#pom pom clusters

[01zfan]

housequake | j. sc

soccer player!sungchan x cheerleader!reader | 6.2k words

contains: house party, drug mention, random idols mentioned for world building, sex but no penetration (HEHE)

housequake: during the party | after the party

you could feel the sidewalk underneath the soles of your feet. your cheering shoes weren’t meant to be on anything other than synthetic turf and a gymnasium floor. you could practically feel the expensive material of your shoes wearing down as they rubbed against the concrete. 

you shouldn’t have been out in the cold weather. it was a fools february, the approach to spring should’ve brought warmer weather but instead it still felt like winter. the fact that you had to cheer in this weather outside was insane, but it was even more insane that your team chose to stand outside to do drugs. the sweats you threw on before jumping in karina’s car did nothing for you, the frigid night air piercing right through the material. your girls all thought the same, clumped together on the sidewalk like penguins. 

the team stayed together in a huddle the same way you guys did at games. the only difference that instead of pom poms your girls passed around a cigarette, a joint, and a small baggie of something you wouldn’t be taking. each time the cigarette was offered you shook your head. your team never pressured you to take anything but it was strange for you to be so straight edge. you tried it a long time ago like most people your age did when the chance arose. but every time you took a puff of anything it just didn’t feel right. you hid your avoidance of drugs and nicotine under the guise of strict parents, but you just didn’t have a taste for it.

you had been on the team long enough to see various teammates on their benders and tolerance breaks. it was like an involuntary D.A.R.E. program, seeing the effect drugs and alcohol had on your teammates. you remember seeing karina and ningning come to practice with shades on and they moved slowly the whole time. you also remember several people on your team being gone for periods of time. the reason was always a vacation, but you learned early on that was a code word for rehab. you never thought you were better than them, you had your own fair share of self destructive tendencies. 

when ryujin offered you her vape you shook head, nestling further into your varsity jacket. the jacket was bulky but still failed to keep you warm.

“you sure?” ryujin asks.

you nod and ryujin shrugs her shoulders before taking another hit. you’re confused how ryujin isn’t shivering from only wearing the teams hoodie. karina looks over from her spot in the cluster to ryujin and her vape.

“nobody wants a hit of that mango shit.” karina laughs.

she passed the cigarette to ningning. ningning laughs after taking a drag, fake passing it to ryujin.

“smoke a cigarette or joint like a real woman” ningning joked.

everyone in the huddle laughed, including ryujin. the smoke came out of her mouth in a cough, the joke catching in her throat. you laughed with your team too, loving the dynamic your team has set. nothing beat the bonding you had with your team outside of the house parties, away from the loud music where it was just you guys. you enjoyed this part more than the parties itself. another cold breeze runs through your group and you shake again. you loved your girls, but you felt like you were going to freeze to death if you stayed outside any longer. you were grateful to see the joint and cigarette gone and the baggie had disappeared too. soon you’d be back in the heat of shotaro’s place surrounded by warm bodies.

just as karina’s cigarette was coming to its end, a car pulled up to the curb. karina turned to face the car and the rest of the team followed her lead, looking to see who it was. you only had to take a single look before you knew, turning to face the huddle to try and hide your body.

eunseok in the driver’s seat came out first. he was followed by the back doors opening. anton, sohee, seunghan, and wonbin came out one by one, complaining about the lack of room. sungchan came out last, opening the passenger side and trailing behind the group. 

“the guests of honor are here.” yunjin said mockingly.

yunjin put out her cigarette on the concrete while the rest of the team made sounds of acknowledgement. 

your team tried their best to seem annoyed by the soccer team, but everyone knew it was a facade. just like in all the highschool movies, a majority of the cheerleading team had something with a majority of the soccer team. there was even some overlap in some cases—although this was vehemently denied by both parties. you were sure members of your team were currently secretly seeing boys on the soccer team. you saw the quick looks minjeong and wonbin exchanged, or how anton tried his best to talk to yunjin. their fling from two summers ago still shook you to your core when you thought about it.

to your knowledge, you were the last one on your team that had avoided being woo’ed by the players on the soccer team. it was definitely hard, especially because it was sungchan that had caught your attention. he was the dependable captain of the team, leading them through a flawless season. each time they put him on the field he won, eventually making him the youngest captain they’ve ever had. sungchan succeeded off the field too, involved in the top ten percent of his class. it was almost unfair how perfect he was, but it was even more unfair that you had to pretend like you didn’t want him.

sungchan’s attention went to you first. you could feel his eyes burning holes through your varsity jacket, waiting for you to turn around and acknowledge him. you caught him just in the last moment, seeing him clear shotaro’s cement steps with one lunge. the other boys made it much more obvious that they were trying to catch the cheerleaders attention, some of them even stopping to talk to your group.

“do you have another?” eunseok asked, pointing to karina’s cigarette.

“not for you.” karina said.

the cheerleaders laughed and karina gave eunseok a smirk before dropping the cigarette to the curb to stomp it out. eunseok smiled back at karina, hands tucked into his letterman jacket. you knew that eunseok was even more straight edge than you and was just searching for an excuse to speak to karina. you looked between the two of them, the tension so thick you felt like you were intruding on a personal moment. 

you turned your head to follow sungchan, watching him walk to the door of shotaro’s house. you saw him hug his best friend before following him inside, disappearing behind the closed front door. you suddenly really wanted to go back inside. you shifted on your heels and made eye contact with ryujin, the only one of your teammates that wasn’t chatting with one of the soccer players. you and ryujin both flicked your heads towards shotaro’s door at the same time.

ryujin nods and slips her vape into her sweatpants pocket, walking through the huddle of your distracted teammates. you two don’t even bother telling your team where you are going, the words would be drowned out in the conversations and intense stares. 

you and ryujin giggle about your team while walking through the lawn. you walk quickly through the trimmed grass, trying to get out of the cold as quick as possible.

“they pretend like they hate those boys until they come around.” ryujin says.

“to be fair, you’re the same way with chaeryeong.” you say.

ryujin is quiet for a moment and you think you might’ve struck a nerve. chaeryeong and ryujin have had an on-again-off-again relationship for as long as you can remember. one day they’re madly in love the next they can’t stand eachother. you had lost track of where they were at now, but you were sure it was off currently because ryujin hated coming to parties alone. you’re lucky ryujin found the humor in your comment, her vaporized laugh coming out in a cloud as she shook her head. 

”you got me there,” ryujin pauses on the porch and you stop with her. you see her take out her vape again and you fight the urge to ask her to smoke inside. “i think she’s here at the party tonight.” ryujin said.

ryujin takes a hit of her vape before she looks at you. she eyes you up and down before smirking and blowing out the smoke into the night.

“what about you, huh?” ryujin asks.

her smile only intensifies seeing you suddenly avoid her eye contact, looking past ryujin to focus on shotaro’s trimmed hedges.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say shyly.

ryujin tsks and pokes your chest, bringing your attention back to her.

“don’t act like the team doesn’t see it.” ryujin takes another pull from her vape. “you and the captain song kang—”

“sungchan.” you correct.

ryujin gives you a straight-faced expression.

“that’s what i said.” ryujin says.

you nod your head, not in the mood to start an argument with ryujin. she shrugs her shoulder and looks for her next words.

“anyways. i see how you two look at eachother. you just need to get it over with already.” ryujin says. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say coyly.

“you don’t know shit apparently. you don’t do drugs and you don’t fuck, i don’t know why you’re a cheerleader.” ryujin remarks.

you look at ryujin and crack a smile, ryujin does the same. a second later you are both laughing, so hard that your chests hurt. ryujin almost chokes on her laughs and you hit her back, all while still laughing.

when you both gather your senses and the tears are wiped, ryujin looks at you expectantly. you realize she hasn’t let the topic go, you sigh heavily and look down at your feet. your pristine white shoes have dirt stains on them now.

“i just don’t want to be one of those stereotypes you know. and i know that the soccer team fools around.” you say casually.

ryujin understands what you mean, tilting her head and nodding as she recalls all the instances of the cheerleading team and the soccer team mingling.

“i understand where you’re coming from i really do. but don’t you want to try it? just once?” ryujin asks.

you can’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about it. you felt the stares from sungchan, when he’d walk past you to go on the field or when you’d cheer for him on the sidelines. you had moments of your own, eyeing sungchan while he was at practice, admiring the way he commanded his team and how much they respected him. you had moments less innocent too, mainly during the practices that were held during the summer. sungchan had a body that made you dizzy, six pack and toned body brought from being a multidisciplinary athlete. you started finding reasons to walk by the gym in your school, just to see sungchan weight training with his teammates. 

so in reality you thought about it a little too much. you just shrug your shoulders and ryujin copies you, laughing at how bad you are at hiding everything.

“let’s go inside.” ryujin says.

“thank god.” you exclaim.

ryujin laughs at you as she heads to the front door, opening it with quickly.

the party inside is very different from the small sparse groups that hang out outside. the party rages inside of shotaro’s place, music being drowned out by endless chatter. you’re nearly shoulder to shoulder with your classmates, many of them you did not see at the soccer game. anything for an excuse to party. it’s never been quite to this extent before, it seems like the whole entire student body is crammed in shotaro’s house. ryujin taps your shoulder and points up the stairs. you see shotaro on the landing, scanning the crowd below him over and over again. you see sungchan next to him with a bear in his hand, leaning over the railing. him and shotaro are talking to eachother but both seem preoccupied, shotaro watching the party and sungchan watching you. you feel you body suddenly get hotter, and ryujin looks to you and sungchan before laughing.

“you two are ridiculous.” ryujin says.

you see shotaro follow a drunk couple as they try for an unlocked door, and you see sungchan make his way down the stairs. ryujin stopped paying attention to sungchan a long time ago, her eyes now fixed on chaeryeong who’s getting chatted up by someone at the bar. ryujin doesn’t tell you goodbye before heading towards her girlfriend, leaving you all alone. you can’t come up with an excuse to leave when sungchan approaches you, just you and him in the middle of this house party.

“good job cheering today.” sungchan says awkwardly. 

the beer in his hand has barely been sipped on, you think it might just be there for show. you nod you head and look up at him, trying to figure out what to say.

“good job playing.” you say back.

sungchan nods and rocks back on his feet. why is it suddenly so awkward when other people aren’t around? you and sungchan managed to keep it friendly when your two teams would interact, but now he stood by you and you felt your face heating up and silently begging ryujin to come and save you. 

just as you were looking to see where your friend went, someone coming down from the stairs loses their balance and bumps into you. it sudden and catches you off guard, almost causing you to fall onto sungchan. he holds you upright with just one hand, scowling at the person who bumped into you until they apologize. you turn to stare at the person too until they disappear into the crowd again.

“you alright?” sungchan asks.

he looks genuinely worried as he continues to rub your shoulder. it was nothing more than a bump, the grip he has on you arguably did more damage than the person who fell into you. but you brush it off, there’s no reason to be mad over an accident.

“yeah. i just kind of hate parties.” you say.

“me too.” you look up and see sungchan take a tiny sip of his beer. he hesitates for a moment before leaning down to look at you. “do you want to go somewhere quiet?” he asks.

you can’t stop your eyes from widening at his bold request. you do want to go somewhere quiet but that doesn’t always mean you should. but you think about your conversation outside with ryujin and the conversations your team are still having with the soccer team outside. you’re sure at this point everyone in your life has had their fun except for you. maybe falling into a stereotype won’t be the end of the world. you point to the beer in sungchan’s hand and he gives it to you. you take a sip and it’s better than you thought it would be.

“yeah. let’s go.” you say smiling.

sungchan looks a little surprised himself, pointing up the stairs. he lets you go in front so he can lead you through the crowd, a hand between your two shoulder blades. on your way up the stairs you make eye contact with ryujin who is chatting up chaeryeong. ryujin’s eyes widen when she sees sungchan and elbows chaeryeong so she can see it too. the two give you a thumbs up seeing sungchan follow closely behind you and you try to seem unbothered, failing to hide your big smile.

once you and sungchan make it to the landing he still leads you further down the hallway. you pass by the bathroom, having to squeeze past the line that has formed and pass another door. sungchan knocks on the door and presses his ear to it to see if he can hear anything. a moment later he opens it for you and you walk in.

you can tell instantly that you’re in shotaro’s room. his desk lamp is the only thing that illuminates the space, giving you just enough vision to navigate. his room is clean, with a made bed and no visible messes. you focus on everything else in the room before you turn to sungchan, who has placed his beer on shotaro’s desk.

