#what happens to head space basil?

[passerinesoncaffeine]

i'm thinking about headspace post basil bad ending but sunny lives without knowing.

thinking about hellbasil.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’…”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down.

Word count: less than 2K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts. Part II is already in the queue and will be posted on Friday, 10/11.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, Bucky the player, wild thoughts, kisses on the hand and the cheek. No sex!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

"Won't see it coming when it happens. But when it happens you're gonna feel it, let me tell you now."

Bucky always scoffed at Steve’s advice. He and Sam never understood his solitary bachelorhood and his one night stand lifestyle.

The truth was, he hadn’t met anyone who held his interest enough to warrant a second date, much less anything beyond one casual hookup. So, he never made promises that he couldn’t keep, and most women said they were down for that. 

Even if they were lying to themselves.

At 42, James Buchanan Barnes was too dedicated to his business, ostensibly as an art dealer, for a serious relationship. The truth was that he dealt in many things, and that was why his business needed so much attention. 

His life and everyone’s around him depended on it. 

Bucky Barnes wasn’t going to get caught slipping.

In love or in business.

—---

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, on what you thought would be a random Monday afternoon, he appraised you in a way that shook you to the core, those ocean blue eyes looking into your soul. You felt as if he were evaluating a piece of art as he gazed at you across his desk. 

You couldn’t know that he felt the exact same way. 

His eyes never strayed from your face as he shook your hand, but he’d noticed every bit of you as you entered his gallery, Rebirth. You were more stunning than any piece of art that he’d ever curated in the space.

While nothing like his normal type, you made Bucky feel as if he’d been so wrong about so much in his life the moment you entered his orbit. He had to get to know you to find what he’d been missing.

This afternoon you were a sight to behold and serving body. Although you were covered from neck to shin in an elegant sheath dress, the high, wrapped waist was giving all of your bounteous curves up to whoever glanced at you. And you had heads turning.

Steve, Sam, and even Natasha craned their necks to watch you as you entered Bucky’s office. And he could have sworn that Nat’s neck was at a 90 degree angle as she watched you leave her desk just outside his door.

You were fine as hell.

Bucky was entranced by dreams of handling your curves and making you smile at him forever.

As Bucky dreamed, you admired the man in front of you. Tall, dark, and handsome, Barnes wasn’t a young man, but the gray in his beard and the crinkles around his eyes made him that much more attractive. 

Even more attractive than in the paparazzi pics of him with various young models and actresses of the moment, waifs and ingénues with whom he was never photographed twice.

You just knew you were safe from any advances from him.

You thought.

“Enchanté, Ms. Y/LN. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Bucky lowered his head as he greeted you, a slight bow and extended his hand to his desk. You noticed the tattoo that started on his hand and seemed to go up his sleeve and went in the direction he pointed.

"You know, you are quite tenacious. I don’t take many meetings with potential buyers. But all of my people told me that I should.”

The silk of his voice, the unexpected tenor of it, and the way he took your hand made you shiver at the aura of experience that he gave off.

The word Daddy floated around in your mind for a moment until he invited you to sit.

You had to concentrate on the business at hand, that of negotiating for a piece of art for the Art and Culture Center in Brownsville, of which you were the director. The purchase was made possible by benefactors to commemorate a deceased Brownsville artist who became famous, then forgotten, during the Harlem Renaissance.

“You’ve made it past Ms. Romanoff, my gallerist, Mr. Wilson, my business manager, and Mr. Rogers, my gallery director, Ms. Y/LN. What makes you think that I’m going to give you a different answer? Letting that piece go for the price you’ve proposed is not a good business move.”

“You can’t afford to miss out on this opportunity, Mr. Barnes. Yes, you will be taking a loss on the artwork, but you will be on the ground floor of a major rediscovery. You will be known as one of the few who helped to resurrect the brilliance of the artist Howard Benson. You can be the Alice Walker to his Zora Neale Hurston.”

And that is when Bucky leaned back in his chair, astounded at your shrewd calculation.

“I love the way your mind works, Ms. Y/LN.”

You smiled and settled back into your chair, causing Bucky to shift in his chair. He wanted to be buried in you. He appraised and decided that he liked the pout that changed your lips almost as much as the smile that initially greeted him when he replied, “But that price is still unacceptable.”

You raised an adorable eyebrow at him and rose to the challenge that he lay at your feet ready to tangle with the inimitable James Barnes. The conversation stretched from early afternoon to dinner time, making you suspect that Barnes was drawing it out for some reason. You matched him, point for point, until it was dark. But he yielded no ground.

The conversation was intellectual foreplay: art history, sociology, american politics. And it was the most stimulated you’d been in a while. 

You could do this all night.

Your phone buzzed and you looked down. There were several text messages and emails lighting up your screen. You’d been in deep with Barnes for hours. It was after 6 pm. It seemed like only minutes. You noticed that it was only you and Bucky left in the gallery and rose to excuse yourself, albeit reluctantly.

“Oh! I’m sorry to keep you so long. I’m sure that you must have plans.”

You’d done your research and you knew that there was probably someone little more than half Barnes’ age waiting for him. When you searched social media, there was a sighting or spotted every month or so of Bucky and a young, beautiful woman.

You reached for your coat, but Bucky was behind you in seconds, taking it from you and helping you put it on. You shivered at his breath at your throat and his hands on your collarbone as he draped the lapels over your neck. His deep chuckle made your stomach flip. He saw right through you.

“No one is waiting for me but my cat, Alpine. How about you, Ms. YLN? Anyone waiting for you in Brownsville?”

“Not tonight. No.”

Why in the world were you doing the sultry whisper thing? This man didn’t want you. 

Did he?

You cleared your throat and you felt dizzy when you looked up and saw how close he was standing to you. Those eyes and the smile that graced his handsome face had you warm, but the way he licked his lips had you spiraling.

Bucky pushed down a mild sense of panic that someone might be expecting you some other night, but that was irrational. Competition never ever entered his mind when he talked to other women. 

What was happening here?

“Well I would consider myself extremely fortunate and would be honored if we could continue this conversation over dinner.”

—-

The way James Barnes turned your meeting into a dinner date had your head spinning, but the wonderful conversation and easy, light hearted banter eased your mind. As soon as the first course was served at your table at dinner at Bohemian, he agreed to your initial price.

From there, once the terms were settled, the conversation turned to more personal questions, each of you sharing the stories of your life in your town, his childhood in Romania, your childhood in Brooklyn, and lots of funny stories.

At one point early in the night, Bucky stopped you from calling him Mr. Barnes.

“Please. Call me James. Or you could call me Bucky. My Friends call me Bucky. For my middle name, Buchanan. Bucky is short for Buchanan.”

Bucky found himself rambling. He had not been this nervous in a while.

You looked at him quizzically. At that moment, he would give you anything you were about to ask of him.

“Do you have a lot of friends? I mean, do a lot of people call you Bucky?“

Godamn, the husk in your voice, those lips, those eyes. Everything about you was about to set him on fire.

“I have a few who are in my close circle. Natasha, Steve, Sam. They and a very few others call me Bucky. Most people I speak with call me Mr. Barnes...”

You nodded slowly, licking your lips, making Bucky feel it in his cock.

“Then I will call you James.”

He got your subtle meaning. You wanted to be different. 

And you were. So very different.

After almost five hours of the best conversation and laughter, he proposed another time for you two to meet before the week was up, on Friday. He had made it clear at dinner that now that business was concluded that he wanted to spend time with you.

Friday night would be a date, the second one at his insistence.

You debated that fact as his driver took you home, even up until he walked you to the door of your brownstone.

He leaned against your doorframe and checked you out as you retrieved your keys from your purse. When you turned and caught him looking, you gasped, causing him to straighten up and move toward you, eyes dilated.

“It will be our second date,” you conceded.

Bucky’s mouth curled into a smirk as he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his mouth. Your soul burned as he pressed his lips to your palm. It was like the hint of a drug in your veins and you wanted so much more.

“What made you change your mind?”

That voice. Did you have a voice kink? Good lord.

You flushed, both at the images that were racing through your mind, and at the arbitrary three date rule you’d made up a while ago. Why was that again?

You cleared your throat.

“Because of the way you are looking at me, James. And the fact that you just kissed me.”

“Is this a kiss?”

“Ummhmmmm.”

You hummed as Bucky raised his eyebrow and your hand again. This time, he brushed his lips against your wrist and inhaled the perfume lingering there. You were about to melt.

Bucky didn’t even know what he was doing. The next step in his mind was to open his mouth and consume you, but he opened his eyes and spied you looking at him in that way, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want this to be like all of his other conquests.

He straightened up, but didn’t let go of your hand, entangling your fingers together. 

“You are correct, Y/N. In my mind, this is a date. I am interested in you, for more than just your taste in art. I hope that this is the first date of many.”

You were bowled over at his straightforwardness. It was not what you were used to. This was a man, not a boy in mens clothing.

“I appreciate your honesty, James.”

You went on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering on the black and grey stubble so close to his lips. You turned around, giving him a view of your backside as you opened your door.

“And your ambition.”

You gave him that smile again with a wink, and your “Goodnight, James,” floated up to him on cloud nine.

——-

Let me know if you liked it!

Part II here.

[clarkeyshill]

whatever happens, i’m letting it

part one

will lenney x fem reader

summary: will falls for chris’ new assistant

navigation | masterlist | main masterlist

You huffed as you adjusted the bags and boxes that laid in your arms. You hobbled up the stairs in your heeled boots, kicking for them with each step to prevent yourself from falling.

You had been working for Chris for about a month at this point and you had slotted into the work space nicely, making friends with everyone as well as being named a fan favourite already.

The footsteps of another person echoed through corridor of the office building and you poked your head up over the boxes to see a man walking towards you with a dog in his arms.

The man looked up spotting you struggling to juggled the copious amount of stuff in your hands, “Uh, need a hand?” He asked in a northern english accent making yours ears perk slightly.

“If you’ve got the time.” You smiled looking up at him.

The man placed the dog on the floor and grabbed the top 4 boxes and one of the bags leaving you with two bags and a box to carry.

“Where you headed?”

“Just to Chris’ office.” You nodded to the office at the end of the corridor and the man hummed walking off with the small dachshund pattering after him.

You gnawed at your bottom lip awkwardly not knowing if you should make conversation with the stranger as you walked together.

“You’re Chris’ new assistant, yeah?” He asked, looking back at you and you replied with a nod.

“Yeah,” you muttered, “What’s your dogs name?”

“His names Basil.”

“Cute,” You smiled looking down at the dog, “Like Basil Brush.”

The person let out a small laugh as he nodded, “Exactly.”

You both reached Chris’ office and you rushed forward opening the door holding it for the stranger and just nodded to the closest desk, “You can just put them there.”

The man nodded placing the down and then grabbing the stuff that You was still holding putting them on the desk as well.

“Thank you…” you trailed off realising she didn’t catch his name when they first interacted.

“Will.”

“Well, thank you Will.”

“Anytime,” He muttered looking down at the notebook on the table, “y/n?”

You flashed him a coy smile and Will nodded before whispering for Basil to leave you alone as the dog sniffed around your feet.

You crouched down letting the dog sniff your hand before stroking him, “It was nice meeting you, Basil.” You said to the dog jumping up on your knees making you chuckle before you looked up at Will through your eyelashes, “You too Will.”

“See you later.” He nodded with a lopsided smile before leaving the office with the dog right behind him running between his legs.

[cjlouwho]

Our Future

(a bucktommy mini(ish) fic)

ao3 link or read below

Summary: Buck gets a little reckless at work, and Tommy gets a lot upset.

It had started with the silent treatment when Buck first got home from work. Tommy was fixing dinner, forcefully plucking basil leaves from the stem and tossing them into the pot when Buck came in.

He knew something was wrong right away, especially when he was only greeted with a monotone, “Hello,” and no attempt to move away from the pot that did not actually need to be stirred at the moment.

Buck had walked over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before going to shower.

Once he was showered and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, he came back out and sat down at the kitchen island, where Tommy was now aggressively chopping lettuce.

“So, how was your day?” Buck asked cautiously.

“Fine.”

“Do anything fun?”

“Not really.”

“Get some rest?”

“Tried to.”

Buck rested his hands on the counter, tapping his fingers a few times before asking his next question. “You didn't... Did you happen to catch the evening news?”

Instead of answering, Tommy stopped chopping the lettuce, put the knife down and went to the fridge to get a cucumber. A thick silence filled the space between them as Tommy washed the cucumber and returned to his cutting board. He picked back up the knife and resumed the harsh chopping.

“I will take that as a yes,” Buck mumbled. He sighed, briefly resting his head in his hands before continuing, “Say something, Tommy. You've got your grumpy face and everything; I know you're mad.”

“I'm not mad,” he answered, obviously mad. “And I do not have a grumpy face.”

“You very much do have a grumpy face.” He tried to meet Tommy's eyes from across the island, but Tommy was avoiding him. “Come on, Tom,” Buck said calmly, patiently, “Talk to me.”

Tommy put down the knife and, for the first time since Buck got home, he looked at him. His eyes were red. It almost looked like he'd been crying.

“I just don't get it, Evan. What would possess you to do that?”

“It's my job,” Buck defended. “It's our job. It's what we do.”

