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Discover expert tips for installing artificial grass around your pool. Achieve a beautiful, low-maintenance poolside with easy DIY steps!

[ma1dita]

Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK

the perfect weekend

a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

alternate universe masterpost

words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)

summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise

a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE 

(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)

—

This weekend felt like a dream.

Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.

But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)

Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.

But he couldn’t think of how.

He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).

When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).

He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.

Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.

“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”

“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”

Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.

“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”

And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky. 

He’s never needed perfect.

He just needs you.

His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.

You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with? 

“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”

His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.

“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”

You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.

“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.

“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.

“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”

Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.

“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”

“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”

The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.

“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.

You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.

---

(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

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[inabsolutions]

annihilation: the consequence of collision

on ao3 ; 18+ AKA that nier automata android au no one asked for except me cw: pseudocest (unless you count being made in the same factory as being related??), caleb's biting kink, possessive behaviour

“Don’t be mad,” Caleb says.

“Who says I’m mad?” you grumble. “I’m not.”

“Come here,” he says, but not even the subsequent call of your name could sway you. You turn away from him, because just seeing his stupid face is making that imaginary ball of anger in your artificial stomach more severe. When he reaches out from where he’s seated against the metal panels of your make-shift shelter, you huff and slap his pleading hand away.

He sucks in a breath. “Ow—”

You immediately whip your head back, kneeling at his side, trailing a hand worryingly over the flesh wound at his shoulder. The synthetic skin is knitting together, but not fully repaired yet, pink and puckered as it looks, to say nothing of the torn flesh underneath. “What is it?” you fret. “Is your self-healing function not working as it should?”

“I’m okay,” Caleb says. You look up, and there’s a soft smile playing on his lips.

You’ve been had! Tricked and duped and hoodwinked, myriads of other synonyms that are running through the neural wirings of your logic circuits. He ruffles your hair, clearly pleased with himself, and it only serves to incense you. You scowl and pinch his ear, put out by his deception. He winces, but you don’t let up. “Don’t go around taking advantage of my worry like that, X-02,” you say.

“Using model names now, A-01?” he mimics, clearly amused. “You really are angry, huh.”

Reminded of the reason behind your annoyances with him—not mad, you’re not mad, not at all!—your lips twist in a grimace. Not even the nice summer breeze is doing anything to calm you. You’d punch his shoulder, but you don’t want to aggravate his injury and disturb the self-repair process of the nanobots.

“You know what my class is,” you say. “A! And do you know what A stands for, X-02?”

“Definitely not for Execūten,” he says, a strange wryness to his voice. “That’s for X.”

“Anhausen! Assist!” You throw up your hands. “A for Assist, you dummy! But how is this A class supposed to assist the X class like she should if a certain stupid, idiotic X-02 model won’t let her!” You poke at the middle of your chest. “What’s the use for the protocore installed here, you won’t let me use it as I should.”

“To keep you alive.”

“We’re androids,” you say. “We’re meant to serve, not to live. We’re created and booted; we run, but we’re not alive. ”

“That would be too human, wouldn’t it,” he murmurs. “And we’re not supposed to be humans.”

“Exactly. We’re not humans. We’re not alive.”

The primary function of an android is to aid humans. A tool. It’s why you’ve both been running yourselves ragged over this abandoned world, eliminating Wanderers left and right, trying to make this place possible for human habitation. It’s their origin and their home, you’ve been taught. The space station you’ve been dispatched from are mere temporary shelters, just like the place you’re resting at right now. Not a fit home.

And what good is an android who can’t perform her duties? Put out all over again, you pull at the loose blades of grass on the ground, though you take care not to uproot them in your anger. This ruined planet needs all the flora and fauna that could survive in these desolate conditions right now; grass beneath boots and trees shading overhead are already miracles enough.

“...As you say,” he says, that soft smile slipping back on his face as he leans back against the tree.

This idiot! You really wish he wasn’t injured so you could give him a good punch in the arm. And he wouldn’t have gotten injured if he’d just let you resonate with him—but no, every time you attempted to meld your protocore energy with his, all you’d received was a big red alert, RESONANCE PROTOCOL REJECTED. REJECTED, REJECTED, REJECTED, over and over again as he terminated your requests to amplify his gravity Evol. And he covered you so thoroughly while in combat against the Wanderers too—hence the shoulder wound he’s nursing.

“Stupid, dummy Caleb,” you say. “See if I ever help you again. Next time, I won’t even lift a finger. I’ll just sit back and watch as the Wanderers tear you apart.”

Lying again. Of course you wouldn’t. You’d been at this for a long time now, the two of you. Years and years of camaraderie built up through taking on missions together. How could you abandon him now—even if he is stupid. His personality module must be malfunctioning, so stubborn about rejecting your resonance, but every time you insist on a check-up, the scan comes back normal. Maybe it’s an artifact; programmed personalities can become volatile sometimes.

“Don’t be mad,” he coaxes again. “Let’s go scouting tomorrow. Maybe we’ll find some snacks in an abandoned store.”

“Androids don’t need to eat,” you say.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t. Besides, don’t you like the taste?”

This time, when he reaches for you, you let him. He brings your body to his lap, back nestled against him as he interlaces your fingers together. It always feels strange, touching another android like this. Skin-to-skin contact, flesh sensations but wired machinery beneath. Produced and assembled to resemble a human as much as technologically possible, but it doesn’t change the solidity of the metal chassis beneath.

You look up at the sky. Even through the goggles, the residual orange rays of the setting sun stab into your optic nerves. Evening has arrived, and within this shoddy shelter, Caleb holds you against him. He breathes lightly, air landing at your nape as you lean back against his chest. The leaves above rustle, windswept. A gentle sound, so unlike the roars of the Wanderer horde you’d fought off mere hours ago.

“Are you still angry?” he whispers.

“As if my anger’s worth anything,” you mutter. “It’s all a litter of code at the end of the day—why are you so concerned?”

“We’re not built specifically to process emotional pain. There’s no specific module,” Caleb murmurs, “but when you’re angry at me, I feel it anyways. Worse than any physical damage.”

