made them out to be. Though he was only drawing that conclusion from the small and quick quips she’d made about them since knowing her, and even those had been rare and few. 

He rather enjoyed the sight of them, weren’t all that different to the look of a tattoo in truth, though he’d never admit to that out loud- he wasn’t that much of a twat, nor insensitive. But still, he found himself wanting to reach out and trail over every jagged point and rounded curve of them. They were a part of her and he found them as equally beautiful as he did those soulful eyes of hers.

His index was grazing a faded pink line before he could think better of it. It rested just below the curve of her breast and looked to have been deep once upon a time, not as deep as a few of the others she bared but far enough for the skin to have raised itself in the shape of a small bump when it had scarred over. 

She didn’t stop his wandering hand. He noticed that after a few minutes had passed between them and the rise of her chest had evened out.

His eyes swept up her side to find her staring carefully back at him, he smiled and watched as she slowly copied the motion. Then witnessed the way her eyes darted downwards, shit. Matty almost went to cover up the wet patch that had seeped into his boxers with his hand but knew that there wasn’t much point. She’d seen it now. 

She wore an expression full of surprise when he looked back up at her again, as well as the beginnings of a smirk too. “Was gonna offer, but…”

Matty rolled his eyes and shoved her teasing smile away from him, she laughed giddily into her pillow.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” He retorted, and sprawled out further on the mattress, tilting his head back far enough to stretch as his eyes fell closed, “But you weren’t the one listening to you moan, babe. Fuck, it was-” He just ended up shaking his head, unable to compare the sound of her to anything right off the top of his head.

She buried her responding groan into the pillow and Matty tutted, grinning lazily up at the ceiling before he rolled on over to look at her.

“Nah, you’re doing it all wrong. It was more like-” And his mimicking whimpers were quickly cut short by the press of her hand against his mouth. Matty widened his eyes in exaggeration over the top of her thumb and mumbled something into her palm.

“Shut up.” Was all that she said to him before she was pulling away again.

Matty rolled his eyes once more. “Rude.” He huffed, forcing his weight onto the bend of his elbow so that he could properly look down at her, “You know, a thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

She swatted him for that one before dissolving into a fit of giggles, tugging him in by the scruff of his neck to kiss him again. He wondered briefly if she could taste herself on his tongue and the thought forced a grunt to wind its way up out of his throat. 

She pulled back at that, but gave him one last peck before the pair of them then settled on their sides to share a pillow. 

Her thumb reached out to brush the edge of his mouth once they’d eased into a peaceful quiet. Matty kissed it, content to just lie there with her for as long as she’d let him.

A car rumbled outside her bedroom window not long later and then it was her whisper that broke the calm. “What time is it?” 

Matty wasn’t even sure. Just that the sun had been creeping its way slowly up into the sky when he’d first woken. He rolled over awkwardly to make a grab for the phone he’d left to charge on the side earlier, “Almost eight.” He told her. 

Squeaks blinked in surprise, eyebrows rising, “Teds should be up by now.”

Matty shrugged and pulled her close again, draping an arm over her waist and pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “Had a long day yesterday, can’t blame the kid for having a lie in.”

She snorted, “You’re the one who kept him up late.”

“He was learning!” Matty immediately defended, though he was grinning too. “And besides, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

He felt her shake her head beneath his chin, and could even picture the way she was most definitely rolling her eyes at him. “You tend to get away with everything, don’t you?”

Smirking, Matty couldn’t deny that. “Just the little things.” Was all that he replied with and she laughed into the column of his throat.

“Hm, don’t get used to it with me.” She hummed and he hoped that she was smiling still. “I won’t make things easy for you, let that be known.”

“Oh don’t I know it.” Matty teased, enjoying the way she’d wrapped her legs around his own, “Jaw fucking aches with how hard you made me work for it.”

She gasped and he barked out a loud laugh when she pinched his side, “Prick.”

Matty merely hummed, breathing in the scent of her and letting himself get swept up in the easy reality of it all. 

But then, “WAKE!”

They both seemed to freeze at the sudden interruption and Mouse was quick to pull away from out of his hold to make a grab for the tee he’d chucked onto the floor.

“Not that.” 

She grimaced at the sight of it in her hand and then shot him a begrudging look before kicking it towards a basket full of washing, pulling a larger shirt from the dresser and throwing it on.

Matty laid there on the bed, entranced by the way it fell so effortlessly off of her shoulder, exposing the scars she had there but also the marks he’d given her too. He grinned lazily and she narrowed her eyes at him when she caught it.

“What you smiling about?”

Lifting his arms up to cushion the back of his head, Matty shrugged, “No reason, baby.”

Her squint deepened, not buying a word of it, but before she could question him again, the bedroom door shot open to reveal a pouty toddler standing in a pair of pj bottoms and his superman cape. Matty raised a questioning brow.

“Save any lives yet today, Teds?”

Still grumpy with sleep, Teddy stomped his way further into the room whilst rubbing at his eyes. Matty was amused by the sight, but also the kid’s hair, which looked just as wild and untamed as his typically did.

“No. Sleepin’.” The boy grumbled to him before he seemed to realise that it was Matty he’d been talking to and his face brightened into something a little more sweeter. “Matty.” He acknowledged with a silly smile, eyes still puffy and blinking back the drowsiness he’d been suffering from.

“Teddy.” Matty mimicked, sitting up on the bed to poke his tongue out at the boy, who merely giggled in reply. “What cartoon’s on today then, mate?”

Teddy paused and it was like a light had switched itself on inside his head because one second he was staring back at Matty and the next he was barrelling his way down the hallway towards the tele set.

“Don’t drop the remote again, Teds!” Squeaks called out just before her son could disappear around the corner, she shook her head after and then turned towards Matty, “Every time it’s him that drops it, and every time it’s me that has to spend a good half hour down on my knees searching for the batteries that fucking escape.”

Matty smiled at the thought of her on her knees, and she must’ve sensed it too because she lobbed a thick hoodie his way, as well as a pair of joggers that looked to be his. He frowned down at the items and wondered when he’d left them here.

“They’re from that night I spent at yours, when I thought we’d-” She coughed then, an excuse to not finish that sentence, but Matty already knew what she’d been on about. Mind flashing back to that night he’d practically confessed all to her, and the next morning when she’d woken up in his bed and had a full blown panic attack. 

“Thanks.” He said, skipping over it all because it was in the past now and he didn’t want her stressing over shit they couldn’t well change, “Can I bum the first shower?”

She hummed, already moving around the room to tidy up a bit, “Yeah, I’ll get in after. Don’t wanna leave Teds on his own for too long.”

“I’ll be quick,” Matty assured her, already jumping up out of the bed to stumble his way on over to the door, “And don’t bother with breakfast, alright? I’ll make it.” 

A look of surprise passed over her face at the offer but Matty didn’t comment on it, having learnt long ago that him doing the most mundane tasks for her only continued to shock her.

“Five minutes!” He called out over his shoulder before he shut the bathroom door behind him. He stepped into the shower with a smile on his face when he heard her shout back a teasing taunt about timing him.

He figured that he could grow used to mornings like these.

…

It wasn’t long later when Matty shuffled his way out of the bathroom and further into the flat, ruffling his hair dry with a towel after having pulled on the clothes Mouse had thrown at him.

Having started down the hallway, he could hear the noise of the tele playing another episode of that show Teddy favoured and the kid’s faint chuckles whenever the characters said something mildly funny. He entered the front room to find the tyke settled on the floor before it, swaddled in a couple of blankets and still half dressed.

“Comfy, little man?” Matty questioned him with a smile, draping the towel he’d used over his shoulders when he’d come to pause by him.

Teddy peered up at him with an almost adoring expression, something Matty was still struggling to get used to. Because see it was one thing to have fans crying out to make a grab for his hand on stage, or asking for a photo in the street, he could deal with all that, had gotten used to it in fact, but this was something else. This was a tiny little bean of a person, so full of innocence and purity, looking up at him as though he was something to be admired, something special.

“Bluey ‘tending to be a bat, Matty.” Teddy grinned, pointing up at the screen towards where it looked like a cartoon dog was hanging out of a tree, “Up down.” 

Matty tilted his head at the picture and snorted, before he crouched down to run a hand through the kid’s unruly hair. “Upside down, hey?” He corrected with a smile, “Looks fun.”

Teddy nodded, eyes now trained back on the tv screen. “Wanna be bat.” He mumbled, unconsciously leaning further into Matty’s hand.

Matty chuckled to himself before he was hit with a thought, “Wanna be a bat, do you?” He smirked, hand already moving to wrap itself around Teddy’s tummy, “Alright then, Superman, get ready!”

With a squeal from Teddy, Matty swiftly jumped up and flipped the kid up into his arms, letting him dangle upside down. “Matty!”

Grinning, Matty jostled him about a bit, enough so that Teddy’s giggles started to echo around the room. “Yeah, Teddy?” He answered the boy, peering down at him from over the tops of his feet, “Did you want something?”

Teddy laughed again, harder, and then shook his head, positively delighted by the whole charade. “Down, Matty!”

“Down? What do you mean down? You said you wanted to be a bat!” Matty’s feigning of being completely unaware only made Teddy laugh louder.

“Down, Matty!” Teddy managed to giggle out again, wriggling in his hold now, enough so that Matty reckoned he ought to.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled and pulled the little monster back up into his arms, sitting him the right way up, “Good?”

Teddy’s hair was a frizzy mess and his cheeks were all flushed, but he looked giddy with joy, grinning almost madly at Matty to the point where the corners of his mouth almost succeeded in their attempt at reaching his eyes.

“Good! ‘gain!”

Matty snorted, but dropped the kid back down again. This little passtime of theirs seemed to go on for a while before Mouse wandered out to see what all the fuss was about.

Both Matty and Teddy appeared to freeze upon noticing her standing in the doorway, a single brow quirked. “What’s going on in here then?” She laughed and Matty noticed the way her eyes darted between the two of them, “Hm?”

“Bats, mama!”

Her bewildered gaze wandered to Matty after hearing Teddy’s reply and so Matty pulled the kid up into his arms again so that he could settle him back on his mound of blankets. 

Matty jerked his chin towards the tele, “Blame the dog.”

Squeaks merely rolled her eyes, albeit fondly, before her attention was redirected towards the phone she held. Matty noted her slight frown.

“What’s up?” He asked her quietly once Teddy had grown enraptured by the kids show again. 

She sighed softly to herself but looked up at him as she did, pursuing her lips before she answered, “Just this work thing. Adi messaged me.”

Matty hummed and started to trail his way into the kitchen, recalling his earlier promise of breakfast. He could manage breakfast. “Right, anything bad?”

Squeaks shook her head, having followed, but was already staring back down at her phone again. “Apparently we somehow managed to score an hour with this one guest. Fucking notoriously hard to pin down and rarely ever available to work without it being in a moments notice, but their PR team just emailed us with an offer.”

Matty knew shit about the inner workings of a radio show, only that a guest like that could probably work wonders and bring in a whole new audience for them. “And this is a bad thing?”

She threw her head back and groaned unhappily, “Yes! It’s a bad thing, Matty! Because the only moments notice they’ve given us is a fucking hour! Apparently they’re only in London for the afternoon.”

Oh.

Things seemed to click for him then, “So you’ve got to get ready and be down at the studio as soon as?”

Another sigh and she nodded, Matty watched on as she dragged a tired hand across her face, “Or at least I would be if I had someone to watch Teddy. But Finn is on a flight back home, mum is too far away, and I can’t just turn up with Teddy to something like this- I’ll have to cancel.” And with that tangent she’s already skimming her thumbs across the screen of her phone.

Matty chewed on the inside of his lip, weighing out the pro’s and con’s, and what her reaction might just be to what he wanted to say, but then he thought fuck it. “I mean, I could watch him.”

Mouse’s head snapped up at that and Matty tried not to think too much about the weight of her gaze. “What?”

He shrugged, moving away from the counter to pick up a pan, “I could watch him, if you want.” He repeated, pausing to look her in the eye. 

Look, he wasn’t stupid, he knew this was a fucking big deal. Yeah, sure, he’d spent a lot of time with Teddy, but never the two of them alone. Him offering, was his way of helping her out, yes- but also? It was her entrusting her son to him. And that in itself was a big BIG fucking ask. “I’ve only got studio time today and that’s later, but if your thing goes on long enough then I’ll be alright to cancel.”

She was watching him like a hawk now, expression half bewildered- like she’d not even thought of this scenario playing out- and half apprehensive. He supposed he could understand. 

“Really?” She asked him and Matty noted how surprised her voice sounded, almost as though she couldn’t believe he’d offered. But he didn’t want to linger too much on that, he knew he had fucked up in the past and heard that same tone time and time before, but never with her.

Matty dipped his chin in silent acknowledgment, “Yeah, you’ll probably only be gone a couple hours, right?”

“Right.”

He swallowed, picking up the carton of eggs she kept in the cupboard and moving shit about to make it seem as though he wasn’t stressing about it either. “And me and Teds would just be here, I’ll make him food while you go get dressed, then maybe we’ll take a walk down to the park or the shops. Be back before you are,” He shrugged again, licking at his bottom lip before he continued on in his ramble, “Could even order a takeaway when you get in- A chinese or an indian, or something.”

When he chanced a glance back up, Matty found Mouse staring at him, her phone still clutched in the palm of her hand. He almost thought then that she’d turn him down, wave the offer off and cancel on the show’s guest, claiming it was too soon, that she was grateful but couldn’t make that jump just yet.

But then, “A takeaway sounds good.”

Matty startled and the spoon he’d been holding slipped out of his hand as he turned to better face her. “Yeah?” He asked, but they both knew this wasn’t about a takeaway.

He saw her throat bob around a swallow, before she took a breath and gave him a slow smile, “Yeah.” She answered softly, and Matty fucking beamed.

“Yeah?” He said again, eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he stepped his way on over the tiles to wrap his hands around her waist.

She laughed at the face he made, but he was excited. Could practically feel his heart hammering away in his chest. “Yeah, Matty.” Mouse murmured into the space between them, smiling up at him now, “If you’re sure.”

Matty laughed too and squeezed her hips, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

And as scary as it all seemed, he found that he was.

“I’m sure.”

–

Saying you could watch a kid, and then actually watching a kid, were two very different things as Matty quickly found out.

Teddy was rambunctious most of the time his mum was around, but once she’d given him a kiss, said her goodbyes and headed out the door, all that increased by tenfold.

“Teds, mate. Look, I love the cape, I do. But if you wanna go out you’re gonna have to put on a shirt.”

He was met with a stoney face and an evidently displeased pout. And that would’ve been fucking hilarious in itself, especially with the way the kid now had his arms crossed over his chest and chocolate from an earlier biscuit smeared across his chin, but that was only if Matty wasn’t the one standing on the other end of it.

“Please?”

See he wasn’t prone to begging for much of anything in life, he just wasn’t built that way, rebel and all that shite. But for Teddy? Matty reckoned he’d do an awful lot.

He crouched down to level the kid with his best melting look, one which had once gotten him through tsa with a couple ounces of coke in his back pocket, and simply prayed for the best.

At last, Teddy seemed to crumble! Or at least, almost. Because Matty did eventually manage to wrangle him into a decent outfit- only, the cape stayed.

Matty found that he could breathe a little easier once they’d made it out the front door, walking hand in hand with Teddy whilst the little monster splashed about in the slowly drying puddles yesterday’s rain had left. 

He’d thrown on his beanie, the one both Mouse, and now Teddy too, seemed to poke fun at him for, as well as a thick scarf to keep the biting chill at bay and cover up some of his face.

“Where’re we headed then?” Matty voiced once they’d walked a few streets with Teddy pointing out all the birds that he could see. “Park, or the shops?”

“Lego!”

Matty peered down at Teddy’s big grin and pleading eyes, guessing that the lad was after one of the few toy shops in town. He could do that, he supposed, and smiled down at Teddy to tell him so.

They ended up stumbling across an Argos further up the main road, the windows lined with ads of all sorts but Teddy spotted one showcasing all their Lego. And so they wandered in, Matty trying to recall the last time he’d ever been in an Argos whilst Teddy scrolled through the selection on one of their many reserve machines.

“Do they have Lego for everything?” He found himself asking the kid, who was propped up on his hip to better view the screen. Because it seemed it; flowers, cars, fucking aeroplanes- they even had a red telephone box that Matty couldn’t imagine any kid choosing.

Teddy managed to spot a set made up of parts for a Passenger Train that cost almost an arm and a leg, but Matty added it to his basket all the same, as well as the Pac-Man mini arcade they sold, which had been staring at him the entire time. 

What? It looked sick and he figured that he’d need something to do whilst Teddy messed about with his train.

So they paid and the bloke at the collection point seemed to sort of recognise Matty, going off of the faces he was making, but the guy only gave him a strained sort of smile and then a nod when he’d called out their number. 

He and Teddy were slow to set off again, Matty trying to wrangle the boxes of Lego he was now carrying whilst also keeping hold of the kid in his care, questioning when the hell Lego sets had gotten so fucking big. Didn’t they all used to come in plastic boxes or some shit?

He managed it anyway and they wandered about window shopping before Teddy finally spotted an ice cream shop up ahead. 

Matty was honest to God thankful for it, the bags were growing heavier as Teddy dragged him every which way and the chance to finally sit down gave him an opportunity to shoot off another text to Mouse. Although she hadn’t replied to his last, he knew that was mostly down to her being on air.

“Still can’t believe you got bubblegum.” Matty admonished once they’d sat down at a table, he wrinkled his nose at the blue monstrosity the kid seemed to be enjoying. 

“I like it!” Teddy giggled in kind, even though he was eyeing up the scoop of cookie dough Matty had picked for himself.

With a humoured smile, Matty gestured for him to pass over his spoon, one of those tiny little plastic ones that came in an assortment of five colours. Teddy eyed him suspiciously but did hand it over, resting his chin on the tops of the forearms he had crossed over the table.

Matty handed it back after taking a large chunk out of his cup and got to watch the way Teddy’s face brightened at the taste. “Like it?” He asked after the boy had licked the spoon clean and then chuckled when he got a hasty nod in reply. “Guess we can share then.”