“No. No, what you did was way beyond the job. You know how I know it was beyond the job?” He asked rhetorically. “I know because, when I was watching the news, I could hear Bobby on the live feed yelling at you to not go back in.”

“I- I had to go back in though, Tommy. I had to save him. If I didn't go back in, he would have died.”

“He. Was. A. Hamster!” Tommy replied, emphasizing each word. “You risked your life, for a hamster.”

“Of course I did!” Buck said, as though it was crazy to think he wouldn't go back in. “Tommy, you didn't see that little girl crying. Sh- She just got Georgie a couple months ago for her birthday a- and she took such good care of him. She was freaking out. I didn't really think about it, I just went.”

“That's the problem!” Tommy exclaimed, motioning to Buck. “You didn't think about it. You never think about it. You go, and you run into the fire, and you become the hero, and you never once stop to think about you!”

“Hey, that's not fair-”

“What if the ceiling would have collapsed?” Tommy continued. “What if your exit had become blocked? Or the buildup of smoke got you lost? You never considered those things, did you?”

“I told you I didn't think about it,” Buck replied. His voice was quiet, reserved. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was anger or shame. Either way, he hated it.

“Well, you should have.”

Okay, now Buck knew it was anger he was feeling. “Oh, thank you for those- those wise words. You've really changed my perspective. You should have,” he mocked, getting up from his seat. He went to head toward their bedroom, every intention to slam the door behind him, but instead he turned back around to face Tommy. “You know, we've been together for two years and never once have you made me feel bad for doing my job! In fact, most of the time, you seem to find it pretty hot.”

“When you're not being careless.”

“I was not being careless! I was saving an animal! I was helping that kid wh- who just lost everything she had.”

“Yeah, well what about us, Evan? What about everything you have? Our future? Our kids?”

All the retorts Buck had prepared suddenly disappeared. He stared at Tommy for a moment, dumbfounded, before uttering out, “Our... Our kids? Tommy, we don't have kids.”

Tommy put his hands on his hips, standing straighter. “No, not yet, but one day we will.”

“You think about that?”

“Of course I do,” Tommy replied as though it should be obvious. “We've talked about having kids someday, Ev.”

“Yeah, I- I know we talked about it I just didn't know you thought about it.” Any hint of anger in his voice had long fallen away.

“Don't you?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. A lot.”

Tommy took a breath, rubbing his hands over his eyes to try and wipe away some of the exhaustion from the day. He moved around the island, taking a few steps closer to Buck. “I just worry,” he said, his voice faltering. “I worry that one day you're going to run into a burning building looking for a turtle, or a fish, and then I'm gonna have to explain that to our kids. I'm gonna be left,” he paused, “left alone, and I can't- I can't handle that.”

“But what if it's a person?” Buck asked. “How would that be any easier?”

“It wouldn't be easier,” Tommy admitted, “but at least I'd understand it then. Listen, Evan, I love animals as much as the next person but I love you a lot more. I'd like to know that when you're at work, you're there with the priority to come back home.”

Buck moved closer to Tommy. Close enough to reach out and grab his hand. “I can't promise you that I'll never run into a building looking for an animal again. That's just me, you know that. But I can promise you that surviving and coming home to you, and our future children, is always in the front of my mind. Always.”

Tommy nodded, blinking away tears. “Today was, um, it was the first time I was ever home, just sitting and watching the news and there you were. They had a special alert for the fire, and it was just live coverage of everything happening, and there you were,” he took in a shaky breath. “I couldn't do anything but watch and when you ran back in, I- I started counting. It was four minutes, twenty three seconds and I don't think I took a breath that entire time. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it kind of felt like my heart was breaking apart, piece by piece.”

Buck shook his head. “That's not ridiculous,” he said, squeezing Tommy's hand even tighter. He pulled Tommy closer, wrapping him in a hug. “I would've felt the same way if it was you. I'm sorry.”

Tommy rested his chin on Buck's shoulder, closing his eyes. “You don't need to be sorry.”

After they held each other for a moment, Tommy pulled back just enough to look at Buck. “Evan, I don't want you to change who you are. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Buck replied, and it was true. He knew Tommy loved him for exactly who he was, even if he was a little reckless sometimes.

“I just-”

Buck raised a hand to Tommy's cheek, stopping him. “I know,” he assured him. He leaned in, giving Tommy a soft kiss. Tommy sighed into it, the tenseness from the day leaving his body.

“I think we should order out,” Buck said once they parted. “Dinner's starting to smell a little charred.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “Oh God,” he said, rushing over to the burnt pot of food on the stove.

“So, did they say anything about me on the news?” Buck asked cheekily as Tommy turned off the stove and dumped the pot into the sink. “Come up with any good nicknames?”

“Oh, actually, yeah,” Tommy replied. “They were calling you the Rodent Rescuer.”

Buck's face fell. “You're kidding.”

Tommy smiled. “I'm not.” He walked back over to Buck, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. “I prefer Hamster Hero,” he said, smacking Buck's ass playfully as he headed into the living room to get his phone and order some food.

Buck smiled. “I hate you,” he said, plopping down on the couch beside Tommy.

Tommy wrapped his arm around Buck, pulling him to his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head, running his fingers through Buck's hair. “Yeah, I hate you too.”

[inazumatrash]

Some concept art for a discarted comic idea.

But I ended up adapting the script to a fanfic! (It's a little rough and I'm new to writing, so any feedback is welcome) Omori spoilers ahead.

The events of this story happens sometime after Mari's funeral.

///

It's sunset time with blue and soft pink tints all over the urban scenery. Basil is finishing tying up the velcro of his sandals to go out. Grabbing the door knob, he turns his head back to leave one final message before leaving.

"I'll be back soon, grandma!"

There's a chilling breeze outside and the streets are eerily empty. But Basil prefer this way. His head is full of thoughts, he needs the space. Approaching his destination, he stops looking at the sidewalk and lifts his head. He finally spot a living soul a bit ahead of him.

It's Kel. He's in front of Sunny's house. Kel seems to hesitate for a while, but gathers courage and knocks on the door. He vigorously give three consecutive knocks.

"That's a bit too much." Basil observes. Good old Kel.

It doesn't take too long for the door to open, and Sunny's mom appears. She has a dull look in her eyes. She's tired.

"Oh, it's you, Kelsey…" She looks over his shoulder. "and Basil."

Kel also looks back. Basil is suddenly there, a few steps of distance.

"What can I do for you two?"

"Uh." Kel is a little surprised with Basil's presence, but figured out he came for the same reason as him. "Can I- Can we talk to Sunny?"

"Hm…" She looks away before answering. "He's a little more unresponsive than usual..."

Basil feels a pinch of pain in his stomach.

"I wasn't able to talk to him since… the funeral." Kel fidgets a little. "I want to let him know he can count on us!"

Sunny's mom mouth corner's change to a soft, yet warm smile.

"Well, I'm sure he would appreciate to hear from you two, at least."

She steps back, opening the door welcoming the boys in. Kel perks up and calls Basil with a hand gesture. They enter the house.

"He's at their- at his room."

At the living room, the boys can see the glass door that leads to the backyard, highlighted with a menacing reddish orange light of the last sunrays. Kel immediatelly changes his attention to Sunny's mom back, while Basil has a hard time moving away his focus from it. They arrive at the staircase. Kel doesn't think twice and steps halfway through it. Basil freezes.

"Basil?" Kel calls out for him.

Basil tries to hide his anxiety and replies "C-coming!"

They are at front of Sunny's room, Sunny's mother a little further, to give the boys some space. Kel knocks the door, but this time, more gently.

"Sunny? It's Kel and Basil!" No reply.

Basil gives a quick look back at the staircase and Something starts crawling around him.

"Sunny." Kel starts again, leaning his hand on the door. "Sorry for not talking to you until now. But you know that we're here for you, right?" Kel sends a signal to Basil by raising his eyebrows and tilting his head towards the door, asking him to join.

Basil desperately tries to find the words. But the truth is, he wasn't expecting Sunny's mom, much less Kel's presence. It's not that he didn't have anything to say. He couldn't say anything he wanted to.

The creeping silence started to bother Kel, so he continued instead.

"Oh, I know! If you want, we can have a sleepover!" No reply. "Uh, it doesn't need to be anything fancy! We don't need to play games or eat snacks… We don't even need to talk. Just have each other's company, y'know?"

Kel smiled as he placed his other hand and ear to the door, waiting for the answer. He believed his idea was too good to be turned down. No reply.

"Sunny?" More silence.

Sunny's mom sighs, ready to call Kel and Basil back. Kel moves away from the door. He starts playing with his hoodie strings, looking a little less bright than before.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay." He did his best to hold a smile "I totally understand if you just need time alone."

"…like Hero." He completes under his breath, almost a whisper.

Another wave of silence. Is Sunny ignoring them? Is he even listening? Basil's mind go blank as he stares at the door.

"We'll come back tomorrow!" Kel bursts. The "we" took Basil by surprise.

"R-right! We'll be back tomorrow, Sunny." Basil faintly addes to the farewell.

Kel gives one last knock on the door, and starts walking away. Basil follows him.

"Oh, kids…"

"Can we really come back tomorrow?" Basil asks.

"Oh, yes, you may come… I'll let you know if he's available or not." It wasn't very reassuring.

After one last goodbye, the two boys leave the house. A few steps later, they stop in front of Kel's house. Before Basil could say anything, Kel apologizes.

"I'm sorry you couldn't say much. I hogged all the time for myself."

"N-not really. I wasn't sure what to say, anyway…"

"Isn't it strange, though? Sunny… He doesn't like to be alone, why would he…?" Kel stops and shakes his head. "We just have to try again tomorrow!" Kel smiles seems forced, Basil notices.

"W-well… See you tomorrow, then?"

"No, wait- let me walk you home!"

"O-okay." Basil let him be.

In the middle of the walk, Kel turns to Basil.

"I still didn't talk to Aubrey either. Did you?" Basil shakes his head. "I thought about visiting her too, but- I think I'm the last person she would want to see." Basil thought the same of himself, but kept silent about it.

Kel is a open book, he has no reason to hide his emotions and usually can be very blunt with his honesty. But something feels off today. Or since then. That day. Looking better, Basil notices Kel was using a navy colored hoodie at least two sizes larger than it should be. A small letter "H" was embroidered on it. Kel would use passed down clothes from Hero, but this one was clearly borrowed before its time.

He was lonely too.

Soon, Basil's home is right around the corner.

"Hm, actually." Basil starts. "I promised grandma I was going to buy a few things at the convenience store. Do you want to tag along…?" Kel snorts in reply. Was Basil trying to cheer him up?

"Sure, let's go! But let's be quick, mom won't like if I come home too late." He skips ahead.

"Wait! The store is on the opposite direction!"

"Oh!!"

///

It's night. Between the interval of a lightpost to another, Kel can't stand the silence anymore.

"Aah, I should have brought some pocket money!" He comes closer to Basil, using his hand to shield the conversation like he was about to confide a secret. "But I already spent all my allowance."

Basil wasn't expecting chit-chat, but wasn't too surprised either. It kind of gave him a sense of normality.

"…Hero always scolds me for spending it too quickly.

Like everything that happened was just a bad dream…

"But Mari would always treat me instead!"

A shiver passes through Basil's spine.

"Are you cold?" Kel opens his arms as invinting for a hug.

"No, I'm okay!"

Kel stops and rewinds what he just said.

"Sorry."

"N-no, don't be." Basil almost regrets calling Kel over. The uncomfortable silence is back, until Kel broke it again.

"I'll be more careful with my money from now on."

"?"

"So I can be the one who treat everyone out! How is that?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"

"What? You understimate me!!"

Basil slips a weak smile. Kel smiles back, like he planned it from the beggining. They continue their walk.

///

At the convenience store, Basil goes straight to what he went for. To kill time, Kel explores around until something take his attention at the candy area. Basil approaches too see what was so interesting. Kel only notices his presence after a while.

"Eek!" Kel was startled.

"…Are you going to ask for borrowed money?" Basil teases.

"No!! I was just looking… See, there's everyone's favorite flavor today…"

Basil identifies each flavor and silently pick them up.

They leave the store and Kel lifts his lollipop over his head.

"Basil, you're the best!" The compliment take Basil aback.

"It's just candy…"

"Yeah, it's just candy." Basil didn't expect him to agree so fast.

"It's the thought that counts!"

Basil just nods.

///

They arrive at Basil's house again.

"We're here!" Kel announces the obvious.

"Y-yeah."

Basil moves ahead to the door.

"See you tomorrow!!"

Basil stops.

"S-sure."

///

Basil is welcomed by his grandma with tea and cookies. Putting the groceries aside and with a cup in hands, he stares at the lollipops over the kitchen's table. Strawberry, watermelon and grape. He thinks back when Kel pointed that everyones flavors were available. All six of them. He shrugs the thought away.

Kel is on his way back, already appreciating his orange lollipop, while waving the cola flavored one in the air. He wonders when he'll be able to deliver the little gift. He wonders when he'll be able to talk to Hero again. Or to any of his friends for that matter. He shrugs the thought away.

