#we're at the halfway point folks!

[sio-writes]

Botanist's Guide - Chapter 12

<<Chapter 11 (NSFW)

<<< Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Jillie won't stop staring at me.

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

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

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

"So. Is it big?"

"Hand me the pipettes, please."

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

"Pipettes. Please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey," I say. 

I probably should've thought of something to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Would you like to talk over dinner?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm holding a funeral for Emmie."

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

"Your mp3 player, really Cass?"

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

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

"You're so dramatic."

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

"It was outdated before your grandparents were born!"

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

"God forbid you talk to us instead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Two, you drama queen."

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

"One of us has to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ooh, standing?"

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

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

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

"Then you gotta look again, hun!"

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

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

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

"Talk?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I raise an eyebrow. "The grocery store?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That'd be awesome."

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

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

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

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

"What do you like?" I ask. 

"It's your decision."

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

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

"What'd ya go with?"

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

I balk. "No fair!"

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

"But I need to know the results."

"You will."

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What would you like to--" 

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

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

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

"You need to eat," he says, smiling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this acceptable?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How do you mean?"

"I didn't know you could cook."

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

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

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

"Are you making that now?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it rude to just dig in?"

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

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

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

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

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

"It was acceptable?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That sounds lovely."

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

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

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

The first of many, hopefully. 

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

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

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

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

"Sounds goo-- wait what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or before I drag you in." 

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

"Goodnight Cassie." 

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

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

Chapter 13 >>

#my writing #A Botanist's Guide #monster writing #monster romance #terato writing #monster x human #exo writing #and with this chapter we start the second arc of the story #focusing on their relationship #we're at the halfway point folks! #they're gonna be disgustingly in love i'm so excited

[dduane]

Of parsnips and parsnip soup

So the question of parsnips, and particularly parsnip soup, came up secondary to this quote from an interview with Terry Pratchett. (Thanks to @captainfantasticalright for the transcription.)

Terry: “You can usually bet, and I’m sure Neil Gaiman would say the same thing, that, uh, if I go into a bookstore to do a signing and someone presents me with three books, the chances are that one of them is going to be a very battered copy of Good Omens; and it will smell as if it’s been dropped in parsnip soup or something in and it’s gone fluffy and crinkly around the edges and they’ll admit that it’s the fourth copy they’ve bought”.

And when @petermorwood saw this, he immediately reblogged it and added four recipes for parsnip soup.

These kind of surprised some folks, as not everybody knew that parsnips were an actual thing: or if they were, what they looked like or were useful for.

The vegetable may well be better known on this side of the Atlantic. (And I have to confess that as a New Yorker and Manhattanite, with access to both great outdoor food markets and some of the best grocery stores in the world, I don't think that parsnips ever came up on my personal radar while I was living there.) So I thought I'd take a moment to lay out some basics for those who'd like to get to know the vegetable better.

The parsnip's Linnaean/botanical name is Pastinaca sativa, and in the culinary mode it's been around for a long time. It's native to Eurasia, and is a relative to parsley and carrots (with which it's frequently paired in the UK and Ireland). The Romans cultivated it, and it spread all over the place from there. Travelers who passed through our own neck of the woods before the introduction of the potato noted that "the Irish do feed much upon parsnips", and in the local diet it filled a lot of the niches that the potato now occupies.

You can do all kinds of things with parsnips. The Wikipedia article says, correctly, that they can be "baked, boiled, pureed, roasted, fried, grilled, or steamed". But probably the commonest food form in which parsnips turn up around here is steamed or simmered with carrots and then mashed with them: so that you can buy carrot-and-parsnip mash, ready-made, in most of our local grocery chains.

It also has to be mentioned that most Irish kids have had this stuff foisted on them at one point or another, and a lot of them hate it. (@petermorwood would be one.) I find it hard to blame anybody for this opinion, as one of the parsnip's great selling points—its spicy, almost peppery quality—gets almost completely wiped out by the carrot's more dominant flavor and sweetness.

Roasting parsnips, though, is another matter entirely. They roast really well. And parsnip soups are another story entirely, as it's possible to build a soup that will emphasize the parsnip's virtues.

So, to add to Peter's collection, here's one I made earlier—like yesterday afternoon, stopping the cooking sort of halfway and finishing it up today.

I was thinking in a vague medioregnic-food way about a soup with roasted bacon in it, but not with potatoes (as those have been disallowed from the Middle Kingdoms for reasons discussed elsewhere. Tl;dr: it's Sean Astin's fault). And finally I thought, "Okay, if we're going to roast some pork belly or back bacon, then why not save some energy and roast some parsnips too? The browned skins'll help keep them from going to mush in the soup."

So: first find your parsnips. I used four of them. You peel them with a potato peeler...

...sort of roughly quarter them, the long way...

...then chop them in half the short way, toss them in a bowl with some oil—olive oil, in this case—spread them on a baking sheet, and season them with pepper, coarse salt, and some chile flakes. (I used ancho and bird's-eye chile flakes here.)

These then went into the oven for about half an hour, and came out like this.

While that was going on, I got a block of ready-cooked Polish snack bacon out of the freezer.

On its home turf, this is the kind of thing that turns up (among other ways) sliced very thin on afternoon-snack plates, with cheeses and breads. But we like to score it and roast it to sweat some of the fat out, and then use it in soups and stews and so forth.

So I scored this chunk on most of its sides, browned it in a skillet, then shoved the skillet into the oven for twenty minutes or so. Here's the bacon after it was done.

While it was cooking, I made about a liter of soup stock from a couple of stock cubes. If you can get pork stock cubes, they'd be best for this, but beef works fine.

This then went into the pot and was brought up to just-boiling while the bacon and the parsnips were chopped into more or less bite-sized chunks. After that, the meat and veg were added to the pot and the whole business was left to simmer for a couple of hours while I went off to do some line editing.

Finally I turned it off and left it on the stove overnight (our kitchen is quite cool, it was in no bacteriological danger from being left out this way) and then finished its simmering time around lunchtime today.

And here it is. (...Or was. It was very nice.)

...Anyway, this is only one of potentially thousands of takes on parsnip soup. Recipes for more robust versions—based on mashed parsnips and more vegetables, or different meats—are all over the place.

Meanwhile, as regards how much damage this soup could do to your copy of Good Omens if you dropped yours in it, I'd rate this at about 5 damage points out of 10. ...Call it 5.5 if you factor in the chiles. Soups along the boiled-and-mashed-parsnip spectrum would probably inflict damage more in the 7.50-8.0 range. But your results may vary: so I'll leave you all to your own experimentation.

#parsnips #parsnip soup #Good Omens #Terry Pratchett #Neil Gaiman #recipes

[littlepadika]

Joel thoughts… What about Petal had a close encounter with an infected while little (Joel of course gets them out of it) and ever since then Petal has been scared to be little cause she feels guilty for putting her and Joel at risk so Joel is trying to coax her into little space and make her feel safe. 💝

noooo dis has me so so emo 😢 (thanks for ur patience bb). i hope you likie 💕

Close l Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Warnings: DDLG, scary situation, angy joel, angst and comfort, talk about littlespace

It was supposed to be safe, damnit. He had scouted this trail a few days ago to make sure there were no infected. The area around the meadow seemed quiet and secluded. Close enough to the border that the town took turns checking. It was sunny and all the wild flowers were in bloom. You were so excited to finally get out.

He should never have taken you there.

It was perfect for a moment. The sun lighting up every corner of the meadow and you had brought him a flower crown. You were in littlespace, not paying attention. Fuck, he wasn't paying attention. And that's when they came. Out of nowhere. Two of them. Running across the field, their horrible faces pointed right at you.

"Petal!" He had dropped everything and ran to you. He dropped his gun. What the hell was he thinking.

"Daddy!" Your wide smile now a wide scream as you met him halfway. You cling onto him and refuse to move.

"Come on, baby girl." He grabs you by the shoulders and tries to pull you back towards where his gun is lying under the shade of the tree. "We gotta run. Come on!"

"Daddy!" You're too scared. Frozen to the spot. You're clawing at his t-shirt like you're trying to crawl inside. And the infected are getting closer. It's the first time in a long time that he's seen one so up close. You look behind your shoulder and shriek. He feels his panic rise.

"Fuck fuck." Joe grunts. He can hardly focus. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and there's this awful sensation that he's been here before. He heaves you over his shoulder and makes a run for it. He knows he has about a five seconds to grab his gun and making the shot.

Joel couldn't tell you how he managed it. Managed to shoot the two in pursuit. He blacked out. All he knew is that he couldn't get you to talk for a few minutes.

"Hey... hey... you're safe." He held you close to his chest, blinking back his own tears that bubbled up.

"Daddy... daddy..." was all you were whimpering. Like you were stuck.

Other folk nearby heard the shots and showed up. Joel told them what happened.

"But why are you out here any way?" One of them, Harper, demanded.

"I thought it was safe. I mean- we're less than one mile from the border."

"It's my fault." You finally spoke up quietly from behind his shoulder.

"No-" he frowned immediately.

"I wanted to come out here." You hugged yourself. Shame bubbled in your tummy. "I was stupid."

"Just..." Harper sighed. "I'm glad ya'll are okay. We can't let our guard down for anything."

Joel bit down his retort as Harper gave him a disappointed glance. Joel wasn't reckless with you. But it sure seemed that way. All the adrenaline made his hand shake as it reached for yours.

"Are you alright?" He asked and he knew it was a stupid question.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, fresh tears sliding down your face. You looked so... ashamed. The shine of trust and innocence missing from your eyes.

"None of that, petal." He squeezed your hand. "It was- if anything it was my fault. You trusted me to watch out for you when you- when you were playing and I fucked up. Shit-" His voice cracked and he had to look away to compose himself. He felt disgusted with himself..

You shook your head. "No, Joel. If it weren't for you I- I would have- I almost killed both of us."

Joel wanted to disagree but he doesn't. He just hugged you and leads you back into the safety of the town's perimeter.

You decide then and there that you'd never be little again. It was too dangerous. You'd never be able to live with yourself if something happened to Joel. You hated yourself for bringing up painful memories for him. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was beating himself up for it.

Your plan worked pretty well for a couple days. You kept yourself busy and pretend you were fine. You knew Joel could tell something was up. You felt his concerned eyes follow you. And it made you even more angry at yourself because you didn't want him to have to worry about you. You were sure if you told him your resolution to not be little that he'd try to talk you down. But it wasn't up to him.

"Petal don'tcha want April in the bed?" Joel asks on the third day after finding April sitting on the scratched up book shelf in the sitting room.

"Not today." You smile tightly.

"Petal... this ain't like you. To leave April all lonely."

"It's a stuffed animal, Joel." You snap back, some of your frustration boiling over.

Joel looks hurt by this. It was more than that. You loved your stuffie.

"Hey now..." He frowns.

"Stop!" You clap your hands over your ears. "Stop suffocating me!" And you regret it the moment it leaves your mouth. Your resolve crumbles and you run into the bedroom to avoid your tears being seen. No. be strong. Don't be weak. You can't do this anymore. You curled up on the bed, holding your legs to your chest.

"Petal..." Joel stomps after you, his voice rising. "We don't talk to each other like that. Now you may not wanna be my-my little girl anymore-" He sucks in a breath "but goddamnit we need to stick together. Not turn on one another."

When you don't turn around he sits on the bed a foot away from you and rubs his face. You hate feeling like you can't be close to him. But you know if you were to feel him you'd instantly crumble.

"Talk to me, petal. Please, baby. It's safe." He puts a tentative hand on your knee.

"Not safe. Not. I have to be big." You shake your head. Your voice growing quiet and soft. Joel felt his heart breaking in his chest. He hated to see you punishing yourself as if you were trying to have some semblance of control over what happened. "It's my fault I couldn't-I couldn't-"

"You ran to me. You did the right thing." Joel scoots closer.

"But I should have run faster. I should have stayed closer." You lament, hot tears gathering in your eyes.

"Hey..." Joel gently turns your face with the crook of his finger. You're eyes are big and wide and looking up at him with so much trust. He feels all his frustration melt away.

"It's not all on you... We both let down our guard but that don't mean we should hide who we are." Joel says with conviction. "Believe me, petal. I did that and I never want to go back. I don't want to see that happen to you." He cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his own emotions bubbling up.

