#and. what that means is that even thinks of flowers as wastes of space. long after they’ve gotten over a lot of their other ins

[quietwingsinthesky]

even does know what plants are though. (as per doctor who canon, the way ships manage to keep oxygen on long voyages is via having literal forests in them. now, nothing to that extent, obviously, they weren’t that well-equipped or funded. but there’s definitely plants In There, probably relegated to a much more ordered existence, think the difference between a natural forest and one grown for logging.) at least they have that. they have seen plants. not often, but they have.

i don’t think they really understand plants beyond their functions (to eat, keep everyone breathing, etc.) whereas with natural beauties and animals and other such things that even has no experience with and can wonder over, they can’t really. do that with plants. the ability to admire a flower rather than immediately think of it in terms of resources lost and gained in its creation is a skill they have to learn.

but you know. at least they have seen them. that’s something. that’s slightly less depressing, right.

[o-sachi]

Roses and Thorns ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)

ଳ you always wondered what what his tattoo meant... and now you know

ଳ character; michael kaiser (bllk)

ଳ tags; angst, more angst, but comfort at the end, depiction of Kaiser's trauma, no y/n, gn reader

Roses naturally came in colors of red, pink, yellow...

But never blue.

Yet, that was the same flower that adorned his arm. From his neck and down to the back of his hand, a beautiful blue rose littered his pallid skin. You always thought it was a captivating tattoo and in many ways—it was what made Kaiser... Kaiser.

Throughout your relationship, your perception of him changes and so does your idea about what his tattoo might mean. You could have asked him directly why he had it done, but where's the fun in that?

You liked the mystery and besides, he never talked about it in the first place.

That led you to think that it was one of those tattoos that people get on a whim. Not all tattoos had a deep meaning—sometimes it's just cool to look at.

Kaiser doesn't seem like the sentimental type after all. The only thing he probably cared about in this world was football and hopefully... you.

However, that view changed the longer you've been together. After seeing more sides to him, you realized how naive and insensitive it was to box him as the kind of person who had no capability to feel deeply for anything else.

The world may know him as an arrogant prodigy, but only you knew everything else behind that. You knew the tireless dedication he had to the sport—spending many restless nights watching replays of previous matches. You knew the vulnerable Kaiser whenever he'd spend weeks away from you—missing you all the way from his fancy hotel room.

But even then, you still had no idea what his tattoo meant. In fact, the more you got to know the true Kaiser, the more doubtful you became of the countless theories you've conjured up about his ink.

Nevertheless, you were firm in your belief that you knew him inside and out. The tattoo could remain a mystery for all you cared.

But roses always came with thorns and you had to learn the hard way.

It had been a couple of weeks since you've last seen each other. Being a football superstar was cruel. What people don't see behind the glamour are all the lonely nights he spends away from your arms.

As soon as he saw you standing in the doorway of your shared condo, he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. He swayed you side-to-side, inhaling your scent that had dulled in his memory after all this time being apart from each other.

After being absent for so long, all he wanted was to sit back and relax with you—no fancy dinners or grand dates. None of that. All he wanted was to be cooped up in your arms until he fell asleep, only to wake up again in the morning.

You indulge him, of course. You wanted it too anyway.

Both of you were now sat on the sofa. It was one of those L-shaped sofas you'd see in home magazines. They were large, but the space was wasted on the two of you since you'd much rather be cramped together in a suffocating embrace. It was better that way.

You absentmindedly traced the black stems of his tattoo as you held him—as you always did. Although, it was a bit odd. Normally, at this point he'd be going in and out of sleep—fighting back the drooping of his eyelids so that he could keep talking to you.

But he was wide awake.

"You don't seem tired tonight huh?"

He huffs out. "Chugging 2 energy drinks after lunch wasn't the best idea."

"Seriously? 2? What for?" you asked, a bit puzzled.

"I figured it would give me enough energy to at least hang out with you a bit before dozing off again, but I miscalculated. That shit was strong..."

Oh... How can you be mad now?

You could only chuckle at his thoughtfulness. "We could always catch up in the morning, y'know? It's not like I'm gonna disappear."

"Eh, still," he retorts, stubborn as ever. "We haven't had a movie night in a long time anyway."

He a had point. Back then movie nights were frequent. Both of you loved it—chilling, eating popcorn, and watching a good flick before bed.

It was good timing. Before his long-awaited arrival, you had been planning on how to surprise him in little ways. You wanted to keep him on his toes and it just so happens you figured out a way to spice up movie night.

You downloaded a bunch of old romantic German movies. It would be a lot different from the usual movies that you'd watch, but he might appreciate watching a movie from his own country. He had a preference for English movies, that much you knew. It was the only thing he'd watch for some unknown reason.

Excited—you hopped off the couch at lightning speed, ready as ever to retrieve the hard drive with all your downloads. As soon as you set everything up, you were back in your earlier position with him on the sofa.

"What's up with the hard drive? You forgot to pay for your streaming account?"

You shook your head with a smile. "No, I just have a surprise~"

"Surprise huh?" A small smile formed on his face at the thought. What could be so surprising about a movie?

The film starts off with a pitch black screen before a soft song filters in. He quickly recognized that it was German—it was a German love song.

He only needed to hear that to know what the "surprise" was.

Kaiser bit his lower lip in anticipation, not that you knew what exactly he was anticipating in the first place.

He wanted to be wrong—so wrong. He hoped that he wouldn't have to see her. The woman with beautiful long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes... the woman who most resembled him.

His mother.

But fate had a funny way of curbing expectations because she was right there on screen, smiling at him.

How cruel was it that the movie you chose—out of all the German movies out there—it had to be this one.

You were quick to notice the resemblance too. The eyes... the smile... they were practically the same. Perhaps he was aware of it too with how he stiffened in your grasp.

But before you could point it out, he had excused himself. "I'll just go to the bathroom for a sec... don't wait up for me."

The sudden change of the air around him was one thing, but for him to let the movie playing without him was another. He'd always ask you to pause it if he had to leave even for a millisecond.

...Did you do something wrong?

Worry filled you to your bones. It was unusual, sure. Maybe you were overthinking it. But the longer you stayed alone on the sofa—in the darkness of the room—the less you believed that you were being melodramatic.

Maybe there was something wrong with the way he turned rigid upon seeing that woman. Maybe there was something wrong about the way he abruptly stood up and left.

Your thoughts got the best of you and you decided to check up on him. In his haste, Kaiser forgot to lock the door. So, there you were—standing by the door and staring at him.

There was something definitely wrong with the way he clutched the bathroom sink as he breathed raggedly.

You could see how his fingers turned white as he gripped his arm, almost as if clawing at the rose etched on his arm.

"What's wrong?"

Your voice snapped him back to reality. Truthfully, he didn't know what was wrong. He thought he had gotten over it all—how his mother left him and how his father treated him. But he was wrong.

There was a reason he avoided those kinds of films. He was scared she'd pop up... looking happy.. acting happy—in a world where she didn't have to be concerned with her own son.

But that's precisely it. He chose to run away from it all instead of confronting it. So now that he was faced with her after all this time of avoiding anything that evoked the concept of her—he broke down.

And he hated that he had to do it in front of you.

But it was involuntary. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

His silence told you enough—all you had to know was that he needed your embrace. To which, you indulge him again.

You cautiously made your way over to him, hovering your arms around him at first before finally pulling him into you. The air stilled around you and time stopped for a moment. Neither of you moved a muscle or spoke a word—feeling content to stay like this for however long.

Eventually, he let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. He turned around to face you, unbothered if you had to see how glassy his eyes became or if his mouth was fixed in a frown.

All this suspense caused a pit to form in your stomach. Your chest felt hollow and your hands were clammy. If he stayed silent another second longer, the water works would've kicked into high gear.

"Sorry... did I scare you?" he asked while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Sniffling a bit, you wiped your eyes as if tears have already rolled down—though, it definitely felt as if it had. "I... no, I was just worried about you. What's wrong? Please tell me."

The way you pleaded at him clenched his heart painfully. Kaiser pulled you in, planting your face into his chest. His hand caressed your hair with his chin poking the top of your head as he embraced you softly.

"Do you believe in the impossible?" he asked.

All train of thought stopped in an instant. You didn't like that this confrontation you were having was slowly turning into one of those philosophical discourse about the meaning of life and whatnot. All you wanted to know was what happened to him—plain and simple.

"That woman on the screen," he continued. "That was my mother."

The normal reaction would be shock, but it made sense. Perhaps this wasn't developing into that philosophical discourse you dreaded.

"Back then I thought I'd never have to see her in person. Maybe in one of her films, but in the flesh? I would only dream of it. But then..." he chuckles, reminiscing of the past. "Not long after that thought... I came across her on the street. Well, more like I was loitering and she was surrounded by fans while she made her way into a hotel."

His expression dropped at the recollection of such a bittersweet memory. "She never looked my way. She only smiled at the people vying for her attention. But it's funny isn't it?"

You had no idea what was so humorous about it. The revelations were coming too quick for you to let it all sink in. Silence was the only response available from you.

"Then, a week after that, the police took me away from my father." He lets out a stifled laugh out of disbelief. "And back then I thought I'd never get away from him."

"The impossible always seems to happen," he adds.

His past was just too sad, almost like it was taken from a sappy telenovela. But the fact that it was real rendered you speechless. All you could do was hug him tighter to show him that you were still with him.

With an ear to his chest, you could hear how his heartbeat went from erratic to steady. Letting that all out had calmed him down, thankfully. You felt yourself growing relaxed as well. Your eyes wandered to his arm—to the rose that entangled his limb.

To answer his question earlier—no, you didn't believe in the impossible. It's called impossible for a reason. But the sincerity in his voice had you thinking otherwise.

Blue roses... those are impossible too, you thought to yourself as your eyes trailed his tattoo. It could be another one of your silly theories, but the coincidence was hard to deny.

His hands stopped caressing your head, choosing to find purchase on your lower back instead. This prompted you to look up at him and the sheepish smile on his face.

"And..." he started again. "I thought it would be impossible for me to be loved..."

"Yet, here you are."

[🐟]: HELP THIS IS SO CHEESY I'M SORRY. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[elliesfavbae]

Are you nervous, flower? - first kiss with Ellie, part 1

synopsis: Your more experienced at kissing best friend helps you out

Pairing: Ellie Williams x unexperienced!reader

warnings: just a fluff, my first fic too (how do i crop a pic)!

part two, part three

wc: ab 1500

It was a hot summer day. Like 32 degrees celsius outside. The sweet space of your room was no better. You were BOILING, everything sticking to your skin. Ellie could’ve said the same, sitting next to you in your room. It was like she was a part of your room’s scenery at this point, she was there almost all the time. You have been friends since you remember, spending every while with each other. Ellie recently broke up with her girlfriend and she was ranting about it:

“I let her be my girlfriend for two months for what?! So she can cheat on me WITH A MAN?” She emphasizes the last three words

It seemed like she wasn’t upset about losing her, just was frustrated she “wasted” so much time, as she describes it.

“I’m telling you, she wasn’t worth it” You try to comfort her. But the amount of times she has told you about her break up within the last week is uncountable, and you can’t think of any good responses anymore.

“Yeah, I know” Ellie rolls her eyes at your answer and groans, throwing her head back.

“It could’ve been worse though. Like, you could’ve been together for a year or something” You try again but it doesn’t seem to work well and Ellie sighs.

“Two months is a long period of time anyways. You don’t understand, you’ve never had a girlfriend” She whines, throwing herself next to you on your bed.

“Hey!” You throw a pillow at her. “I still have time” 

“Okay, okay” She puts her hands up in a defensive gesture. She’s making fun of your lack of romantic relations whenever she can. “But you can do like, a lot of things in two months in a relationship“

“A lot of things? Like..?” You look at her, curiosity in your eyes as a thought occurs in your mind “Like… have you done the deed?”