THE END

[sunflowersoap]

Thoughts so far from revisiting the beginning of Omori, and the implications it has about Sunny:

The way, like other people pointed out, Kel is constantly poked fun of in headspace due to Sunnys jealousy, yet is also shown to be so so treasured by Sunny? The way in his dream he literally is shown to hide right next to Omori so he doesn't have to be alone. That's something Sunny thinks Kel would do. Which, very interesting and sweet to me! I wonder if Kel did something like that in real life and it meant a lot to Sunny.

The way Sunny invented a scene in his brain where he'd have to save Basil is very, *very* interesting in context. I wonder if it was an outlet for his guilt around wondering if Basil was okay, wondering if maybe if he's in danger. He invents a scenario where he rescues Basil and everything's okay. Also the way he is so forgiving of Boss mixed with how so many things in black space, which I will remind you *is Sunnys worst fears*, involve him trusting Omori way too much and leading to him dying horribly. In this, Boss would never hurt Basil, everyone's protective of Basil, everything's fine. But Boss is juuuust a little of that fear creeping in, I think. Also the aspect of Basil being hurt for something he didn't do in Omoris mind. Just a little bit of that fear sneaking in.

Basil telling Mari she's got everything under control, and Mari says "That's not true at all! It just seems that way from the outside!" when real world Mari was said to have very rarely ever shown what she was feeling. Aubrey says she only ever saw her cry once. So Sunny knew it was hard for her, saw her mess up and stress (ex: the fucking duet practice), and noted in his head everyone else thought she was perfect. I wonder if he resented her for it some way.

It's interesting how that scene of Basil being hurt for something (in sunnys mind) he didn't do and that scene of Mari admitting shes not perfect happened just before the truth starts to surface. I wonder if that was the tipping point, he started considering "Basil could be hurt for someone else's fuck up" and "Mari isn't perfect", and suddenly everything falls apart. That little slip and suddenly it's all up in flames. Very interesting how suddenly from this point on, Mari is made into a perfect angel.

There's more but I am exhausted /lh and need some rest, so! Will continue later.

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Hello! And Happy Wednesday! :) I have had some time to make some good progress on Sugar Baby Alex, so today we have a fun and long snippet. (so it's under a cut so I don't take up too much space) Hope you enjoy darlings <3

-

Alex tried not to watch, to seem as unaffected as possible, because ultimately, he was meant to be the one seducing Henry, not the other way around. But watching the blond strip off his cozy oversized sweater had some sort of magnetic effect. The way fabric ruffled neat blond locks, how until this moment, Alex had not understood just how broad Henry was, a built frame with love handles and a plush stomach softened with age; all of it proved to be too much for Alex to resist. He’d been pretending to busy himself bringing towels closer to the pool’s edge when Henry slipped off shoes and shed his trousers. Even if Henry was in boxers that may as well have been swim trunks, his thighs were fully on display. And holy fuck, what a display it was. Alex literally felt himself manually swallow a groan as he locked eyes on maybe the thickest pair of thighs he’d ever seen. They looked strong, toned, and the fact that they weren’t wrapped around Alex’s head right now, was a criminal offense. Despite still walking, Alex’s gaze had not left Henry’s thighs, or body for that matter, for the last minute. That was how he ended up walking directly into a fence post. He hadn’t the slightest idea how he’d even gotten turned that way or walked that far. He only knew that his face hurt and that the dull *thunk* sound of his face meeting wood and subsequential groan had alerted Henry. “Alex? Oh my god, Alex are you alright? What happened?” After a short step backward, Alex raised one hand, the other pressing against his own nose, “I’m fine, I’m good, I promise. I mean, not nearly as good as you look,” he offered, giving his best bedroom eyes. ‘Play it cool Alex, play it cool’ chimed in the back of his head as he pulled his hand away from his face and saw the slightest tinge of red on his fingertips. With a minor sniffle, he wiped the top of his hand under his nose, streaking crimson over tanned skin. “It’s all good,” he assured the other man, still giving his best come-hither look. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding, Christ Alex, you are not fine,” Henry fussed, quickly making his way over to the brunette. Both of his hands scooped Alex closer, one hand on the other man’s lower back as he walked the two of them toward the house. “Come on, come inside, we’ve got to get some ice on that and figure out if it’s broken.” “Hen, I’m good, really,” Alex groaned, waving his blood smeared hand in the direction of the blond. “Stop that, you’re literally bleeding Alex, inside now.” “Oh baby, I like that authoritative tone, you’re sexy when you get all demanding. Can we play doctor and patient?” the brunette giggled, letting himself be pushed inside and into Henry’s kitchen. “You’re a menace, Alexander. You’re also American, and I’m certain your insurance doesn’t cover whatever sexual fantasy you’re cooking up,” the blond tutted, pushing Alex to sit in a kitchen chair as he rushed around to get a damp cloth and an ice pack.

-

🏷️(no pressure tags darlings)

@taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @henrysfox

@mikibwrites @eusuntgratie

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics

@henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones

@henfox @anti-homophobia-cheese @redlipstickandglitter

@thesleepyskipper @tailsbeth-writes @thighzp

+ literally anyone else I'm tired and forgot. (Im queueing this at 2:30am) or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

btw

DETECTIVE AU!!!

im gonna give a rundown (lots of reading ahead!! Tw: murder, suicide, insanity, guns, mania, hanging mention, pink blood/gore)

Chr info:

Basil- Detective (in my words w/ friends, ‘sherlock holmes on all sorts of crack’)

Aubrey- Volunteered Assistant

keep reading under the cut if interested!! (Some of the information relating to policework may be inaccurate.)

basically, in this au, Sunny accidentally killed mari but there were no witnesses. It was his idea to stage it as a suicide.

By the time he’s applied for college, basil has suspected for YEARS that something is up. Mari wouldn’t up and kill herself like that, no way.

He and Aubrey go to college for uhh. Police involved things i forgot what it’s called

anyways Basil got a phd and aubrey got a masters degree (hence her being an assistant, she actually works at Krispy Kreme but shhh)

So basil yaps to their chief of staff like ‘hey theres something up with the suicide of Marianne Suzuki, can we do a case on that’ etc

Anyways they get the case approved and they go to Sunnys house to start investigating!!

‼️‼️‼️

WARNING!! I will be writing a fanfic about this au and if you don’t want spoilers for that STOP HERE!!! ‼️‼️‼️

if not, continue!!

‼️‼️‼️

………………………………..

after about a month, basil’s been drugging himself, drinking, etc. hes passed out multiple times while investigating. Aubrey suggests that he should give up on the investigation since they haven’t found anything. Basil replies that ‘hed rather die. If anyones gonna solve this case its going to be me.’

theres some empty space here (i will not be telling you what happens except Basil’s been getting sick on the job)

eventually, they find out the truth. Sunny wrote it all down in a journal. (Idiot lmao)

Basil, having reached his limit, pulls out his gun and aims it at Sunny’s head.

‘don’t move an inch, coward.’

sunny, naturally, tries to step away, or more accurately towards basil in an attempt to explain. Basil freaks out.

‘GET AWAY FROM ME, MURDERER!!’

and he shoots.

Aubrey, naturally, stands there in shock before calling the station. She gets basil arrested.

he pleads insane at his trial and gets sent to a mental ward.

as soon as he’s released, he kills himself the way he killed sunny. out of guilt.

THE END 🥳🥳🥳

anyways!! Heres some art for the au !! :3

[ask-bad-end-sunny]

☀️ "The sky was brighter when he was here..." ☀️

(⚠️Warning: This blog will contain spoilers for the game, Omori, which is a game with subjects about depression, anxiety and other dark themes, just be mindful of this going forward! ⚠️)

Anyway, hey!! So, some of you guys may recognize my art style and such. Yes, I am also the mod of @ask-the-six-human-souls ! I got into Omori about a year ago, and it's been my brain rot since. I'm probably going to take a break from my Undertale blog because of this...I may get back into it, but only time will tell! I've just been wanting to do something like this that's Omori related. I'm not sure how it'll go, but we'll see! Anyway...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

BLOG STORYLINE

☀️ This blog takes place after the bad ending of Omori, where Sunny gives into Omori and succumbs by jumping off the hospital rooftop. Now, he's a ghost, much like his sister. However, he is not exactly fond of wanting to interact with her. He can see how broken his friend group continues to become because of his own death, but he watches from afar. He can't do anything about it...there's no way to fix what he has broken. That voice in his head is still there. He caused all this...what can save them now? Will he be able to overcome this?

...Oh, and he's answering questions now, too.☀️

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

SPECIAL TAGS (so far)

#spirit sunny asks / #spirit sunny - Asks/posts that have to do with Sunny ☀️

#spirit mari asks / #spirit mari - Asks/posts that have to do with Mari ��

#omori asks - Asks that have to do with Omori 🔪

#stranger asks - Asks that have to do with Stranger 🪢

#basil asks - Asks that have to do with Basil 🌻

#mod 💛 - Posts made by/asks that are answered by the mod (that me!! 💛)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

NOTABLE PLOT POINTS (will update as plot continues)

Arc 1

The grief of friends

"I'm sorry...my best friend..."

Influence

Graveyard (Start of Spirit Mari asks)

Welcome to White Space (Start of Omori asks)

The Light Bulb

Church of Something (Start of Stranger asks)

Steady your heartbeat...

The DREAMER is beyond the door...

Arrival at the Church

"I will not stand idle this time."

An eye for an eye

Fight in the Church

The Shadow fades

Arc 2

Argument in White Space

Mari intervenes

A sister's comfort

Let's have a picnic!

Faraway Town Forecast: Cloudy

Daises

Arc 3

The ALTER

Face your Guilt 1

Face your Guilt 2

Face your Guilt 3

Face your Guilt 4

OYASUMI

FINAL DUET

Meadow

Good morning!

Arc 4

Everything is going to be ok (Start of Basil asks)

Waiting for something to happen?

Something Falling

A Home For Flowers

Guidance

Bathroom

Something in the mirror

Mari's Assistance

Lily of the Valley

Arc 5

Black Forest

Thoughts

Save Basil?

Something in the Lake

Not Your Fault

White Space Check-In

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

CHARACTER REFS (Will be updated as more characters are added for asks!)

(From left to right)

SUNNY

Age: 16

Associated Flower: White Tulips

{ "White Tulips are simple flowers that usually represent purity, innocence and forgiveness..." }

Spirit Abilities: Accessing Headspace by sleeping, can communicate through dreams

. . . .

MARI

Age: 19

Associated Flower(s): Lily of the Valley/White Egret Orchids

{ "Lily of the Valley are beautiful flowers that represent joy, love, and happiness. It is also said that they ward of evil spirits..." }

{ "In the language of flowers, White Egret Orchids represent the phrase: "My thoughts will follow you into your dreams." They also represent new beginnings, good intentions, and purity of the soul." }

Spirit Abilities: Can communicate through dreams, presence can ward off Somethings and help others sleep/calm down

. . . .

OMORI

Age: 12

Associated Flower(s): White Tulips/Poppy

{ "White Tulips are simple flowers that usually represent purity, innocence and forgiveness..." }

{ "Poppy flowers usually represent things such as sleep, death and remembrance..." }

Abilities: Can summon Red Hands at will, with enough power can gain control over Sunny's thoughts and body

(From left to right)

STRANGER

Age: 16

Associated Flower(s): Daisies/Black Beauty Sunflowers

{ "Daises represent new beginnings, long term trust and commonly are associated with keeping secrets." }

{ "Black Beauty Sunflowers are a type of Sunflower that represent mystery, alluring darkness and strength." }

Abilities: Something is used for battle but most of the time he doesn't fight unless completely necessary.

. . . .

BASIL

Age: 16

Associated Flower: Sunflowers

{ "Sunflowers get their name from their looks as well as how they always face towards the sun...they represent positivity, happiness and loyalty." }

Abilities: N/A

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[ominoose]

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫-𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

Summary: Random drabble's about Steven Grant meeting other Oscar Isaac characters. No Marc or Jake co-concious, only referenced. Characters: Basil Stitt, Leto Atreides, Poe Dameron A/N: This randomly hit me and I wanted to write it because it was funny. Used a spinny wheel for it. Also idk if BB-8 can do that but now he can.

London was it's usual muggy, busy self as Steven ran down the street, hoping to catch the bus to work. It had been hard enough to get a job after the Museum Incident, but maintaining a position was proving to be a much harder endeavor between his abnormal sleeping patterns and head mates.

"Oi! Wait, please!" Steven was within touching distance just as the bus sped off, and at the lack of anything to rest his weight on or break his fall, the man found himself tumbling face first into traffic.

☽ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐭 (Lightningface)

+ When Steven first wakes up in the apartment, his first thought is that he's woken up in a bomb site. The apartment is a mess, furniture and clothes strewn everywhere haphazardly. He's momentarily glad Marc isn't replying in his head, knowing the American would have an aneurysm over the state of the place.

+ Basil is the one to find Steven, jumping up from his spot on the couch and staring at him like he's an alien. The first thought in his mind is that Ricky the Monkey did some crazy magic and brought a clone to replace him. Poor Steven barely has a chance to process the situation before he's trying to calm his scarred, other American look alike down and explain his situation. Nothing manages to convince Basil there isn't some magic going on here, but he stops viewing Steven as an evil replacement.