His fingers tap the back of your neck, right above the start to the spinal cord that was the central process for the periphery nerves, and it’s like he’s somehow brushed his hand against all of those nerve endings because your entire body is tingling.

You shift within his embrace, and Caleb absentmindedly plucks at the collar of your dress. Perhaps it’s a conscious gesture, or perhaps it’s subconscious. Either way, you think you know how this night will end. Under him or over him, but either way, with him inside you.

You’re not sure how this began. Why androids even have this function to begin with, when reproduction between two mechanical bodies is impossible. Some strange fascination with mapping every human function to a synthetic body, maybe. You never did understand the whims of those researchers at Ever HQ.

“Caleb,” you say. The name that you’d picked out for him the first week you’d landed on Earth, picked out while flipping through a book titled ‘A Dictionary of First Names’. A fossil of a find. An attempt at mimicking humans again, as though android minds couldn’t help themselves from trying to inch ever slightly closer to their creators. And despite all your protests of not being human, you kept the name he gave you close to your heart too. Ached deep in the joints every time he calls by that human name, as though rusted over. A longing that felt ancient. Anachronistic.

“Caleb,” you say again, when he plucks at the hemline of your velvet dress, far too focused to imply simple curiosity.

“Hm?”

“You’re injured.”

“Not anymore,” he says, and when you twist your head to glance at his shoulder, he’s right. No sign of a visible wound—but who knows about the muscles beneath? Likely not—it takes longer for deeper injuries to be fixed; surface areas were prioritized first in the healing process, because the sludge of spilt blood and mashed muscles and torn wirings made it obvious that the injured weren’t human.

“I ought to report you to HQ,” you say. “X-02, lying again.”

“I’m not. And don’t call me that,” he murmurs, resting his head on your shoulder. An awkward position—he’s too tall for this, has to hunch over for it, but he doesn’t complain. The heat of his breath tickles your nape again. “It’s gege, remember?”

“I’m older,” you protest.

“Only in theory,” he says. “And you were activated after me.”

And annoyingly, he’s right. Your model may have come into existence first, but your activation came later. Owing to some prior defect, you were told—you’re not sure on the details, and there has never been any elaboration given, nor any accessible memories in your data bank. You remember it too, waking up to his face shoved right in your vision.

“We’re factory made in the same facility. All of us are,” you huff. “If I call you gege, I have to call the rest of the older males that too.”

Caleb’s arms around your waist tightens, a possessive grip to his fingers as they dent into your dress. There’s a growl that rumbles from his chest. And here, he slides his fingers up the bottom of your dress, caresses the smooth skin of your thighs with equally smooth fingertips, an inhuman perfection to crafted weapons; cold though, because his right arm has always been strange that way. More metal than the rest of him, in a decidedly un-android way. No blood vessel lining beneath the skin—you’re not sure why the mechanics never fixed it.

“But they don’t know you like I do,” he says evenly. “They’re not close to you like me. They don’t know…” Right on cue, as he pets over your underwear, your breath hitches. “...That when I touch you here, you always flinch. But you become excited anyways.”

“Programmed reaction,” you protest. “Humans are all sensitive like this.”

“Mhm,” he says, and parts aside the fabric there to languidly rub his fingers over your folds—already starting to dew, much to your annoyance. “If you say so.”

You squirm, but he clicks his tongue and spreads his other hand over your hip to keep you in place. Fingers locked around you, metal cuffs around your waist. You can feel his cock rise behind your back, but he doesn’t do anything about it, too intent on having you crashing first. Even despite the fact that you’re right out in the open of your usual camp, he wants to have you; the glade is secure enough, and it’s not as if there’ll be anyone walking in, but still. However, you’ve done this enough times just like this—on grassy fields or granite countertops, against rough bark or brick walls, whatever surfaces available to you in nature and cityscape both—shame is the least of your concerns, not with his one-track mind.

“Want to feel it on my hand,” he coaxes, sliding his fingers across your folds. “You getting wet for me.”

Which, damn him, is exactly what you’re doing. Dripping with arousal, just as he intends. Routine has you spreading your legs and arching your back as he sinks a finger into you. Slow, cold—but warmed soon enough with the heat transfer.

“Tight as always,” Caleb murmurs. “No matter how many times we do it, you always have to be stretched out first. You’re so much work.”

There’s a fondness to his voice that has you hissing, and with the wetness that’s now easily dripping out of you, he takes the opportunity to insert another finger, spreading them out in a scissoring motion.

“Don’t say it like that,” you say. “Like it’s my fault. You know it’s because of—hngh—self-repair!”

“Uh huh. And?”

“And, and—” The steady rhythm of his fingers as they carefully work their way in and out of you has your neural network fried; You grasp at slipping threads to defend yourself against these accusations (which were entirely unfair, in your opinion!) “—it’s only because you’re too big!”

Caleb chuckles, a dangerous, low edge to his amusement. “Keep talking,” he says. “Anything else to pin on me?”

“I just think that—hah—you should get it checked out,” you say. “There’s no way it’s supposed to be that size; either that or those scientists have gotten strange ideas in their heads. And you’re always wanting to go at it too, so there’s clearly a glitch in the coitus faculty of your logic circuit.”

“Not a malfunction,” Caleb says. “That’s just me, pretty girl.”

Your face flushes. “At least let them modify the size to make it easier on me—!”

Caleb grinds the heel of his palm against the fleshy bud above your folds, touch turning harsh. You make a choked sound from your throat, but he doesn’t let up the pressure. “I’d prefer it if you could be the only one to service me there,” he says mildly.

You pinch his forearm. “Selfish!”

“You say that, but you’re the one who likes it.” He bites the shell of your ear, warm breath stealing over you. “You always take it so well, after all.”

“Do not!”

“Again,” Caleb says. “Saying one thing, but doing another. Look, aren’t you taking my fingers perfectly fine?”

“As if it’s a fair comparison!”

You push your back against him. Caleb takes a sharp inhale, rolls his hips against you. “Be good for gege,” he chides, and then takes out his fingers to give you a light slap that lands right onto your sex. Your body jerks with the impact, and you clench around nothing. He soothes you with a soft rubbing motion, cooing apologies that only makes you more frustrated.