“is it okay that we are in here?” you ask.

the last thing you need is for shotaro to interrupt you.

“yeah, it’s cool.” sungchan says.

sungchan navigates the room like he’s been here before. you wonder if he has been in this situation with other girls before, sneaking them away during a party to fuck them in his bestfriends room. you try to not think about it too much, if sungchan is using you than you are also using him. the way he is acting around you makes you wonder if he’s done this before. sungchan is almost too afraid to approach you, still standing by the door. his hands are tucked into the pocket of his jeans, and his leather jacket hangs loosely on his body. you want to ask sungchan why he doesn’t wear his varsity jacket like his teammates do, only putting it on on game days. he always chose the black leather jacket first, but you weren’t complaining.

“we don’t have to do anything.” sungchan still stands in the door. “i just wanted to be alone with you.” he says.

sungchan doesn’t know why he tried so hard to get you alone. he doesn’t know why he approached you in the first place. you have been just out of sungchan’s reach for as long as he has known you. the introverted backspot of the team, the hidden member that kept everyone safe. he admired the way you always caught the flyer, or how you called out whatever formation you were going to do. karina was the leader but the show couldn’t be ran without you. 

sungchan wanted to tell you this so many times, but you always kept yourself hidden amongst your girls. sungchan admits that he could’ve came up to you at anytime, but there was something holding him back. maybe the embarrassment of being rejected. he didn’t know how to perceive the looks you gave him, you were elusive to sungchan like an urban myth. sungchan had heard the locker room stories exchanged by his teammates. talks of you being pursued were shut down immediately by sungchan, for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint. he could live with just stealing glances of you at games and at school, but he could absolutely not live with the idea of you being hit on by his teammates.

“what if i want to do something?” you said.

sungchan tore his eyes from the floor to look at you. sungchan felt like he understood you even less, the way your demeanor suddenly changed. sungchan watched you take off your varsity jacket and throw it on shotaro’s bed. sungchan watches your every move as you walk over to him. you hold out your hand and sungchan rips out his hand to put his hands in the palm of your hands. 

sungchan is still trying to figure out what is happening when you look up at him. he sees your lidded eyes, the way you bite your lip and grip his hand a little tighter. he hopes you’re nervous too, it might make him feel better about the way his heart beats in his chest.

“this is just a one time thing.” you say.

his mouth is dry when he nods his head. for the first time of the night, it’s you leading sungchan when you grab his hand and lightly pull him. sungchan feels like his feet are glued to the floor until you pull him again. he lets you guide him to the trunk that sits at the foot of shotaro’s bed. 

sungchan sits on the trunk and watches as you kick off your shoes, followed by your sweatpants and panties. it leaves you in just your cheer skirt and socks. he scoots back on the trunk slightly to give you more room. sungchan loves feeling your hands go to his shoulders as you climb on top of him, sitting on his lap.

”i know how you soccer players get down.” you say.

“oh yeah?” sungchan’s large hands on your knees ran up your leg until he makes it to the end of your skirt. he’s hesitant, half expecting you to change your mind. he needs to hear your voice, he wishes he could get you to tell him what to do. “tell me how do we get down?”

sungchan seemed preoccupied, fiddling with the end of your skirt as you sit on his lap. he keeps fanning the end of it out to let the material naturally splay out against his thigh. his hand presses the fabric into his denim, loving the way they look side by side.

sungchan lets his hands travel up the end of your skirt until he makes it to your waist. he lets them rest there only for a moment before experimentally pressing his fingers into your skin. he looks up to you when he has a hold on you he’s satisfied with.

your hands that rest on his shoulders pinch the fabric of his white tee. you try not to arch your back to sungchan to seem so desperate, but its like your chests are connected by a tightening string. your breasts are so close to touching sungchan’s chest it makes you sigh.

“my team tells me all the stories.” you say absentmindedly.

sungchan nods his head like he’s listening before he brings you down on his lap. you pull in a quick and small breath when you feel his dick straining through his jeans, pressing into your clothed heat. the only thing that separates him from you is the thin crotch of your cheer skirt. sungchan has a smirk on his face, happy he has an effect on you.

“what stories?” sungchan asks innocently.

you suddenly can’t think of anything when sungchan’s hands start moving your hips to lightly grind against his length. it’s gentle and slow, but you can feel the way he twitches against you. the sensation is intoxicating to say the least. you actively have to go through memories of group facetime calls and text messages to pull up an example. each time you have it sungchan presses you a down a little harder, forcing you to repeat the process in your mind.

“hooking up. sharing girls, you know.” you say. 

“mhm.” sungchan hums.

your words are hesitant and drawn out when you feel a new sensation against you. sungchan bites his bottom lip when he creeps his hand underneath the waistband of your mini skirt. 

he has to adjust his hand once he makes it inside your skirt, lifting his arm to push his hand into the gap. you gasp when he finds your clit and sungchan lets out a tiny sound himself.

“i’m not a fan of hookups,” sungchan wedges his hand into your skirt further, and smiles when he can feel your arousal on the tips of his fingers. “definitely not a fan sharing.” sungchan says.

you let out a hmph in denial and sungchan tilts his head. his hooded eyes light up from you indirectly saying he’s a liar. even when he has you in such a compromising position you are still defiant, holding onto whatever typecast you assigned him to. for a moment sungchan debates commenting on the sound you made. but he knows for a fact it will lead to an argument that could potentially lead to him being alone in shotaro’s room with a raging boner. so sungchan opts to lightly press the pads of his fingers to your slit—he can talk to you about his standpoint on dating later.

sungchan loves the way you lean your head back and arch your body into him without him even having to penetrate you. his hand on your hip also becomes useless, you starting rotating your hips and pressing yourself into his dick all on your own. sungchan moves his hand to your back to give you stability, egging you on to become more reckless with your hips.

“you’re so beautiful.” sungchan says. 

“so are you.” you say.

sungchan laughs at how fast you respond too him, letting anything you think of fall from your lips. he pulls back from you only for a moment to discard himself of his shirt, loving the way your eyes rake down his upper body. he doesn’t move to help you with yours until your hands start messing with the bottom hem of your tee. sungchan is distracted by your chest, sucking on the top of your breast that isn’t covered by your bra. you lift yourself up and sungchan tries his best to unclasp your bra but his shaking hands fail him multiple times and your moans distract him. 

“can you cum just from this?” sungchan asks in amazement.

“i think so,” you look up from where your hips meet to look sungchan in his eyes. he looks up a beat later than you, his eyes wide from dismay. “can you?” you ask.

sungchan looks down again at your bare pussy and his dick. the crotch covering of your skirt has been pushed away by sungchan long ago, letting him see all of you. even in shotaro’s dimly lit room he can see how its glistening from your slick. he didn’t know a sight like this existed outside of the scripted scenes of shitty pornos. but here sungchan was, sitting on a trunk in his friends room getting high off of grinding on your labia like he’s never been intimate with someone before. sungchan nods his head, tightening his hand that holds your body.

“i think so.” sungchan responds.

you nod your head and change the way you move your hips. you spread your legs a little wider, and sungchan moves his hand on your inner thigh to the other side, pressing your thighs together. you fight against his hand just to see if he will do next. you’ve heard tales of the head pushers on the soccer team, and you want to see where sungchan falls on the spectrum. you see the competition in his eyes when you push back against his hand, but a second later sungchan gives in, letting you control how far open your legs are. you smile at sungchan before collapsing your thighs, moving them so close that your knees touch. the angle is awkward and a little painful, but the way sungchan gasps and tilts his head back makes you ignore the discomfort.

you end up becoming perched on sungchan’s legs, and you can feel them hardening underneath you to give you stability.

“thanks.” you say meekly. 

you can feel your face getting hot at your sudden gratitude. sungchan only smiles in acknowledgment, tilting your face up to peck your lips.

“so cute.” sungchan says.

the plush skin of your thighs surround sungchan’s length. he looks down to see his tip peaking out from in between your thighs. he loves seeing the way your thighs give around his hard dick perfectly and the way they jiggle when sungchan thrusts upwards. your whole body moves in tandem with his thrusts. your breasts bounce each time sungchan pulls in and the desperate sound of your skin making contact has you digging your hands into sungchan’s triceps. the pain doesn’t hurt sungchan, only causes him to flex harder and rut between your hips harder.

you have to move a hand from sungchan’s tricep to his shoulder to gain more stability. he’s slowly losing himself in front of your eyes, becoming hastier with his hips. suddenly sungchan gets ahold of himself, looking at you for approval.

“is this enough for you?” sungchan asks.

you let sungchan bring you closer and closer to him, until your chests touch and his dick fits in the space where your thighs meet your hips. his dick is covered by your skirt now, and you waste no time folding the fabric so your can see all of him.

“fuck.” sungchan says. 

each time sungchan thrusts upwards he bumps your clit, causing you to jolt forward. sungchan brings his hands down to press your ass as he backs up on the trunk he’s sitting on. the new amount of space lets you change your position to one more comfortable. you are completely seated on sungchan’s lap as he thrusts upwards, dick stuffed between your folds. 

“oh my god.” you cried. 

sungchan brought one hand from your ass to your clit, slightly lifting you upwards as he moves you. sungchan’s strength when it comes to handling you makes you feel small in the best way, and his athleticism shines through his stamina. you have to stop yourself from asking sungchan to forget about the condom and to just fuck you on his friend’s bed. but the school year just started, you will have plenty of time to properly fuck sungchan. or to have him fuck you. whichever works. 

he’s able to satiate you by spitting on his fingers before bringing it down to your clit, stimulating your bundle of nerves quickly. sungchan stops focusing on thrusting to rotate his fingers on you. he’s so close to being inside of you that you seize around nothing. sungchan presses on your ass and pouts. you close your eyes from the euphoria.

“i can feel you clenching around nothing, baby.” sungchan coos.

you can’t speak anymore, only nod your head and whine when sungchan starts rotating his hand the other way. sungchan kisses your eyelids and you open them. he stares at you intensely and picks up the speed.

“next time can i fuck you?” sungchan asks.

you nod your head. you start lifting your hips and pulling away slightly, the stimulation becoming too much.

“say it.” sungchan says. 

you lock your arm behind sungchans head to pull him closer to you. something about sungchan having to look up to you made you think you were playing the dominant role, but with a simple order you feel yourself folding to become submissive for him. it makes your head spin the way sungchan teases you by pressing into your clit harder.

“yes.” you whine.

sungchan is amused by the way your hips jerk pitifully when he presses a little harder. 

“yes what?” sungchan asks.

he lowers his head further to press his lips to your collarbone. his teeth grazes the sensitive skin and you preen your neck to give him more access.

“yes. you can—oh my god. yes you can fuck me.” you cry.

your mini skirt falls back down over sungchan’s hand and you both look at it. the way sungchan’s hand aggressively moves underneath the splay of your skirt, the tiny wet spot his leaking tip leaves. you lean forward into the crook of sungchan’s neck, whining just for him to hear. his arm that wraps around your back grips your side, so hard you know it’ll leave a bruise.

the view of your ruined mini skirt gives sungchan the vigor to start thrusting upwards again. it’s easier with the hold you have on him, and he grunts into your ear with each rut. sungchan looks forward to the next time it’s just you and him alone in private. it would only come after he takes you on a nice date and asks you to be his girlfriend, of course—he’s a gentleman. but for now he will selfishly chase his pleasure after he makes sure you cum.

“sungchan.” you cry into his ear.

“i know. i know.” sungchan sympathizes.

your nails dig into his skin and your whines hit an octave that they barely make a sound anymore, just leaving you with a slightly open mouth and a heaving chest. sungchan decided then and there that he needs to hear that sound everyday for the rest of his life. 

you can’t even finish telling sungchan you’re going to cum when it happens, your body shaking in his hold. sungchan follows closely behind you, your cum giving his dick more lubrication to slip between your folds. his tip pokes one more time through your hips when your supple skin ripples around him. sungchan quickly lifts your cheer skirt so you can see what you do to him. 