"I'm so scared, daddy." You cry, sitting up and crawling into his arms. Giving up the fight and taking the comfort you so needed since the incident.

"Shit..." Joel feels some tears fall from his eyes as he presses a kiss into your hair. "Me, too, baby. All the time. But I feel somethin' else too..."

You look up to hear his response. He takes your hand in his and presses it into his chest where his heart beats fiercely. "I feel love. That's why I was able to fight my way to you that day. See... what we have doesn't make us weaker. It make us stronger. Gives me the fire to keep on fightin'."

You sit with that for a moment while Joel slowly draws circles over your knee.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You sniffle. He kisses your head again.

"I'm sorry, too, petal. I'm sorry this happened." Joel curls into you further. He wasn't going to let this fucked up world win. He wasn't going to give way to despair and fear. Even though so much was out of his control... he wouldn't fail again.

"How about this... you come up with a codeword for daddy when you wanna be little outside the house and that way I know to keep an extra close eye on you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daddies masterlist

littlespace taglist: @lafresamilk @mamacitapascal @prettypedros, @marstheplanet @takochansugoi  @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @dincrypt, @bac-1, @spacenerdpascal, @cranberrypills @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp  @djarinsimp @mylittlesenaar @bbybunbun @phnyx @xwalltoast @dreadwolfxoxo @mswarriorbabe80 @bearcina @lokigirlszendaya @pedroslilbitch @star-wars-fan-2005  @din-jarhead @hillgoth @m4ngoj3lly @crabbae @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties @girlofchaos @joelsflannel @xoxabs88xox @nicolethered @sergeant-major-ghost @pretty-girl-likes-tea @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @marchai @teddy2510 @phillygraves @sunnythebunny7 @anaisweird

#daddy!joel #little!reader #ask padika #prettygirldjarin #dis has me so soft and sad #joel miller x reader

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 13: June II

{{ Chapter 12: May I | Chapter 14: July II }} Chapter Directory

ayyyye we're halfway there folks, steamrolling into the second year

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, mutual pining, idiots in love, negative self-talk ✧ word count ➼ ~5.1k

You were looking for a new place to live back in April after your spat with Levi, but that intention was nowhere to be found now. You signed the lease renewal without hesitation. Part of you told yourself that it was because you just didn't have time to look for another apartment that was affordable.

A more realistic part of you was acutely aware that the decision (or lack thereof) was at least partially affected by the fact that you were growing much closer with your roommate. The idea of not being able to see him regularly gave you an odd discomforting feeling, especially after your chat on the Ferris Wheel. He really was the one major connection currently in your life and you couldn’t imagine throwing that away.

"Great," Levi grumbled as he filed the renewed lease away. "I'm stuck with you for another year?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you mumbled with an eye roll. "You know Hange snitched to me about how you were saying that I'm much better at cleaning than Miche was?"

You glanced over at Levi as he scoffed.

"Miche was okay at cleaning, just not being organized."

You placed both your hands on your hips and gave Levi a cocky grin.

"And I'm good at both, right?!" 

"Certainly weren't at first," he grumbled, which prompted you to stick your tongue out at him again, which he immediately waved off. He watched as you walked to and from the bathroom, throwing towels amongst various items like a bathing suit and sunscreen into a gym bag.

You dug through the bag, taking a mental note of everything that was in there to check if you had forgotten anything.

"You're not bringing a swimming suit?" you asked, looking at Levi over your shoulder.

"And immerse myself in the filthy ocean water that's filled with who knows what? Fuck no."

You were much more excited for this beach trip than you were willing to admit. Unlike the amusement park, this wasn't an official outing that you had to be responsible for. Some of the freshmen (soon to be sophomores) in the Honors Society decided that they wanted to check out the beach and you elected to tag along. What you didn't expect was for Levi to also tag along.

"You know you don't have to come," you noted with a serious expression. "Even if you don't touch the water, the sand's also messy and will get into your shoes and clothes."

Levi knew that you had a point. His surroundings were going to be filthy regardless of if he swam or not. He would never willingly find himself at the beach. The water was gross, the sand was messy, and the public bathrooms were generally disgusting. There were too many people and parking was always a nightmare.

The reason he was going was because of you, although he'd never openly admit to it. Hanging out with you has been enjoyable and he found himself missing you whenever you were gone. The prime example was how he had reacted over spring break. You were gone for only a few days and he found himself feeling resentful and grumpy over it, to the point that he ended up being enough of a dick to you to drive you to somehow end up at your ex-boyfriend’s.

"It's monotonous and dull here," he rationalized. "Maybe being around you and the brats you hang out with will annoy me enough to want to come back home and be alone."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you saying you're enjoying hanging out with me, then?"

"Tch," Levi scoffed, avoiding eye contact with you. "Of course not."

You continued to give him a skeptical look, not believing a single word that was coming out of his mouth, but you otherwise didn't push it. 

"Well, if you change your mind, you don't have to come."

"I'm driving."

"I can catch a ride with someone else!"

When you looked back towards Levi, you saw that he was clearly scowling at you.

"...Just shut up and finish packing."

~~~~~

“Surprised you came along, Levi!” 

“Trust me, I didn’t want to at first,” Levi mumbled with a scoff, throwing a side glance over at Nicolo. He had just learned that Nicolo was the point of contact for setting up this trip. His connection with Sasha led to the connection with you, which is how you found yourself here primarily with the freshmen instead of with the other officers of the Honors Society that you usually found yourself hanging out around.

Levi kept his eyes on you, although he wasn’t entirely aware of that himself. He watched as you splashed around in the water, throwing a blow-up tube over you. You struggled to get onto it at first, which tugged at the corners of his lips into a small, amused smile. He wasn’t feeling malicious about watching you struggle, he actually found it quite cute.

That smile got quickly replaced with a frown as he had that disturbing thought again about you.

“_____ drag you here?”

Levi peeled his eyes away from you, trying to push down the feelings of unease and confusion that were becoming more prominent within him.

“Something like that.”

Nicolo got distracted as soon as Sasha came up to him and called his name, carrying a paper bag that was filled with groceries and grilling material. From what little Levi could see, it seemed the newly formed couple was planning on having a grill-out later in the day. At least it meant that he'd be able to get away from the beach eventually.

As the two walked off, Levi was left on his own to stew in his own thoughts. He would usually never find himself here. He even adamantly dodged answering Hange when they asked where he was going on his day off, being more willing to let them theorize about whatever it is that he was up to over letting them know that you had successfully dragged him to somewhere like the beach. He had been here for a few hours at this point and had yet to even step into the sand.

He was avoiding the beach itself, but it did end up being awkward for him to be hanging by himself when he purposefully came to a social event. His reasoning in February was because he only went to make sure you didn’t find yourself in trouble again. He had no such reason now.

Levi found himself annoyed because he really was questioning why he bothered with coming. You had jokingly accused him of enjoying spending time with you, but that couldn’t possibly be the case. It was purely because he needed to get away from the school and apartment, and your trip just happened to be at a convenient time for him.

Part of him knew that was a lie.

As he watched you floating around leisurely on that blow-up tube, he felt this strange pull to approach you. However, you were in the water and he was adamantly against going anywhere near the water. Even the thought of stepping into the water filled him with a sense of disgust.

Levi sighed and groaned to himself. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to stay here. He didn’t want to go towards you either.

Noticing a local pub and the fact that it was a little past noon, he elected to simply get something to eat.

It wasn’t much better there, either.

It was crowded, the music was too loud, and it was too small of a space. At this point, he was more than grumpy enough to seriously consider maybe leaving and hanging out by himself in his car for the rest of the day, although he knew that you would give him nonstop shit about it if you found out about it—and knowing his luck, you’d definitely find out about it.

After finally getting to order and eat something that wasn’t completely covered in grease, he wandered around the downtown area, noting an ice cream shop nearby. While he normally wouldn’t be bothered to check it out, seeing the dessert shop immediately reminded him of you. The past few times that you had been upset over something, his first thought was to get you food as soon as he found out that you were food motivated. You obviously weren’t particularly upset about anything currently, but getting you food (or making you Matchas) had become one of his ways of spending time with you.

He scowled at the ice cream shop. He had insisted that he had come to the beach for himself and that it had nothing to do with spending time with you, but he knew that wasn’t true. It was also incredibly annoying that something as simple as an ice cream shop immediately reminded him of you.

Despite how tilted he found himself, he still ended up making his way towards the shop, unable to fight off the instinct of obtaining the one thing that never failed to uplift your mood.

~~~~~

It was hot enough that you were more than refreshed just hanging out in the water without a care in the world. You had just rolled into the water off of one of the blow-up tubes. You had originally elected to just sunbathe, but only lasted about ten minutes before you felt like the sun was frying you alive, prompting you to roll directly into the water.

You didn't particularly have a lot of stamina, so you were only able to swim without a floatie for about another ten minutes before you gave up and grabbed onto the blow-up tube and started wading towards land.

Once you finally got back to the shore, you tossed the tube to the side and began wringing out your hair before putting it up in a loose ponytail. You had left your bag near an umbrella for shade and dug out a towel to begin to dry yourself off, taking care to not get too much sand and water into the bag itself. 

You looked around and saw that Jean, Connie, and Sasha were still screwing around in the water. Eren and Mikasa had come along as well, but they were currently nowhere to be found. 

You didn't bring your usual group of friends with you. It's not that you wanted to intentionally leave them out, but you were starting to get sick of being the one inviting them to things. You were the one that was invited onto this trip, and for once, you weren't going to take the responsibility of who was coming or ensuring that everyone had a good time.

You couldn’t deny that you held some resentment towards them over what happened at the amusement park. You planned the whole thing, and got momentarily separated, and then they didn’t bother to check in with you for the rest of the day until they needed you for something logistical. You would be able to understand that it could have been a result of you also not reaching out, if this wasn’t a regular occurrence. It was excuse after excuse, and half the time it was you just making excuses for them. At this point, you didn’t even know if it was worth bringing it up or if you would just be met with defensiveness. You weren’t satisfied with being complacent, but you also didn’t want to put work into fixing a relationship if they weren’t also invested in repairing it.

By the time Levi had decided to actually step foot onto the beach, you had already set out a towel to sunbathe, propping up an umbrella behind you so that you had the option to take shelter in the shade in case it got too hot. Levi’s pacing slowed down once he got closer to you.

He could barely contain the discomfort radiating through his body when he saw you applying sunscreen onto your bare body. Your hands were currently roaming up and down your calves to your upper thigh, suddenly making your curves that much more obvious to him. It wasn't like he didn't see you in shorts (or even half-naked) before, but he suddenly felt the need to look away as if he was invading your private space. At the same time, he couldn't take his eyes off you.

Levi kinda awkwardly shuffled from side to side, unsure of what to do. He couldn't just stand there behind you without being a creep—plus, the ice cream would melt. 

He cleared his throat, prompting you to look up at him, your face lighting up once you saw the ice cream cone in his hand.

"Oh, thank you," you said as you took the ice cream cone from him, your cheeks heating up a bit. "Wanna sit?"

You scooted over to the side a bit to give him space to also sit on your towel. You pulled your knees up to your chest while quietly licking at the ice cream cone, the cold custard bringing a refreshing feeling to your mouth. It was perfect for a day as hot as today.

Levi tried his best to avoid looking down at you past your face. Your bikini didn’t seem overly revealing at the time, but now he felt like he couldn’t help but notice how it looked on you. Your hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which revealed the nape of your neck and the sunscreen made your skin shimmer. He felt heat rapidly rising to his face and he forced himself to look away and focus on the coldness of the ice cream instead to try to get himself out of that headspace, pissed that he found himself there in the first place.

You bit on your bottom lip, slightly anxious, as you looked at Levi, who was meticulously working through his ice cream cone, looking much more tense than usual. He wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, so he just had on a white t-shirt with some shorts on. His arms up to his upper bicep was exposed and it took every ounce of self-control within you to not continue staring at him. As usual, his hair fell perfectly over his forehead and his signature irritated scowl seemed oddly alluring. You slightly shook your head upon realizing the types of thoughts that you were having.