“Ge,” you beg. Doing your best to entice him.

“Hm?” His breathing turns rough, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he keeps rubbing you. Never enough pressure to get you where you want, just a teasing motion to keep you wanting more. “What do you need? Say it with words, pretty girl. Gege will take care of you, promise.”

“Want more than just your fingers.” You shift and turn yourself around, a flurry of fabrics that will surely be stained by tomorrow morning. You crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, and when face-to-face like this, you can finally work yourself over his lap. Sprawled over him, grinding against the hardness poking out of his pants.

“You—” Caleb’s head falls back against the tree in a dull thud, and it’s frustrating, not being able to see his eyes. The full expression of his face.

You reach up to peel off the blindfold of your eyes, then his. The black ribbon flutters as you fling it aside. You slant your mouth over his, and he just lets you take what you want, teeth clacking in a mess of a kiss. The swipe of your tongue over his has him moaning into your mouth. His eyes roll back in an involuntary pleasure reflex, lashes dusted in the crushed glitter of a dying sun.

But it’s frustrating; you don’t want just the external friction of bumping and grinding over clothes, you need him inside. You whine, pawing at his pants, and he sighs in response.

“Always doing as you wish,” Caleb croaks.

“Please.” Your voice cracks. “Feel so empty without you.”

Caleb breathes, “Okay. Okay, gege’s got you.” There’s the rustling of clothes as he takes himself out. Your hand snatches for him immediately, barely able to wrap your fingers around the entirety of his cock.

“So eager,” he laughs softly, but when you retaliate by teasing the tip with your thumb, he shuts up quickly with a stuttered thrust up into your palm.

“Hurry up,” you complain, dragging out the syllables at the end, and work your palm over the length of him. Caleb gives a quiet little sigh as he tugs at the side ties of your underwear, and the knots surrender without a fight, lace and cotton bunched up in a fist as though he doesn’t want to let it go. He gives into your demands so easily, and it makes you want him so much. Your stubborn, protective partner; your other half. You stroke him lazily as you use your other hand to part your folds, rocking your entrance back and forth over the tip of his cock. Caleb hisses like he’s been slashed when you try to take him into you—and he slips, much to your dismay, and slips again on the second, third attempt.

“Stop, it’s okay, let me,” he says, and takes a hold of himself. “Just lean yourself against me, yes, just like that.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder, hands pressed flat against his chest for leverage as Caleb aligns you by the waist over his cock. When he begins pushing you down onto him, you groan. Barely in, and you already feel full.

“Shhh,” he hushes you, his own voice strained as he feeds you his cock inch by inch, staring at where he’s slowly entering into you. “You can do it. You’ve done this so many times before, gege knows you can.”

The drag of him against your walls burns, even with how wet you are. By some miracle, you manage to take him up to the base, the both of you gasping for air when he bottoms out. He’s everywhere, stretching you out entirely as you struggle to breathe.

“See,” he says, “what did I say?”

“You’re terrible—oh!” Whatever complaint you’d been about to make is interrupted as he suddenly bucks into you.

“You okay there? Suddenly stopped talking.”

“Caleb!” You huff at the amusement in his voice, about to file another voiced complaint to the bureau of X-02’s logic circuit, but the rough way he’s working you over him—like a weightless toy, even despite the heavy weight of an android body—has all the words fleeing. It’s all you can do to hold onto him, teeth sinking into his neck as he holds your hips and slams into you, and you’re bouncing up and down over him, meeting him motion for motion. Equal and opposite reactions, energy building beneath the sternum.

“I’ll never be tired of this,” Caleb breathes. “Not ever. I want you, always. You know that, right? No matter what happens in the future, I’ll always want this. To be with you.”

“I—Of course I know, you dummy,” you say, voice catching on a sob. “You think I’m not the same?”

Caleb laughs again, and the sound destroys you in its own resonance with your protocore. You bite your tongue, trying to stifle the high-pitched wail that’s threatening to escape, and Caleb thumbs at the corner of your lips.

“No, not your tongue,” Caleb says. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

And you know him so well, you open your mouth immediately. He shoves his fingers between your teeth, so deep it poked the back of your throat, and you sink your teeth over his knuckles until you taste the oxidized metal rust of that synthetic blood. Sucking and working your tongue around the meat of his digits as he gasps, “Exactly. Just like that, good girl.”

And it’s this ritual that makes him about to come. You can feel it. That shiver to his body, the twitch of his jaw as he tries his best to hold back to prolong the moment, but you’re not having it. You buck and slam yourself down on him, clawing at his neck with stiff fingers and biting his knuckles so hard it would fracture if he were truly made of human flesh and bones.

You can’t take it. The violence kicks you off the edge before him. Everywhere, it tingles. You crest over the rush of endorphins, let it carry you away on a crashing wave. And the air sings, a crescendo as though you’ve been struck like a bell, every atom sent vibrating in the ring. And it just keeps and keeps going, because he’s thrusting his hips up and shoving himself inside so deep it feels like you’ll never be able to get him out.

Come, goddamn it, your eyes glare at him, savage, come already, I want to see, and message received, because he immediately makes a rasping sound, cock jerking sporadically inside you as it releases splashes of warm seminal fluid. Empty of gamete, of course, because what reproductive capabilities were machines supposed to have? Cell-less, without DNA.

Still. You’d like it, you think hazily, if you could stir him into yourself. If you were humans, you’d like that. A home inside your ribs, a spot for his seed to take. But neither of you are human, so there’s no point to the thought exercise.

Caleb smooths his hand over your hair—other hand still inside your mouth. Your jaw finally loosens, and his fingers slip out. Neat little pink indents over the pale flesh. You lick the saliva off, and he stares at you with those dark eyes that hide so many secrets. No light shone over could ever reveal them, but you’re happy enough for now.

You hug him and rest your head over his chest. There’s the hum of circulating fluid if you listen hard enough, the sizzling energy of the protocore that keeps him alive. When you nuzzle your cheek against the velvet of his coat, he chuckles.

“Still angry then?”