“fuck” sungchan curses.

you pull your body from his just in time. sungchan’s cum gets on your thighs and dribbles down the middle, getting onto his thighs. he continues to curse and moan, hips stilling as his grip on your side tightens. the euphoric view of him below you has you almost ready to go again. you start squeezing your thighs around his length, and you bring your hand to massage his sticky tip. sungchan has to shake his head and hold your wrist to stop you, too sensitive to be touched. 

when sungchan comes down he has to let out a big huff of air, realizing he came from not even being inside of you. he also realizes that he made a complete mess of your thighs, and he still has a death grip on your cheer skirt to keep it from getting stained.

“holy shit my bad,” sungchan loosens his grip on your cheer skirt, putting the wrinkled fabric in your hand. “hold this let me get you something.”

sungchan guides you to sit on the trunk while he gets up. he wastes no time tucking himself back into his underwear and jeans, not caring about the droplets of cum on himself. he looks around shotaro’s room for anything to wipe you with. sungchan ends up grabbing. damp towel hanging on the back of shotaro’s chair.

while sungchan cleans you up you focus on the top of his head. now that the moment is over it is awkward, you don’t know what to say when sungchan is done with wiping your skin. he doesn’t know either, looking at your closed thighs and the mini skirt you have clutched in your hand.

“did i get it all?” sungchan asks.

when he looks up at you his ears burn a bright red, and you have to quickly look away. you suddenly can’t look at sungchan in the face, focusing on random things in shotaro’s room. you look at handle of his closet when you nod your head yes.

“okay. good.” sungchan says awkwardly. 

he grabs your panties and sweatpants off the ground and helps you into them, guiding your feet through the openings. you don’t know why you feel like you’re drained of all your energy, you think actual sex with sungchan would put you into a coma. the way he is extremely gentle when putting your sweatpants back on you makes your heart want to explode in your chest. somehow this is more intimate than when he was fucking himself between your thighs. 

when sungchan pulls you up from the trunk it takes a moment to regain stability in your legs. they feel like jello underneath you and you wobble for a second. when you’re upright sungchan does the same with your bra and shirt, helping you into the garments. your shirt smells like him now, and you keep catching whiffs of the smoky vanilla fragrance sungchan wears. he holds onto you until you give him a quick smile that lets you know you’re alright. you hate that he lets go a little too fast, hands clenched at his side. 

“should we talk—”

sungchan can’t finish his sentence before ryujin slams open the door. it startles you both, pulling you from the very important conversation you two were about to have. ryujin’s expression is serious as she looks past you and out shotaro’s window. you turn and can hear the familiar sound of police sirens and the blue and red lights flashing. ryujin looks back to you, not sparing sungchan a second glance.

“shotaro’s stupid fucking neighbors called the cops. we gotta go.” ryujin says.

you grab your varsity jacket from the edge of shotaro’s bed and look at sungchan one last time. he opens his mouth but nothing comes out. you stand there for a moment, not heading towards the door.

“karina is already waiting outside. come on.” ryujin says.

you reluctantly pull yourself away from sungchan and head towards the door. when you get to ryujin in the doorway you look her up and down. she looks more mussed than you, her sweatshirt inside out with lipstick stains around her lips.

“how’d you know i was here?” you ask.

“lucky guess,” ryujin finally looks to sungchan, who stands in the same place you left him. “bye sungchan.” ryujin says in a singsongy voice.

sungchan doesn’t even get the chance to say bye back before ryujin slams open the door. he can hear you two and the rest of the party running around, trying to evacuate shotaro’s house as fast as possible. sungchan should also probably leave through the backdoor if he doesn’t want to get in trouble with the law tonight. but he can’t seem to move as he tries to comprehend what just happened.

[eggyrocks]

𖦹track sixteen: drunk voicemail𖦹

m.list

it's not a huge bar. it shouldn't be this difficult to find her.

but kuroo finds himself running in circles, sliding between clusters of drunk friends and dipping into the alleyway and recruiting whatever girls he can find to ask them to check bathrooms.

he keeps finding traces of her. a smoking cigarette bud half-heartedly stomped out on damp pavement. her named passed between her friends just after she slipped away from them. an empty can of her favorite beer with stains of her lip gloss abandoned at the bar.

traces of her, but not her.

he tried calling her, and is met with the slurred voice of nishinoya on the other line, who, despite standing just beside kuroo, yelled into the receiver that he was holding onto her phone for her.

for whatever reason.

kuroo's half-convinced she's avoiding him. and when he finally finds her, leaning up against the bar, trapped there by the delay in service with impatience laced in the details of her expression, he plans to ask.

"hey," kuroo greets, squeezing into the spot next to her, ignoring the disgruntled expressions of the person he slightly nudged out of the way. "having fun avoiding me?" he questions, keeping his tone light, trying not to sound like his feelings are as hurt as they are.

she shrugs, fingers tapping against the wooden bar top. "sort of. where'd your girlfriend go?" she asks, raising her voice slightly so it'll carry over the buzz of noises around them.

the word girlfriend echoes around in his head for a second. he thinks about the way word sounded coming from her lips: sharp, quick, spit out like it was bitter on her tongue. and then he can't help but smirk. he thinks that maybe he shouldn't, but he does. he smirks and he says to her, "oh my god, you're jealous," and the notion that she might've been makes his chest swell, makes his thoughts spin.

she lets out a bark of laughter at this, but turns her head slightly, eyes searching for the bartender to play off the heat in her cheeks. "your big head's gonna pop if you're not careful" she snarks, but still will not look up at him.

kuroo leans his forearm on the bartop and tilts his head down towards hers. "you don't have anything to be jealous of," he tells her in a low voice, "you got all my attention now."

"hurray for me," she replies dryly, and with a roll of her eyes. she keeps her nerves locked down, but kuroo picks up on the small things. the way she holds her breath when he inches closer, the way her eyes dance to avoid him, her tapping fingers freezing and curling up into a tight fist.

her gaze catches the bartender, and she orders another beer before looking up to kuroo. "you want a drink?" she offers.

"nah," he replies, leaning back on his heels and giving her a bit of distance. "i'm not drinking tonight."

she frowns up at him. "you're not?"

kuroo grins. "got an important date tomorrow morning. can't risk being hungover."

he catches the way her eyes dilate before she can turn away, leaning over the bar to pay.

taglist: @nnnyxie @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @localgaytrainwreck @macchiatomegumi @hikikaimar @noodleswastaken @garden-of-bri @rinaheartss @infinitelytimebound @scxrcherr @ahseyy @eyes-ofhell @sleepy-time @polish-cereal @literally-a-ferret @crownj1min @sereniteav @kozuskitten @02shuuu @rasisarchive @marzzn @barricadesenthusiast @yvjitadori @yeehawslap @phoenix-eclipses @wyrcan @rieieieieieiei @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @cherrypieyourface (please complete this form to be added)

[theladycarpathia]

Hellcheer Anniversary Week Day Two - Friday Night Football Game

Chrissy can feel the stares on her back in the locker room. She laces up her sneakers and ignores them. A few months ago, she would have cared. Maybe it’s his influence rubbing off on her. 

In a few months, this all won’t matter. In a few hours, this all won’t matter. 

“Alright,” she says, in as steady a voice as she can manage. She’s still captain after all. “Let’s go.”

They traipse out onto the field and wait for their entrance. The bleachers are busier than Chrissy expected - their basketball team is better so those games are always packed but apparently people still love football. 

There’s a harsh whisper behind her, a sudden giggle, and Chrissy swallows. These days she has a good instinct for when the laughter is about her. 

If they knew the truth, they’d understand. But they don’t. She’s been with Jason since middle school. She’s always had that title to match her other equally perfect ones. Chrissy Cunningham. Head Cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High. Prom Committee, Spring Fling Queen, Jason’s girl. 

Funny how without the perfect boyfriend that all of her other accolades meant nothing at all. How easily they branded her with a scarlet letter across her chest. 

Their coach signals them with her hand just as the band starts to play. Chrissy forces a bright smile onto her face and then they’re being pushed out onto the field. It almost feels too much, the bright lights, the noise, the stamping of feet on the bleachers. 

Sometimes Chrissy looks at her life and just hates it. 

There’s cheering as they bound out, shouting and waving their poms. For everyone else, this is fun, a Friday night football game. For Chrissy, it’s something meant to be endured. 

Especially as when she looks out across the crowd she sees the one face she had hoped wouldn’t be here. 

Jason’s in the stands, hands folded, looking right at her. She should have known. Even though he’s not on the team, he must have thought that this would be a place he could get her alone.

He hasn’t taken their break up quietly. He left her notes in her locker, flowers at her house. Got her mother involved, got her friends involved. Begged and pleaded for her not to throw her life away, as though that’s something he has a say in. 

He’s tried and failed during school hours. It’s easier to slip away from him, to hide behind teachers. And no matter what he says, he doesn’t dare try to talk to her near Eddie, not after last time. That had certainly ensured the entire school knew about it within a matter of days - Jason Carver and Eddie Munson fighting on school grounds over her. 

She’d had to get involved. She didn’t want Eddie to get suspended or expelled, not when they’re so close. She’s kept it all a secret - if anyone finds out that they’re leaving after graduation, her mother would have a fit. 

Jason’s smile pins her feet to the floor. He’s so sure of himself, like this is just a glitch in the eventual road to the white dress and chapel, the picket fence and modern suburbia that he has planned for them. But she’s not that girl anymore, if she ever was. 

“Can you imagine giving him up for the local freak?” someone snorts from behind her and this time there’s a louder cluster of giggles. Normally, Chrissy ignores it. Today she whirls around to face Marcy and the flicker of shock across her face is satisfaction enough. 

“Then you date him,” she snaps, grateful that the band is still too loud for anyone to hear them. “Now move!”

It goes to show how stunned they are that they all let her push them into their first routine without complaint. Chrissy just dances, letting the familiar moves wash everything away. She hates the pageantry of it all but she still loves this. Maybe she can still find a way to dance when they get to LA. 

She gets through the first dance and the second, the players arriving on the field. They have to perform at halftime and she wonders if she can just slip away after. If she gives Jason half a chance, he’ll follow her back to her car, insisting on driving home with her. And then she’ll be trapped at the dining room table, watching her mother quiz him about colleges and wanting to know why they ever broke up in the first place. 

At least she can take comfort in knowing that Jason would never tell Laura about Eddie. He’s not about to admit that his girlfriend of nearly five years left him for someone like Eddie Munson. 

They have to wait on the sidelines once the game starts and Chrissy stands as far away from Jason as possible. Not that it matters - Jason pushes himself up, like he means to climb across the seats to get to her. 

So when someone reaches out with a hand to grab her elbow she shrieks, and the sound is lost amongst the roar of the crowd. 

“Eddie!” she gasps and lets him swing her up into his arms. If the brawl in the cafeteria didn’t confirm their relationship this certainly will and she finds she truly doesn’t care. 

“A little birdie told me,” Eddie says and gently puts her down. “That there may be an unwanted guest attending the game this evening.”

Chrissy turns and sure enough, Jason is frozen in place, lip curled up in disgust as he looks at Eddie. No, looks at Eddie’s hand still wrapped around her waist. 

“You heard right,” she says and her voice wobbles a little. Eddie never even goes to pep rallies and he came to a game, just for her. 

“So this is football,” he says, looking over her head at the field. He wrinkles his nose a little at the players, the green and orange uniforms. “It’s…what I expected.”

“What was that?” she asks, leaning into his chest just a little. He smells of smoke and cinnamon, and something woodsy, like the inside of a guitar. 

“A glorified game of fetch,” he says bluntly. “I’m glad I got to see you do your thing though.” He mimes waving poms again and she stifles a laugh.

She doesn't remember laughing with Jason much.

"You coming over this evening?" Eddie asks, dropping his arms.

"Yeah," she says, because she's started spending what nights she can get away with Eddie. "If Wayne doesn't mind."

"He never minds," Eddie says easily and even though he should look out of place in his Hellfire t-shirt and boots, he really looks like he doesn't care. She wants to be like that too, unbothered by anyone else's thoughts of her. "I think he likes you better than me at times."

Chrissy ignores the almost palpable aura of hostility from her fellow cheerleaders and leans up to kiss his cheek. Everyone already knows - she may as well embrace starting her Senior year off with a little bit of scandal. Start as you mean to go on.

“A few more months,” he says, resting his cheek on her head. “Then we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy echoes, and the crowd suddenly roars. She must have missed the team scoring a goal. “Then we’re out.”