+ After the initial shock and awkward introductions, they manage to sit down and chat for a few minutes. Basil shares the story of the lightning strike, insisting that its imbued him with magical powers. Steven, bless his heart, immediately believes this and boasts about his own moon powers too.

"You know, I've always wanted to try jumping off the roof and flying, have you done that?"

"Oh no, my mate Marc usually handles that, but maybe we can practice together? Have you got a suit as well?"

"Yeah, it's this paper bag and bed sheet I fixed up myself! C'mon, I have a stool on the balcony-"

"Wait, hang about.... Actually, mate, on second thoughts, lets not."

+ Steven ends up convincing Basil to properly fix his apartment, not just brush away the broken shards and dust. So that's what they do for a while, busying themselves as they theorize on how to get Steven back home with only a handful of brain cells between them. Basil listens with surprising intensity when Steven ends up branching off into Egyptology tangents, and likewise Steven nods along when Basil brings up all the documentaries he'd watched recently. In the end, the apartment does end up in much better shape, and the pair become quite chummy.

"Damn. Thanks for the help... Maybe I did overreact a bit."

"Yeah, it's no problem bruvs, it happens. Surprised the doctors didn't give you anymore meds, though I suppose over here its not like the NHS."

"Oh, no I didn't go to the hospital."

"...You wot?!"

𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 (Dune)

+ Coming to on hot, sandy slabs is enough of a trigger point to Steven Grant as they come. Coming to on hot, sandy slabs with weird astronauts in suits pointing space guns at him goes beyond frighting and circles back into 'Shit yourself' territory. Thankfully they seem to speak English. Unfortunately, his high pitched screams and babbling British noises don't make sense to them while they peer down their guns at him with confusion. It isn't until a booming voice draws everyone's attention that Steven gets a chance to breath.

+ Said breath is swiftly knocked back out of Stevens lungs when a wiser, nobler and older version of him walks into the room, commanding the attention of every single space soldier in the room. The man stares down at him as he lays huddled on the ground, curled into himself, and quirks a single well groomed eyebrow at him.

"I am Duke Leto of House Atreides. You have penetrated your way into my home. Who are you?"

"I-I-I'm S-Steven Grant. Of the... Giftshop."

The Duke continues his stony stare at Steven for a few seconds longer before holding out a calloused hand.

"Well Steven of the Giftshop, I think we both have many questions for one another, and hopefully some answers."

+ When Steven finally gets over being starstruck at the dignified, royal version of himself, and when Leto makes the accidental mistake of mentioning that they're billions of years in the future on another planet, Steven freaks out, having a 10 minute long panic attack. When that's over he geeks out instead, asking a million questions about technology, using apologies as commas and full stops.

"Do people still know about Khonshu in this era?!"

"I'm afraid I am not familiar with that name."

"Lucky sod."

+ Leto thinks the strange, weird sounding clone of himself is a schizophrenic long lost cousin, but at lease he isn't trying to kill him over a title. It's not as common in Arrakis, or the general noble courts, to find someone as earnest, honest and willing to learn as Steven seems to be, which earns him a surprising amount of respect from the Duke.

𝐏𝐨𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 (Star Wars)

+ Waking up in a space ship that's doing somersaults mid-battle while dodging and weaving around beams trying to explode it out of the sky was almost as stressful as waking up on a London bus at 8am. Commendably, Steven didn't scream or cry, but simply had a silent panic attack until a rolling white and orange ball started beeping at him, or rather the ridiculously handsome version of him currently flying the plane.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get on my cruiser?!"

"Bloody hell, not another handsome American me!"

"What?! BB-8, check for a concussion!"

+ After being given a water bottle by the polite little droid, Steven finally managed to calm himself down by the time the ship touch down and the pilot in matching droid colours sprang before him, launching question after question. When he clocked Stevens face, he was speechless, brows slowly knitting over his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him. Mid stare-down BB-8 nicked the Brits skin, running a quick diagnostic test and beeping the results out to the pilot who's eyebrows swiftly un-knitted at the noises.

+ Taking advantage of the silence, Steven tries to explain himself and his situation, insisting he comes in peace and simply wanted to get home before Donna got another excuse to give him the sack. The pilot finally introduced himself as Poe, the best pilot in the resistance at that, and with a sigh he promised to try and figure out how to get Steven back to whatever galaxy London was from.

+ Poe tries to explain the resistance and the empire to Steven, who in turn compares it to Ammits cult and jointly rants about those who take choice and freedom from the innocent. Poe is happy enough that his weird blood ancestor is with the resistance, even if he does constantly regard him with a quirked eyebrow, wondering how in the universe he managed to evolve from this walking concussion. For a second time Poe is rendered silent as Steven mentions being Moonknight.

"Oh yeah, I've done that too, at least those Jedi blokes doesn't send their jackals after you though!"

"You've... fought? In battle?"

"Course, yeah. Fought off giant gods back to the underworld, stopped the day of reckoning as the souls of the living were flooding the underworld. It was just the other day actually."

"...You killed god?!"

+ Steven absolutely adores BB-8 and Leia, a feeling the bot and all of the resistance seem to happily return, much to the dismay of Poe. Steven's quite flustered from all the attention and questions, leaving Poe to drag him away in a huff, claiming they need to get back to figuring out how to send him home. It feels like a babysitting gig more than anything, but deep down it strokes Poe's ego when Steven ooh's and ahh's at all his resistance tales.

[jevilowo]

I have an idea for an Omari Au

Instead of being a roleswap where Mari kills Sunny, it's like. Canon divergence.

So canon happens, Mari gets mad at Sunny for screwing up the song and throwing his violin down the stairs and Sunny accidentally pushes her. BUT! She doesn't land on the violin.

Basil still took photos and is still like "omg you killed Mari quick let's do an overcomplicated plan where we pretend she hung herself" and Sunny still goes along with it. But while they're setting up the noose, Mari wakes up.

She still got a massive bang on the head, but she didn't land on the violin so it wasn't fatal. She sees Sunny and Basil carrying her but she doesn't really know whats going on so she just mumbles their names. The two boys fucking PANIC and drop her and lowkey have breakdowns over how she isn't dead and oh my god we nearly actually killed her.

They drop Mari and Sunny tells Basil to go back inside and call an ambulance while he watches Mari, who in the meantime went unconcious again. Sunny sees the noose, still swinging there and he feels nothing but guilt over what happened.

On the spur of the moment, he decides he should punish himself. After all, he nearly killed his perfect older sister who did nothing but love him unconditionally. He hates himself.

He wonders what it would have felt like for her, and before he's processed what he's doing he's stepped up on a box and put his head through the noose.

He doesn't actualy mean to kill himself, but he slips off the box and the noose does its job. Mari comes to again, and what she sees of Sunny's hanging body from her angle on the ground becomes her Something.

When Basil sees what happened, he fucking skedaddles in panic. He has no idea what to do. So he does nothing.

Eventually the ambulance arrives and takes Mari and Sunny away.

Mari spends the three years Sunny spend hiding in canon in a coma. She had dreamspace explained to her enough by Sunny, and as the last things she saw were her brother, dreamspace kind of takes over her mind.

She still plays the role she did in canon: supporting from her picnic rug while the others go on adventures. In canon, Mari tries to make Sunny forgive himself, and in this Sunny is trying to make sure Mari stays oblivious to what happened as she doesn't remember and hate him.

However, Mari wakes up in the real world after the three years and that's where things start Occuring.

I haven't actually beaten the game yet myself (my puted deleted my progress when I was in Sweethearts Castle and I haven't felt like putting in another 6 hours since) but when I do (or watch a playthrough) I can develop further.

The dream before she wakes up is the same as canon, except as it's from Mari's picnicy POV the player doesn't see much. It's kind of similar to White Space in canon, Mari just roams between a toy piano, a computer and Mewo and there's a few cutscenes where she wonders why she's confined to the Picnic. Basil disappears (she sees this in like a vision sort of thing) and then she wakes up! Gasp!

She wanders her room in the hospital for a while, picks up an oversized syringe and even heads out into the corridor, but she's stopped by a nurse and she falls unconscious again.

Mari is still stuck at the Picnic back in the dream, saying nothing and smiling while her friends and Sunny talk (yeah he gets to talk here lol) about how they're going to help Sunny surpass his fear of heights, and then she's left alone again.

In this, whenever the party aproach a canon save point, the Picnic blanket crumples up with Mari and her things inside it, and it's dragged through a tunnel of sorts before popping out at the save point.

So on her second night, she decides to use her syringe to cut through the blanket and she does. She holds onto Mewo and the basket so while the blanket rolls off, she still has the cat and the ability to save her progress.

I'm not entirely sure what goes on from this point, but it likely involves Mari going on her oen adventures in these mysterious areas below the Headspace, maybe even having Stranger join her party at some point so they help each other figure out what's going on.

At the end of every night, Mari emerges from the tunnels and is found by her worried friends who take her back to the playground and she wakes up

The secon time Mari wakes up, Hero visits her in hospital where Kel did in canon, and he offers to sneak her out so she can see everyone. Really he's just desperate to talk to her again, and she isn't saying anything now and he thinks going outside may help. I'm thinking maybe he started interning at the hospital over the summer if he still was forced to go to medical school, and so knows how to sneak her in and out.

Like I said, not sure what happens from here but Basil feels even more guilty from contributing both to a death and a serious accident, Aubrey hasn't dyed her hair yet (she's waiting for Mari to wake up first) and Mari still doesn't say anything. She's amnesiac to be fair, and only remembers who Hero is from her dreams.

This whole au thing was inspired by me thinking about Mari as a character. We barely know anything about her other than that she was the perfect sister/girlfriend/mother figure to everyone. Maybe that's why she was a perfectionist. She was seen to be so perfect all the time and felt pressured to act that way.

Sunny's entire life revolved around her, they always spent time together and she's the reason he had friends in the first place. But what if Mari wasn't 100% fine with this? She loved her brother, sure, but maybe she just wanted something that was just hers. Not her boyfriend's, not Aubrey, Basil or Kel's and not even Sunny's.

Thus, the piano, and subsequently the recital. She got to be on her own for five minutes every day doing something she enjoyed (...to an extent, she got very frustrated when she fucked up) while her parents were forced to actually pay attention to Sunny for a while.

It's implied they were quite neglectful (didn't see Sunny drowning that one time, was away from the house long enough that the stairs and hanging incident went off without a hitch) and I'm sure this only added to Sunny's clingyness to Mari.

Which was why he got so upset that he couldn't spend time with her every second of every day when she started up with the piano. I'm not villainising him, obviously he was just a kid with neglectful parents, but I am saying that maybe he overreacted a little. Mari couldn't have been spending hours and hours at the piano everyday and even if she was he still had his other friends like right there, and he'd have more time with her after the recital.

So of course when he got upset and their friends started pointing it out Mari was all but obliged to include him somehow. Thus, the violin. And, perhaps, just a little resentment on Mari's end.

The violin that Sunny kept missing notes on. Mari was better at the song because she had practiced for longer, but it was easy to forget this when it kept happening. Over. And over. And over. And...

Eventually the resentment built up. Sunny was going to ruin her performance, the one she had put so much effort into practicing. Was he even trying?!

And so they argued, the violin was thrown, Mari shoved Sunny and he shoved back and–

We all know what happened.

So yeah the au idea came from my long long train of thought. Hope this ramble makes sense lol.

Oh yeah I'm thinking I might call this au like Kyojakuna (infirm), Konsui jōtai (comatose) Yowai (fragile, frail) or some variant bc Mari isn't a Hikikomori she's literally just stuck in hospital lol.

[raviostinkzz]

-Safe with us

Characters: Lee!Basil, Ler!Kel, Ler!Sunny (Fandom:Omori) Warnings: Tickle fic!!, mention of anxiety attack anything in this fic is strictly SFW and platonic!!

Summary: Basil needs help recovering from an anxiety attack and luckily, his comforting friends are there to support and give him something much happier to focus on. (Post true ending - no spoilers)

I love comfort tickles and I just think this trio is really nice for that (this is based off the hc I have where Basil is in the community ❤️🪴)

-REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED-

It was so hard to calm down. He just couldn’t get it out of his head, no matter what his thoughts traced back to it.

Basil clutched the fabric at his chest, heaving and smothering his face with his hand and sleeve in a panicked and frustrated attempt to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling.

Kel and Sunny had already been sat with him for a bit, making him feel guilty for struggling so much in front of them and that just made it even harder to relax.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. We’re here, nothings gonna happen, alright?” Kel rested a hand on Basil’s as he murmured, offering him a sense of security.

The teen scuttled over to sit closer to him, and leaned in to hug him gently. Basil didn’t say anything, just adjusting himself to fit better in the embrace and focusing on his friend’s warmth to help steady his breathing.

Kel continued, “If there’s anything we can do to help, just say.” And Sunny nodded his head in agreement.

The blonde-haired boy sat and spaced, half way between peace and a racing heart, pondering on what to say. Or if he should even talk at all. The silence seemed to beat the room like a drum after all his crying. Mimicking his nervous heartbeat and irritatingly harmonising with the hum of electricity creeping its way to his ears. The dried tears on his face itched. And he felt kind of sick. No…don’t focus on it.