Teddy seemed to like the idea, even more so once he’d given Matty a spoonful of his own and watched the way his face had screwed up at the horrific flavour.

“Grim.” Matty said around a cough, wanting to rid himself of the taste.

“G’im.” Teddy butchered the mimic, which only made Matty choke on his cough before spluttering into laughter.

“Yeah, mate. Exactly.”

They spent the next half an hour there, Teddy talking to Matty about the train set he’d gotten and then about how he really wanted to drive one when he was older. Which led them to, “What you do, Matty?”

Matty slumped further into his seat at the question and smiled over at the boy, “I’m in a band.”

Adorably, Teddy’s face scrunched up into a confused sort of frown at that, though it was made even sweeter by the array of ice cream he had littering the outside of his gob.

With a faint chuckle, Matty pulled out his phone and went onto YouTube, clicking the first video that popped up after typing in their name. He slid it across the table for Teddy to look at and got to see the way the kid’s eyes widened when he spotted Matty come up on the screen. 

Sure, his hair had been bleached to shit and he looked a hell of a lot younger, but it was still him. And Teds could see that.

“You.” Teddy breathed out, blinking down at the phone as TOOTIME started to play.

Matty snorted to himself and was merely thankful for the fact that the shop was loud enough to cover up the sound of his music playing. Because the last thing he wanted was to be spotted by a couple of fans asking for pictures when he was out and alone with Teddy.

“Singin’?” 

Matty blinked at the question, having lost himself in his previous thought, but then nodded. “Yeah, and see all those other people?” He mentioned, gesturing to the girl who cropped up next, “They’re like miming, pretending to sing it.” He added after Teddy had given him a puzzled tilt of his head. 

Teddy listened to the rest of the song play out after that, pointing to Matty everytime he was seen, as well as bouncing along. He made the decision to press play on the next music video before Matty could stop him, and he gasped when he recognised it.

Which cleared up that question on whether or not Mouse had actually been lying when she had claimed to like his music. He snorted at the thought. 

Matty let Teddy listen to it, grinning at the way he sang along to the chorus of Girls.

By the time they managed to escape the shop, having finished their ice cream long before, Teds had gotten to play a majority of their songs and was humming something vaguely recognisable to himself whilst they walked up the highstreet back the way they’d come. 

Looking back, Matty could see that he’d been distracted by it all. By the weight of the bags he carried and having to keep a constant hold of Teddy’s hand. Then by the way Teds was jumping along happily and singing up at Matty each chance he got. Too distracted that he didn’t seem to notice the oncomer until it was too late.

“Matty, mate!”

It was a reaction and a half the way his head shot up at the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years, not too far from snapping his neck clean off in fact. 

His eyes darted to the man who had started to stumble his way over to them, the grin on his face clearly hit induced, before Matty’s gaze dropped down towards Teddy, who seemed to step back on instinct and crowd himself behind Matty’s legs.

“Been fucking too long, man! How you been!”

Matty tried not to wince at how brash the bloke was, as well as the way he got too close for comfort so that he could thump him heartily on the shoulder in greeting. 

“Yeah, too long.” He muttered, keeping a strong hold on Teddy’s hand and fighting the urge to look down at him, not wanting to draw any real attention to the boy. “Look, mate, I’m a bit busy-” He said and tried to gesture the hand holding the Argos bags out to show exactly that, but his words were trampled all over.

“What the hell you doin’ in these ends then? Thought you were livin’ up on the Heath.”

Matty gritted his teeth. “Moved a bit ago, man.”

“Ah, no shit! Bet it’s as nice as the old place was though, remember the time I fucked that posh girl in your hot tub.” 

For fucks sake.

“Look, man, I’ve really got to get going.” Matty attempted once more, and was already pivoting on his feet to try and get past the loudmouth twat. It had been too long since he’d last seen Ziggy and he’d have much preferred to have kept it that way. 

“Nah, come on, let’s catch up! I know I skipped out Luke’s funeral and that, but the kid wouldn’t have wanted us lot there at his send off.” Ziggy chuckled, showcasing the chipped front tooth he was widely known for. “Got a couple e’s on me, but you can call up your guy, have a party, yeah?”

In his life, Matty had come close to dying a couple of times. He had fucking overdosed, choked on his own sick, threatened to top himself, and done some incredibly stupid shit that had almost lost him his head. But never had he ever felt a feeling like this. His guts wanted to upend themselves onto the very pavement he stood on, along with all the rest of the blood and the bones his poor excuse for a body was made up of. 

“I’m clean.”

Ziggy laughed loudly at his croaked reply, drawing more attention to the three of them than he already had, and Matty didn’t know whether or not he’d crumble then and there, or if he’d just end up punching the fucker.

“Always been a funny kid, I told ‘em that!”

Matty steeled his jaw and forced down the lump of bile that wanted to escape. “I’m clean.” He repeated, stronger this time around, grinding down on his teeth so hard that it felt like they’d shatter in his mouth.

Ziggy stopped laughing then and kissed his teeth, “Another one down.” He shook his head, in actual disappointment, “And to think you were once sound. Just another one of them rich toffs, aintcha?” He scoffed and Matty had to bite his tongue. “Tryna act hard.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Matty went to walk away then, shuffling Teddy along with him, who was very much clinging to the back of his jeans now. It was that motion which caught Ziggy’s attention. 

“Oh shit! Matt, you’ve got a kid!” His loud and brazen cackle rattled through Matty and forced the rest of the goers littering the street to glance their way. “What, you knock up some bird, is that it? Bet she’s rinsin’ you out of all that money you made, ey rockstar?”

It was thoughtless but Matty went for him then, catching the prick by the edge of his cheap jacket and trying not to gag at the stench that fell off him. “You’ve no fucking clue, alright? So take your loud mouth and your fucking e’s, and do one.”

He gave Ziggy a hard shove, desperate to get him away, and then swallowed thickly at the realisation of what he’d just done. But still, Matty held himself strong, picking up the bag he hadn’t realised he’d dropped whilst keeping his eyes fixed on the man. He recaptured Teddy’s hand all too quickly and started to walk away.

In the time it must’ve taken him to do that though, Ziggy had righted himself and dropped the surprise. Matty heard him spit at their retreating backs, missing, but only just, and then he called out, “Yeah, walk on, Healy! But I know your type. You’ll come back, they always fucking do!”

The sound of his laughter echoed down the street and it followed Matty most of their way home.

His body shook with raw tension, jaw clenched so tightly shut that it hurt when he thought about it. But he couldn’t think about it, not then, not with what had just gone down. Not with what Teddy had- God, what Teddy had seen. 

Mouse would skin him for this. 

That thought alone broke something deep inside of him. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Matty?”

The world seemed to stop at the call of his name.

Matty loosened his tight hold on Teddy’s hand and inhaled before he turned to look at him. 

“I’m sorry.” He heard himself say, wishing it had been more than just a cowardly fucking whisper. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Teddy only smiled up at him, it was careful and wary, but fuck it was genuine. And it made Matty want to cry all the same.

How. How had he fucked up this badly.

“It’s ‘kay, Matty.” Teddy tried to soothe him. 

And at his words, Matty got down on his knees to run a hand through the boy's hair. “It’s not, and I’m sorry.”

Matty shook his head, hating himself more and more.

But he tried to smile. He had to, for Teddy.

“We ‘kay, Matty.” Teddy murmured, reaching up a hand to touch the bone of Matty’s cheek. Matty wondered how strong his resolve truly was when he just about managed to bite back the sob that threatened to choke him. “We ‘kay. Just a bad man.”

“A bad man.” Matty sniffed, pulling Teddy in close to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, mate. Just a bad man.”

“Can’t tell mama.”

Matty froze at that, his mouth ghosting over the boy’s temple.

Slowly, he pulled away, hand falling to the back of Teddy’s head, cradling it carefully. “It’s okay, Teds. Nothing will happen.”

But Teddy shook his head adamantly, “No, can’t tell! Mama worry.”

Oh.

Matty smiled, it was fucking sorrowful and full of self-pity, but he managed it for this sweet boy. “It’ll be okay, Teds. I swear.”

Though he wondered truly if it would.

“Can’t, Matty. Can’t!” Teddy looked like he was about to start sobbing then and there, his bottom lip wobbling whilst his eyes filled with tears, “Don’t tell!”

“But why, Teddy?” 

It was all that Matty could think to ask, to say.

“No upset, for mama, for Matty.”

Christ, Matty had really fucked up this time.

“No tell.” Teddy repeated again, unaware of how his words made Matty’s heart break. “Matty. No tell.”

And then he was sobbing, aimlessly and hopelessly into Matty’s chest. 

Matty held him near, rubbing a hand up and down the boy’s back whilst simultaneously wishing he could take everything back. That he could go back to this morning and never leave the flat. Never make that fucking offer.

He just wasn’t cut out for this.

He wasn’t-

Teddy’s fingers clung to the hoodie he wore with a strength that scared Matty a little, chest heaving with his quiet cries. “Okay, Teddy.” Matty murmured brokenly, trying to lull his crying with a soft and stuttered hush, “It’s okay, Teddy. I won’t tell. It’s okay.”

[paingoes]

Destroyer Bonus - Glow

something lighter after the last update 

@pumpkin-spice-whump sent an ask game about “best memories” w paris and delta and it made me sad because yeah there arent many! but there are a few. heres one of the softer ones. ft. drunk!Delta

(Content: living weapon whumpee, dehumanization, touch starved, implied physical abuse, alcohol, power imbalances, war mention, passing drugs mention)

“What do you mean they surrendered?” Paris’s phone charms clicked together as he paced up and down the hall. “When? Just now?”

Delta listened at the other end of the hall, taking careful notice of the silent pauses that marked it as a phone argument, not a normal argument. The former always disappointed him. He liked hearing both sides so he could figure out who to root for.

“Well what the fuck did I come here for then?” Paris’s voice was more whiny than angry this time. “We already unpacked!”

Most of the ship’s cargo had been emptied to set up a new base camp, most of the soldiers already occupied with its assembly. The relative vacancy of the ship made all sound echo within it.

He heard Paris curse, the call ending abruptly, and the footsteps approaching. Delta peeked out of the alcove he’d been hiding out in.

“Not on?” He mouthed.

Paris jumped back in surprise, but recovered quickly. He rolled his eyes.

“No, we’re not on,” he said. “I didn’t call you, did I?” 

Paris shooed him away, even though he’d been there first. He was barely looking at him, all his attention still absorbed in the broken screen.

“Go to your room.”

He went to his room.

~

That was fine. He was never unhappy about cancellations. Even before his little moral doubts had started nagging at him, the work was hard on his body, even harder on his brain. He didn’t mind going back to his room. It meant he wouldn’t have to do anything today — and he was always so grateful for any rest.

He stared at the book he’d been reading until the room had grown so dark he could not see the pages. When he finally came to, it was pitch black outside the windows. He didn’t know how much time had passed. There came a knocking from out in the hallway.

The only light that came through to him was a thin line of orange beneath the door. Shadows crossed over it. He heard giggling, faintly. He didn’t bother to turn the lamp on before he opened it.

Sierra stood in the doorway, one hand flying to her mouth coyly as if to conceal her smile. She was flanked by her other handmaidens. Without the standard coifs and corsets, they were almost unrecognizable. They were dressed all in white, though the fabric of the gowns was frayed and torn at the edges. Their hair was undone in loose, messy curls.

“Hi Delta,” Sierra waved, then covered her mouth again in faux shyness. “We’re having a party, cause like, there’s nothing else to do here. We were wondering if you wanted to come out?”

He blinked, his head still foggy as he was emerging from the fantasy novel. He stared back at her tiredly and did not even consider the offer.

“I’m not allowed to leave the ship,” he said.

Sierra shook her head, smiling wider.

“Already asked. His Majesty said it’s alright.”

She slipped on the title, or she was being mean. Delta wasn’t convinced either way.

“He wouldn’t say that.”

She held up a small slip of paper.

𝒮𝒾𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈.

                                       𝒫𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓈 ♡

~

He went to tell Simon he was leaving, just to cover all his bases, but found his office empty. It was a total ghost ship. The girls hadn’t been lying. It seemed like everyone onboard had gone out to the encampment. 

There seemed no better use for it, if they weren’t going to be fighting, if they weren’t leaving until tomorrow. 

He followed them down the ramp, dressed more casually than he usually did for any “party” occasion, but still done up in the way they had liked. He didn’t argue.

He began to regret the easiness with which he had followed them as they walked past the groups of soldiers. He did not actually want to be near any of them if they were getting loaded, or even if they weren’t. They were too rough, too entitled. They thought he had to answer to them — and though he didn’t, he did not have the boldness to correct them. Not that they would’ve listened anyway.

But Sierra did not stop at the main camp, though some of the girls did peel off to see all the commotion. She led Delta and the others out on the knoll. 

There was a crop of trees surrounding a stone pit. He watched her struggle to start a fire there before finally offering to do it himself, igniting the wood with electricity until it caught flame. He blushed at the cheers he got for that. It was nothing.

They had only taken him out as a toy. He had no misconceptions about that. He sat down in the spot where they’d indicated, keeping his posture straight so as not to throw off their machinations.

They talked amongst themselves while they worked. He caught the edges of their conversations, found none of it especially relevant but entertaining enough. It was more entertaining the more drinks they slipped into his hand. The girls seemed to get the same rebellious thrill out of his drunkenness that he got out of being drunk. Martino would’ve killed him if he knew. He drank in spite of, or maybe because of this.

He liked the way the night air felt against his skin. He was grateful to have experienced it before they made the return trip. As large as the ship was, it could easily become claustrophobic after enough time spent in deep space. It made him crazy, sometimes.

He flinched at the abruptness of the contact, then gradually relaxed underneath it. He was so unused to gentle touch. As the maid’s hand moved through his hair and down along his neck, he had to stop himself from leaning into it. It was hard for him to recognize anything as want, but in this, he came close. The touch was fleeting. It never lasted long.

They braided flowers into his hair, stopping every few minutes to check their progress. 

He hadn’t realized Sierra had left until she reappeared. In the dark, their silhouettes all looked the same. She came back over the promenade. Paris tread casually beside her.

Delta tensed a bit, fearing Sierra’s permit had not actually been all-inclusive, that he was not actually supposed to be outside. But Paris didn’t look very shocked to see him. He tousled his hair absently as he passed behind him, made no other acknowledgment.

As usual, he followed Paris’s voice before any other sound. He couldn’t keep himself from listening in on their conversation, even if he wanted to. 

“-not like it’s real. You’d know if it was.”

“It isn’t, though. I’ve always known it’s not real, that doesn’t make it any-“

“My brother used to get those. They gave him Ativan for it.”

“I tried that already.”

Another flower was braided into Delta’s hair. All the stars were out. The music carried over from the main camp, not deafening the way it must have been at its source, but pleasantly muted by the distance. 

~

Paris held the bottle in his periphery, shaking it gently, like a lure. Delta took it. The prince’s attention immediately left him, did not wait to see his reaction. An offer, then, not an order. Delta drank it anyway.

It was only when Paris sat down by the other side of the fire that Delta noticed the laurel wreath woven into his hair. He’d never seen it before, did not know where he had found it. 

“Hi,” Delta said, already very drunk.

“Hey,” Paris shrugged, more sober than he normally was this time of night. 

Sierra was laying down on the other side of them, playing on her phone. There was no way she had a signal out here. She was feeding a virtual cat with blue pellets, watching the status bar go up.

“Do you remember when the Emperor first got you?” 

He said the Emperor, instead of my father. Delta tried to remember if he’d ever said the word dad. At most, he would call him the old man, but it was stark and without any playfulness. It was accurate. The Emperor had been old, even when the two of them were just children. Too old not to have a succession plan.

Before Delta could respond, one of the maids snapped her fingers by his face. He turned around.

“Stay like that,” she said before blinding him with the camera’s flash. He stayed like that, holding still as she took a few more. The only experience he’d had with cameras was in clinical settings. He held the same indifferent expression he’d been coached to wear, which to be fair, was not very different from how he normally looked.

“Delete those,” Paris said without much passion. It was against protocol, but it was clear he didn’t really care either way. He turned his attention back to Delta. “That trick with the dragon. Can you still do it?”

He couldn’t believe he even remembered that. Delta had found it insanely gaudy at the time, even more so as his tastes had developed. He realized, a bit sadly, that the purchase anniversary was coming up. He wondered if they’d send a card. 

“No.” Delta shook his head. It’d been a party trick, never repeated. “I couldn’t do it in the dark, anyway.”

At that same instant, the fireworks went off in the distance. Paris flinched, moving both hands protectively to the back of his skull like he anticipated an attack from behind. When none came, and there was only red and purple across the sky, his expression changed from embarrassment to annoyance and then eventually relief. The fireworks weren’t from their camp. They’d come from across the river. Not his responsibility.

Nobody else seemed to see him flinch, so Delta pretended not to either. His attention drifted back to the fireworks alone. 

They were impressive for what they were. Nothing compared to the sheer shock and awe of the campaigns that could have just as easily lit up the sky that night. He could have spent all night trying to stop the bleeding from his mouth, the numb static in his hands. He was glad they’d surrendered. He knew that this was how he was meant to be used, what the Emperor had intended. The threat of destruction was almost more powerful than the carnage itself. He wished it could play out this way more often, without anyone actually having to die.

The case clanked noisily to the ground. Sierra knelt over top of it with her hands on her hips, before giddily prying off the lid.

The interior was bright with all the different paints held inside of it. They were some algae derivative, bioluminescent, glow-in-the-dark.

Sierra licked the tip of her paint brush. Her other hand moved to take Paris’s. He offered it without resistance, about as used to being handled by her as Delta was. Well, not quite as much.

In thin lines, she traced shapes over the back of his hand and along his wrists. She scooted closer to him to drag the brush along his cheekbone.

Delta hadn’t realized until then just how much the two of them resembled each other. Pale skin, light gold hair. But she looked more alive than he did. Paris took the brush from her.

As he watched Paris paint the dahlia in careful strokes along her cheek, Delta was overcome with the sense that none of them belonged here. 

It passed quickly, the way it always did. It had to.

He startled a bit as Paris caught him looking. He couldn’t exactly hide his staring in the dark, both his eyes shining like headlights. He hadn’t meant to stare.