“You okay?” Eddie asks suddenly, tugging on the end of her ponytail. Jason appears to have slunk back to his seat. He’s clearly not willing to risk another fight, especially when Chrissy looks far from being held against her will. 

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, feeling safe for the first time all night. “I am now.”

@hellcheeranniversaryweek

Not 100% on the ending but I ran out of time. I love the 'Chrissy would have left Jason for Eddie' thing that Grace said and I want more fics about it.

[slowd1ving]

III. THE CONCEPT OF FRIENDSHIP .・゜DAN HENG

One of the theories pushed forward in this universe—a common conjecture between scientists throughout the stars—is that there are disturbances in a system that is being observed, versus one that is not. This is astutely named the observer effect. And this situation is the first proper example he’s seen of that. Dan Heng feels that as soon as he takes his eyes off you, you’ll phase back to a space between these dimensions, like some specter there are only myths about. when data nerd Dan Heng finds the forbidden dictionary and masters the hidden art: synonyms male! engineer reader warnings: eventual nsfw, kind of but not really spoilers to dan heng's backstory, amab reader

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

DRINKER OF THE MOON, DEVOURER OF DREAMS MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

PREVIOUS PART . 　⁺ NEXT PART

Friendship. The definition provided by the Standard IPC Dictionary of the True Universal Language (TUL) Dialect describes it as a strong interpersonal bond in which involved parties have a relationship of mutual trust and affection with each other. He knows it well. 

The book was logged in approximately a month ago, and it has been accessed recently once more. 

He looked it up first out of boredom—the definition had stood out when he skimmed through, looking at various slang and wondering whether he could finally put meaning to your long strings of curses. 

“I think you’re the only friend he has apart from me, Pom-Pom and Welt,” Himeko had told him once: a simple additive after her lively discussion on the current politics of the Palosia-VI strata in the Palosian cluster. 

“I see.” His reply was bland and blunt, just like him. 

Mutual trust and affection. He looked it up again, just to make sure he hadn’t hallucinated the first occasion he’d looked at it. 

He supposed he hasn’t—which is why he’s mystified when he recalls her words. 

Mutual trust. He doesn’t trust you. You don’t trust him. No, maybe there is some element of ‘trust’; there’s simply nothing below the dermis. It’s like comparing a breathing, living human to a mannequin. It’s a deplorable imitation. 

He’ll be leaving soon enough anyway. That trust will never come to fruition. 

Mutual affection. He supposes that yes, in its own twisted way, affection has been borne. Nightmare after nightmare has reduced him to a shell, and the feeling of someone caring— whether it be through tossed clothing and a cold glass of water—is something that does feel like affection. There was that one night, and it was anomalous in every shape and form—but in some way, that was ‘affection’ too.

Except, not really. 

He’s seen the look in your eyes as you gaze at your machines. It’s not adoration, or anything close to it. It’s akin to understanding, one that almost extends to your eyes when you talk to Mr. Yang, and sometimes Himeko. He supposes you’re a lot more affectionate with your creations. 

When you look at him, there’s simply that dispassionate neutrality, as though your projects were breathing humans and he was just some scrap metal. 

He laughs bitterly. 

You make it so easy to consider stepping off the train and into the void; yet, at the same time, you’re the biggest obstacle in preventing him.

And as luck would have it, he’s given the opportunity to help deepen his understanding of you, just near the three month mark of his stay. 

“We’re nearing the Argo cluster,” Himeko starts off the day, which is rare as she doesn’t tend to speak before she’s at least drunk half her coffee. 

Well, this is an extraordinary conversation, if he takes the time to calculate the probability of you appearing in the past fifty-eight days (one-point-seven percent). Of all days, you chose to seat yourself at the breakfast table, next to Mr. Yang. That seat is opposite Dan Heng’s. 

You glance at him briefly, and for once it’s him avoiding your eyes. 

“I do believe I should be sent to Argo-II to safeguard any contingencies for the bronze negotiations.”

Not Himeko? The question is obvious in Dan Heng’s eyes as he tries to surreptitiously stare at first the person in question, then Mr. Yang. 

“Well, I’d normally go, but there needs to be at least one person on the Express when we visit various planets,” she explains. It makes sense. Her words ring out logically. They do. They should, but suddenly they don’t, and she’s mystified him once more. 

At least one person implies that all persons—save Pom-Pom and Himeko–will be embarking on this mission. 

All persons. That definition includes you.  

You blink innocently at him.

“You and him are going to Argo-I.” 

What?  

He’s not just mystified. He’s baffled, he’s confounded, he’s every synonym of confused. Both you and Pom-Pom are constants with each mission; neither of you ever leave this train. Even Himeko occasionally joins either him, Mr. Yang, or both of them when they visit another planet together. He’s gotten the impression that you’ll never leave this train until you’re old and grey. 

“What’s our mission, then?” Dan Heng instead chooses to ask. 

“You’ll see.” She’s got a tight-lipped, cryptic smile when she speaks, and yours isn’t much better. 

He sighs.

Ultimately, he gives up. He gives up trying to figure you out when you’re packing literally hours before the scheduled departure (at three system hours, the time you’re supposed to be in the kitchen). You cut the conversation short early, excusing yourself to do something you should’ve been doing sooner. 

Despite your usual lethargy, there’s a certain nervous, jittery anticipation to you as you breathe quicker than usual. And even though you try hide it, each careful step onto Argo-I betrays the complex feelings you have towards this place. 

But as he mentioned previously, he’s given up in figuring out what lies beneath the painted statue. 

This isn’t the first time something hasn’t gone to plan, after all. 

Especially now. 

It’s still the first day. It either slipped his mind, or perhaps he simply heard wrong—he focused on Argo and not the distinction between the two, planet-sized ships (according to the Handbook on the Mitaras Nebulae, the Argo cluster is distinctly considered a cluster of planets with spaceship qualities—he’s not entirely sure what that means, but he’s sticking to both concepts).

That’s not relevant. 

He just assumed Mr. Yang would be there as well. Not just the two of you. 

Aeons, it’s never felt more surreal to experience you talking to him while the artificial sun shines and it’s daytime. 

Well, you’re not exactly talking right now. You’re racing on the streets on a motorbike, and he’s sitting right behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. 

He can feel his jagged pulse as it spikes with adrenaline, each brush of air against his body—it snarls his jacket and allows it to billow in the wind. He’s been on starskiffs before, but this is so entirely different. 

It smells like you: the motor oil, the metal, the roughness of it all. Here, he can feel each bump of the road as you navigate your way with an ease that almost takes his breath away. 

Is this where you’re from?

You take him past towering skyscrapers, through grey landscapes with nothing but endless roads in sight, past foliage and cliffs and cities and small towns, until you finally arrive at your destination. 

Behind the two of you is the setting sun and the vast metropolis gleaming with lights. Before the two of you is the spreading ocean, swallowing the last lights of ‘day’.

“The Argo-II is renowned for its sophisticated bronze architecture and cities,” you begin, slow and soft to match the pace of this evening. Dan Heng doesn’t reply, instead trying to read your wistful gaze.

This isn’t the gaze of someone looking at their home. 

“It’s beautiful,” you continue. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard that sort of turmoil within your vocal chords—like they’ve been stretched thin with tension. “I would’ve told you to go with Mr.Yang, since I come here alone usually when we’re near the Argo; this city isn’t as technologically advanced, or as clean. There’s remnants of air pollution, after all.”

There’s a million questions he could ask. He could ask, but he doesn’t. 

“It’s a breathing mechanical metropolis, coexisting with what remains of nature. Industrialisation has led to less death, more resources—yet it slowly kills the planet over a few centuries in return. In fact, that’s the reason there's more people migrating to Argo-II.”

You speak like you know this reality well. 

“There’s no mission here. I just take a week to let go of shitty memories in a shitty time period.”

Your smile is strained. 

It’s the first time he’s seen you vulnerable like this. 

“Ah, forget it,” you sigh. “I’m sorry Himeko dumped you with me.”

He can’t recognise you at this moment. It’s metamorphosis; you’ve shed your marble exoskeleton and become something else. 

“No,” he finds himself blurting out. “I don’t mind spending time with you.”

He’s blunt with it—always has been. 

It’s the first time your eyes meet his own tonight. 

Mutual trust. 

He thinks he’s getting closer to that overwhelming precipice. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

It’s the second night on Argo-I that he learns your definition of relaxation. 

The hotel you found was in the heart of the bustling city; right next to the beating metal heart. Steel skyscrapers and office buildings rose in the metropolis, and despite how bleak it looked during the day, he thought it looked rather pretty at night. 

You and him have separate rooms, and there’s no shared communal space on your floor. 

For once, there is no meeting at three system hours. 

He wakes up panting, then wears himself out by whirling Cloud Piercer in short, precise drills that leave him dizzier and dizzier. Though his sleep at four is filled with similar nightmares, he can’t bring himself to knock on room 137. And so it repeats, until he finally wears himself enough to have dreamless, restless slumber. 

Dan Heng stumbles out of his room at roughly eleven system hours. And when you inevitably encounter him in that hallway— like fate— your eyes can’t help but flicker to the dark circles under his eyes. 

“More nightmares?” Affirmative. He nods yes, and you exhale wryly. 

“Is that so…” you trail off, and once again he is reminded that some things never change. The roll of your eyes as you mull over a problem. The tilt of your head as you fix the stiff joints in your neck. The slouch of your shoulders as you lean against the wall. 

“Actually, there is one thing that helps me through tough nights here,” you laugh. It’s a strange mixture of self-depreciation and bitterness. 

There it is. That vulnerability.

“What?” It’s a little desperate, but he’s long stopped caring. 

“There’s a specific booze sold in the bars and clubs of this city.” You speak like you haven’t forgotten up until now. You speak as though you know of the drink full well. It’s a nostalgic sort of hum, one that makes him glance at you anew all over. 

“People turn to vice in hopeless situations. For those stuck in poverty, for those who have nowhere to go, for those longing for just one sweet dream—drink and gambling go together.” It’s a tired anecdote. 

What is the hopeless situation like for you, then?

“Argo-I is no exception,” you murmur, brushing a stray piece of lint from his jacket. The proximity makes him swallow. “Tonight, we’ll drink the devourer of dreams.”

“What does it do?” he breathes, careful not to disturb your fluttering hands as they quickly fix his collar too. 

“What else?” 

Gentle dust motes float in the warm air, backlit by the rays of the artificial sun. 

“Your dreams will be fully lucid.” You step back. “You’ll get rid of your nightmares for a night.” You place your hand on your doorknob. “All for the price of a glass or two.”

Finally, you pause. 

“I’ve got a few of my engineering society contacts to meet today while I’m here,” you inform him. “Be here before 22 hours and dressed in something—” you eye his clothes, briefly contemplating his gear. “—suitable for going out.”

It’s hard to take you seriously while you’re sporting the baggiest clothes to man, but he finds himself nodding in agreement regardless. 

You leave, and he takes the chance to wander around aimlessly. 

It’s not entirely unpleasant, but the pulse of the metropolis feels diluted without you there to breathe life into it. 

Though the blistering sun beats down, you could hardly tell it was daytime at all with the dark clouds that seem to permanently linger across the firmament. There’s a odour that grows stronger as he passes the alleyways; trash overflows, there’s dried gum and plastic littering the grey pavements, and the trees that have been planted aren’t as vibrant as he’s witnessed on the Luofu. 

It slowly kills the planet after a few centuries. 

It makes him wonder how Argo-I is special to you. 

This isn’t a useless day, not by any means. The first and second day are spent for reconnaissance anyway; he doesn’t feel like he’s wasted his time. 

Still, it’s decidedly strange—doing things without a specific goal in mind.

Dan Heng walks back to the hotel approximately three system hours before he’s due to report to you. You made it sound so serious, as though your plan was a definite fix. Though maybe he’s the idiot, for trusting your word just like that. 

It’s getting colder. Frigid air nips at his nose and face, while the bag he carries containing newly-purchased clothes cuts the circulation in his fingers off—just a bit. He takes the time to clear his head. 

From the doorway of the hotel lobby, he watches people live their lives in the grey streets. It’s an exercise meant to develop his understanding of you all without your knowledge. 

He studies them. Their clothes, their faces, the fate they slowly face that’s imminent to all: erosion. Planet extinction and destruction is a path that no one is impervious to, not even Aeons. Why is Argo-I so special to you, then?

There’s a wide variety of visages—as on all planets. 

