#she prefers comfier clothes

[enthusiastic-nimrod]

Some sketches I drew of Bea at different age stages!

This has actually been a super useful exercise, because the faces I draw for adults tend to be “squished”, so comparing how SHE would look as an adult vs a young teen/older teen is super helpful

[daenysx]

i have a request !! i feel so sick today like i have such a bad cold and my head feels like a balloon:( i just want remmy to come pick me up and hug me :( and bring a blanket and water in the car :(

i hope you feel better soon, lovely, thank you for requesting! i tried to write this as fast as i can so i'm not sure if it's good ♡ requests are open

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff

you sit on the sidewalk while waiting for remus because your legs feel like jelly and you think you'd feel worse if you fall.

it's probably because of taking care of marlene a few days ago, you're undeniably sick. she told you not to get too close so many times but you didn't listen. your body can give up any moment, you wish remus comes quick.

his car approaches, he slows down when he sees you. a wrinkle forms between his eyebrows, what are you doing sitting on the sidewalk like this? your voice didn't sound so bad on the phone but remus can imagine how you try to make it better just to prevent his worries. he leaves the car and rushes to your side, kneeling in front of you without caring about his knees.

"baby." he says, his hand on your cheek to see you better. "are you okay? are you hurting?"

you give him a slow smile before speaking. "i'm okay. i couldn't stand up for so long, sorry."

remus hugs your shoulders, he can't help himself. he coos, pushing your hair from your face to kiss the side of your head. "come on, let's go to the car." he says, gently.

you lean against him, he helps you sit on the passenger seat and buckles your seatbelt. it's like you can't lift your arm, your muscles feel too weak. he sits on his own seat and turns to see you. you're frowning slightly, there are a few teardrops ready to fall down when you blink. you look so tired.

"do you want some water?" remus asks, taking the bottle in his hand. you nod, the water helps your throat cool down a bit. remus holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your skin.

"do you want to go see a doctor?" he knows you prefer resting and taking care of yourself at home before seeing a doctor most of the time. you feel better at your shared apartment. you shake your head. "i think i just want to sleep."

remus starts the car, his hand stuck in yours as he drives. you take occasional sips from your water, your head feeling heavier each minute. it doesn't take long, remus parks the car and helps you out of it.

you put your melting body on bed the second you get into the apartment. your eyes are closing without your control, you can hear remus moving in the room but you can't look at him.

your boyfriend helps you out of your clothes. "come on, try to help me." he says softly. "can you lift your arms?"

you lift your arms but your headache becomes unbearable. "my head hurts." you mumble. remus is quick as he helps you lay down properly, he adjusts the pillows for your neck.

"i'm gonna bring you some water and painkillers, lovely." remus says. "are you hungry?"

"no, thank you." you say. "maybe i can have some soup later."

"of course you can." he gives you a kiss on your forehead. "i'll make some of your favorite. you need to get some sleep now."

remus brings you a huge glass of water and some painkillers. you get under a light blanket, your head is pounding. he lets some air in the room as you try to get comfier on bed but your body doesn't feel well.

"remus." you call him. he is on your side in a second. you extend your hand to him, he takes it. "can you hold me until i fall asleep?"

he pulls you to his chest, your head on his heart and his arms around your waist. you focus on his heartbeat, his fingers stay on your hair to massage your hair lightly. laying with remus is always easier, your bodies complete each other in bed like puzzle pieces. he's so quiet, you find peace in him.

"thanks for coming to get me from work." you say slowly.

"you don't have to thank me for it, dove." he kisses your hair. "you know i'll always be anywhere you want."

remus draws shapes on your skin with almost invisible fingers. he'll hold you until he's sure you're asleep and then he'll make you soup. you snuggle closer to his body, that makes him smile. he keeps your hand in his, massaging the spot between your thumb and forefinger to relieve some tension.

the last thing you do before you fall asleep is kissing his neck. your lips stay on his skin.

[lace-coffin]

Slasher autism headcanons

Requests are open!

is this just me projecting onto other slashers? Absolutely! It’s like the spider man pointing at eachother meme but it’s just me and slashers both having autism 😌

Tw: slight mentions of meltdowns and self injuring stims

Billy Lenz

*slaps him like the hood of a car* “do you know how much autism you can fit in here?”

Billy struggles with loud noises especially repetitive ones. He often holds the phone far away from his ear when calling the sorority because he can’t stand the call tone. please get him some headphones or ear defenders

Despite this he enjoys making a lot of noise through vocal stimming/echolalia, picking up on words or phrases he hears from you or the others at the sorority. He usually has a record playing to keep him from getting under-stimulated, though this can be a delicate balance because sometimes it helps and sometimes it’s too much and annoys him.

Billy is hyper verbal (this may be more of an adhd thing I’m unsure) he has so many thoughts he needs to voice to the point where it feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get them out audibly. He does struggle knowing when it’s his turn to talk though so he may accidentally talk over you.

Billy tends to get along with animals better, connecting to them just feels easier and more natural. He loves to hang out with Claude and rub his face against his fur.

Billy often throws and breaks things during meltdowns, doing it in the heat of the moment and regretting it later if it was something he cared about. Please reassure him it’s not his fault and help him clean it up/ fix it when he feels ready to be around people again.

May not be purely and autism thing but affection bites for sure

Bubba sawyer

Bubba stims in a lot of ways. Flapping his hands in excitement and doing little dances. I think She would play with the charms on her bracelet she took from Pam when they don’t feel safe to openly stim, say he’s in public somewhere he’s not familiar with or dealing with victims.

They have a habit of hitting their head with their fists during meltdowns and pacing (as seen in the og movie when she’s upset about the victims breaking in when no one’s home)

Bubba is also hyper empathetic, other peoples emotions have a big effect on them, sometimes making it hard to settle when their family is distraught.

Non verbal- speaking feels unnatural and straining for her, her family have never pushed him to talk since it’s clear it’s uncomfortable so she’s happy to communicate via noises and body language. Communication cards may be helpful for when more complex answers are needed.

Loud noises aren’t really a problem for her since he’s running around with a loud ass chainsaw all day but it can become grating after a long day if they’re overstimulated already, they’ll push through it and get the task done but he’ll need some time alone in his room to recuperate after.

Doesn’t leave the house super often, they’re much comfier to be home around people they know. She does occasionally go shopping with Drayton and their siblings but it’s very taxing on her because of all the stimuli so it’s not super often.

Michael Myers

I think he’d have a very specific pallet, not liking inconsistencies in its foods and preferring to stick to the stuff it knows it likes. he has such a sweet tooth and eats a bunch of candy. It likes the texture differences in different kinds of sweets, jelly is a particularly good one. Mikey eats a lot of grilled cheese to, it’s mum used to make it for him a lot as a kid and it’s a staple safe food for him. He likes his food bland and beige (me to mikey)

Very specific about his clothing, labels are an absolute no go and need to be cut out. He only likes to wear one brand of coveralls because they’re the only ones it feels sits right without making him want to crawl out of his skin. So basically its wardrobe is just a bunch of the same brand coveralls. (Like SpongeBob with his identical wardrobe lol)

Non verbal through choice, mikey can talk but finds it uncomfortable to do so it usually doesn’t. If he really needs to get something across that he can’t then it’ll use sign.

Low empathy, Michael feels empathy for people close to him like his mother or you but not for others. He doesn’t really understand why he should care about people unimportant to him.

It’s part of Michael’s routine for you to go to bed together at the same time, it gets gradually more antsy the longer you stay up over bedtime. Eventually if he deems what you’re doing not worthy of staying up for he’ll just pull you away from it and carry you to bed. It also sleeps in a specific position, he has the whole bed to sleep in but prefers to curl up in the same way he did back at smiths grove, apart from there he didn’t have a choice. If you’re asleep and splayed out Michael would rather sleep on the sofa so he can be in its comfy position. He also probably won’t touch you if your wearing pyjamas with a bad texture, brushed cotton is a no and he won’t be cuddling you unless you’re in a safe textured set.

Doesn’t like eye contact much, he feels more comfortable in looking at peoples face if it’s wearing a mask, it’s less intimate and awkward.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms can go from very clingy to not wanting to be touched very quickly. He adores being attached to you anyway he can, like cuddling you from behind when cooking or wrapping himself around you in bed. Despite this Brahms can get overwhelmed with touch sometimes, the feeling of ‘to much’ buzzing under his skin. If this is the case then he’ll likely need time to himself back in the walls.

Brahms likes everything to be on schedule and to follow the rules. Like we see in the movies he gets upset when his rules are ignored since it throws of his routine and schedule. If you need to do anything extra or take something off the schedule please let him know in advance so he has time to process it.

Low empathy but only for people not super close to him. He understands how he’s expected to react socially to peoples problems/pain and can show it through masking but it’s purely because he thinks it’s what he has to do.

The walls are a safe space for him. His room was the place he felt calmest after what happened with his parents, its decorated to his taste and dimly lit as not to hurt his eyes. His room has everything he needs within close distance so if he’s feeling low on spoons then the fridge is only a few steps away. Plenty of blankets for pressure/burying himself into.

Also we can’t ignore the fact he literally masks with his porcelain doll mask lol

I think Brahms would use too much eye contact as opposed to none, he was taught it was polite in his lessons as a boy and took it slightly to literally. He loves to stare at you affectionately < 3

Asa emory

Special interest in bugs and entomology! I headcanon that he mostly became a professor so he can info dump about his special interests all day to his hearts content. He can get frustrated quickly if he feels he’s not being listened to.

(Ignoring the shitty enclosures in the collector bc I say so) I think proper husbandry would be important to him, he researches for days before he feels comfortable setting up a home for his specimens. If he’s feeling overwhelmed he likes to sit with his bug enclosures, watching over them and rocking himself.

Asa connects to his bugs more, finding them easier to understand , bugs tend to have more readable body language so it’s easier to tell when they want to be left alone without pressing to far. A person may say they’re not upset but are only hiding it to be polite. A tarantula will bare its fangs and let you know when it’s had enough.

Asa is very precise in his traps, planning them thoroughly before assembling, however he can get overwhelmed and upset say if a wire snaps repeatedly or the trap won’t work as it’s supposed to. He can feel himself boiling over and will abruptly stand from him chair, taking himself over to his bug collection to distract himself and hopefully avoid a meltdown.

[lild00td00t]

Straw Hat Pirates: Love Languages

Luffy

PHYSICAL TOUCH

• With as much as Luffy hugs, wraps around and embraces people he genuinely comes off as a physical touch type to me.

• Loves sitting beside you, if you can’t sit directly beside him he’ll make sure you’re touching in some way, is not AT ALL shy and WILL sit on your lap-

• definitely pulls on your arm or pokes you to get your attention, and holds your hand whenever you travel together

• He loves giving random hugs through the day, doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’ll find you 👀

• Sitting and reading a book ? That’s cool, Luffy wants to be sitting directly beside you, almost in your lap reading it too. Taking a nap ? Awesome, Luffy will join and wrap around you like a python. Eating ? How kind of you to “share” your food and hold his hand while you eat

Zoro

QUALITY TIME

• Zoro loves getting to have drinks with you, whether it be with the crew or only each other so long as you’re there he’s having a good time.

• Adores having you with him while he trains, he’ll catch you sneaking a peek and trying to play it off like you didn’t, only for him to secretly flex more, or turn away to give you a better look, he knows exactly what he’s doing

• Just having you with him regardless of whatever he’s doing, whether it’s drinking, training or on look out he enjoys you being there

• He enjoys the comfortable silences that you two have sometimes, where he can listen to whatever you’re doing while he’s cleaning his swords, knowing you’re just a few feet away brings him comfort

• It’s a good thing you’re always together too, you make sure he stays with the crew, much to their relief. Unless you’re just as bad as he is at navigation, then you’ll somehow end up in enemy lines in the complete opposite direction of the crew… if that’s the case, then… atleast you’re together, right ?