Paris quirked one eyebrow at him. He uncurled his hand, waiting a second. When he was met with no resistance, he finished the gesture, curling the fingers back inward. Here.

Delta arranged himself carefully in front of him, offering his wrist. Paris took it, readjusting his arm to have a better angle at the canvas. Like before, he was almost overwhelmed by the touch, so unused to any softness that he thought he might’ve just lost sensation.

The paint was more cool than he’d been expecting, like river clay. Pale green. Paris made the first marks with his fingers. They were loose ferns and vines. Soon after he switched back to the brush. It moved in smooth, tickling arcs. The old lines were cleaned up. New ones were drawn on more precisely.

Sierra had marked Paris in the traditional style, mostly roses and spirals along his veins. He’d done hers in the same way. The marks Paris left on Delta’s skin were different. He did not understand why they looked so familiar. After a few drunken seconds, he recognized them. He’d seen them scrawled out along the columns of the Imperial churches. They were bind runes. Protective sigils.

He flinched as his chin was tilted back up. 

“Not gonna hurt you,” Paris said.

He was embarrassed that his flinch reflex had gotten so overactive, though frankly it was Paris’s fault. He didn’t sound annoyed though, or even particularly surprised. He had to have known it just as well.

Delta closed his eyes. The brush tip was slick against his face and not altogether unpleasant. Oddly gentle.

After a few strokes, Paris clicked his tongue in disappointment, “You’re already glowing.”

It was true. The glow wouldn’t stand out on him the way it would on the others. If anything, the paint might’ve blotted out the light from his freckles. But the color would show. He still wanted it.

Paris painted a few more lines beneath his eyes. His eyebrows were knit in concentration; he was taking this more seriously than he needed to. Even without seeing them, Delta could feel just how tight and tidy the lines were. It was a collection of five point stars.

While they’d been working, the other maids had done themselves up just the same, their practiced hands moving much quicker. The patterns they had drawn along their arms seemed to come to life as they moved amongst the flickering shadows.

Delta settled back against the tree. He finished out the last of the bottle. His skin felt strange and newly exposed, like the brush had cut him open. It’d still felt nice at the time.

He was drifting off. Everything was fading out into a pleasant haze. All he could focus on were the golden embers and the way they drifted upwards into the black sky.

“You kept him up past his bedtime,” he heard Paris chiding. It sounded like it was coming from very far away. Sierra giggled a bit in response, not unkindly.

“Can I…?” His own voice faded out. He asked out of politeness, but he did not feel it was something he had much control over anymore.

“You’re good.”

Delta fell asleep right there on the grass, wrapped up in the strange glow of night.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @dietofwormsofficial @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter

[sl33pyfr0gt33th]

Extremely long ramble on how the racers in turbo time’s code work since I’ve been slowly losing trying to figure out how to actually code it

So let’s focus on the two starting racers, the Turbotwins

Let:

Starting with their code first, let’s code is relatively simple and easy to dodge on its own, the code is nicknamed "bubbly" because their designed to bounce around on the track in kind of a flower like pattern, it’ll randomly generate a number to pick how far to go out every now and then, so depending on the number can either be them just going in a very small zigzag or bouncing back and fourth from the corners like the dvd logo, the only time this behavior would outright be stable and not completely random is when it changes to their "pass by" code, the "pass by" code is a code that only activates when nearby turbo for let it’s where they’ll try to ride the inner ring of the track to get past turbo if unable to they’ll just try to go around him this continues until turbo is out of reach to which they’ll go back to their regular code

Jet:

Jets code is nicknamed "sturdy" because unlike their sibling they focus mainly on staying on the center of the track not out right attempting to pass turbo, they were supposed to have a "pass by" code but it got scrapped it before releasing the game since the creators felt like it made things too difficult since jet’s a "beginner" type character, however on the more glitched out levels (following pac-man logic here once you get to a certain amount of levels the game starts breaking) the scrapped code does resurface, jets pass by is suddenly and very sharply speeding up for 2 seconds and turning when at the corner of the track which is usually where turbo would end up since riding the center got you to first place quicker, this code can be deadly if any of the other racers happens to accidentally block turbo in place so he can’t slow down, speed up or turn some other way to dodge jet (another reason it was scrapped)

Moving onto destruction/disruption duo-

Fuse: (originally named strike)

This guy is apart of the "hard mode" which is unlocked after completing five levels (or by putting in a secret developer code with the wheel), essentially Jets scrapped code actually got updated and reused for this fella in a way that wasn’t outright lethal, I’ve been trying to think of a name for his code and all I’ve gotten is just "bumper cars" or "impulsive"

in short fuse can ram into cars but instead of the car crashing, the car will get pushed in a random direction depending on where the sprites collided if it’s dead center it could function as a nice speed boost if played right! Their over all pattern is determined by the position of others and the number of laps on lap 1 they’ll stay towards the center but the moment anyone is next to them they’ll immediately try to ram into them to try to knock them into the grass usually by default this will end up being jet since they tend to stay in the center, second lap they’ll develop a jitter causing their car to go back and fourth as they move if they run into someone like this it will spring them forwards, usually though this will result in them just getting flung out into the grass, last lap aka lap 3 they just go towards the nearest car and tries to push them out of bounds

Vix:

Vix’s code it really quite interesting, its nick name is "foxtrot" they’ll linger behind the rest of the cars, stalking the crowd before speeding up towards the nearest car to force them to change methods in order not to crash, this causes changes in how the character behaves, likely this would be decided by a value that counts up depending on how many times Vix has caused them to change methods that’ll decrease when it hasn’t happened in a while for example after being "tricked"

Let’s bounce rate would decrease whenever Vix is nearby they may even slow down a bit

turbo would be forced to the edge where the grass is, while the wheel the play uses to steer would slightly lock in place making turns harder, later on it would possibly beginning to try to turn itself in order to assist the player when turbo gets more comfortable in his game (because he’d be damned if whoever’s playing doesn’t have a good time or win on his watch)

fuse would likely speed up when ever Vix is nearby to try to out pace them,

And jet surprising would start to move between lanes either going up or down one instead of staying dead center

As for the main character himself

(This one’s just ever so slightly more so about how his code influenced his personality since his main code would be controlled by the player!)

Turbo:

He’s a interesting one all together, Turbo was programmed with minimal traits to his name, sure there was hints to his personality in the machine manuals, box art, and in where ever the game would reached like magazines and such but none of that was really coded in because there was no need to, so most of his code is decided all by the ones playing and a few cutscenes which implies that he’s a little unstable due to anger issues (the losing cutscene in working on) and has a rather big ego (the winning cutscene), but turbo does have some code outside of player input, to put it simply he was coded to make things fun for players, to make them happy with the game to hopefully bring in more attention, his whole world revolves around them because that’s all he’s got in his code, while the others have other things to turn to by the end of their days, their family, their team or even some hobbies, turbo doesn’t have all of that, he just has his partner in crime, the players…and hey, a partner never leaves the other behind right?

Besides no matter how it has to happen, he’ll find a way to maintain his audience, regardless of how dangerous it is to him.

After all, you’ve gotta stick to the programming, right?

[inevitably-johnlocked]

VALENTINE'S DAY FICS (Updated Feb 2024)

Well, I never got an ask for an updated list and I WAS going to reblog my own V-Day Fic list from a few years ago, but it's pitifully small compared to all the other lists I have come across. Instead, I decided to update it with all the fics I have on my MFL list as well, so I hope you guys enjoy this brand new list for Fic Rec Wednesday! Please add your own V-Day fics if you have them! Enjoy!!

See also these Other Peoples' Lists:

Valentine’s Day (Alexx)

Clean Valentine’s List (Alexx)

Mystrade Valentine’s (Various)

Cupidford’s Valentine’s Fics

Valentine’s Day + Update 2022 (SwissMiss)

Be my Valentine - Johnlock Collection (AO3 Collection List)

Atrium by kali_asleep (T, 3,460 w., 1 Ch. || 5 and One, Valentine’s Day, Fluff & Schmoop, First Kiss) – Five times Sherlock gave John his heart, and the one time Sherlock got a heart in return (literally).

Lingerie by Sexxica (E, 4,135 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Lingerie / Women’s Underwear, Mildly Public Masturbation, Picture Texting / Sexting, Bottomlock, Body Worship, Anal Sex / Fingering, Rimming, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Est. Rel.) – It's Valentines Day and Sherlock is taking John to Angelo's for dinner. Sherlock also happens to be wearing a garter belt, stockings and a rather small pair of women's underwear under his clothes. There's no dessert at Angelo's because John needs to get Sherlock home just as quickly as he can before they both lose their minds entirely.

How To Give Your Boyfriend Who Doesn't Know He's Your Boyfriend the Best Valentine's Day Ever by unicornpoe (T, 9,832 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Crack, Soft Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is his boyfriend. He's also pretty sure that John doesn't know it. But with a little help from a magazine, some friends, three crepes, five dates, one awesome CD, and a stalker van, John is bound to realize just in time for Valentine's Day.

MARKED FOR LATER

Hope is sweet by Lock_John_Silver (T, 2,977 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Valentine’s Day, Developing Relationship, Pet Names, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Classical Music, Idiots in Love, Endearments, POV Sherlock) - Sherlock wants to be more than John’s best friend. Has wanted it for ages, truth be told. So, when Molly comes up with an idea, that to some extent involves three year old Rosie, Sherlock doesn’t hesitate.

Worth Its Weight by philalethia (E, 2,986 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || PWP, Daddy Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Service Domination, Gift Giving, Unsafe Sex, Sex Toys) – “Remember,” John said, “when we talked about you not buying me extravagant things?” Basically: a little bit of Valentine's Day daddy kink. Part 2 of All the Rest 'Verse

The Importance of February 14th by cypress_tree (T, 3,156 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Humour, Valentine’s Day) – Sherlock was born on Valentine's Day. John doesn't know this and invites him out on a date. Sherlock assumes it's a birthday celebration and believes so right up until the moment John kisses him.

Dinner and a Murder by vintagelilacs (T, 4,210 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Valentine’s Day, Online Dating, Mutual Pining, Confessions, Getting Together, POV John, Oblivious John) – Reluctant to spend Valentine’s Day alone, John joins a dating app only to realize he’s already living with the closest thing to a soulmate he’s ever going to get.

The Best Idea by SatanDrankMyCoffee (T, 7,252 w.,  5 Ch. || Valentine's Day, Bubble Bath, Hair Washing, People-Watching, Anxiety, Domestic Fluff/Bliss, Texting) – Gift giving is something Sherlock is usually quite good at but when the parameters change, he becomes unsure of himself. Which gift idea is the best idea? Part 3 of A Year in Occasions

Daddy's Darling by distantstarlight (E, 7,747 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Daddy Kink, Valentine’s Day, Smut, First Time) – Disguises are part of the package when you work as detectives, there was nothing new about that but one day Sherlock goes undercover with his best friend and they discover more than the answer to the crime.

Valentine’s Night Out by CarmillaCarmine (E, 10,120 w., 5 Ch. || ASiB Canon Divergence, Valentine’s Day, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Breath Play, Butt Plugs, Deep Throating, Humour, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Anal Sex) – John and Sherlock have been invited to join their friends at a pub for Valentine's Day. Sherlock has plans to spice the evening up a bit. Part 4 of the The Johnlock Holidays and Celebrations Series

The Heart of the Matter by prettysailorsoldier (T, 13,427 w., 1 Ch. || Teenager AU || Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Texting, Valentine’s Day, Fluff) – It's the annual Valentine's Week fundraiser, carnations, conversation hearts, and singing telegrams (oh my!) making their way around the school corridors, and Sherlock Holmes has quite happily never received any of them. So, when he gets a box of conversation hearts containing a message from a secret admirer, his first instinct is that it's an elaborate practical joke, but, as he and his mystery suitor begin texting, he starts to wonder if there might be something to this Valentine's Day lark after all. There is, however, the entirely unrelated problem of one John Watson to contend with before he can be sure. Part 3 of 221B Mine

Not this year by Imjohnlocked87 (E, 16,293 w., 4 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting ||  Friends to Lovers, Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Smut, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Food Sex, Wall Sex, Angst with Happy Ending) – One month after leaving the rehabilitation centre, when Donovan asks Sherlock if he will be alone on Valentine's Day this year too, he replies he will be spending it with someone special.The only problem is that this someone doesn't exist.Because who would want to have Valentine's date with Sherlock Holmes? 

Quo Fata Vocant by prettysailorsoldier (E, 18,115 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock / Teenlock ||  Librarians, Bisexual John, Flirting, First Time, Tattoos, Valentine’s Day, Secret Admirer, Matchmaker) – Sherlock is enamored with one of the employees at the university library, wiling away hours of his days just to catch a glimpse of the dynamic John Watson: captain of the rugby team, event manager for the LGBT society, and third-year medical student. Of course, being only a first-year, it's unlikely John will ever notice him. At least, until fate (and a little well-intentioned meddling) intervenes.

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 3

David realizes he may have overestimated his ability to handle the newly adopted deity in his head. In trying to figure out how to direct an unlimited supply of body transforming chaos magic, he discovers the power of words, leading to some interesting developments at the bar and in Lee's lab.

1 | 2 (Previous) | 4 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass growth // Dick growth // Growth // Suggestion // nsfw

---

A Tuesday night during Winter Break was not the liveliest time at our usual haunt, the Cockatrice, but Lee and I weren’t complaining. We could gossip and scheme in peace in our back corner booth, a spot we so consistently occupied that the bartender, Jaime, jokes that our butt prints are permanently in the seats–which, in light of recent events, is probably true. As Lee had pointed out to my chagrin, the hemispheres of my ass had successfully carved out a noticeable dip in the cushion that would set a normal man off balance. Yet another reason the back corner booth was consistently ours to occupy. With the semester having ended and most of our colleagues having fled town as soon as grades were submitted, it was especially sparse, except of course, for the new regular to our little booth chats, Blake.

I had given just the essential details to the class about the extra dimensional reality warper that was seemingly auditing for most of the term, winning their silence with automatic As, no term paper, and any reference or letter of rec for any reason. I made myself available as a resident expert if they wanted to learn more about this exciting new research opportunity tied to my being through the astral realm. And of course, if they needed guidance on any unintended side effects, from wardrobe malfunctions to unwanted attention. Noah, for one, had developed a similar level of insatiability as my own and was tearing through every available hung top in the city, but had also developed a knack for coming across progressively bigger and bigger dicks; a pattern that was verging on unrealistic. I made a note to investigate further, but encouraged him to just slow down before we had an epidemic of dicks just as unwieldy as my superhung fuckbuddy sitting across from me.

The rest of the semester was relatively uneventful after I explained the situation. I decided I might as well use it as a teaching tool, one of the more extreme examples of what one might encounter in this line of work. I didn’t name Logan, though, for the risk of him drawing the ire of his colleagues. However, after some initial discomfort and surprising ambivalence, they were mostly okay with the changes, even appreciative, though they may not admit it directly. But golden boy park ranger Blake was especially enthusiastic, not to mention deeply interested in all these magical happenings. To the point where his own disproportionately meaty butt was leaving its own comical imprint in the booth next to my own. 

Blake became a fixture of our weeknight scene, eager for the latest updates from Lee’s lab, which had begun to research the power of my new mental roommate. Trying to understand the unfathomable deity living in my head was slow going, but I had figured out that while they don’t have a name for themself, or really a concept of naming that makes sense to us, they deigned to experiment with some sort of grammar of identification, a small part of which is interpretable in our dimension as Synt. Blake was usually in the field during the day, so would join us after hours to get caught up, even going so far as to jot down notes and ask questions we hadn’t even thought of. He was a de facto research assistant, and at the very least this whole ordeal had gotten someone actually interested in our little corner of the world. Apparently, he’d also been chatting with Logan about some mystical archival work (I really should pay more attention to what Logan actually does). But this evening he was getting excited about his own neck of woods (pun intended) with something brewing in a local forest reserve.

“It’s one of the old ones that got absorbed into the current system when they modernized it,” said Blake, leaning forward slightly with an air of playful conspiracy, his dense biceps straining against the cuffs of his sleeves. “Not entirely public property, but not really owned by anyone anymore either. We basically have de facto jurisdiction,” a phrase he pronounced with uncertainty, “over the Marshlands.”

I wasn’t familiar with this place–admittedly I didn’t get out enough–but I dissociated as a vague image popped up on my mental map of the region, carrying a resonance that felt like a string being plucked. As I sat with this, I was aware that Blake and Lee were carrying on a conversation without me but sound and light went slightly opaque as I tried to focus on this image of…a forest clearing? And some figures that looked suspiciously like–

“Palmer!” I was brought fully back to reality by a forceful slap on the shoulder from our park ranger friend sitting next to me. Blake quickly had an apologetic look on his face that said he hadn’t quite figured out his own strength. 

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Zoned out. What’d I miss? The forest?”

“Nah, we moved on to the BBL allegations,” said Lee, with a smirk.

“I’m just sayin’ my leg days are legendary these days,” said Blake, hands splayed in mock humility. “I don’t blame ‘em for thinking something’s up. You know it’s real because I keep maxing out machines at the gym and having to scrounge up more and more plates. It’s starting to draw attention,” he chuckled.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know about the changes that Synt caused,” I offered, mentally putting on my researcher hat.

“Is still causing,” interjected Lee.

“Yes, still,” I said, suddenly feeling very self conscious. When I invited Synt to give Logan a break and join forces with me, I may have overestimated my ability to keep them reined in, and it was becoming a full time project just to keep their power from leaking out into this world at a reasonable trickle. Most of the time, I could relieve little bits of pressure here and there, resulting in acquaintances and strangers getting a little boost in passing; something to fill their pants a little more that they wouldn’t complain about. This got tricky when it comes to people I was not only intimate with, but vulnerable with. Hence why Lee’s lithe, muscular form not only filled the other side of the booth but looked downright ethereal. And yet another reason Blake enjoyed spending happy hours parked right next to me. He was, after all, enthusiastic about the situation.