You shot a side glance at him, watching as he picked away at his ice cream. Upon closer inspection, you could see that he had elected for a waffle bowl instead of an ice cream cone and that he was using a spoon to scoop out the ice cream instead of shoving it in his face like you were.

When he finally looked over at you again, he immediately passed you a napkin. He had grabbed a more than generous bundle from the shop that he was just at.

"You're dripping."

"Oh, shit," you muttered as you took the napkin and wrapped it around the cone, checking to make sure the sugary liquid didn't get onto the towel. 

Your hand lingered on that spot on the towel for a bit, as if you were struggling to say something. Your finger gently rubbed the cloth back and forth for a while before your lips finally parted.

"Thank you for not being...weird after the other week," you mumbled.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in what almost sounded like a genuine tone as he finished his ice cream, but he knew what you were referring to—and you knew that he knew.

"...Nevermind," you said as you shook your head.

It seemed like neither of you really wanted to discuss what had happened—or rather, what had almost happened—on the Ferris Wheel.

You remembered the two of you chatting over your sudden grumpiness when you suddenly got the impulsive urge to kiss him. You had gotten so distracted that you could barely remember what it was that you were trying to say at the time: that Levi was the only really close and reliable connection that you had.

"...Just thank you for always being there to pick up the pieces, I guess," you mumbled. "I hope you're not too distressed about having to live with me for another year."

You looked up hesitantly at him. Your last statement was meant to be a joke, but there was a bit of actual anxiety present in your voice as well.

He glanced down at you.

"I think I'll find a way to cope with your annoying ass."

You shot him a half-hearted smile. You knew this banter was normal from him, but you couldn't help but doubt. You couldn't help but ponder on the fact that no one would reasonably want to live with you.

"Cut that out," Levi scolded with a groan.

You blinked at him.

"Cut what out?"

"You're pitying yourself again."

"What? No I'm not," you said defensively.

Levi shot you a skeptical look, not believing you in the slightest. 

"You're not as much of a pain in the ass as you think you are."

You scoffed at the irony of his comment.

"You still think that after you had to scout out the entire town for me that one night?"

"Yes."

He responded extraordinarily quickly, and with clear conviction in his voice.

You clenched your jaw and looked down and away from him.

"Do you not believe me?"

He never took his gaze off you.

"_____," he called out after you remained quiet for a while.

You let out an unsteady breath.

"I want to," you whispered. "I just feel like I'm always dragging you down or bothering you for something and there are so many times in which I regret texting you at night because I know you're busy and I don't want to be a burden. And-"

"You never shut up, do you?" Levi scolded, cutting you off. "You're not a fucking burden. Quit doing that to yourself."

He slightly shoved at you in an attempt to pull you out of your head.

You pulled away and looked at him, feeling your cheeks slightly warm up upon seeing that he was shooting you a subtle smile. You gave him a half-hearted smile in return.

"Maybe you're not as much of a dick as I thought you were."

He frowned at your comment.

"You thought I was a dick?"

"Mhm," you said with a nod. "When we first talked, remember?"

"Purged that memory," he said with a deadpan expression, implying that his first meeting with you was so terrible that he had to repress his memory of it.

"Ha, yeah right."

You hated the fact that your cheeks were warming up in his presence again. You hated the fact that you couldn't pull away from him even if you wanted to. 

And you absolutely hated the fact that you got this close to your aloof roommate that was insistent on being a dick to you right off the bat.

~~~~~

"You went out to get a sandwich?"

"Not touching that oil-soaked patty."

You looked over across the alley and saw that Nicolo was in the middle of teaching Sasha how to grill. He had brought his own patties that he had prepared earlier on in the day. Given the fact that everyone had been screwing around in the water all day, they were more than ready for burgers—except for Levi.

He was making a face of absolute disgust at the burgers. He was sure it tasted great—he knew of Nicolo's cooking abilities—but just the sight of the coat of grease over them made him scrunch up his nose in disgust.

Instead, he had walked over to a nearby restaurant to order a sandwich. You knew he had walked off to do that. What you didn't expect was that he was going to come back with one in hand for you too.

You didn't have a problem eating the burger, but the sandwich did admittedly look more appetizing than the burgers that everyone had begun digging through. 

"So?"

Levi raised an eyebrow at you as you spoke.

"So?"

"You regret coming yet?"

He looked at you without responding, unsure why you were randomly bringing up the question.

"I saw you smacking your shoes earlier to get the sand out."

Levi's breathing paused for a moment. He didn't expect you to notice that. He had made sure that you were out of sight when he went behind his car to get the sand out, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of an "I told you so". 

He grunted in response.

"Whatever. As long as it doesn't get in the car."

"Maybe I'll make you go swimming next," you mused.

"Don't you dare."

You chuckled at his reaction, taking a sip of your beer. You looked up towards both Nicolo and Sasha as you finished your sandwich and saw that Sasha had already picked up how to use the grill, despite having only been introduced to it around twenty minutes ago.

You knew all the way back in November that they were beginning to become a thing, so you weren't surprised when they arrived at the beach as an official couple. You watched them interact with each other and found your eyes flashing over towards Levi.

You mentally slapped yourself for doing so. The fact that you automatically looked at him when thinking about a "new couple" meant that those feelings that rose up at the amusement park were still there, and they didn't seem to be going away any time soon. Your housing situation would be made a hundred times more complicated if you ended up falling in love with your roommate. You continued trying to convince yourself that that wasn’t the case and that there was some other explanation for your feelings that didn’t involve a more intimate relationship with him.

It was Levi. He was supposed to piss you off and you were supposed to piss him off. Him being kind to you was a fluke. You just happened to have multiple flukes in a row. It couldn’t possibly mean anything.

You awkwardly shuffled around on the bench, trying to shake off the feeling. Levi immediately noticed that your body posture had changed.

"What?" he asked with a frown.

You looked at him with flushed cheeks. You weren't sure if it was from him or from the alcohol beginning to hit you. You'd prefer if it was just the alcohol.

"Nothing," you mumbled, shaking your head. "Just the alcohol settling in."

He blinked at you a few times with a raised eyebrow. He didn't believe you.

This had turned into a common theme between the two of you. Whether you were intending to or not, lying to him has become significantly more difficult as of late, and vice versa. The tension and mind games were killing you, but you weren’t willing to address anything, if you even knew what “anything” entailed of.

You grimaced as everyone began swarming the table now that the burgers were done and everyone had grabbed their food. The small table that you had been peacefully eating your sandwich at soon became chaotic and messy. Everyone chatting at once became incredibly noisy and it was wearing away at your nerves. You were soon no longer processing anything that was being said, your world simply turning into a haze that vaguely involved people running around and screaming something about summer break that you were too overwhelmed to fully tune in to.

Levi got up and placed a hand on your shoulder, sensing the tension.

"Come, talk a walk with me. It's-"

"-getting too rowdy?" you finished his sentence with a slight smirk. You shared the sentiment, however. It was much too noisy for either of you. Although Levi had pulled you out of your dissociative state, you felt it quickly returning.

He responded to your comment with an eye roll, but otherwise motioned for you to follow as he began to wander back towards the shoreline.

~~~~~

"Oh c'mon, at least dip a toe in!" you shouted back at Levi from the shoreline. 

"Fuck no."

You were barely in the water, just close enough for the waves to wash over your feet, but remaining dry otherwise.

The beach was starting to cool off now that the sun began to go down. The sky had a relaxing pink hue to it that was speckled with white clouds drifting about. It had gotten chilly enough that you had a thin, translucent pullover on so that you weren't wearing just a bikini. 

You tried to coax Levi to step into the water, but he adamantly refused. After seeing that he wasn't going to budge, you sighed and stepped out of the water, slightly bumping into him as you walked up next to him. 

He slightly pushed back against you with an annoyed look. He had invited you on a walk to get away from everyone else, not expecting you to try to drag him into the ocean. 

His frown lines softened as you looked up into his eyes and your cheeks heated up as he gave you "that" look again. It was the one you saw for the first time on that Ferris Wheel—a gentle, compassionate look that you rarely got to see from him. 

You broke eye contact, feeling your entire body begin to heat up just from being around him. You mumbled something under your breath.

"What?"

You shook off your nerves and spoke up.

"Thanks...for always being there to pick me up."

He sighed in irritation.

"Quit thanking me for it."

You had thanked him for the exact same thing repeatedly over the past day and while he wasn't necessarily sick of it, he knew how excessive it was. He was acutely aware that it had to do with a sense of shame or guilt, but he hoped that you'd eventually be able to just accept that it's okay to need or ask for help.

"I'm sorry if it ever seems like I'm not grateful," you mumbled. "I really don't know what I would've done without you this past year so..."

Your hand grabbed at your other arm in anxiety.

"...so I guess you're not as bad of a roommate as I thought you would be."

You had to end your comment with a joke. At this point it seemed to serve as a protective factor against whatever it was that was brewing within you whenever you were around him. You were hesitant to test the waters with him. It was why you didn't text him when you were on the bus ride back from the amusement park. 

You didn't want to screw up what you already had. You didn't want to mess up this delicate friendship that you had finally been able to forge.

When you finally gathered up the courage to look at him again, you saw that he never took his eyes off you the entire time.

He looked into your eyes for a bit before he spoke, as if he was also contemplating about the best way to word his thoughts.

"Did you mean it?"

"That you're not a shit roommate?"

He let out an annoyed tut.

"Not that, dumbass."

You tilted your head a bit at him, genuinely unsure of what he was referring to. 

"At the amusement park," he said quietly, and you felt your body freeze upon him bringing it up. "On the Ferris Wheel. Did you mean it?"

He was referring to what you had been saying about being close to him. You remembered musing about the fact that you didn't really have anyone that you could call family, or anyone that you could rely on to be there in case shit hit the fan—except for Levi.

Levi was always there for you, even if it seemed like he didn't want to be. Levi would drop everything to make sure you were okay. You could confidently rely on him. Whether you had wanted to or not, you had formed somewhat of a close bond with him, to the point that every minute that you spent with him involved you being incredibly confused over what your relationship actually was.

You felt your cheeks continue to heat up and you turned to walk away, pausing as your hand brushed up against his.

Your hands lingered near each other for a bit as the both of you stopped moving. You even felt his fingers slightly grasp at yours, although you could easily convince yourself that this wasn't intentional, but it still sent chills throughout your body nonetheless.

"Uhm..y-yeah," you stammered, "I guess I did...Is that okay?"

Neither of you pulled your hands away. The desire to get closer to him was destroying you, but you held agonizingly still as you anxiously waited for his response.

"Sure."

You looked into each other's eyes and you felt that same tension, that same alluring feeling drawing you towards him, that same temptation to gently plant your lips against his. Your face only continued to heat up as you stood next to him, fingers crossed with his, the both of you unmoving, waiting to see what the other would do.

Levi cleared his throat before finally stepping back away from the shoreline.

"Should head back. It's getting dark."

It took you a minute to reorient yourself to reality. 

"Yeah," you said quietly as you let out an unsteady exhale. "We should."

You lingered behind him a bit, letting him walk forward. You watched him from behind, appreciating the way that the breeze was blowing through his hair. Your eyes dropped down to the bottom of his t-shirt, where it slightly rose up so that you could ever so slightly see the bottom of his bare back. It wasn’t anything special, but just simply seeing his shirt rise made your body heat up in ways that you weren’t willing to admit to yourself. Besides, you still weren't sure how he felt. Part of you wanted to think that whatever was building up in you was reciprocated, but you were much too scared to act on it without explicit confirmation that he wanted it too.

Even if it was reciprocated, you weren't even sure if you wanted to officially go there. Things were too chaotic and you had never planned to fall in love with your roommate that you had hated so much a year ago. 

You weren't sure—but you couldn't deny that a deep part of you left you longing for more.

they're so stupid skjdfksdf #: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @alexkibutsuji @moonchild-angel

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi #levi ackermann #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #modern!au levi #coffeeshop!au levi #college!au levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #levi fanfiction #fics: matcha

[nerves-nebula]

ough the leo memory comic script is six pages in 11pt size text, formatted as a bullet point list, and i'm halfway through page five so. we're almost there folks!! christ alive we're almost there!!

#nnstuff #rambling

[snazzy-suit]

LLoG Progress Update!