“What? No! Ew, don’t say it like that” Another groan escapes Ellies’ lips and she hides her face in hands. “We just… Kissed. A lot. Unlike you” She smirks as she finds another reason to make fun of you.

You don’t say anything because you know it’s true. Yeah, you haven’t kissed anyone yet. It’s not like you didn’t want to, you just… Never had a chance.

“Actually, why have you never kissed?” She turns right to face you. There is no malice in her voice, just pure curiosity.

You drop your gaze down “I don’t know I just… I haven’t had a good opportunity, I guess?”

“Bullshit. If you wanted to do it, you’ve already done it. Seriously, with that pretty face of yours?” She jokingly strokes your cheek

Your gaze is still running away from Ellie’s inquisitive irises. Suddenly, it feels like the temperature just increased by another 32 degrees.

“I guess I am just too nervous to do it. I have, like, no idea how to kiss” You admit

A chuck escapes Ellie’s lips “Sorry, shouldn’t be laughing but it sounds ridiculous. You’ve never kissed because you don’t know how? Yet you don’t even want to try” Ellie really tries not to laugh but can’t help a giggle which she tries to cover with a cough

“It’s just not that easy as it sounds. Not for me” Though she is laughing, you don’t feel amused. You realized it’s true, you’re actually scared to kiss.

“Listen, I’m really sorry” The girl says when she sees your serious expression. Ellie puts her hand on your arm “What if someone… showed you?” Her lips curl into a playful smile

I finally let my gaze meet your eyes “Like a movie?” You awkwardly chuckle, trying not to jump to any conclusions.

“No dumbass, like a person would actually… teach you. Would that make you less nervous?” Ellie suddenly sounds kind and now it’s her gaze that runs away from your eyes.

I gulp. It’s obvious what Ellie means now “Like… you want to kiss me?” You ask, a ray of hope creeping into your voice

“No, I, uh. I don’t necessarily want to, I just want to be a good friend and help you out” She sounds so nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, yeah sure, you can steal my first kiss” I say sarcastically, but to be honest you actually want her to help me out.

“Alright, come here” Ellie’s confident again, she pats a space on your bed in front of her, inviting you to sit closer.

You take a deep breath as you change your position, fake yawning to check for bad breath hoping Ellie didn’t notice that. But she did.

“I don’t care about your breath, really” She chuckles again but it doesn’t sound annoying. Not anymore.

“It's not like I thought you would, I know you won't judge me and-” I start mumbling because of the nerves “fuck I don’t even know what I’m saying” I admit with a sigh and an awkward smile.

“Are you nervous, flower?” She brings her hands to your cheeks and gently strokes them and you feel dizzy as if the blood left your whole brain, but in reality it’s quite the opposite. A blush creeps on your cheeks. Ellie has never called you a name like that before.

“I promise it will feel nice” Your best friend half-whispers and you feel like the whole world is spinning. You must have a real stupid look on your face but you don’t even care at this moment.

“So,” she starts “It’s all about what you do before the kiss” She puts her hands down and looks you into the eyes. Then her gaze lands on your mouth and your eyes again.

“You should look them into the eyes, at their lips, and into the eyes again.” She bites her lip “Extra points if you do that.” You are so lost in this moment you don’t really listen to her anymore. You can smell her cologne and shower gel. You can feel how hard your heart is pumping, too.

“And if you’re bold enough” She stops to bring her hand to your ear and she tucks a strand of hair behind it “You can do this. Trust me, it works” But you’re a living proof it works, as well as the damp spot on your underwear is.

“So? Are you ready?”

At first, you forget words in your throat. You clear it, and answer, your voice just a whisper “...Yeah”

She puts her hands on your cheeks once again and pulls you closer. You watch as she closes her eyes, so you do the same. And then you feel her lips on yours. It doesn’t feel like you imagined, it’s wet and slippery. But she was right, it feels really nice. She sucks gently on your lower lip, tilting her head, so you do the same to her upper lip. You feel so many things at once, yet you feel numb at the same time. Butterflies in your stomach going crazy, the smell of her warm skin, soft lips against yours, confident fingers holding your cheeks, her saliva mixing with yours, throbbing between your legs. The only sound in the room is this wet kissing sound you are making and your heartbeat. And, did you hear that right, a whimper from Ellie? The kiss lasted about five seconds, but it felt like eternity to you. 

Ellie pulls away from the kiss. She keeps her hands on your face and you already miss her soft lips.

“So? How did your first kiss feel?” That’s all she says as if nothing has happened. As if she didn’t just kiss her best friend for the first time.

You touch your lips with your fingers, like you are checking if it actually happened. You are speechless at first, but finally manage to say something, it doesn’t even make sense. “Wow.. It was.. thanks Ellie”

“What?” She furrows her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips. “Um, you want advice? Another try? Anything?” She suggests, slightly amused by your reaction

“Yeah, right, advice or kiss me again or something” You start mumbling again

“I would say… Just don’t tilt your head so much. And don’t stress, princess.” She does it again, calls you a name that makes your face red “But to be honest, it was adorable how nervous you were.”

You finally regain your attitude but your voice is still low. You roll your eyes at her “So… Can you kiss me again?”

pics credits on pinterest: ambar, vic

[legolasghosty]

Lockwood has never been overly fond of lavender. Sure, it's nicer looking and smelling than most of the other tools used to separate the living and the dead, but he's always felt a bit annoyed at it. He rarely brings it up though, because there's not really a reason for his dislike.

Maybe it's that the purple stalks are everywhere, all the time. Along every London street, in every garden, in every room where mortals fear those who have passed beyond. Even in the winter, everyone has dried flowers in their homes and sprinkles the oils over their doorsteps. There's no way to get away from the stuff.

Maybe it's because lavender water is one of the weakest tools in an agent's toolkit. Lockwood barely ever uses it for anything other than reassuring clients that their home is safe after a job. For all the discussion of it, it's nothing in comparison to some sturdy iron chains and a rapier when it comes to battling ghosts. It's just a waste of space in his coat during a job.

Maybe it has to do with the way the scent sets people at ease. Somewhere in George's research, Lockwood remembers him mentioning how lavender water used to be used to treat insomnia before the Problem. Even now, with it being used to protect mortals from everything that goes bump in the night, he doesn't miss how the smell of lavender tends to cause people to loosen up, laugh a bit more, and let their guards down. Any kind of weakness can mean death for an agent, even when it comes from one of their own weapons.

Or, if he's being honest, maybe it goes deeper than that. Maybe it's because Jessica's room is always covered in the stuff, and has been since the day he failed to save her. Maybe it's because the flowery scent is all he can remember from his parents' funeral. Maybe it's because the stupid plants kept tripping him when he ran away from his old agency. Maybe it's just too many bad memories.

Regardless of the reason, Lockwood has never really liked lavender.

However, it's hard to hold onto those thoughts with Lucy sitting on the grass nearby, surrounded by night watch children, with a sloppy crown of purple flowers on her head.

She's had a soft spot for them for as long as Lockwood has known her. She claims it's because of how close she became to being one of them when she first got to London. Lockwood suspects that's not the whole story. But today, her kind heart has led them to a park down the street from Portland Row, at the beckoning of a group of children who had pooled their meager earnings to have a picnic.

Lockwood has stayed on the outskirts of the little gathering, unsure as to what would be expected of him if he joined in. But Lucy is right in the middle, regaling the kids with stories of the ghosts she's defeated. They're hanging on her every word. Lockwood can't blame them for it, Lucy is a good storyteller when she wants to be. Even if she glazes over his parts in some of her tales.

But one of the older ones had gotten restless and begun plucking sprigs of lavender from a nearby bush. Lockwood had been about to reprimand them for the needless destruction of public property, but they'd begun weaving the stems together into a chain before he could speak. It was barely five minutes before they looped the chain into a circle and plopped it onto Lucy's head without a word.

And now, staring at Lucy, her eyes bright in the sunshine, her hands waving around as she described the Greenhouse Ghoul, and those flowers shining like gemstones in her hair, Lockwood can't quite remember why he doesn't like lavender.

In fact, he thinks he very much enjoys how it looks right now. Maybe it's not so bad after all.

(For the most recent Lockwood and Co Flash Fiction Challenge by @lockwoodandcoff!)

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

could we see some romantic yandere Scott summers x reader. I have been obsessed with the x-men lately and I need more content

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒…

!!! Controlling behaviors, mentions of PDA, slightest bit of possessiveness, Scott doesn’t believe in boundaries, scary Scott, manipulation, delusions, mentions of murder.

Oooooooh, this one got me to think a little. I honestly haven’t written a purely romantic yandere in a while, so let’s see what we’re dealing with.

First off, forget about personal space. That doesn’t exist when you’ve capture the affection of a man like Scott. Expect there to always be an arm around your shoulders or waste, a hand on your back or thigh, and a shit ton of kisses. He’s not afraid of PDA, so be prepared to be absolutely disgusting to everyone around you. It’s more cuz he can’t fight the urge to touch you than to show that you’re his, but he’d be lying if that last part wasn’t a bonus.

If it was up to him, you’d be wearing his clothes 24/7. You just look so cute in his shirts and jackets, not to mention your scent being left behind on everything, too. He absolutely steals your dirty clothes just to smell them. Especially on the off chance you’re on a mission without him. It’s like he has withdrawal symptoms when you’re away, so expect him to practically attack you as soon as you’re back. Will kiss and cuddle for hours on end, don’t you dare test him.

Absolutely controls everything about your life. What you eat, what you wear, who you hang out with, what you can and can’t do... if it’s within his power, he’s taking over. He sometimes acts more like your parole officer than your lover, literally acting like you broke the law if you cross him. And honestly, in his book, you have; what he wants is basically the law. How can you do this to him, huh?!

Oh my god, please don’t keep secrets from him. Not only does he always find out, but he is absolutely terrifying when he’s pissed. You may find yourself fearing for your personal safety when you get into fights, with how he yells or roughly grabs you by the arm. Don’t worry, though. The last thing Scott wants to do is hurt you… unless if it’s absolutely necessary, but you’d have to really fuck up for it to come to that. Once he’s calmed down, he’s back to the docile cuddly Scott that’s way less scary. He also has this weird “it’s my fault that it’s your fault mentality,” which basically means that every argument is your fault, but he blames himself for not properly conditioning you to follow his every command, so part of it is still his fault, too.

A big part of Scott’s delusions surrounding you is that you’re the picture perfect couple. He’s always wanted to live the picket fence life and is a big lover boy at heart, which is why he likes to do romantic gestures like buying you flowers, picnic dates, candlelit dinners, murder, leaving little notes around the mansion for you to find… wait a minute. One of those is not like the others. Oh, yeah! Scott would totally kill for you if needed. It runs counter to the morals of the X-Men, sure, and in any normal circumstance, killing is a no-go. But he prioritizes you over anything and everything else, so if there’s even an inkling of a threat to your safety, he’s going in with fists clenched and visor blazing.

Two of the biggest advantages of having yandere Scott as your lover is that he’ll do whatever you want (as long as it fits within the parameters of his rules) and you’ll forever have scary dog privileges. While you might not have a lot of personal freedom, there are some loopholes to getting your way. You just gotta shower him in your affection and talk sweetly enough. Compromises will probably have to be made, but it’s better than nothing.

[harus-simp]

Ricky as a boyfriend

-Ricky x reader-

Warning: none

Author's note: well this is technically not a request but after speaking with it with my 🐯 anon it inida gave me some ideas 👀, so this goes for you pookie :))

°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□°□

How would ricky act as your boyfriend?