“Not that I’m complaining,” said Blake. He leaned towards me slightly with a smile that was verging from friendly to flirtatious. “I look better than I ever have. Better than I thought was even possible, all thanks to our mutual friend.” He gave me (and Synt) a wink, allowing his ripped forearm to brush lightly against mine before pulling back at the static shock that visibly–and possibly audibly–jumped the centimeter between us.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no problem’,” he said, getting up and turning to the bar. “Y’all want anything?”

“I’m already at my limit,” I said, “but thanks.”

“Two-drink Tuesday,” added Lee, holding up his index and middle finger, as if that wasn’t something he had just made up. Nevertheless, I appreciated the support. Getting shlammered is no longer an option when you have immediate access to an unbelievable reservoir of chaos magic. Something Lee was constantly reminded of by the trouser snake bulging down the length of his left pant leg. 

What didn’t help the situation was that Blake was really taking his time in getting to the bar, swishing his hips back and forth as he moseyed over to Jaime. The park ranger uniforms are a flattering, relaxed fit, but Blake was bursting out of his. The khakis were stretched tight across his bubble butt and quads and the button up couldn’t be buttoned all the way against the mass of his pecs and shoulders. He was a wall of dense muscle, body so sculpted from the realm of fantasy that it was almost a crime for him to even try to wear clothes in the first pl–

I knew what he was doing. He, obviously, knew what he was doing. And most importantly, the reality-altering minor god that had tied themself to me knew full well what he was doing.

We can’t keep doing this, I said to my mental roommate. He’s getting hooked.

Hooked? came a voice like tectonic plates sliding against each other.

Like, he’s enjoying these changes too much. He keeps trying to grow more and more, I worry he might go too far.

Too far? It had become clear that they had no conceptualization of what this meant, but they were starting to figure out what one might call moderation. I felt a small nudge of encouragement as if right behind my shoulder blades, but a small nudge from Synt was like a cruise ship lightly tapping against a wooden pier.

Okay, but just a little, I thought. It’s about finesse, just like we practiced.

Synt was a powerhouse to say the least, and I wasn’t so much tapping into their reservoir of chaos magic as I was slightly loosening a small pressure valve. My fingertips sparked lightly as I felt the peculiar taste of raw possibility in my mouth, like a battery on the back of my tongue that crackled down around my vocal chords. I was focusing on Blakes’s broad shoulders and muscular backside at the bar. His overdeveloped glutes defied gravity, perched like two globes above his hamstrings. 

“Those could really do some damage,” I muttered under my breath. I imagined him at the gym, maxing out the machines as a warmup, having to stack weight after weight just to get a good pump. The blood rushing to his strained muscles as they repaired themselves supernaturally fast, swelling against the overstressed fabric until it couldn’t take anymore. At the bar, Blake was adjusting his waistband surreptitiously, his massive butt seeming to grow in real time to match my slapped together tipsy fantasy until finally his work pants began to give way, splitting open in a few spots to hint at a pair of bright green bikini briefs fighting for its life over his round cheeks. Much to his chagrin–but eventually to his delight–whoever he was chatting it up with failed to take notice of his sudden growth. His hand had left Blake’s hip to adjust his own crotch, which was displaying a surprising, and apparently uncomfortable, bulge.

I maybe shouldn't have done this two drinks in. I was going for more juicy pump and less wardrobe malfunction. And I didn’t even predict the spillover effect in this new beau who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe I wasn’t being focused enough, maybe it was some sort of daisy chain from their erotic connection, maybe Blake was figuring out how to re-route the chaos magic with which I had touched him. But as he apparently took notice, he played it off, turning his fat ass to squish against the bar as he faced out, glancing my way with an appreciative wink.

“He can’t keep getting away with this,” said Lee, an amused tone entering his voice. Lee had caught on to Blake’s little trick early on and found it more funny than concerning. “He pulled a fast one on you again!” he laughed.

“He’s kind of doing me a favor,” I reasoned. At least I had a willing participant to let some of the pressure off while honing this new ability. “But he could just ask me directly.”

“Well where’s the fun in that?” asked Lee, his eyes dreamily following Blake’s ass as his new friend let him into the cool winter evening, presumably to explore their respective new assets at one of their places. His eyes flicked back to me as he danced across the word fun, and I tried to evade losing myself in the chocolate brown depths of his irises, captivated by a gaze that had become hypnotic. I didn’t get very far as I began to trace the curvature of his plump lips, the rightmost third of the bottom one lost behind a row of playfully biting teeth.

This was a game we had begun to play and one I would inevitably lose. He knew what he was doing. He knew I knew that he knew what he was doing. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that a side effect of the changes in Lee was that he was beginning to have a draw on people that was hard to resist. It hadn’t taken Lee long to realize that whenever I released Synt’s erotic power into the world, I needed to in turn release my own. Hot and bothered would be an understatement, the recent double whammy in tandem with the pheromones coming from my friend across the booth were sending me into overdrive. And judging by the way Lee kept shifting in his seat, he was in a similar state of excitement.  

Apparently Two-drink Tuesday also gets its name from the fact that we can’t make it to a third round without fucking each other’s brains out. Soon enough, I’m plopping my fat ass onto a table in a half forgotten supply closet that makes for a decent hookup space if you’re cool enough with Jaime. It was one of the plastic folding ones that are always already old and whose supports were groaning under my weight. The ambient light from the bar that made it down the hallway framed Lee’s expansive form as he lumbered in behind me, round shoulders rising just past the level of the door frame as he ducked in. God he was massive. As he pushed the door closed behind him, sliding us into complete darkness, I could still feel his outline moving toward me, as if he produced his own luminescence just outside of the visible spectrum. 

The bass of his voice filled the room as he chuckled, coming in for a deep kiss and sliding his fingers under the waistband of my leggings as our tongues danced. He was hungry. He pushed me back onto the table as he pulled my thighs toward him. The radiant heat coming off of his crotch became all the more enticing in the chill of the back room, tingles of pleasure echoing from my hole in anticipation. I arched my back as his fingers from one hand traced along my spine, the other tenderly beginning to peel the waistband of my leggings down the curves of my hips. His hands, at this point, were the size of dinner plates but moved with surprising grace. I could feel him resisting the urge to tear the fabric clean off as he struggled to get it over my colossal cakes and tree trunk thighs. A performance of agonizing slowness that had become part of our usual foreplay.

With my hole finally exposed, he slid in one finger, then two, opting for nimbleness and dexterity in light of the brute force that I knew was coming. He worked with a light touch, loosening me up as he undid his pants and slowly slid them off, bending slightly to finagle his prodigious cock free. I regretted not having hit the lights. The slow reveal of his member was a sight to behold, even in the weak fluorescence of the store room. With a grunt, I heard his pants fall to the floor, followed by a thwack against the underside of the cheap plastic table. I briefly fantasized about Lee’s gargantuan cock lifting the entire table with me on it, entertaining the notion that I really could make that happen if I wanted to.

Don’t you? Came a deep rumble from my psyche, the familiar crescendo of energy as Synt’s attention was piqued.

Don’t you start, I warned, still thinking of Blake and his now very well endowed friend. Finesse, subtlety, I added, knowing full well Synt cared nothing for the concept.

But didn’t I? In the haze of lust, I couldn’t shake the hypothetical of Lee with a truly impossible monster cock, and a corresponding body that shattered doorways rather than ducking through them. Was it Synt’s idea or my own? Was there a difference?

I was brought back to the present by a sudden absence. My hole ached with need as Lee’s meaty fingers were withdrawn, moving to caress my torso as he maneuvered his unwieldy dick into place, stroking up and down he pumped out a steady stream of slick precum. He was already starting to moan softly as he slowly worked inch after inch after inch of his schlong inside of me. Ever the scientist, he had last measured his growth at 15.25 inches, but personal experience told me it had definitely grown a little more since then. He settled into a steady pace, holding my body gingerly with his strong arms, leaning in periodically to nuzzle against my lips.

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Harder,” I muttered, the pleasure from his cock stretching my walls only leading to a deeper and deeper need.

“Like this?” he said, picking up the pace, letting more of his strength come through as he thrust into me.

“Harder,” I breathed, feeling the familiar taste of power, the crackle across my throat.

“Mmhm,” said Lee, audibly putting in some effort as he pounded into me, his gigantic hands digging into the globes of my ass cheeks, giving them a hard slap periodically.

“Harder,” I grunted, feeling some sort of release as I had the acute image of Lee’s pelvis corded with muscle, his hips and glutes flexing with vascularity as he pumped with inhuman power.

He made a sound that was some cross between confusion and pleasure, losing control as he jackhammered into me with animalistic lust. He dug his hands in under my thighs and lifted me up bodily, impaling me on his dick as his hips went into overdrive. He roared as both of us reached climax, shooting ropes of cum as his hips continued to buck involuntarily. After the last shudders of orgasmic release, he slowly came back to his senses, pulling his softening dick out of my hole.

“Was that…you?” he asked, his hands exploring a slightly more developed muscularity than what had been the reality earlier that night.

“...I think so.”

 —

I found myself in Lee’s lab early the next morning reflecting on what exactly had developed last night. Of course I was used to dipping into Synt’s power to change people, but this was different. More direct in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

Lee was bouncing around with some extra pep in his step, his usual lumbering movements now imbued with much more grace and poise. One would find it hard to believe that just 12 hours previous he was rearranging my guts with wild abandon. His bubble butt filled out his form fitting khakis, glute and hip muscles becoming all the more apparent every time he squatted down to look at something more closely with his co-PI, Armand. At 5’6”, Armand was almost two feet shorter than the literal giant with whom he ran the paranormal research lab in the basement of the Center. I sat patiently, coffee in hand, watching them navigate the space and prep things for that morning’s procedures. 

Lee and Armand had taken it upon themselves to help me study how Synt’s power worked and what kinds of research implications it might have. Lee was  wildly enthusiastic about the possibilities presented by the deity in my head whose capabilities were seemingly only limited by the imagination of the host. Armand, if a little annoyed by being there earlier than the start of their usual workday, was more interested in how this development, if presented the right way, could secure some more reliable long-term research funding for the entire institute.

After all, the lab could use a makeover. It was kind of a drab, slapdash mix of alchemical and traditional scientific instruments, slowly cluttering into a maze of in-progress and semi-forgotten projects and experiments. One wall was an entire blackboard covered in a collage of equations, mathematical proofs, ancient grammars, bits of poetry, and a running list of takeout places that after many late night deliveries knew Lee and Armand by name. It at least drew the eye away from the rest of the color scheme, which consisted of specific shades of blue and sherbet-beige that one might see at a hospital or some sort of mystical DMV. But it was Lee’s high voltage magic lab. A cleanroom as he calls it.

I was crammed into an office chair at the center of a circle whose circumference featured sigils across multiple human and inhuman languages, each one glowing and fading lightly in slow sequence. I know a protective ward when I see one, and this formed an invisible, magically impermeable sphere. I sat in the middle of the snow globe, wondering what might get knocked loose were someone to come along and shake it, as Lee and Armand set about their final preparatory tasks. Lee was adjusting the angles of what looked like modified environmental sensors, following the wires back to his desktop to check that they were working. A cluster of wires ran not along the floor, but up to the ceiling and above the circle, dropping down and hooking into a brain scan helmet that sat lightly on my head. Armand was fiddling with what was certainly a decades-old fax machine, outputting a slow but continuous stream of paper while chittering softly to itself and occasionally jotting down little dots and symbols. According to Armand, it’s a device that “picks up magical grammars in ambient space and translates them into textual data for further analysis,” but I still think it just looks like a fax machine. He was not amused by this.

Our routine many mornings was me in the evil snow globe, relaying messages between Lee, Armand, and Synt as they tried to experiment with ways to activate, measure, or at least gather data on the texture of Synt’s magic. Bursts of erotic, body morphing energy were beyond impressive, but wildly unpredictable, and the research team wanted to start small and controlled.  We had made little to no progress. It’s not exactly a thing that I can just turn on and off and Synt doesn’t particularly care or even see the point of all this. These little science experiments are a blip on their radar and we probably seem like anxious primates hitting things with sticks. Which to a certain extent is true.

This morning was no different than the others. After enough failed attempts and false positives, Lee sighed, shaking his head at the monitor perched on his modified standing desk.

“I need some caffeine,” he yawned, loping off toward the exit and, I assumed, the coffee shop on the ground floor upstairs.

I was left with Armand, standing hands on hips, staring intently at his fax machine as if, with enough silent pleading, it may just start speaking English. It continued its indecipherable chittering, spitting out snippets of static on the page.

“Did you get a fax?” I asked. “From the cosmos?” widening my eyes for emphasis.

“It’s not–we’re getting basically background radiation and ambient noise. Nothing that really tells us anything,” he said, turning to glance at Lee’s computer. Armand awkwardly adjusted his lab partner’s standing desk, waiting impatiently for it to lower to his height. Eventually, he relented and grabbed a step stool just so he could read the data, shooting me an annoyed glance at having to have an audience for what seemed like a daily ordeal between them.

“So you didn’t feel anything this whole session? No surges of otherworldly power?” he asked.

“I felt hungry,” I responded. “Haven’t heard much from Synt.”

“But Lee said yesterday evening you did it without even trying,” said Armand, scratching the scruff on his chin in thought. 

My heart skipped a beat as I imagined Lee informing Armand about how he got his new power thrust pelvis as if it were anecdotal data, before I realized, “Oh, you mean Blake!”

“Yeah, that was his name. The park ranger guy. He’s been emailing me about some abandoned site out in the forest, I need to look into it. But you changed him just by what? Thinking about it?”

“Thinking isn’t really an apt descriptor of what Synt does,” I thought out loud. Armand had settled into a flat footed squat in front of the cosmic fax machine, on the edge of the ring of sigils. He was staring not quite at me, but at the space around me, as if Synt might materialize from my aura. “Sometimes it feels like the way their mind works is itself a sort of manipulation of space and time. Maybe the way all of our minds work, when you think about it.” The fax sputtered something out, but I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or dissension. Armand’s eyes glanced at the printout then back at me.

“But you channeled that manipulation deliberately, right? Not just specifically to Blake, but specifically to his glutes.”

“Not just that, but yeah. I sort of focused the energy and…released.”

“And what did that feel like?”

“Like…singing?” The familiar feeling danced around my vocal chords. Synt perked up in anticipation.

“Singing. Ok.” Armand began to bounce slightly in his deep squat, which I’d come to realize meant he was on to something. As he mulled over this new bit of information, his eyes traced one of the sigils on the floor. Mine, however, were locked on to the bulge made more prominent by his stance. I could always tell Armand was packing something, and under ‘normal’ circumstances his bulge would be the focus of anyone’s attention, but it was an afterthought with Lee carrying around an unmistakable pipe in his pants.

“Have you done any work on metaphysical harmonics?” he asked.

“I’ve taught the basics, but it’s not something I deal with a lot in my research,” I said. “Bouncing different planes and dimensions off of each other by fiddling with the right frequencies and resonances, that sort of thing.”

“I’ll have to dust it off, but I think we do have the equipment for it,” said Armand. “Maybe instead of brute force reality shifting, Synt is actually doing something much more subtle and graceful, like moving through the pages of a higher dimensional flipbook. Which would explain why Lee, for one, is so good at carrying such big…changes.”

I don’t know why I said what I said next. I had that taste of possibility on my tongue and you know who was pushing at the back of my consciousness, dangling a small invitation to play with the warp of the universe, compelling me to blurt out “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got him beat.” With a wink no less.

A few things happened. One, I did manage to catch the feeling of that spark of power in my throat being released in a very specific direction, straight to the crotch which I had been trying to not look at in my early morning haze. Two, the fax machine printed out what looked like a poem of some mix of text, symbols, and glyphs before proceeding to rewind the spool of paper on its own and carry on printing blanks like nothing happened.

And three, while Armand was watching his precious sensor apparatus misbehave yet again, the bulge in his slacks began to bulge even more. Like, really bulge, unspooling down his leg. To the naked eye, it looked like he was somehow oblivious to the fact that his dick was expanding in real time to over twice the amount of space it had just been taking up in his chinos, the mushroom head becoming distinct against the fabric and his balls alone putting catastrophic pressure on the stitching along the seam. Except, if one would look closer–though that would be rude–they might notice the seam continuously adjusting on its own.

I watched his package inflate as he seemingly didn’t register the changes at all. But through the other sight of Synt’s perspective, it was as if the area around his crotch, and to a lesser extent the area around his body was pixelating, shifting, and falling back into place piece by piece over and over again, resulting in a visibly larger and larger bulge until…what?

You’ve got him beat, said Synt, quoting my earlier comment with what felt like a sly smile. I had been through enough by now to know that the next move was not to investigate the prodigious member in front of me but instead reflect on the timeline–New? Altered? Unclear–that I now found myself in. 

“I guess you’re right,” said Armand, “but Lee still wears it better.”

I guess I had gotten relatively used to it because we were co-workers, but Armand has by far one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen. Not that I had ever actually seen it, but the bulge snaking down his leg was obscene on his small frame. Even with what I assume were tailored pants, it was unavoidable and unwieldy, drawing stares and even comments in public, much to introverted Armand’s annoyance. I kind of felt bad for the guy. Rumor has it that when fully erect it’s a whopping 16 inches, somehow just slightly bigger than Lee’s schlong, which though impossible to miss, still blended in better on a frame that was two feet taller.

If what Armand had surmised was true, and Synt had let their hands play across a multidimensional keyboard, then we had been moving through proximal dimensions in which Armand wasn’t actually growing, but simply had a bigger and bigger dick for whatever reason, following the path of least resistance until he arrived at a size that beat Lee’s, and my offhand comment proved true. I loosely wondered when Noah would get his hands on him, if he hadn’t already.

Armand rose out of his squat to head to the board and add the metaphysical harmonics angle to the parking lot of working hypotheses. His gait was wider and a little awkward, but he wasn’t adjusting to his new size so much as he had already been used to it for years. Had I progressed to what Synt had been doing in my class this past semester? Moving beyond brute force changes and reworking the time stream itself? What else had I inadvertently changed about Armand’s life? What other elements of his social, romantic, or work lives had been altered in unpredictable ways by his inexplicably massive cock?

