#understep

[grassismaroon]

Quick doodle :]

The colours might be a tiny bit off-

Rook belongs to @hold-please-hyperfixating

[hold-please-hyperfixating]

Didnt I mention that rook was observant?

ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE-

Slash belongs to @xnzlian

Rook belongs to me

(I'm getting more confident drawing rook with newer aus ^^ I wanted to draw sum silly

[fjordfolk]

bad rear on the akita inu

[girlgenius1111]

to be worthy.

and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.

You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking. 

Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear. 

This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that. 

It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi. 

Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.

Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be. 

“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important. 

“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles. 

“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?” 

“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”

The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about. 

“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.” 

“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.” 

“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”

“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that  at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift. 

------

Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that. 

You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any. 

Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up. 

“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder. 

“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman. 

“Something wrong?” She asked. 

“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved. 

“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.” 

Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.” 

“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile. 

“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.” 

With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend. 

“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically. 

She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand. 

“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”

Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction. 

María,

It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.

Love, Solstråle.

By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head. 

“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.” 

That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was. 

“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away. 

Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.” 

“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.” 

Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent. 

“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read. 

It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading. 

Ingrid,

Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it. 

Love, Solstråle. 

And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.

And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable. 

------

You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all. 

It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain. 

Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices. 

Should you have called your mom? 

No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer. 

Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred. 

You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that. 

The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards. 

Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder. 

-------

Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head. 

Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal. 

And, fuck, she should have called her mom. 

She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister. 

And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice. 

“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing. 

“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”

“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.” 

“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves. 

“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.

Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow. 

“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly. 

You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister. 

Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.

You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested. 

Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.

Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought. 

You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate. 

------

:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.

however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.

<3

[why-so-sad-person]

Time-Travel SatoSugu Fanfic!

December 31, 2005

∞

The days went by in a blur; spending time with his friends like he did when he was freshly sixteen, again, was quite disorienting. The boy, (or man?) isn’t sure he will completely get used to it.

Those things being seeing Suguru again, so happy and carefree. It reminded him just how thoughtful and kind he was before his defection. That he was too a human; a kid messed up from a world that was in no way built for someone with his empathy and sensitivity.

And, the fact Satoru got to genuinely spend quality time with him again? Not just with him, but with the friends he distanced himself from nearly a decade ago?

They went to shops, had snowball fights, built snowmen, had sleepovers, ate junk—acted like the kids they were. Or, physically at least.

And the thing is, Satoru loved every second of it.

Getting to relive his youth; the three best years of his life. 

A dream come true.

…But not all dreams are free. They always have some kind of cost; some kind of price to pay.

For celebrities, it was their privacy. For artists, their time. Sorcerers, the possibility of their life.

The price in this one?

The overwhelming guilt, pressure, and inability to speak of the past; of his trauma.

The fact that he knows what will happen in the future if fails. If he slips up, even just a bit—Suguru is gone. He needs to tread carefully; not overstep or understep. Keep in pace with the younger teen.

Sure, it will cost him a few breakdowns, lies, panic attacks, scars, and sleepless nights. To have his trauma simply get bottled up and shoved to the back of his mind to deal with later. To ignore his feelings for Suguru, the man (boy?) he has loved since his first year of highschool, and far beyond he died in his arms by his own hand.

Yet, he finds himself not minding much at all.

Satoru is willing to go through death a million times over to save Suguru.

Hell, he’s willing to go through torture and rape again and again to keep what he once lost.

Now that he found him again, there is no way in hell he lets him escape his grasp.

I am not fucking this up again.

-

Satoru sat outside as the snow began to fall with a scarf wrapped tightly around his face. Suguru would sit at his side. They sat there bundled up in layers upon layers of winter clothing, under a dim streetlight on the side of the road.

Strangely, it was quiet- especially for a time like new years eve.

“What are we doing here?” Satoru chuckled quietly, head beginning to lean on Suguru’s shoulder. “We should be out with Shoko, Uthame, and Mei Mei, getting drunk off our minds.” He murmured, causing a breathy laugh to leave Suguru’s lips. The snowflakes stuck to his hair, which was tied up neatly in a bun.

“You don’t even drink, Satoru.” He whispered back, leaning his head on Satoru’s.

“You don’t know that, Sugu~” Satoru cooed, eyes up to the sky as the snow fell.

“Oh shush, last time you tried alcohol, you were gone by the second shot.” Suguru smiled fondly at the memory. “And I doubt you have tried any since then.”

Satoru huffed. “You underestimate me.”

Suguru sighed, eyes fluttering shut.

“I could get used to this.” The ravenette muttered, twisting his head ever so slightly, to where his nose was now nestled into Satoru’s hair. He inhaled deeply, Satoru giggling quietly at the feeling.