(This men would be the death of me I swear to God)

So I'm convinced he would be a little bit awkward and shy at first

I mean he's not too extroverted in itself but not too introverted with people he knows

So I'm sure he'd behave the same on a relationship

You both first met on your language academy as you were both foreigners

Initially you hadn't approached each other due to shyness and just don't knowing how to start up a conversation

Like what were you supposed to ask? Enjoyed the lesson? No, that'd be embarrassing

So you opted to see when the situation would come were you both could establish some contact

And the universe seemed to be on your side as you were both paired to make a research about korea's history to understand more the cultural aspect of the country

So he approached you quietly tapping on your shoulder to get your attention

You both started to talk about the project and exchanged numbers just for the sake of your grade

Totally not because you wanted to talk 👀

After you finishes tho, you kept talking and found you actually had a lot in common

So you started to hang out and eventually caught feelings for you as he found you so reliable and someone with whom he could act as himself :))

His confession was actually so romantic?

Like the put lots of efforts on it

He took you to the beach where you both spend the day just swimming, playing and messing around

Then you started to walk through the sand as the sun was setting, he stopped making you look back at him asking him what was wrong

"Is everything good?"

He took your hands in his giving you the most adoring gaze and a small smile

"Please be my girlfriend"

You accepted immediately and my boy here didn't waste a single second and brought you closer pulling you into a soft kiss

He really took his shot 👀

His favourite dates are probably coffee dates or tea dates, he just enjoys sitting with you and talking about anything

Although you end up talking most of the time, but he just loves to hear your voice <3

He is a man that likes to spoil his partner, so he'd buy you gifts once in a while

They could go from little necklaces to clothes to much simpler things such as flowers or taking you out to your favourite restaurant

Speaking of clothes, he's love to see you wearing his clothes, he'd think you fit them better

He's really young and rich, TALL and handsome

So if you are smaller than him he'd find so cute how big his hoodies were on you

And if you are taller or the same height as him he'd find you incredibly gorgeous and beautiful, you could be a model couple together 🤭

When he's away for too long he misses you like hell, so he'd have a picture of you as his wallpaper to look at it whenever he wants

The picture was really simple: you cuddling a plushie he had gifted you, finding the scene too adorable he couldn't help but take a photo

Now does he get jealous?

Yes (a lot)

Does he show it?

No

But he does glares with deadly eyes at whoever is flirting with you

However, if he sees you are uncomfortable he doesn't doubt to make an intervention right there

And you do know he's jealous, he literally stops speaking to you with this sweet tone

And just spaces out a lot

But a few kisses here and there will solve that in no time 😘

Also he's just a rizzler and a tease 💀

When he wants to kiss you he would just stare down your lips making you so nervous and giddy

"Stop being a jerk!"

"Make me stop"he says as he smirks and gets even closer to you

Nah you just *puff*, you are now officially a tomato 🍅

He would eventually kiss you taking your chin and tilting your head upwards to have a better position

You end up laying on your back with your hands wrapped around his shoulders and his grabbing your waist ;))

Yeah things got definitely a little bit hot there 😳

But all in all he would be a sweet lover that would love you unconditionally, you made him feel so loved and appreciated

So yeah a really nice boyfie he would be <3

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[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 9

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

A/N: dividers by @cafekitsune

series masterlist

Sol’s apartment was too big. In recent years, he had repeatedly tried for something approaching minimalism. Every time the empty beige walls would echo harshly at any disruption in the silence, his sentimentality would creep back in. Like kudzu, functionality and aesthetic would become choked by nostalgia. News clippings, photographs, pressed flowers, and sometimes even torn pages from books.

Sol’s house was also too quiet. All that space made the silence seem like another being was in the room, unspeaking but observing. It unnerved Osha at first. After the accident, she wasn’t released from the hospital for a week. Mae had already been living with Sol, and by the time Osha got there, it felt like there had been no room left for her to exist.

Just Sol, Mae, and the silence.

It was the opposite of her stranger’s apartment.

Right now, she wished she was there and not here.

A dark raincloud hung over the dinner table. It was full of everything that had happened over the last week: the issues with her job, her access to gym classes, not to mention the entirely new person in her life. The drama with the junior trainer job seemed like a goddamn lifetime ago. It made the buildup of this family dinner feel fraught with tension: any topic could be on the table, and with how long it had been, Osha wasn’t confident which secrets were off the table or not. 

She was thinking about her first training session with the stranger that evening—good motivation to survive the meal. She had been looking forward to it all day, resting just like he’d told her to. She even admitted she felt relaxed for the first time, and then—

“Are we not going to talk about it?”

Osha stabbed her food a bit violently in response to Sol’s question.

Mae said nothing.

“Why aren’t we talking about it?” he tried again.

“Because we don’t want to talk about it,” Osha said with forced lightness.

“Oshie, come on…”

“Whaaat?” Osha groaned. “I’m fucking over it. Take the job, I don’t care anymore.”

“That’s not what we’re talking about,” Sol said. He set down his utensils, abandoning any pretense that this was to be their usual scripted dinner conversation. 

She sighed and did the same. “If you want to do an intervention, you’re a few days late. I’ve already gone cold turkey from the gym.”

“So you did quit?” Mae said softly.

“It was more that I was quit on. For fucking boxing classes.”

“Vernestra’s request wasn’t unreasonable, Osha,” Sol sighed. 

Very well. They were talking about it.

“Vernestra didn’t request shit from me. Is that what she told you? She restricted my membership to the fuckin Groupon level for no reason! No upper-level classes, no more than twice a week? Those classes literally happen during my shifts. I’d have to come in on my three remaining days off to take any classes. Why, what did she fuckin’ tell you, Sol? What did the fuckin’ group chats tell you, Mae?”

“Language, please,” he said in a pained voice, rubbing at his eyes. “You were obviously upset in my class the last time I saw you. Is training at the Temple really somewhere you want to be four days a week if you are so upset?”

“Have you asked yourself why I was upset yesterday? I was upset when I walked in. Ask Mae about it.”

Osha got up from the table despite protests from her sister and her dad. She ignored them and went to the bathroom in the hall, frustrated to all hell. Her phone was back in her bag, so she couldn’t just waste time until she could leave. Still, she managed to fuck around doing nothing for all of ten minutes before Mae came knocking.

“I have to talk to you.”

“Mae, just go away—”

“It’s about—well. You know who.”

Osha opened the door and came out quietly. “Where’s Sol?” she murmured, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe.

“He said he had to get something in his car. I think he needs a second to himself.”

“You mean he’s avoiding an uncomfortable situation.”

I didn’t hear from Vernestra or any of the other trainers at the Temple once.

Part of Osha wanted to feel bad for snapping at her dad like that, but the louder part said that she was hurt more. She spoke the truth to her stranger yesterday; she was tired of this shit. Besides, it wasn’t her job to suppress her emotions just for a grown man to feel better about himself.

“What do you want, Mae?”

“I need to ask you if all this, all the lashing out, was done on purpose because you wanted to train with Qimir.”

Huh. What?

“…who the fuck is Qimir?”

Mae looked like Osha had grown another head. “The guy I trained with for two years?” she said slowly.

Qimir.

When Mae said the name, dripping with disdain, it didn’t suit him. Osha’s mind completely rejected it. If it truly was his name, it only suited part of him—a mistranslation of who he actually was. The new information slid off Osha’s impression of the stranger like water on glass.

No, that suited him better—the stranger.

“What about him?” Osha asked, trying to control the shake in her voice.

Mae crossed her arms, matching Osha and leaning on the wall opposite her. Osha didn’t meet her eyes; instead, she looked at the frames behind her shoulder and above her head. Mae’s frustration mounted, and after Osha’s deliberate obtuseness, she huffed, “Did you quit the Temple to train with him?”

Osha’s eye twitched. What right did Mae have to her personal life when she’d been so prohibitive about her own? She matched her sister’s pose but still refused to look at her. “Weren’t you listening? I didn’t quit, I was quit on.”

“You don’t think Vernestra has a point?”

“No.”

Mae stuttered a bit, clearly meaning it as a rhetorical question but getting an honest answer anyway. “I mean, you’re not—” Mae shifted from foot to foot. “It’s been a long time since you, uh.”

“You don’t think I can fight competitively either?” Osha said, finally meeting her eyes with a glare. “What did I do to you to make you lose your faith in me?”

Mae flinched a little, hurt but unable to refute Osha’s claim. “Listen, that’s not what I’m talking about. So are you—”

“It’s what I’m talking about. I’m not telling you anything for a while, Mae. If I want to tell you something, I’ll tell you. And like I told you yesterday, when I ask you something, I want honesty. I don’t think you’ll give me that, so that’s why I haven’t asked you anything at all.”

“Well, if you are training with him—”

“I don’t want your advice about this, Mae. Can you just drop it? For, like, maybe an actual week? You had two years to tell me all about him. Give me a while to process it without being supervised.”

“You know what? Fine. Have it your way, Osha. I just wanted to remedy things and warn you about who you’re getting involved with.”

He hasn’t lied to me yet, she didn’t say. Mae walked away, and Osha watched her for a few seconds before rubbing at her chest and pacing the hallway.

She approached the room they used to share. Sol had converted it into a guest room after they’d moved to their new apartment downstairs, but he never had overnight guests. His social circle was the same as the ‘old guard’ trainers: they kept things within the Temple and didn’t make friends from other gyms on principle.

Still, the baseless hope of having someone stay remained.

Osha sat on the end of the bed, with pretty memories of the past warring against the fucked-up present. The light purple walls of childhood, adorned with ribbons and proud accomplishments, had been replaced by model-home greige and even more photographs. Two beds, now one. Pictures of strangers where there used to be pictures of friends.

It hurt to hold onto the nostalgia for too long. Osha abandoned the bed and looked at the pictures hanging on what was once her side of the room.

Sol had no rhyme or reason for the wall decor in his guest room. His more impressive memories and keepsakes were in the living room—the things here were most likely moments that didn’t fit in, but he couldn’t throw them away for whatever reason. Photos of a younger Sol on his college boxing team sat above another photo of Osha at high school graduation, and next to that one was—

There were many children she didn’t recognize in that photograph. As if in a trance, she approached the small frame. She recognized the Temple, of course, but the marked youth of each person she recognized told her it was from a long time ago. Sol was in the back, beside Vernestra, Kelnacca, Indara, and Torbin—who hadn’t yet lost his eye. The five children standing before the coaches smiled with varying enthusiasm, but her eyes remained focused on the grinning little boy in glasses standing before Vernestra.

He looked older than the other children but seemed the most excited of them all. His eyes almost disappeared under the force of his goofy grin, toothy and familiar—he’d grown up since then. This little boy suited the name Mae had told her. Qimir.

Like the frame at the Temple, she popped open the back. She moved carefully as she removed the newspaper clipping from behind the glass, and held it gently as she unfolded the rest of the article.

TEMPLE GYM OUTREACH PROGRAM SETS CHARITABLE STANDARD

Vernestra Rwoh, 36, has owned and managed Temple Gym for ten years. She has started the Padawan Training Program in collaboration with the Federal District Orphanage to provide community support to the underprivileged. “For most children, their first mentors are their parents. For children without parents, finding that kind of personal guidance to navigate the world is much harder,” Rwoh said in an interview. “Though the initial scope of our program is quite small, the biggest changes start with the smallest of actions. We hope to expand to provide more opportunities to underprivileged children in the city.”

The rest of the article felt sterile and self-congratulatory, providing little information about the program.  Osha gathered that it was an outreach program training orphaned children to box. She looked back at the photograph. Beneath it, she found his name listed after Torbin’s in the smallest font.

Qimir Loharne (13)

When I was thirteen, the rods were removed, and the doctors at the spine clinic said I should join this… outreach program that was starting at the Temple.