Ussop

GIFT GIVING

• Most of his gifts are handmade!!

• Listens to you INTENTLY for his next project, he’s always making things and leaving them for you to find, it’s the sweetest

• I feel that Ussop has AMAZING attention to detail in relationships, he’ll notice you talk about something often or buy something more frequently then other things, and from there he has an idea of what to get you

• You’ll wake up to your favorite snack food on your bedside table or a new piece of jewelry you were looking at, he pays VERY close attention

• ALWAYS knows what to get you, he’s like a mind reader, I bet he’s the type of person everyone hopes to get for white elephant gifts besides Nami, they always get the best gifts.

• His are always so sweet and sentimental as well, I imagine he gifts you drawings of yourself as well, his handmade gifts are simply adorable and the sweetest

Sanji

ACTS OF SERVICE

• “ I was born to serve the ladies! “

• And serve he does - need a drink ? A snack ? A comfier blanket ? He’s on it!!

• LOVES making new foods for you to try, whether you have a sweet tooth or prefer more savory meals he’s constantly aiming to please you

• Takes care of the dishes, cleaning, and prep all by himself, won’t let you lift a precious finger in his kitchen, though you can stay and chat with him, it would be extra appreciated!

• He loves being your errand boy, and will gladly see to it that both your errands get done, on top of that he’s ALWAYS the one cooking dinner, as Sanji says, he loves to serve!

Nami

GIFT GIVING

• Nami’s love language was quite obvious to me, which is gift giving.

• the problem with her “gift” giving is…… was it actually purchased or did she use her five finger discount. In other words, did she steal it ? The anwser is: most likely.

• Nami gifts you lavish accessories and clothes, she LOVES matching outfits sometimes. I would imagine since she’s ALWAYS shopping she picks up a few matching things here and there. She expects gifts in return however, and I imagine she isn’t cheap to shop for, but whatever you get her I imagine she’s very appreciative.

• Dates with her would look like lavish shopping trips between the two of you, no Luffy or Zoro to destroy half the town and send everyone fleeing, just you, her, and a pocket full of cash to spend!

Nico Robin

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

• Robin thrives off of words of kindness and encouragement, let her know she’s a great partner or that you enjoy her and she’ll be so grateful for you

• Give her nicknames, please, this woman needs so much kindness after everything she went through

• I feel sometimes Robin needs reassurance, sometimes the names that hurt her in her past come back to haunt her, which is why I feel she would thrive on your encouragement and affirmations

• She definitely returns the favor, praising you for even just the minimal, she will always voice her contentment with you

• Will give you even cuter nicknames, I imagine she’s quite crafty and thinks of some crafty ones as well!

Franky

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

• LOVES when you call him or anything he does ‘super’, he gets so excited that his mannerisms are rubbing off on you

• He’s such a softie, he cries if you start to get sweet with him, he’s ALWAYS the first to cry or get emotional once you compliment or begin to affirm him, he’s just so touched by your words!!

• Always shows his new inventions or ideas to you first. You give him the motivation to make it even better or build it faster, you are indeed his muse and inspiration for most things!

Jimbei

ACTS OF SERVICE

• Like Sanji, he is a doer. He’s always cleaning or finding ways to help the crew out, he’s never idle!

• always offers you a helping hand, especially if you have trouble finding the motivation he will make sure to personally assist you in what you need help with, whether it’s running errands or getting up for the day hes there to encourage you and take on the day with you, even if that means giving you an extra boost to start!

Brook

QUALITY TIME

• ALWAYS goes to you for song inspiration, like Franky, you are his muse!

• Practices his songs or music when you’re together, you get exclusive access to all of Soul Kings unrealized albums.. your friends must be so jealous!!

• Will always share a cup of tea with you in the mornings, it’s the one time you find him to be quiet before he starts his musical practice.

• he loves to sing for you too, not just practice, but he practically serenades you. Before bed he’s outside the door, guitar in hand while Franky sobs in the backround, wailing about how beautiful love is, atleast he has a special way of conveying how he feels!

[lfghughes]

gentleman jack him being nominated for some team award or fancy gala and taking his girlfriend. He in a suit, she in a long dress, limousine, champagne, red carpet; He's in love with every move she makes and she's bursting with pride.

a/n: this is me calling the win now for lady byng and you can all hate me if im wrong

Being in front of the camera wasn’t exactly something you dreamed of but every once in a while you just had to put your big girl pants on and do it. You knew Jack didn’t really like it either. It was one thing playing hockey in front of thousands a people every other night but putting on a suit and go to a big fancy event was a little bit of a sacrifice for the two of you when you preferred staying in or something much more casual.

You finished getting ready and you had to admit you did love the long dress you had on and okay maybe it did feel good to dress up a little for one night. Walking out of your bedroom and into the living room you saw Jack struggling with his tie. “Here let me help.” You told him as you walked up to him but his eyes go wide when he saw you. “What? What’s wrong?” He quickly shook his head at your question.

“Nothing you just look stunning.” He told you as his eyes grazed over your whole dress. Something about the way his eyes traveled all along your body made you feel like you were on fire. You snapped out of your thoughts as you went over, helping him finish his tie. “So..You think you’re still going to win that award even after your little ‘not fight’ with Aho?” You teased him, a little smirk on your lips as you used his own words against him.

“I really hope not simply because I don’t want to give a speech. Wait do you think I have to give a speech?” Clearly he had not paid much attention to any of the details of this and you hoped there was some kind of speech process just to hear what he would come up with on the spot. Once you both were done getting ready you met up with Nico who would be riding with you guys and a few other friends of Jacks that were also going to the award in a limo.

This was probably one of the fanciest things you had done, between the limo and the champagne. Both you and Jack lived a pretty simple and casual life even though you knew he had the ability to be doing this every night if he wanted to. Luckily he was much more low key about it. That didn’t really help either of you when it came time to the red carpet, you had felt awkward the minute you stepped out of the limo but quickly found your groove once Jacks hand went to your back, a reassuring movement on his part.

Once inside it was definitely a lot better without all the cameras flashing and there were plenty of familiar faces to talk to. When it came time to announce the winners of the awards you couldn’t help but look at Jack and when you heard his name get called you would have thought he had been prepared for this with the way he had calmly got up from his seat and leaned over to give you a quick kiss before heading on up.

During his speech you watched him with such pride of all the work he had done to get here. You also counted all the uhh’s he said just to tease him about later. “Uhh, yeah. So it’s great getting this award I mean I try to be as gentlemanly as possibly…with the exception of one time.” He smirked slightly as the crowd chuckled. With that the night came to an end and as much as you did end up having you were definitely happy to get home and into comfier clothes. As soon as you walked into the door your hand flew to your zipper and Jack went to help you “Let me be gentlemanly and help you out of this dress, huh?”

[kindainactive]

Suya may be short and flat, but her body is built like an adult because she is an adult. She mostly prefers wearing much comfier clothes because her office dress reminds her of her work and old life, but she does wear more mature clothes from time to time.

Speaking of work, if she's a minor, doesn't that mean Goodereste support child labor? But nope, she's a working adult who used to do overtime administrative duties in her own castle with her parents before she ended up being a captive princess in Demon Castle.

Please stop minor-coding adult characters just because they're short and got a more youthful-looking face.

[calithal]

cj wardrobe inspo.  ༄             okay, listen, i'm sorry this is so long but i have a lot of ideas and a hard time narrowing things down. the pictures are grouped in (top -> down) bottoms, tights, full body outfits 1, full body outfits 2, casual/comfy clothes (for cj, which means closer to deck wear), and tops.             as a general rule, especially with a lot of her littler and more revealing outfits, she's always wearing her red jacket and some kind of sheer/fishnet tights. for footwear, she typically wears black or brown boots, both flat and heeled, but she probably has a tendency towards heeled. please feel free to use your imagination i cannot fall down the punk boots rabbit hole on pinterest JHBCSJSBC. she's also wearing so much jewelry all the time, just all of it. she prefers silver but gold's fine too. she just likes shinies.             not including in this large picture collection is all of the clothes she steals from other people, typically people close to her, and that takes up a lot of her comfier options.

[stardewstardropthoughts]

Did you know that if you place a staircase into your pants slot in the inventory, that staircase turns into a pair of Lucky Trimmed Purple Shorts? So now I ask…would any of the bachelors or bachelorettes find this knowledge useful?

I love putting the lucky purple shorts in the louou soul and grunge displays lol These are just gonna be short little answers cause I’m tired today 😅

Abigale: she would absolutely just be chilling in them while she lounges around, comfy pjs basically

Penny: she mostly wears skirts so I don’t think she would find any particular use for them

Haley: absolutely not she much prefers her style of clothing and it would clash with her shirt

Maru: she probably wears them to bed mostly, prefers to be in proper clothes for her science work

Leah: wears them mostly when she has a day to herself and can spend time inside relaxing reading a book or having a drink

Emily: while I don’t think she would personally use it, she does think it’s good to know about

Harvey: he probably uses that trick on days where he has to go out and just keeps them under his pants as like a little luck charm

Sam: laundry day underwear/pants for sure, ya know when all your nice stuff needs to be cleaned lol

Sebastian: I could see him just lounging playing video games in them, says it helps him win

Elliott: much prefers his own pants so he doesn’t partake in wearing them, but thinks it’s a neat tid bit of information

Alex: in a pinch? Easy lifting shorts, but much prefers to use his actual gym shorts

Shane: he probably sleeps in them, makes life easier then having to find pj pants, also comfier

[soyafears]

Drifter in Sulani, Year 1 Look Book

Following her high school graduation, Touma finally got to scratch her itch to live in Sulani with Ramone — and they both know they're only looking for trouble.

Touma's used to dark and heavy clothing as she grew up in Komorebi but she's doing her best to try integrate and adjust to Sulani weather and customs.

She dislikes dresses and skirts, thus her formal and party clothes came from her late mom's unused and untouched closet. She would much prefer to be covered up in layers but Ramone has slowly convinced her to wear comfier and lighter clothes.

Her closet honestly kind of looks like a mess right now. She doesn't really know how long she'll want to stay in Sulani until she gets bored and dip. So the confusion and difficulties blending in is as clear as the beaches' waters.

[call-me-maggie13]

"When do I get my uniform?" Beatrice is arranging her crayons in the box by color, having already organized her notebooks and folders by color and put them away in her rucksack.

"We don’t have uniforms." Shannon balances a marker atop an eraser before catapulting it at Beatrice, it misses and thumps into the wall behind her head.

"Then what do we wear to class?" Beatrice hands the marker back to Shannon and waits for another failed attempt to launch it at her.

"I prefer to wear clothes, but I guess you could wear whatever." Shannon shrugs and sticks her tongue out when Beatrice rolls her eyes. "I usually wear shorts and a t-shirt but the baby school is always cold so you should probably wear pants and a sweater."

"The baby school?" Shannon flings the marker across the room, again, and misses, again.

"Yeah, the school for all the babies. You’ll be the top baby in your class." Beatrice holds the marker behind her, braces Shannon away from reaching it. "Okay fine, it’s what the older kids call the primary school. It’s where you’re going."

"You’re not going with me?" Beatrice drops her arm, Shannon snatches the marker from her before noticing the tiny wrinkle between her brows and the bow of her back.

Beatrice never slouches.

"No, I’m going to the junior high across the street." Beatrice’s head falls forward minutely, she pulls away when Shannon tries to throw her arm around her shoulders. "Hey, I’ll show you around and I’ll just be across the street if you need me. Okay?"

"I’m going alone?"

"No. You’ll never be alone, Bea. You’ll always have me. It doesn’t matter if I’m across the street or across the country, I’ll always be here if you need me."

"I don’t need you." Beatrice kicks her crayons away as she rushes from the room. Shannon watches her speed walk down the hall and slam her bedroom door. She sighs and fixes the crayons the way Beatrice had them arranged before, tucking the marker she’d been using as a projectile back into its box and shoving it into her bag.