They stayed like that for a moment, finding joy in eachother’s warmth and presence.

The first firework went off, and Satoru reached into his pocket to grab his phone.

“Huh, would you look at that?” He smiled, gently pulling away from Suguru to show him his phone. “Twelve a.m., Suguru.” Blue eyes met soft purple. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Sats.” Suguru whispered back—Satoru didn’t miss the way his gaze traveled down to his lips for just a moment.

I could kiss him right now. He thought, uncovered eyes shamefully studying those red, slightly chapped lips that were barely covered by his winter coat. I could just tell him now. Tell him everything. My love, the truth about where I’m from, about the future—

Instead, he would smile, taking the younger’s hand.

He scooched impossibly closer to the other, watching the fireworks on the rundown wooden bench till the sunrise.

"A World in Need of Fixing," Chapter 13 on Ao3

[qwellterqustoinmark]

Elias Bouchard writes fanfictoin. You listing? Good okay

Johana Magnus is his pen name, specifically Johana_Magnus his longest and most loved pice is the "The Magnus Archives" its about his fucking coworkers

Elias is a good little worker at the insatuite, some high end office job though he had always wanted to be more of a performer or writer it get the bills paid so he keeps his lips shut

All his characters in the story are thin veils of how he vewies his coworkers. Gurtutred? You mea the woman who carried a pistol on her till her heart gave out? The woman Elais watched burn old paper work in the lobby, who burned that paper with her? Yes. He dose know her, she is then entier based idea for the Deselsaoin. Don't tell her or her Wife, Agnes, that however.

Gerry is one of Gurtutreds runner boys. Same with Micheal aswell. Infact the lot of them can be consider trouble makers. Gerrys mother is a dpcter, and one not afraid to jab her Needles into her arm. Micheals mother isn't all there and Elais is pretty sure he's somewhere on the spectrum. However both of them are alright and no one's really dead.

The 'eye' is really just a faceless boss none of them know too well. Elaos knows since he's the boss he's supposed to be the one to stop most bullshit, and he dose try at times, but bussineses is so grudgingly slow he's sure it's a front. So, he starts carrying a pistol too- and if his cane is j7st a tad to much like metal, no one qustoins it.

He has new people under him like Gurtutred had, but he's not quite sure how to intratc with them. Ecsailly given the fact they seem to know what this place is a front for. Seriously, they all got off a van titlted Breakon and Hope, thoses two men only game when Gurtrued got too trigger happy.

So yes. Hecknows they know something he dosnt. He knows that despite all he can try to do to keep there heads out of water the 'eye' wants he can't. So he writes. Wrotes his anxiety on tp Jon, watching the man's twitching hands and hestetoin to say his own name.

Writes the Lonely fear that they'll all be gone onto Martin. With his strong soilders and weeping cough. His illness always hangs at the frays of his skin.

Writes his pompous hope onto Tim, bright and loud and angery. Pushing for something else knowing it's useless all in the end.

And writes his crital-thinking mind into Sasha. The knowing ease of bravery.

They start to trust him after awhile and he contuines tp write. Jon is horrified by spiders, Martin always slightly understeps his tea, Tim misses his brother, and Shasah can't look at a mirror and see herself.

Elais sees himself in them. Slightly, and in small doses, but he dose.

The Avatars however are trying tp figuer out why the new Archive seems to have taken in many a Archavist. And how the words on a computer screen, tie so tightly woth reailty.

[m1lkt00th]

trying not to overstep you end up understepping. you dont step at all

[practically-an-x-man]

Roses and Tulips (Copia x Silas)

For @can-of-pringles, Happy Valentine's Day bestie!

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Silas Petersson (Pringles' OC) Word Count: 1.2k Content Warnings: none! cute little fluff-bomb

____

It took all his courage just to knock on that door.

It's not the door that's intimidating, Copia reminded himself, You've knocked on worse doors. You had to knock on Sister's door before you were made Cardinal, and that was twice as scary. Three times, even. This is a piece of cake compared to that.

That helped a little. Not much.

Copia shifted his grip, feeling the waxy stems of the flowers squeak under his gloves. He wasn't sure Silas liked flowers. Especially roses- was that too presumptive? Maybe he should have stuck with chocolates. Or... were chocolates more romantic than flowers? Did he want them to be more romantic? He didn't want to overstep, but he didn't want to understep... if that was a thing.

He was overthinking this. He would open that door, give Silas the flowers, ask him to dinner... and that would be that. Easy-peasy.

In theory.

In reality, he couldn't make himself move.

You have stood before a hundred thousand people. Many times. Your band is made up of underworldly ghouls, and they live down the hall from you. This should not be as intimidating as it is.