Idiot. You’ll definitely crack open his circuitry one of these days to figure out how he functions. And you’ll huff about reprogramming him the entire while, but will still put him back together just as he is. Because you like Caleb. You like him: his stubborn protectiveness, his hidden secrets, his overwhelming desire. And his ridiculously sized genitalia, even if it bruises you from the inside out.

“Not angry. Sleepy now.” You yawn and cuddle into him. He hugs you close to him, and never mind the mess—you’ll dunk him into a river tomorrow to rinse him off, then make him clean up the mess inside you with his tongue.

Yes, come tomorrow, another mission will arrive, and you will fight yourselves to the last electron that loops in your wires. But you’ll do it alongside him, you’ll both survive, bloody and torn as you both are, and even despite the injuries, Caleb will pick blooming dandelions off the side of the abandoned roads and weave them into your hair.

Because you love them. And he loves you.

So you’ll smile your brightest for him, because he loves your smile—and you love him, you do.

———

The light of the sun has long fled, and the void of space beyond the skies drowns everything in a muggy darkness. Caleb holds you close to him, curling his hand over yours. You snuggle into him, murmuring in your sleep about this and that and Caleb, ‘m the same.

How could it be the same? A-01 and X-02, how could you be the same as him? Planet to satellite. Origin to point.

He was created from you, because of you.

One day, you'll understand.

And when that day comes, he'll lay you to rest with gentle, loving hands. You'll cry miserably, as you always do, and he'll kiss you good night and say, "Shh. I'll be there when you next wake up, okay?"

It never gets easier.

Love is like that. A tribulation written in blood.

“A for Anhausen, huh?”he whispers as he pets your hair. “Maybe for others, but not for you. It’s all right though. Whether you’re opening your eyes to take your first breath or closing your eyes to breathe your last, I’ll always be there. No matter how many times it happens—”

Caleb smiles helplessly.

“—after all, I was made for you.”

[raccoonfallsharder]

✩࿐࿔ i'm damn proud a' you, kid. [new 3/27]

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | NEW: take what you need queue fanfiction masterlist | navigation

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | anthology one-shot | word count: 1,639. read ✩࿐࿔ i'm damn proud a' you on ao3

when you're questioning your path, when you're disappointed in yourself, when you're feeling lonely, try to remember: the captain is proud of you. and he hopes you're proud of yourself, too.

i got two requests under different names for this scene. it was a hard one, because everyone feels the need for this kind of reassurance, but in different ways. to the requester(s): i hope that you feel seen by this. i hope that it moves you and reminds you that you are amazing, not just in what you do, and not only in how hard you try - but also, simply, in who you are. and i hope it brings you some peace, and reassurance, and contentment. ♡♡♡

It’s early morning when Rocket finds you. You’re not always up at this hour, but you’ve got a lot to do today — and something had moved you to steal an extra hour of peace and quiet before the city starts its quiet morning hustle. So you’d made your favorite cozy-warm drink with the electric kettle on your tiny countertop, and you’d gone up to the roof — leaned out over the edge with your elbows propped against the low bone-concrete wall, and gazed down on the strings of twinkling plasma orbs, slowly fading like stars in the lavender-rose glow of the manufactured sunrise. The orloni peddler sets up their cart, and someone wanders down the street to the laundromat with a brimful basket propped on their hip. A lone, lazy Terran bull — liberated from the Arête, you assume — pulls a mouthful of grass from a crack in the walkway. But otherwise, the skull is still and tranquil, and everything seems oddly pastoral in the pearly light of artificial dawn. Even with Rocket scuffling around up here. He makes more noise than he needs to — more noise than he normally would, too: pushing open the door to the roof, and making sure to drag his boots on the gravelly surface. You appreciate the gesture, since it keeps you from startling when he finally swaggers to your side and hoists himself up on the ledge next to you. “Hey, kid.” “Hey,” you murmur back. Both of your voices are hushed, like the sleepiness of the world has stolen its way into your lungs, making everything soft and gauzy. “You heading out?” He drops into a seated position, legs dangling out over the street four stories down. Frankly, you’re surprised to see him this morning. Usually when he has to leave for a mission this early in the wake-shift, he heads straight from his apartment to the Bowie. “Yeah,” he grunts. “Just wanted to see how you were doin’ before I left.” Your mouth curves. You lift your mug to your lips and breathe in the steam, keeping your eyes carefully averted so he can’t see too much affection in them. “Checking up on me, Captain?”

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for a requester (or two) on ao3 ♡ ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | NEW: take what you need queue

need more reminders from rocket?

the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good).

feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. ♡ view the take what you need queue to see upcoming installations & the current backlog.

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based anthology, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist

eat somethin. (wc: 576)

go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737)

get outta bed & get your shit done.(wc: 925)

take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375)

leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579)

take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020)

drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209)

stop destroying your frickin clothes. (wc: 1,609)

just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271)

it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923)

get some sunshine, sunshine. (wc: 1,614)

did you take your damn meds today? (wc: 1,288)

schedule your fuckin' appointments.(wc: 1,222)

do your goddamn dishes. (wc: 994)

brush your frickin' teeth. (wc: 1,774)

nobody fuckin hates you (wc: 1,231)

stop biting your goddamn nails (wc: 2,920)

take a frickin' shower (wc: 1,359 )

take care of your fuckin injury (wc: 2,102)

cook some goddamn food. (wc: 2,707)

clean your frickin room. (wc: 2,465)

stop hittin shit. (wc: 1,862)

do your frickin homework. (wc: 2,121 )

chill the fuck out. (wc: 1,499)

i'm damn proud a' you, kid. (wc: 1,639)

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

teacup and teal line dividers by @/saradika-graphics | support banner by @/saradika-graphics | raccoon divider by @/thecutestgrotto. total wordcount: 39,062.

[laramzp]

Overgrowing Technology (2023/24)

Technology and nature have always been perceived as opposing forces - one synthetic, calculated, and ever-advancing; the other organic, unpredictable, and cyclical. Overgrowing Technology explores this duality, creating a space where nostalgia, digital decay, and organic growth converge.