They don’t speak about it for five days. It isn’t until the day before school starts that Beatrice approaches Shannon about it again.

"Would this be acceptable to wear tomorrow?" She holds up a pair of slacks, a button up, and a sweater. It might as well be a school uniform, but it’s not much different than what Beatrice wears every day.

"Yeah. I mean, you could wear something comfier but that will work too."

"Oh." Beatrice’s face falls and she bites her lip.

"Hey," Shannon flicks her ear. "It’s great. It’s totally you. I like it."

"Do - do you really?" Beatrice refuses to look at Shannon when she’s trying not to cry.

"I do. I like how you dress like an old man sometimes. It’s cute." Shannon bumps their shoulders and throws her arm over her shoulder.

"You promise?"

"Of course, bumble Bea. Why would I lie to my favorite person in the world?"

"I am?" Shannon nods, eyes bright and smile soft.

"Always have been, always will be, stupid." She ruffles Beatrice’s hair and Beatrice ducks away from the contact, playfully pushes Shannon’s hand away when she tries to repeat the action.

The next morning, Beatrice is practically buzzing with anxiety, her fingers and toes tapping until Shannon covers her wiggling hand with her own.

"Dude, imma need you to stop, you’re making me nervous." Martha frowns at Shannon from the other side of the kitchen island.

"Sorry." Beatrice pokes the eggs on her plate, she hasn’t eaten.

"You need to eat something, the oldest kids get lunch last," Martha offers a bowl of fresh fruit and Beatrice picks the leaves off a strawberry she has no intention of eating.

"Hey mom, did you get those cookies I like for my lunch today?"

"I did. Would you like me to put them in your lunch sack?" Shannon nods and Martha disappears. When the door closes behind her, Shannon spins, knees knocking into Beatrice’s thigh.

"Okay, so we’re gunna walk there and back together, yeah? I’ll drop you off at the flag post and we’ll meet there after, sound good?" She eats the strawberry from Beatrice while she’s talking then takes three quick bites from an apple that she drops in front of her, Beatrice frowns and tries to push it back to her. "No, leave it. Mom won’t let us leave until you eat."

Martha rejoins them, stares suspiciously at the half eaten apple in front of Beatrice, but she doesn’t say anything.

"We’re gunna head out, okay?" Martha nods and stacks their dishes, accepts a quick kiss on the cheek from Shannon before she’s gone.

"You remember my number, Beatrice?" Beatrice nods. "Okay, call if you need me to get you."

"Bea, let’s go before she convinces you to do homeschool." Shannon grabs her wrist and drags her into the foyer, tosses her rucksack into Beatrice’s chest, followed by her lunch bag before Beatrice even has a chance to settle her bag on her shoulders. Homeschooling doesn’t sound terrible.

Shannon chatters the entire five block walk to the schoolhouse. Various stories about her school friends and the teacher she’d had in Beatrice’s year. Mrs. Biles sounds very kind, she is certainly Shannon’s favorite.

"Okay so this is where we’ll meet," Shannon points to the empty flag post, "but I’m gunna go ahead and walk you to your class, what room is it?"

"411." Beatrice tries not to think about how there are at least four hundred and eleven rooms in the schoolhouse. Tries to not let it shoot her heart rate into the stratosphere.

"That’s Mrs. Biles’s class! Dude, you’re going to love her!" Shannon drags Beatrice through the double doors and into a crowded hallway.

It seems like every other person is greeting Shannon, a few offering high fives and shoulder pats. Everyone knows her. They must, because everyone smiles and waves at them, even if they don’t greet Shannon.

There are so many other children. Nearly a million. Probably. If not, it certainly feels like it.

"Hey!" Shannon just walks into the classroom. Like she owns it. Like she’s supposed to be here. Beatrice wishes she had that. She doesn’t know what it’s called, but she wishes she felt like she was supposed to be here.

"Little Miss Shannon. Aren’t you in the upper level this year? Don’t tell me you got held back. Was it for starting fires again?" The woman is young and bright, her skin dark like willow bark. Her hair is curly and long, bouncing when she spins to tease Shannon, her toothy smile crooked. Beatrice decides in this moment, she likes her.

Shannon giggles and rocks onto the balls of her feet, pulling Beatrice in front of her.

"This is Beatrice! She’s in your class!"

"Well hello, Beatrice. I’m Mrs. Biles but you can call me Mrs. B if you would like." She doesn’t do the friendly teacher thing where she kneels to be eye level with her. Beatrice has always felt it was patronizing when they would do it. She takes the hand offered to shake before pulling away and ducking behind Shannon.

"You can go ahead and find a seat. And you, little troublemaker," she grins when she turns back to Shannon, "should go before you’re late."

"Okay." She spins and takes Beatrice by the shoulders. "I’m just across the courtyard. And mom said she can pick you up early if you - "

"I’m okay." Beatrice isn’t certain if she is, however. Her stomach is twisting and her hands would be shaking if she hadn’t already clenched them into fists at her side.

"Okay but if you decide to do homeschool, I’m gunna do it too. So you’ll be stuck with no one but me and mom all day every day. Just remember that." She tries to wink but she hasn’t quite figured it out yet so it’s more of a half blink. "Flag post. Don’t forget."

"I won’t." Beatrice receives the quickest and tightest hug of her entire life before Shannon leaves.

She lingers next to the teacher’s desk. She isn’t certain where to sit, she’s never had a teacher that didn’t assign seats. It’s surprisingly overwhelming.

"Hey, new girl." Beatrice turns to the other girl, but she doesn’t respond. "Do you wanna sit next to me?"

She has kind blue eyes and a dimpled smile, she nods to the desk beside her and tilts her head.

What would Shannon do?

Shannon would sit with the girl. She would exchange names and phone numbers and birthdates and they would be best friends before lunch. Shannon would invite her over after school to do cartwheels in the backyard or something of that sort.

But Beatrice isn’t Shannon.

She’s still debating when a floppy haired boy tries to take the seat.

"Go away, Psalm. My friend is going to sit here." The girl sticks her tongue out at the boy who responds by sticking his own tongue out before continuing down the row, pausing three seats back to respond.

"I didn’t know you had friends, Aster. I thought your best friend was Rock or Bird or something."

Aster. Beatrice has never heard the name but she can’t imagine this girl with any other name.

"Oh shut up and go pray to your cult daddy about it." The remark earns a few snickers and Beatrice suddenly feels more out of her depth than she did before.

"He’s not a - "

"That’s enough, children. In this classroom, we aren’t going to talk to each other like that. Am I clear?" There’s a chorus of agreements and Mrs. Biles nudges Beatrice towards the seat. "Can everyone find a seat so we can muster? Afterwards, we’ll go over classroom rules and etiquette."

Beatrice is the only one still standing and, suddenly, the choice is made for her because the only available seat is the one Aster has offered. She takes it quietly, sinks into her seat when she feels everyone’s eyes following her.

She tries to fall back into the empty space in her head, tries to shut the curtain behind her eyes and sink into the backseat but she hears her name right as she’s nearly there. Except -

"Beatrice Masters?" Mrs. Biles is looking directly at her, waiting for some form of acknowledgement but that’s not - that’s not her name.

Masters. Beatrice Masters.

"I think that’s you," Aster leans across the aisle with a giggle.

"Beatrice?" Her heart is thundering in her head, skin hot and burning and too tight. "That is your name, is it not?"

Beatrice shakes her head and Mrs. Biles frowns and squints at the roster, leans over her desk to click on her computer for a moment before turning back to her with furrowed brows.

"Are you certain you’re in the right classroom, Beatrice?" Mrs. Biles must notice the rapid rise and fall of her chest so she motions her to come up to the desk. Waits until Beatrice stops in front of the desk to lean forward with a crooked smile to whisper. "These things happen sometimes, it’s not your fault. I’m going to send an email to the administration but you’re going to stay until I hear back, is that alright?"

Beatrice nods again and Mrs. Biles taps away at her keyboard before following up with one single question that makes Beatrice’s chest ache.

"Can I ask why you’re staying with the Masters?"

"Um…"

"She’s Shannon’s charity project!" It’s the same boy as before, floppy hair falling in his eyes.

"Psalm, shut up! No one cares what you have to say. Ever." Aster throws an eraser at him. It bounces off his forehead and he collects it from the floor, preparing to launch it back at her.

"Don’t you dare." Mrs. Biles is on her feet and rounding the desk before he has a chance to aim, hand outstretched waiting for him to drop it into her palm before collecting anything else she deems a projectile from Aster’s desk as well. "You will get these back either at the end of the day or when you prove you are no longer a danger to others."

"I’m not a danger to others, just that infernal skunk." Her remark makes Beatrice giggle, soft and twinkling like wind chimes.

Beatrice offers Aster a pencil when she retakes her seat and receives a smile that makes her chest ache. They don’t have an opportunity to speak the rest of the morning, Mrs. Biles lays out the rules and passes out introductory paperwork, an "about me" worksheet that she promises isn’t going to be presented to the class, and a blank page that she asks them to draw their families on.

She leaves hers blank.

She watches her neighbors draw instead. Aster has five siblings, three dogs, four cats, and a lot of fish, if her picture is accurate. The boy to her right has three dogs and a baby sibling. Behind her, a girl has six adults that live with her, and three little boys. She cranes her neck to peek at Psalm’s portrait, but she quickly loses count of the children in the picture.

She figures it fits, he seems like a child that has to scream to be seen.

Beatrice is some sort of crooked opposite. She doesn’t want to be seen. Not by her parents, at the very least. She wishes to disappear into the linoleum tiles and ugly, pea green wall paint. To melt into her hard, plastic seat until there’s no pulling them apart.

He catches her staring and covers his paper with his arm before sticking his tongue out and glaring at her.

Mrs. Biles collects the papers individually, inspects them quietly and offers compliments to each student she passes. She doesn’t insult Beatrice’s blank page, she pauses and looks it over intently before smiling softly and tucking it behind the rest of the stack.

Aster takes her hand and drags her to the back of the line when they’re lining up for lunch.

"Beatrice? Could you stay back a minute?" The rest of the class departs with the lunch monitor but Beatrice and Aster. "Aster, go with the class."

"Beatrice is part of the class." The way she says it, there’s no room for discussion. She’s in charge and she’s not going anywhere. Beatrice isn’t sure where this fierce defensiveness over her is coming from, but she doesn’t quite mind.

"Do you mind?" Beatrice shakes her head and Aster jumps onto the top of a desk beside the door, swings her legs and stares intensely at the multiplication table on the wall.

Mrs. Biles motions for Beatrice to follow her around the desk where she already has a document pulled up on the screen. Beatrice doesn’t recognize it, but she does see her name. Multiple times.

Except.

Masters, Beatrice C.

"So it does look like you were enrolled under the name Beatrice Masters. If you would like, I can call Martha during your lunch break and we can discuss changing it to whatever you’re used to?"

Beatrice isn’t certain. She’s not Beatrice Masters. That’s not the name she was given when she was born. It’s not the name she knows herself as.

But she wants to be. She thinks she wants to be.

"Tell you what, I’ll send you home with a letter for Martha and you and her can talk about it and she can let me know, yeah?" Beatrice nods and she turns to follow Aster out of the classroom. "Oh, and Beatrice?" When she turns she receives a shimmering smile. "Family is whoever you want it to be. It’s not just who you share blood with, it can have whoever you want your family to include."

Beatrice isn’t certain who she wants her family to be. She spends her lunch break and recess listening to her new friend rambling about so many topics Beatrice can’t keep track while worrying about who her family is.

She knows she wants to be a part of the family she’s been living with. They’ve felt more like home than her parents ever have.

But if she’s not her parents’ child, who is she?

When Mrs. Biles passes their pictures back out after lunch, Beatrice splits the page down the middle and draws both.

On one side, her mother and father flank her on either side, faces blank and clothes dark. When she looks back on this picture later in her life, she won’t know if it was an intentional decision or if that’s truly how she remembered her parents that day.