But somehow, the thought of being disemboweled in his sleep because he'd stolen Pigeon's Sour Patch Kids was less frightening than the idea of being rejected by Silas.

Just do it, he told himself, It'll only get worse the longer you stand here and think about it. Just... knock on the door. Just lift your hand and knock. Just-

"Copia?"

He spun, a little too fast, and almost tripped over his own feet when he saw Silas standing there. He must have come straight from his shift - Copia had been so wrought with anxiety, he forgot Silas worked on Wednesdays. He had a broom in one hand... and a handful of Queen of Night tulips in the other. Silas shifted on his feet.

"I was, uh, trying to find you," he said, dark eyes flicking up and down Copia's figure before settling on the roses in his hand. Silas chewed his lip, clearly swallowing his own anxiety, and held out the tulips. "Jinx?"

"Doyouwanttogotodinner?" The words tumbled out too fast, just a blur of syllables, and he stuck out the roses almost mechanically in Silas' direction.

That went... better than expected.

Silas blinked and took the roses, though his brow furrowed as he tried to process the words. Copia bit his lip, forcing his lungs to take in a full breath of air.

Silas still held the handful of tulips out in front of them. He'd been holding them for a long time. Copia internally winced, wishing he'd taken the flowers a little sooner, but reached for the tulips. He found himself fiddling with the leaves as he tried to work through his thoughts.

"Do you want... to go to dinner?" he tried again, this time managing something almost coherent, "With me. Tonight."

There. He'd done it. He'd said it. He'd be crushed if Silas turned him down, but... at least he'd worked up the courage to ask in the first place. The hard part was over.

Well, except for all the other hard parts. Like hoping his anxiety didn't melt him into a puddle of goo while he waited for Silas to respond. Not only would that be utterly humiliating, he imagined Sister would make Silas clean it up. Some Valentine's Day for him, Copia thought.

"I'd love to," Silas said, smiling at him. Copia wondered if he'd melt anyway - not from his anxiety, but from how warm and fluttery that smile made him feel. He beamed, resisting the urge to bounce on his toes in excitement. Silas lifted a hand towards his door. "Just- um, let me get changed first? And put these in a vase... and then I'll meet you in the courtyard?"

"I'd like that." Copia managed, "I'll see you soon."

Silas' smile widened, just for a moment, and then he brushed past Copia and slipped into his apartment. Copia was frozen for another moment, flooded with too much surprise and excitement to even think. Then he kicked his mind back into gear and hustled back down to his own room.

His rats greeted him from their enclosure in the back of the room when he entered, and Copia smiled at them.

"He said yes!" he told them, "We're going to dinner!"

Clara chirruped at him, her tiny paws hooked onto the rungs of her enclosure as she stretched up to look at him. She seemed happy for him, Copia thought. He held out the tulips to them, just a few inches away from their enclosure. Rats had poor eyesight.

"And look- he brought me flowers!"

Bella wiggled her nose at him, dark eyes bright and shiny. Her tail flicked back and forth.

You brought him flowers, she seemed to say.

"You're right, I did." Copia agreed, "But I didn't expect him to bring me flowers too. Look at them, they're so pretty."

You should put them in your nice vase, Alessa seemed to suggest, wandering across her enclosure and tilting her nose at the kitchen, The one that looks like stained glass.

Then she took a drink from the water bottle in the corner of the enclosure. Maybe he'd read that wrong. But the flowers would look good in that vase, he thought.

"What should I wear?" he asked as he ran a little water into the vase, "Do you think this is good, or should I change?"

You look great! Clara told him with a squeak. He knew, logically, she was just mimicking him - he talked to her, she "talked" back. But it was cute to think that she was actually trying to communicate with him.

No, no, your other vest would look better with those pants, Alessa argued. He'd always imagined she was the fashionista of the bunch. Her fur was the shiniest, and she spent the most time grooming herself... it made sense. Alessa was the fashionable one, Clara was the down-to-earth sweetheart, and Bella was the lovable disaster who once got her head stuck in a toilet-paper tube.

"Ladies, please, you're confusing me," Copia said, setting the vase of flowers down on the table. Talking with his rats helped him calm down. He didn't feel quite so nervous about his date with Silas. Still a little nervous, of course, but... he wasn't tying himself in knots. That was good. "Should I change or not?"

He'll like you no matter what you wear, Bella promised, giving him an encouraging look with her big dark eyes. They almost reminded him of Silas' eyes, big and brown and sweet. Copia smiled.

"Thank you, Bella," he said. He reached into one of the cabinets and pulled out a box of Cheerios. All three rats chirped in excitement, dancing around on their paws. Copia sprinkled a few Cheerios into their enclosure, watching them grab the cereals with their clever little paws and nibble away.