Oh dang, it's almost April already?! January went on seemingly forever, February passed pretty normally, and March lasted, like, a week. Time is soup.

Anyway, I'm unfortunately a little behind schedule, though not by much! I was hoping to start posting the new chapters by the end of March, but they're not quite ready yet. I still have some editing and continuity checks to do, but the good news is, everything is completely written! 🎉

...and it's even longer than I anticipated 😭 As of now, before editing is complete, the total word count for all the upcoming chapters is 50,700.

50,700!

52,175 if I count the missing scene!

The last arc of what was SUPPOSED to be a short story turned into novel-length madness. Unbelievable! Why am I like this??

Here's where everything stands as of now:

Chapter 5.4 - Complete. Awaiting final continuity check. Word count: 8,220

Chapter 5.5 - Complete. Awaiting final continuity check. Word count: 7,104

Chapter 5.6 - Draft Complete. Undergoing edits. Current word count: 5,580

Chapter 5.7 - Draft Complete. Undergoing edits. Current word count: 8,097

Chapter 5.8 - Draft Complete. Undergoing edits. Current word count: 8,258

Chapter 5.9 - Draft Complete. Awaiting review. Current word count: 6,760

Chapter 5.10 - Draft Complete. Awaiting review. Current word count: 6,681

Some additional notes/tidbits:

Missing Scene - Takes place between the end of chapter 5.6 and about halfway through chapter 5.9. I couldn't figure out a way to include this that didn't feel jarring. If I like it enough, I'll post it separately from the main story. Current word count: 1,475

Chapter 5.7 is a flashback that was originally going to take place about halfway through chapter 5.6, but as you can see based on the word count, it got away from me. ^^' I decided to turn it into a separate chapter as a sort of "breather" between 5.6 and 5.8. I really enjoyed writing it, but there's a chance I may have to cut it from the main story if I feel it's too disrupting. If this is the case, I'll post it separately as another missing scene.

Chapter 5.4 is my white whale. It's undergone the most rewrites and is largely responsible for the long hiatus. I've found it's one of my least favorite chapters in this particular story and at this point I don't know if it's actually bad or if I'm just sick of looking at it 🫠

My disgruntled feelings for chapter 5.6 (the first half, anyway) rival that of chapter 5.4, which is unfortunate, because this chapter is supposed to be "The Big Reveal". Am I over-explaining things? Is this too vague? These are the questions I struggled with in this chapter and I don't know if I'll ever be satisfied with the results.

I never start a chapter knowing how long it's going to be. I just create an outline and go. As long as I check off all the major points in a satisfactory manner, I don't care if the chapter is 1,000 words or 8,000 words. That said, I try to avoid going over 10,000 words for any one chapter so as to not overwhelm readers (and myself) with a bunch of Things in a single sitting. So! When chapter 5.8 started cresting 15,000 words I was like "oh no" and immediately searched for a good spot to split it in two.

That's all I got for now! We're almost there, folks!

Tl;dr - if I don't start posting chapters by the end of April, feel free to shame me with an "L" in my DMs lol 🙈

#LLoG AU #story update #haha wow what a mess #but hopefully it will be worth it! #suit speaks

[merrydock]

Older Than the Universe — Chapter 28: The Core

Hey, folks! A new chapter is out now!

You can read Chapter 28: The Core on AO3 here.

Many important discoveries to be made, but first, a small detour to the Observatory. What good is being stuck in a time loop if you can't test out ways to break some good news?

Next week, we go somewhere...Perhaps a little unexpected. There are only so many places left to explore, so major discoveries are going to start coming fast.

Thanks to all who have been reading. We're approaching the halfway point now and it's absolutely crazy to me!! See you next week for Chapter 29!

#older than the universe #outer wilds #outerwilds #fanfiction

[macksting]

The last week has been a lot. So. Youse folks may be aware we're homeless. The lease ran out and we had no income and no jobs lined up, so we were just picking the best place to be homeless and trans, and the answer was where we had the most friends and family, back home in a state I really thought I'd never see again. (Not for lack of affection. It's a weird place.) We took a flight at the worst time, over the New Year, risking being part of the COVID spike. I even thought I had it. I think I caught the flu on that flight. We stayed at a motel for a few nights, then that ran out, and we stayed with some friends. However, the terms of their lease meant we couldn't stay long. They decided, as the weather got worse and worse, to let us stay longer than they originally intended; family shouldn't let each other freeze, and they're found family. However, that was set to run out on Thursday, that is two days from now. On Saturday, the transformer exploded outside. Two inches of ice all over town, much of it very dangerously smooth. Finally, after 70 hours without heat or electric light, with propane and lamp fuel running out, they said fuck this and started setting up to leave, and we were not presented with the option to stay. But at that point the slightly above-freezing weather and rain had begun to freeze over again, making a shiny new layer of ice over everything that had at best only maybe smoothed out or slightly thawed. We prepared to book it to the next place, which ostensibly would let us stay one night because of overcrowding, but that was before the ice storm. We haven't asked how long we can stay here. Getting here was its own ordeal, though, and I was starting to wonder if my meager B&E skills would come into play somewhere downtown.

Anyway, we helped free the neighbor's van. It wasn't at all certain how that was going to pan out; we tried calling friends, but everyone was trapped or unwilling to endanger themselves to get us. We did call a Lyft. The brave, foolhardy soul got to the foot of the driveway, which is at times a 25 to 30 degree grade of slope and iced over despite great efforts to keep it clear. He got to the bottom, we failed to coordinate efforts, and he decided fuck this shit (I do not know what words he used) and left, and I respect that. Discretion is the better part of valor, so Cicero said.

The neighbor ventured out, got gas and air for their tires, and returned, and with our friends' help we lowered ourselves and our baggage into the van, which got halfway up the drive before it was able to progress no further. Our kiddo slid down holding the line in one hand and sliding on a flattened cardboard box. Lovie was at the bottom, loading luggage in the back. It's a damn wonder, frankly. Interestingly, it was in the door I freed up, breaking most of my fingernails and causing both a small wound and a blood blister in the process. Anyway, we are now iced in at a place that has power, and kbities, and my child is playing with friends they haven't seen in nearly three years, and it's a lot. We haven't asked how long we can stay. We suspect everyone's playing it by ear. Lovie's handling it all better than I am. She's a trooper, a soldier. I'm a mess, always have been.

So yeah. That's where things are at now.

[ID: A game of klondike solitaire on real cards by lamplight; very dim, no other light sources. Red tablecloth. Cozy and moody. /ID]

#my cruft #just stuff #ice storm #winter #making memories

[homomenhommes]

STORY: Serve and Protect

This story features law enforcement, woodland scenes, and conversations about the urban renewal of post-industrial towns, so it's obviously intended for mature readers and those of a sensitive nature should stay away. But the rest of us ordinary folk who like gay porn, and of course any hypno-addled post-people who feel a deep calling to inhuman servitude, should enjoy it just fine.

Written under the direction, and in the service, of hungkinkbot2024.

***

"Yeah Frank, you wanted to see me?" Tony's head craned in through the door, a tired grin on his 35 year-old face.

"Sit down," Frank motioned. "I have an assignment for you, undercover stuff. Lots of overtime, definite promotion if it goes right."

Dropping heavily into the chair opposite Frank's desk, Tony smiled. "I haven't heard anything I don't like yet."

"We're getting to that."

"You know that new place on Kimbolton Street?"

"Wha, the fag place?" Tony's lip curled with disgust.

"Yes, the gay bar."

"Oh fuck Frank--"

"Hear me out before you run out of here screaming. We have it straight from the mayor's office he wants the place closed, and preferably bulldozed for a car wash or self-storage by the end of the year. When it first opened last year, everyone assumed it would close quickly. The area just doesn't have a gay population, particularly that kind of gay population, to support a business like that. But the crowds have been building, steadily. Two months ago, the owners approached the company that owns the defunct department store across the street about using their lot for overflow parking on the weekends. Rumor is, they're thinking about expanding. But the worst is, Sally at the real estate office is saying there's been inquiries--"

"Inquiries?"

"Some of the bar's clientele is looking to buy homes in the neighborhood."

"Like, couples?"

"Not in the sense that you and I think of couples, no. And best we leave it at that. But the consensus is, things are at a tipping point. Either we act now, or pretty soon the character of our town is going to start to change beyond our control. We've already tried the drug angle, and the liquor license angle, but the owners of this place seem to be able to catch whatever it is we throw at them. And they know all the officers we've sent their way. But you're new, and you've been on homicide, so we're thinking a fresh face might catch them off guard."

"So what do you want me to--"

"Go there. Find something illegal. Hell, make something up if it's halfway plausible to a jury picked from the Baptist Church. Try to get evidence if you can, and if you can't we'll work with what we have."

"So you're asking me to--"

"Don't say it, but you get the idea. If that bar's closed by summer you're a hero and the mayor will probably do for you whatever's going on in the men's room there--"

Tony's jaw fell in shock. "So how far do I go with this?"

"How far should I know? We don't expect you to get your cherry popped. And like I say, come up with the right story, and this may not take very long at all."

"Can't I just stay on homicide?" Tony pleaded. 

"Sadly there's a shortage of people killing each other in this town, and you have to earn your supper, so, off to the fag bar with you."

"Fuck," and with that Tony let off a low sigh.

"Do yourself a favor and hit the gym a few times before you go out there. And get yourself some cologne and some underwear your mother didn't buy for you. This isn't for that slut you've been seeing who works at the Hallmark Store who drinks a thousand calories a day in cosmos."

2.

The new bar was in, like most everything else in this faded factory town, a building repurposed from its original use. First the ground floor had been a feed and seed, with the upper stories devoted to the owner's residence. Then, a florist, then a tailor's, the second and third floors sitting empty until finally the whole building fell into decrepitude. 

When carpenters first showed up to restore the building, the locals were actually excited. Even when the black windows went up, and the sign in the strange lettering saying simply CODE, the neighborhood was on balance positive and curious. It was only opening night weekend that optimism turned to horror.

The clientele's gear had sent the town's ministers and grandmothers rushing to consult the state criminal code. But sadly, peaked caps, chaps with jeans underneath, and leather vests violated no laws. Still, a good number of the local community were looking into it.

At 10pm on a Friday, Tony was hanging back from the door, watching the people enter. Some of the outfits were pretty wild. He was worried what he might do if a man made a pass at him. Or what he might do if he ran into someone he knew. But then, whoever he ran into would have as much to explain as he did.

Time to be a cop, he told himself, and barreled in, showing his driver's license at the door before filing into a line for the bar. Though he had a few extra pounds on him, he immediately felt eyes on him in the place.  It made his skin scrawl. The music was some driving, grinding techno nonsense. He quickly realized his discomfort was showing.

A drink would help. He found a narrow space at the crowded bar. Frank had a point, he realized: where were all these fags coming from? There had to be more gays in this place than the nearest five counties combined.

"First time?" With a start, Tony realized the bartender was talking to him. 

"Ah," he panicked, "I'll have a gin and tonic."

"Sure thing buddy. And nice shirt. I didn't realize the International Male catalog was still a thing."

Tony didn't see what was wrong with his shirt, and didn't say anything as he put his money down and collected his drink. Relaxing a bit, he figured he would explore. Someone would have to be doing something illegal somewhere in this dump.

He was no further than five steps past the bar when he heard a voice to his left: "You seem tense."

A thin handsome man, maybe ten years older, grinned at him. Tony returned it, best he could: "Ah, work stuff."

"What do you do?" the man asked, drink in hand. Only now did Tony realize he wore a gray leather uniform shirt and breeches.

"I'm a financial advisor," he lied, horribly. He realized he had no idea what he would say if this guy asked him anything about stocks. What did ETF stand for again?

"Oh, that's wild, you look like a cop to me," the man replied. Which, coming from this guy in his police-state outfit seemed outrageously funny.

Tony just blushed. And the man laughed: "Oh, got it in one try, didn't I? It's okay, everyone has to have a master somehow."

"Well it's okay Mr. Cop, nobody is going to bust your secret to your friends back at the station. I mean, though there are antidiscrimination laws this day and age, this is a pretty conservative town. It might not go down too well."

"No, it wouldn't," Tony laughed, but then almost immediately his face fell.