He closed his eyes and held Kel’s hand tighter. The touch of another person guiding the sense of dread pooling in his gut away and out of him gradually.

As he settled, the shy boy fidgeted a little, bringing Kel’s wandering attention back onto him and inclining the daydreamer to lightly rub the sides and curves of his friend’s pale hand, in his way to reinsure that safety and reality. The sudden touch spread across his hand like a feather drifting along his skin, it was comforting and tingly, soothingly ticklish.

The corners of his lips ever so slightly wobbled themselves into a timid smile, and he reluctantly welcomed the new feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as he began to form an idea of what could offer the kind of distraction he needed. Basil shuffled slightly and moved his arm to hold his waist, now the tingling feeling of Kel’s affection seeping to the rest of his body.

His mind began to paint a different pattern of thoughts, now warm and comforting and lovingly vulnerable. He pressed his hand a little harder into his side in an attempt to rid himself of the ghostly presence leaking from his sudden fantasy, prickling goosebumps on his skin and causing a needy restlessness.

No matter his effort those phantom hands persisted the flustering touch, drifting their way up and down his shivering sides and dusting his cheeks a nearly unnoticeable tint of pink. The anxious boy knew what all this meant and was embarrassed to acknowledge it, but he knew it’d help. He knew his friends would be right there to do it and there was no way he could deny their sweetness. So he admitted, mentally, he now had a lee mood.

The desire, the want, the need- the need for fingers teasing at his skin, hands squeezing at his stomach, for his every spot to be tickled unpredictably and his every thought melted along with his heart. Oh, if only he could just be squirming and squealing with laught-

Soft spoken calls of his name punctured the daydream he was losing himself in, the voice becoming clearer each time it repeated itself.

“Basil? Hey!” Kel patted his hand, bringing him back down to earth once more. “Have you thought of something that could make you feel better?” Basil hesitated—because there was something, but it was way too embarrassing, and to make it worse, he knew his friends would be able tell.

He steadied his breathing and encouraged himself to respond,

“Well.. u-um could you do that…thing we talked about uh- the..y’know..” He stammered, his voice practically a whisper as he stared down at his shorts, pointlessly analysing every dust particle and hair strand accumulated in an excuse to escape eye contact.

The taller boy wracked his brain, before noticing Sunny holding his hands in front of him, scrunching his fingers with a playful yet caring expression on his face.

Kel realised. Thaaat. “Ohhhhh aw I get you! You want us to tickle you?” Kel smiled warmly, he really could comfort people with just his presence. But that didn’t stop Basil from flushing twice as deep, why did that word have to be so flustering?

“Ahah..uh. Yes.. please..Oh- only if you want to I-Ihi dohohon-wahahait I wahasnt rehead-AH KEHEhel nohohoho!!” Basil stuck his elbows to his sides, squirming and giggling in surprise as the taller boy suddenly began to squeeze at them. He was expecting a slower and gentler start, but supposed the surprise at least didn’t allow his brain any time to process and make room for negative thoughts.

He jerked once he felt ten fingers clawing at his ribs, losing his position and slumping limply down to the wooden floor he was once sat on. Kel chuckled, “Downnn we go!!” He sang, digging and vibrating his fingers into the bottom of Basil’s ribcage as they sank further. Adorable nasally cackles and snorts were practically pouring from the boy.

“Gosh, snorting already?” Kel teased, “You must be really ticklish!” With that, Basil could just feel the heat rise to his ears. Kel was hesitant to make too many remarks, after all he didnt want to overwhelm him, but the deep rose that accompanied the joyful dimples on his cheeks was just irresistible. And Basil knew he was just helping make things lighthearted.

Sunny shuffled over to Basil’s knees, sneaking his hands underneath and humbly dancing his fingertips along the ticklish hollows. The flower boy squeaked quietly, his frantic giggles rising and lowering randomly like sweet and cheerful hiccups. He shifted his legs up and down, unable to keep still but not exactly avoiding the fluttery sensations.

If anything, he tried to lean closer into them, the thought and feeling of something so affectionate and vulnerable warmed him. A sense of comfort and love trickling through his body like a soothing stream, Sunny’s approach of tickling was much softer than Kel’s, and the contrast of the sensations complimented each other greatly, somehow working every adorable sound Basil could make right out of him.

As flustering as it was, he couldn’t deny it was helping a lot, and he appreciated the warmth and connection it greeted him and his friends with.

Kel wandered his fingers down from Basil’s ribs, pausing for a moment to let the boy open an eye and see a mischievous grin peeking back at him, oh, and definitely not to let him see the slowly wiggling fingers gradually creeping their way under his shirt too!! Not at all!!

Basil squealed “KE-AGHHAH-KEHEHELL NOHOHOO” the blonde folded inwards the second Kel made contact and shot his arms down to hold his wrists as he attacked his bare tummy, his fingertips gliding over the sensitive skin which wobbled and caved adorably to the touch. He switched to light grabs and rapid squeezes, squidging in rhythm with Basil’s laughter as it rose and fell in excited panic.

As quickly as he picked up, Kel eased the tickles down slowly, opting to just gently trace along Basil’s stomach, and his laughter soon calmed down along with it. Just giggles and soft titters.

He didn’t want to go too overboard on his friend, the poor guy was trying to calm down in the first place after all. So he decided they should ease up a little. Kel twitched his shoulder at Sunny and gave him a smile as a signal to stop.

Basil continued to giggle, hugging himself with a big grin on his face. His hair was messy and ruffled, and his face flushed, completed by that adorable smile. He slowly opened his previously squeezed-shut eyes to see his two extrovert-and-introvert friends gazing at him with a certain look in their eyes.

“Whahat..?” The blonde asked, still giggling a little from the fingers Kel was absent minded-ly tracing on his stomach.

“You’re really endearing to us…” Sunny responded quietly with a smile.

Basil’s body lost all tension, his heart melting, how were his friends so loving to him? Sunny was only just warming back up to smiling again and what he’d said along with that smile had meant more than he could ever know. He felt so at home and safe.

Kel chimed in, “And your laugh is so nice to hear man…you need to laugh more often!” The tall boy chuckled, “…Or do we need to tickle you more?” he grinned mischievously and gave Basil’s stomach a few squeezes.

He squeaked and curled in on himself again, mustering up a giggly reply, “Ihi’d like that..”

————

hope you enjoyed idk i havent posted in ages dont punch me BYE

[ranger-ribbons]

So, here’s the thing, I saw the cute flower prompts and was trying to pick a few, but you know me and I know you soooo… can I get the whole garden (all ‘em!) for my boyos! (Dillon/Ziggy) 💚

I do, yes. You do know me very, very well! Thanks, babe! <3 /plat

(Dillon is a big, tough, macho man until Ziggy's around, then he turns into a big softie)

Big thank you to Estel, who gave me the prompt for Magnolia.

~

Agapanthus - Love Letter

Dillon grunts a greeting to his teammates as he passes, looking for food. It's been a long day for him, and he's actually hungry, so he's gonna eat while he has the opportunity. It's hard sometimes when all he can do is taste the salt and sugar in a meal, but it's what he's gotta do while the cybernetics in his system are slowly taking over.

"Dillon!" Scott calls, making Series Operator Black look up, annoyed. "Ziggy left something for you on the table. He said you'd like it."

Dillon raises an eyebrow but heads for the table anyway. "Thanks," he says to the Red. Ziggy's been gone on a solo mission with Flynn for a few days now, something to do with power cores and mechanical parts Doctor K needs.

Dillon finds a bag of candy and a piece of the pie Summer had baked a few days ago. Summer had said it had all been eaten, but Dillon knew better than to think Ziggy didn't squirrel some away. Dillon smiles. The pie is actually pretty good breakfast food, and Dillon is glad to see it.

Next to the food is a letter. It's adorned with little black and green hearts. They're Ziggy's way of showing his love. Dillon opens the note.

Dillon,

I asked Scott to give you this if the mission ran longer than they thought it would. Turns out, getting these parts takes longer than it's supposed to, who knew? Anyway, I know you don't like big gestures of affection, but I also know you like Summer's baking. So here's my sign of affection for the day.

Love,

Ziggy

Dillon smiles, folds up the note, and puts it in his pocket. It's not your usual love letter, like the ones Summer talks about on those soap operas she won't admit to liking, but it's adorable, and Dillon loves it.

~

Basil - Hate

Dillon stares at the Green Ranger, the one who had once captured his heart. He stares at the half-dead corpse taking up space on the testing table. Dillon stares as Ziggy Grover screams and cries.

Ziggy sobs, pleading for Dillon to let him go, to come back to himself, to stop hurting him.

Dillon watches apathetically, staring with sharp eyes. He doesn't love this man, not anymore. Dillon doesn't love him, no. He hates Ziggy Grover.

In fact, he thinks he's never hated anyone more. That's why he tortures Ziggy Grover.

~

Cactus - Passionate Love

Ziggy gasps as Dillon slips his tongue between the Green's teeth. The whole kissing thing is still pretty new to Ziggy, and the Green knows Black wouldn't remember kissing anyone anyway, but still Dillon kisses like he's been doing it his whole life. Like Ziggy is the only thing in this world that matters to him.

"You okay, Zig?"

A little moan falls off Ziggy's lips as Dillon's mouth attaches itself to the younger man's neck. "Yeah," he breathes. "Ju-just keep doing that."

Dillon chuckles. "Yes, sir."

~

Daphne - I Wouldn't Want You Any Other Way

"Dillon," Ziggy says, coming towards the Fury, where Dillon works on his precious baby in the garage.

Dillon looks up, setting down the wrench. "What's wrong, Zig?"

Ziggy comes closer, which isn't unusual, but he's hunching in on himself, one arm gripping the other at the elbow, and his too-long bangs are hiding his eyes. "Dillon, do I talk too much?" he asks softly.

Dillon knows immediately what happened. The other Rangers agents shy about telling Ziggy exactly what they think of him. They've all lived through the war, experienced the loss that comes with it, and completely forget that Ziggy is just as traumatized as the rest of them. He just deals with it in a different way.

"Am I annoying you?" Ziggy asks, voice trembling.

Dillon drops his tools right there on the ground. "No, Zig," he replies. He draws Ziggy into a tight hug and feels as the Green Rangers begins to sob. "No, I wouldn't want you any other way."

~

Echinacea - Strength and Health

Ziggy yelps as he gets thrown flat on his back once more. "Dammit!" he curses, head thunking back against the ground.

"You're getting better."

Ziggy groans, "It's not good enough. Scott, Sunmer, and Flynn have all been fighting for longer than me and you... Well, you're you."

Dillon chuckles, sitting in the grass. "You're doing really good. You're better than you used to be."

Ziggy sighs. He looks up at the clouds and watches them cross the sky lazily. "It doesn't feel like it," he admits after several minutes of silence.

Dillon lays next to Ziggy, looking up at the sky just the same. "You are," he promises. "It doesn't feel like it, but you are."

Ziggy hums. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this, Dil."

Dillon is silent for a while, then his hand grasps Ziggy's on the grass. "If you aren't, you can borrow my strength. You've got this, Zig. You're stronger than you know."

Ziggy grumbles, but his smile says everything. "Thanks, Dillon."

"Anytime, Zig."

~

Fern - Sincerity

"Ziggy, don't be stupid! Look at him, it's not Dillon right now!" Scott shouts across the battlefield.

Ziggy's axe is in his hands, reared back and ready to strike, but looking into the eyes of his target, Ziggy can't bring himself to do it. It's not that Ziggy loves Dillon so much, the thought of hurting him is staying Ziggy's hand - no, Ziggy's way too selfish for that.

It's the look in Dillon's eyes.

Normally, when Dillon gets taken over by Venjix, his eyes go dull. They lose all spark of life, any signs of warmth are suppressed, and they're just... dead. This... this is different. Dillon's eyes are warm and full of life.

"What are you waiting for?" Flynn shouts, flipping away from a Grinder's swing.

"Just do it!" Summer adds, charging her Zip Charger.

But Ziggy puts his axe away. "No," he murmurs. "I can't."

Because in Dillon's eyes, there's a sincerity that's never been there before and Ziggy can't bring himself to snuff it out.

~

Gardenia - Sophistication

I never went to prom, actually. The words echo in Dillon's mind. Who hasn't been to prom? Prom is one of the few things Dillon remembers clearly. He'd gone to his high-school prom with this firecracker of a boy Dillon had thought he could one day love. That boy reminds Dillon a lot of Ziggy, honestly.

Let it never be said that Dillon doesn't do things for his boy. He stands in a pure black suit that's been mended several times with his hair slicked back and a flower in his lapel because there's no boutonnieres in the apocalypse. Dillon hates how stuffy it is, but the stuffy feeling is worth it if it means Ziggy gets the night he deserves.

After all, Venjix was defeated a while ago, so they should celebrate at this point.

The sophisticated get up is just starting to really get to Dillon when he finally looks up and sees. Ziggy comes down the stairs in green, green, green and Dillon smiles.

"Hi," Ziggy says.

Dillon holds out a hand. "Hey," he murmurs.

It's just as powerful as "I love you."

~

Hibiscus - Delicate Beauty

Late at night, sometimes, when Ziggy can't sleep, he likes to watch Dillon. Dillon doesn't sleep much, so Ziggy has to be quiet anyway, and if Dillon wakes up, it usually leads to sex, which means that Ziggy doesn't really care either way, and it's his favorite time of the night.