"Happy Valentine's Day, ladies," he told them. He watched them for another moment or two, wondering if he'd have to break up any arguments - Alessa had a habit of hoarding treats away from the others - but they seemed to be in a good mood tonight. Copia finally drew himself away, giving his waistcoat a little tug as he checked his appearance in the mirror. He wanted to look his best.

After all, it was Valentine's Day. And he had a date.

[tbiris]

A Spring in your step

For what may be understep

[cyberthingpuppy]

Houses Eldridge Ave Memphis Tennessee to Ricky motel 650 Lester St, Memphis, TN 38112 near summer ave Memphis Tennessee understeps must return to Candace Marie Hughes and earth and paid. On. Paid. Mail KIY KEY card dh to Candace Marie Hughes. On. Paid. Remove kover. Paid. Remove cover. Paid. VVoiced paid on. On. Paid. Parked. Paid.

[eviecreates101]

D I S T A N C E

By: a person who got bored one day

For: those who want to see an alphabetized poem, yes that was the prompt

————————————————————————

Almost there,

But not wanting to be.

Creeks flowing along the path,

Driving down the road.

Empty nests sit high,

Frolicking deer jumble around.

Grass grew sparsely,

High, bare branches loom.

Instead of hiding away,

Jumping frogs went by.

Keeping the cold at bay,

Looming high is the Sun.

Minute pebbles shuffle understep,

Never quite clear of bumbling feet.

Open skies hang overhead,

Pretty birds absent for the season.

Quietly, the branches sway,

Rivers flowing despite the temperature.

Softly crumple the leaves underfoot,

Tumbling away with the sweeping blow.

Usual chatter falls on deaf ears,

Visual cues go unnoticed by blind eyes.

Water drops gather,

Xyris stems swaying gently.

Yet nonetheless we have

Zero chance of escape.

[hold-please-hyperfixating]

i made this in a five hour car drive, safe to say, I got lazy and didn't even finish it :(

It's the thought that counts though? Right?

Anywhooo

Fragment glitched into (and belongs to quackysmack)

Fell

Swap

And I had to put my own sand in there as well ☝️🤓

Which is rook.

Anywho... I can't wait to make more art and animations!

Check out this dudes blog-

@fragmentedtale-official-blog

[bladelickster-offical]

like, i will trip over so often.

i will make a step, and i will only step on the next stair with my toes, and i will sometimes understep and slip and fall onto the previous steps

at other times i will be on the floor but still think there is another step to the case, and the floor will be either closer or further than i expect, fucking up my balance!

I'm so bad at climbing a staircase though.

[understepped]

The stallion behind the counter seems to be lost in thought. Maybe a question is in order?

[gt-ridel]

The new Discord server is up!

Hey everyone!  Please join me at the Understep Lounge for live hangouts, book readings, art nights, gaming, movies and more! There’s not much there yet, but I’m planning to ease things in with a Little Nightmares II stream tomorrow (Wednesday 5th) evening at 7:00 pm  AST.  So if you’ve got some time, grab a nice warm drink and join me for some spooky G/t fun!  Hope to see you there!~ ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

[jasperlion]

In the pits of his stomach is what he feels is a selfish kind of loneliness.

Askr is a fine place, regardless of its conflict. The nearby towns to the defensive Keep bustle with life and energy, the flowers around the castle and within its gardens are all beautiful, many familiar breeds, and many more completely new ones. There’s many people to meet, folks from the country beyond the sea and even folks from a different time or world... from different walks and different thoughts.

It was the dream come true for his child self, to see so much of the world, of many of them — to walk through doors and find himself in different lands and worlds. Yet every time it sinks in deeper and deeper, and the grip of loneliness on his heart gets tighter and tighter.

He’s not even alone here, he’s made many new friends and even met old ones — he’s had the chance to bond and learn about people he would never have otherwise back home.

Yet when he looks at friends from his world, he can’t help but wonder: is that my friend? He can’t help but doubt it, to think that perhaps its simply someone but from a different time and place. From a different Valentia where something happened and changed. He doesn’t know if Celica or Tobin or Gray or Faye or even Kliff are from back home, or if they’re from a time earlier than himself, or maybe even a different ‘timeline’ altogether.

Alm knows he wouldn’t be thinking of this so much, wouldn’t think it was so important, had he not met someone who was oh so clearly from a world aside his own, yet very much the same.

The knowledge of this being possible became a monkey that climbed onto his back, whispering with every encounter of a familiar person, casting doubts and keeping relations more cordial than they had to be. He sees a friend and hopes they’re his friends, instead of being thankful to see them at all. 

It haunts him.