He was thirteen. Imagining the abuse he went through over the next four years made her stomach turn. Osha refolded the news clipping and carefully tucked it under her shirt, against her skin. Her hands shook with barely repressed anger.

Hastily, she covered up where the article had been with a framed photo of herself winning third at the science fair. Looking around the rest of the room, she wondered if he was hiding—being hidden—in any other frames, but she couldn’t find anything.

She didn’t know why she was disappointed.

He was waiting for her when she came down from her apartment a few hours later. Night had fallen in the city, but city nights were never as dark as she wanted. The crescent moon that had walked her and the stranger home the night before had grown into almost a waxing quarter moon—she’d started keeping track of the moon phases as a brand-new member of Unknown Planet.

His car idled as he leaned on the passenger-side door casually. He looked like a cool, dangerous love interest in a romance movie: dressed all in black, with his hair somewhat falling into his eyes above his glasses, arms crossed, one leg bent slightly in front of the other. Osha couldn’t look that cool if she tried. All that remained of the small cut on his face was a small red line on his cheekbone. His attention was on a little device in his hands she couldn’t see, so engrossed in it that he didn’t look up when she stopped at the sidewalk. 

“Hello,” she greeted him. 

He looked up, watching her approach. “Hello.”

Osha felt rooted in place under his gaze, the weight of his name sitting heavily on her mind. “Hi,” she said, cringing inwardly. Would she ever interact with him where she didn’t act like a fool within the first ten minutes?

“Hi…” His head tilted to the side, his eyes flitting over her frozen state. He pocketed the device and approached. “Are you alright?”

The incident at Sol’s had thoroughly fucked up whatever measure of calm she’d gained from the day’s rest and recovery. Her mind was all over the place, unable to focus on one thing for long. The folded-up newspaper weighed heavily against her heart from inside her jacket. She nodded tightly in response to his question.

His smile faded a little. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No! No.” Osha sighed and pressed her cold hands to her face. “I’m so scatterbrained today; it’s not you.” Some of it’s you.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, his voice dropping into that soothing tone he used when she was in pain the other day.

“Maybe,” she said. “Can we get out of the cold first?”

“Of course.”

Before she could protest, he’d taken her gym bag off her shoulder and walked back to his car to open the door for her. She followed him like he had her on a damn leash. Wait, did she like that? She really was a goddamn mess tonight.

Once he loaded her bag into the backseat, he paused before getting in. He reached into his pocket to retrieve the device he’d been playing with, only then getting inside.

“Is that an iPod mini?” Osha guffawed.

“If it ain’t broke…” he said with a grin. “I prefer more analog things, if you couldn’t tell.”

“You use a flip phone and drive a car that could survive a nuclear apocalypse. I don’t know why I’m surprised you have an actual iPod. You probably also have a pocket watch and a VHS collection.”

“I resent that,” he huffed. “I have two pocket watches.”

Their banter set her at ease for the rest of the drive to Unknown Planet. The music on his iPod wasn’t what she usually listened to, but she enjoyed it enough not to speak over it. They passed the bar’s street entrance, and he drove down a side street to a private parking lot. He parked but didn’t move to get out just yet.

It’s your call, the silence said. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

Osha got out of the car.

Her stranger held the door for her as she walked in and followed behind as she took the stairs. This was the path they’d taken after she watched him fight for the first time, the stairs leading up to the third-floor dressing rooms. He unlocked the black door and ushered her inside with a hand on her lower back.

As they removed their winter jackets and shoes, he told her the plan for the evening: “I need to establish a baseline. I told you I’ve seen you fight, but it was only recorded footage and obviously nothing from after your injury. Seeing you move in person will give me a better idea of where to focus first.”

“How much of tonight involves jumping or running?” she asked, eyeing the rolls of tape in her bag.

“None,” he said, digging through his backpack for a pair of shorts. He tossed his glasses on top of the bag before entering the bathroom to change. Osha scrambled to do the same while he’d given her some measure of privacy, peeling off her jeans and t-shirt.

“There are plenty of ways to do cardio without exacerbating injuries,” he continued. This felt a little like their second meeting: when she changed her shirt behind a wall, and he mopped up at the cafe. “Repetitive exercises like jump rope, running, and machine workouts risk worsening your condition the more you rely on them.”

That was promising.

“Then what are we doing for cardio?” she asked, shimmying into her tank top.

“For now, swimming. Eventually, sparring. Can you swim?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know there’s a pool here.”

“There isn’t. You don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow, but we’ll be using the one at home.”

His wording had her hands nearly slipping on her shorts as she pulled them up her thighs. She corrected the fumble, snapping the waistband around her hips and folding it like usual.

“Swimming is easier on injuries,” he continued. “It uses every muscle group, and adding resistance to workouts is much safer.” He emerged from the bathroom without a shirt, going through his bag while he spoke—as if she wasn’t poleaxed seeing him like this from such a short distance. He had nothing on but low-slung basketball shorts and his socks.

“Cool,” Osha said, mind a million miles away. “Cool.”

He pulled a shirt on, followed by his glasses and a black baseball cap that kept his hair out of his eyes. “Let’s get you ready for me, hm?” He gestured to the chair when she didn’t move in response to him.

“Cool!” She wanted to slap herself. She needed to get it the fuck together. “I’ve got tape in my bag—”

“Have you used KT tape before?” He opened a drawer at the small desk beside her, revealing several thick rolls in various colors.

“Kinesiotherapy tape?”

“What’s with the face?”

Osha tried to quit scowling, but she’d already been called out for it. “Well, isn’t it… not as good as athletic tape?”

He placed several rolls beside him in a neat line, along with scissors. “Each has their benefit,” he said. “Neither is wholly better than the other. I’m guessing you haven’t used it before, then?”

“No.”

“Tell me how you wrap your ankle.”

As she explained her usual methods, she couldn’t help peeking at the colorful tapes he had brought out. Some even had little designs on them—shooting stars, rainbow stripes, and the feral river otter mascot of the college he worked at.

It was definitely much cuter than the standard white athletic tape and flesh tone pre-wrap.

He nodded. “Would you mind trying something new? Just to see if you like it.”

Osha was growing familiar with the urge to perform well for him, and it didn’t irritate her as much as it probably should have. She nodded, and he gave her a brilliant smile. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a bird taking flight.

He talked her through what he was doing, first measuring out pieces of tape, then cutting them up and applying them to her foot, ankle, knee, and thigh in bands of red and black. Aside from the aesthetic advantage, she appreciated that she didn’t have to loosen up her sneakers the way she did after layers of pre-wrap and athletic tape.

She also appreciated how his hands felt on her bare skin.

“There. Walk around a bit. If you want it off, the adhesive won’t fully set for another fifteen minutes or so.”

The method she’d been taught to use before had been good for reducing swelling and preventing sprains and strains, but sometimes, it felt like her ankle was just being squished, not supported. The KT tape felt like how she wanted her ankle to feel. With so much more freedom of movement, she almost felt like a newborn deer, amazed she could stand and walk like this. Holy fuck.

“That good?”

Shit, she’d said that out loud. He was still on the floor, putting away the rest of the tape and tugging on his shoes.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “This is crazy.” She bounced on her feet a little. She must have looked silly as hell doing lunges around the dressing room, but he only regarded her with a look of fond amusement she was growing accustomed to. He asked for a hand up.

When he got to his feet, they ended up inches apart, their height difference made glaringly obvious. Osha was surprised to find she liked it. His height, his arms, his broad fucking shoulders—they didn’t intimidate her like they probably had done for Mae. She took a breath, settling into a comfortable, calm mindset.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, touching her waist and spinning her toward the door.

The gym above Unknown Planet looked completely different from the last time she saw it. The cage had been dismantled and replaced by a large sparring mat, where pairs of people faced off—wearing anything from singlets to gis to clothes similar to what Osha was wearing. While a few individuals were locked in at the punching bags or machines, many were clustered in small groups, working together or encouraging one another. They were laughing and having fun.

Osha could count on one hand the number of times she heard laughter at the Temple. She’d need no hands to count the number of times she’d had fun in the last six years.

He led them to an empty area. Her nerves were going wild, and the prospect of disappointing him felt terrible and inevitable. But he trucked ahead. “For our warmups, we’re going to…” He showed her a series of stretches and light calisthenics to get her loose and warm. He never spoke down to her or overexplained his choices. When they were finished warming up, he checked in.

Honesty came easier with him.

“I feel like my ankle’s a little weaker. It’s not weak like failing, but not as strong as I thought. The tape helps a lot.”

He nodded, looking her over. “Can you go up on just your right foot? Flat.” He knelt before her to see better, then put her hand on his shoulder so she’d be balanced. “Up on your toes. Flat. Good. Again.”

Osha was going just a little fucking mad. Just a little, though. He seemed to like flustering her. He tended to get himself into situations where she was above him, and he was on her knees beneath her. She followed his instructions, doing a few calf raise holds on her good leg, then her injured one. Her body obeyed his instruction on autopilot, but her mind was elsewhere. Her mind was honed in on two precise places: where his thumb rubbed back and forth against her ankle, and where her hand lay flat against the shifting muscles in his shoulder.

“I see what you mean,” he said, letting go. He adjusted his glasses and tugged down his sock. “There are a few muscle groups attached to the Achilles tendon…”

He explained exactly what she was feeling, even having her put her hand on the back of his calf while he repeated the same moves she had just done. For once, the uncontrollably horny part of her brain remained silent, instead fascinated by his intelligent explanations. It was a mystery how he could even pretend to be a bumbling idiot.

She asked him so many questions, and he patiently answered each one to her satisfaction. Osha had never felt so respected and cared for in a training setting and wondered when that would change.

The rest of their session passed just like that. They hadn’t done much training overall, but by the end of things, she knew more about her ankle and knee. The formless pain now had names, faces, and weaknesses that could be exploited for her benefit—maybe even defeated.

By the time he brought her back to his dressing room, midnight had already passed. She was more worn out than she expected after so uneventful a training session.

“On the mat, Osha.”

Oh, there was her horny brain—back with a vengeance.

She tried her best to look graceful and attractive as she lowered herself to the mat, but her ankle had finally had enough of her, and it ended up being more like a slow-motion ragdoll collapse. She supposed that was what she deserved, trying to be cool in front of him. Shit, she was more tired than she thought.

But still, the yoga mat felt nice. Being flat felt nice. Her body, for once, felt nice. She groaned happily. “Yeah, mat. Great idea.”

He laughed softly and knelt beside her. His hand went to the back of her right calf, pressing his thumbs into her muscles with light pressure at first, then deeper when she didn’t flinch away in pain.

“What are you doing?” she asked, turning her head.

“You might be two and a half years out of practice, but most call this a massage.”

She kicked blindly at him with her other foot. His hand caught her quickly, avoiding any of her injured areas. She calmed down, and he continued his massage.

“Unlike athletic tapes, the KT tape can be worn for up to five days. It’s waterproof, too, so when we go to the pool tomorrow, you’ll still have the same support correcting your ankle and knee to the right tension. You can take it off at any time with a bit of oil, and if you need me, I’m never too busy to help you.”

It was harder to pay attention to him when he had his hands on her, and between the relief he gave her and the soothing tones of his voice saying such lovely things, she almost fell asleep right there. When he finally finished, she felt like her bones had gone al dente. He gave her time to change in the bathroom, and she was surprised to see the silly smile adorning her face.

You are sooo fucked, she mouthed at her reflection.

She only smiled back.

It was a little after one in the morning when they returned to the apartment complex. He parked in front of her building, idling in one of the covered spots he didn’t own. Neither of them spoke, and she didn’t move to get out. Something in the air felt taut with tension, obvious but unacknowledged. He inhaled like he would break the silence, but her anxious mouth got there first.