Using nine iMac G3s I reconstruct a personal and collective history of the internet, memory, and digital landscapes. Arranged in a structured 3x3 grid on a blue industrial shelf, these obsolete machines become both relics and vessels, their screens displaying a fragmented video poem in four acts. The work juxtaposes decayed technology with organic life: chrome planters overflowing with greenery, artificial grass, an aquarium, and luminous star stickers evoke childhood memories and digital dreams.

This piece is, in part, an archive of my personal relationship with the internet - a journey through wonder, obsession, disillusionment, and reconciliation. The videos within the iMacs oscillate between past and present, combining found footage, historical references, and original recordings made with handheld cameras, Coolpix, Super 8 film, and iPhones. The layered visuals are complemented by self-produced music and poetry, shaping a multisensory experience.

At the heart of the installation, a mirrored iMac shatters the grid’s uniformity, its reflective fragments inviting the viewer into a space of self-recognition and digital distortion. The work does not seek to romanticize nostalgia but rather to examine its function - how past technological landscapes linger in contemporary digital culture, how the obsolete is repurposed, and how memory itself is an evolving interface.

With Overgrowing Technology, I aim to cultivate a dialogue between the organic and the artificial, questioning whether technology can ever truly become obsolete, or if it simply transforms - overgrown by nature, absorbed into memory, and rewritten into new narratives.

[aangussca]

Research readings 1: Botany in art

Reading Notes: Barbara Nemitz and Hatje Cantz's Trans Plant - Living Vegetation in Contemporary Art (2000)

Humans are not only connected to plants through their importance to our survival and to scientific research. They're incredibly important for our cultural/creative and philosophical identities.

"Have we not always looked into nature in order to discover something about ourselves? Work with living plants is both an intimate." - Barbara Nemitz (2000)

"If art is about life, then it is sensible to realise living ideas with living materials." - Gary Rieveschl (Working Statements, 1999)

"[My landscape sculptures] Lifeforms are reference points for communications about the ideas they represent - signs along the way, attempt to provoke a closer relationship with the earth." - Gary Rieveschl (Working Statements, 1999)

"nature is our primary reality. the experience of nature is a universal human value. vegetation is the basis of our existence. in art, nature becomes revolution." - Herman De Vries (Vegetation and Art: 10 Theses, 1999)

"in dealing with vegetation or plants in art, the artist needs in-depth knowledge about what he is working with." - Herman De Vries (Vegetation and Art: 10 Theses, 1999)

"the restoration of natural relationships can be an artistic act." - Herman De Vries (Vegetation and Art: 10 Theses, 1999)

"The vegetable and the animal kingdoms are merged, with the artist as explorer." - Colette Garraud (about Erik Samakh's practice, 1999)

"Gardens may well reflect social structures, but they are first and foremost works of art. They reveal a great deal about the concept of ideal beauty prevailing at a given time, about aesthetic fashions and about the relationship between mankind and nature as immediate as in garden, in the space between the house and the landscape." - Hans Von Trotha (Der Englische Garten: Eine Reise durch seine Geschichte, 1999)

Case study 1: Hans Haacke

Description of Practice (1965): "...make something which experiences, reacts to its environment, changes, is non-stable...

...make something indeterminate, which always looks different, the shape of which cannot be predicted precisely...

...make something which cannot "perform" without the assistance of its environment...

...make something which reacts to light and temperature changes, is subject to air currents and whose function depends on the forces of gravity...

...make something which the "viewer" handles, with which he plays and thus animates...

...make something which lives in time and makes the "viewer" experiences time...

...articulate something natural..."

In order from left to right: Grass Grows (1969, installation - soil and grass), Gerichtetes Wachstum (Directed Growth) (1972, installation - soil and bean plants)

Case study 2: Samm Kunce

Description of Practice (1999): "I grew up in the 60s and 70s, ten minutes away from Disneyland. Most rights of passage took place there. Our tract house with garden and lawn existed where it shouldn't have - an artificial oasis in what is naturally a desert alongside dozens of others exactly like it. Then, when I was 19, I went alone to Japan. And I saw the gardens of Kyoto.

One might say I have an exaggerated sensitivity to the artificial partly because I was raised to think it was natural.

The human drive/impulse to control nature points to our acute discomfort in our own skins - viewing ourselves as a part of nature. We have cultured ourselves. So much so that it is, in fact, barely apparent, as we have become accustomed to our various (and increasingly less various) cultures that they have come to seem "natural". That tension between human consciousness and nature, how we dealt with it or not, both externally and internally, is the juncture at which I have repeated found myself critically and creatively.

I hope that as I continue I will be able to make works which clearly present questions for the viewer. I have no desire to propose answers. I hope to make environments to be noticed, opportunities for isolated experience. I am interested in edges and contrast and what happens when they meet - when the controlled goes wild and the fungus dries up. How grass grows and how we cut it back."

Water Culture (1994, installation - 5 units composed of lettuce growing in wood/PVC containers with water and electric lights)

Law of Desire (1995, installation - grass growing on apparatuses made up of felt, PVC, water pumps and LED Gro-lights)

Case study 3: Henrik Håkansson

Description of Practice (1999): "In a general sense, the work is, by personal interest, open research on biological behaviours in a social and cultural context. As a whole, it involves investigation and observation of living matter, its limits and extensions. The concept and strategy are to reflect and extend different aspects of environmental and biodiverse structures - to develop and construct possibilities for interspecies interaction and communication. In the end, living matter itself is unpredictable, and this I find quite intriguing.

After Forever (ever all) is based on the process of building environments and on the extensions of plant physiology. The work is developed further to be viewed and experienced as a painting of a forest, a reflective state of mind, and romantic view of a vanishing point in our coexistence."

After Forever (ever all) (1998, installation - plants and mixed media)

[greenmosswall]

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[korricrypto]

HOW I EARNED over $100 from the GRASS crypto

Grass is a project related to artificial intelligence that runs on the Solana blockchain.

To get Grass tokens, you just need to install free extension in your browser, which automatically without your participation works with the unused bandwidth of your Internet, without slowing down the speed of the connection.