If he had to note distinctions in clothes, it’s that they’re unusual. There’s a medley of fabric; all sorts of various fashions and garb he can’t quite place. It’s not like on the Luofu, where each garment is intricately tied to your own legacy, your status and the role you’ve taken on. 

There’s not many similarities interpersonally on Argo-I, either. From pressed charcoal suits, to bizarre shirts, to very casual attire, there’s too much variation to pick up a pattern. 

He can hear yells, laughs, and chatter from where he observes. It’s a range of human emotions: there should be, of course, the knowledge that one day this planet will fall and it will be humanity’s fault. But there’s a drive to move forward that he senses—something so intrinsic to people that it always fascinates him. It’s a perseverance despite the impending death that will eventually greet them: the greatest masterpiece of people. 

What is it? 

What exactly does this place remind you of?

He wonders these questions as he finishes changing. As he fumbles with the mesh long-sleeved top that rests over his black vest, as he pulls on the baggy trousers that have too many fastenings, as he slips on the silver jewellery he bought on impulse, he cannot help but ponder your sentiments—over and over and over. 

He’s ready to knock on room 137 to let you know he’s back. At this point, it’s almost two hours until the allotted meeting time—but checking in early won’t do any harm, right?

Or at least, he tries to knock. 

He’s sure the Elation has a hand to play in this—in a bizarre twist of fate, the door swings inward just as he’s about to rap his poised knuckles on the honey-coloured wood. 

“Oh–” you blink, and he simply stares. “I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”

And he keeps staring, since he wasn’t expecting this either. 

You’re not in your usual gear—slicked with machine oil and various stains from your work—but in something suited for going out, as you put it. It’s like his, except so different he cannot help but question if you and him have wildly different definitions for the phrase. 

Delicate chains criss-cross the black straps that pattern your body—the vast expanse of dermis has been exposed to the cold air. Dan Heng can count each scar you’ve gotten from your work. 

He observes the slope of your rolling shoulders as you open the door further. He observes the way your trousers crease like his when you lean onto your other leg. He observes the way the various pieces of jewellery adorning you clink just like the metal pieces do when you put them together. 

He swallows. 

It’s not everyday he sees something as unpredictable as this, but you’ve already established yourself as a paragon of inconsistency. 

“Did you need something?” 

It’s just like that first night. 

Except, he can actually hear you this time. 

“No,” he finds himself admitting. “I just decided to come back early.”

What will you do about that? What will you say back?

“Really? Guess you wouldn’t know the good places in the city,” you comment mildly, heading further into the spacious room while leaving the door open behind you. He follows you in. “I’ll have to show you around properly tomorrow and the days after.”

When you take a seat at the small table on the balcony, he takes the other side. 

It’s quiet. Save the sound of cars and bustling lives, the time passes with no words. 

He finds he doesn’t mind it. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

He takes back what he said. This place is loud. 

There’s that music that he occasionally hears from your room: a churning, thumping beast that he can feel pulse against his own heart. It’s dark—illuminated only by the flash of the strobe lights and the silver jewellery sported in this place. 

The crowd isn’t large enough to be suffocating, yet the twisted mass of people pushes him to the outskirts where the bar is. Where you are. Against the colours skimming you, the Argo-I silver illuminates you in a way he’s never seen before. 

It’s fascinating. 

You’re running a finger against the rim of your coupe glass, idly nodding your head to the heavy beat. The enticing liquid within is shimmering with the incandescence and topped with a slice of what appears to be a mandarin. He recognises it as the faint trace that appears when he takes your scent in: lingering, just barely noticeable. 

“You made it to the bar,” you note in amusement at his struggle to get through without stumbling. 

“Haha,” he scowls. He sits roughly onto the stool adjacent to yours, knees almost touching. The faintest brush of fabric against fabric makes him flinch slightly. 

You don’t seem to notice. 

Instead, you take a long swill from the glass, choosing to place your gaze on the amorphous mass of bodies, rather than him. 

“It’s not the classiest place, is it?” 

It’s loud. There’s a dazed, hallucinatory energy superposing his fatigued lethargy. No, it’s not, he wants to say, but there’s something that tells him it’s not quite the truth. 

“Human struggle is everywhere. In a bar for the elite, it’s only more prominent,” you murmur, pressing your chin into your palm. “Look. Ordinary people swarm here and forget their sadness briefly.”

“Do they really?” He can’t help but disagree. He’s seen enough people on Argo-I to know that behind their smiles, there’s a tiredness they can’t wash away. 

“I guess not.” A nail taps against the clear vessel. “But they’re trying. I think that’s what counts.”

You push the drink towards him. He stares it down; there’s a faint imprint of your lips on the edge from the tint of your lip balm. 

“I’ve already had a glass.” Your eyes meet his. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“What’s it called?” His chest feels tight, and the inquiry bubbles up as he notices your body poised like you’re about to take your leave like you always do. 

“There’s no formal name for it, but it’s nicknamed the devourer of dreams.” You slide off your stool, coming far too close to him. “Wanna know why?”

“Why?” His whisper is soft— strained. He can guess this is the mysterious elixir promised to him, yet he grasps at the smoke of your phantasm with the naivety of the fool attempting to touch the moon. Stay a little longer. That is the underlying message beneath the question.

“Figure it out yourself.” With a consoling pat to his shoulder, you’re swallowed up by the crowd. Dan Heng is left grasping nothing but the stem of a coupe glass and the warmth you imparted on the shoulder covered only by thin mesh. 

“Aeons,” he breathes, swallowing half the drink in one go—unconsciously directing his mouth to where yours was. For something meant to give sweet dreams, it’s surprisingly bitter. He supposes it complements you in that way. 

There’s a poster displaying the liquor only a few stools away. If he was a bit more diligent tonight, he might have read it. Warning— it reads— over-consumption of this drink may lead to side-effects such as projecting into others’ dreams, waking hallucinations, or a severe headache. Please drink with caution. 

Perhaps in another parallel universe, he might’ve spotted the bold red letters—and the poster in the first place. 

Unfortunately, in this specific strand of the universe, he doesn’t. 

He watches you instead. You somehow slot into these people like you belonged all along: moving when they move, dancing with strangers to the bass he doesn’t know. There’s a smile on your face—one he’s never seen before. 

It’s a strange mixture of exhaustion, layered with faint guilt and wistfulness. But, beneath that, it’s easing into relaxation.  

You, with people you’ve known less than a few minutes, have shown them more depth than he’s seen in around three months. 

His eyes narrow, and he swills the rest down with a scowl. 

There’s an unbearable feeling inside. Empty glasses start crowding around his right hand. Even when you come back, he can still feel its pangs.

“Now, we go to sleep and experience the effects of our dear devourer.” Your body carries the new smell of alcohol, and he can’t help but take you in fully once more. There’s a buzz to you now—tainted with liquor and slight tipsiness, while your skin glistens with sweat from the exertion. A small bead trails down your chest and out of sight, and his eyes can’t help but follow it. 

“And it just works like that?” He can’t help but be sceptical, but he wonders just how far it’s scepticism and not the urge to remain like this for a few moments longer. 

Pointedly, you eye the neat row of glasses by his elbow. “I’ll be more surprised if it doesn’t work.”

You’re closer to him than you would be in any other situation. 

He can almost taste the liquor still on your lips, and involuntarily, his eyes flicker downwards—too fast for you to perceive it. 

“What do I get from you if it doesn’t work?” 

Just a little longer. Let him stay seated with you by his side a little longer. 

“Nothing, since I never guaranteed anything,” you reply brusquely, seemingly unaffected by the proximity once more. “But I’ll buy you a round of SoulGlad from Penacony if we ever go.”

There’s a lingering feeling of disappointment that he can’t suppress. It’s your usual style of reasoning, so why is he feeling that way?

“Wow,” he remarks dryly. “What an interesting way of following Akivili.”

“Make a contract next time if you want a favour,” you yawn, grabbing his hand and tossing down currency that doesn’t resemble the uniform pristineness of credits. The various notes—both crisp and rumpled—are a light green and host different portraits on them. But he doesn’t focus on that—rather, he’s committing the feeling of your skin to his memory. “And I am trailblazing. New ways of negotiation.”

It’s raining when the two of you stumble outside the club. The skies have turned pitch black—nothing like the vast galaxies that watch over the Luofu—while the lamplight shines orange on the wet tarmac. 

You’re still holding his hand while you take the lead. 

He can’t see your face, but he can feel your fingers digging into his palm as you stare resolutely forward. 

If he looks closely, he thinks he can see your shoulders trembling. 

You alright?  

That’s what he wants to say, but he presses his icy lips together instead as you both take the elevator up. When the doors open again, it’s not the familiar hallway that greets him but the very top of the hotel. The skyscrapers surrounding the roof glitter like stars, and he wonders if this is the detachment constellations feel from the rest of the universe. 

You lean against the railing, allowing the wind to tussle and tug at your clothes and skin. There’s a bitter smile on your lips as you beckon him to your side. 

The rain may have slowed to a drizzle, but someone is definitely going to come down with a cold and it won’t be him. 

He doesn’t bluntly tell you that you’re being a fool at this moment. 

He’s sure you’re already well aware. 

“What do you think when you look at this world?”

Dan Heng pauses. 

“It’s… loud. Chaotic. There’s not much rhyme or reason to this place.”

And as expected, you neither confirm nor deny his statement.

“It’s also impossible to generalise this place to just that. There’s struggle, there’s perseverance, and there’s sincere effort to try despite the knowledge that this planet is dying,” he finally summarises. “It’s a quality that can’t be tamped down in this universe.”

“If these people knew there was a chance to escape and live only in paradise, do you think they’d take it?” Your lips form hollow words—so fragile they’re battered bloody in the cold wind. 

He thinks carefully about his next reply. It could hold the key to chipping more of that marble exoshell from you. 

“Some would, some wouldn’t. You’ve already got people migrating to Argo-II for a better life. You’ve already got people succumbing to vice,” he leans back against the railing too, until his gelid shoulder presses against yours. “No matter where you go, you can’t have paradise. There’ll always be something missing. And what’s missing is unique to every person. Paradise is only a temporary fixture, and a pointless goal in the first place.”

Was that the right thing to say? It’s the first time he’s mulling over the strings escaping his larynx—the first time he’s properly consoling someone who looks so stricken at the sight of people below. 

“Is it the wrong choice to escape? To take the dreams of others to escape and achieve it while they can’t?” 

“No.” He meets your eyes this time. Dan Heng watches as they widen, then close in what he can only assume is relief. “To clarify, there cannot be a ‘right’ choice when it concerns doing what’s best for you. We survive and we move on.”

“I think it’s admirable when people decide what’s best for themselves. After all, we aren’t responsible for others choosing what’s best for themselves either,” he adds. 

You can’t save everyone, he wants to say. 

“Thanks.” It’s a quiet word, accompanied by you waving him forward. When he glances back, your face schools itself into a weak smile. 

Perhaps if he were a bit quicker, he might’ve not heard the lapse in strength—the vibrant vulnerability in your voice once more. 

But as Vidyadhara, his hearing is good, while his timing is the worst. So while he’s carefully propping the door behind him so it doesn’t get locked, he overhears three words clearly not meant for him. 

“I miss Earth.”

It’s a foreign phrase, one he doesn’t know the meaning of. It’s not the True Universal Language dialect, nor is it any he recognises. 

He can only memorise the shape of the sounds and hope that one day, you’ll tell him with your own words what it means. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

If he had to describe his second night on Argo-I, it would be kind. For once, there’s a lack of nightmares—only a lucid field that describes itself as Asphodel. 

Peace for the unremarkable. 

In fact, he feels so well-rested in the morning that there’s even a mild smile on his face when he knocks on your door: something so uncharacteristic for him that he can feel his facial muscles practically creak with disuse. 

You take him everywhere you can think of on the motorcycle. There’s the beach again; the waves lapping at his feet are cold and unlike the lightless waters he saw at night.  He holds no particular love for the casino, and it appears you don’t either—you bet the minimum, easily resisting the beginner's urge to continue when your luck appears to be high. 

You take him to scenic parks, loamy forests, and peaceful lakes. You take him to bookstores, coffeehouses, and various restaurants. And when the artificial sun is hidden, you take him to that club. 

Dan Heng downs glass after glass of the dream devourer, never pausing to glance at the poster only a few feet away. And even if he did, he’d think the blood of Long would make him impervious to most of alcohol’s effects. Hallucinations, migraines, projecting into others’ dreams. 