“I found another picture of you.” She unzipped her jacket to the inside breast pocket, where she’d carefully tucked the news clipping from Sol’s place. She gave it to him, and his jaw flexed as he looked it over.

She expected all manner of responses from him—So now you know my name. Do you believe my story now? What a long time ago—but instead, he asked her, “Why do you give me these?”

She’d been asking herself that same question. Looking at the little boy in the picture, she said, “You told me, before you took me to the bar the first time, that there was a time that you had no evidence you existed besides your pain. You shouldn’t have been—it’s just—” She exhaled harshly, staring out the windshield and fidgeting with her hands. “You do exist beyond what happened to you. And you deserve to have proof of that.”

After her halting explanation, her mind felt clearer. The nervous buzzing of her thoughts had ceased—at least temporarily. When he—when Qimir—no—when her stranger didn’t say anything for a while, she turned to look at him and was immediately caught in the snare of his gaze.

He’d leaned in toward her, lips slightly parted and eyes a little unfocused as they flitted about—eye to eye, then down to her mouth. Osha couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She could only endure the wildfire he ignited in her body, heat licking through every inch of her. His teeth slowly sunk into his lower lip, and he moved forward another inch—

“Osha,” he whispered, soft as a prayer and most likely unintentional. The sound of her name on his tongue made her shudder, and her eyes fell shut. He inhaled quickly, reality and reason coming back to him all at once.

She opened her eyes when she felt him sit back in his seat and found him straight-backed and controlled. “Thank you,” he managed to say after some silent seconds. His voice sounded rougher, full of an emotion she couldn’t place. She hoped it was desire and not regret.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. “I can, um. I can stop pushing them on you if it makes you—”

“No.”

She blinked. “No?”

“I appreciate you bringing them to me. They… you’re right. They’re signs of a life I had taken from me. It’s more than I had of myself yesterday.”

Osha smiled helplessly, leaning back against the headrest to look at him. For the first time in a long while, she felt proud of herself.

CHAPTER TEN

[acidicbarkbeast]

prompt; discovery of secret relationship wordcount; 1.4k wordcount rule; >300 cw; depression, loss, grief, temporary character death tags; came back wrong, monster!steve, ambiguous ending

Ao3

The week’s past was remembered in fits and starts, a hazy chase of memories slipping through his shaking fingers. In his dreams, the molten earth would be bloated with the bodies of faces not forgotten, writhing of its own accord. Above him, the sky would kick and twist, snarling red. Lightning would be spat at his feet as he danced.

He would wake with a scream on cracked lips, tears like hot blood running down his sallow face. Hours would pass as he slept, dead in none of the ways that mattered, because what was Eddie Munson to do without the boy who shone like the sun? The golden boy who, now lost, cursed his world into one of eternal darkness?

Even as spring brought flowers and longer days, Eddie could only think of rain. The park was a cage he could never leave, not when down the dirt road was a grave known only to him, a dark spot, soot from an old fire, like a house long consumed by flames. He would choke on the smoke whenever he got close, and so he would go back to bed.

There was nothing left of him.

An irreversible tragedy. He’d been gone when the winged leeches had dropped, when Eddie and the girls returned to find Dustin, wailing for his missing brother. It seemed impossible, to have nothing left of a boy who gave everything, who was so full of light. To have hell steal him away, it left them broken.

After, when the girls had torn him from his heart’s hands, as he watched the flesh of the gate knit itself closed, Eddie would stop talking. There was no one left to listen, no one worth sharing with. He could feel himself decaying, eating its own as he wasted away. People would visit, asking for him, but the loud, smiling person from before was gone, Eddie had buried him the night he slept cold and alone for the first time in months.

If the first collapse was the loss of Steve Harrington, then the second was the festering corpse of his love, exposed to them all without freckled arms to hold it close like something precious, vulnerable without its leash of a lover’s ribs. The hungry maggots swarmed like the frothing of ocean waves, and much like the tide, the others bobbed and swayed toward his sinking island, seeing what was hidden within.

New grief was born of the cavern gouged from his soft parts. This wasn’t how they were meant to find out, another goodness stolen from him. Eddie mourned and turned away from everyone else, why should he not, when none other had loved Steve as he had? Robin would call for him the most after this revelation, carrying her own devastation, but Eddie didn’t have the space inside himself for them both to weep.

She stopped coming so often after he yelled at her.

He didn’t mean to push everyone away, Eddie thought, he never meant to lash out at those who cared. He couldn’t help it, caught in the storm without his anchor. He was airborne, moved only by turbulent winds and an anger planted deep in his chest.

The phone would end up in his hand sometimes, and he’d blink awake, silently placing it in its plastic cradle and returning to his room. He never called them back.

His uncle’s worry permeated the trailer like a perfume, but Eddie’s anguish doused the place like spilled gasoline, overpowering. He was avoided like one might eye a spider creeping in the corners of walls, afraid to get too close, and in his solitude, he began to wander. Although it started in his head, then moved quickly to the surviving books on his shelves, then to staring out of the kitchen’s small window, it eventually led him outside.

There was something in the air at dusk, slithering along the breeze like a crocodile might sweep across muddy waters. The cloud over his brain would drift, lifting from him for just a moment, a single moment of free and wistful hope. He would smell sandalwood, burnt pancakes, a lazy morning’s coffee, and he would fall into the dark of the woods.

Maybe, if Eddie had stopped to think about this rationally, he would have realized the danger, but then, would such a possibility have mattered? Would he have cared, when the memories of brown hair, pink lips, and starry eyes were right there, reminding him every waking second of his wretched failure?

The wisp of a voice called his name, his hands, his heart. Eddie followed, stumbling over leaf litter in a trance. As the full moon rose, and the trees were lost to a blur of black shadow, he went deeper, so far from civilization that he could no longer think of the people who would miss him, if he were to never leave these woods again.

As he got closer, and as the smell of char grew stronger, he could hear it clearly now, the chittering and muttering. It clicked and gargled, hissed under a heavy breath, and Eddie was wholly captivated.

Silver like the wax of the stars, he was watched from the looming silhouettes of reaching branches, pin-sharp eyes never leaving his shaking form. The night was freezing, but over the heat of a pounding in his ears, Eddie could barely feel it. He approached languidly, a blanket of calm enveloping him in the face of the stalking beast.

What now, when he’d found his forever, beckoning to him ever so sweetly? How could he possibly think of leaving, when that might break the illusion of the dream? The figure lurking before him was tall, completely still, melting with the shadows that surrounded it. Eddie couldn’t decipher the angular planes of its face, the comet streaks and pale scars that marked its lithe body.

He only saw the eyes, and the glint of teeth.

Daring, he stepped ever closer. He wanted his boy back, he wanted Steve.

And, meeting him in the white of moonlight, was the very man he was wishing for. Impossibly, the ghost of war was blinking and breathing, smiling something small and distinctly off, though Eddie would never notice, not as he folded helplessly around him. Familiar arms held him up, supporting his jelly-soft bones, and he cried. A crooked nose prodded at his throat, digging into the warm junction of his shoulder, and Eddie cried some more, harder than he ever had in his life, so hard he felt it in his empty stomach. It made him feel like throwing up. He was sick with love.

Chapped lips scraped across chilled skin, dragging the points of fangs over his quick-beating pulse. A shroud swept over them, and it was darker than night, darker than the color black. In the pitch, Eddie gasped as he was held tighter, just on the verge of pain.

"Steve?" He murmured through the pouring of tears, and the man suddenly withdrew from him, and he could see clearly again the conflict in the light of his boyfriend’s hazel eyes, all too human. He’d already forgotten what they’d been like before.

"Go." Steve's voice was deep and growling, but Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to be scared. He thought anyone else would be, in their right mind. He also knew that Steve would never hurt him. To his panic, the younger began stepping further away, retreating back into the thicket of the woods.

"What? No, no," He begged, reaching for the other, "I'm not leaving. I can't leave you again."

"I have to go." Eddie grabbed his wrist before he could, and he finally noticed how bony it all felt, how skinny Steve had become. And as he slunk out of the moon’s glow, the softness of the creature’s face drew sharp, muscles flexing in rippled waves as his new body seemed to adjust to the shade. Eddie could feel the tendons under his grip twitch and pull, “I shouldn’t have come back. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m supposed to be dead—”

“Please don’t say that,” Eddie sobbed, wrestling himself against Steve’s chest. The cavity didn’t move under him, unbreathing, “Don’t you fucking say that. You’re not dead, you’re right here.” Wetting Steve’s bare shoulder with his snot and tears, he promised, “You’re meant to be with me. Here. Not anywhere else.”

In one swift motion, Steve’s chest caved in, a single blow of air, a single gulp of it back in, and he gathered Eddie’s trembling form in his bite-ridden arms, “Okay.”

Under a cloudless sky, they would go home together. Steve would not once shiver in the cold, and once inside, he would squint under the low-lights of the trailer, needle-thin pupils glaring red, only for a moment. Eddie would never notice.

———

crossposting from ao3, also technically a repost but i've deleted the original and reformatted some things. there might be a part2 in the works but i've yet to figure a proper ending...

[spacesurfing]

For the ghost request,

Can I request a fluff platonic reader/ghouls, the reader is a new ghoul to the band and she’s younger than the rest of the ghouls, and she sees the ghouls as older siblings, especially Swiss as he’s a sort of a mentor/older brother since they both share the spot he’s at on stage, kinda long prompt but I hope that’s ok!

I actually love this idea, cause it kinda just feels like I'm writing lighthearted fluff where the characters can also be mean to the reader in a joking way. Actually, I love making characters mean to the reader in general. I'm getting side tracked.

•--•

Two Fools On The Stage of Shame

The Band Ghost x Reader

Summary: How can one feel comfortable living with a bunch of scary ghouls? Oh wait, you're also one!

Warnings: platonic love between all the ghouls, Swiss is like a big brother to the reader <3

GIF NOT MINE!!

•--•

Swiss smirked at you after doing one of his dramatic drops on stage. It really sucked sometimes being stuck in the, what Copia referred to it as, "The Stage of Shame" with a total airhead.

It sure felt shameful watching your, what you thought of as a big brother, basically hump his microphone stand while you stood with a tambourine in hand and a microphone in front of you. But it was funny to think about how different he would act if girls in the crowd didn't drool over him touching his microphone sensually.

You didn't really understand why Copia needed another ghoul in the crew, even the addition of Sunshine was random (you had heard). But the moment you were summoned and introduced with a stage name, the rest of the ghouls looked around in confusion.

You remember Dewdrop being the first to speak up.

"Where exactly is she gonna be? And what is she even gonna do? This was pointless," he groaned, rolling his eyes.

You had also remembered the flush of pure embarrassment spreading through your face.

Copia waved his hand in the air, "She is to help with Swiss, ah? Keep him on his feet," he said with a chuckle.

A taller ghoul with the brightest teeth you'd ever seen before raised his hand above the group, "I meant to do that!"

"Sure you did, mio amico."

And now here you stood, shoulders loose and hands moving actively to create music. Your relationship with Dewdrop had improved since then. He finally started to see you as one of them and not just a waste of space. His words exactly.

And when the final note of the final song finally drifted through the air, you felt your shoulders slump completely. Goodbye Americas! The states treated you extremely well, but you were starting to miss the eerie corridors of the ministry.

Swiss let the mic go, edging it as it must've been on the brink of orgasm, cause all he ever talked about was being good with his hands. Dirty mind.

He snatched the tambourine out of your hand and rested it on the hanger attached to your mic stand, waving it off as he snatched you off your feet and hopped off the small stage.