Show more: https://medium.com/@korricrypto/airdrop-grass-2024-how-i-earned-over-100-from-the-grass-crypto-you-can-do-it-too-f7c3156faa08

[artificialturfsupplycanberra]

  Low-Maintenance Lawns with artificialturfsupplycanberra

Looking for premium synthetic grass in Canberra? At artificialturfsupplycanberra, we provide top-quality synthetic turf that’s perfect for residential, commercial, and recreational spaces. Whether you're upgrading your backyard, enhancing a school playground, or designing a green rooftop, our synthetic grass delivers the look and feel of real grass—without the constant upkeep.

Our artificial turf is UV-stabilised, durable, and made to withstand Canberra’s changing weather conditions. You’ll enjoy a lush, green lawn all year round—no mowing, watering, or fertilising required. It’s also eco-friendly, helping you conserve water and reduce maintenance costs, making it an ideal long-term solution for modern outdoor living.

Perfect for pet areas, balconies, childcare centres, sports fields, and more, our synthetic grass is soft, safe, and allergy-free. It provides a clean, mud-free surface for kids and pets to play on, and it's designed to drain quickly after rain.

At artificialturfsupplycanberra, we handle everything from expert advice to professional installation. Our experienced team ensures your turf is installed with precision and care, delivering a flawless, long-lasting finish. We customise each project to suit your space, style, and budget, offering reliable service and satisfaction every step of the way.

No matter the size of your project, we’re here to help you create a beautiful, low-maintenance outdoor area that you’ll love for years. We’ve worked with homeowners, businesses, schools, and councils across Canberra—earning a reputation for quality products and outstanding service.

Contact artificialturfsupplycanberra today for a free quote and consultation. Discover how our synthetic grass solutions can transform your outdoor space into a lush, green oasis—365 days a year. Let us bring your dream lawn to life, without the hassle.

[lonestarsyntheticturf]

Elevate Your Landscape with Stunning Artificial Turf Landscaping

Discover the endless possibilities of artificial turf landscaping! Transform your outdoor space into a lush, green oasis that stays beautiful year-round. Whether you're looking for a maintenance-free lawn, a vibrant play area for kids, or an eco-friendly solution, artificial turf landscaping offers it all. Say goodbye to mowing, watering, and harsh weather damage. With our expert guidance, you can create a low-maintenance, evergreen paradise that complements your home's aesthetic. Explore innovative design ideas and find the perfect balance between aesthetics and functionality. Elevate your property's curb appeal and enjoy a vibrant, green space that lasts for years. Discover the world of artificial turf landscaping today!

[artificialturfexpress]

Want a green oasis on your concrete patio? Learn how to install artificial grass on concrete with our detailed DIY guide for San Jose, CA residents!

[turfosms]

Top-Quality Artificial Turf for Tennis Courts in India

 The quality of the surface is very important for keeping a tennis court in great shape.  The surface you choose affects not only how well players do, but also how much it costs to maintain, and fix over time. This is true whether you're in charge of a sports facility, a school campus or a private club. Artificial tennis turf has become popular in India because it lasts a long time, looks good, and doesn't need much maintenance.  Because of changes in the country's sports infrastructure, more tennis fans and pros are now choosing synthetic turf over natural grass or clay courts because it is smarter and lasts longer.

 Why Synthetic Turf Is Ideal for Tennis Courts

India's weather changes a lot, from very hot days to heavy monsoons. This makes it hard to keep up natural grass courts, all year.  Clay courts are traditional, but they need to be maintained all the time and might not be good for areas with a lot of foot traffic.  At this point, artificial surfaces become a useful option.  The construction of synthetic turf makes it resistant to wear, and tear. It also lets water drain better, keeps the ball's bounce consistent, and can be used all year.  It also makes the surface more cushioned, which lowers the risk of injuries and makes playing more comfortable for athletes of all levels.

 Modern tennis turf systems are also made to meet standards around the world.  The fibers used are UV-stabilized, which means they will keep their color and quality even in direct sunlight.  Also, these surfaces are good for the environment because they don't need to be watered or treated with chemicals.  Synthetic surfaces are being used by everything from amateur clubs to professional academies, because they are better for performance and cost in the long run.

 Customization and Installation Options in India

 With artificial turf, you can make changes based on your court size, the type of players you have, and the weather in your area.  For better performance, courts can be made with different pile heights, infill materials and shock-absorbing layers based on the type of play (recreational, training, or competitive).  Whether you need a single court installed or a sports complex with multiple courts, experienced turf suppliers in India can help you find a solution that fits your needs and your budget.

 Also, installation is often faster than with other surface options. This means that your facility will be back up and running faster.  Most providers offer full services, such as preparing the ground, installing drainage systems, laying turf, and providing support after the sale.  If you buy from a reputable company with years of experience in the field, your court will meet safety standards and last for a long time.

 If you are looking for high-quality options for your next project, you can find premium-grade tennis turf at https://osmsturf.com/tennis-turf.php. They have a variety of durable, professionally engineered surfaces for different needs.

 Long-Term Benefits and Value

 It may seem like artificial court surfaces cost more up front than natural ones, but they definitely pay for themselves in the long run.  The cost of maintaining synthetic turf is much lower because it doesn't need to be watered, mowed or fixed during the seasons.  Most surfaces come with warranties that last for a number of years. This means that they will work well and look good for a long time.  Also, courts with artificial surfaces tend to get more use because they look more professional and are always good for playing on.

 Another big benefit is that you can play for longer.  Natural courts need to be taken out of action when it rains or gets too worn down, but synthetic courts dry out quickly and can be used within hours.  Because of this, they are perfect for clubs and schools, that want to get the most use out of their facilities all year long.  Whether you're building a new court or fixing up an old one, synthetic turf is a solution that will work in the future.

 Visit OSMS Turf to learn more about professional installation, and high-quality turf systems made for Indian conditions.  It is possible to find solutions that meet global standards without sacrificing the performance needs of the local area.

 Make the Smart Switch Today

 When sports are played in a fast-paced and competitive environment, switching to artificial tennis turf can make all the difference.  It not only makes the game better, but it also lowers your operating costs, and makes your facility look better.  More institutions, academies, and sports developers are using this technology because more people want surfaces that are reliable and don't need much upkeep.  It's clear that going synthetic is better whether you're building a new court, or fixing up an old one.