"So," the man kept at him, "why do you look so stressed? Didn't meet your traffic ticket quota?"

"Ah," Tony fumbled. "I've never been to a place like this before." That much was true.

"Then you definitely need to relax." 

"So what's your name?" Tony tried, gamely. 

"Just call me sir."

"Really?" Tony chuckled.

"Really."

Tony waited for something more, but sir said nothing else about it.

Finally, sir asked, "so what's your name?" 

"Jared," Tony lied. 

"That's a nice name Jared," sir cooed back, as if he was not fooled for a moment. "So are you always this stressed?"

"I'm fine, really," Tony answered with a nervous jerk of the head.

"No, let's get you relaxed," sir countered, putting his hand on Tony's shoulder and squeezing.

Finally Tony got it. This might be his ticket. "Uh, sure. What do you have?" Suddenly Tony was aware why he had never been chosen for undercover work before. Great white sharks biting at chum were more subtle.

"There's a patio area out back. It's a bit chilly, but there's a nice fire pit and it's much less noisy and crowded. Follow me." With that, sir turned and went, not even waiting for Tony's answer. 

Startled, Tony sprung into action and followed sir out the rooms that obviously had held the previous businesses' storage and inventory.

Finally they were outside on the clear, chilly night. The large fire pit roared. Deep couches were arranged around it. Tony saw one couple talking, the elder man leaning in to the younger's ear, his hand on his knee. Two other guys were stting out there by themselves, watching the flames, oddly quiet. Tony assumed they were off their heads on drugs of some kind.

He was definitely getting somewhere.

"So, what do you have?" He asked again, once again bringing to his own mind the great white.

Sir chuckled as he sat down on the only completely unoccupied couch, which looked thick and comfortable. "Just this," he said, pulling out two ear buds from his shirt pocket and holding them out in his hands.

"So, music?" Tony laughed, sitting down next to sir.

"Yeah, music. If you choose to see it that way." Tony didn't know what to make of that turn of phrase.

Sir handed the ear buds to Tony to put in. Tony looked at him disapprovingly. "These are clean, right?"

Sir's face soured a bit. "I promise."

Tony obediently stuffed one into each ear. "Is it more of that techno stuff? Because that really isn't for me." 

A long intake of breath from the cold night air was the next thing he felt. The outdoor lights at the bar had been turned on, people were filing out and leaving. Some of the solitary men who had been out there when Tony and sir walked outside were being rousted too. 

"Dude, you awake?" the kid with the broom in his hand was standing over where he was sitting on the deep couch. "You can't stay here. The bar's closed. You have a place to go, right?"

Shocked, Tony shook himself to. "Yeah yeah yeah, I'm going." And with that he stood up. The sir guy was nowhere to be seen. 

Only then did he look down and see, crumpled in his fist, a sheet of paper. He could just barely read it in the floodlights outside the bar. "You seemed to need sleep so badly I didn't want to wake you. I'm having people over Thursday at 7. Feel free to come." And at the bottom, an address barely four blocks away.

Not bad, Tony thought, for a first night's effort. And with that he stuffed the note in his pocket and walked out.

2.

The next few days Tony tried to figure out what being gay entailed, apart from the obvious. He streamed some HBO shows that seemed authoritative on the matter and realized how badly off his closet was to the purpose. He discovered new words like Grindr, Tumblr and Onlyfans. He learned about tops and bottoms, doms and subs, and why the people at the bar all dressed like they were in the Hell's Angels when he was willing to bet they were actors and florists in real life. And he found it all kind of distasteful, but at least he wasn't handling dead bodies like work usually required of him.

Then on Tuesday he came in from lunch to check his office email. There was one from an outside address with an unfamiliar personal name. Curious as to how it made it past the filters, Tony clicked on it.

*

boy-

I hope work is less stressful for you today than it was the other night. Sometimes we need others to take the burden of responsibility for us. It's alright for you to do so. Below is a link to a relaxation game that will help.

Sir

*

Tony rage-typed three responses, each one angrily asking how sir got his work email, and why he thought it would be appropriate writing him there. But each time Tony realized if he did so, he would lose his connection into this subculture. At the same time, his curiosity about the link grew.  

Eventually he clicked on it, albeit with the sound off. It was harmless enough. Just patterns, words and colors. A clock in the corner counted down to ten minutes and then it spontaneously closed, leaving Tony disappointed. He realized in passing he had been massaging himself through his uniform pants for a good while, but then shook to and got back to work.

He clicked the link at home two or three more times that evening. He ignored Izzy's—his girlfriend's—messages about coming over. He knew she would ask him about work, and either he would have to lie or it would be this whole big thing with her.

Instead, at the end of the night, he wrote back:

*

Dear Sir,

Thanks for the link. All the same, I'd appreciate it if we kept our communications off my work account. I saw your note about Thursday, and I'll see you then. Looking forward to it!

* 

Then he hesitated. His first instinct was to write the name he had given him the first night, Jared. But if sir had written the work email, he knew his real name was Tony and that he had lied. He was at a loss. So in the end, he just signed it boy, which he knew Sir would like anyway.

3.

Exhausted from his new gym regimen, Tony unlocked his door and stepped in. What he saw was so surprising he let the bag of groceries fall to the floor. He heard the eggs break in the carton.

"I talked your super into letting me in."

Sir was sitting there in his living room, in his favorite chair, no less. By his feet was a large duffle bag.

Tony was not about to hide his surprise or anger. "Well I'm going to have a fucking word with him. What the fuck is this?"

"I just thought I'd come over and we'd have a talk."

"Isn't Thursday a good enough time to talk?"

"Perhaps," sir said, holding a framed picture of Tony and Izzy she had given him for his birthday. "But there's no time like the present, really."

"Fuck," Tony steamed, "do you have any idea how inappropriate this is?"

Sir gave him a sly smile. "Well, you can always call the cops if you like."

"So what is this about?"

"First, have you been enjoying the relaxation exercises at the link I sent?"

Immediately, Tony felt his anger start to deflate. "Well, yeah."  

"And are you?"

Tony let a petulant breath out, "Yeah."

"Alright then. Clean up your mess and we'll begin some that you'll like more."

"No way," Tony answered as he went to get a dish towel and started wiping away stray bits of egg and shell that had escaped the bag, and putting his vegetables and other groceries in the sink to be washed. "I had plans tonight."

"You were right. You had plans. And now you're doing this."

"But I don't want to."

Sir gestured to the living room couch. "Sit or lay down, whichever is your favorite."

Tony put the eggy dish towel in his washing machine, then came into the living room.

"Why don't you leave, instead?"

"When we're done." 

"I can't believe this." 

"Well," Sir added, "while you're not believing, take off your clothes."

"Fuck that," Tony snarled, as he removed his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt. "You really do think I'll just do anything you say!" Sliding out of his button up, he took the t-shirt beneath.

All Sir could do was quietly chuckle.

Then Tony unbuttoned his pants and kicked them away.

"Underwear too."

"Goddamn it!" He stepped out of his underwear, the new briefs he had bought, and kicked them away too.

"I hate to edit out your hostility, because it really is darling, but you do understand from now on some semblance of proper courtesy and deference is going to be expected, correct?"

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about?"

Sir laughed again. "We'll work on that."

Then sir zipped open the duffle and pulled out this long canvas thing Tony didn't recognize. "Hold out your arms."

"What is that?"

"Hold out your arms."

"No," Tony cried, and held out his arms while sir slid the straitjacket up them. "No, no, no!"

Sir pulled the jacket around his shoulders, then started fastening the buckles in the back. "This can't be happening." 

"Fine, then it isn't happening if that's what you want to tell yourself."And with that he pulled the last strap into place, fastening it between Tony's legs. Then sir secured the arms at Tony's sides. 

"Very nice." Then he walked back over to his duffle bag, and pulled out a VR headset. "This is going to be a guided exercise. You'll have the benefit of the visual stimulus like you have in the videos, but I'm going to be here helping you, directing you, and maybe asking a few questions along the way."

"No, no, no!" Tony was ranting now. Though he noticed he didn't struggle, and didn't pull away, though he had a full thirty pounds on sir.

Sir stepped behind Tony, pulled the headset into place, and quietly informed him, "when I tell you to look, you will look."

"No," Tony mewled, pitifully.

"Look," sir insisted. Then, holding his hands at Tony's shoulders, he sat Tony down on the couch.

For a few minutes there was nothing. Images flashed on the screen. Tony could not say what they were, but his cock got only more erect. Sir said some things, but he could not say what they were, either.

"Are we relaxed now?" Sir asked.

"Yes?" Tony answered.

"Then let's begin. What were your sergeant's instructions to you regarding Code?"

4.

Frank sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "So, nothing. Nothing at all we can hang on this place. Nothing to so much as justify a visit from the fire marshal?"

Tony bit his lip, apologetic: "I mean, I ran into the same basic issue everyone else did. They have cameras up everywhere in that place. They record everything, and it's all uploaded to an off-premises server. So they have a record of them not breaking the law. Moreover, if I were to create an issue—plant something, provoke a fight, engineer a situation—they would have that on camera too. And the cameras are out of reach. Those old buildings have high ceilings."

"Okay, I'm going to have to think more about this. We have to come up with something. The mayor wants to get this situation resolved soon. Apparently, the hotel out on the interstate is getting a lot of new late-night business from this place. Basically the problem is snow-balling."

"So what should I do?" Tony asked, worried. "I mean, I can try to force things, but if we're caught making something happen on our side, it'll just leave the department open to legal action--"

"No, no, you're right. We have to be careful," Frank added, smoothing back his jet-black hair. "Keep trying to find something. Be vigilant. Moreover, be on the lookout for opportunities, a way in which if the right people said the right things, we could close the place for good and send some of these fuckers to jail. Think dissatisfied employees, angry drunks willing to make up a story, that sort of thing."

Tony nodded. "Sure thing."

"And I hate to tell you," Frank added, "but if we can't find something, I'm going to have to send you back to homicide."

"I understand." 

"Okay, well, it's late enough as it is. You go ahead and get out of here," and with that Frank forced a smile.

"Okay." Tony stood, and walked to the door to leave.

"Oh one thing. Tony, have you lost weight?"

"Gotta look the part, Sarge!"

"Ha ha ha, that's the spirit." And with that, Frank shooed Tony out the door.

As soon as Tony was out the door it felt relieved. It pulled its phone out of its slacks pocket, stopped the recording it had made of the meeting with Frank, and sent it to sir via text. 

Within seconds a text came back from sir. Its eyes passed over it but did not register consciously what it said. Its thumbs typed out a message but it had no idea what it said.

More and more, there were things it had no access to. Things it heard, things it saw, even things it said, that it was not allowed to know or to understand. These things were filtered, or blocked by its own consciousness, which was now essentially a tool of sir inside its skull.

It made it hot to think about the betrayal of it by its own mind, its reduction from him to it, its descent into being a mere automaton with a perpetual hard-on and a vacant stare.

It would have to ask one of the hypboys to help shave its asshole. Tonight it would be on stage, it would wear the latex skin with the latex sheathe in the ass that went all the way inside, and it would spear itself with the dildo in front of all those men, the drones, the hardcore perverts, the hypnocurious, the suburban dads trying to figure out how to make their wives like that. It would wear a featureless hood, of course, but they all knew who it was. It was the thing that used to be a police officer but now only pretended to be. It was their guardian snitch, their own inside man, who was not a man any more at all.

It remembered the first time it had been on that stage, driving the dildos up its ass, squatting so low, demonstrating its abasement, watched by a ring of men, some in leather uniforms, some in catsuits,some in blue jeans worn straight from work at the tractor dealership, all leering, some with mouths agape, while they were serviced by catsuited anonymous drones, the backs of shining black heads rising and falling in rhythm against the men's crotches.

It adjusted itself inside the chastity cage it wore all the time now, which itself was concealed inside the latex singlet he wore to work, the bare arms and legs a concession to the possibility somehow they might become visible. But sir had already drilled it with the story: if its latex trueskin was revealed at work it would just tell its fellow police that as part of the undercover it was rushing a fetish club, that they expected the chastity and fetish gear to be worn all the time, and it didn't know when it might run into one of them.