It was the part of the show you never seemed to get used to - being thrown flowers at and various t-shirts and sometimes even bras. Usually you got stuffed animals thrown at you - you couldn't complain though, but your bed might start.

"You did alright out there, Tiny," Aether joked, coming from behind you to shake your shoulders around. His smile was wide, hooking his arm around your neck and pulling you into him for a tight, brotherly hug.

The crowd cheered at that, a black painted rose being thrown at your feet, then two more. You look in the crowd to see a girl with light brown hair pooling over her shoulders, bouncing for you to see her as she held up a bouquet of real roses, all painted black.

You smiled widely at her and she threw the whole thing at you. You picked it up equally, along with the additional 3. Handing one to Aether, you slipped away under his arm to see Dewdrop.

Tapping him on the shoulder, he turned and tilted his head. "Is that for me??" he asked eagerly, stepping to you with a glowing excitement. You gave it to him gently with a wide smile.

Cutting in front of you to make his way on harassing Rain, Swiss snatched the third loose one. You rolled your eyes, figuring he'd give it to the water ghoul anyways, you turned to run up to Mountain.

You snatched up the best one, painted dark and void of any color there was before that, you handed it to your tall friend. He took it with a bow, "You're the sweetest, you know that?"

You shrugged as he pat your head with care. Turning to look at the crowd, they were going wild, and many were looking at you.

You could get used to this.

•--•

Masterlist

[minhio22]

His Sunflower

Hevekebejeje happy belated birthday my boy shiki im sorry i forgot😭😭😭 jdbdkdbdj anyways here something after not writing for ages

When you went to school today you had this nagging feeling, this unexplainable feeling that maybe you were forgetting something important. Something that had been on your mind for long but at the last moment forgot what it was. You couldn't shake the feeling off no matter how hard you tried to retrace your thoughts, you just couldn’t remember. Maybe it was the early morning that was making you a bit trippy, your memories a blur since you weren't fully awake as you made your way to school. So you decided to brush it off, thinking that mayhaps you would remember it soon. 

Oh how wrong you were. That consistent nagging, that feeling that something was missing followed you throughout the day, plaguing your thoughts as you tried to focus on class but failed miserably. Even Shiki had noticed the shift in your demeanour today. You were so lost in thought that during P.E. as Shiki had thrown a volleyball to you for you to receive it instead hit your head softly. A sudden small yelp left your mouth and Shiki seemed mortified that he caused that to happen despite it not being his fault at all.

“A-ah…. Y/n I’m sorry. Are you alright?” Shiki went up to you worried about you spacing out so much.

You hummed to signify that you were alright as you held the volleyball and rubbed your head slightly where the ball had landed earlier. 

“You seemed…..distracted today Y/n. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m forgetting something really important…” You trailed off going deep in thought.

“You don’t know? Maybe today is an important day?” Shiki hinted lightly at you.

That seemed to give you a slight realisation but not enough for you to quite remember what it is. “Ugh! I seriously can’t put my finger on it.” You were frustrated and what you didn’t realise is that Shiki’s face fell a bit as he patted your back hesitantly.

You had said your goodbyes to Shiki as you left school and that night in your room that feeling still haunted you. As you sat on your bed staring at nowhere in particular, eyes darted around your dim bedroom lazily as it landed on your project that was on your table. It was still such a mess but you had managed to finish it despite the thousand attempts it took you to even get it right and hold its shape. You stood up as you walked to your desk, your hand brushing against the thing you had been working on relentlessly trying to get it just right. It was one of those fake flowers made out of ribbons that you tried your hand at. Sunflowers were the ones that sat on your desk. You wanted to give them to Shiki during his birthday, opting to give him those instead of real flowers since you thought it would be a waste if they died early.

At that moment your phone rang, you picked it up not even bothering to glance at the number. 

“Hello?” That was the only thing you managed to get out of your mouth before you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Y/n do you know why Shiki seems so down. More than usual I mean.” It was Yohei.

“Eh? What? Did something happen?”

“That’s what I’m asking you. He’s been like this since Ryu brought him back.” Yohei grumbled. “You don’t have anything to do with it do you?”

“Me? No, I didn't do anything. I’m not even sure why you thought of that Kanbayashi-san.”

Yohei was about to say that whenever Shiki had extreme feelings it was always related to you but he bit his tongue. Yohei sighed. “You forgot something today didn’t you?”

“How did you know…?”

“I thought so.” Yohei sighed again. “It’s his birthday.”

Oh. oh……You were probably swearing at yourself so much right now but you managed to catch that Yohei said the bar was still open and the line went dead. Without much thought you grabbed the ribbon sunflowers and darted out of your room. Your parents were in the living room watching a late night program and they questioned where you were heading this late at night. You only yelled back to them that you had to do something important at your friend’s place.

You ran and ran and ran, breathing heavily. The only time you had run this hard was probably during your sport practices but even now you felt like you were running faster compared to then. Straight. Left. Right. Another right and straight again. You probably had the route to Bar 4/7 memorised like the back of your hand, your mind letting your legs bring you there without much thought.

When you arrived you just slammed the front door open, the bell ringing as you just held the door open and your breath panting. Saimon sensei was the one who first saw you in all your sweaty glory as he chuckled and tilted his head to the back door gesturing to you where you should head. Everyone probably already knew. Well maybe except Ryu but that’s a different story.

You immediately made your way there and loo and behold there he was in all his glory as he washed the countless cups and glasses from the night. Yohei was right, Shiki did seem a bit down, his shoulders slumped as he washed the dishes.

“Shiki.” You breathed out. Oh dear you probably should've taken time to compose yourself before you faced him but oh well what’s done is done.

Shiki raised his head and his eyes widened when he saw you. The sight of you breathless and panting like you just ran here-which you did- surprised him. He wondered what you were doing here so late at night. He took off the gloves and placed them beside the sink.

You didn’t say anything as you went up to him and just placed the ribbon sunflowers in his hands as apologies came sputtering out of your mouth. “I’m sorry Shiki I forgot. What kind of friend am I to forget your birthday? Oh my gosh you don’t deserve this kind of treatment-”

“Thanks.” It was faint but it made you stop spewing out apologies to him. It was so soft that you might’ve missed it if you weren’t used to Shiki talking in that tone at times. He was staring adoringly at the present you had made for him. Shiki could see how much effort you put into it as he was aware that you had been buying so many ribbons recently. He knew you weren’t the best at doing things right the first time but knowing that the current version in his hands was nearly perfect made him almost blush at how much thought you put into it. Shiki didn’t say anything as he just stared at the ribbon flowers and back at you. Ah it made your heart flutter momentarily the way he stared at it as if it was the most precious thing on Earth. 

[sitraachranovel]

Eldha the Repentant

The Bodach ducked as she entered the covered wagon. At nearly seven feet tall, she towered over the terrier-like Cinocephali. With her more sighthound-like appearance, it was plain she was not originally of them, but the robes she wore reassured any who might question her faith. Blunted claws reached into the awaiting goblet, the pure water sizzling on her finger tips and upon her shoulders and behind her ears as she dabbed it in the gesture of Azrael, the Angel of Death, and their object of worship. The water tingled on her tongue when she licked the last few drops from her fingers, and bowed reverently to the effigy of the winged figure in the back. Settling down before it, she lit the prepared incense and leaned forward to pick up the small mallet and tap the bell suspended beneath the shrine, letting others outside the wagon know that she was about to engage in her daily meditation.

Sitting cross-legged, hands folded in prayer, her ear twitched towards the entryway behind her.

"You may enter," she said, without opening her eyes. Her voice was gentle, deep and warm, if a bit stoic. Her nose had told her who it was that had approached long before she had arrived at the flap of the wagon. "I do not mind."

Saga hesitated, but eventually slipped inside, folding the tarps behind her as neatly as she could. The small flames of the many lamps and covered candles kept the interior warm, the haze from the incense was sweet and spicy like a hot, floral, tea. The windows had been covered by sheets and the walls were draped in fetishes made of dried flowers and the preserved bodies of small birds, the copper bells weighing them down tinkled softly like windchimes when she brushed passed. The human fidgeted for a bit, preparing to turn and retreat back outside, when the Bodach spoke once more.

"You may sit, if you like. You must have many questions. It would not trouble me to provide answers."

Saga came to settle down on the quilted pad next to her, shifting so that she was mimicking her position with her legs folded beneath her. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, at length, voice a whisper as if speaking much louder might break the sanctity of the space around her. "If... it's alright to ask."

"Meditating," the dog-headed woman replied. "Do you know what it is to meditate?"

Saga shook her head, before realizing Eldha hadn't opened her eyes once since she stepped into the wagon. "No. What... what exactly is it?"

"A ritual of a kind. One to reassert tranquility to a troubled mind and burdened body. And a communion with Azrael, our Lord Angel. It is a reflection of the peaceful Death we all hope for in this world. A way to manifest it when the time comes. Or so I have been told."

Saga, once again, fidgeted, fumbling with the cuff of her pants. "You're so different from the others," she said, at length, unable to think of anything more constructive to say.

Eldha opened her eyes. "Am I?"

Saga's jaw clenched and was fearful she had stumbled upon the wrong question. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound disrespectful."

"Not at all," reassured Eldha, her long snout dipping in her direction as she turned her head to speak. "It is true. I am not originally of the Cinocephali. My home was with a Barghest clan who travelled the southern Wastes of the First Circle."

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what the difference might be between a 'Barghest' and a 'See-note-cephally'? Is that what you said?"

Eldha's hands fell to her lap. "There are three main types of Bodach. The Barghest, the Cinocephli, and the Sharhurster. The Barghest are my people. We are tall and swift and as devoted to our faith as any other Bodach, even if it is quite different from the Sharhuster and the Cinocephali. Our deity is more of a... spirit than an actual manifestation of Ein Sof. Our leaders are called 'Omens', rather than 'Bishops'. At one time, I was intended to be an Omen."

Saga's eyebrows rose and she hesitated to ask for her to continue, sensing that it might be a sensitive topic for her. But eventually, the Bodach continued, taking her time as always.

"Omens are the only members of the pack that can understand the mind of Fatuu, our deity. He shares his intent and dreams with us, to guide us through the Wastes to our next feast. But, one day, Fatuu spoke to me. He showed me a vision of the current Omen defying his guidance by leading us through a dangerous portion of the Wastes, a portion overrun with Edenblight. Greater Demons hold no immunity against it. We are as affected by it as humans, even if some may tell you otherwise. And, Bodachs may be harbingers of Death, but we do not inflict it upon others, much less each other. Death is to be earned. It is a reward for a life well-lived, and not to be given so freely. I tried to stop him, but it was to no avail. In the violence, I misstepped and the two of us went tumbling over a ridge. His body broke my fall, but my fall had broken him..."

"Oh... I'm so sorry."

"As murder is considered the gravest of sins, I was marked." She pointed to the scar criss-crossing her forehead. "And abandoned. I travelled for days, trailing behind them, hoping for scraps, for some kindness from those whom I once loved and who loved me. Even my daughter was kept from me... Eventually, I could do nothing else but surrender. My fight was over, but it wasn't all for nothing... I tried to take solace in the understanding that they only did what they thought was right. And that I had won my pack's, and my daughter's, survival so that they may one day earn their proper Death as well. And so I laid down in the dirt, attempting to make peace with myself while I waited for the Auspice Holem to take me into her arms..." She frowned.

"And then the Cinocephali found you?"

"When I opened my eyes and saw them standing over me, I was taken aback by the realization of something that defied everything that had ever been instilled in me since I was a child." She frowned, her eyes fixed on the shrine. "I was... afraid."

"Afraid?"