 To get the best artificial grass for your tennis court, go to OSMS Turf and look at the options that are made for the Indian market.  If you choose the right partner and product, your facility can reach performance and durability levels that are among the best in the world.

[zandscarpet]

What to Know About Outdoor Flooring in Dubai: A Guide to Style and Strength

Dubai is a city where outdoor living is just as important as indoor comfort. From private villas and garden patios to hotel terraces and public walkways, people in Dubai love spending time outside, especially during the cooler months. A well-designed outdoor area is not complete without the right flooring. That’s why outdoor flooring Dubai has become a growing trend in both residential and commercial projects.

The flooring used in outdoor spaces must be strong, weather-resistant, and safe. It also needs to look stylish and blend well with the overall design. With Dubai’s hot summers, sandstorms, and occasional rain, outdoor flooring needs to be able to handle tough conditions while still looking beautiful all year round.

There are many materials to choose from for outdoor flooring. Each type has its own features, advantages, and uses. Understanding your options can help you choose the best surface for your space.

Popular Types of Outdoor Flooring in Dubai

Dubai offers a wide selection of outdoor flooring materials. Here are some of the most common choices:

Wooden Decking: Natural wood gives a warm and classic look. It works well in garden areas and around pools. However, it needs regular maintenance to protect it from moisture and heat.

WPC (Wood Plastic Composite) Decking: A mix of wood fibers and plastic, WPC is a popular choice in Dubai due to its durability and low maintenance. It looks like real wood but lasts much longer.

Tiles and Pavers: Available in stone, ceramic, or concrete, tiles and pavers are great for walkways, driveways, and patios. They come in different colors and patterns, offering great design flexibility.

Artificial Grass with Flooring Borders: A great option for family gardens and children’s play areas. It creates a soft, green space that requires very little water or maintenance.

Stone Flooring: Natural stone, like granite or slate, gives a premium feel and handles heat well. It’s often used in luxury homes and hotels.

Where to Use Outdoor Flooring

Outdoor flooring Dubai is used in many different places across the city:

Garden patios and backyards

Swimming pool decks

Rooftop terraces and balconies

Restaurant and café seating areas

Walkways in parks and residential compounds

Entryways and driveways in villas

Each area has its own needs, so choosing the right material is key to ensuring long-term performance and safety.

Benefits of Quality Outdoor Flooring

Investing in the right outdoor flooring offers many benefits:

Weather Resistance: Quality flooring materials can withstand Dubai’s extreme heat, sun exposure, and sand without cracking or fading.

Safety: Non-slip surfaces are important, especially around pools and wet areas.

Durability: The right materials will last for years without needing frequent repairs or replacement.

Easy Maintenance: Many outdoor flooring options need only simple cleaning, saving you time and money.

Aesthetic Appeal: A well-chosen floor improves the beauty of your outdoor space and adds value to your property.

Choosing the Right Outdoor Flooring

When selecting outdoor flooring in Dubai, you should consider the following:

Climate Suitability: Make sure the material is heat and UV-resistant.

Function: Think about how the space will be used—relaxation, dining, walking, or play.

Style: Choose a color and texture that matches the design of your home or business.

Budget: There are high-end and budget-friendly options available, so choose what fits your needs.

It’s also helpful to work with professionals who can guide you through the process, from choosing the right material to installation and maintenance.

Also Read:- Redefining Spaces with Luxury Carpets and Outdoor Flooring in Dubai

Conclusion

With the right planning and materials, your outdoor space can be both functional and beautiful. Whether it’s a backyard patio, a hotel poolside, or a rooftop lounge, outdoor flooring plays a key role in the overall look and comfort of any exterior area. It combines style, safety, and strength to create spaces that you’ll enjoy for years to come.

For expert advice and top-quality outdoor flooring solutions, trust Zia And Sagor Carpets Trading LLC. Their experience, wide product range, and professional service make them a reliable choice for outdoor flooring projects across Dubai.

[greenfieldexpert1]

Artificial Grass Installation Advantages: Changing Your Outdoor Area

Artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space is an investment many homeowners now consider to improve their properties' beauty and functionality. From reduced maintenance to year-round visual appeal, the advantages are both practical and aesthetic.

Artificial Grass Installation Benefits: Transforming Your Outdoor Space with Low Maintenance and Durability

One of the most valued artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space is its low maintenance nature. Traditional lawns require frequent watering, mowing, edging, fertilizing, and weed removal. In contrast, artificial grass eliminates these chores entirely, freeing up time for other activities. You no longer need to worry about brown patches, uneven growth, or seasonal damage, making your outdoor area consistently attractive without the hassle.

Durability is another critical factor in artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space. Synthetic turf is designed to withstand heavy foot traffic, children playing, and pets running without becoming damaged or worn out. High-quality artificial grass retains its color and structure for many years, even under direct sunlight, as it is UV-resistant. This durability makes it ideal for backyards, play areas, putting greens, and poolside landscapes where natural grass may struggle to thrive.

Artificial Grass Installation Benefits: Transforming Your Outdoor Space for Improved Aesthetics and Environmental Savings

Artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space are also seen in its ability to provide an instant aesthetic upgrade. It offers a lush, green appearance throughout the year, regardless of weather conditions. The realistic texture and vibrant color options available today make it difficult to distinguish from natural grass. Homeowners appreciate the neat, manicured look that artificial grass brings to gardens, patios, and commercial landscapes.

Additionally, artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space include significant environmental savings. Since artificial turf requires no watering, homeowners reduce their water consumption dramatically, supporting water conservation efforts in regions prone to droughts. The absence of fertilizers, pesticides, and herbicides further benefits the environment by minimizing chemical runoff into local soil and water systems. For households looking to maintain eco-friendly practices while enjoying a pristine lawn, artificial grass provides a reliable solution.

Beyond these practical advantages, artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space can enhance your property value and outdoor lifestyle. Many buyers view synthetic grass as a premium upgrade due to its visual appeal and maintenance savings. It creates a usable space for outdoor gatherings, sports, relaxation, and entertaining guests without concerns about mud or damaged grass areas.