On the other, a stick figure Shannon grins beside her in a brightly colored dress. They’re sandwiched between Martha and Rich, all smiling beneath a shining sun. She even includes Jasper.

"Who’s that?" Aster leans across the aisle to point to her parents.

"My mother and father."

"Why don’t you live with them?" The girl behind her chirps, pushing upward to peer at the picture over Beatrice’s shoulder.

"I thought Shannon picked you up off the street," Psalm quips, dissolving into a quiet giggle. No one else laughs.

"Children, this is a solo assignment. We are not collaborating yet."

Beatrice wants to pull her hair out of its bun, wants to let it create a curtain between her and the rest of the class. She has one hour and twenty-seven minutes before the dismissal bell. One hour and forty-two minutes before Shannon will meet her at the flag post and they can walk back together.

But she will be right back here at eight o’clock tomorrow.

Mrs. Biles pats her shoulder when she passes to collect their pictures, stacking them neatly on her desk before stepping before the whiteboard and clasping her hands in front of her.

"We have one final activity before I will relinquish you for the rest of the day." They still have an hour left. Are they allowed to be released early? Surely not. "We are going to play a game. Two truths and a lie. Can anyone tell me the rules?" Beatrice has never heard of this game.

"Ooh ooh!" Aster bounces in her seat, nearly ripping her arm from the socket to raise hers the highest. Mrs. Biles selects her to explain the game. "So you have to say two true things and one not true thing about yourself and everyone has to guess what the lie is! I am exceptionally good at this game."

"Good job, Aster! Does anyone have any questions?" No one speaks. "Okay. I’m going to give you a few minutes to think about your statements then I’m going to go first and we’ll popcorn around until everyone’s had a turn."

Beatrice doesn’t like lying. It’s a sin. She can’t tell a lie about herself without needing repentance.

Her head hurts. Pressure building behind her eyes and ears ringing.

"What are yours?" Aster leans across the aisle, holds her own paper up for Beatrice to trade. If she’s disappointed Beatrice’s is blank, she doesn’t say anything.

1) I have a pet peacock named Dusty.

2) I have been to a concert at every Taylor Swift tour since I was born.

3) I was born in Australia.

Beatrice wonders what kind of life Aster has lived to have both of her truths be as unbelievable as her lie.

"Do you want help?" Beatrice shrugs. She doesn’t know how this is a school sanctioned activity. It doesn’t feel right for her to tell a lie, even if it’s for a game. "Okay. I got this."

Aster takes Beatrice’s paper and begins to write on it. She only pauses once, scrunching her nose and tip of her tongue poking out from between her teeth. When she returns it, it’s nearly completed.

1) I can speak __ languages.

2) I can play __ instruments.

3) My favorite book is ___.

Beatrice wrinkles her eyebrows and looks at her, confused.

"Just fill it in. Shannon said you’re like the Rosetta Stone. And that you like instruments. I assume you like to read, you have three books in your bag." Beatrice glances between Aster and her book bag. "I snoop. You should know that about me."

How? How was I supposed to know that about you? Beatrice wants to ask.

"Is everyone ready?" Mrs. Biles waits for confirmation from the majority of the class before continuing. "I have two dogs named Lilo and Stitch. I’ve never had McDonalds before. And I know how to juggle."

Beatrice glances around the room, sees no evidence of any Disney movies decorating the walls. If someone were to name their pet after a character, you would expect at least some visual evidence of their existence in their room. Never eating McDonalds feels unlikely too, but not improbable. Juggling however, just sounds intriguing. There’s no way to tell if someone can juggle just by appearance.

"Show of hands, who thinks Lilo and Stitch are the lie?" Beatrice nearly puts her hand up. Not a single other student raises their hand. "McDonalds?" Probably half the class raises their hands. "And juggling?" The rest raise their hands. Mrs. Biles raises an eyebrow at Beatrice but she doesn’t force an answer from her. "Well, you’re all wrong. While I do have two dogs, their names are not Lilo and Stitch, they are Abra and Cadabra."

"You can juggle?" Aster bounces in her seat.

"I can."

"You’ve never been to McDonalds?"

"Did your parents not love you?"

"I eat McDonalds a lot!"

Mrs. Biles chuckles and quiets the class.

"Moving on. Who wants to go first?" Psalm’s and Aster’s hands launch into the air, Mrs. Biles laughs. "Why don’t we start with you Psalm? You can go next, Aster."

"I have eight siblings. I have never been to the mountains. I have a cat named Noodles."

"You’re allergic to cats." Aster doesn’t even bother turning around to make the statement. "Your lie isn’t supposed to be obvious."

"It wouldn’t’ve been obvious if you weren’t such a stalker." Psalm snaps back, crumpling his paper and launching it at Aster’s head.

"Mister Psalm! That is completely inappropriate and unacceptable behavior for my classroom." Aster snickers and Mrs. Biles turns to address her. "Miss Aster, your actions are also reprehensible, you need not forget where you are, child. I assume I will have no choice but to separate you two if neither of you can learn to behave yourselves."

"What’s reprehensible mean?" Aster asks quietly.

"It’s an adjective that means morally wrong and deserving criticism. A synonym is deplorable." Beatrice answers easily, not realizing the entire class has turned to her.

"Wait, you’re British?"

"She’s not British, she’s a robot."

"Do you read the dictionary for fun?"

"Hey, android. What does deplorable mean?" A few students giggle and Beatrice starts to answer when Mrs. Biles closes the space between her and Psalm and tells him to follow her.

"Hey, Beatrice?" Aster leans into the aisle after Mrs. Biles and Psalm step into the hallway. Beatrice nods. "What does deplorable mean?"

"It’s another adjective that means very bad and unacceptable, often in a way that shocks people."

"How do you know that?" The girl behind her — who Beatrice had learned is named Maisie during lunch — asks. Beatrice doesn’t know if she’s going to make fun of her. She doesn’t know if she already is.

"I read the dictionary occasionally. I like words and definitions."

"What’s your favorite word?" Maisie looks at her the same way Jasper looks at her when Shannon tells him to sit. She doesn’t understand.

"Right now it’s nudnik. It’s a noun that means a person who is a bore or a nuisance. But my favorite word before that was hullabaloo. It’s another noun that means a lot of loud noise, especially made by people who are annoyed or excited about something."

Mrs. Biles returns alone. The class grows eerily quiet.

"Alright, moving on. Aster, are you ready?"

Beatrice finds the game to be a unique way to learn about her new classmates. It’s fairly interesting to see the kinds of things her peers lie about. Like Aurore, who says she has a pet wallaby but doesn’t think they’re related to kangaroos and Chaya who says he’s been to Buckingham Palace but doesn’t even know where it is.

And Aster, who does have a pet peacock but his name is Shimmer.

"Beatrice?" Beatrice flinches when the class turns to stare at her again. "You’re the only one who hasn’t gone."

I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go. Please please please -

"Can I read it for you?" Aster’s already grabbing the paper from her desk and clearing her throat to read it aloud before she’s even finished her question. "I can speak eight languages. I can play seven instruments. My favorite book is Swallowing Stones."

The class is pretty evenly divided between the languages and the instruments being the lie, a simmering chatter building while they discuss the likelihood that the book on her desk isn’t her favorite.

"So, which is it, Beatrice?" She truly does not want to answer. She doesn’t like how everyone is looking at her. Waiting for her.

"The book."

"The book? What languages do you speak?" Aster drops the paper and spins in her seat to completely face Beatrice, utterly entranced.

"English, Spanish, Mandarin, Latin, French, Portuguese, German, and Italian. I can only read and write English, Latin, and Mandarin, however." It’s clinical. No emotion. Beatrice suddenly understands why Psalm called her an android. She has no inflection.

"And instruments?" The boy in front of her has completely twisted around in his desk to ask.

"Piano, violin, cello, clarinet, flute, saxophone, and guitar."

Aster leans across the aisle to poke her cheek, Beatrice ducks away and frowns at her.

"Are you sure you’re real?" Beatrice doesn’t understand the question. Of course she is real. She’s sitting within arms reach of the other girl. What does she mean?

"Well, what is your favorite book, Beatrice?" Mrs. Biles captures their attention again and Beatrice doesn’t want to answer.

Luckily, the bell saves her, trilling and sending her peers racing to pack their materials away and rush out of the building. Aster waits for Beatrice to carefully replace her belongings into her bag, arranging her pencils so the tips all face the same direction in her pencil box. She also stacks her books by size before carefully ensuring they’re secured within her rucksack.

"What is your favorite book?" Aster asks softly when Beatrice finally stands, shifting her bag onto her back.

It gives her pause. The gentle curiosity.

She doesn’t know. She didn’t know she was allowed to have a favorite anything before this summer. Her favorites were whatever her mother told her they were. Jane Austen, tiramisu, lavender chamomile tea, the color purple, orchids.

She knows what her mother’s answer would be. She knows what her mother would tell her to say. The Bible. It’s the only correct answer.

But it’s not Beatrice’s answer. At least, she doesn’t want it to be. She doesn’t think so.

"I’m not certain. Would it be possible for me to consider it and get back to you?" Aster bites back a smile and forces a calm nod, Beatrice doesn’t notice.

"Good evening, Mrs. Biles." Beatrice pauses to shake the woman’s hand, a tender and practiced smile on her face.

"Good evening, Miss Beatrice. I hope to see you here again tomorrow." Mrs. Biles’s hand is firm around Beatrice’s, not squeezing or painful but strong and steady. She shakes it a single time before dismissing the pair for the evening.

The halls are empty, a blessing Beatrice had not thought she would receive on this terrifying day. Aster chatters beside her, hands shoved into the front pocket of her pullover as she meanders slowly through the building. Beatrice tries to pay attention to what she’s saying, truly. But she speaks so fast and she doesn’t like to look Beatrice in the face when she talks so Beatrice is having a very difficult time understanding her words.

She’s surprised to find Aster following her across the quad to the flag post, where she unceremoniously drops to the ground beside it, still speaking quickly and showing no sign of slowing any time soon.

Beatrice watches the front doors of the school across the way anxiously, chewing on her lip and rocking softly side to side.

"My baby sister does that." Aster mimics the rocking motion curiously. "Does it make you feel better?"

"No. I apologize for being distracting." Beatrice forces herself to still and shake her head. Aster tilts her head but doesn’t continue.

"They’re gunna come out the side door next to the big tree." Aster points to a large oak tree around the far side of the schoolhouse.

"Who?"

"Shannon and my sister. River told me they’re on that end this year." Aster rips a handful of grass from beneath her and flattens her palm to watch the breeze carry the blades and dirt away. Beatrice bites her lip again.

She doesn’t dare ask any more questions. She will make herself seem like an imbecile if she doesn’t stop responding to everything Aster says with a question.

It’s like her mother always told her: la curiosité est un vilain défaut.

She forces herself to slow her heartbeat, focus on the way her lungs rise and fall despite the bitter autumn air, empty her mind and slip back inside herself again.

It’s better to be a passenger in her own body than an imbecile.

"Hey!" Shannon nearly tackles her under the force of the hug, jostles Beatrice until she loses her footing and begins to slip only for Shannon to tighten around her to keep her steady. Shannon’s cheeks are flushed and her breathing is rushed and her excitement is palatable. "Sorry, how was it? I see you met Baby Blue."

Baby blue?

"My name is still Aster, Shannon." The smaller girl sticks her tongue out only for Shannon to swipe her palm down it and receive a shriek in response. It makes Beatrice’s stomach hurt.

"You met River’s sister."

"Oh. Yes. That is correct." Beatrice flinches when a boy laughs behind her.

"Oh yes, that is correct. Beep bop." The boy mocks, moving his arms like a stiff robot. "Are you actually an android? Weirdo."

"Psalm, do not make me beat you up again. You just got out of your last cast." Shannon steps around Beatrice, arms wide and chest puffed in an attempt to make herself look bigger.