Eldha nodded. "Of dying. I was so overcome with relief when it was not the arms of Holem who had come to hold me, but those of Mattheus and the others. So overcome that I felt ashamed that it was not yet my time after all. Nonetheless, I was grateful and as repayment, I dedicated my life to learning their ways, becoming an honorary Cinocephalus."

Saga took a moment to absorb this, unable to articulate anything further, before something finally came to mind."Does Fatuu ever speak to you any more?"

Eldha's blue eyes returned to the effigy of the winged, vaguely human, figure mounted upon its bed of flowers. "Yes. In a way. I have not had a vision in some time, but I find Azrael's words guidance enough." She reached for a book bound in thick leather to pass it to Saga. Odd runes were inscribed on the cover in ornate script. "I have found that the two are much the same."

Saga took the heavy book into her lap and unlatched it to slowly flip through and observe the small, delicately written, lettering. The illustrations were rare, though highly detailed and vivid with bright, mismatched colors that probably made more sense to the eyes of the canine Bodach than to a human. Azrael was depicted as having many forms; a dog-headed angel with the body of a man, a great and terrible figure with many, black, wings and a skeletal face, a scythe gripped in one clawed hand, and something like a star with several gold rings encircling it, wreathed, once again, in the ever-present, feathered, wings. Studying the pages left Saga with more questions than she had opportunity to ask at that moment. Angels were not gods, were they? And Demons could hardly look upon them without going blind...

With so many mysteries now unfolding in her mind, Saga decided to remain focused on learning more about Eldha herself. "So, do you like it with the Cinocephali? Do you ever miss your family?"

"Of course, but Matteus and the others treat me well. As though I am no different from themselves..." The corners of her mouth drew back in a subtle smile. "Even if I am summoned more often than not to reach for things on the highest shelf. It's the least I can do to repay their kindness."

Saga smiled back, and returned the book. "I'm afraid I can't read this," she said. "But thank you for showing it to me."

"It stands to reason that you cannot yet read, my child," replied Eldha, accepting the tome back into her hands. "Would you like to learn?"

The human looked up at her and blinked, dark eyes wide. "Would you teach me?" she asked, with some incredulity, as if the Bodach were offering a precious gift she did not feel entitled to.

Eldha nodded. "It is a long way to Shaa Edan, and such knowledge will surely prove invaluable once you arrive there." Her smile broadened a little more. "As well, it will do to pass the time."

[ihavetoomuchhomeworkforthis]

So I found this on Google, and I accidentally ended up having a megabrainstorm session with my dad about if Vulcans were actually photosynthetic, or really just how photosynthetic humanoids would work in general and how they'd function on a Starfleet ship? It was more like me ranting excitedly at my dad for a few minutes, but there were some cool ideas in there. (I mean I think they're cool, hopefully you guys do too)

Warning: EXTREMELY long (and nerdy) bullet point list follows under the cut

green skin because chlorophyll

possibly even leafy skin, which might end up looking more like scales, but with patches of softer more leaf-like areas where we'd have more body fat and/or body hair

(they can still have that Vulcan hair though, since it's sort of a defining trait/style of the species in Star trek)

This means they have to absorb sunlight through their skin, and convert it into energy in the form of glucose, like trees

Therefore they'd have to have glucose (not copper) based blood (but the melting point of sugar is really high? Hadn't quite worked that part out)

Their blood would be white then? Amber, like tree sap. Wait actually don't some flowers/green stemmed things have white sap in the stems? (Maybe their blood would change from white to amber as they age? I know flowers aren't younger versions of trees, but it would be cool)

and they'd have to drink water just as much as humans because plants need water (as Chekhov is panicking about) but maybe since Chekhov is worried about "watering" spock, their hair can function like roots or something to soak up extra water as well. Idk if it rains much on Vulcan but when it did they'd all be going outside like the worms do on Earth lol

They wouldn't really have to eat if sunlight is their primary energy source. Their mouth would be just for water, breathing, and speaking. In which case they'd have ALL different organ systems, seeing as our digestive system takes up a good chunk of space in the torso, what would they fill it with? Being humanoid, they'd still need lungs, as well as a heart to circulate the (glucose based?) blood. They can still have a liver as a toxin filter and whatever else livers do (trees have to deal with not-so-clean water, so the photosynthetic Vulcans could probably deal with pretty muddy/questionable water as well. And maybe that connects to a very basic digestive system (liver-filters > short and singular intestine > rectum) which is mostly just for getting rid of the mud (yes, pooping.) And the liver can also deal with dusty/sandy air probably. Oh they might not need to eat (maybe even CAN'T eat since they wouldn't need or have the organs to deal with it) but they could drink liquids other than water, and it might be helpful/necessary to drink sugary fruit drinks if it's been cloudy for a few days, because humanoids expend a LOT more energy than plants probably do. They probably have a "stomach" which acts as a storage and distribution-into-bloodstream area for water and sugar, a little like how a camel's hump works, so it might not only be "OMG did anyone water Spock today!?" But also "OMG Spock fainted, somebody get him fruit juice!" *frantic running to the mess hall* *20 ccs of sugar* "I told you to drink more sugary stuff, our artificial light here just can't give you as much energy as your THREE ENTIRE SUNS back home, you ****ing idiotic hobgoblin!" *definitely not crying over Spock's wellbeing*

Idk what would make up the rest of their torso since they don't need as much space for organs. Heart, lungs, liver, one intestine + waste management, storage stomach, and the rest of ours is primarily taken over by about 15 feet of scrunched intestines, so maybe for them it's all leg, or they could maybe have a redundant extra pair of lungs, and/or another heart, especially to lessen the workload since tree sap is significantly thicker than human blood? Or maybe all the water would thin it out? Or one heart is more connected to the skin where they absorb light energy and cycles the glucose-based blood (which goes from white to amber as they grow up) and the other heart connects more to the water/fruit juice storage stomach and cycles water as well as somehow sends old water off to get peed out? And they should also have an organ that somehow counters sunburn and helps then deal with their world's elevated levels of radiation.

So: two pairs of lungs (for no real reason), two hearts (and two circulatory systems?), one for water and one that's more for the nutrients of glucose from sunlight, a storage stomach, a liver, an organ that deals with radiation and sunburn, a short intestine for the undrinkable parts of potentially muddy/contaminated water, the rectum to poop out the mud, the kidneys/bladder/urinary system for old water, and I think that's it.

I've been occasionally researching (googling) during the process of writing this, and I found that trees actually do have 2 different kinds of sap! Phloem is the "more nutrient rich form, and flows from the leaves bringing sugars and hormones to nutrient-hungry parts of the plant," while Xylem "consists mostly of water" so it's perfectly reasonable for them to have 2 hearts, one for each kind!

But how can we design starships to be more Vulcan-friendly then, if they need so much light? Well first of all, having sugar as an option for hyposprays in the medbay/sickbay, as well as plenty of sugary drinks available in the replicators, and the sugary fruit drinks shouldn't "cost" as much in rations since the Vulcans sort of need it as much as they need water when they aren't able to access direct sunlight. Speaking of which, all the hallways should have strips of light off to the side (one on the floor and another shining down from the ceiling above it) that the Vulcan crewmembers can walk through, and there should be a solarium room which does its best to replicate at least the lighting and radiation conditions of Vulcan (the planet). This solarium should have the light panels be able to slide away to reveal actual windows, and starships with any Vulcans in their crew should be required to spend a minimum amount of time every so often in orbit of an actual sun or star system so that the Vulcans can have genuine sunlight. It would be really funny if Spock just had a spotlight that follows him around like Olaf's snow cloud in Frozen, but it would be more practical if his station on the bridge just had extra light panels which are positioned in some way so as not to shine in his eyes. Also, this photosynthesis sort of depends on their skin actually being exposed to light, so the uniform would probably be modified for Vulcans to be short sleeves and shorts despite how weird that would be, or it would be designed like tinted glass somehow, or... some other way of letting the light in without being immodest, idk

And now for a very important question: some trees are deciduous, yes? Oh dang it I just googled whether Vulcan has seasons and the answer was no. Scrolling down pointed out that Vulcan is a desert planet and so they'd naturally be able to go without water for longer periods of time than humans. That second one is okay, that's why they have a water storage organ sort of like camels, and I guess maybe they wouldn't need so much water after all. More like cacti than trees. But the no axis tilt / no seasons thing sort of cancels out what I was about to write :(

I'll write it anyway. Let's pretend for a second that Vulcan has seasons, because this whole thing can really apply to "photosynthetic humanoids" in general, not just photosynthetic Vulcans in particular. So, I was about to talk about deciduous trees :) When the seasons shift towards winter, the sunlight is weaker, trees go red before losing their leaves and sort of hibernating, right? Well what if Vulcans start going pale, then yellowy, and eventually taking on a pale reddish hue, and since they can't lose their skin to conserve energy, they consume as much sugar/fruit juice as they can over a period of a few weeks, before going into hibernation like bears?

This means that your Vulcan crewmate is kind of useless for at least a quarter of every year, which isn't really a problem unless they're a senior officer, but if they ARE a senior officer, they better have an apprentice or someone who can cover for them while they hibernate. Maybe another Vulcan from the opposite side of the planet, who would naturally hibernate during the opposite half of the year.

Would this Vulcan and their opposite-side-of-the-planet counterpart be best friends, or bitter rivals? Who knows!

Now, starships do not actually have seasons, so the hibernation cycle wouldn't be technically necessary. The Vulcan has two options: either slowly adjust to the year-round availability of sunlight over a period of multiple years so that they don't have to abandon their crew for a few months out of every year (and be SEVERELY messed up if they ever retire and go back to the hypothetical version of Vulcan which has seasons), OR, make sure that the availability of light mimics the seasonal cycle of pretend-Vulcan-with-seasons so that they can have their hibernation cycle properly. (Clearly the better option if they aren't a senior officer, especially if they don't plan to spend the rest of their life on the ship.)

Also it would be really cute to see what kind of pillow fort nest Spock would probably end up making in his quarters to hibernate in. I wonder if they'd visit him.

DO NOT WAKE THE HIBERNATING SPOCK. Google says waking up an animal from hibernation too early can have fatal consequences. On the other hand, it also said bears can wake themselves up immediately to protect cubs if necessary or if they're startled awake, so maybe he can respond to red alerts. However going based off the first point, it might be necessary to completely soundproof his quarters and make sure he remains undisturbed. And yet another possibility is that photosynthetic Vulcans wouldn't need to hibernate at all if they come from a part of the planet which is mostly friendly year-round (which would technically be true, since it doesn't actually have seasons at all, and they would choose to have civilizations in the most habitable areas. Maybe civilizations closer to the poles would have Vulcans that are naturally paler or more reddish, like how the Aenar on the Andorian homeworld are blind and paler.)