And each night is pleasant, save the very last. 

He’s drunk more than usual tonight. He, also, has not noticed that crucial factor yet—the poster warning against overconsumption. 

This is his first mistake. 

His next mistake is drinking several glasses of this every night. Naturally, he assumed a larger dose before he slumbered would be more effective as a Vidyadhara. 

So naturally, the latent effects are built up too quickly, too immensely. 

Dan Heng still thinks everything is fine when his head hits the pillow. He thinks everything is fine even when the fields of Asphodel aren’t resembling the landscape he’s seen every night. In fact, he’s still thinking everything is fine when the topography begins changing. 

Why wouldn’t he?

He’s had a taste of peace, so forgive him for craving it. 

Clean, warm wind brushes past his face. This is no field. This is a beach: golden sand (unlike the gritty, grey stuff of Argo-I), aquamarine waters (also unlike the grey stuff here), and vegetation that befits this scene. 

His eyes take it all in: the scenery, and you.  

He can see you—your back is facing him, but he could recognise your form anywhere. Dan Heng swallows. There’s nothing covering your skin except a white fabric draped around your waist and cascading down your legs, and golden jewellery adorning your flesh. It shines against the vast dermis, and he thinks for a moment that he’s never seen something as entrancing. 

However, you’re not alone. There’s various wisps surrounding you, speaking to you in murmurs he can’t decipher. It’s an alien language—untranslatable to him, but he recognises exactly one word from the conversation.

“◼◼◼◼— ! ◼◼ Earth ◼◼◼◼; ◼◼◼….”

“◼◼, ◼◼◼◼◼ ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼   ◼◼◼◼,” you reply. There’s barely any coldness left in your normally harsher tone. Instead, your cadence is fragile and heartbroken. “◼◼.”

This is a dream, Dan Heng reminds himself. This isn’t reality, nor are you actually showing him layers of yourself you hadn’t before. 

So, he watches as the wisps dissipate. He watches as you stay staring at the sea, watches as your shoulders relax in acceptance. 

This is a dream, he repeats, before making his way to your side. Being lucid like this comes with clear benefits, but it also makes him notice details in his dreams with painstaking detail. 

Of course, that’s a beneficial function.

But currently, he’s fighting himself to not collapse in shock. 

When he noticed the fabric draped only around your waist, he naively assumed your torso was at least covered from the front, if only by those straps from the club. 

It isn’t.

His eyes can’t help but trail across you, noting the gold dripping down your flesh, the metallic colour painting the skin of your face in graceful lines. And his cheeks can’t help but begin to flush rosy at the sight. 

“Dan Heng?” It’s the first time he’s heard you say his name. Though your voice is harsher when you revert to Universal, he thinks it’s never sounded better. 

“Yes,” he affirms immediately. 

“Why are you here?” It’s not an accusation. It’s more tinged with disbelief, rather than anything. 

“Why not?” he breathes. This is a dream, he thinks, so he doesn’t stop his hand from lifting and placing itself on the side of your face. 

Why? His heart is thumping right out of his chest—skin and muscle taut as a result. Why does he feel this way?

“You appeared to distract me, didn’t you?” Your laughter is genuine. It’s so clear that you can’t be anything but a figment of his imagination—he’s never heard you sound so amused. 

His skin burns where it’s come into contact with yours. If this were reality, he’d never have the courage to do this. 

“Do you want to be distracted?” he replies, mind already hazing over as it succumbs to his body. 

“Sure.” Your voice is steady, as though you’re utterly unaffected by this. So unlike him, where his legs are beginning to grow unsteady and his chest is rising and falling faster. “And you’ll achieve it, how, exactly?”

Aeons. His subconscious has replicated your mannerisms almost perfectly. 

His other hand traces the planes of your face, finally settling across your cheek to mirror the first. He’s clasping your visage, while you quietly watch him. 

What will your next move be?— your expression asks. 

And he’s tired of his fluttering heart, tired of your elusiveness, tired of how it never seems to be enough—how he never seems to be enough to capture your attention like those machines do. 

Dan Heng’s not entirely sure when the lines merged between friendship and something else. Looking at you like this in the palm of his hands, literally, he thinks it’s finally clicked for him. 

This is a dream, he acknowledges. You won’t be looking at him like this in real life. 

“You trying to kiss or gawk at me?” you ask bluntly, suddenly grasping the front of his turtleneck and pulling his face closer to yours. “Don’t waste my—”

He cuts you off with his own lips, pulling your face towards his while he feels your hand form a fist in surprise. 

You taste like the sea. It’s yet another layer that’s been uncovered, except this is only a dream. 

It’s only a dream, he thinks bitterly as your hands fall to his sides and press him into your bare torso. You’re warm, even through the seawater currently clamming your arms up. Some things simply don’t change. 

It’s only a dream, he thinks with regret as his fingers trace the expanse of your body, watching the gold on you smear and leave its matching imprint on his own palms. 

It’s only a dream, as he moves his mouth to your jaw and trails a burning path down to your collarbone. 

“You—” Finally. You’re breathing heavily as he holds you as though you were his lifeline—lips still latched onto the juncture between neck and shoulder. Clearly, you’re not as unaffected as you seem. 

Vidyadhara physiology is fascinating. Not only can he taste the salt of your skin, feel the dermis breaking slightly beneath sharp canines—but he can feel your pulse as it quickens to a dizzying allegro. 

You wrench him away from you, and he’s still processing his disorientation over you when your palms push him into lying against the sand. He’s barely propped himself up on his elbows when you’re suddenly looming over him—almost straddling him as you bring him back into a bruising kiss. 

He’s gasping now himself; not out of a need for air in particular, but because you’re practically forcing it out of him. He’s a greedy man—almost reflexively, he manoeuvres his arms to wind around your neck so he can press himself closer to you. 

Dan Heng is losing his mind. 

While there was a real possibility of that anyway after his stint in the Shackling Prison, he thinks he’ll go mad within the next system minute. 

You’re straddling him fully now, and there’s only some folds of fabric separating you from him that are slowly riding up your thighs. 

I need you.  

The words go unspoken, but he doesn’t get an opportunity to speak them in the first place. 

He’s fading away, grasping at your material form with his own incorporeal hand. 

No, he begs. 

This is a dream.

This is a dream. 

This is a dream, therefore the lucidity with which he moved ends when he’s waking up. 

This is a dream, so the surprise in your face isn’t real as he feels himself drift back into consciousness. 

This is a dream. This is not reality. 

He wakes up panting. Sweat drenches his skin and makes his clothes stick uncomfortably against his body: suffocating, so overwhelmingly profound that his fingers scrabble against the hotel bed to make sure he’s not still at that fateful beach. 

What the—

For once in his life, he is utterly and completely lost. As Dan Feng, letting himself be swept up by emotions was the end of him and his freedom. The plight of Dan Heng continues due to the downright foolish actions of his predecessor, which is why he resolved to act pragmatically and logically—to avoid those same mistakes. 

The man buries his face in his hands. Those palms are clammy; after all, his nervous system has basically just rewired itself at your touch. Your phantom touch— because, as he reminds himself, it was not real.  

He’s not an idiot. But currently, he feels like one. How else would he explain why he dreamt about his friend, and with all his mental faculties in order, chose to kiss him? This was a lucid dream. This was a lucid dream, meaning his limbs were in direct control of his mind. 

The only other explanation would be madness induced by avoiding his usual nightmares. He must’ve lost all his senses by all the adrenaline catching up to him. 

How will he face you?

At least, with his nightmares, there’s a very clear lesson embedded within them. Avoid the man with red eyes. It’s instinctual—primal, even—to run when he feels that disturbance caused by the man who perpetually hunts him down. That, though not easy, is relatively straightforward to deal with. It’s a matter of fight or flight. This, on the other hand, is perplexing to say the least. At four system hours in the morning, it is even more difficult to deal with. 

This is now reality. 

This is no longer a dream. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

There’s a certain sort of word attributed to situations like this. Shame. According to the standard TUL dialect, it refers to the painful humiliation or distress caused by being conscious of a foolish action. And he’s feeling plenty of it as he stares at you in the hallway. 

The sensation is strange—like he’s hearing it through the deep end of water. In his past life, the emotion lingered in his shadow and was a constant reminder of his sins. He may not be able to remember the specific fragments clearly, but Aeons is the feeling palpable. 

“What?” you yawn widely. A loose pair of trousers sits at your hips, and he’d think that were normal if it weren’t for your top half only consisting of another loose piece of fabric flung around your shoulders. It hits far too close to home—just when he thought he’d composed himself, there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks once more. “You gonna miss Argo-I?”

No. Yes. 

He won’t miss the clamour that comes when watching the streets. He won’t miss the chaos and the glitzy facade this city puts up. He won’t miss the suffering found in these same streets that promise abundance and glory. 

He will, however, miss this aspect of you. These glimpses of you he’s never caught before—flashes of pain, grief, acceptance, hopelessness—put cracks in your sculpture that he wouldn’t mind peering at forever. 

But he can’t tell you that.

“Not particularly.” 

“Right.” You lean against the doorway with a sharp grin, and he follows the motion with an accelerating pulse. “That explains why you look more depressed than usual.”

He frowns, and it almost feels like regular back-and-forth you two have slowly settled into. 

“This planet is depressing,” he deadpans. 

“Did the devourer of dreams not work this time or something?” you wonder instead. “And I almost completely won the little bet you tried to initiate.”

Dan Heng’s face goes through a rather alarming progression of waxy-white to puce. To his credit, he manages to compose himself remarkably quickly; it pays to have a resting bored face, after all. 

Do you know? Have you somehow pieced together his erratic behaviour and drawn out his dreams for your own amusement?

Behind his back, his nails dig into his palms and form bloody crescent moons shaped just like your grin. 

“No,” he grits out. “My dreams were the same as I’ve had all this week. You think we could get the drink imported?”

It’s not what he wants to say. After tonight, he doesn’t think he can ever touch another coupe glass without it feeling indecent. 

“That’s interesting,” you tilt your head thoughtfully. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were the one following The Hunt and not him. “I had quite the fascinating dream last night.”

What does that mean? The way you word it has his skin prickling uncomfortably, but there’s no way you’d know what he dreamed. It doesn’t make sense. Not at all. This isn’t the legendary Penacony he’s heard about, and this sort of dreamscape offered is nothing more but cheaper mimicry made by the desperate for the desperate. 

He’s still paranoid, and he hopes you don’t recognise his slightly shallower breathing. 

“But no,” you add. “The specific composition in the drink makes it impossible to preserve for import, from what I’ve heard.”

“Actually,” you murmur, seemingly mystified. “What the hell is in that thing?”

Dan Heng has never agreed with you as profoundly as he does now. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

[shadowqueen402]

Balan Wonderworld Outfits: Chapter 8

Finally, I'm doing my favorite Chapter! Since it is winter-themed, almost all of the characters will be wearing winter outfits! Though, Iben will receive an interesting outfit choice since this is her Chapter. I hope you all like these!

Leo Craig

A dark blue winter hat with a white pom-pom on top, a dark blue scarf, a white coat with black accents over a red turtleneck sweater, dark blue mittens, black pants, and tall red boots.

Emma Cole

A pair of pink earmuffs, a red coat dress with six black buttons and white fur trimming on the hood, cuffs, and rim, a pink fringed scarf, matching pink mittens, black leggings, and tall green boots.

Jose Gallard

A red coat with white fur trimming on the hood, a black long-sleeved shirt, dark blue pants, and black shoes.

Fiona Demetria

A white turtleneck sweater underneath a navy blue sleeveless vest, denim blue jeans, and brown boots with white fur trimming around the cuffs. She wears a navy blue hair tie.

Yuri Brand

A red winter hat, an indigo coat, magenta mittens, olive green pants, and purple boots with a pair of white pom poms on each one.

Haoyu Chang

A grey winter hat and matching scarf, an orange coat over a green shirt, brown pants, and white shoes.

Sana Hudson

A brown coat with white fur trimming on the hood and cuffs, a dark green shirt, dark blue denim jeans, and cream colored boots.

Cass Milligan

A fuschia coat over a white shirt, black mittens, black pants, fuschia socks, and black ankle boots. She wears her hair up in a ponytail with a fuschia ribbon.