I needed more caffeine. As Lee came strolling back into the lab, I rushed past him, bounding up the side stairwell to the ground floor and the conveniently placed coffee shop. This wasn’t the most high traffic part of campus, so even during the morning rush, the baristas were bleary eyed and underwhelmed, snapping awake as I lumbered up to the counter.

“Oh, hi, what can I, uh, get started for you?” asked a barista across the counter who was not one of the usuals, made obvious by the fact that he clearly did not expect to be staring up at a man in leggings and a plaid skirt who loomed a full head taller than him.

“Just a dirty chai, and can you throw in an extra espresso shot…Jamal?” I asked, leaning awkwardly to read his nametag.

“Gotcha!”

I still felt disoriented, standing in a sleepy coffee shop having just manipulated space and time through the power of horniness. We may have finally cracked the code for at least a piece of the mechanism of what Logan had been doing originally on accident. The implications were staggering for our understandings of physics, metaphysics, reality itself. I had no idea how far the possibilities went and it sent a chill down to spine to think of what could happen on accident, let alone on purpose, but to be honest I felt powerful. And incredibly horny.

The familiar aftershock of arousal finally hit me, a deep, tingly, insatiable hunger that I quickly realized I would need to find some way to take care of this morning. Lee was right downstairs and this wouldn’t be the first time we fucked in some back corner of the basement. I wondered if Armand might want to prove the rumors true and hit a spot even his lab partner couldn’t reach. I shivered at the thought of almost a foot and a half of rock hard cock jutting off his slim, twinkish body, a completely absurd image of it bobbed in the air as he walked towards me.

“Um, excuse me?” Jamal, with an intonation that implied that hadn’t been the first time he’d tried to get my attention in the past 30 seconds, and he didn’t much care but a line was starting to form. “Can I get a name for that?”

“Oh! Um, sorry. David,” I said. “The only giant in the coffee shop. Can’t miss me,” I added with an awkward laugh.

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised. There was just a guy in here who had to be like seven and a half feet, I don’t even know. Like freak show tall,” eyes widened and hands splayed out.

“Not nearly as tall as you, right?” I responded without missing a beat. “You’ve got what, a foot and a half on him?” 

In my defense I was horny. And in an experimental mood. And a little annoyed at the quip about my friend. And in retrospect, starting to get drunk on power.

But Synt got the message loud and clear, and I watched the fabric of spacetime pixelating and refocusing around Jamal as I craned my neck up and up and up to his wire rimmed glasses catching the reflection of mid morning light.

A blush across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so,” he muttered, with a slight smile and a roll of his eyes. “That chai will be right up.”

[endangered-aquarium-fish]

Golden skiffia (Skiffia francesae)

Critically endangered

When the golden skiffias still lived in their natural home, it was a warm, quiet, gentle, spring-fed river with a bottom of sand and silt and mud, where they found shelter in the roots of floating plants that grew along the shore, beneath a canopy of acacias and willows. They foraged for algae on the plants, and thrived in their river, the Rio Teuchitlán.

Decades ago, the Teuchitlán was polluted, the springs that fed it were damaged, the acacias and willows were killed, and the banks were smothered in farms and urban sprawl. The skiffias barely persisted, and the last nail in the coffin was the introduction of the invasive common platyfish. It took only a year for the platys to outnumber the skiffias fifty to one. The golden skiffia was declared extinct in the wild in 1996. 

Some people loved that river. They despised the horrific things that had been done to it. That’s what drove a coalition of conservation groups to heal the river - they stopped the pollution, restored the banks, and removed the platys - then, they got to work putting the pieces of its ecosystem back together. In November 2022, Over a thousand golden skiffias, descended from fish that had been cared for in aquariums for almost fifty years since they were found in a dying river in 1976, were finally released back into the wild. 

…I can’t find what happened after that. Their relative the tequila splitfin was released a few years earlier, and it’s been thriving - but no update at all on the skiffias. I hope they’re alright. 

Golden skiffias are barely more than one and a half inches long, they’re really cute- they’re very energetic too, always chasing each other and searching and exploring and picking at everything they can find, as long as they never venture into deep water. And they’re social!!! they love to be in large, loose shoals where they find safety and potential mates. They can be hard to find but they’re so interesting and I love their bright yellow splotches :3 

Also, they’re in a really wonderfully bizarre family called the livebearers- they literally give live birth!!! Not like seahorses where they keep the eggs in a pouch, or like some snakes where they just don’t lay them until they hatch. No, they have an umbilical cord and everything. They have way fewer babies that way, but they’re safe from anything that might eat fish eggs, which is most things. Also the babies are HUGE :P

Golden skiffias hate deep water, so they need a shallow tank - it should be at least 15 gallons but ten inches of depth is plenty for them to explore. The tank should mimic the Teuchitlán - dense vegetation and sunken wood to provide shelter and grow algae, moderate water flow, and lots of oxygen. A simple bubbler is a great way to keep them healthy. The water should be hard, and cool (68-74 F) since anything more than room temperature can affect their immune system. And it has to be really really clean - change out at least two thirds of the water weekly!!! I know that sounds really excessive if you’ve kept any other fish but most goodeids really do appreciate it. 

They have a couple other odd requirements too. They do best if you give them even cooler temperatures, like 40-60 F, for 3ish months in winter. That way they can rest - they won’t breed in winter since they’re just chilling but they’ll be healthier in spring. The other is that they will thrive more if you keep them outside in the spring and fall when the weather is nice. They don’t really need it, but something about it makes them a lot healthier and they breed so much faster. 

Since they’re social animals, make sure you get at least a small group to start out with. They’re easy to breed as long as they’re happy, but they can be pretty slow about it - they take about 8 weeks to give birth to 5-15 babies (more as they get older). Luckily, as long as they’re well fed and they have enough room they won’t eat their fry, so you only need one tank. Since they are endangered at best, it’s important that you don’t keep them with other skiffias or they could hybridize - I don’t have anything against hybrids except that it doesn’t really count as preserving the species. They’re best kept only with their own species or with something small that won’t eat the fry. It’s hard to find much information about the golden skiffia specifically but some of their relatives can be aggressive so keep that in mind and add plenty of hiding spots to the tank.

Skiffias need a plant based diet with just a little protein - they love blanched veggies and seem to dedicate their lives to eating algae, and you can feed them regular fish flakes and pellets too. Their favorite protein source is baby brine shrimp - just make sure you only give them meaty foods as an occasional treat :3

These are rlly fun fish if you can find some - just make sure u share the babies :3

[taomyou]

The Affections of an Architect - Chapter 4

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: ONGOING, inconsistent updates Summary: There’s a woman Levi sees every Friday on bus 143, and he thinks she’s really cute. It wouldn’t hurt to keep a paper star from her, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and he falls in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to design the architecture of his dreams. Word Count: 7.5k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking, levi pov (A/N: this fic is available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead! The Affections of an Architect is a spin-off of The Romance of Reimbursements, but can be read as a standalone if preferred. They are the same story, but The Affections of an Architect is written entirely in Levi's POV. The Romance of Reimbursements is already completed, and The Affections of an Architect is currently a side-project that will be updated infrequently.) Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

texts from a friend

Levi looks to the clock perched at the very back end of the lecture hall, and it’s now 2:30 PM.

“We’ve reached time. Remember that your proposals are due before next week, midnight. I’ll also remind you that if you’d like to request any additional office hours, you must email me at least 24 hours in advance. Any questions before we end?”

A student in the back row’s hand goes up. “Professor, do you accept late work?”

Levi recognizes him as the bastard who came during last week’s office hours to aggressively demand that Levi write him a letter of recommendation—two weeks into the course, mind you, and when Levi hadn’t ever talked to him prior to that interaction.

Needless to say, Levi didn’t think very highly of him.

Levi deadpans. “Yes, Forster, I’ve answered this already today. My late policy is also in the syllabus. Anyone else?”

When he’s met with silence, he closes his laptop and disconnects it from the projector. He unclips the small microphone attached to the collar of his usual white dress shirt, and he stores it in its designated drawer underneath the podium. He checks in with his teaching staff to make sure they’re faring alright with their grading workload, and after taking note to email Leonhart another copy of the grading rubric when he’s available, he’s off to go catch the bus.

“Can’t wait to get out of this fucking place,” he grumbles underneath his breath, hiking up his backpack as he goes to open the door and leave.

Why’s Levi so especially bitter today, you might ask?

Well, as it’d turn out, there were plenty of other things that he’s had to worry about over the workweek, and all his frustration has finally caught up to him as he takes the quick stroll from the lecture hall to the bus stop.

He’d gotten everything squared away with his lesson plans relatively quickly, but even though his lectures over the rest of the week went relatively smoothly, he still feels a cloud hanging overhead everywhere he goes. All the grading, all the assignment drafting, all the contracts he has to look over—none of it is particularly harder than it usually is, but Levi’s head is far too removed from the strenuous load after the brief winter break, and his work ethic hasn’t kicked in to where he needs it yet.

If nothing else, work is over now, and he already knows that tonight’s sleep will be especially dreamy. Might as well just toss aside all his problems until he has to deal with them later.

Un(fortunately), Hange texted the group chat on Wednesday to ask everyone (meaning only him and Erwin, seeing as Moblit and Mike are as busy as they always are) to come over tonight for what he presumes is dinner, so he’ll have to go to that, but other than that, he’s free to waste away in his living room and complain about the Frank winning Head of Household during the Big Brother reruns that Isabel puts on.

Ugh, still.

Even though it’s Friday, Levi can’t help feeling distressed. Just last week, he was breathing hot air into the cold winter sky to watch it float away before skipping off to see the unnamed stranger he came to look forward to seeing across the way on the bus, and now he’s caught stressing himself over paperwork and other pro forma bullshit. Even if he didn’t really anticipate any greater interaction than merely getting to hear her greet the bus driver when she’d gotten on at her stop, it was something he looked forward to every week, and he can only barely remember to be excited about it.

At least he’s too wound up in his head to be as anxious about it as he usually is.

No wondering about whether or not you’d think he was too quiet to be worth being acquainted with, no having to think about whether or not he’d have to force small talk to fill the surefire silence. This is certainly better than having to face any gnawing nervousness about seeing you after the awkward mess that was Monday’s lunch hour.

As he steadily approaches the bus stop, he sees that there’s a concerning amount of students waiting there. Why there’s so many of them, he has no idea, but when he’s finally stood in the makeshift line and practically forced to listen to their meaningless conversations, he overhears a group of friends talking about a concert for some artist downtown.

Well, so much for an easy ride home.

Firstly, all these people in an enclosed space? He’s going to have a fucking headache, having to spend the next however many minutes it is that it’s going to take for all these people to get off the bus. Besides, winter get-togethers are enough of a super-spreader event on their own, and even if he’s had to be okay with it, the bus isn’t exactly the cleanest place he could be. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t caught a cold yet, really.

That’s not even to mention the fact that there’s surely going to be traffic in the city, and all the bumps and stops aren’t going to make the inevitable pounding between his ears any more pleasant. The metal of his backpack’s zippers will clang at every abrupt stop, and he’s sure he’s going to want to jump out of the window every time. At any rate, he’s going to have to go directly to Hange’s apartment to make it there on time.

But, almost tauntingly, his subconscious nags at him to wonder… will he even get to see you with all these people there?

Levi’s fairly certain that your stop is before the city’s major stadium, and there’s sure to be other people coming onboard as the bus continues its way through the city. There’s no way that there’d be any seats left open by the time it reaches you. You’d be left holding onto the upper handles until the bulk of people left, but who knows how long that’ll be if the traffic is as bad as he thinks it’ll be?

The bus has now arrived, and even though he’s already making his way towards the opened doors, everyone else around him is scrambling to get their fare situated, and as he scans his own card, he looks back towards the end of the vehicle.

He knows he’ll manage to get a seat for himself, but saving one for you is something he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to do.

Whether or not that’s because his conscience is screaming at him that keeping a seat preoccupied is rude, he doesn’t really care because he’s had enough of his logical mind telling him what to do this week, but would it be appropriate for him to extend the gesture of saving you a seat if he’s only just learned your name not even a week ago?

Nevermind that, would you even want to sit next to him if he’d save you a seat?

And for whatever fucking reason, his mind runs wild with all the ways this simple gesture could be interpreted wrong. 

You barely know anything about him, and he’s more than sure that he’s scared you off enough by being so fucking awkward when he came through your office—it wouldn’t be entirely out of the realm of possibility that you’d just rather never speak to him unless in a group setting.

And you always seem so tired after work, no matter how bright you still manage to somehow be—would he be taking advantage of that by leaving the only available seat to be the one next to him? Erwin had mentioned there were some issues at work when Levi had lunch with him on Monday, so he can only imagine what kind of hell you’re going through as another person impacted by whatever company bullshit was going on. You’re probably as stressed out of your mind as Levi himself is.

But at the same time, wouldn’t you appreciate him taking that into consideration and making sure that you had somewhere to sit? Would it be rude of him to not save you a seat at all?

Or, maybe he should save your usual seat, the one across from him?

That wouldn’t be so weird if it weren’t for the fact that it’d mean you’d know that he remembers where you sit. How could he not when he’s seen you there for the last 4 months? But Levi hardly has any intention of letting on that he even acknowledged your presence in the past, so he doesn’t know if he could do that.

Could he even save that seat? He could plant his backpack there as a placeholder, but he knows that it’d be entirely his own fault if it got stolen or pickpocketed or whatever else someone could do to a backpack.

God, he has no fucking idea.

Whether the universe is continuing to torture him or giving him a break, as he takes his usual seat facing the window, he’s not afforded the ability to make any decisions after someone takes their own seat next to him.

So much for expending whatever’s left of his rational mind.

You know what?

He could just give you his own seat. He doesn’t mind that at all.

Yeah…

Yeah, that’s certainly easier than anything else he could choose to do right now.

This could just be passed off as some sort of returned payment for the expressed generosity of giving him that canister of tea. No need to overcomplicate anything and make it seem like he wants to sit next to you.

This is just an act of… modern chivalry.

Yeah.

Levi sighs to himself as he sets his backpack on his lap and rests his chin over its top handle.

It’ll all be fine. It’ll only take a second for him to get up, offer you his seat, and he’ll be on his way to Hange’s apartment to get food poisoning from their cooking.

Now to just hope that you accept the gesture, and he can hold onto an upper handle and act like his nerves aren’t completely shot.

✰

For the rest of the ride, Levi spaces in and out of focus. The tire of working long hours this week is lulling him to a haphazard state of relaxation, and the only things keeping him awake are the harsh jolts he feels when the driver has to brake, and the fact that he has to be conscious of when you get on the bus so he can give you his seat.

Thankfully, there’s a certain four-eyed scientist across the city right now who needs to ask him for a huge favor.

Levi feels a buzz in his pocket, and, desperate for anything to keep his mind off the annoying bumps in the road, he takes it out to see a text from Hange.

Four Eyes - 3:05 PM

Heyyy still coming?? Not bailing on us are you >:(

Levi sighs.

Levi - 3:05 PM

Yes

Four Eyes - 3:07 PM

Ok perfect!!! Listen listen I need you to buy me like a FUCK ton of eggs I think the biggest pack they have at that one store on Rose blvd or road or whatever has 60 in a big pack And some butter :3

Levi - 3:07 PM

Why do you need so many eggs?

Four Eyes - 3:08 PM

Just trust me!!!!

Levi rolls his eyes.

Levi - 3:08 PM

Yeah no Get them yourself I’m in traffic rn

Four Eyes - 3:10 PM

Im still at the lab so i cant >:O How are you even in traffic, aren’t you on the bus? But whatvr!! Ill just ask Astraea to get them for me

Levi’s fingers freeze and his breath halts at seeing your mention over text.

What does that mean, Hange could ask you to get them? Why would they think to inconvenience you with grabbing fucking eggs in the first place?

Sure, you’re their best friend, but it’s not like Hange’s crass enough to just order you around and do their financial bidding. 

Unless… you’re coming to their apartment tonight too.

His fingers spark back to life, and they move faster across his phone’s keyboard than he can stop them.

Levi - 3:12 PM

Is she coming over?

Surely, that’s not it. You’re busy enough, Hange is probably just going to ask you to pick something up and drop it off since you’re neighbors. It's not like Hange's that-

Four Eyes - 3:12 PM

OOPS LOL DID I FORGET TO SAY

Hange most definitely did not forget to say. This is the same shit as what happened at dinner—them purposefully leaving out information like this.

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose and hides his face in his hands.

God fucking dammit, Hange.

By now, it’s been a bit past a half-hour since the bus has left the Sina University campus, and as the bus stops to let people on and off, Levi realizes he’s already reached the stop where you get on. The person sitting to his right has now gotten up to leave, and while he was planning to give up his own seat for you, when he sees that there’s no one rushing to take the seat, he hastily moves to put his backpack there to save it for you. He looks around to make sure that there’s no one suspicious of him, or at least side-eyeing him for occupying extra space, but it seems that he’s the only one who’d think to care about that at all.

When he hears you give your routine thanks to the driver, he leans forward to see you, trying to trace the direction of his eyes to follow the walkway that leads to where you are. It’s not hard for him to find you, the silver buckles on your briefcase twinkling against the harsh afternoon sun as you turn to walk down the narrow lane to find somewhere to sit.

As your eyes scan for an empty space to occupy, he tries to make contact with you and offer you the seat next to him. He still has no idea whether or not you’d accept the offer or, even worse, be burdened by it, but the gentle tug of his heart is enough to make him want to try.

It’s only right to extend the offer of a bus seat to a friend acquaintance person he knows, is it not? Especially when he’s due to spend the later part of the eve with you and the rest of the group.

He feels a faint flame of embarrassment in his chest when he realizes your eyes haven’t found his, but as he watches you start to reach for an upper handle, he has no choice but to fan it even brighter.

He calls out your name, as firmly as he can without causing any unnecessary noise, and he starts to feel his stomach turn as he tries to catch your attention. Still, he watches as you seem to ignore him, though your hand halts in reaching upwards for a second, and he, again, has no choice but to try again, this time a bit louder. He calls out your name once more, and his heart just about stops when you turn to the sound of his voice and let a small smile find its way onto your face.

All too fast and all too slow, he watches as you rush past the other people on the cart to get him, apologizing as you pass them. The nip of the cold on your cheeks has turned them faintly pink, and you sigh happily as you nod to him in greeting.