"I can’t believe you got an android before me. And it looks so realistic, I almost didn’t realize it was fake. Nearly thought she was a real girl." He laughs and the small girl beside him frowns and furrows her eyebrows, staring at him confused.

"Psalm, what did Father say about picking fights with Shannon?" A taller boy claps his hand over Psalm’s shoulder and her classmate tries to shrug it off only for the boy to clamp his hand around it. "If you don’t learn to mind, I’m going to have to tell Father that you’re disrespecting and antagonizing girls again."

"Thanks, Zephaniah, but I can fight my own battles." Shannon steps closer to Psalm only for the taller boy to block her. He’s at least a torso taller than Shannon, probably twice her width and weight. He would destroy her if there were a physical altercation.

"Not this one, Masters. I don’t need any more little girls tainting my family name." His phrasing is weird, Beatrice realizes. Like his words have been rehearsed. There’s something in his eye that Beatrice doesn’t like. She can’t name it but it makes her chest tight so she tugs Shannon away.

"If you even think about talking to my sister again, I will kill you. No God will be able to protect you from me."

Sister?

Shannon sighs and takes Beatrice’s hand carefully, guiding her away from the boys and up the street towards her house.

"I guess he’s in your class too?" Beatrice doesn’t respond to Shannon’s question, but Aster does, nodding and immediately launching into a rant about the boy. She complains all the way to the final crosswalk, where River and Aster turn left while Beatrice and Shannon continue ahead.

"Are you okay?" Beatrice nods but still doesn’t speak. Her body hurts suddenly. And her head. She’s tired, also.

She’s so tired.

"I’m sorry about Psalm. He’s the worst in his whole family, if you could believe it. But he shouldn’t bother you anymore, if he does just tell me." Beatrice can picture Psalm’s brother’s fist in Shannon’s face. She shakes her head aggressively to rid herself of the image. She doesn’t want Shannon to fight for her.

She doesn’t want Shannon to get hurt because of her.

"Was the rest of the day good at least? Mrs. Biles is pretty awesome, she’s my favorite teacher. I’m really glad you’re in her class."

Martha is standing in the front yard waiting for them, smiling and waving and Beatrice’s heart sinks into her stomach.

She doesn’t want to do this anymore.

She’s not certain what this is. All she knows is she doesn’t want it anymore. She wants to go to bed. She doesn’t want to talk about her day or her classmates or her possible new friend or her definitive new enemy.

Martha doesn’t ask, thankfully. She offers them both a hug and follows them inside. Shannon drops her bag just inside the entryway and kicks it to the side before farting up the stairs, Martha sighs and collects the bag from the floor while Beatrice starts up the stairs behind her.

"Hey Beatrice, before you go, Mrs. Biles emailed me. We don’t have to talk about it right now, but whenever you’re ready, I’ll be down here." She nods down the hall and Beatrice hesitates with her hand on the banister. "You look tired, kiddo. Go take a nap, we can talk when you wake up, how about that?"

A nap? She’s not a toddler, she doesn’t need a nap.

Still, she nods and continues to her room silently. Shannon is already on her bed, sprawled on her back like a starfish across the duvet. She’s awake, but she doesn’t say anything. Not yet.

She waits until Beatrice steps out of her closet wearing a pullover and sweatpants. More specifically, Shannon’s favorite blue pullover with koi fish on the sleeves and white sweatpants. Beatrice had stolen it from Shannon’s closet more than a month ago, in between her arrival and her admitting to Martha and Rich that she might need more clothes than she’d brought with her.

Shannon wiggles an eyebrow at her but doesn’t comment on the outfit, flops over barely enough for Beatrice to have room to lay beside her.

Neither says anything, they lay in a simple silence until Beatrice is nearly certain Shannon is asleep. Just as the gentle lull of sleep starts to tug her under, Shannon rolls over to face her.

"Is it okay that I called you my sister?" Shannon is strong and Shannon is certain and Beatrice has no doubt that Shannon knows almost everything there is to know.

But right now, Shannon is quiet and scared and uncertain.

It’s unnerving.

"Do you want me to be your sister?" Beatrice doesn’t recognize her voice as herself, it sounds foreign and strange to be coming from herself.

"You kinda already are, right? I mean you live with me, doesn’t that mean you’re my sister?"

"I don’t know." Beatrice doesn’t like not having answers readily available to her. She already hates not knowing things, but not being able to find a seemingly simple answer to a seemingly simple question is infinitely worse.

Shannon doesn’t push for more from her. She doesn’t rephrase the query in that way that nearly makes it sound like a different question that she’s so fond of. She just watches Beatrice for another moment before rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling.

Her hand is millimeters from Beatrice’s but she doesn’t intwine their fingers. She doesn’t have to. Just being beside her is enough to slow Beatrice’s racing mind.

It’s dark when Beatrice wakes. Shannon’s gone, the blankets she'd been using are long grown cold beside Beatrice. She’s not certain why Shannon didn’t wake her. She’s especially unsure why Martha or Rich hadn’t woken her either.

She considers going back to sleep. She probably could, the exhaustion pressing heavy behind her eyes and sinking her deeper into her bed begging for her reunion.

But her stomach grumbles. Loud and angry and achy. And the hunger is stronger than the lingering sleepiness, pushing her out of the bed and down the stairs to the kitchen.

Martha is sat at the island flipping through a cookbook, the light above her head warming the room like a lantern on a cold dark night.

"I didn’t mean to sleep through supper, I’m sorry." Her words still have that sleepy drawl to them, making her sound like a babbling baby. She hates it.

"Oh you’re alright, sugar. Today was a lot, I expected you to be tired. Do you want some chicken alfredo?" Beatrice nods and rubs her eyes, trying to wipe the drowsiness away with her knuckles. Martha guides her to the seat she’d just been in, pauses to rub her shoulder before prattling about the kitchen reheating a bowl of pasta for Beatrice.

"Thank you." Beatrice has to bite back a yawn, flinching when something thumps above her head.

"It’s Shannon. She’s trying to do handstands."

"It doesn’t sound like she’s being particularly successful," Beatrice smiles at her over the steaming bowl. Martha laughs and strokes her hair.

She knows they have to talk about it. She knows Martha wants to talk about it. But she doesn’t want to. She’s not certain she wants to know.

"There’s the sleepyhead," Rich shoots a finger gun at her before pouring a glass of orange juice and sliding into the stool across from her. "Are you gunna be able to sleep tonight?"

Beatrice nods.

"So, do you want to talk about the email?" Beatrice drops her fork and glances anxiously between them. "You’re not in trouble, kiddo. I promise."

Another thump above their heads, the dishes in the cabinets clatter.

"We probably should’ve spoken to you before today about it, I’m sorry we blindsided you. But our district puts younger children with their siblings’ teachers. We wanted you to have someone we already knew, someone we already trusted. And Shannon loved Mrs. Biles’s class, so we figured that would help a bit with the nerves if you knew Shannon liked her." Martha looks like she wants to reach across the island and bundle Beatrice into her arms. But she doesn’t.

"We can talk to the administration tomorrow and get your name changed, if you would like, but it’s up to you." Rich does reach across the island to ruffle her hair, the contact makes Beatrice’s chest feel warm and gooey. "But it’s whatever you want to do. Whether you want our name or not, you’re still our girl, alrighty?"

Our girl.

"What does that mean?" Beatrice blinks and stares at the bowl in front of her, letting her hair block her face so they can’t see her tears.

"Which part? That you’re our girl?" Beatrice nods, she doesn’t trust herself to speak. Rich takes a steadying breath and moves beside her, crouches so he can catch her eye. "It means that we want you in our family, Beatrice. In whatever way you want to be. We love you, kiddo."

Beatrice stares at him wide eyes wet and red. He holds his arms out for her to crash into, thumping unsteadily into his chest. He holds her, crouched beside the kitchen island and rubbing circles in her back until she stops crying.

Beatrice isn’t certain when she started crying so much.

"Are you certain?" Rich squeezes her before loosening his grip to look her in the face again.

"Of course we’re certain. Nothing will change that." He wipes her tears away under his thumbs, smiling assuringly until she finally pulls away.

"I don’t think it is something I would like to change."

"Yeah?" Martha sounds so eager, desperately trying to fight back a wide smile.

"Yes. As long as it is acceptable to you." She nods finally before tacking on. "And Shannon."

"And Shannon what?" Shannon is panting as she pushes past Martha for a glass of water, cheeks flushed red and hair tousled wildly.

"Beatrice would like to go by Masters at school. She wants to make sure it’s alright with you." Shannon shrugs and wipes sweat from her face.

"I don’t care. Whatever you wanna do, dude." She says it steady, calm and nearly emotionless but there’s a shimmer in her face that tells Beatrice she’s excited by the prospect. "And before you ask, yes I am certain."

Her taunt makes Rich giggle, soft and warm and Beatrice wishes he would do it again.

That night, he lingers in her doorway after their tuck in. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just watches her wiggle in her bed until she finally gets comfortable before finally speaking.

"I love you, Beatrice."

Beatrice doesn’t know how to describe it. The way his voice sounds like a mixture of safety and adoration she’s never been given before. She’s not certain how to describe the way his words make her body feel warm and tingly, presses her chest out a little wider.

Find more here!

[kamurawaffles5684]

HELLO PEOPLE OF THE COMMONWEALTH!!! I BLESS YOU WITH…MORE LORE OF KAL! Trigger warning for sadism, electric chair usage, manipulation, torture, corrupt government officials, and like…one hell of a god complex.

This entails the Low Karma ending of her arc where she actually returns to the Enclave and becomes the next president. This is the og lore post for those who wanna read it. >:3 https://www.tumblr.com/kamurawaffles5684/761662039618945024/hello-people-of-the-commonwealth-i-bless-you

Authorz Note: this isn’t intended to be erotic but the way Kal does react could be considered that way. Kal is VERY sadistic in this Low Karma situation. It makes her feel like a god, almost. Essentially, she has a dominance/power complex.

Also if Stephen sees this…uhh hi there pookster. I am totally not going to collapse inward from sheer embarrassment not a chance not a single bit hehe

I’m so sorry ;0;

————————————————————————

[ JANUARY 17TH | 22XX]

PRESIDENT DUNHAM’S PERSONAL LOGS

ENCLAVE MEMBERS WITHOUT PROPER AUTHORIZATION TO VIEW THIS TERMINAL WILL BE DETAINED, STRIPPED OF ALL TITLES, AND CONDEMNED TO DEATH IF NEED BE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

————————————————————————

It was the fall of 2286. Kal had plans. Big plans. She was going to bring the Enclave back. And better than when President Eden was in power. She would create the best possible government to ever exist in this godforsaken commonwealth. But to do that, she needed answers… Answers from Nick Valentine. About the Institute. She knew that someone had reached out to him. Someone looking for their baby. And they told him how to get to the institute. But that was years ago. The person themselves had become a recluse. A myth. Kal knew it would be impossible to find that person, so she resorted to Nick. But just how would she investigate him? That was the “fun” part of this whole operation.

It was Midnight. Everything in Diamond City was closed down. Even Nick’s detective agency. But lucky for Kal, she knew how to break in. Quietly, she picked the lock with a hairpin she had used to keep her hair up, sliding inside. The dark room concealed her bulky form. With a bat in her hand, she knocked over something in his office, waiting for Nick to walk out.