Something about the way the moonlight hits Dillon from the window makes him look fragile. It's captivating and Ziggy wishes he could take a picture.

"You gonna stare all night?" Dillon asks without opening his eyes.

Ziggy laughs, snuggling closer. "What can I say, I like what I see."

~

Iberid - Indifference

It happened again. Dillon was overtaken by Venjix once more. Ranger Black fights against Scott, Summer, and Flynn with ferocity he only displays on the battlefield. However, he won't touch Ziggy. Ziggy can fight him, and he'll defend himself, but Dillon always escapes away to another part of the fight, back to Rangers Red, Blue, and Yellow.

Ziggy thinks that hurts more than Dillon getting taken over by Venjix again.

~

Jasmin - Amiability

"He's a little social butterfly, ain't he?" asks the man Dillon didn't bother to get the name of.

They sit together at a table in some ratty old bar Ziggy had recommended. Apparently he'd worked here once before Venjix. What kind of person would give a bartender job to a kid barely 17, Dillon doesn't know, but he guesses that doesn't really matter.

"Yeah, I guess so," Dillon replies, knocking back his shot and signaling the bartender for another.

Ziggy is fluttering from table to table, a little drunk, but no less aware. For Ziggy to be only a little drunk in the three hours they've been here is a feat all of its own. Ziggy is an extrovert (according to Doctor K) and he likes people, so it's easier for him to get drunk when people think he's cute and buy him shots.

The stranger pours himself another drink from the whiskey bottle in front of him. He knocks the shot back, then asks, "He yours?"

Dillon smiles, downing the shot the bartender sets in front of him and putting a hand over his glass when the bartender makes to pour the third drink. "Thanks," Dillon says to the barman. Then he turns back to the stranger. "Yeah," he says with a brilliant smile, "he's mine."

~

Kalanchoe - Persistence and Eternal Love

It's been years, too many years, since Dillon took off in the Fury after nearly killing Ziggy in a PTSD fit. Ziggy's been looking for him ever since.

It isn't Dillon's fault that Ziggy had been having a bad day, nor is it Dillon's fault that Ziggy chose to take it out on the backyard fence. Dillon had come home and seen Ziggy with a pipe in hand and the flashbacks kicked in. Dillon was doing the only thing he thought he could do, which was to eliminate the threat. It's not Dillon's fault, but still he felt it was. Ziggy's been trying to track Dillon down every single day since.

It's almost six years to the day when Dillon left that Ziggy finally tracks his husband down.

Dillon sits in a jailcell with his head down. His hair's been cut and his eyes are dull. His nose is crooked and still leaking blood, but he's still the most handsome man on this gods-forsaken planet. "Dillon," Ziggy murmurs as the guard leads him to the cell.

Dillon flinches, but doesn't look up.

"You got five minutes," the guard warns, then he heads back out the door.

Ziggy looks at the Black Ranger in front of him. "Dillon, what happened?" he asks, putting his hands on the bars. "Talk to me, please."

"Shouldn't you be at home," Dillon asks gruffly, still not looking up.

Ziggy frowns. "No, my place is with you. Please, Dillon, talk to me."

"Ziggy, please," Dillon says, finally looking up. One eye is black, and the other has deep bags under it, making Ziggy believe Dillon hasn't slept in days. "Don't make this any harder for me that it already it."

"Tough shit," Ziggy snaps back, eyes going sharp. "We're married. I love you. You abandoned me, now the least you could do is talk to me and tell me why." His eyes go soft once more. "Please, Dillon. I love you. Just talk to me."

Dillon hesitates, then sighs. "Alright."

~

Lantana - Strictness

"No," Dillon snaps, grabbing Ziggy's belt and holding fast. "You know damn well you aren't allowed to throw yourself needlessly into any kind of danger."

Ziggy curses, squirming in Dillon's hold. "Lemme go, Dillon!" he curses.

"No."

Ziggy groans. "You and your rules."

~

Magnolia - Dignity

Dillon storms through the base, a letter in his hand and a snarl curling his lip upward. He stalks past Scott and Summer, past Flynn and the twins. He only stops once he stands in front of a door with green letters labeling it as Ziggy's room. Dillon knocks roughly on the door.

Ziggy opens the door and pokes his head out. He smiles. "Hey, Dillon. Come on in!" The door creaks open and Ziggy disappears behind it.

Dillon slips inside the room and closes it behind him. He breathes out a sigh. "Zig, we gotta talk," he says.

Ziggy bops his head in agreement, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What's up?" he asks.

Dillon only hesitates a second, wondering if he should tell his boyfriend what happened. Ziggy needs to know, he tells himself. "This came for you today," Series Operator Black says, handing over the letter.

Ziggy raises an eyebrow, taking the letter. He reaches for the flap, and pauses when he sees what Dillon's done. "You opened it," he says factually. When Dillon nods, Series Operator Green swallows nervously, and slowly pulls open the envelope. The pictures fall out first, the ones that show Ziggy in undignified ways. The ones where Ziggy is naked and looks terrified.

Ziggy goes quiet. "Where did you get these?" he asks in a quiet, shaky voice.

Dillon shakes his head. "Some guy with a scorpion tattoo gave them to me. Said they were from Fresno Bob."

"Fresno Bob wouldn't do this," Ziggy snaps, voice full of venom and fire. "He wouldn't do this to me!"

Dillon nods, though he's not so sure Fresno Bob wouldn't do something like this. Most cartel and mafia bosses are all the same, and Dillon wouldn't put anything past any of them.

Ziggy makes a terrified noise, biting back a sob. "These are supposed to be gone," he whispers. The pictures get tossed to the floor. Some many of them feature Ziggy covered in various body fluids and blood.

"I can destroy them for you, if you want, Zig," offers Dillon, fully ready to rip the pictures into shreds and light the remains on fire.

Ziggy nods and Dillon snaps up the pictures, shredding them into pieces without a second thought. Then he grabs all the pieces and puts them in Ziggy's trashcan. "I'm gonna take this now," he says, indicating the trashcan with a shake of his head, "and you don't have to worry about it anymore. Okay?"

Ziggy nods. Dillon sits on the edge of the bed with him and hugs him tightly. If Fresno Bob ever comes back, Dillon will tear him apart like the pictures.

~

Narcissus - New Beginnings

Dillon looks out into the desert, surveying the dust and dirt, watching tumbleweeds blow by. He watches the world around him move. His bones still ache with the weight of the cybernetics that Doctor K couldn't remove, but with most of the cybernetics gone, Dillon finally feels like he can breathe again. Dillon listens to the wind, the sounds of static on the radio, the silence that settles in the cab of Dillon's car.

The car door opens and the car rocks lightly before the car door closes. "Alright! Where are we headed?"

Dillon smiles without looking up. He reaches for the car keys in the ignition and turns the key smoothly. The car sputters to a start and the motor purrs. "Anywhere we want," Dillon replies, glancing to the passenger seat.

Ziggy grins, leaning back and buckling the seat belt. "Let's go, Dil," he says.

Dillon smiles back, turns back to the road, and puts the car in gear.

~

Orchid - Refined Beauty

Ziggy whistles. "Now that is a nice-looking vehicle," he says appreciatively, looking at the beautiful yellow motorcycle Summer had brought home when her first one crashed into some Grinders at 70 miles per hour.

Dillon agrees with a slow, "Mm-hm."

Glancing at each other, Dillon and Ziggy both simultaneously agree not to tell Summer, snag the keys off the bar table, and zoom out of the garage without a backwards glance. She'll find out eventually, but until then, they'll have their fun.

~

Peony - Anger

"Don't touch me!" Ziggy snaps, knocking Dillon's hand off his shoulder.

"Zig," Dillon tries to say.

Series Operator Green shakes his head vigorously. Dillon shuts his mouth for fear of Ziggy making his concussion worse. "You don't get to be all sad and upset over this right now!" Ziggy says firmly. Her eyes blaze with restrained anger. "You're the one who did this! How many times did you tell me that I can handle myself? Then you go an' try to protect me in a fight I can handle myself! What the hell were you thinking, Dillon, huh?"

"Ziggy, I... I..." Dillon doesn't answer fast enough for Ziggy, apparently, because Ziggy only gets more upset.

Ziggy sits up, the bruises on his face shining dully in the low lighting. "Your dumbass decided to protect me and got me hurt in the process because I was so worried about protecting you because you LEFT YOURSELF OPEN TO ATTACKS!" Ziggy yells.

Dillon tries to speak, to tell Ziggy that he doesn't know what happened, that he'd really meant to stay in his lane and give Ziggy the space to be the fighter Dillon knows he can be. The words get stuck in his throat and Dillon can't speak them.

Ziggy scoffs. "Get out," he says, eyes filling with tears. "I don't want to see you right now."

"Ziggy..." Dillon tries to say.

"GET OUT!" Ziggy roars, grabbing the spare pillow and tossing it at Dillon with unnerving accuracy.

Dillon ducks, making a hasty retreat before Ziggy's patience ran out. "I'm sorry," he whispers as he closes the door behind him. The only answer he hears is a choked sob.

~

Quince - Perseverance During Adversity

"Ziggy?" Dillon asks, quietly opening the door.

"Get out!" Ziggy shouts back, just like he does every time, still angry at Dillon and unwilling to talk. "I don't want to see you! Get! Out!"

But Dillon is prepared this time. He comes in anyway. "I'm not leaving, Ziggy. Not this time."

"I don't want to talk to you," Ziggy replies, voice full of venom and fire.

"Well, too bad," Dillon replies. "Cause I want to talk to you." He comes closer. Ziggy glares at him beneath his too long bangs. Tears glitter in hazel eyes. Betrayal that hits hard, even though it's not really betrayal. Dillon sighs, "Ziggy."

"Say what you're gonna say and get out," Ziggy snaps coldly.

Dillon decides it's better to show than tell. He takes a chip out of his pocket and sets it on Ziggy's side table. "Doctor K found that in my neck when she checked me over after the battle. She said it was programmed to make me recklessly protective."

Ziggy looks at the chip with disgust. Then realization dawns on him, and he looks up at Dillon. "Someone put that in you?" he asks.

Dillon nods.

Ziggy's face falls and he scrubs a hand down his cheeks. "I'm such an idiot," he says regretfully. Looking up at Dillon, Ziggy continues, "I'm sorry. I should've known better."

Dillon shakes his head. "It's okay. You were hurt. I'm sorry too."

Ziggy offers a little smile. "Thanks, Dil."

~

Rose - Love

Of the many things Ziggy loves about Dillon, his lack of self-preservation is not one of them. "Dillon," he says, snappish and angry. "You're not allowed to throw yourself into dangerous situations either."

"Ziggy," Dillon warns, voice rough.

"No," Ziggy growls, stomping forward until he's toe-to-toe with Dillon, staring up the several inches between their heights. "You listen!" he demands. "Because you can't seem to get it through you're thick skull that I care about you, you idiot!"

Dillon, stunned silent, says nothing. He lets Ziggy stare up at him with sharp eyes and doesn't move, doesn't speak.

"I love you, you absolute dumbass," Series Operator Green says. "I love you, and you're not allowed to do dangerous things. I love you, and you're not allowed to leave me behind while you go off and play hero, like a dumbass."

Dillon's lips twitch upward.

"I love you," Ziggy continues, "and I couldn't stand it if you left me, so don't fucking leave me!"

Dillon sweeps Ziggy into a tight hug, which cuts off Ziggy's next words. "I love you, too, Ziggy."

~

Sage - Good Health and Long Life

"So," Ziggy whispers, "it's gone?"

The doctor nods, making a few notes in Ziggy's chart. "That's correct, Mr. Grover, the cancer has fully cleared and your cells are working at a normal rate. I'd like to get some blood work and scans, but you are officially in remission, Mr. Grover. Congratulations," the doctor replies, looking up with a smile.

Ziggy smiles, biting back a choked sob, then unable to help the next. Next to him, Dillon squeezes Ziggy hands. "Congrats, Zig," Dillon murmurs, pulling Ziggy into a hug.

Ziggy laughs through his sobs, face buried in Dillon's shoulder. If Dillon minds that his shirt is suddenly soaked, he doesn't say. Ziggy cries, Dillon holds him, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

~

Trillium - Modest Beauty

"Damn Ziggy, you look good!" Summer compliments from the couch, arm thrown around Flynn.

Ziggy grins. "You like it?" he asks, twirling around. He's wearing a cute green skirt that he'd picked up on one of their last trips to the clothing store. It had called to him on the rack. It was pretty modest, high waist, and the hem just under his knees, not exactly what Ziggy usually would wear, but-

"You look gorgeous," Dillon murmurs, arms wrapping around Ziggy's waist. "Beautiful."

Ziggy grins, twisting to meet Dillon's eyes with a smile. "Thank you," he says softly.

Dillon nods.

~

Ursinis - Trickery

"Dillon!" Ziggy shouts, skidding to a stop in front of Series Operator Black. "Dillon, we gotta go! Boxarok captured Scott, Flynn, and Summer, we gotta go save them!"

Dillon blinks, shaking his head. He looks at Ziggy and nods. "Yeah," he replies. "Let's go!" But something about his voice is off.