Levi takes off the backpack from the seat next to him and puts it on his lap, and he looks up at you nervously. Your eyes were already on him, looking back and forth between him and the empty seat to his right, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

God, he can only hope that he doesn’t look as stupid as he thinks he does.

“Did you save a seat for me?” You ask, pointing at the space next to him.

He nods, unable to find any words to make himself seem sane enough.

You smile again in response, but before you can sit down, the bus starts moving again, and you’re taken off balance. “Woah!”

Thankfully, you already were turning to have your back against the seat and you weren’t going to bump into anyone, but Levi only has a second to decide what to do to lessen your fall back down.

He quickly slides his phone underneath his thigh to free his hand, and he positions himself to place his hand over the glass window behind you, thinking to lessen the impact on your head. He leaves a bit of space in between his hand and the window to make sure that his hand can fall back gently to allow for a softer landing, and he holds his breath as he watches you fall back into your seat. At the contact of his hand against your head, he lets his hand fall back and hit the glass and feels the blunt force of the window against his knuckles.

As soon as you’re comfortably sat, he pulls his hand away, and he looks back down to avoid your gaze as you quietly thank him for cushioning your head.

He nods in acknowledgement, and he dumbly watches as you put your briefcase onto your lap and take out your phone. He resigns himself to looking away to do the same, unlocking his phone to do quite literally anything he can to distract himself.

God, what the fuck even was that?

He didn’t even get to clarify that he didn’t inconvenience anyone by saving you your seat. Would you be upset with him if you’d made that assumption? 

Your shoulders are forced to touch, given the fact that there’s definitely way too many people on this bus in the first place, and even with his nerves totally shot, Levi can feel the heat coming off your body. The bus continues to have as many fast brakes and abrupt stops as it did for the last 30-or-so minutes, so he ends up getting pushed closer to you every time that happens. Neither of you try to make distance between the two of you, probably because it wouldn’t be worth the effort when it’s just going to be closed again, but Levi’s mind goes haywire anyway thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.

Levi tries to ignore it, he really does, but he already knows that the red on his ears is going to be just the same, if not worse, than what he has to deal with on other ordinary, boring Fridays.

His eyes are laser-focused on his notification bar, hoping that someone, anyone, will text him and give him something to occupy himself. He mindlessly scrolls through the local news on his phone, waiting for the cherry red on his face to calm to anything but that.

As the minutes pass with nearly no movement in the road, he sees your phone held out to him. His eyes flicker up to your face to see that you’re looking away, only glancing back to look between him and your phone, so he takes the cue that you want him to see what’s on your screen.

He squints to see the small text, but as soon as he sees Hange’s name at the top of your screen, he knows exactly what it is that’s being conveyed here. He screams in his head that Hange’s done enough meddling, that you absolutely do not need to be dealing with their bullshit request of ordering nearly 8-squared eggs, but because you seem to want to start a conversation with him, he stretches out his hand slightly, asking to have permission to hold your phone.

He doesn’t know what demon it is that overtakes his body in this moment—whether it’s Lucifer, Beelzebub, or Satan himself—but when you pass him your phone, he forgoes reading the conversation to leave you your privacy, and he goes to add himself into your contacts. He’s apparently sane enough to not put anything stupid and self-demeaning as the contact name, but he types in his phone number before practically throwing your phone back at you.

The realization that, yes, he’s just given his phone number to the prettiest woman he’s ever laid eyes on, makes his brain short circuit for a second before he gets a text from an unknown number.

Okay, calm down, Levi, he’s only giving you his number out of convenience. He doesn’t want to interrupt the conversations around him by having one of his own, and giving you his phone number is the next-best option. He quickly adds you as “Astraea” and goes back to the conversation, trying to swat away any bubbling thoughts about you.

Astraea - 3:28 PM

hi

His fingers are nervous as they move across the screen.

Levi - 3:28 PM

Hello I don't think I'd be able to hear you over the people around us

Astraea - 3:28 PM

me neither

His heart relaxes a bit, now with the knowledge that you understand why he gave you his number.

Astraea - 3:29 PM

do you know why there's so many people on the bus today? it's normally never this crowded

Levi - 3:29 PM

There's a concert across town Did you want me to come with you to the store?

He watches you fidget around next to him, faintly biting at your lip as you type back a reply.

Astraea - 3:30 PM

you don't have to

Levi - 3:31 PM

I have to go to Hange's too, so might as well

Astraea - 3:31 PM

i wouldn't mind the company then

When the three dots don’t appear after that message, he figures that conversation’s over.

Though he remains unmoving, you position yourself further forward and rest your arms on top of your briefcase. With his shoulders no longer touching yours, he feels his heart rate slow just enough to let him know that he’s not on the verge of a heart attack anymore, and he’s able to relax a bit. His shoulders aren’t as stiff as they were this entire past week, the stress of everything seeming to fade as the number of people on this damned bus lessens with every stop, until, eventually, there’s no more than a handful of passengers left.

Now that the bus has made it out of down, it’s been moving much more quickly on its route. There’s no longer as many people on the bus, so Levi can see the scenery from the window across from him much more clearly. You’re usually sat on the other side, opposite of where you and Levi are currently, so Levi’s never been able to really see what the terrain on that side of the road looks like.

He hasn’t ever cared to really look before, especially when you’re not here, but it’s quite… calming, he decides. Watching as the colors of the breeze blend together as the bus passes by and blurs the shapes, though, he stills as he gets lost in everything.

Just barely within his peripheral, Levi sees the sign which shows they’ve just reached Rose, and he shuffles about to get his things together and get to the store. He still has no idea what to expect from this all, but you follow closely behind, and after you say a quick “thank you” to the driver, the two of you are off to go and… buy some eggs.

How exciting.

“Just the butter and eggs, right?” He asks, looking over at you now that you’re both safely off the bus. You nod, and Levi leads the way to the grocery store. He tries to match your pace, wanting to be considerate of your time, and he can only hope you’re not too uncomfortable with having to go and be Hange’s goons together.

You end up in front of the store relatively quickly, it not being too far from the bus stop at all. Levi goes to get a cart as you wait by the automatic doors, and though you look confused that he’s gotten one if you’re only to get two items, he puts his backpack in it to prompt you to do the same with your briefcase. When you do, he sees you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, and he gives himself a pat on the back for thinking to get a cart so you don’t have to lug that bag around the store.

Levi’s here quite often as the person in the house responsible for getting groceries, so he pushes the cart to guide the two of you through the store to get what Hange needs. Neither of you make any effort to talk, but Levi doesn’t quite feel awkward about it.

When the two of you reach the self-checkout area, you seem to want to fill the silence yourself. “Do you know what Hange has planned for us at their place?” You ask.

Levi glances over at you and shakes his head. "Not really, they just said it'd be us and Erwin. Moblit and Mike are busy."

You nod, and Levi screams to himself once more—this time, to tell himself off for being too awkward to know how to carry a conversation as simple as this. He might as well have just shut his mouth entirely and not said anything, seeing as he didn’t have any semblance of an answer for you.

You hand Levi the eggs and the box of butter, which he scans both of. Levi goes to his pocket to get his wallet, but as he’s taking out his card to pay, he looks over to see you doing the same.

Before he can say anything, you speak up. "Hange asked me to get it, so I'm paying."

He hesitates at that but puts his wallet away. "Fair enough."

Sure, Hange asked him to buy all of this stuff first, but he doesn’t want to cause any sort of scene here. Not that he thinks you’d be fussy about it, but he doesn’t want to be rude and fight over something as trivial as paying for some ingredients.

You tap your card, press a few buttons to verify your payment, and grab your receipt once that's all sorted out. You put the eggs and butter back into the cart before wheeling out with Levi next to you.

"Do you know when the next bus comes?” You ask.

"I park here in the mornings before taking the bus, so you can come with me," he replies. "Let me take the cart."

"How do I know you aren't going to kidnap me?"

He looks over at you, completely deadpan. "And what am I going to do? Force you to draft a prenup for me?"

You giggle at that, your hearty laughter making faint clouds in the cold air. "Yeah, sure."

You let go of the handle, letting him guide it now, and he directs you to his car, parked in front of the floral shop Isabel’s parents own. "Could I take a look inside?" You ask, pointing over to the shop.

Levi reaches into his pocket for his keys, unlocks his car, and opens his trunk to put away the things you’d bought. He puts his backpack in too, and hands you your briefcase before starting to head towards somewhere he can return the cart.

"Sure."

You smile over at him before quickly making your way inside the small shop, and Levi wheels away the now-empty cart to one of the… whatever they’re called, where you return shopping carts, and he returns to his car.

First order of business: make sure it’s as clean as it always is. From his driver’s seat, he leans over to make sure that the glovebox and other areas are all free of clutter, and he quickly puts away an old birthday card he’d received from his uncle in the mail last week.

Fucker didn’t even bother writing anything nice. Just copied the message already printed on the card, word for word.

He looks behind him in the back row seats to see if there’s any miscellaneous items that need to be put away in the trunk, and when he doesn’t find anything, he breathes easy and goes to turn on his engine, wanting to make sure that the car is warm by the time you return from perusing the flower shop.

Levi takes out his phone as the heaters whir to life, and he grimaces when he sees yet another text from Hange.

Four Eyes - 4:13 PM

Soooooo how’s it going ;)

What the fuck is that winky face for?

Levi - 4:14 PM

What do you want?

Four Eyes - 4:14 PM

WOW OKAY Nvm Are you guys on the way? Im almost home

Levi - 4:14 PM

We just finished getting your stupid fucking eggs

Four Eyes - 4:15 PM

Cool! Take your time!! Haha

Levi - 4:15 PM

… Okay?

Taking that and the cozy warmth of his car as his cue to go fetch you, he puts his phone back into his pocket and goes over to Magnolia Floral Company. Might as well say hi to Isabel, seeing as she’s probably in today.

There’s that familiar jingle from the bell at the door as he opens it, and he sees you and Isabel talking at the further-away counter. The sound gets both your attention and Isabel’s, and the latter of whom grins when they make eye contact with him.

"Hey, Levi!" Isabel greets, frantically waving her arms at him. He stays at the front of the shop, but nods in her direction. He finds you quickly enough, tilting his head towards the door.

"Ready to leave?" He asks.

You nod, scurrying over to where he is before smiling and waving "goodbye" to the girl at the counter.

"It was nice meeting you! Come again soon!" Isabel shouts after you.

You and Levi wordlessly get into his car, and he waits for you to have yourself situated before getting ready to head out.

"Who was that, if you don't mind me asking?"

He puts his car into drive and puts his arm on the back of your seat, reversing out of the parking space. "Isabel's a childhood friend of mine."

"She's nice. Maybe I'll come back to get something for my intern's birthday next month."

The rest of the ride is in silence, apart from the rustling of paper that Levi can’t really understand, but by the time he reaches Hange’s apartment and he’s able to park and see what was going on, he gets his answer when you hold out 3 paper stars to him.

He sees faint black marks along the paper. Did you make this from the receipt you’d gotten at checkout?

He takes it that you want him to have them, so he takes them, silently reaching over you to put them in his glovebox before getting out of the car with you.

You carry the butter and your briefcase while Levi carries the eggs, and you both bump into Hange at the front of their apartment unit.

"Fancy seeing you here!" They jest.

Levi groans. "Can it, Four Eyes."

Laughing, they thrust their keys into your hand. Well, more like their keys were looped on their pinky finger while they carried a huge box, and they awkwardly shimmied their upper body to bring attention to their keys. "Please! My arms are killing me!" They beg. You laugh at them, "missing" the keyhole to prolong their suffering. You do eventually open the door, and Hange breathes a huge sigh of relief once they're inside and can put the box down next to the door. "Thank you!"

"So, what exactly did you need all these eggs for?" You ask Hange, holding open the door for Levi to come in with his arms full. He nods in thanks, but he doesn’t think you see him.

"Just wait!" They say, taking the butter and eggs from you and Levi to put on their counter. "Erwin is on his way!"

Almost as if on cue, Erwin walks straight in, your arm still keeping the door open. "I heard my name?"

Hange claps their hands together. "Perfect! Now we're all here!"

They motion you all over to the kitchen area, where they start setting up a bunch of miscellaneous ingredients. Flour, salt, baking soda—any general baking item you could think of was now on their counter. Levi doesn’t know all that much about baking in the first place, but Furlan’s forced him to watch his fair share of MasterChef.

"Are you finally going to tell us why the fuck you needed us to buy 60 eggs?" Levi quips.

They shush him, continuing to put random bowls and such out, before standing in a power pose in front of the three of you on the other side of their kitchen counter. "Well, since Astraea's offered to teach me to make random desserts before, I thought I'd return the favor! And I think you've all ordered egg tarts before at some point or another, so I'm gonna teach all of you how to make them!" They declare. "Also, I have a company potluck to attend tomorrow, and I thought it'd be fun for us to make these all together!"

Levi, you, and Erwin all look at one another, then at Hange.

"Do you know how to make an egg tart yourself, Hange?" Erwin asks.

"Nope!"

"Do tell, Four Eyes, how we're supposed to learn from you then?"

"I watched a YouTube video at work on Tuesday! I'm sure I got this figured out!"

✰

Hange very much did not have it figured out.

You, Levi, and Erwin followed along as well as you could with Hange, who very much does not know what they're doing. Earnestly, Levi has no idea why he’s even going along with all this in the first place, but something about Hange continuously trying to prove themselves as a well-experienced baker when they’d only watched a 30-second YouTube short at work is too entertaining to pass up.

That, and the fact that there was something strangely calming about watching you form your own tart shells from the corner of his eye.

After about an hour of intense bickering between Hange and any one of the rest of you three, Levi watched in horror as you gently pushed for Hange to let you teach the steps instead. He was sure that Hange would get on the defensive, as they’ve been very overprotective of their supposed “knowledge” in baking this one simple treat, but they surprisingly don’t put up any fight and happily took a seat next to Erwin.

Again, Levi knows fuck-all about baking, but it seems that you know more than enough to pick up where Hange left off. You helped all three of them (and especially Hange) with whatever they needed, whether it was with the pastry shell or the custard, and the tarts didn’t end up all that bad. You got them into the oven and baked well enough, and even though they’re pretty fucking ugly, they end up being fine to eat.

Of course, Levi forced Erwin and Hange to help him clean the kitchen, save for the small area you needed to keep making tarts to have enough for Hange to actually take with them to their party.

While Levi stayed back in the kitchen, Erwin and Hange talked just barely out of earshot, and you silently kept at your baking. Levi sat at the counter, keeping you silent company and cleaning up anything you asked him to, and even though he’d initially been nervous about having to spend the latter evening with you, it's... calming, to watch as you carefully handle dough and broken eggshells.

By the time that everyone’s social battery’s run out, Hange decides that only then is it time to be loud and brash as they always are.

Erwin insists that he doesn't need any to take egg tarts home, but Hange still shoves a decently large tupperware container into his hands and pushes him out the door before he can refuse the gesture.

"Take some for Furlan and Isabel! I'm out of tupperware, so Astraea can wrap them up for you!" Hange says, now pushing Levi and you out the door, him holding a tray of tarts you and him made and you holding your briefcase.

What’s he meant to do now?

You and Levi both look at each other before you start leading the way towards your apartment, Levi then following behind you. You reach into your pocket to get your keys and unlock your door. You step in and take off your shoes, and Levi does the same, closing the door behind him. You walk over to your general kitchen space, pulling out a chair at the dining table for Levi to sit at while he waits for you to wrap up his tarts.

He looks around your kitchen, seeing all sorts of baking appliances neatly lined up against the wall connecting to your countertops. He doesn’t see a tea area, but he assumes that you might just keep that in a cabinet somewhere out of sight.

"Sorry I was a bit quiet earlier," you say abruptly, reaching for something in one of your drawers. "It was probably awkward."

He hums. "It's okay. Figured you had a rough week." Though, you’re hardly to blame for the awkwardness in the first place. He’d be quicker to put that fault on himself.

"What made you think that?" You start digging through another drawer to find something else.

"Erwin complained about some management issue at your firm on Monday during lunch."

You bitterly smile and shake your head, and Levi watches as you move the tray of tarts to where your wrapping things are. Your hands work fast at getting them neatly packaged up, and you place the lot lot into a plastic bag, afterwards going over to Levi to give them to him.

He stares into the bag, and he sees way too many. Did you give him the ones you made?

Looking between you and the tarts, he hesitates. "Aren't these the ones you made too?"

You bring your hand up to nervously rub the back of your neck, looking away from him. "If they're for your friends, might as well gift them the nice ones too," you start. Seemingly embarrassed at your statement, you add on. "Not that yours weren't nice!"

Levi feels a tug at the side of his lips, and he lets out a small breath that’s close enough to a laugh.

“Thank you.”

Just like on Monday, the two of you don't bother saying "goodbye" to each other, only exchanging nods as you open the door for him to go. Before he's completely out the door, though, he feels a tap on his shoulder.

He looks over his shoulder to see you, your face turned away with a seemingly nervous half-smile. “Yeah?”

"Thanks for saving me a seat today. On the bus, I mean. I probably would've lost it if I had to stand."

And, all at once, he’s woken up again. His hands feel brazenly warm, his eyes search for something to catch hold onto, and his heart’s caught in his throat.

It really isn’t that serious. He didn’t even really save a seat for you—he was planning to just give you his own—and he already feels bad for leading on that he’s much more just than he really is.

So why’s he so flustered right now?

The answer is that he isn’t. It’s not like it’s anything new for him to want to disappear into the floor because of you, nor does he think this will be the last time.

This is normal. This means nothing. You’re just being nice.

So he’s going to excuse himself before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.

He clears his throat before replying. "Don't worry about it."

After a good night's rest after a stressful week at work, you stretch yourself upwards and yawn loudly, waking up and fishing for your phone from between the sheets. It's annoying that there's so much sunlight bleeding into your room, but you suppose that's just your punishment for sleeping until the late afternoon.

After rolling onto your stomach and unlocking your phone, you see a couple of texts. Not completely out of the ordinary, but you should answer them now before you forget.