Nick, walking out with his pistol drawn and his work attire askew and otherwise replaced with comfier clothes, looked around, his goldenrod yellow eyes piercing the darkness. “Ellie? You home, kiddo?” He called out into the darkness, walking towards where Kal was, his back turned towards her. Jumping out, Kal slammed the bat into the back of his metal head, making a small dent in the material, coolant spilling out of the cracks that held the faceplates on his head slightly in response to the hit. Knocked out cold, he crumpled to the ground, dropping his gun, his eyes flickering off. Kal had done it. The first part of her plan had been completed…

Hours Passed…it was daylight. Kal had dragged Nick to the remnants of the Atlantic Offices. She had picked up a few things from one of the old Medical Centers around the commonwealth to create a makeshift electric chair, the main electrical component being four defibrillators connected to a power box controlled by a dial, which thus controlled the amount of watts she could output at a time, the max power being about 1200 volts, each of the defibrillators going up to 3000 volts. As Nick awoke, he was tied to the chair, straining against the handcuffs she bound him to. “Ah, good. You’re awake…” Kal emerged from the darkness of the room, her power armor gleaming against the light, her helmet off. Her hulking form stood over him, holding the electrical box in her hands. “So, Nicholas…do you know why you’re here?” Kal’s voice rang out like a death bell.

“Kal…? Where the hell are we, kid? A-and why am I…” A small volt of electricity ran through his body, causing him to wince.

“Answer the question, Nick…” Kal prompted, her hand slipping from the power dial.

“I…I don’t know. What the hell are you planning? Some kinda interrogation?” Nick asked, voice slightly still pained.

“Exactly, Nicholas…” Kal chuckled…it was a deep, gentle, haughty, and yet all the while sinister chuckle. One that could easily either make someone feel hot and bothered, or in this situation, make their stomach drop and have bile rise to the back of their throat. “I am here to interrogate you…now…tell me…Where is the Institute.”

“What are you talking about…? I don’t know where that is and you—!” Nick would get cut off by another shock, straining against the chair.

“Oh but you do, Nicholas. I know you do…and if you keep lying to me, this little dial I have will keep shocking you…over…and over…and over…until you say the truth…so if I were you…I would start spilling the truth right about now before your internal circuits and hardware to fry to beyond their repair…and the more you keep lying…the higher I’ll set the voltage…this is currently 80 volts…just a small shock for you…but deadly to people…now…I won’t ask again…Where. Is. The. Institute?” Kal held the power box in her hands still, lightly touching the dial, as if she was caressing it. Her smile was sinister as she looked down at Nick, her XO2 power armor moving as she shifted her weight slightly, as if she was having fun with the idea of torturing Nick for answers.

“I-I don’t know…I don’t know, Kal!” Another volt of electricity. It left Nick panting, his fingers and feet twitching involuntarily, his head bowed and his eyes dimmer than before.

“That was 100 volts, Nicholas…keep lying…and there will be more than just that…” Kal said coolly, circling Nick like a vulture would circle its prey.

“…I told you…I told you I don’t know!” Another shock. This time leaving him groaning, almost screaming in pain, his limbs trying to fail about against the handcuffs.

“120 volts…are you sure you don’t know…? Because a little birdie told me something completely different…” Kal was completely enjoying this…it was almost like she was overjoyed and pleased to hear Nick struggle…to hear him try and keep face while he got electrocuted.

“No…I’m sure…I’m sure—“ Nick was cut off by another shock.

“140 volts…” Kal sang, a smile plastered on her face.

“I’m…telling the truth, Kal! Please…stop this, kid! You’re crazy!”

Kal’s anger seeped into the way she shocked Nick the next time…instead of it being 160 volts this time around, it was 200 volts. “Mm…200 volts…and I am not crazy, Nicholas…oh no…you’re the one who’s crazy…lying to me…the one who’s in power…the one who could easily end your life…right here…right now…just by the turn of a dial…now…are you going to behave, or will I need to keep shocking you until you bleed so much coolant that your circuits catch on fire the next time you try to lie?” Kal leaned in close to Nick, grabbing his chin with her hand…the metal of her power armor was freezing cold. Her grip was as strong as a boa’s grasp. It make Nick’s artificial skin crawl.

“I won’t tell you…tell you anything…!” Nick gritted his teeth as Kal held his chin. Her hand slinked away. He braced for another shock. He threw his head back as it hit him, yelling out in pain. His limbs moved without his permission, splaying out and flailing as best as they could as they were tied to the chair.

“300 volts…Nicky.” Kal taunted, laughing as he yelled. She nearly oozed pleasure at the sight of his pain. This was fun for her…a game, to be exact. She clicked the dial back, making the electrical shocks stop.

“No…no I can’t..i would betray them…” another shock. A scream. A laugh of pure, sadistic joy.

“That’s 400 volts…and…who would you betray…?” Kal prompted, smiling.

“Nobody who’s important…” another shock. Nick could feel his synthetic veins scream in pain…Kal nearly fell over laughing from the agony Nick was in.

“500 volts…who is it, Nick…tick tock…”

Another lie, another shock…600 volts…700 volts…800 volts…900 volts…1000 volts…Nick was screaming in pain by now, his hands gripping the chair and his entire body heaving in agony.

“Ok…ok fine I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!…just…just please…please stop…stop…I’ll tell you…I’ll tell you where it is…” Nick pleaded, coolant dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Good…you’re complying after all that time…what a waste of a good fusion core…” Kal turned the dial down, switching the mechanism off completely.

“It…it was a client who told me…someone who wanted to find their son…they…they found out through Virgil…a-an old Institute Scientist..and then told me…just in case if I ever wanted to go back…” Nick said breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut from the smaller waves of pain the electric shocks gave him. “You…you can find the mechanism at the old Mass Fusion building…top floor…”

“Anything else, Nicholas…? Y’know…you’ve been a valuable asset to my cause…I should use that to my advantage…now…tell me…just how much circuitry do you have inside of you…and don’t lie this time…you know what happens when you lie…” Kal chided, circling him again, leaning his body forward to access the panel on his back.

“Why…why should I tell you? For all you know…I could be rigged to explode with one of those wires…” Nick shot back, trying to keep his sarcastic tone from showing his genuine fear of what was to come.

“I know you’re not rigged to explode, Nicholas…so don’t try and play the jokester with me…it won’t end well for you…” Kal hummed, opening the panel on Nick’s back.

“What are you doing…” Nick froze as he felt Kal’s slender fingers run across the wires and components inside him, feeling that her power armor’s gloves were off by how nimble and small her fingers seemed. “No…stop…stop it…I won’t let you reprogram me…”

“Oh…but you will…you have no power here, Nicholas.” Kal chuckled again, finding the right wire to disconnect his internals so she could reprogram him.

“No…no stop! Kal please don’t do this…don’t do this to me…I-i have a life now! What would Ellie do if I was gone…? What would you do?” Nick panicked, feeling the slight tug of Kal beginning to unplug his systems.

“…Ellie is obsolete…and as for me…I have plans…very…big plans…” Kal pulled the wire.

“No—!” Nick cried out as he went offline, slumping against the chair, lifeless. He sat there, eyes open in fear and his mouth slightly parted. Gone.

————————————————————————

[artheresy]

Part Two (Stellaron Hunters)

Like the last one with the Astral Express, I am listing my opinions on aspects of the HSR designs, including things I kinda dislike or at least would change about certain playable designs in HSR to help myself with planning some of my own designs/redesigns for future art!

And I am so excited to get onto three of my favorite designs in this game!! The Stellaron Hunters are my babies and I originally was going to include them in the AE part 1 post, but sadly exceeded some kind of limit on the post while rambling about both of the groups designs, so they get their own post! And y'know what if that gives me more room to talk about them, I am not upset!

Ofc, Disclaimer: I am not a professional character designer, I'm not saying any of my ideas for them are objectively better or improvements even, nor am I bashing any of these designs. This is just my opinion and I like most if not all of the playable designs at the moment! I just have a few thoughts regarding them.

The List part 2:

Silver Wolf: I really like her design, I think honestly the Stellaron Hunters (at least for the trio, still forming my thoughts on Sam's) are easily some of the best designed characters in HSR so far. I do think out of those three designs though, Silver Wolf might be the weakest? Not that it's bad ofc, as I just said I think they're some of the best designs, but alongside Kafka and Blade, it feels like there's more that could be done with her design. They went ham on having so many like "Haha look she's a gamer!" details on her outfit that it ends up a bit eye rolling when you keep seeing all the details. The buttons hanging from her belt, the controller garter, the pattern on the fabric hanging from her hip for no reason, the power button logos on her her belt in multiple places and the strap that hold her knife, and that's not even all of them. It's just a bit much. Yes, she's a gamer, we get that. It doesn't need to be sprinkled throughout her design this much, at least not in this way. Because the way they did it, admittedly looks a bit gimmicky since it's only visual details rather than anything more is the best way I can describe it. I would maybe give her a few more items in place of all of these little things. Give her a visible earpiece, or some other kind of hands off communication device. Give her more devices if you're gonna have her adorned with all these straps, make them useful. Though I have two (maybe three?) other bigger ideas that could either work for changing her up physically, either separately or somehow together in a design. I'm stuck between the idea of giving her comfier clothes, both to reflect her more laid back personality and also to fit more so with what she does, or giving her more of a tech wear influence in her design, especially considering PunkLorde is meant to be a cyberpunk themed place. I feel like there's a better way to reflect that influence in her design. Also I dunno about you, but when I think cyberpunk I think of Neons a bit. I’m not saying turn her whole color palette that, but I think in a few of the patterns or in little details adding tiny touches of neon would look cool and help make her pop out a bit. (Sorry this ended up rambling, when I actually draw my thoughts for her, it will come through cleaner and clearer. Overall, I really like her design still even if there's a lot of details I would preferably change.)

Kafka: Kafka is one of my favorite designs, I adore her, I adore the spider, the web, and even the butterfly motifs present in her design. Her color scheme has a sense of allure to it if that makes sense, well balanced throughout her from head to toe. If I were to change something, it would be to make her design more show-y, a little more over the top. As it stands, Himeko has a more ostentatious design than her. Which feels off to me. "Oh but she's going on missions, taking people out, and collecting Stellarons. Her practical design makes sense." Very true, but also these missions aren't merely just missions. They are performances, displays of acting according to Elio's scripts in order to obtain the results he needs for the future. Kafka, of the rest of the Stellaron Hunters we've seen so far, seems to be the one that best fits into the role of Elio's dramatic villain/anti-hero. I mean just compare her presence in the Luofu quest to like Blade also in the Luofu quests, or Sam in the Penacony ones. There is a difference in dramatics and performance. She beckons the audience's (and law enforcement's) eyes towards her, as she strings them along with her schemes and plans. She is made to be the one in the lime light, delivering monologues and putting on the best show for everybody. When we look at the few missions of the Stellaron Hunters we’ve seen so far, Kafka does fit the bill as the star of his show, his leading actor in the role of the antagonist. As such, I think Kafka could benefit from making her outfit a bit more dramatic, leaning into the role she plays even further. Especially when thinking about how playing up that dramatized version of herself would work with the facade she's hinted at putting up. I do adore it the way it is, I just think more could be done with it. Lean a bit harder in, and by nature of making her more over the top, that could lead to the potential for a more interesting silhouette depending on how it's handled. Maybe even some more elements to influence like making it more over the top could be inspired from the Kafka Stigmata in HI3rd

Blade: I can’t lie to y’all. I think his design is close to perfection. I think it’s so well done (even though the silhouette could use some work? Depending?), it’s absolutely packed with symbolism. However, aside from just some silhouette adjustments, something I would change is the emphasis of how injured he is. The injuries he feels every single day of his life, that can’t heal because of Jingliu essentially overriding the default state his body is trying to restore. It’s a big thing in his lore, so much so that it’s been mentioned multiple times including in a main companion quest and literally up front show to us face to face. That cg of him with the sword in his chest feels like somebody stuck a sword in mine every time I see it, I swear. But design wise, I feel like this point about him and his history doesn’t shine through as well, and it feels like the gravity of that time isn’t properly portrayed in his design. Like let me emphasize, Bailu’s words might suggest that the default state for some of his injuries is literally open and bleeding so... And you might think “Oh that’s funny, when he’s literally covered in bandages like his arm and chest.” Well, I’ll one up you by clarifying if you look up his jacket as he runs, you’ll see his model has bandages ALL the way down his torso!! But the thing is, this is covered by his jacket. We only see his hand bandaged and a little peek at his chest, but his face? Completely fine. The rest of his body? Perfectly covered not showing anything. If I could change his design just a bit, first off, I’m making his coat more tattered and broken. Yes he gets his coat replaced at times, but that doesn’t mean we need to always see it in pristine condition. He’s a fighter, making his coat have tears in it, leave the edges worn down, more fabric than just his red ribbons to be frayed at the ends. In those tears of his clothes, either show bandages (left up to you whether to be seen as fresh injuries covered waiting to heal or more wrapped remnants of Jingliu’s slashes) or scars on every single bit of skin that manages to peek out from that coat. And for some flavor, add some scars to his face however big or small. There’s no way I can believe Jingliu killed him hundreds of times and didn’t at least once go for a head shot. I bet that woman knows the extent of his healing like the back of her hand, I bet she could answer my question about how exactly Blade’s body would heal if his limbs were severed. If he has some part of himself not covered, it should have evidence that he was harmed there! Never let us forget that part of his lore! NEVER!!