"Dillon, before we go," Ziggy says, paranoia born of dealing with people who would sooner trick and kill him. "What's my deadname?"

Dillon blinks, then gives the answer without hesitation. It's wrong. Of course it is. Ziggy never told Dillon his deadname, Dillon didn't care to know. Ziggy's eyes fill with tears. "Dillon," he whispers.

Dillon's face suddenly stretches into an unnatural smile. "That's not the right answer is it?" he asks.

Ziggy shakes his head, stepping back.

Dillon sighs, "Dammit." He lifts a hand and clicks his fingers. Ziggy's world goes black.

~

Vervain - Pray For Me

"Oh, god," Ziggy mumbles over comms. "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god."

"Ziggy?" Dillon asks, concerned.

"I'm over the vent," Ziggy replies. "I see Venjix. God, if this doesn't work..." Ziggy doesn't have to finish the sentence. If this doesn't work, Ziggy will probably be dead.

"It's gonna be okay, Zig," Dillon assures him, though he's not even sure himself.

"Pray for me," Ziggy whispers. "Here we go."

~

Waterlily - Birth and Resurrection

Ziggy grumbles under his breath, listening to the preacher go on and on about the birth and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He hates churches, they're always so stuffy and full of hypocrites and assholes.

~

Dillon makes an agreeing noise at Ziggy's side. "I know," he murmurs. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

Ziggy nods, sinking deeper in his seat. "This is stupid. Why did Mom want to meet here?"

Dillon snorts softly. "Who knows. The hardcore religious people won't ever make sense to me."

Ziggy snorts. Then, he leans closer. "Thanks for coming with me," he says.

Dillon smirks back. "I had to," he replies teasingly. "You can't stay outta trouble by yourself."

Ziggy almost interrupts the sermon with how hard he laughs.

~

Xeanthemum - Eternity and Immortality

A little known fact about the Morphin Grid? It offers its Rangers immortality. It's the one thing that Ziggy hates, even all these years later.

He and the other RPM Rangers meet up every couple years, but Dillon hasn't been seen in several years now. Scott, Summer, and Flynn think he must've finally pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Ziggy knows better. Ziggy would feel it if Dillon had died.

So he's not shocked in the slightest when Dillon strolls over in the middle of one of the RPM meet-ups, twists a spare chair backward, and sits in it casually. Leaning forward, Dillon steals a French fry off Ziggy's plate and hums, "These are good."

Scott, Summer, Flynn, and the twins are all a little shocked. It's been years since any of them had seen Dillon, but here he is. Alive and well.

Ziggy smiles, grabbing Dillon's hand. With a serious look, his face falls, and Ziggy says, "You're telling me where you went." It's a fact, not a request.

Dillon nods. "And I'll spend the rest of eternity making it up to you," he promises.

~

Yellow Bell - Rebirth

Dillon opens his eyes after the surgery, stares up at the white ceiling. He looks around at the hospital room with confusion.

"Welcome back, Dillon," says Doctor K, going by Krishana now that she's finally found her name from before. "Your surgery was mostly successful. As I thought, we were unable to remove all the pieces and hardware, but aside from the six piece in too deep to safely remove, you are free of your hybrid parts."

Dillon smiles. A hand squeezes his. "How do you feel?" asks Ziggy, there with Dillon in the aftermath, as promised.

Dillon hums, looking at Ziggy with loving eyes. "Reborn."

~

Zinnia - Lasting Affection

Dillon and Ziggy aren't particularly affectionate people in public, but that doesn't mean they aren't affectionate at all.

Dillon hugs Ziggy close as they walk down the street. Keeping Ziggy close is always a good thing. "You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," Ziggy replies. "More than."

Dillon smiles, and they continue walking.

Happy birthday!! @estel-eruantien

[cringelordofchaos]

Ok I have an omori au idea brewing up in here

Basically it's pretty much like "omari". Basically omori plotline except Mari killed sunny not the other way around

But there is different angst potential. Mari is someone who deeply loves and cares for others, especially her younger brother. She's always there for others when they need her. So to think of her failing to protect Sunny... Yeah...

But honestly I see Mari as a kind of an honest person. To face the truth. I find her to be brave and reliable. Obviously the truth is horrifying but unlike Sunny who's head was always sort of outside this world and he made up a whole imaginary land for himself to escape to I feel like Mari would be more open to facing the truth. (Plus the name Mari literally means "truth""

So I don't think Mari would have a headspace? Idk

But I also thought of ghost sunny

You know how there's ghost Mari in the actual game?

So yeah

Ghost sunny in my au still has a white space, he still doesn't face reality and doesn't know of he truth. He doesn't know that he was killed. He doesn't know that he's not alive.

At first, he did know he died, but he started hallucinating this figure we'll call "Someone" for now, and Someone made sunny believe that he never died, he always lived in the white space, etc etc. That he never had any friends before Someone.

I also made someone an actual character. Someone is manipulative of Sunny and tries desperately to make him believe the white space is the best place for him and hat he's always lived there because Someone is a person Sunny made up because sunny hates being alone. If sunny sees his friends someone might disappear. Someone can't let this happen so Someone needs sunny to be dependent on them.

Sunny doesn't really remember anything from his life, but his fear of heights, stairs and spiders remain. He is also easily triggered by loud noises, anger and general conflict because of the tension in his last argument with Mari. He hates being overwhelmed. Someone takes that to their advantage and whenever Sunny doesn't listen to Someone or tries to face the truth if he dares, Someone will act angry to scare him, and then instantly comfort him and be nice to him so he can trust them.

Someone actually starts caring a bit about Sunny after some time, they actually start feeling bad for them, but they still put their need for survival above all else. Their empathy is irrelevant.

Sunny always has a cat plushie that Mari gave him when they were both younger. The plushie mari gave him right before going to her first school trip. Sunny doesn't want her to go because he wont have her to go to when having s nightmare. So she decides to give him a plushie and tell him that whenever he feels scared and he's alone, that he can just hug the plushie. The plushie is like a part of Mari. Something from Mari to sunny. Ghost sunny in the future still holds onto this plushie. He doesn't know why he has it but whenever Someone isn't around, he holds onto the plushie.

Ghost sunny at one point starts gaining back his memories. When he realized what Mari accidentally did to him he is a bit scared of her and not as easily forgiving as Mari would be.

When he first visited the real world after s long time, although he didn't recognize any of his friends too much, he still felt scared around Mari.

Basil is hella depressed. He doesn't speak to anyone. He barely ever goes outside. Whenever someone tries talking to him he doesn't utter a word. He knows exactly what happened to Sunny. Including all the details. He can't let anyone know. He once impulsively cut Maris and Heros signature plants out of pure grief and now he regrets it deeply. He wants to forgive them but it's hard because he just wants everything to go back to normal but it can't and he's angry. Few people like Aubrey and kel, and even Mari tried tj comfort him but he avoids everyone, he really doesn't want to talk to anyone.

Ghist Sunny is still scared of the truth. He still tries denying that he's dead even if subconsciously. Someone helps him forget.

Kel tries helping everyone but just like in the actual game he feels like he's not helping and everyone is pushing him away so he just tries to make a new life after a while

Hero feels like he doesn't deserve that nickname. Mari still calls him hero from time to time, whether it be as a slip up or because she Genuinely sees him as "hero" and no one else, but hero just wants to be called Henry

Hero helped Mari hide Sunny's body. They both blame themselves.

Also, sunny died either by A: Mari accidentally pushing sunny of the stairs, or B. Mari failing to save sunny from drowning. Or something third. Either way it has something to do with Mari.

Mari will still try to make a smile for all her friends and family because she doesn't want anyone to be weak. She wants to encourage everyone to be accepting of their life and stuff. But when she's alone she sometimes has attacks. Her guilt and the failure of her being incapable of saving her brother like she was supposed to haunts her forever. Was she too pushy? Was she not good enough? She want worried about herself as much as she missed Sunny though.

Sunny is still somewhat of a hikikomori because most ghosts generally visit their loved ones from time to time, even though they can't usually see them, but Sunny is one of the few ones that stay in the white space at all times. Hes afraid of what might be outside of the white space because Someone made them believe it's not as safe as it is here. (Every dead person has a "white space" in this au. It's basically a form of an afterlife.)

Sunny still has a "something". But this something represents his death that Someone constantly tries to hide away from Sunny. But when Sunny is all alone and focuses hard enough in his surroundings, he sees a creepy figure, a reminder of truth of what happened to his life, that someone is a liar. Sunny doesn't know what Something is really but it sure creeps him out. He tries staying alongside Someone just so he doesn't have to see Something.

Someone's general personality is a mix of Sunny's friends (Mari, Basil, Kel, Aubrey, Hero).

Someone manipulates sunny into believing that his past friends should be feared. That he's better off alone.

At times Mari and Basil can actually SEE ghost sunny but they might or might not be imagining him.

Ghost sunny is a much more nervous, scared easily overwhelmed individual. His fear of loudness, heights and spiders (and especially swimming/water) remain. (Wait did I already write this down?? My lack of memory is really showing itself to the world right now)

Ok there's more but I'm too lazy to write it down oop

Yeah

[luckyroll3]

Crimson Lights: Chapter 23

Masterlist

The sizzle of garlic hitting the hot pan is unusually comforting. It feels like an inadequate attempt to muffle the silence stretching between Changbin and me. He stands in the doorway to the kitchen, his imposing frame looking out of place against the backdrop of my cozy kitchen.

"Smells good," Changbin says, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate through the space. “I thought you couldn’t cook.”

“I don’t like to cook,” I say, correcting him. “Big difference.” He grins as I stir in the tomatoes for the pasta sauce and then motion to the simmering pot. "I'm making spaghetti. There's plenty if you want to stay for dinner."

He hesitates, the lines on his forehead deepening as if he is solving a puzzle in his head. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," I say, trying to mask the tremble in my voice with a smile. "It's just dinner, Binnie."

His eyes search mine, dark and intense. It has been two days since the incident at the warehouse and also two days since Changbin and I had sex. Since then, Felix and Hyunjin had each stopped by with excuses about why Binnie couldn't visit himself. Two days of wondering if we’d made a huge mistake.

"Kay," he begins, stepping closer, his scent—a mix of leather and something distinctly him—filling the air around me. "I've been keeping my distance because... well, after we, you know, and you cried, I didn't want to push you. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

My heart stutters, then recommenced its rapid beat. I set the wooden spoon down beside the stove and face him fully. "I appreciate that, Changbin, but avoiding me altogether? That's not necessary. We’re still friends, right?"

"Right. Maybe it wasn’t necessary," he admits, scratching at his neck, a gesture that betrays his discomfort. "But there's more. Lauren's pissed at me for bailing on her that same night."

"Lauren? You didn’t tell her you were here that night?" I look him in the eyes, curious.

“No,” he responds, “because then I’d also have to tell her about what happened between us.” Changbin's eyes drop from mine, and he shook his head. "But I did tell Chan."

The name is a punch to the gut, bringing a fresh wave of conflicting emotions. Chris, who both tethers me to this world and makes it spin uncontrollably. He hasn’t tried to contact me since that first night. He’s giving me space and I appreciate that.

"What did he say?" I ask eagerly, my voice steadier than I feel.

"Chan..." Changbin pauses and squints his eyes. "I can tell he’s taking it harder than he’s willing to let on. But he says he’s fine with it and just glad that I can be there for you when you need someone. He cares about you, Kay, more than you know."

I absorb his words, letting them settle over the sounds of bubbling sauce and the faint hum of the refrigerator. I’ve never doubted that Chris cares for me, so this information doesn’t do anything to help soothe my anguish. I glance up at Changbin, whose eyes now hold a cautious hope.

"Thanks for sharing," I murmur, uncertain of everything but the fact that Binnie is waiting for something—perhaps for me to either close the distance between us or to push him away entirely. But for now, the only thing I knew for certain is that the sauce needed stirring, and I turn back to the stove, leaving our truths and uncertainties simmering alongside it.

As I continue to stir the pot, the steam carries the rich aroma of tomatoes and basil. Changbin leans back against the kitchen counter with his arms crossing his chest.

"Have you thought about talking to Chan yet?" he asks.

I lift the lid from the spaghetti to take a peak, watching the long noodles swirl in the boiling water. "I haven't, no. I don’t think I’m ready." The words come out more clipped than I intend.

Changbin's brow furrows, the lines deepening with concern. "He's struggling without you," he says softly. "Chan is...he's a wreck."

The knowledge twists in my chest, but I can't bring myself to face Chris yet—not when my own emotions are so tangled. "I need more time, Binnie. The images of what I saw are still running through my head. And every time I think about him, I see his fist raised to hit me.” I drop my voice to a whisper as I continue, “I need more time. That's all I can say right now."

He nods, understanding in his dark eyes. Silence falls between us, punctuated only by the bubbling pots and occasional clink of utensils.

"Have you thought about...us?" Changbin asks after a moment, his gaze intense. "About that night?"

His question sends a ripple through me as I recall the intimacy we shared—unexpected and intense. "Yes, I've thought about it," I admit, my voice still barely above a whisper. "It was emotional, but...it meant something to me. More than I expected."

"More?" he probes gently, daring to step closer.