Hange - 9:14 AM

Hey!! Good morninggg THANK YOU for coming over yesterday! These tarts are soooo good I think i'm just gonna buy cupcakes for the party bc i am NAWT giving these to my coworkers Slide me the recipe? ;P

You roll your eyes with a smile before getting yourself up out of bed and over to your bathroom to brush your teeth, typing a response with one hand while you brush with the other.

You - 1:12 PM

you know you're not ever going to make these on your own just come over when you want anything, you know i'll make it for you

You set your phone down on the sink counter as you finish brushing your teeth and flossing, watching your screen to see if Hange'll reply anytime soon, and they do as soon as you're finished with your bathroom business.

Hange - 1:17 PM

Youre the best ily! Omg but speaking of love... Did anything happen w you and levi yesterday o.O

You groan, picking up your phone and taking it with you to the kitchen to get some tea started for your "morning."

You - 1:19 PM

hange you know i'm not interested in ANYONE stop trying to set me up

Hange - 1:20 PM

Yeah yeah you say that now...

You sigh, putting down your phone on the counter and going to fill your kettle. You hear a few other beeps from your phone while you set up your teapot and get your kettle plugged into the outlet, but when you return to your phone, you ignore Hange for a second to reply to whoever else has texted you between now and last night. There's some miscellaneous texts from coworkers asking if you're free to hang out, but nothing really stands out.

That is, until you see a couple of texts from Levi.

That's... something.

You click to open the message as you go to grab the small basket of teas you keep in your kitchen cabinet. You read the message as you bring down the basket and set it down on the counter.

Levi - 10:53 AM

My roommates liked the sweets Thank you again, I appreciate it

It feels as if a small match has just been struck inside your chest, and you put your phone face-down on the counter and groan into your hands.

God, you probably couldn't have come off any more of an idiot yesterday, what with your aversion to looking at Levi in the eyes and just being so painfully awkward, and he's still nice enough to thank you again for some sweets you wrapped up for him?

It really isn't this serious. There's no reason for you to feel so embarrassed that he's texted you to say thank you. There's no reason for you to want to throw your phone down the sink and press the disposal button. There's no reason for your ears to turn hot cherry red at your grown age.

Why're you even so flustered right now?

The answer is that you aren't. It’s not like it’s anything new for you to want to hide behind your hands because of Levi, nor do you think this will be the last time.

This is normal. This means nothing. He's just being nice.

Unsure of what to say in response, you painstakingly look through your teas to find what blend you want to drink today. You settle on some random flowery citrus blend that's been collecting dust, and you put away the rest of your blends before going back to your kettle and teapot and getting everything situated.

Even after you've got your tea in hand and are sat in at your dining table, distantly thinking about what you should make for dinner today, you don't know what to text back, or if to at all.

So you're going to excuse yourself before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.

You clear your throat before you pick up your phone, type a response back to him, and leave it at the table, taking your tea with you to your room to find something else to distract you.

✰

You - 1:43 PM [to Levi]

don't worry about it

✰

Next Chapter

[burnedself]

13th Doctor's TARDIS:

While the 13 does not destroy her console room during her regeneration, she does change the 'desktop theme' afterward anyways because she feels she could do with a refresh, so with that in mind;

Exterior:

I adore Jodie's TARDIS exterior, so I'm stealing it keeping it as is. (The wooden texture??? The shade of blue??? Yellow windows???? Its Cinema.)

Interior:

(art credit)

This is the general layout of the console room, but there are some differences from the artwork in my mind's eye:

-The console itself is more similar (if not identical) to 12's console, rotor and all, but the metal is replaced with either wood or a wooden finish, and the top of the rotor no longer has the rotating Gallifreyan symbols but ends at an ornate finish like this.

-There is a jukebox to the right. -A few of the bookcases are filled with Earth and Alien literature, others are filled with vinyl records. (You can find music from every decade. Though I don't think she has updated her collection since 2005) -There is a metal staircase that leads both to the second floor / balcony area (it is a bit wider than the image, there is a small coffee table and a chair if you want to lounge up there) and to the bottom floor underneath the console.

Bottom Floor:

-Situated directly underneath the console, filtered light from the metal grates gives it a hazy vibe. (You can't really see through but you can hold a conversation)

Picture this but the console pillar is more narrow and taller (though still a relatively cramped space, maxes out at 6 feet) -It is EXTREMELY cluttered. There are various random knick knacks and souvenirs scattered about. -To the left, the Doctor has an aged leather armchair with a footrest, an amp and an electric guitar (from her days as 12) resting against it. She likes to absentmindedly pluck at the strings to do her thinking sometimes. -To the right, there is a small, makeshift work bench, she likes to tinker in her spare time. -In the middle is a swing she likes to sit on for repairs, cables for the console hanging overhead. She loves working on the TARDIS with her bare hands, she finds it extremely meditative.

This is precisely the energy.

[serenescribe]

POLL RESULTS! (+ updates)

After a week of intense campaigning, along with a whopping 340 votes (!!!), I am pleased to announce the results of the longfic poll, along with what the plan is from now on!

With a whopping 42.1% of the votes, "PMMM AU: Lilia Longfic" is the winner! It started in the lead, and despite having fierce competition from "Starchild," it maintained its first place position till the very end \o/

I must shoutout @hanafubukki in particular for making the poll competition as intense as it was! Without all the "Starchild" campaigning she did, it would have been a walk in the park for the PMMM AU.

So what's next?

Well... I'm still drowning in a sea of uni responsibilities, going into the second half of the semester. (Essays, projects, and exams galore!) With that in mind, I don't have much energy to work on longfics at the moment. Nevertheless, I hope I can get the PMMM AU longfic to you all by the end of the year; I will be considerably freer by December! (In the meantime, I'm gonna try to plot things out with Mica...)

As for "Starchild," given the number of votes it received, I'll be sure to make it my secondary focus and work on it after the PMMM AU fic is done. Like I said previously, it's already 1/3 done, so it should not take too much time to finish the rest. Hopefully I can get the both of these done before my next semester of uni commences in January!

With regards to fic and ficlet requests... I'm still not going to open up longer fic requests since I feel bad that there's still about six of them left in my inbox. However, I've done a lot of catch up on the ficlets, so once I find the time to finish the remaining two ficlet requests, I'll open them up again! They're relatively less strenuous since they're below 1000 words, and I'd still like to write a bit if I can.

Okay, that's about all I can think of. I'll probably be queueing my small stockpile of pre-written ficlets sometime soon, once I get around to editing them. Proper blog management (creating a masterlist for Tumblr fics, possibly crossposting them to AO3, finally doing a fucking write-up on that Dæmon AU I've had for months...) will likely only come after I escape the sea of agony that is uni.

(Thanks for being so patient with me, everyone! c:)

[hibewriter]

MARTA

Masterlist   Read it on AO3

Shadow & Bone | Darklina | 3.7K | E 

Tags: Train Sex | Ghost Sex | Technically necrophilia

Wednesday, October 2nd • 1:32 AM • Five Points Station

The hum of her desktop had barely faded as Alina Starkov packed away her briefcase. Client briefings and updated deadlines were haphazardly thrown in with a flourish as she hurriedly exited the building. Ten minutes to jog several blocks and hopefully catch the last train of the night. Her workman’s badge was slapping profusely against her blazer as she half-jogged down the street, nary a soul in her way. 

And why would they be? The workday had ended hours ago, and most had run home to be with their families or pets, not slaving over upcoming projects and deadlines that theoretically could wait. Yet, Alina was a modern woman. A modern woman who didn’t have a pet or a family waiting for her in her small apartment on the outskirts of town. Just ramen noodles she somehow didn’t know how to make properly, always a little crunchy where they shouldn’t be. Occasional robes and bath bombs. There was no need to rush other than to grab her allotted three to four hours of sleep, trudging her way to and from the Marta and hopefully giving herself enough time to change and look presentable to start her work day over again. 

She barely made it to the tracks, hoping directly into the waiting train, barely avoiding being pinched by its closing doors. 1:42 AM. Punctual as ever. By two the train would pull into the last stop of the night, and she’d begin the rest of her trek home in her car. By three she’d be fully showered, a hastily thrown meal buried in her gullet, and sweet dreams of nothingness before her alarm at six thirty. Routine, safe. 

Part of the reason she even liked the late-night train (was it a like? Or was she simply accustomed to it?), was the emptiness of the cars. Plastic seats were uncomfortable, but she didn’t have to pretend that she wasn’t bothered by standing or that a creepy passenger was not trying to see her uncross her legs. Instead, she could sit, in relative silence, reading or listening to her CD player, casually hoping for time to just pass her by. 

She wasn’t prepared for another passenger, the Georgia State Station was typically barren on weekdays as students stayed in their dorms or were already at their hook-ups’ apartments for the night. She didn’t want to pay that much attention to the man joining her car, but her curiosity was piqued when she realized there was no conceivable way that this man was a college student. He looked to be nearly a decade older than her, salt and pepper gracing the full beard and silken black hair. His coat and suit demanded attention, yet his severe demeanor warned off approachability. A man to be respected and revered. 

He paid no attention to her as he entered the car, none that she could gleam from his impassive stare ahead as he moved to sit, just down the car from her. Though, it was like he looked dead ahead. He didn’t check a pager, or leaf through a booklet. His briefcase sat carefully beside him, rigid as its owner. She merely shrugged, staring up at the fluorescently lit ceiling of the car as her CD played the soft synth-pop music of Take Me with U , a soft melody flooding into her ears as Prince began to sing about his love. Vaguely she recognized the own beating of her heart, her gently humming as she tried not to bother the man on the other side of the car from her. But he seemed perfectly fine ignoring her as she hummed, lights passing the windows of the car as they traveled further from the city. She let the soft melody lull her to sleep, her eyes not staying open enough to hear the final notes bleed into the next song of the album. 

I don’t care, where we go, just take me with u.

She woke to the soft chime of the train car announcing their arrival at Kensington Station. A soft stretch as she cast a cautionary glance around her. The man hadn’t left, but his gaze did shift to her the second she let out a soft sigh. She flushed, giving a small wave. He looked puzzled for a moment, curiosity flooding his otherwise serious features. Yet suddenly, blank again. His attention was gone. 

She shrugged it off. Two minutes and they’d be at the last stop, and they could both go on their merry lives. She bundled her suitcase to her chest, sitting in silence as they hurled to their last destination. Maybe tonight she’d actually take a bath instead of a shower. Though that’d only give her two hours to sleep, and even she couldn’t pretend to function for long on what was essentially an oversized nap. 

She nearly sprung out of her seat when the train pulled into their last stop. Her cautionary glance at the man showed he hadn’t moved, the same blank expression on his face as he looked dead ahead. Did he not realize that this was the last stop for the night? She bit her lip, warring with herself for just a moment. 

“Hey!” Her voice immediately startled him, his gaze once again drifting back to her. It must’ve been the low lighting of the car, but his eyes seemed almost entirely black as if darkness were just a mere part of him. She swallowed her hesitation, ignoring the pit in her chest. “This is the last stop, are you getting off?” 

“Soon.” His voice was like gravel at the bottom of a hill. Deeper than she expected, rougher too. As if he rarely ever used it. 

She furrowed her brows, then heard the chiming for the thirty-second warning for the doors closing. She quickly grabbed her case, sprinting out the door, onto the platform. She half expected him to be by her side, also in the same panic as she was to get off the train. But as she looked, the platform next to her was empty, and she frowned, looking back into the train car behind her. Yet, even as the doors closed, there was nothing and no one. 

Thursday, October 10th • 1:32 AM • Five Points Station

It had been simple enough to convince herself that the man on the train had been a figment of her imagination. Sleep-deprived fantasy conjured up as a wake-up call that she should probably get more than just a simple three to four hours of sleep. She’d done well, nearly a whole week of leaving The Fold Publishing House before night truly fell on the city, her head on her pillow by 8 PM. No sight of the man in black, no confusing mostly silent rides to her car. The city was alight with traffic when she went home, buzz all around her. It was refreshing, she almost felt like she was real. 

But not tonight. A pushed-up deadline and an overdemanding client had her glued to her desk, all thoughts of time passing in a flurry of caffeinated beverages from the lone vending machine in the office. Too scared to go down another floor should security have disabled their key cards for the night. But she pried herself from her desk as she caught sight of the ticking time, 1:32 AM . She sighed. Just ten minutes until the last train. She’d have to run. She forewent her briefcase this time, fully aware she’d be back before her boss, probably before most of the office. Her badge and purse were barely in her grasp as she sprinted out of the building, the dull lights of the station winking at her. 

She barely made it. Again. Huffing as she leaned against the closed doors for a brief second before opening them to check the rest of the carriage. He was already sitting, a book in his lap this time. She stayed for a moment, watching the furrow of his brow, his hunched shoulders, as his eyes seemed to trace the page in an urgency she didn’t think she could match. 

“It’s you.” His eyes were on her now, her eyes widening in shock as he spoke. She nodded, finally moving from the door, even though she was pretty sure moving while the train was moving was frowned upon. But she grabbed the rail, moving to stand before him. She didn’t want to sit tonight. 

“It’s me.” She gave a soft smile, extending her hand towards him. “I’m Alina.” 

His gaze flickered between her face and her outstretched hand, eyes boring into hers. Up close she could actually tell his eyes were brown, even though his pupils nearly eclipsed the color. Briefly, she wondered if he was one of those self-important corporate types, mountains of coke keeping them up every night and day as they mined through spreadsheets and data she’d never understand.  But he finally reached, cold hands grasping hers, and she tried not to gasp at the sensation. For someone dressed so warmly, he was like ice against her. 

“Aleksander,” he volunteered, releasing her hand as quickly as he’d claimed it. She nodded, repeating it softly, ignoring the flip in her stomach as he smiled back at her. He gestured next to him, offering a seat. She wanted to refuse, but there was just something in his eye. So she sat. 

“So, Aleksander,” she smoothed her pencil skirt, peering curiously at him. “What are you reading?”

He furrowed his brows, the book clasping closed. It was old, worn leather cracked over, faded gold long flaked off most letters, though one seemed to be an R, if only backward. She raised an eyebrow, maybe that was why he was so stand-offish. He wasn’t from here. But he shrugged, voice soft as she leaned into him. 

“I don’t know.” 

And so it began. 

Monday, October 14th • 2:05 AM • Indian Creek Station

She fell asleep on his shoulder. His voice was gentle as he read from the cracked book, words she didn’t understand flooding from his voice. She wondered if she should go to the library and rent the Russian-to-English dictionary, just to understand what he said. 

“Istinnaya nezhnost' molchit

i nel'zya sputat' ni s chem drugim.

Naprasno pri iskrennem zhelanii

ty pokryvayesh' moi plechi mekhom;

Naprasno ty pytayesh'sya menya ugovorit'

o dostoinstvakh pervoy lyubvi.

No ya slishkom khorosho znayu znacheniye

tvoikh nastoychivykh goryashchikh vzglyadov.”

Briefly, she wondered if he’d ever translate it for her, a strange thought for a man she’d had three encounters with. But she felt he would always be here, their nightly train commute a welcome warmth in her life. She could get used to that. These plastic seats, his soft coat as he read to her, just them. And, as the bell chimed to signal their arrival, she was a little slower to leave the train. Just like the first time, and the second time, when she would turn around, he’d be gone. 

When she arrived home she sighed, moving in a daze. And as she sunk into her sheets she wondered what it would be like to have him lying next to her. She wondered if his hands would explore her skin, would it be gentle, soft? As he found all the ways to make her sigh? Would he be rough, calculated? As he if he’d known all along how to drive her mad? Maybe he already had. 

Tuesday, October 22nd • 2:05 AM • Indian Creek Station

 She’d given up seeing him getting off the train with her. But he was always there now when she got on. After a week of late nights, she found herself not even questioning if he’d be there, almost automatically just falling into the seat next to his, leaning against the wool of his jacket as they sat. Sometimes he’d read from the book, more poems that she wasn’t sure had any significance except his words. Other times they’d talk. She’d tell him about her day, he’d tell her he’d spent his time waiting to get on the train. 

It was the closest thing to a relationship she’d had in years. Yet, it was with a stranger on the train. Could he be called a stranger anymore? Every day without fail, for thirty minutes a day she leaned into his shoulder and listened to his voice rumble just barely audible over the gentle shaking of the train. He spoke sometimes, of missing Russia, missing his mother. She frowned every time, knowing it was…not necessarily popular for him to fly to Russia, and especially not popular for him to fly back into the states. It’d be like setting a beacon on his head, demanding his phones to be tapped and pages tracked. 

Not that she was a paranoid person. She knew of the whispers, watercooler talks with Toyla and Tamar, and hushed conversations when they did business with any foreign company that sounded remotely Slavic. She saw the way Nikolai had looked at her when he hired her. When her HR papers reported that she was a Chinese-Russian immigrant, abandoned like a bike at a fire station down the street. Well. The papers probably didn’t give the context. Just what her government papers said. She had a green card, friends, and a job she clearly loved, but she saw the wayward glances. She heard the change in conversation when she entered a room. She couldn’t imagine leaving the country and coming back. Would anyone be actively unpleasant? Would she be followed? Questioned until they were certain she wasn’t some spy? Or would she simply disappear? “Everything okay, malyshka ?” His voice was a comfort now. Still deeper than it should be, she thought, a hint of an English accent touching his tongue, as if the world existed within his mouth. The soul purpose to take her away in travels of his words. 

“Hmmm?” she raised an eyebrow, staring at the blue and grey tiles, long forgotten by a cleaning crew. “Oh, yes, everything is fine. Just…thinking.” 

He seemed to tense, as if not believing her. But, he dropped it, merely wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her slightly closer. She wished it warmed her. 

Sunday, October 27th • 1:26 AM • West Lake Station

It was odd, stepping onto the platform from the earlier stop. She rarely ventured this far into the west side of the city – her job being in the center, her home on the east. She never needed to be here. Yet, she slipped into the car, she breathed a breath of relief. She’d see Aleksander. She could tell him about her boss, the way he’d sent her all over the Atlanta metro, nary a thought for compensation of her train fare. But it didn’t matter now. Materials were shoved under her seat as she waited. Four stops until her normal step on. Thirteen until home. An empty cart, the promise of Aleksander imminent. 