Animals coming out of hibernation can have lost up to 30% of their body weight (over a QUARTER), so Vulcans coming out of hibernation would look so sick and weak, and they'd probably take a while to get their full green color back, and the more soft leafy areas of higher body fat would have shriveled into just the small scale-like leaves that make up the majority of their skin, and their uniforms would be all baggy on them, and the human crew would probably be so so so worried for them, especially the first few hibernation cycles

*Spock stumbles onto the bridge for the first time in several months, pale orange-red and extremely skinny* "Oh my god, Spock!" (overjoyed at his return) -- "Oh my god Spock you look like crap, are you alright?" (softer and full of concern upon actually noticing what he looks like) -- "This is perfectly normal, I'll be fine, you need me on du-" *faints*

[bittybeanie]

Hello! Would it be okay if I request headcanons where security guard dimple and reigen fight over coworker reader's attention? Thanks in advance in case you ever write it

hello hello! I always picture dimple and reigen as like.. an old married couple™ even if they aren't exactly dating and this concept plays right into the bickering aspect in my mind so I absolutely loved this idea- hope you enjoy!

dimple starts off at a slight disadvantage because while you’ve heard other people talk about him you haven’t actually gotten to see/hear him for yourself to get used to how... brash... he can be. so when this random (admittedly very attractive) dude wanders into the office and starts trash talking reigen and his lack of clients and nobody else seems bothered you’re just like… who the fuck are you? it's not until somebody finally addresses him by name that you realize reigen isn't sassing a random ass client

dimple is also kinda banking on the fact that you don't know who he is though because it means he can start with a Fresh Slate and make a Good Impression. not that he's doing that by shouldering reigen out of the way or standing between the two of you every chance he gets, but y'know. it's… endearing? in its own sort of way? you could get used to it, at the very least.

reigen is mentally distracting whereas dimple is physically distracting. dimple will lean on your shoulder or over you or have a hand across your back basically the whole time because he’s got a body and he’s gonna use it, damn it. but if he stays like that for too long, reigen will pull you away by asking you to help with something or grab something from the other room or basically anything that will move you away from dimple without you realizing specifically that’s what’s happening

despite their best efforts, because they’re both just trying to counter each other rather than focusing on you, they end up balancing each other out so that you give them equal amounts of attention. dimple probably realizes this the fastest and changes tactics to be on your desk or otherwise in your space rather than touching you directly. basically the "I'm not touching you" vibe but smugly directed at reigen.

their facial expressions change so fast when they think you can't see them, especially reigen. he's really slathering on the charm with you but the second you turn your head he's glaring dimple to within an inch of his life. dimple usually just sticks out his tongue.

I can't decide if it would be funnier if you knew and were kinda in on the joke goading them on or if you were totally oblivious and all their efforts were basically going to waste. or maybe a happy medium of like- you realize something is going on but you're not gonna question it because you're just enjoying the attention.

eventually reigen realizes he has to up his game by also getting physically closer to you, but that's when it all starts to fall apart. either you finally realize what's going on or it just becomes too much to handle but you get VERY flustered and kinda pull back in panic and run off into another room to pretend to work on something else

you can immediately hear them arguing over whose fault it was and somehow the fact that they're right back to normal calms your nerves over the whole thing. when you finally come back out, reigen apologizes immediately for "not conducting himself properly in the office setting” and ekubo continues to insist that it's reigens fault but it doesn't stop him from also apologizing. they give you some space, but they don’t stop glaring at each other when they think you’re not looking.

they never really stop competing but it slowly shifts from trying to sabotage each other to trying to outdo each other, and that’s definitely a change you can live with when it means you constantly have fresh flowers on your desk and you get to share reigen’s home cooked lunches almost every day.

(dimple can’t possess the poor guy every day, so sometimes instead of a flower you’ll find notes that he writes out in advance, which you keep tucked safely in a drawer of your desk. if he catches you reading them while you don’t realize he’s around he takes every possible chance to gloat to reigen and tease you the next time he brings his host.)

[sansloii]

It's honestly a wonder — how quickly they were growing.

When the strange flowers had sprouted, it'd just been a handful of them — maybe one or two. It was not lost on him that the spot that they had sprouted from was the very same circle of pavement that their Meriet royal guest had occupied some months prior. Whether or not anyone else remembered the exact spot, he didn't know… but he's all but certain that the quickly filling ring of strange flora occupied the same space the queen did.

They're similar to that… lily that the people of Meriburn revere… but the colors are off. The blues and the purples — they're faded and barely recognizable. The whole flower even has some sort of… translucent, ivory film over it, making it somewhat uncomfortable to stare at for long periods of time. The Brecaean prince couldn't place why that was, exactly.

Over the course of a week, the flowers themselves didn't really travel outside the confines of an invisible ring ( the dimensions of the platform that formerly sat there, he thinks ) and they don't travel much further than that. The roots of these plants, on the other hand, don't seem as restricted as the flowers do and have since formed a perimeter around the flora. It's not obvious from a distance, but the broken and split pavement is all but a giveaway that it wasn't as centralized as they thought.

“At the end of the week, you'll be traveling to Meriburn.” is what his father tells him. “Both you and Sybil. Your mother and I would go in your stead but…”

It's not convenient — and, surely, their citizens would worry more if they caught wind that their king and queen rushed over to Meriburn at the first sight of these flowers. It could cause people to start fearing the worst — if they weren't already.

“…Was anyone able to get a sample from the flowers?” Getting close was not an issue. Touching them was another story entirely. “I don't want to make the trip to Meriburn only to be forced to return because we lacked one.”

“The scholars, practitioners, and researchers near the site should be able to retrieve one before you depart. We didn't intend to send you without proof of some kind.” What follows the king's words then is a sigh, not quite wringing his hands in front of him but still rubbing the opposite thumb over his fingers and knuckles. “Will one be enough? Perhaps two would be more appropriate.”

A quizzical noise bubbles up in Wynn's throat. “…For?”

“If they intend to run their own tests — same as us — one will not suffice. If they pick it apart, what reference will they have?”

Still, wouldn't their own researchers end up traveling here if they run out? It made no sense to him…

“…Why not have them come here instead?” he asks, “I mean — it would not be a waste. It's not like the flowers themselves are going anywhere. It seems like it's a bit of a hassle to go with only two samples… They're likely going to need more.”

“You're going to ensure that they take it seriously. You, I, the castle — we are not the only ones that remember that the Queen of Meriburn occupied that spot during the festival… You and I both know people like to talk more than they should.” the king answers. “I, like others, would like to know if it was intentional… because if it was not, that is a greater problem than if it was.”

[longingpolaris]

a quiet moment

pairing: asakiku | word count: 538

"So, when can you come by?"

"Hmm..." The sound of dishes clattering against each other as they were placed to dry echoed through the call, punctuating Kiku’s musings. "I'll have to check, but I think I'll be free next week. Is that okay with you?"

"I think next week is fine, yeah," Arthur replied, quickly glancing at his calendar. There were days circled in the following week– he was actually busy, but it wasn't anything that couldn't be rescheduled. Surely. "We should do something. If the weather is nice, that is."

Kiku chuckled softly as he took notice of the antsy edge in Arthur’s voice. "Do you want to go to that restaurant again?"

"No, I was thinking of something more... outdoorsy. It's almost spring."

"お花見とか?"

"Maybe, I don’t know…” Arthur hummed as he absentmindedly twirled his fork around his food. Looking through the window, all he could see was grey– both the sky and the buildings, an almost shapeless grey mass. It was all so dull and depressing… and suddenly going out to see flowers seemed truly appealing. “Actually, that's brilliant. You stay there and I'll go. There's nothing to do here anyway."

"Don't be mean to yourself," Kiku jokingly scolded, "There's plenty of things to do at your place. But if you want to come, that's fine."

"I'll be there on Monday."

Kiku nodded, and although Arthur could not see it, he imagined it when no verbal answer came, and with that, they fell into silence. Arthur ate and mindlessly scrolled through social media while Kiku washed the rest of his dishes, as if they had simply forgotten to hang up once the conversation died out.

But they definitely did not forget.

It may seem wasteful to spend hours on the phone not talking, but they only ever hung up when it was absolutely necessary. That's because, even through the phone, the comfort of a silent presence was always welcome.

The opening and closing of kitchen cabinets and the sound of cutlery scratching against the plate filled the otherwise silent, cold space around them, and it felt as if they weren't really alone.

It was as if their houses were neighbouring apartments, separated only by thin walls instead of the ten thousand leagues of clouds and waves of reality. Momentarily, the longing eased and gave way to a numbing sense of tranquillity.

“Tokyo is too crowded, we should go somewhere else,” Kiku suddenly said, having just remembered how unpleasant a busy metropolis could be.

"True… Why don't we go to your house? The one in Kanazawa."

"That would be nice. I haven't been there in a while."

After minutes passed without either of them saying a word, the dreaded moment that had been creeping up on them finally arrived. Kiku finished washing the dishes and Arthur finished his lunch, which meant that they would have to hang up.

As much as they would like to spend the entire afternoon/night talking to each other, they had matters to attend to, especially if they wanted to have free time next week.

Goodbyes were little more than quiet, loving mumbles, questions about what the other would be doing the next day followed by a soft “see you soon...”

[forevfangirlwrites]

Hey, first of all, I just want to say that I absolutely loved "how to handle fame and apologies", it was fantastic and so emotional, you truly are the best❤️😭

And I want to ask - could you please write a short bonus to this in Annabeth POV of the moment when she realizes that she has forgotten about the dinner? I don't mean their conversation, just that moment at the event when Frank lets her know that Percy called and realization hits her and she sees his worried texts and unanswered calls. Like, you could end it with her coming home and seeing the entire set up for dinner and Percy sleeping. I'd love to see Annabeth's thoughts in it.

Annabeth is exhausted. It’s been one of those days where every scene has too many takes and leaves everyone unsatisfied. Even the director, who’s been trying to hide it, gives herself away when she calls it after the last take.

As soon as she’s done, Annabeth wants nothing more than to go home. She’s been in the industry long enough to know that some days are just like this, but it doesn’t stop it from getting overwhelming.

Home is her safe space, Percy is her safe space.

Just as she gestures to Frank, about to leave, a hand on her arm stops her.

“Annabeth Chase!”

Mr. D, as he’s known, the pocket pretty much funding this whole movie, is smiling at her. She forces herself to smile back.

“Mr. D, how great to see you,” she replies meekly.

It isn’t, she just wants to go.

“I just stopped by to see how things are going.” She groans internally, of course he’d come today of all days.

“Carrying along,” she replies meekly.

“Yes yes,” he waves his hand. “But you know the scene, oh, hold on, where is Jane…” And before she knows it, she’s being dragged to the director’s chair.

It’s a stupidly pointless conversation, she thinks, as they hash out semantics over the scene they had just wrapped.

“You know, maybe just a bit more,” he says, waving his hands. She tries not to groan. More, more what? It’s vague and pointless and they always want more.

The director, not to be outdone, agrees needlessly and it’s a stupid out-performance.

She notices Frank walking over to her and leans closer to him to hear what he has to say.

“Percy called.”

Shit.

She glances at her phone, and sure enough she’s late, and she has two missed calls from Percy. Anger and guilt rise as she realizes that half an hour of her life has been wasted by this conversation.

“Sorry,” she butts in. “I have another appointment.”  And with one last smile, Frank quickly escorts her away.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she says, gripping his arm as they try to make their way to the car. He really saved her.

She dials Percy’s number as she gets into the car, but it goes to voicemail. Her heart sinks as she finally looks through the messages.

He said he was gonna make dinner and she promised she’d be back on time for it. But of course the shoot ran late and then the most inane conversation with every person just wanting more.

She’s so sick of it. Sick of everyone wanting something from her.

Quickly typing out an apology, she exits to her home screen where his face appears.

Except Percy.

With Percy all the ‘more’ fades to a sweet nothing. He just takes her as she is, never asks for anything.

Well, other than to make it to the dinner on time.

She closes her eyes, trying to will away the shitty feeling, imagining him humming as he cooks in the kitchen. Imagines how he holds her and whispers that she’s amazing and it doesn’t matter if Mr. D made a slight dig at her acting because she’s perfect.

She could cry.

Her heart is still aching when she jumps out the car and runs to the door. She needs to see him, needs to—

She freezes at the sight before her. Candles and flowers and a table set for two, and Percy… Percy lying with his head down on the table with his eyes closed, a glass of wine left unfinished beside him.

It breaks her heart.

-.-

Later that night as he holds her close, she whispers another apology into his neck, feeling him breath evenly as he sleeps and lets herself sink into the sweet nothing. 

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! I’m glad you liked that chapter and I hope you like this little update to it! Thanks again and sorry for the delay!