"More," I confirm, meeting his eyes. There was an earnestness there, a vulnerability that echos my own. "My feelings for you…they're deeper than I realized."

In the dim light of the kitchen, the world seems to shrink until it is just Changbin and me. But before Changbin can respond, the pot with the pasta boils over.

“Shit!” I say, as I rush to turn the burner down. Changbin walks to the sink and tears off a few rectangles of towel paper and hands them to me to soak up the spilled water. “This is why I don’t like to cook!” I laugh, trying to ease the tension between us.

“This is why I order out,” he replies in jest. As he laughs, he opens the cabinet and takes out two large dinner plates and sets them down on the counter. Then he retrieves two beer bottles from the fridge, opening them and handing one to me.

“Thanks,” I say as I take a sip, noticing him watching me as I do. I can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. I don’t either. Instead, I turn back to the stove and add some more spices to the sauce, stirring slowly.

About 5 minutes later, I’m sharing the food out on the plates Changbin has set out for us and we transition to the couch. We eat in silence, which is unusual for the two of us. As we steal glances from each other, I attempt to break the tension.

“Whatever happened to the real estate you just purchased? Have you started rebuilding yet?” I ask, as I take a sip of my beer.

“Uhm, yeah. We just started last week. We also locked in tenants for each of the spaces, so we’re already ahead of schedule.”

“That’s good,” I say. I bring a meatball to my mouth and start chewing slowly.

“How about you? How’s everything going at the clinic? Is the new vet tech working out okay?”

“She is. The place she worked at previously specialized in reptiles and we didn’t have anyone else with that experience.”

“Reptiles, huh?” he says, his curiosity clearly piqued. “I’ve kinda always wanted a bearded dragon. Or an iguana.” He grins.

I laugh. “You seem like the bearded dragon type.”

“What makes someone a bearded dragon type?” he asks after a sip of his beer.

“I don’t know,” I say, turning on the couch to face him as I bring one knee up and keep the foot of my other leg placed on the ground. “The guys who usually have bearded dragons as pets are very much like them - they look tough on the outside, but are all soft and gooey on the inside.” I place my empty plate on the coffee table.

“Hey!,” he shouts feigning offense. “I’m tough all over! Outside and in!” He demonstrates by showing off his huge biceps and flexing his pecs, alternating from the right to the left one.

I laugh. “Sure you are, Binnie. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you cry when Spiderman gets snapped out of existence in Infinity War.”

He glares at me. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell other people about it. It’s fair game as ammunition though!” I lean closer to him and whisper, “I also know that Mr. ‘Tough All Over’ is extremely ticklish.” I launch my attack and start tickling his sides, just below his armpits.

Changbin starts giggling uncontrollably, then starts shouting, “Why you little…..” as he tries to squirm away while grabbing at my arms.

“Tickle master?” I finish for him as I laugh along, continuing my assault.

He finally catches both of my wrists in his hands and holds them in place. “Not exactly the words I would use…” he says firmly, although the smile on his face betrays his true emotions.

We both catch our breath as we stare at each other. I try to tug out of his grip as I ask, “And what words would those be?” I cock my head to the side, daring him to say something out of pocket.

Our faces inches apart, I watch as his gaze moves from my eyes down to my lips and back up again. The intensity of his gaze causes me to hold my breath.

His fingers flex against my wrists, his grip strong, but not painful. His gaze drifts from my eyes to my lips once more, and I feel the heat of his breath against my skin. I part my lips slightly in anticipation, wondering what he’s going to do next.

Without warning, he presses his lips to mine, sucking on my bottom lip before easing his tongue into my mouth. Then just as suddenly, he breaks the connection as he drops my arms, sits back, and takes a deep breath.

The air in the room seems thicker now, charged with an electric energy that has been building up over the past few days, since that morning when we’d crossed the line meant to keep us solidly in the friend zone.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “That surprised me probably just as much as it surprised you….”

I don't respond with words. Instead, my hand finds his cheek, and I pull him towards me to meet my lips again. The kiss is a silent conversation, a blend of all the unsaid things that linger in the air around us. It deepens quickly with a hunger that surprises us both, a testament to the hidden currents that have been pulling us inexorably together.

The kiss breaks only for the necessity of breath, our foreheads resting against each other as we share the same air. My hands roam over the contours of his muscular shoulders, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. I want to ease it, to lose myself in the solace we can find in each other's arms. I shouldn’t, I think to myself as I watch him. We shouldn’t. We shouldn’t do this again. But I can’t stop touching him, caressing him, thinking about when he was inside me. When his tongue flicks out of his mouth to lick his bottom lip, something in me snaps.

In one fluid motion, I rise from my space on the couch and move to straddle him. His hands settle at my waist, a silent question lingering in the intensity of his eyes.

"Yes," I answer the unspoken ask, sealing my consent with another kiss that sweeps us both into a fervent tide.

Clothes become inconsequential barriers discarded with an urgency fueled by the raw need to feel skin against skin. The world outside ceases to exist as I sink down onto his hard cock, our bodies merging with a synchronicity that feels both primal and profoundly intimate. I press my cheek against his, my mouth open and moaning as Changbin bounces me up and down on him as he simultaneously thrusts upwards.

His mouth latches onto mine fiercely, a silent demand for reciprocity that I am all too eager to give. Our hands roam, grasping, pulling, exploring every inch of each other, as our tongues collide.

As I ride him, the pleasure builds within me, radiating from where we're joined. Changbin's groans mingle with my gasps, harmonizing into a symphony of passion that resonates through the quiet apartment. His tongue traces my jawline as we continue, and his hands cup my ass cheeks, massaging them gently.

He makes a low noise in the back of his throat as I grind down on him, taking him deeper inside me with each thrust. The friction causes sparks of pleasure to ignite between my legs and I moan into his neck.

Our lips find each other again and we kiss hungrily, tongues dancing against each other's mouths. The taste of garlic from dinner mixes with the salty sweetness of our kisses, leaving a unique flavor behind. His skin is smooth beneath my nails as I dig them into his pecs, feeling his hardened nipples beneath.

Changbin groans deeply into my ear. I can feel his heartbeat increasing rapidly against my chest as he holds onto my hips tightly. I gasp when he slips a hand between us, finding my clit and rubbing with his middle finger. A wave of pleasure washes over me, making me bite down on his shoulder to muffle the sound. He growls lowly in response, pushing himself even deeper inside me.

Our rhythm becomes almost feverish. We pant against each other’s mouths, gasps and small cries echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Each movement sends shockwaves coursing through us both. I feel like I can stay like this forever - lost in the embrace with no outside world existing anymore.

My body starts to tremble and I can feel Changbin's muscles tense beneath me. We're both close now, reaching the peak of pleasure together. And as we both reach our climax, we both cry out expletives, our bodies trembling and convulsing with ecstasy.

As we slow our motions to a stop, I run my fingers through his hair, tracing the curve of his scalp with tender caresses. He grazes his fingers down my spine, sending shivers skittering across my skin. Our bodies are still joined and I can feel his heart beating against my chest, the rhythm matching the cadence of my own heart. I lean forward, pressing my lips to his neck, inhaling his scent.

Without a word, Changbin stands from the couch, lifting me effortlessly with him. He carries me to the bedroom as if I were something precious. The cool sheets welcome us as we fall into them, lost again in the fervor of our connection.

I am surprised when I feel his dick, still inside of me, start to get hard again almost immediately. “Really?” I ask playfully.

He leans in and kisses me softly, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “I just can’t get enough of you,” he whispers against my lips. “And I don’t know how much longer I’ll get to keep you…”

I melt into his touch and we kiss passionately once again. He begins to move in and out of me. But this time it’s slow and gentle, not quite matching the frantic pace of before, but still deeply sensual. He looks deep into my eyes, searching for something, before he brings his lips to mine again. This kiss is just as slow as the movements of his body, but equally as fiery, passionate.

It feels different from the encounter we had moments before. It’s as if he’s trying to pour all his feelings, all his emotions into me with each stroke. This is more than just sex. He’s making love to me and I’m not sure how to feel about it. It causes me to think about Chris, and I find it difficult to stay in the moment with Changbin. I turn my head to the side to look at anything but him.

He brings me back to him with another kiss to my cheek, as he reaches his hand for my neck and rolls my face back to him, before pushing my chin upwards, forcing me to look at him. His eyes lock onto mine again, and I can see the hunger there, the need to possess me in a way that goes beyond physical desire.

I feel him stiffen inside me and I know that he’s about to cum again. I pull his head to my neck and he latches on to the delicate skin there, biting and sucking as he cums and causing me to yelp. He kisses the spot in apology before he pulls himself out of me and wraps his arms around my body.

"Kay," he says after a long silence, his voice thick with emotion as he cradles me close, "I’m in love with you. I've known for a while."

His confession hangs between us, a delicate truth that threatens to shatter the fragile peace we'd found. I search his face, seeing the earnest declaration written in the lines around his eyes and the set of his jaw. My heart swells with an affection that is genuine, but not quite a mirror for his.

"Changbin, I…." The words lodge in my throat, uncertainty weaving its way through my mind. I don’t want to hurt him, but I also don’t know what to say.

He presses a finger to my lips, silencing my half-formed reply. "It's okay, Kay. You don't have to say it back. I know you’re not in love with me. And I'm okay with that."

I meet his gaze, finding a selfless acceptance there that humbles me. "You are amazing and you deserve someone who can give you their whole heart," I say softly, the truth aching within me that despite our current status, my heart belongs solely to Chris.

"Maybe," he concedes, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. "But I also love you and Chan together. He needs you, Kay. More than I need you. You bring balance to his life."

“You’re a fucking saint,” I say, burying my head into his chest, trying hard to hold my tears at bay. He squeezes me tighter, sensing the turmoil with me. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, steady and calm. Over time, mine slows to match it. My mind swirls with a million thoughts and questions. But for now, I need this silent moment with Changbin, basking in the warmth of his embrace and the comfort of his presence. I know that my body, mind, and heart are safe with him here, and that I can put off making any decisions just a little while longer.

—

The ding of the elevator yanks me from my thoughts, and as I step on, my heart stutters. There stands Chris in the corner, his presence like a sudden drop in pressure. I force a smile, my fingers gripping the strap of my bag tighter than necessary.

"Hey Kay," he says, his voice tentative but warm. The doors slide close, sealing us in a space that feels too small for all the unspoken words and feelings between us.

"Hi Chris." My reply is clipped, coated with a politeness meant to keep him at arm's length. I try to focus on the numbers lighting up above the door, each one an agonizingly slow escape from this unexpected encounter. I take a quick side glance at him. He looks beautiful, as usual, as he leans against the railing, black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. He’s watching me intently and doesn’t look away when my eyes land on him. I turn my gaze quickly back to the numbers.

"Going up?" he asks, though it is clear that we are.

"Just grabbing something from my place." I nervously tuck a curl behind my ear.

We lapse into silence, the hum of the elevator's mechanics filling the void. A part of me aches to bridge the gap, to lean into the familiarity of us and let him embrace me tightly, but the walls I've built around myself since that day are too fresh, too raw to tear down right now.

"Kay, listen, I—"

"Chris, please," I cut him off before the apology can spill from his lips, not ready to navigate through the swamp of emotions lying between us. "I need more time."

He reaches out, his hand enveloping mine, and my breath hitches. A thousand memories flicker at the contact—laughter, kisses, long embraces, whispered promises, the gentle squeeze of reassurance. But then, his touch becomes a live wire, sparking fear and confusion where comfort once resided.

"Kay, you know I would never hurt you," Chris says, his thumb tracing the back of my hand in a futile attempt to soothe.

My pulse hammers against my skin, a frenzied drumbeat urging me to flee. "I know," I whisper, but my mind is a tangle of contradictions, a mess of feelings I can't parse just yet. “Deep down, I know that,” I continue softly as I turn to face him, squeezing his hand gently in return. I see him exhale slowly with a tiny bit of relief. “But…I can’t seem to get these images of you out of my mind.”

The elevator dings, announcing my floor. The doors seem to open with the speed of a slug. "Chris, I—I can't do this. Not right now." My voice is steady, belying the chaos within. "I'll reach out when I'm ready."

His face looks pained as he opens his mouth, but closes it immediately, clearly unsure of how to reply. I look down at our hands and back up at him. With a gentle motion, I begin to pull my hand away. He responds by letting go with a soft sigh. The absence of his warmth leaves a phantom chill across my skin.

I leave him there, standing amidst the silence, the closing doors a temporary barrier to the questions and apologies left hanging in the air. Alone in the hallway, I lean against the wall, my heart still racing, my mind echoing with the words unspoken.

My phone beeps and I retrieve it from my pocket. It’s Chris. He hasn’t messaged me in over a week, intent on giving me the space I’ve asked for. I swipe it open.

Chris: I love you. Tell me you still love me too…

I shove the phone back into my pocket and peel myself off the wall, walking down the hallway to my apartment. I stop in front of my door and breathe. Then, instead of pulling out my keys, I grab my phone, opening back up Chris’ message.

I stare at it for a full minute before I start typing back a response.

Kay: I do. I still love you.

I exit out of the application and turn my phone completely off, not quite ready to deal with anything else in this moment.

*********************************************************************

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