She needed sleep. Perhaps for a few days, her body protested the ache of being awake for what felt like nearly the entire month. Yet, she’d barely set her headphones on before they arrived at the next station, her favorite figure walking in. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through the cart as if searching, though she was the only one in the room. But his eyes found her, his severe expression transforming into joy, as he strode to her seat, immediately pulling her close as he sat. Suddenly, she was wide awake. 

“Hello, malyshka. ” His rumble instantly sent the tension from her shoulder as she leaned in, the faint smell of his cologne familiar. 

“Hello, Sasha,” she muttered, smiling at his wide eyes as he turned to look at her. “I checked out a book on Russian diminutives today…I thought I’d surprise you.” His smile was like the sun, bright and warm as he pulled her impossibly close. 

“I love it, zolotse ,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips were cold, but it was just barely twenty degrees Fahrenheit outside, and the wind had nearly toppled her rushing into the station. She could only smile, snuggling in tighter. They sat in silence tonight, her head resting on the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was there, he was hers. 

“Sasha…” she suddenly rose, looking him dead in the eye. “Would, *ahem* would you want to come over, to my apartment?” 

He frowned, fingers reaching to take her hand. It stung – the rejection. She wanted to stand up, pull away and walk off the train, book a hotel for the night instead of traveling home. Nothing seemed worse than sitting on the train in silence, and the lasting effects. Perhaps he had a girlfriend, someone prettier, healthier. Someone who didn’t have to catch the nearly one in the morning train home from her job. 

“ Malyshka ,” he reached for her, forcing her hands into his. “I wish I could. There are so many things I want to do with you.” She didn’t know what to say, staring at him. He used one hand to stroke her cheek, looking into her eyes, as he did. 

“I just wish our time together wasn’t so short,” she whispered. He sighed and pulled her into his arms. It was undignified, the position, and she was grateful there were no others to see her. Her feet were tucked under her ass, her skirt scrunching immodestly as she leaned into the touch of a man who seemed content to break her just by holding her. 

“Then stay with me,” he volleyed back. She barely had time to register his words before his lips were on hers. Soft and demanding, cool and controlled as they moved against hers. She sighed, letting herself fall into his kiss. She felt it. That spark women always talked about around the water cooler. The bone-weakening variety, made all muscle control disappear as all she could think about was the press of his lips, the feel of his tongue against hers. 

This time, as she stepped off the train, turning to look for him, she saw him. Dazed expression next to her on the platform, a soft smile as he walked her to the stairs leading to the parking lot. But as she took the first step, she felt his presence disappear. And she was alone again. 

Thursday, October 31st • 2:05 AM • Indian Creek Station

They kissed every time they saw each other. His kiss was a phantom on her skin as she drifted day in and out, waiting for the moment she could get back on the train. He was always there now when she arrived. Pulling her into his arms as they departed. Like a thin blanket at the airport, wrapping her in his presence for those thirty minutes each day. 

It was easy, tonight. Surprisingly empty given the holiday, but many of the students preferred to take the trains closer to the inner city, not on the way out. It never mattered, other cars may have had one or two patrons, but once again they were alone. She’d long given up on pretending for modesty, leaning to his shoulder for a kiss as his hand gripped her stocking-clad thigh. 

Did it even matter? As his thumb traced a small pattern over the nylon, his touch was feather-light. She sighed into his mouth, his other hand, which had been wrapped around her shoulder, slipped under her arm, thumb brushing her breast through the layers. She sighed, relishing his touch as she reached to wrap her arms around his neck. 

Her head filled with the thought of him, the faint smell of his cologne the only scent as his hand inched up her thigh. She allowed her hand to get tangled into his hair, hips bucking as his fingers pressed over her stockings into her panties. She sighed, his hand increasing a gentle pressure, enough to spark that need within her. Her mind protested, a soft whine escaping her lips from equal parts pleasure and exhaustion. 

But as his hand continued, gentle pressure turned insistent and rhythmic, and all her protests of rest and taking things slow seemed to fade from her mind. Instead, she lost herself in the rising feeling, the coil in her belly tightening with each swipe of his fingers against her core.  Her soft whines were swallowed whole by Sasha's intoxicating mouth.  She wondered if she could come this way, his free hand palming her breast as his other whisked away all her sanity with alternating kitten flicks and insatiable circling. 

She relished in it, that rise within her. Her heart, beating so fast she thought it would fall out of her chest. Her hips chased his fingers as she fell closer and closer to the precipice, finally breaking their kiss to cry out. 

"Shhh, malyshka , I'm here." His voice was almost like a dream, her hands coming to grasp his wrists, holding him to her, as if he'd ever let her go. "Let go, my love. Let go and stay with me." 

And she did. Her body seized, a mess of her panties and stockings as she released, a sudden wash of warmth over her as she fell. But Aleksander was there to catch her. Hands that were once tepid now scorching, guiding her through. Lips, once so cold now pressing fire into her skin with each kiss. Only one thought was formed, over and over as she felt the earth swallow her whole. Sasha. Sasha. Sasha .

Her come down came, just as the train pulled into their stop. She sighed, unhappy to pull away from her lover as she gathered her things, pausing only to give him a kiss before stepping off the train. When she looked he was still there. He was there as she began to walk up the stairs, his presence a warmth at her back as she counted each step. Yet, as she reached the top, she suddenly knew. 

Friday, November 1st • 1:45 AM • Five Points Station

Her foot stepped off the last step of Indian Creek Station and she found herself, the entire day has passed, in the middle of the line. Five Points Station was empty, save her car. For inside was her Aleksander, waiting for her again, to travel the line. 

The bell chimed, familiar and soft, and she didn't even question it, drifting into the car and the warm embrace of his arms. A kiss to her cheek as she clung to him, a soft caress of her hair. 

"Welcome back, malyshka. "

[amadeusgame]

August Devlog: Re-Orienting Toward a Full Game

It's the end of the month - here is an update on the ongoing development to turn Amadeus from a demo into Episode 1 of a full 5-part game.

Before getting to the details, here are some important news items:

The linktree now (as of TODAY!) has a link to a community Discord server!

The server is currently quite small and has dedicated spaces for art sharing, in addition to regular updates on Amadeus. If you prefer more interactive communication feel free to join.

(There are also channels dedicated to speedrunning, as that is how the server was born, once upon a time... mute away as you like.)

I'm going to PAX West, and planning to attend both the adjacent Media Indie Exchange and the Seattle Indies Expo. See you there??

And now, for this month's updates!

TL;DR highlights:

Game Progress: Created new sprites/assets, plus a new dev tool to make testing the dialogue system much smoother

Next major benchmark: plan to release updated demo with revamped UI/controls this winter

Project Management: what I learned about making an updated Game Design Document that will keep me on track for the full Episode 1 release next summer. (Hint: if writing a narrative game, start with the narrative...)

Recreation: a list of media I consumed for fun that also helped inspire me and identify my own goals for this project.

Details below for those interested.

Game Progress: New Assets & Dev Tool for Sprites

I said I created new sprites and assets. Of note, a particular very important character now has a finalized design and a portrait. This character was mentioned often in the demo, but has yet to make an appearance...

That's right, it's time for the Solea Portrait Reveal!!!

I'm really happy with her design (including the full body portrait, which I'll save for later). I think it conveys a lot about her character. I want to give a HUGE thank-you to my girl Lecy for answering a ton of my questions about Black haircare while I worked on this design, because I wanted Solea to feel grounded and real, even though the world is fantasy and she's a witch. There reaches a point where drawing from my lived experience as A White Person has its limits, and talking to other people became very important to help me tell an authentic story.

Making this portrait also helped me begin to build and test a new dev tool, because I can now envision a conversation between Amadeus and Solea. Building dev tools is one of those things that I cannot overstate enough how important they are. This tool is going to help IMMENSELY with creating dialogue scenes, helping me choose just the right expression to match each dialogue line.

Using this tool, I can change the values for the left and right sprites and then type L/R to have the game live update to that sprite, so I can swap them around live without having to manually activate/de-activate the sprites. In visual novels, especially those without voice acting, the expression sprites are TREMENDOUSLY important in setting the tone of written dialogue. The same line can feel markedly different with a different expression. In addition, some of my sprites have animations, so being able to test how those animations flow between different sprites is really easy now. I built it to be relatively future-proof, so that if I add other functions (like shaking and sprite barks), with a few tweaks this will help me test those too.

Making this tool took me less than an hour, and is going to save orders of magnitude more time and effort in the long run when I'm writing scenes and matching dialogue to expressions.

Next Major Benchmark: New Demo This Winter

To avoid getting hopes up: my current plan for this is to have effectively the same demo in terms of narrative, but with improved mechanics that will be the norm for the full game. There is a lot more narrative that is going to be in the full Episode 1 release than there is in the demo, but it does not make sense to start building the scenes for the rest of the narrative until I go back and thoroughly fix/implement all of the gameplay changes I want for the complete game. My hope is that anyone playing it will feel that, even though the narrative is the same, the game itself will feel much more polished and cohesive. This demo will be my proof to myself, and to you, that the full game is coming, and it will feel good.

(Famous last words: "if I have time," I hope to add a little extra content too, to entice those of you who already played the demo. I just want to be clear that the focus will be fixing and adding mechanics, including a Settings menu and better controls, first and foremost.)

Do you have thoughts for what you would like to see added/improved for this demo? The askbox on the Amadeus Game tumblr blog, as well as the Discord server, are both great places to provide feedback if you'd like to see any changes implemented in the full game. Check the linktree for links to those resources. I do already have a to-do list, from playtester feedback as well as my own experience/preference; but I am always seeking additional feedback!

Project Management: Making a New GDD to Actually Ship The Full Game

Making a Game Design Document (GDD) in class for the prototype that would eventually become Amadeus was simultaneously the hardest and most important thing I ever did for it. I struggle with breaking down tasks, but it is specifically because I struggle with it that forcing myself to do it is invaluable. Once I broke down the task of "make an entire game prototype" into all of its discrete pieces, and organized them into a calendar of deadlines (complicated ones first!), I could visualize how much work it was and prioritize, downsize, and get to work.

It also really helps fight against the part of me that constantly wants to add new shiny things. "Oh it won't be that hard if I just add this here and that there" - this is the Devil speaking. Once I can see a massive list of Everything That Needs to Be Done from breaking it down, it becomes clear that I don't even have enough time for the current vision, let alone one with extra bells and whistles! And then the question becomes "how do I prioritize just the essentials, and set new expectations for something achievable?" Start there. Always start there.

Unfortunately, when it came time to do one of the tasks I set myself for this month ("update the GDD"), I realized that task in itself needed to be broken down. I have an old GDD for a demo that was about 5-10 minutes long , has working but janky mechanics, and a laundry list of "will get to this later" items.  Transforming THAT into a GDD that would keep me on task to ship a complete Episode 1 is, let's face it, basically making a new one from scratch. The time I allotted to this task was not proportionate to how important and time-consuming it was going to be.

What I DID do, is sit down and make a plan to actually make this happen.

First of all, I need to make new paper prototypes, and get feedback on them. I am planning major enough changes to gameplay/UI that I need to prototype them on paper, see what makes the most sense, and use that to build the changes. I can't update the part of my document that talks about new mechanics to implement until I decide, concretely, what those mechanics should look like! I have some thumbnails I sketched already, which is a start. Next is to "build" and test them.

I also found that the biggest roadblock is that I had still not finalized the full narrative arc for Episode 1. I cannot make a list of needed assets until I have a total number of scenes/locations in mind, which I cannot have until I know exactly where Episode 1 begins, goes, and ends. I have a lot of overall ideas, and I know some basic major plot beats for each episode, but I was putting off more specific narrative work until later... because, well, it's hard work! And, like the GDD, the fact that it's hard means that is exactly why it needs to happen first. It's absolutely critical to the entire form of the game, and how I must direct my time and energy during development.

Now that I understand this - that I need to start over with paper prototypes, sit down and FULLY outline my Episode 1 narrative, and use that to create a new GDD that truly tracks every step between now and release - I have a game plan.

So, next month is going to be critical. This past month was a lot of me figuring things out and identifying what wasn't working. This doesn't really sound like an accomplishment, but it is one. Now, I know how to actually approach this, and I can get to work. I hope that, this same time next month, I'll be writing a devlog that inspires confidence that this game is really and truly going to launch. Because I'll have finished the hardest part of the whole process: planning it, breaking it down, and organizing it.

Recreation: Cool Media That Inspired Me This Month

Seriously, rest and recreation are so important! It's important to take breaks, it's important to have fun, and it's important to engage with other media when creating media yourself. This month was really full of inspiration for me. I....

Played The House in Fata Morgana, an absolutely incredible gothic horror visual novel. It was SO inspiring for me, in terms of mechanics, narrative, and aesthetics. In fact there were several ideas developed in this story that I had already planned on engaging with in Amadeus, so seeing another interpretation of those ideas was a fascinating reference. Unfortunately, as with most visual novels, I cannot elaborate further without spoiling the entirety of both narratives. You should play it though.

Watched a lot of werewolf movies. Even though Amadeus belongs more to the mystery and fantasy genres than the "werewolf" genre, the fact that the main character is a werewolf is a kind of extremely important driving force in the story. And I felt like I should do my due diligence and engage with a lot of werewolf stories before writing my own, because no one wants to be that guy who writes a story on very well-trodden ground and thinks they're doing it Special and like No One Else Ever Has. ...Also, full disclosure: I just wanted to watch a bunch of werewolf movies. So I checked out:

(Rewatch) American Werewolf in London

(Rewatch) Silver Bullet

(Rewatch) Bad Moon

(First Time) Ginger Snaps

(First Time) Wer

I filled up about 2 pages of scribbled notes on different ideas, topics, images, conflicts, and themes that I want to engage with from each of these. I found that some of them asked questions that I am also asking in Amadeus, and gave me inspiration for how I might answer them. Since I know that narrative is the first thing I need to iron out, having a few brainstorming sessions while watching werewolf movies helped me get a more concrete idea of what, specifically, I want to say and do in my narrative.

If you haven't seen any of the movies on that list, by the way, I very strongly recommend American Werewolf in London, Silver Bullet, and Ginger Snaps.

That's all for this month! There should be another devlog at the end of September - look forward to that one. In the meantime, you can always bookmark the Linktree and check back for new resources.

[dzamie-oc]

Named and Forgotten

Y'know, I don't write my ocs very often. Time to change that. Local Mary-Sue bothers his rival specifically to show off how medium-aware he is. This cat causes problems on purpose.

#

Kenneth could barely keep himself from burying his head in his hands. "Alright," he said to the cheetah-colored mistake of reality he considered his rival, "casting aside your "Fictional Relativity" nonsense, why should I believe you that we're fictional, too? I feel pretty real, after all."

"Well, I figured you might enjoy being correct about something for a change," Dzamie replied. Kenneth glared at him, hoping that maybe, this time, the katul would simply suddenly die and stay dead. Instead, he just shrugged. "But I figure you're asking for proof, so how's this?"

Dzamie snapped his fingers, and a green, three-ring binder appeared in his hand. "This," he gestured at it, "is a list of the named and forgotten." When he set it on Kenneth's desk, it kicked up a small gust that nearly blew off a few papers. "I suppose I could magically automate its update, but, honestly, it's more fun to catch the narrative looking away and do it manually before it comes back."

Despite himself, Kenneth reached for the binder, flipping it open to the first page. It was filled with names and short descriptions, in handwriting neater than he had expected. Strangely, the first few entries were listed as being meerkats. Normal meerkats. "You've been hanging out with Eris too much; her chaos has infected your brain." He turned the page. "…hey, wait, I recognize some of these names."

"Your old katul-hunting gang, right? The ones you razed my home village with?" The clearly-insane cat spoke as though discussing tomorrow's weather.

"Yeah. Huh, I wonder what happened to them."

"No clue, hopefully died. No offense taken, by the way."

"Unfortunate, I wish you'd taken some and left. So, how does this prove your point?"

Dzamie summoned a chair, gave it a second thought, then instead turned himself into a massive, blue snake - presumably, Kenneth thought with more than a twinge of annoyance, to rest in a way that would bother him the most. "Read some names out," he requested.

Kenneth raised an eyebrow, but looked back at the paper and read aloud all the names of his old buddies.

The snake shook his head, slowly. "Try again. Choose one name, and read for me the entire entry. Starting with the name."

"I don't see what this is supposed to prove. I'll start with-" Kenneth stopped, strangely. He knew the guy, he'd spent months, maybe years with him slaughtering the furred pests before, admittedly, mellowing out.

"The guy's name is-" and again. It wasn't like he couldn't read; the letters were perfectly legible, to the point where he almost envied his rival's penmanship.

"What? I know we've not talked in awhile, but c'mon, I know-" Kenneth worked his jaw. Did his old friend get himself cursed?

"Alright, then, I'll skip him and move onto-"

"Er, how about-"

"Okay, last one! Really simple Joe-Schmo type name! Right there, on the page! His name is-"

Kenneth slammed the binder shut, and he threw the thing at the katul. "Alright, you do it, then! Whatever the hell is wrong with this thing, anyway?!"

The blue snake rubbed his snout where the binder had hit against his coils, then turned back into the bipedal cheetah that Kenneth knew and loathed. "Oh, I can't directly say their names, either," he admitted, picking up and de-summoning the binder. "I just like knowing things that the narrative doesn't. Bit of a reversal, for once."

"And this is proof?"

"It's strong evidence. Unless you think someone individually cursed every single person in there not to have a name you can directly acknowledge. Including the meerkats."

Kenneth finally gave into the urge and planted his face directly into his hands. "Y'know what? I do not care. Please tell me you came here for something other than philosophy? I just cleaned and I'd prefer not to get your blood over everything."

Dzamie waved a hand dismissively. "Like you could land a good hit. Oh, that's right! I initially stopped by to mention that HM finally made good on his idle threat to eat an entire orphanage."

"By Fyoor's fire, why do you even-"

"Anyway, good luck with whatever politics stuff arises from that! I'm gonna go be literally anywhere else!" With a snap of his fingers, Dzamie was gone just a split-second before dozens of magical blades zipped through the space he used to be. Kenneth reinforced the soundproofing spell around his office, gripped his head tightly, and screamed.