(I promise I’m totally not insane about him, what ever could lead you to that conclusion?)

I want to say, I will eventually update this once we have more Sam lore, perhaps I’ll include Sam with the Penacony characters post to make it easier or I’ll just redo the Stellaron Hunters post and revise and revisit my ideas for these three! As it stands, I want to wait until we have more Sam lore and more things cleared up about them before I jump into talking about the armor design or things I know from leaks until it’s been confirmed or disproven so I can give better my thoughts about the design in relation to the character!! Please stay tuned, I can’t decide if I should go for Overworld Belobog first because I have more clear ideas (including a rant about one specific character) or if it’s best to go to Herta Space Station first in order to just go in order essentially. Who knows ! Well! I hole you enjoyed this, I adore the Stellaron Hunters and any time I am able to talk about them I am very happy :D

[seaprofound]

reasons why po should be given a makeover /silly

at first glance, you wouldn't ever suspect of po being royalty or even a woman of wealth.

po doesn’t own anything designer—though if she had to pick a designer, she’d probably go with vivienne westwood—preferring, instead, to shop secondhand and from thrift stores. ( she doesn't call this shopping so much as she calls it treasure hunting. ) when it comes to fashion, there's nothing that po loves more than breathing new life into an old piece of clothing and making it her own. she's very artsy, so there's scarcely an item in her wardrobe that hasn't been personalized in some way. on top of that, she's been known to make her own clothing.

po is also a bit fluid in her gender expression.

girlypop is not above shopping from the men’s department from time to time because men’s clothing typically have comfier fits than women’s clothing does. the items that she's bought from the men's department are so big on her, you'd think she stole them from her boyfriend or something—which is just the way she likes it. po feels more at home in an oversized fit than any other type of fit because it helps her channel her inner hermit crab.

( handy way to just. disappear. when she just. cannot. socially tbh. )

makeup-wise, po keeps it simple: none.

at the most, she'll do a smudged eyeliner. now, this is not to say that po looks down on those who wear makeup daily. she thinks that makeup is beautiful from an artistry stand-point—but doesn't see much of a point in wearing it outside of that context. if po had the choice, she would much rather put makeup on others than on herself because she prefers to be the artist rather than the canvas.

[artzary]

hi it’s the tiny marie anon again… if it’s not too much to ask, could you share some headcannons about squid sisters (cg callie especially please)

Finally getting around to this ask since I got a huge spike of motivation in the middle of the night!!

Big Sister CG Callie

Lots of cuddles!!

Mainly cares for Marie and Captain 3

unless it's cold out, she usually takes her littles outside to the park or on other fun adventures!

She has one of those giant clear tubs full of just toys!!

surprisingly very organized when taking care of kiddos, mostly about picking up their toys and after they have snacks

bubble baths every time!! (Unless requested otherwise :))

pillow forts for LIIFEEEE!!!

Regressor Marie

Very quiet, quieter than usual when little

age range is around 1-4

if not with callie during the slip, she'll actively search for her

love being read to! especially fairytales and folklore

prefers baggier and comfier clothing

usually has a pacifier / chewlery in her mouth

can't really handle loud noises

Another rquest done!! yippiee!! :D ty for the request, squid sisters anon :)

[yeehawbvby]

I love you. | Ch. 1

(Piers x OC Maxine)

Rating: Teen+

Summary: "Unabashedly, he said the next part out loud. 'I love you.'

...He was being silly, right?

He was just fooling around because he was drunk and wanted affection. 

Right?

Right."

Author’s Note: This wasn’t supposed to be as angsty as it is, but here we are!! ٩( ᐛ )و

I wrote most of this while I was half asleep. I’ll make edits at some point if I need to.

Hope y’all enjoy x

Check it out on ao3!

Next

Max was enjoying having the apartment to herself for a change.

More often than not, at least one of her two roommates were home with her - whether it be Piers, because their shifts and/or plans matched up, or Marnie, because she didn’t have to see her tutor or go out for a playdate or whatever. To be alone with nothing to worry about other than her pokemon and herself was bliss for such an introvert.

She had spent the past three hours sprawled across the sofa in the apartment’s main room. She was swapping back and forth between playing a game on her old DS and grinding an otome on her phone. Her hair was styled into low pigtails and draped over the side of the sofa so that they would stay out of the way, and she had on her ideal sleepwear for warm nights like this: a lightweight tank top and soft cotton shorts. She’d prefer to be in bigger clothes that she could curl up and hide in, but she and Piers were trying to cut back on bills, which meant no aircon for a bit.

Before situating herself on the couch, she used a face mask that she’d been saving for a time like this. A night where she could really relax and let it do its thing with her skin. Before that, she had treated herself to some takeout from her favorite Alolan joint. 

This was the comfiest Max had been in ages. Sure, she’d be physically comfier in her bed, but it was nice to be cozy outside of that room for a change. To be alone in a room she’s never truly alone in, especially after having tidied it up throughout the day…

Until the door flung open, a drunken Piers stumbling through.

Ough.

It’s not that she didn’t want to see him. She was always glad to have him around — if she can’t be alone, but she wants to be alone, he’s the one person she’d happily grant a free pass to interrupt that alone time.

Max sighed, sitting herself up to observe the man. His hair, previously contained in a neat, high ponytail, was now loosely hanging closer to his nape. His fringe, damp from the summer humidity, molded itself into the rest of his hair, revealing his full complexion. His bold eyebrows and bright eyes being on full display rather than half-obscured was a rare treat.

Cute… she thought.

Her gaze lowered as Piers undid the first few buttons on his short-sleeved, black and red, paisley patterned button-up, creating a v-shaped window of porcelain skin that ended just below his chest.

Oh. 

She felt her cheeks grow warm as she tapped her thumb to her pointer — Krabby hands, she and Piers called it — to stim away her less innocent thoughts.

Piers was softly humming a tune as he then struggled to balance while he untied his combat boots’ laces. He left the door open — just as Max noticed, though, so did Piers. He bumped it shut with his hip before plopping to the ground in front of it and continuing his battle with his shoes.

He was completely unaware of Max’s curious stare as he worked. His head was empty aside from thoughts of how glad he was to be home from that Yell gathering, how sweaty he felt, and how much he wanted to see Max.

He was a happy and sappy drunk at times. He couldn’t help it, nor did he care enough to try to stop it. Right now he just knew he needed to be near her.

Finally ripping his boots off, he breathed deeply and tossed them aside. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, nearly drifting off for a moment. Focusing on how much everything was spinning, and how sleepy he felt. 

Maybe a quick nap before I go find her…

The creak of the floorboards grabbed his attention. He opened his eyes and a big, dopey grin spread across his face as Max strolled over. 

“Max!”

Oh my god. “Hello!” she offered back through a yawn into her elbow, slightly impeded by some laughter. She jumped right to business. “You drink any water while you were out?”

“Nah.”

“I’ll get you some.” Hands raised over her head as she stretched, she detoured to the left towards the kitchen.

Come back… “I don’ need it,” Piers insisted.

“You don’t need a hangover either.”

Yeah but this is encroaching on my time with you come baaack— 

His thoughts wound up translating to, “But,” he pauses to sigh, “Maaaax.”

“What?!” 

Piers grinned at the hint of a smile in Max’s voice. “C’meeere.”

“After I get your water, sure.”

Piers groaned, giving up. He shut his eyes again and rubbed at their inner corners, and in his daze, he hadn’t even heard Max come back. She crouched down at his side, a glass of water in one hand, a spoon and a packet of flavored electrolyte mix in the other.

“Here.” Piers opened his eyes again, and Max continued, “I brought this too,” she flapped around the mix a bit, “just in case you want it.”

Lazily peering back and forth between the objects in Max’s hands and Max’s face, he just quietly hummed an acknowledgement. After a few moments, Max grinned, confused as to what Piers wanted, but amused by his demeanor. He was blissfully unaware, now intent on memorizing the exact curvature of Max’s smile.

Flushing at how intensely he was staring, Max nervously laughed and tried to snap him out of it. “Piers!” 

“Max!” he beamed.

She huffed out another laugh and averted her view. Then she sat cross legged and began fixing up the drink for him. If he wasn’t going to make the decision, she would.

“So, how was it?” she asked, trying to divert Piers’ attention away from her.

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Too many people.”

Subtly nodding, Max acknowledged, “Yell’s a big crowd. But I’m sure at least some of it was fun, yeah?”

Piers hummed and nodded his answer. 

Removing a full spoon from the glass, Max put it in her mouth, testing to make sure there wasn’t too much or too little water. Piers’ eyes were glued to her lips for the short moment they were wrapped around the utensil, then on her throat, watching it bob as she swallowed. They both looked so nice… so soft…

Before Piers could say any of his thoughts out loud, Max curtly nodded and handed him the drink. He got stuck on her big and expectant eyes for a moment before snapping out of it, taking the cup from her. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. 

He took a sip as Max stood, walking away to discard the spoon and empty packet. He didn’t realize how dehydrated he’d become. Proceeded to chug down the rest before Max came back. 

Upon seeing this, she laughed, “Damn. Want some more?”

He shook his head. Max took the cup back to the kitchen and returned again feeling as prepared as she could be to haul Piers to his room. He looked exhausted.

“Can you stand?” she asked as she crouched down again.

Piers fixated on her face again, ignoring her question. 

Stop looking at me like that oh my god— “Piers!”

Max leaned closer and clasped Piers’ face in each of her hands. She was trying to be stern, but her rosy grin made the action come off playful instead.

It didn’t help her case at all.

Piers blinked and looked like he was normal again for, like, a second, before he grew lost in his studies again. He placed his hands atop Max’s, totally engulfing them. Her face was burning hot as she looked down at her knees, taking a deep breath before looking at her friend again.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Piers cut her off, shifting his palms to her cheeks. “Can I kiss you?”

Max’s eyes widened. She froze up, gnawing her lower lip as she tried to figure out what to say. “Um…” Her eyes instinctively drifted to his lips, but she was able to save herself. “N-no,” she rejected, tearing her gaze back up to meet his, “You need to, uh, lie down. Or something.”

“Then can I kiss you?”

“Oh, Arc’s sake,” she breathed, looking down again and shutting her eyes, her hands relocating to cover her face.

On one hand, it’s not like it would be a bad thing. They’d already discussed their rules or whatever. They could kiss freely. No strings attached, or whatever they told themselves. 

On the other, she didn’t want him to think she was taking advantage of him when he sobered up. It’s not like they’d do anything more than kiss, and she wouldn’t dream of doing anything sleazy, but her mind flooded with self-destructive thoughts about how she would seem like a creep, and how he might think she was going to try more than that, and what if she did do something creepy by accident, and— 

“Please?”

Max, dumbfounded by how sweetly Piers had said that one word, looked at him again. He looked so relaxed, so happy. So hopeful. She could feel her heart melting in her chest.

Oh my god.  