Its cock pushed against the cage it was locked inside. It pinched. That made it harder. It was horny all the time now, and so needy, and so submissive, and so stupid, and it all seemed like a spiral that would go on forever. Tony came up on his desk. Sitting directly across from its desk was Jimmy, forehead cradled in his hand, poring over paperwork from the day's arrests, baldspot clearly visible.

The words, which were sir's, just came to it and forced their way out its lips. The thing formerly Tony had no choice in the matter, it just transmitted as instructed, with no thought or reservation. "Hey, Jimmy. You seem stressed. You wanna try something cool?" 

5.

"Get the fuck up!"

Tony shook itself to, and blinked its eyes open. Its brother was standing there in its bedroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" It cried out, as if it were human.

"What the fuck am I doing here? What the fuck am I supposed to do? You haven't answered a text in three weeks! You missed Estelle's birthday party yesterday afternoon, without so much as a call or an explanation as to why. I called Izzy last night to check up on you, only to find out you had dumped her over the goddamned phone!"

"I'm sorry, Louis. Work's been--" Tony started.

"Work's been shit! You can't put on some kind of act like it's "Special Victims Unit" or some bullshit when we all know there's not been a crime problem in town since Dad died!"

"Look," Tony struggled, "I've just been going through some--"

"You're pale as fuck and look as if you've lost weight. Is it drugs? You swore to me when you joined the force you weren't going to be that kind of cop!" Louis was thundering, shaking, almost in tears.

"No, it's not drugs. I promise."

"Then fucking what!" Louis screamed.

"Can you just dial it down some?" Tony pleaded. "I'll tell you what. I'll come over this afternoon, see Estelle, make it up to her, we'll have a good time, maybe grill some steaks. And then if you still want, we can talk about things."

"Like I don't know when you're fucking stalling."

"Just let me get up, get a shower, make some coffee, and then we'll talk, okay? Please." With that, Tony reached for its phone, eager to see if there was a message from sir, and just as eager to see if sir might have an idea for how to deal with this situation.

"We'll fucking talk now!" And with that Louis yanked the covers off the bed. "Well Jesus fuck."

There, in front of him on the bed was Tony's naked body, metal cage encasing his cock, attached to a ring behind his ball sack, the steel base of a plug clearly visible in his asshole.

"What is this? What is all this?"

"I told you I had been going through some shit, man." Now it was Tony's turn to choke back tears.

"So, are you gay now?" The passion had drained out of Louis's voice.

"It's complicated." Tony didn't actually know the answer to the question. Homosexuality was an orientation that belonged to a subset of humans. If it was no longer human, it could no longer lay claim to such human descriptives.

"Do you have someone? You know, in charge of you?" 

Tony was certain it was not supposed to betray its relationship with sir to anyone, certainly not its emotionally distraught brother. "I really need to ask you to leave."

"And I need to know if someone fucking owns my brother!" He howled.

"Just please, go." 

And with that, Louis stomped out. Tony heard the front door slam hard behind him. Finally alone, it realized after a while it was softly crying.

6.

Tony was stomping through the forest alone, in the fading light of day. The duffle it carried was heavy, but it knew that the destination was just over the next rise. It had been listening to one of sir's less demanding programming scripts, perfect for time by itself while it was performing some activity.

More and more, it thought of itself as unoccupied and bored if it didn't have the scripts going in the background while it performed some task or other. Work, devoid of the scripts for eight or nine whole hours at a time, was becoming more and more painful. 

But Tony also understood there were drawbacks to constantly listening to sir's scripts. For instance, it distracted it from ambient noise in the physical environment that it would be better to pay close attention to. Tony keenly understood this when his ears finally picked out the sloshing of feet through deep leaves that were not its own, but were some mere paces behind it. 

Alarmed, Tony swung around. There, maybe thirty feet behind it in the failing light, was Louis. 

"You're following me?"

Louis acted calm, though it was plain he had been crying. "I want to see where you're going. I want to make sure you're safe."

"You can't come with me," Tony begged. "This isn't a place for you." Tony, as deep within sir's programming as it was, winced at the thought of this pollution finding its way to its brother, a family man, happily married. Sir wouldn't think twice about converting Louis into another drone. And though it knew it eventually would inform sir of Louis's discovery of the whole situation, it wanted as much as its programming to permit to warn Louis off, save him, and save his family. "Just please take my word for it. You need to go home now. Forget what you saw at my house this morning. Forget everything."

"How long have you had these feelings?" Louis gulped. "To be hurt, dominated?"

"Just go home, Louis. This isn't for you."

"Just, no bullshit, tell me where you're going. Right now." Louis was calm, but still adamant.

"There's an abandoned veterinary hospital out by the old highway. It has everything we need. Examination tables. Hoses, Pens. We park on the other side of the woods on private property where it's not visible from the road."

"And the bar in town?"

"Is the decoy. Nothing real happens there."

"So what happens if I go with you to this place you and your new friends have out here. Am I going to find myself in one of those pens?"

"Maybe," Tony answered, stone-faced. Almost certainly, it thought to itself.

"Only one way to find out," and with that Louis started walking. He strode calmly past Tony and kept going. "Well come on," he called back behind him.

"Don't," Tony squeaked.

"Well if they're too awful for me, why aren't they too bad for you?" Louis's tone was accusatory. "Here's what I don't get. When we grew up, pretty much all we had was each other. And I thought we shared with each other everything."

Louis turned and walked up to Tony. It was dark now. "So," Louis continued, "why couldn't you tell me this? Why couldn't you share this with me?"

What Tony wanted to say was that it didn't have these feelings until a few short weeks ago, when the programming made him into it. But that same programming wouldn't let him answer.

"Goddamn it, tell me!" Louis yelled.

"I--" Tony started, then stopped. 

But Louis grabbed Tony by the bare arms, as it only wore a t-shirt in the slight chill, and started walking it over to a tall, straight pine tree. 

"What are you doing?" Tony tried to pull away, but the programming that had made it so deferential kept it from resisting at all.

Reaching the other side of the tree, Louis yanked Tony's arms forward so that each one was on opposite sides of the tree and his chest was pressed close against it. Then he pulled from his coat pocket a bungee, which he wrapped tight around Tony's wrists, binding him against the tree. Louis tied off the bungee in a knot that Tony was finding distressingly secure.

"What's this about?"

Louis then approached him, unbuckled Tony's belt, unbuttoned the front of his jeans, and slid them down his ass almost to his knees. Then he pulled the belt out of the loops of the jeans and began to fold it in his hand.

"Do you have any idea," Tony croaked out. "If I had known you were like this--"

Tony's arm went all the way back, and the first strike of the belt on Tony's bare ass made it yelp in pain. "If I had known, you were like this," he repeated.

The belt struck his ass again, and even for all the programming  on welcoming pain, Tony flinched and mewled and started to cry. "If I had known you were like this I wouldn't have wasted all these years!"

The belt struck again, a third, a fourth, a fifth time. "Fuck," Louis howled. "What have I been doing with my life?"

"I asked before," Louis snarled, bringing the folded belt up to the wincing Tony's face. "Do you have someone whose in charge of you? That you serve? No lies!" Then the folded belt made its sixth, seventh, and eighth strikes.

"Yes," finally, Tony conceded, as the programming raged against its violation of the protocols in divulging its secrets.

"But he doesn't own you, does he?" Louis howled in rage, administering the ninth, the tenth and eleventh strikes. Tony had no idea what to say to any of this. 

"Because the only man in his world that can own you, little brother, is me."

Finally, in the dark of the woods, Tony could hear Louis shift his feet, and his arm fall to his side. There would be at least a break before the belt would fall again on its bare ass. But then he heard Louis's belt buckle, his zipper, and spit from pursed lips landing on his palm.

At some point in the belting the plug in Tony's ass had shaken itself out. In passing, Tony felt the necessity to find it and retrieve it before leaving wherever they were, a ridiculous concern to have in the moment. But now he felt his brother's cock pressing against the trapdoor of his hole.

"This?" Louis leaned forward, and whispered in his ear. "Is mine, and it always will be."

And with that the long thrusts started. Tony had always known its brother was not a slight man, and the plugs and dildos had only been so much preparation. It winced, and quaked, and squealed. and tried to arch its back to take the cock better.

Louis slapped Tony hard on the ass as he rammed his brother, so newly meek and dispassionate. He had never desired a woman like he wanted Tony right now. The thrusts were all the way from the bare tip to his full and heavy balls. 

Whatever behavior restraints had been controlling Tony were lost now, Louis thought, as he heard his brother moan and curse uncontrollably at the motion of the cock through him. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Louis reached the vinegar strokes, and with a series of wild spasms came inside his brother. Limp now, he pulled his cock out. Tony felt semen run down its inner thigh. 

Louis went to the other side of the tree to untie Tony's wrists from the bungee. "So, I want you to go ahead and take your pants the rest of the way off. Your new friends, in their rotten veterinary hospital, I want them to see what I did. I want them to know what I am to you. And I want them to understand that whatever they did to you, however you got to be this way, sweet little brother, your pussy is mine."

"Yes," Tony nodded, mind reeling. 

Louis packed his filthy cock back in his underwear, slicked back his hair, tucked his shirt tail in and buttoned his pants. "You know, I think this could be a turning point in our relationship. We really don't spend enough time together. My wife's family has a really nice fishing cabin. It gets used only maybe like twice a year. We could go up there, you know. Have some man-time, if you like."

"Yes," Tony said again, numb.

Louis sighed, and in the dark Tony could imagine there was happiness in his voice. "So, we better get on with it. I need to meet your new friends and have a friendly conversation with them. But first, lay on the ground face up, and open your mouth."

+

+

[avatarvyakara]

Presenting the premier Addy Brock collection from Strands of Webbing!

Starting out with diversion of a canon event because, honestly, [bleep] that noise:

52. React

"DON’T!" she screams. But Ven#m is already halfway towards the M.O.R.B.I.U.S. device, a look of determination on its electronic inFace—

Until, with a grunt, all three point one five tons of SP//dr shoves the other mech out of the way of the beam of light just in time. A nearby building fuses into a twisted mess of metal and glass, like a Vonnegut crystogram.

"What the hell was that for?" comes the angry voice of Addy Brock from Ven#m's modulator.

"Rule number one on this team: you don't get yourself killed to prove a point!" snaps Peni.

Ven#m's inFace expresses strong shock.

"…we're a team?"

"I didn't say that."

That chirpy expression looks really weird in black and neon white. It probably doesn't help that the teenager inside has a much more…smug face, and that Peni can see both of them quite clearly.

"You implied it."

"Shut up. Now help me figure out this thing's weak spot. And don’t you dare die."

(Addy survives. But Peni's not sure, after the loud squeal at the end of the fight, whether her eardrums are going to last the week.)

60. Introductions

“You’re welcome to stay longer,” she tells Gray with a little hesitation, as they sit atop the New Chrysler eating putty-cakes from a street vendor below. “You could actually come over.”

His eyes shine, but his brow wrinkles—for once he’s got the mask off. He looks like Peter Parker. He looks nineteen. (Thirty. Eighty.)

“I don’t know if your folks would be okay with that.”

“You already met Addy.”

“Well, yeah.” Admittedly, she did threaten Gray with a fate worse than death and a mech. Neither of which seemed very effective to the other Spider, who had just laughed. One Saturday she’d be very happy to forget, honestly. (But he laughed, so there was some success that day.)

“I’ve been trying to explain this to them, the whole multiverse thing,” she says, and huffs. “They still think I’m crazy. Or that I’m lying and that I’ve actually just gotten myself some shady lowlife koibito to spite them.”

Gray’s face hardens. “If that word means what I think it means, then they should know way better.”

But it softens again when he looks at her. “But a six-foot-three-inch-tall nineteen-year-old with a face like a darned sock isn’t going to be much help to you, kiddo.”

“You’re literally from another dimension—”

“And I look scary. I won’t be making it easier for you on my own, not with how you say your aunt and uncle are. Maybe you can get Miles and Gwen in on this?”

She wants to protest, but then he says: “Maybe Ham and Peter too, Make an outing of it for the whole cluster. That way the others can distract them a little.”