Cal Suresh

A grey winter hat, a black trenchcoat over a yellow shirt, a white scarf, dark grey pants, and black boots.

Iben Bia

A sleeveless, hooded denim blue vest with white fur trimming on the hood, a black shirt with a purple lining on the collar and lavender long-sleeves, red shorts with two gold buttons, black knee-high socks with light blue lining, and purple high-top shoes with white shoelaces.

Attilio Caccini

A dark magenta coat over a yellow turtleneck sweater, grey pants, and brown boots.

Lucy Wong

A long, black trenchcoat over an emerald green turtleneck sweater, a light green scarf, a black belt with a silver buckle, a long grey skirt with four black buttons, and emerald green boots with white fur trimming and white pom poms.

Eis Glover

A brown coat that reaches down to his knees over a red turtleneck sweater, dark grey pants, and tall black boots.

Bruce Stone

A cream-colored turtleneck sweater, mauve pants, and black shoes. He no longer sports his standard hat.

Act 3 Outfit (Specifically for Iben)

A short, form-fitting purple evening dress with a sweetheart neckline, gold cluster earrings with turquoise gems, a gold oval-shaped locket with a heart-shaped turquoise gem, and lavender stilettos. She wears her hair in a ponytail with a lavender hair tie.

[smudgingpumpkins]

13.09.2023

Hericium americanum

-Commonly known as Bear's Head or Bear's Tooth-

Where: Northeastern US & Canada

Grows in deciduous/hardwood forests from living and decaying trees. Typically from oak and birchwood.

When: August-November

My friends and I found this little guy in September at Molly's Falls State Park, located in Cabot and Marshfield, Vermont.

There are many ways to consume this edible mushroom, but since we had been camping for weeks, due to our lack of resources we simply just intensely fried them in olive oil with salt and pepper seasoning. Nonetheless, it was super delicious!

----------

Appearance:

Bear's Head are relatively large mushrooms that grow 15-30 cm in diameter (6-11 inches) in compact clusters. It looks like thick, tufty, and smooth icicles or teeth that branch downwards. Bear's Head mushrooms are initially white in color when young and become more yellow as they age.

This mushroom releases spores through its "teeth," rather than gills or pores.

Taste:

The Bear's Tooth mushroom is known for having a tender, mild seafood-like taste, most akin to a slight crab or lobster flavor. It is best to pick these mushrooms while they are young and white because it becomes more bitter as the mushroom ages. When cooked, Bear's Tooth becomes brown in color.

This mushroom contains fiber, protein, antioxidants, and vitamin D!

You should ALWAYS cook wild mushrooms for the safest outcome, even if they are known to be edible. Bear's Head works well with sautéing, frying, and even baking.

I have heard that these mushrooms work really well as crab or lobster substitutes. Try them in crab cakes, seafood tacos, and soups! Its fishy, meaty flavor pairs well with butter, garlic, shallots, and lemon.

Medicinal Uses:

It is believed (by tribes in the northern parts of North America) that Bear's Head mushrooms, as well as other Hericium, can be utilized to treat bleeding wounds in their dried or powdered form, due to their antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties.

There has been some research that shows that certain properties of Hericium can stimulate the synthesis of the NGF protein, which aids with improving memory and mood, and prevents brain cells from dying. This means that it can help prevent or combat Alzheimer's and other neurodegenerative diseases.

In Japan, clinical tests have shown that Hericium's antibacterial properties helped with the treatment of gastrointestinal issues such as stomach ulcers, chronic gastritis, Crohn's Disease, and esophageal cancer.

Of course, these mushrooms do not substitute medical attention and prescriptions. Further research is needed, and these studies only show that Hericium helps with treating symptoms--it is not a cure.

----------

** Bear's Head/Tooth is commonly confused to be synonymous with the Lion's Mane mushroom. However, these mushrooms are not the same species but are very closely related in the genus Hericium.

Bear's Head has longer branching fruiting bodies than the Lion's Mane. It looks more like melting candlewax whereas Lion's Mane looks more like a pom pom. The Coral Tooth Mushroom is also closely related, but as in the name, it has much shorter branches that look very much like corals.

Here is a good chart by the website Real Mushrooms:

[alternatefandom]

at the end of this starbound path (i will be waiting for you) (4/4)

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail Pairing: Genfic, strong Jing Yuan/Dan Heng Summary: "Cease your tears, Dan Heng. For as long as I am in your care, I won't let this affliction get the best of me." "You can't promise that," Dan Heng said. He buried his face in Jing Yuan's shoulder, breathing in his scent, committing it to memory. "You don't know that." "But I do," Jing Yuan said. "Didn't you hear? They call me the Divine Foresight at Xianzhou. So, allow me to give this piece of foresight to you: when I do leave this mortal world, it will not happen on this train, when I am still under your care. That, I can promise you." - Freeing Dan Heng from the shadow of Dan Feng turns out to be far more complicated than just signing a pardon. Or: Jing Yuan takes a long-earned vacation amongst the stars, Dan Heng has an identity crisis, and Yanqing finally gets to wrangle criminals within his own paygrade. Link to Ao3

It all began with a simple piece of news.

The circumstances of its arrival were hardly notable. The Astral Express had been bustling with activity, its crew preparing for departure for the next world. Pom-Pom was rushing about, doing whatever conductors do on trains as mysterious as this one. Himeko was sitting on a table, poring over train schedules and supply lists, and Welt was quietly discussing routes and planetary conditions with her.

On the table, the radio crackled away, ignored.

March and Stelle were clustered by the window, taking a last look at the grand Xianzhou ship. The two had greatly enjoyed their time on the Luofu, and they were now chatting excitedly, trading pictures as they discussed the incredible events they had been involved in. Dan Heng did not partake in their conversation. His mind was too full of memories, particularly of the last time he’d left Xianzhou Luofu in a small starskiff, too many years ago to count.

Back then, he had left without taking a single glance back.

Breaking news from the Xianzhou Alliance, the radio announced, as if discontent with the utter distraction of its audience. Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, has been assassinated. Reports speak of unrest amongst the Vidyadhara—

"What???" March screeched. "But we just saw him a couple hours ago!"

"Why?" Stelle's eyes flicked to Dan Heng's. "He returned a hero. He risked his life to save the Luofu."

"Jing Yuan is the leader of an entire Xianzhou ship," Dan Heng said, suddenly feeling very tired. "A position like that comes with enemies. And... he’d been more injured than anyone could see."

Thanks to me, were the words he thought of but could not utter. The spear throw had been a precision strike; it had left no physical marks, but it had overloaded Jing Yuan's spiritual pathways badly enough to damage Phantylia in turn. Dan Heng had counted on the other Vidyadhara to restore him to full health, but...

...the Luofu Vidyadhara denied all involvement, the radio announced, almost mockingly. However, with the rise of the Dragon Palace as well as rumors of Imbibitor Lunae's exile—

Click.

Welt's finger remained firmly pressed upon the radio's power button, but his eyes were fixed on Dan Heng. "Do you wish to delay our departure?" he said. "General Jing Yuan had been... an ally. But with the assassination, we may end up being involved in Luofu's internal conflict again."

"If that happens, we might not get the opportunity to leave for quite some time," Himeko sighed. "Well, it's your home, Dan Heng. What do you think?"

"I..."

In his heart of hearts, he would like to stay. The Luofu had been home, and even though the Astral Express had taken up the role in all senses of the word, there was something within him that still longed to come back, like waves returning to shore. Inevitable. Inexorable. Everlasting.

And despite Jing Yuan's unwelcome arm-twisting at the Dragonvista Rain Hall, Dan Heng was aware that the man had always treated him as kindly as he could. Despite his displeasure at being made to bear another's sin, something in him understood—even sympathized—with Jing Yuan's concessions in the face of duty. What a glorious thing it must seem, to hold such power in your hand. What a heavy burden, to always weigh the lives of your people in your palm.

There are things that I wish I did not have to do, and yet, I must.

"I would like to pay my respects," Dan Heng said, quietly. "If at all possible."

"Then let's stay for a bit," March said. "We didn't do anything, after all. Nothing too bad should happen... right?"

"This feels like tempting fate," Stelle said. "But alright. Let's stay."

"Unnecessary," came a haughty female voice, "Take him with you. We'll see how much you feel like respecting him after you get involved in yet another one of his schemes."

Dan Heng turned. By the door was Fu Xuan herself, looking rather rumpled as she strode into the carriage. Her heels clicked against the floor in a tense staccato, and her lips were curled in displeasure. Behind her, she was dragging along a figure in a hooded brown cloak.

His face was covered in shadows, but Dan Heng would recognize those golden eyes anywhere.

"Lady Fu," Jing Yuan sighed. With one hand, he swept the hood off his head. "Must you?"

"I would apologize, General, but I have found you half-dead twice in this past week. While it is my opinion that you should retire as soon as possible, I would prefer that you do so through a less permanent method than death."

Relief crashed upon him in an unrelenting wave, and before he knew it, Dan Heng was rushing to their side. "Why is he not with a healer?"

"Because an unknown faction has recently infiltrated the Seat of Divine Foresight," Fu Xuan said. Her eyes met his, blazing gold. "The Vidyadhara—"

"—are occupied with their internal matters," Jing Yuan said. His lips curved into that familiar smile. "I'm afraid I will have to heal the old-fashioned way."

Together with Fu Xuan, Dan Heng guided Jing Yuan to the nearest seat. His heart sank as he noticed the wound on Jing Yuan's side, still bleeding sluggishly. Noticing the direction of his gaze, Jing Yuan gave him a small, reassuring smile. With a careless flick, the wound vanished under the cloak once more.

"I've put him on mandatory leave until he fully recovers," Fu Xuan said sourly. "So if the Astral Express could take him in, we would be in your debt."

"You could do that?" March wondered. "I thought he's your boss."

"He can't be anyone's boss when the entire Xianzhou thinks he's dead," Fu Xuan said. "And it's imperative that things remain that way. Considering that you have successfully sheltered Master Dan Heng until his return to the Luofu, I'm sure you won't have any trouble ensuring he rests undisturbed."

"I've always wanted to become a galaxy ranger," Jing Yuan mused. "I guess joining the Astral Express means that I got to fulfill my childhood dreams, at the end."

Fu Xuan's lips thinned. Her next words were quiet, almost forlorn. "Enjoy your vacation, General."

Jing Yuan smiled gently. It didn't seem to reassure Fu Xuan in the slightest. "I will. More importantly, Lady Fu, my last edict..."

"I will see it done," she promised. Her eyes flickered over the Astral Crew's. "Thank you for your service, Pathstriders of Akivili. Until we see each other again."

Without waiting for a response, she turned around and strode out of the carriage.

"We haven't said yes, you know!" Stelle called out after her. In the distance, they could hear the train door slamming shut.

Under their feet, the Astral Express slowly whirred to life.

Read the rest on Ao3

[keypropertisentul]

💢 *JUAL RUMAH 2 LANTAI NEW DESIGN GRIYA ALAM SENTUL BOGOR*💢

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

https://youtu.be/fYkpNMJ9FHw

♨️ ALAMAT: BLOK A GAS

Luas Tanah : 286m²

Luas Bangunan : 180m²

2 lantai

Kolam renang

Ruang tamu

Ruang keluarga

Garasi mobil

Kitchen set

View gunung

KT 3+1

Km 3+1

Surat : SHM

Harga 3.5 Milyar

🔸️ DESAIN LIMITED NEW

🔸️ MODERN TROPIS MINIMALIS

🔸️ MURAH DIBAWAH PASARAN

💢*KELEBIHAN LOKASI*💢

➡ Berada di Dekat CBD SENTULCITY

➡ JUAL cepat asal bersahabat

➡ Sejuk, hijau, asri dingin 5 menit ke toll Sentul Selatan.

➡ Kondisi rapih bagus siap huni

➡ BPL murah Meriah

➡ Taman Samping Luas

➡ Dekat AEON MALL, STA, Universitas Trisakti, RS EMC, POM dll.