Overall, artificial grass installation benefits: transforming your outdoor space offer homeowners a combination of beauty, durability, and environmental responsibility. With minimal upkeep and consistent results, it is a smart long-term investment that redefines how outdoor spaces are enjoyed and maintained.

[timekeepers-memoir]

Telebun's escape to the outside world #11

Chapter name: redemption arc

Crossposted on my ao3

The soothing smell of incense and surely expensive essential oil was what greeted his poor muzzle. Thing is, he was very, very allergic to such a thing. He wondered why it existed. He knew it smelt good and stuff, but his nose hurts. A lot. He felt it itch up, and sadly his paw couldn’t reach far enough to scratch it. He could literally count until he was going to sneeze repeatedly. Suddenly his eyes started hurting, tears welling up quickly.

Neo was quite busy today, and sent him along with Biscuit to Pesi’s house for a little sleepover. Not a bad idea, the rabbit thought. Pesi, although pretty cowardly and slightly annoying, was an OK caretaker. Not as good as Nausi or Poly, but better than sleeping alone or staying up late to wait for his owner to go to sleep. He’d never admit it but he couldn’t sleep without a human next to him, or Biscuit. And Biscuit had the same problem. So even if there were two pets in one room they’d still be unable to sleep fully. At most, he’d fall into a light nap, and at worst, they’d stay up ‘till 3 am with no knowledge of time passing except for the slow ticking of the clock.

Pesi had left two or three pillows for him to sleep on. They were squishy, soft, just like how he likes it. Not too fluffy, it makes the pillow feel like rabbit fluff, and he does not want to fall asleep on the equivalent of his kind’s hair. Not too hard, that makes it feel like a rock, and no species wants to sleep on a rock unfortunately. Just squishy, bouncy, and cool. Biscuit settled next to him, the ball of fur and joy waving her tail happily. She looked relaxed. It made him feel the slightest bit warm.

“Alright, sleep tight in there, Telebun and Biscuit…” Pesi remarked, gently closing the door with a creak.

Oh, he totally would.

The rabbit snuggled in the middle of the pillows, letting his body drift to sleep. Sure enough, his eyes started feeling like they were glued together, a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, before a comfortable tiredness washed over him, and off he was to Dreamland.

At first, he didn’t make out anything. He just slept.

Then, a dream.

It wasn’t clear, his dreams never were, but he could make out the shape of his owner and his friends. The kind of blurry where you can see the general shape, but when you try to look closer, it looks like a mess. He dreamed of a field of carrots, with his friends having a picnic in the fresh summer air, the grass under his paws and green fields that covered his sight. So beautiful, really. It smelt of freedom, of love, of everything good and sweet. Neo sat on a picnic mat with Poly, Pesi and Nausi, and he could make out Hermione, too. He’d thought his brain would render Hermione as evil and wouldn’t include her within his dreams, but apparently he was much nicer than he thought. Well, doesn’t matter now. Food!

He nibbled at the grass, expecting to feel a fresh, natural taste, with a comforting texture on his tongue, but what he tasted was different. It was bitter, almost like plastic. No, it was plastic. Undeniably plastic. So bitter and dark and toxic and <em>artificial</em>

Suddenly, the sky went dark once those thoughts were uttered in his mind. Everything looked fake. Now he could look closer and see it was a room, painted with blue skies in all directions. He was sitting on a fake hill, with artificial grass. The fresh summer breeze was just essential oil, that was now hurting his nose. The wind were just fans installed on four walls.

A scientist quietly but rapidly moved toward Neo. They looked familiar with that white coat and leather belt belt. He knew who that was. The smell of those that were evil were always recognizable. A poignant, horrid smell, with a sour and rotten tint. The smell of an equally rotten soul.

Telebun screeched, tried to alert Neo. But his owner only looked at him with a questioning eye, at least that was what he thought his owner was doing. Brilliant, just brilliant. Of course he wouldn’t trust his bunny’s warnings. He was just a bunny. A useless, dumb, pitiful little bunny. Just like what they said. He was nothing but a pet, a rabbit, useless, useless, useless. He had no use, he shouldn’t have been born, he could’ve been anything else AND YET-

His eyes widened as the scientist stabbed his owner. Neo let out an inaudible screech, before falling to the ground with a thud. The knife was pulled out swiftly, just like nothing ever happened. Just like that stupid, stupid scientist didn’t just kill the one who saved his life. Crimson blood oozed onto fake grass, tainting it red. The contrast was painful. The smell of it shoved itself up his nose. The puddle continued spreading, like red snakes slithering through the hill. Everyone was horrified, including him.

It couldn’t end this soon, it couldn’t, it couldn’t! No, no, no, nonononononono…. not his owner, please, not his owner. Please spare Neo just another moment please, he hadn’t told the man how much he appreciated him and loved him yet, no no no…. no…

He felt his soul tearing apart. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry. Get him out of here. This was just a dream, this was just a dream- But deep inside, he was breaking. What if it became true? What if it wasn’t as much a dream as he thought it was? Spare his owner please….please! Please! PLEASE-

His breathing didn’t slow down when he woke up. Eyes opening instantly, looking around the room with sudden attention. Tear-lines were still visible on his face, his eyes felt warm and his cheeks felt wet. He curled into himself, sobbing.

His crying was probably too loud, because then, the door creaked open. Familiar eyes stared at him from the other side, before Pesi rushed in, petting Tele, before completely abandoning all dignity and fear and picking the rabbit up to cradle in his arms.

“Gods, are you alright?” the man with the dark complexion questioned, a worried tone in his voice, petting Tele repeatedly, “Was it a nightmare? Something scary? Please don’t cry, Neo will kill me…”

The bunny found the man’s embrace comfortable. Oh-so-warm. In that moment, he felt some kind of…Nostalgia? Like he had felt this feeling so many times in so many different lives. Deja vu, he figured it was called. He sniffed again, eyes closing shut, hoping to not dream of another nightmare.

Deep inside, he trusted Pesi more. Not that he’ll ever tell the man ── not that he could, anyway ── but somewhere inside he registered this event as Pesi’s ‘redemption arc,’ so to speak.