She sighed. 

…It couldn’t hurt, right?

“We’ll see,” she concluded.

She knew he trusted her. She knew a kiss wouldn’t break that trust. She needed to chill before she spiraled herself into a panic attack or something.

She removed Piers’ hands from her face and stood up, still holding them. “C’mon,” she prompted. 

She gave Piers a little tug and gestured her head towards the hallway where the bedrooms and bathroom branched out of. He complied, begrudgingly picking himself up with a little help from Max. He lost balance as he straightened, causing Max to clasp his shoulders in an attempt to keep him upright.

“Careful,” she muttered. 

Piers was speechless as she took care to make sure he was okay. 

She’s so nice… 

Feeling like a giant compared to Max as he towered over her, and forgetting how light he actually was, he was cautious to not put too much weight on her. She could handle all of it with some effort, but in the moment he was none the wiser. 

As they crossed the room and entered the hall, Max nodded to the bathroom. “You wanna brush your teeth and stuff?”

“Am I stinky?”

Max stifled a laugh. She knew he was being goofy, but he did a damn good job pretending like he was worried about it. “Pfft. No, but—“

“I’m good then.”

“But your teeth—“

“C’mon.” 

“Huh?”

Piers was now the one tugging Max along. He just wanted to lay down with her. To hold her. Maybe get a smooch out of it. Or two. Or more. It’s not like he would limit her. He’d do anything for her. He’d do anything with her. 

God, he loved her so much. 

Flopping onto the bed, Piers pulled Max down with him. She landed face-first on his upper tummy. Her laughter reverberated through it, tickling him a little. Made him giggle.

“Careful, dude!” she lightly scolded through her residual laughter. She fixed her hair out of the way and laid down on her side next to him, propped up on an elbow. 

She was desperately trying to ignore how fondly Piers was staring up at her. Her heart was fluttering madly while her stomach flipped below it. 

Focus.

She wanted to make sure Piers was safe and comfy and not gonna, like, throw up and die, or something. He usually held his drinks well enough, unlike her, but she could never be too careful. 

“You’re not gonna put on pyjamas?” she asked while fixing some loose hair out of Piers’ eyes. 

“Not yet.”

Max was about to protest before Piers cut off her train of thought. He took her hand off his face and smoothly flipped over, now hovering above Max and pinning her hand to the pillow.

Max couldn’t help the gasp that came out of her mouth. She looked up at him, wide-eyed at how sudden that was. How hot it was. 

…But also at how pretty he was. At how perfect he looked with his barely-contained ponytail now draping over his shoulder, threatening to tickle her own. How cozy she felt watching him just as fondly as he had watched her moments before. 

Her free hand moved on its own, reaching up to Piers’ cheek. Beckoning him closer. Wanting to be as close as she could to him. Piers leaned into it, smiling so contentedly just barely above her face. He felt calm in spite of his racing thoughts:

You’re beautiful. I love you. I want you. I love you. I need to kiss you. I— 

Unabashedly, he said the next part out loud. “I love you.”

All the air left Max’s lungs as she stared at him, dumbfounded. “Wh— huh?!”  

Piers repeated himself.

Max took a second to buffer. 

He was being silly, right?

He was just fooling around because he was drunk and wanted affection. 

Right?

Right.

She could say it back, like she wanted to, or she could deny it entirely…

She chose the latter. It was easier that way.

“Don’t— don’t say that.”

He looked so sad as he questioned her. It made Max feel mean. Was she being mean? “Why not?”

She frowned. “Because you don’t mean it,” she assured herself more than him, “You’re drunk, you’re just saying things at this point.”

“I mean it,” he practically whined. At least he had his smile back. Now he thought she was being silly. “I lo—“

Kind of bummed, very confused, and not wanting to have this kind of discussion while Piers was intoxicated, she quickly cut him off, “Um, y-you can kiss me now, if you want.”

It worked. In his own weird, barely cognizant way, Piers thought that was her way of saying it back.

He leaned in some more, his pretty smile widening and small crows feet forming on the outer edge of his sleepy, piercing, beautiful cyan eyes. 

Max was smitten.

It was okay if he didn’t really mean what he said. She could settle for just pretending that he did. 

“Yeah?” Piers whispered, his mouth nearly touching hers. It came out husky, stealing Max’s breath away again.

Max’s nerves were on fire as she nodded, leaning up to close the gap.

It had been a while since they last found themselves like this. They both constantly craved it, wanting nothing more than to just lose themselves in the other’s touch. They felt both at home and invigorated by it. Max’s internal conflicts melted away as she cupped Piers’ nape to encourage him to sink into her lips, his hand tightening around hers in tandem. 

It was funny, Max thought, how haphazard Piers’ drunken kisses were. They were feverish, yet gentle; his lips lingered on hers with the tenderness of a lover, but pressed into them with the fervor of a one-time fling. 

He silently worshiped her, releasing her hand in favor of running his thumb along the bottom edge of her bottom lip, and then her cheek, holding the side of her face in a weak attempt to pull her closer than she already was. Desperately clinging onto each breath she made against his mouth as if it was her last. Savoring how her tongue softly flicked at his own, then twirled around it. Priding himself in the Gooserene bumps that sprouted on her neck while his fingers trailed across its side, and the audible inhale she took through her nose when he slotted himself between her thighs, pushing her left leg outward with his right knee.

He was still drunk, without a doubt, but this was the clearest he’d felt since coming home.

Max’s newly clouded head juxtaposed him, though. She felt like she was losing herself; incorporeal beneath his weight, all that existed was him. All that mattered was him. The alcohol she tasted on his tongue seemed to seep into her own system, and the soft hair she ran her fingers through was a sleeper agent, coaxing her to another realm of existence — a dream world where time stopped everywhere except Piers’ room, on Piers’ bed. 

The only thing that snapped her back to the present was his lips leaving hers, trailing next to her chin, across her jaw, and finally onto her neck. She couldn’t stop the quiet whimpers that she let out as he left an open mouthed kiss, then a little nip, right at her sweet spot; and he hummed almost instinctively in response to those sounds, the soft vibration sending a chill straight to her—

Good god, she needed to stop him.

“P-Piers,” she whispered. 

It came out breathier than she’d intended it to. Still dazed, he interpreted her tone as a sign to keep going, sucking softly at her skin. 

Shit shit shit—

Her fight or flight kicked in, and in her panic, she accidentally shouted her next attempt. “Oi!” She punctuated the word by cupping his face and pushing him back, shrinking in on herself to create some extra distance. 

He looked shocked, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he scanned Max’s worried expression. 

Did I do something wrong?  

“What? What’s up?”

“Um…” Max froze. “You, um…”

Shit, Max, say something. Anything.

She let out a defeated sigh, avoiding looking Piers in the face, and her mouth twitching while she tried to form words that wouldn’t come out. 

Oh no.

The room was spinning, her heart was racing, and on top of that, she couldn’t speak. Tears started to well in her eyes. 

Why was this happening? What the fuck happened? Why was she panicking?

She wanted this. 

She wanted him. 

…But their agreement.

She loved him. 

She loved him.

She thought about what he had said earlier: “ I love you. I mean it.”

What if I had said it back? she asked herself.

Why didn’t I?

Should I have said it?

Should I now?

Should I tell him I love him and then continue on with whatever was about to happen? As if this never happened?

Did he mean it?

“I mean it.”

He didn’t. There’s no way.

“I love you.”

He loves making and performing music, he loves gaming, he loves going for late night rides to the shore to write and stargaze. He loves Marnie. He loves his team. He loves this city. 

He loves me… as a friend.

“I love you.”

No. No romance. Our agreement— 

“I love you.“

I love you. But—

“I love you.”

Please don’t lie to me.

“I love you.”

No.

“I love you.”

Please—

“Max!” Piers called, his right hand firmly planted on her cheek. 

Was it shaking?  

Max’s silence, followed by tears, followed by panicking her way into disassociation, sobered Piers right up. His mind scrambled as he tried to figure out what happened. 

His brain was able to put together bits and pieces: Max walking to him from the couch, Max helping him to his room, Max giggling against his belly… 

That was it. There was no in-between. There was no buffer between that and now either, really. He knows they kissed, and he knows he kissed her neck. He didn’t leave any marks, luckily. Maybe kissing her neck was risky..? They’d done more scandalous things than that without breaking their “rules,” though. 

Maybe it was just a bad day for her?

Did he ruin her day?

Did he do something wrong?

It didn’t matter. 

Well. No. It did matter, and it mattered a lot. But he needed to make sure Max was okay, that she was going to be okay, and then he could figure the rest out. 

He tried to break through to her a few times. It was only when held her face and forced her view onto him that she came back.

Piers watched Max with wide eyes, upturned brows, and a heaving chest as she blinked a few times, her vision obscured by tears. She tried her best to focus on his face to no avail. She looked down, feeling self-conscious.

“Hey, look at me.” Max heeded his words, and did her best to deepen her breaths and squeeze her tears out of the way as he reaffirmed, “It’s alright, love, you’re gonna be alright.” 

She still couldn’t speak, only a meek squeak coming out in lieu of a proper response. She felt so pathetic. 

I did this to her, Piers thought, I don’t know what I did, but I think this is my fault. 

What did I do?

He felt his own eyes begin to sting. Damn it.

“Don’t push yourself,” he instructed, “Just breathe with me, yeah?”

Max managed a barely-there nod before they began. Piers wanted her to be okay, but he wanted to be okay enough himself to make sure of that. This was just as much for him as it was for her. 

Max tried her best to match the rise and fall of his chest with her own, and soon enough, she was able to breathe without his help. She could see him clearly for a moment, but upon viewing Piers’ anxious expression, her eyes grew wetter. 

The absolute last thing she wanted to do was make him feel shitty too.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. 

She was fully crying now. At least she was vocal again. For now, at least. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Piers expressed his main concern, “I just want you to be okay. Okay? Don’t worry about me.”

Seeming too lost in her own head again to accept his response, Max just repeated, “I’m so sorry.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment, calming himself down. 

Shit. Focus.  

He wanted to kiss her again. On the forehead, on her cheeks, anywhere that might potentially make her feel better. Make her feel safe and loved. He refrained, worried he’d just overcrowd her.

As if he wasn’t doing that already. He only realized then that he was still firmly planted atop her. He moved over, laying on his side. 

He raised his top arm a bit. Silently telling her that, if she wanted, she could seek comfort in him. 

She obliged, scooting herself closer. As she nuzzled herself into his chest, Piers wrapped his arm around her. Detangled her long hair from around her body. Rubbed her upper back. Placed his palm against the back of her head, holding her close.

Max, in the meantime, was doing her best to accept his kindness. To forget her worries, to just exist here and now. She let Piers engulf her, pressing her body to his as she sought refuge in his smell, in his skin, in his embrace.

She was reminded upon touching her forehead to his chest that Piers’ shirt was partially undone, and knew that she was starting to feel better upon acknowledging that she felt flustered. She found it hard to feel anything other than sadness when she felt low enough.

She sighed, letting herself relax. Feeling herself drifting, given how mentally strenuous the past ten minutes or so had been; and above her, Piers was struggling to keep awake himself, having already been tired before the events that unfolded. 

Max cuddled a little closer, now fully plastered to Piers, placing her own arm around him. They tangled their legs together and Piers strengthened his hold on her while they comfortably molded together. At some point after Max’s breathing slowed, Piers pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, drifting off with his lips still against her.

[natsmagi]

I like to think f!Tsumugi has a few lovely outfits shoved at the back of her wardrobe from when Hiyori took her shopping while scolding her about looking like that when she has an executive job now. Occasionally they come out to universal O.O faces.

WAHHHHHHH THATS SO CUTE................ I LOVE EXFINE DYNAMICS SNIFFLE..........................

tsumugi definitely has alot of cute clothes though id imagine!! shes an idol after all!! but in her spare time she probably just prefers comfier and cozier clothes and who can blame her tbh