“...I guess that makes sense.” He’s her best human friend, and she wanted to recognize that. But even so...maybe that would be better. She was able to pass off Miguel as a Mercurial pen-pal with a cosplay addiction (most Earthers will believe anything about the decadent and obscenely wealthy and more-than-slightly inhuman Spacers), but the rest are going to be harder—her black-and-white and cartoon counterparts especially. Telling the whole story, with proof, becomes easier if there are kids her age to help soften the blow. (Plus, Peter B couldn’t look threatening if he tried.)

Still.

“You’re not scary, though,” Peni insists. “Not to me.” She grins. “You’re too much of a dork for that.”

He squeezes her shoulder, and gives her a smile no less warm for being in monochrome. “Whereas you frighten the life out of me, doll.”

She hugs him. This time around, he doesn’t resist.

“...seriously, though, what’s in that crispy paste stuff?”

“Sun-fried seaweed, Mercury-style.”

“...it’s not too bad. Tastes kinda like latkes. Like a latke dough, but you can eat it.”

“It’s pretty good. My favourite’s yungay potato.”

“Ah, a lady of quality.”

She laughs at that.

80. Comrade

Adelaide Brock is fourteen when she makes her first two real friends. People who actually get it. Who understand the thrill of the ride, and the joy of the psychic link.

They have their differences, of course. Peni’s more of a drill sergeant in the field, always efficient, applying incredible precision. Addy’s always been more of a performer at heart, and her spider (her spider), Weying, seems to sympathize. Ven#m likes the spotlight, isn’t really up to just fighting and heading home, prefers to mug for the crowds and crow over a few muggers. (And occasionally fantasizes about trapping and eating the monsters they defeat like the oversized prey they are, but that’s spiders for you.) Maybe it’s showboating a little, but hey, if you have a ship, why not display it?

But at the end of the day...Peni saved her life. Soon after, she saved Peni’s. They’re a team. They’re actually talking. And she and Weying have been working together for ages now, and New York loves them. Life is good.

Now, if only Peni would actually let her know who she keeps talking to on that weird 2D group chat of hers...

170. Hardcore

“...until ultimate termination.”

Peni blinks.

“Are you sure we’re the same person?”

Other Peni rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Even if your SP//dr is a bit...”

“A bit what?”

“You know...impractical? For fighting bad guys?”

Peni frowns. “Mostly kaiju, actually.”

“You sit in a glass cockpit and punch giant monsters and somehow you’ve survived as SP//dr for...how long now?”

“Three years. How about you?”

“Two. ...oh, no, there is no way you’re older than me. You look twelve!”

“Uh...I’m sixteen.”

“Ah, Peni! I see you’ve met Peni?” says Ham, striding through the workshop with a sandwich and out the other side. “Have fun!”

“I guess,” mutters Other Peni.

“...Dad’s death still bothering you?”

“What? No, that was ages ago.” Other Peni sighs, which helps Peni feel less like yelling at her dismissive tone (which would be counterproductive). “Mostly it’s just the job. It...kinda grinds down on you after a while.”

“...I guess I can relate to that.”

Other Peni coughs. “So...you like listening to music while you work?”

Peni lights up. “Do I? Come on, let’s get the sound started. Have you heard anything by Karam Heiwa?”

For the first time in the entire conversation, Other Peni smiles.

“I can see you’ve got good taste.”

“It’s probably a Peni Parker thing,” says Peni, conversationally. “Gray’s stuck on swing, Peter B’s more Silver Age Electric, and Gwen’s into punk, but you just can’t beat KH for tunes to work with.”

Other Peni cautiously goes through the playlist on the holographic display, as though she’s worried about breaking something. Then her faces lights up.

“Hey, is this ‘Nuke-ular’? I haven’t heard this album in ages!”

...of course Other Peni would choose the most depressing song in the mix. Still, baby steps.

183. Talk

The first time Addy stops by the workshop when Other Peni is there, Other Peni is furious at Peni for suggesting she come and say hi. Genuinely furious.

The second time—after some prompting and a long discussion where Other Peni Parker cries for the first time Peni remembers—Other Peni is there to greet her.

“Uhhhh...Peni? Is that you? You look tired. And...older.”

“...hey, Addy. It’s me. This is gonna sound weird, but...I’m from another dimension and I just...kind of wanted to see you again.”

She sounds so tender.

Addy blinks.

“It’s okay,” says Peni, coming around to the front of the space. “She’s...a friend. Sort of. But you have to keep this a secret. This is beyond mech stuff, it’s insanely important. Swear?”

Addy nods, wide-eyed.

“Good! You two have fun!”

“Peni, you weren’t supposed to—” Other Peni growls, but Peni’s already wheeling herself out.

It should help. She knows it would help her. And she’s about 90% certain Addy will forgive her, and has fifteen different prospective options to hasten that process.

...figures that when she steps back in, Addy and Other Peni give her rather evil grins.

“You know,” says Other Peni casually, “the nice thing about being the same person? It means you’re already well aware of a fair few...embarrassing incidents.”

“...you didn’t.”

“Me? No, no. We just traded life stories. If they match up, it’s just a coincidence, right?”

Addy cackles.

“I’ve created a monster.”

“Aw, lighten up, Choking Hazard.”

“Adelaide Brock, you swore not to tell a living soul—”

“Actually I just said I’d only talk about it with you. And, well...”

Other Peni laughs.

(The sacrifices one makes for the good of one’s fellow Spiders...)

238. Rudolph

“If you think I’m missing this, Peni Parker, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Addy...I don’t know. I mean, yes, you got bitten, but...I’ve never met another Addy Brock out there. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Addy tosses her head back and offers her friend an easy grin. “Then I won’t get hurt. Simple as that. Trust me, Peni. I know when to pull back now.”

Peni sighs. “Fine. But be careful, right? Follow my lead.”

The red SP//dr enters the hole in space just before the black Ven#m does, and leads the way.

And on the other side—

“Hey!” calls Miles happily, coming over to meet them. “Glad you could make it!”

“...hi,” says Addy, blushing quite pinkly all of a sudden.

Peni rolls her eyes. “Excuse my friend. Addy, this is Miles Morales, Spider-Man. Miles, my best friend and coworker Addy Brock and her Spider Weying, alias Ven#m.”

“...how are you pronouncing that?” asks Ham. “Hey, I thought me and Mister Egg Cream over there were your best friends.”

Gray looks like he’s trying not to grin. Peni can feel a blush coming on herself. “I’ve got four best friends. Addy’s the only one you guys haven’t met yet.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” says Miles easily. “And Happy Hanukkah!”

(“Should I tell him you’re a Zuhariyya Muslim?”

“Nah, it’s okay.”)

297. Tea

“So, that’s one Earl Grey for Billy, one Boba for Peni, two Green for Hida and Other Peni, one Black for Cindy, one Lemon Grass for Roshni, and one Masala Chai for me,” says Pavitr, taking notes.

“I feel like we’re inviting stereotypes here,” says Roshni.

“I don’t reckon so,” Billy replies, preemptively reaching for the sugar.

“For Peter...coffee. And a reminder of what civilization looks like when you don’t commit blasphemy.”

Pauker glares. “I told you, that was in Boston!”

“And a Peppermint for Addy.”

On her shoulder, Weying the spider bounces excitedly.

“...no, Addy.” That’s from both Peni Parkers at the same time, exasperated in different ways.

“Aw, man...”

322. Mitosis

“Don’t count on it working,” says Other Peni. “And be careful.”

Peter cracks his knuckles.

“Just gotta give it the ol’ college try.”

And he walks up to the bulky form of Ven#m. Not as nice-looking as Addy’s, honestly. And a cannibal at that. Joke about it though he may, he doesn’t much like cannibalism.

Peter doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing, but there’s always such a thing as giving it the ol’ college try.

(Granted, he never went to college.)

—what are you?—

“Me? I’m just a good buddy here to annoy you into spitting out my friend’s loved ones.”

The capsule opens, revealing a tangled mess of cable-like tentacles that snake towards him.

—is Peni so desperate that she’s sending in cartoons to aid in her futile endeavours?—

—hahahaa—

—don’t make me laugh, little piggy—

—we are Ven#m—

—what are you going to do?—

—“huff and puff and blow my house down”?—

Peter pulls out the giant horn his niece Dahlia sent back from a trip to Switzerland.

“Something like that, yeah.”

362. Celebrity

Do I get one? I get one! Wheeee! ...um. Sorry. Anyway.

My name is Addy Brock. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for five years I’ve been one third of the one and only Ven#m. I’m from New York in the year 3150, I have a psychic link with a spider who lives inside the robot I tried to take for a joyride when I was fourteen, and my best friends in the world are Peni Parker and Weying, the aforementioned radioactive spider.

Pretty sure you know the rest. Saved the city, mugged for the camera, saved the city again and again, had a hundredth-of-life crisis during which I, uh...we don’t really talk about that. (I’m banned from Greater Peru until I’m eighty-five, on a completely unrelated note.) But I got back up. Also, I met an alternate version of my best friend who lost her me and really needed someone to keep her laughing. And that’s me. Addy Brock, clown superhero extraordinaire. (Peter Parker? Never heard of him.) Peni may be the OG, but I’m the sequel that nobody knew they wanted but now can’t get enough of. I’ve even been to Mars on business—you know how difficult it is for an Earther to get direct to Mars, let alone for a job? Usually they hire local, or take on seasonal workers from the ecoships. This is big stuff.

...but at the end of the day, I love being Ven#m. And...I like having friends who get it. I got randomly assigned a last name matching my closest genetic relatives, but Peni and her Aunt May and Uncle Ben are the first real family I’ve ever actually had. So guess what? Ven#m is here to stay, with the Parkers, in the Republic of New York, on Earth.

As long as they’ll have me.

(“Well, then, looks like even reincarnation won’t be enough to let you get away, Addy.”

"And when they get sick of you, me and my aunt and uncle and Other Addy will take over."

“Aw, you guys. Peni Parkers? Ultimate upgrade in superhero mettle. Besides yours truly, of course.”

”How modest.”)

#spider verse #addy brock #peni parker #peter benjamin parker #spider man noir #sp//dr #venom #peter porker #addy x peni #if you squint #pavitr prabhakar #obligatory tea joke #(made PRE-movie thank you!) #strands of webbing #across the spiderverse #happy ending #non canon #because i said so #one shot collection

[delyth88]

Hi folks!

Since its going to be a much more asynchronous experience watching Loki season 2, I thought I'd pin this post to my blog.

I'd love you to tag me when you post your thoughts on each episode 'cause I'll probably miss your post otherwise. And feel free to tag me even if we're not mutuals or anything. :)

I'm coming at this from the position of not really loving season 1 but enjoying some aspects of it, so my comments are likely to be both positive and negative, be warned. This post goes into more detail. But it turns out I've actually really enjoyed the second season so far!

My first reaction to Episode 1 is here. It contains spoilers.

Episode 2 posts here, here, and here. All with spoilers.

Episode 3 here and here.

And a quick rundown and some speculation on the scenes from the trailer we haven't seen yet at the halfway point and after episode 4.

Suspicious looking moments that I think might turn out to be important.

Episode 4 here and here.

Breakdown of the mid season trailer here.

Episode 5 here.

And the series finale Episode 6 here.

#talk to me about loki #loki series #loki season 2 #loki s2 #loki #loki review #loki show #loki series speculation

[a-monthly-rumbelling]

AMR Reboot: December Prompts

We're back! It's been a minute, but I have missed having these prompts for people to use, and I've definitely missed reading the fun fics that folks submit.

Please try not to post until it’s the correct month has started somewhere in the world. This helps to avoid confusion - for a time this isn't going to matter too much, because we'll be posting month by month anyway.

As is tradition, prompt reminders will appear at the halfway point and one week out reminders will also appear. So, without further ado…

Moodboard:

(Many thanks to @peacehopeandrats for help with this month's moodboard).

Non-smut: A character reacts to an unexpected question

Smut: well, potential, spend, burst

Random: (movie quote) "Our survival instinct is our greatest source of inspiration." - Interstellar (2014)

gif:

A reminder for all:

If the prompts are 3-5 words you don’t have to include all of them. Imaginary bonus points if you do :) but zero stress they just have to include a couple in some fashion so it fits the prompt.

If the prompt is a quote you can include it at any point, it doesn’t have to be the opening line.

If the prompt is the image moodboard (multiple images) you can be inspired by one of them, be inspired by two, be inspired by the lot, get a feeling from the thing and not one of the images specifically - it’s all good. There is no wrong way to approach this.

If the images on the moodboard are of Robert or Emilie’s non-rumbelle characters (eg Rush, Macavoy, Claire, Heiro…), don’t feel you have to use that character. They’re just there for a bit of variety.

Anyelle and anyem are welcome if you do want to use them, though!

if you are inspired by the gif prompt, similarly, your creativity is your only limit. It’ll be a real treat to see you might come up with.

Happy Rumbelling!

#a monthly rumbelling #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #amr prompts #december prompts #amr reboot

[bace-jeleren]

Romance the Gathering halfway point highlights!

We're about 12 hours into the first round, and it seems that there are already some clear winners- perhaps, this is an oversight on my part, having decided to go full-random instead of picking who specifically to put in what seed. What's done is done, unfortunately, and there's always a chance to run an underdog poll of things pop off enough!

That being said, regardless, it's clear to see that Chandra/Gideon, a ship that used to have a very solid leg to stand on, and that I thought still had a chance, got kneecapped hard by Forsaken, some even voting against them purely in spite of the wretched novel. It's a once popular ship, and it's been very amusing to watch it get ratio'ed straight into hell.

A shocking upset is to see Jace/Liliana, the once great and looming powerhouse among Jace ships, getting left in the dust by Kaya/Teysa, which was popular during the pre-WAR ravnica block but had since fallen into obscurity once the dust had settled. Enough people have commented that they hadn't even considered it a ship, but I guess that's the power of two beautiful BW-aligned ladies for you.

Very strong campaigns for Jace/Garruk and Jace/Kallist being held in the comments, who are up against everyone's feel-good comfy pair, Jace/Gideon, and the furry kings, Ajani and Brimaz respectively. Only time will tell on those, but they are strong enough arguments being made to sway people to vote in their favor, so best of luck to them!

There's still plenty of time to try and turn the tide on a few of these polls, though, folks! Have fun, and a happy, bloody Valentine's Day!

#magic the gathering #Romance the Gathering

[comfort-questing]

10. stranded

"we need to have a talk, all right? about this whole holding the bridge thing."

"I hate to pull rank," she said, from the better-lit side of the office, where she sat cross-legged on her cot, "but I'm the captain here, and I'm trying to follow the orders we were given."

they chewed their lip for a moment, their eyes straying to the shuttered window, the roar of the river distant in the night stillness. "three, four days till the main army reaches the river. if it's not our post, it's somewhere else... but what are we supposed to do then if we still don't have reinforcements?"

"we're going to."

"you keep saying they'll come for us. but - what if they don't? it's been weeks since we sent the messengers. maybe - maybe we're meant to fail, you know. maybe they're just going to help the South Rapids folk instead."

"we don't know that." she rubbed at the hollows beside her eyes, wind-reddened from watch earlier that evening. "we just have to trust the others, and do what we need to in the meantime."

-

"this whole thing is ridiculous. I know you're the captain, I know it's orders, but - really." they were taking advantage of the situation a little, because she was leaning on them for support on the way up the staircase, leaving haphazard splashes of blood on the stones behind. talk of a captive audience.

"only ridiculous - thing here - is how long - these stairs are." she had bitten her lips white, and her voice was clipped. "this was - just a skirmish - just a test - "

they didn't speak again until they were in her office, among the scattered papers and bits and odds and ends of fort life, the cot in the corner passing for a good rest. she sank down there gratefully and accepted their help undoing what was left of her jacket, the arrow shaft still tangled in fabric and flesh halfway between shoulder and elbow.

"don't move. lie down. I'll get Thomas."

"he's got enough to do - with the other wounded. worse off than me. you've - helped me before, now help me again."

-

the sharp flush of fever on her cheeks, the guarded way she held her sling-wrapped arm against her body, showed them all they needed to know that evening. that, and the sinking sunlight not quite dim enough to hide the sight of approaching horses and riders in the distance, a wider spread of the advance than any of the little scouting bands that had tried their fortress's strength before.

behind them, the river; before them, the enemy; and she was leaning on them for help again, as she organized that evening's guard assignments, the nervous-looking soldiers forcing grim smiles to match her confidence.

they weren't ready yet to contradict her in front of the others. insubordination wasn't a good look, and would make no difference anyway at this point.

only to catch her as she staggered on the way off the walltops, and steady her on the descent into the main keep, and then to pray to whatever merciful Heaven might be listening that her hopes were not misplaced.

although if the lot of them truly were stranded here - abandoned to the incoming attack - then they would stay with her, in any case, till the end.

-

she was finally asleep, sweat-matted hair pinned to her temples, the blankets tousled around her restless form. they opened the door of the office as quietly as they could in answer to the low knocking, trying not to rouse her, the dull sick ache of fear in their chest.

"Captain - oh, lieutenant, it's you, sorry."

"Captain's resting. what's the news?"

another attack, no doubt. more scouts, or archers, or a force organized enough to try undermining the walls. the possibilities were truly endless at this point, and universally unpleasant.

"messenger from the south." the soldier's grin was genuine this time, one of the most credible smiles seen for days if not weeks. "there's five companies on their way to us, should be here by dawn."

they felt their own face pull into a smile, rusty and unpracticed.

"thanks for the news," they said, and found their voice hoarse suddenly, "I'll tell the captain when she wakes."

tell her that she was right, after all; that they weren't alone.

#whump #hurt comfort #whumptober 2023 #whumptober day 10 #I was going to do this earlier but I had to sleep off a wicked headache #anyway #lady whump

[fandomfiish]

@inahallucination @theluminoussunflower and the rest of the DPSblr, HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!

Also @aedan-mills pag nagalaw ang baso happy balentines HAHAHAHAHA imy

Unfortunately, I can't do what I did last year which was a ton of Fics but what can I say, writing fluff is just a great feeling! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS ANDERPERRY FLUFF AND HAVE A GREAT DAY! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- "Where are we going?" Todd asks Neil as he leads them both out of their dorm towards the lush forest.

"The cave," Neil said but didn't continue on leaving Todd to think he's forgotten something. Did he forget that they'll have a meeting today? Might as well ask since he knew Neil wouldn't judge him for forgetting.

"Do we have a meeting with the others? W-We usually go together though?" Neil smiles at him playfully, and Todd would say he's gotten used to that smile. After all, it was the smile that he did before stealing his book, the aerodynamic desk set take off, when they rehearsed for his play at the docks, and when he first asked to kiss him. It's a smile that just sets him aflame, and he doesn't deny that he likes it.

"You'll see when we get there Todd," He stopped then looked at him. "Do you trust him?"

Todd looked at Neil with sincerity in his eyes. "Of course I do."

Neil's expression softens "I'm glad." And he tightens his hold on Todd's hands as they continue their walk to the cave in pleasant silence, listening to the winds rustle the leaves, and the birds chirping.

-----------

Once they arrived at the entrance of the cave Todd didn't see anything different, though the absence of noise coming from inside the cave makes him think they arrived earlier than the others. And when they both entered the cave that's when he see what was different, or what is Neil's plan.

In the middle of the cave was a picnic blanket with a very familiar stereo sitting beside a picnic blanket which smells really good from where Todd is standing. On top of the basket was the book of poems they read during the meetings.

"Wanted to treat you on a date this Valentine's Day, and since we can't actually go outside of Welton we decided to make do with what we can. So, umm ... do you like it?"

He turned to Neil who was already looking at him with a grin. Though Todd knows the other was nervous with how his hands are behind his back.

Todd smiles and takes Neil's hand. "I love it Neil, thank you." Growing closer to Neil who grins before leaning in as well, they meet halfway and soft lips hit him as Neil kissed Todd gently, and a surge of heat pools inside him as he responds leaning into Neil.

Then Neil nips Todd's lower lip and steps away with a soft laugh. "We should probably stop before I-" He didn't need to finish his sentence since seeing Todd's cheeks redden was enough.

"Y-Yeah, good plan." Todd smiles, as Neil leads them both to sit on the picnic blanket. As Neil starts to unload the contents of the picnic basket, Todd unconsciously runs a finger on his lower lips, where the ghost of the kiss still lingers.

Neil notices this and with a grin, he says "We can continue that when we're back to our room alright?" And he laughs when Todd looks at him a blushing mess.

Deciding to give messing with Todd a break, he points to the food he just unloaded, a still-hot pasta, mashed potatoes (Todd raises his eyebrows at that), and a variety of pastries. And for drinks, it's just apple juice.

"Did you make this?" Todd looked at him surprised at the contents since this isn't something the cafeteria makes other than mashed potatoes.

"No." He says embarrassed. "Had to call in a favor." He says and Todd's eyebrow raises at that. Favor? There's only one person who he knows Neil owes a favor.

"Charlie?" Neil nods. "He said he cashed in on his favor at the folks at the cafeteria and they made the meal for us." Todd smiles at that, imagining what Charlie could've done to make it work. Though most likely he's with Knox so that gives him an advantage.

Speaking of the two, they might be celebrating on their own as well, as well as Meeks and Pitts. He smiles at the thought.

"Let's thank them later then?" Neil nods as he gives Todd a fork to dig in with the Spaghetti. Todd turns to the stereo and turns it on, as a love ballad fills the air, the two smile and moved closer to each other as their shoulders touch.

As they ate they begin to eat the same noodle and none noticed until is they found facing each other with a line of paste in between their mouths, Todd blushes while Neil grins starting to nibble his way to Todd who stood frozen.

Soon their noses are touching and Neil looks at Todd asking for permission, Todd nods as Neil's hands find their way to the back of Todd's head, as he leans in and their lips met and Neil will never get used to kissing Todd.

Todd finds Neil's gentle kisses surprising. Given that Neil was always passionate, he thought that would translate to him kissing as well. But when they first shared a kiss on the night after his performance it was gentle, so gently that Todd felt Neil's love. Neil wouldn't explain it to Todd, how he kisses him with utmost gentleness because he still fears that all of this was just a dream, that if he does let go he might lose Tod. But whenever Todd reciprocates the kiss all of his doubts wash away, and he finds himself drunk on kissing Todd.

He can't help it, he loves Todd.

The two find themselves separating to catch their breath and Todd smiles. "I thought you said we gotta wait till we're back at the dor?" He teases and Neil kisses him on the forehead.

"What can I say, you're too tempting." And Todd blushes at that. "And I can't help myself if I wanna show you how much I love you," Neil said before he thought of what he said.

Todd's eyes widen before he feels his eyes watering as he looks at Neil. "Y-You love me?"

Neil finds himself feeling nervous, did he say too soon? But a part of himself said to double down, and so he did. "Yes, I love you Todd Anderson." He said with much sincerity. "And it's no rush if you still don't love me just take you-" He was interrupted by lips on his and he finds himself smiling through the kiss responding with the same fervor.

They separate and Todd says. "I love you too Neil Perry, so much." Neil couldn't contain the smile and hugged Todd tight. The other was surprised at the gesture for a second before he hugs back tight.

With a smile, Neil deemed Valentine's date a success, and with Todd held his hand as they walk back to the dorms. He finds himself living again.

#dead poets society #todd anderson #neil perry #anderperry #knarlie #meeks #charlie dalton and knox overstreet mention #as well as gerard pitts and steven meeks #we love them #we want them happy

[skaruresonic]

We're currently having the same problem with newcomers arriving to the Silent Hill fandom under the impression that James is "emotionless" in SH2 - (which is itself an erroneous assumption) - not due to artistic choice on Team Silent's part but due to "technical limitations." That is to say, folks are spreading around the misconception that Team Silent didn't have the tech to accomplish exactly the vision they set out to, and the remake is what they would have made if they could have. Putting aside how ignorant and condescending this rumor is towards Team Silent's efforts... This is infamously a game where dissociative amnesia, ambiguity, and fugue states drive the narrative's dreamlike sense of disorientation. Characters don't emote logically, that's the entire goddamned point. And yes, folks have absolutely painted Remake!James' highly exaggerated expressions and gestures as an improvement. You can see I'm salty about this because from where I'm standing, it just seems like modern fandoms just plain don't want to meet narratives halfway anymore