Percayakan Jual Beli sewa Renovasi Bangun Desain Properti Anda Bersama Kami. ====================

Support By :

IG, FB Etc : "CariRumahIndonesia"

Twitter. : @Carirumahindo

YouTube. : https://youtube.com/@Carirumahindonesia

===================

🛃 More Info :

☎️ 0816 579 115

👨‍💻 ©ari ®umah Indonesia

www.propertysentulcity.com

www.carirumahindonesia.com

=====================

#RumahDijual #VillaDijual #RainbowHills #Golf #GtiyaAlamSentul #CigedeGroup #Sentulcity #RumahBogor #Properti #Investasi #likeforlike #BangunRumah #Kontraktor #architecture #EMC #RumahMinimalis #Desain #Investor #SharingProfit #BisnisProperti #CariRumahIndonesia #SICC #Followforfollow #Sirkuit #SentulAlaya #AdhiKarya #AgungPodomoro #AgungSedayu #BSD #SentulPP

=============================

BOGOR, DIJUAL, HAMBALANG, INVESTASI, INVESTOR, JAKARTA, JAWA BARAT, JUNGLELAND, KERJASAMA, KONSULTAN, MOUNTAIN, PROPERTI, READY STOCK, RUMAH, SAHAM, SECONDARY, SENTUL CITY, SHARING PROFIT, SHOW UNIT, VIEW, CLUSTER TAMAN VENESIA, BOULEVARD, MODERN CLASSIC, DESAIN, MODERN, CLASSIC, TROPIS,

[crookedherringcolorclod]

Nothing but sweet lies today, or is it? || Subaru and Akemi (Valentines Special💕)

A/N: Hello! Happy Valentines y'all!! I haven't been writing AkeSuba a lot but I swear I have a lot in store! Stay tuned!!

“Oh my, Relio-chan. You have quite the haul this year.” Laito exclaimed, his hand on his lips as Akemi stared at the never-ending pile of gifts on her desk, wincing at the sights of reds, pinks, and whites clustered into a monstrous Valentine’s surprise.

Sighing, Akemi picked up the boxes of chocolates placed right in the center of her seat. “I guess there are just some people who don’t like to take a hint, I’m sure you would know about that.” Laito only let out a small chuckle, taking one of a few boxes of sweets on Akemi’s desk, a small clear box of macarons wrapped in a ruby red bow.

“Well then, you don’t mind if I take this? Thank you for your lovely Valentine’s gift to me, Relio-chan.” Akemi only rolled her eyes, swatting Laito away as if he were a mere fly buzzing in her ear as he made his way to his seat, chatting away with the girls surrounding his seat. “Here, let me help you, Akemi.” Asa insisted, her hands swiftly arranging the bouquets of flowers of different kinds. Lilies, daisies, most of them are roses. All of them paled in comparison to the roses in the manor. ‘Maybe I could cut some of them? Place them in my books and preserve the best ones. My bedroom would just smell like flowers and nothing but flowers.’ Akemi thought to herself, wondering if she would want her room to smell like rotting flowers in the first place.

Akemi let out a tired sigh, quiet enough that the students didn’t hear, loud enough that her older sister could hear... “Thank you so much… there’s always too much of them.” Akemi mumbled out, her voice low as a whisper. The last thing she wants right now is to be called ungrateful by her peers for not accepting gifts she never asked for.

What’s wrong with you? They put so much effort into you. They have such poor taste if they like someone as inconsiderate as you, blah blah blah…

‘Well, none of them know what I want because they don’t put the effort into knowing me, so screw you.’

Asa noticed the blank look in Akemi’s eyes, lost in her thoughts. “Hey, look at me, it’s all right. You don’t need to accept all of them, just take whatever you want.” Asa assured, rubbing Akemi’s back in small circles with her finger. “Hmm, there might be something for Amaya here… it’s funny that they mixed up our tastes in sweets.”

‘It’s funnier that they don’t know I have a sweet tooth. Amaya is the one that likes that 100% cacao dark chocolate. She pretty much likes everything.’

Asa let out a small laugh. “We would have enough chocolate to satisfy Kanato at least a month. No, I think it won’t last a week.” Akemi smiled, a certain gift seemed to catch her eye amidst the pile of valentines. She wanted to laugh, the gift was so over the top that it took her back to old memories.

The gift was a cylinder-shaped box, it’s pale green exterior helped it stand out from the bright reds and is carefully wrapped in a baby pink bow. With her eyebrow raised in amusement, Akemi marveled at the pulled at the soft ribbon, opening the box’s cover to feel a bottle wrapped in silk. Akemi looked at the card to find a name embossed on the paper, it was a boy in Shu’s class, like many others, he is from a rich family, and other than that, there is almost nothing special between him and many boys before him.

‘Well, someone went all out for me.’ Akemi mused while unwrapping the silk to reveal a pretty pink bottle adorned with pom pom to match. ‘Sweet like candy? So expensive.’ Curious at the intricate surprise, Akemi spritzed some of the perfume to her wrist and neck and took a whiff. She winces at the strong scent emanating from her wrist and put the bottle away.

‘Such a girlish and sugary fragrance… definitely not my type.’

One gift after the other, Akemi’s face remained passive, no disgust clouding her features, no gushing over stuffed animals adorned in hearts and stitched together with pink and red fabrics. The pile of gifts never seemed to end, always finding a rose, a letter, or a box of chocolates added to the pile or given during class as a proclamation of love, forcing her to accept it politely while the teacher attempts to settle the class down. Each present screaming desperation with its gaudy decorations in hopes to be her taste.

What everyone considers as a holiday to celebrate love felt nothing but a sham in Akemi’s eyes. The constant back and forth of gifts and expecting your feelings to be reciprocated. Mountains and mountains of expectations and hopes of reciprocated feelings that teenager mistake for love fall heavy on the vampire’s shoulders. Even when she simply wants to return to the limousine, Akemi still smells a human lurking by.

“Akemi-senpai, um… I like you, please accept this.”

Batting her eyes, Akemi took the letter and a box of chocolates from the young man’s hands, avoiding his touch. “Oh, you’re too kind.” She thanked him, cupping her hand to her cheek, acting like the blushing maiden that people have envisioned her to be. Blushing with pride, the young man bid her goodbye as she made her way to the limousine, not even sparing a glance at him or a lingering gaze. Reiji looks up from his book to glare at the easy stride of his cousin as sits down and plops the gift on her lap with almost no care in the world or for the heartfelt present.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not up to any swindling with any of those bastards.” Akemi assured, rolling her eyes at Reiji’s disapproval.

Footsteps grew louder as it made its way to the limousine, a flash of raven hair peeks from the limousine’s door, hiding dark blue eyes. “Akemi! I got a lot of chocolate pocky today!” Amaya exclaimed in delight, hoisting several paper bags into the air, Akemi could not help but to chuckle the sight. “Congrats, Amaya, we can have lots of sweets that can lasts us a month or so.” Akemi laughed as her younger sister wraps her arms around her pale slender neck, nuzzling it and inhaling the new sweet scent that surrounds her.

“Ehhh? Did you get to have perfume as a gift from one of the guys for Valentine’s? I’m jealous.” Amaya feigned a pout, her eyes drifting to the box that lay at Akemi’s feet alongside other flowers and chocolates. “You can have it if you like, it would be a pity if we threw it away,” Akemi recommended, picking up the cylinder box. “Really? You sure?” Akemi gave a small nod at Amaya as she was opening the last box of chocolates she got from the boy near the limousine. The chocolates looked handmade and molded into small hearts and wrapped individually in origami paper.

Before Akemi could eat the chocolate, she frowned and brought one of the chocolates to her nose and took a whiff. Her fingers made haste as she unwrapped the chocolates one by one, placing them back into their place once she laid them bare.

“Have you finally gone stupid? Do eat that chocolate already.” Reiji snapped at Akemi, who was paying no mind to him, finally pulling the chocolate apart with her fingers. “Seriously? This again? What did she do this time? Did Akemi breathe too hard for your liking?” Amaya protested as Akemi breaks the chocolate open, revealing a razor blade, the ones you could find in a store to cut paper with precision.

Whilst Reiji watches Akemi with a calculating gaze, her expression remained impassive at the discovery.

‘How sweet of him, and what a waste of good chocolate. Well… he was too young for me anyway.’ Akemi pondered, raising the razor blade to the limousine’s light, a dull light emitting from the steel between her fingers. Amaya looks in horror and confusion.

“Wait… how did you know he would…” Amaya asked, her words trailing into silence at the sight. “It’s called being careful, nothing much.” Akemi shrugged as she threw the chocolate out of the window, not caring if it hit anyone. Amaya tries to reach her hand out to her elder sister but hesitates as she watches Akemi press her face against the glass, her eyes stare into nothing as the rest of the Sakamaki brothers made their way into the limousine, blissfully unaware of Akemi’s state.

It wasn’t until the limousine finally stopped at the manor did Amaya reach out to Akemi one more time. “Hey… are you ok?” Amaya questioned, carefully probing her older sister. Disturbing gifts weren’t anything new to the Sakamakis, everyone gets them at least once every year. One of the things Amaya knew was that Akemi’s reactions were vastly different from Ayato’s exclaims and Kanato’s complaints.

It was still strange to see her older sister put on an impassive face in the face of every girl’s nightmare.

Sapphire blue eyes stare back at Amaya’s. “Yeah, I’m fine. I might go somewhere else to calm down. I’ll see you at dinner?” Amaya’s brows furrowed, “Yeah… okay. Take care. Thanks for the perfume.” Akemi gave her younger sister a smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you some of the sweets, we can eat them for dessert after.” Amaya wanted to protest, and she genuinely did, but deep down she knew Akemi needed time for herself and she and Asa would be like a lighthouse that will guide her back.

“Another stash? There’s more than last year.” Subaru asked, looking over letters and flowers strewn on his bedroom floor. Akemi looks up from the letter in her hand, giving him a strained smile. “Yeah… people have been… well, very determined. I almost feel like a princess.” Akemi replied as she rolled her eyes, folding the letter, and putting it back in its envelope, still tired after eating dessert with Amaya.

“Oi, let me see that.” Subaru urged, taking the letter from Akemi’s fingers, and reading its contents. His brows furrowed in concentration as he read every word, every sentence professing undying love and infatuation for the older vampire. “Tch, you still get this kind of shit?” Subaru sneered at the letter. ���Well, there are no creepy letters so far, so I'm feeling quite lucky if you ask me.” Akemi sighed, “I might jinx it, who knows?”

Taking the letter from Subaru’s hands, Akemi tossed it into the pile at her right, already picking another pink envelope or was it red? It didn't matter in the end whether it was carefully written in calligraphy or stuffed with drugstore candies and spirited with sweet cheap perfume. Akemi would still burn them, it's good for the fireplace.

Akemi couldn't recall how long it took for her to finish reading every letter. She always spent hours of silence whenever she was with Subaru, making her lose track of time. Curious, Akemi looked over at Subaru, slowly dozing off in his coffin, the lid was tossed to the side. She leaned her face closer to look at the younger vampire in front of her, her lips inches away from his forehead.

It felt so intimate. Lounging in Subaru’s room with no one in sight and no one to watch them.

Looking over her shoulder, Akemi watched Subaru’s sleeping form, the lid was pushed aside, showing the younger’s face, he was no longer scowling and looked peaceful. Her hand trailed lower to Subaru’s face, fingers slowly parting his lips. Akemi leaned in closer, and in an instant, her gaze is met with his ruby eyes. It matched perfectly with the flush that bloomed on his cheeks as he discovers the small gap between them.

“You idiot! What are you doing a mmph?!” Before Subaru could finish, Akemi placed a chocolate into his mouth, thrusting her finger inside.

“Why? It wasn’t like I was going to feed you mouth to mouth.” Akemi replied calmly, crawling into his coffin to lie next to Subaru as he watches on with shock in his eyes…

Subaru sits back up, hiding his face from Akemi’s view. “Tch, be serious. Don’t do that to other people, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

“They all disappoint me; it doesn’t matter what I do. They’ll find reasons to hate me.” Akemi huffed, swiping her pink tongue across her lips, the lip balm she wore was already long gone and smudges of chocolate still stuck to the corner of her mouth.

Carefully, Subaru’s hand drifted to Akemi’s face, watching her sure expression contort into confusion as she tilts her head to the side. A pale thumb lingered over her face before it wiped away the chocolate at the corner of her lips. “Tch, since when were you this messy when eating?” Subaru scoffed, still looking out for a way to tease Akemi back for what she did.

In the many decades they spent together, Subaru would have thought he knew Akemi well, at least that was what he hoped for, yet she always catches him off-guard. Akemi’s eyes drifted up to the younger’s face, her confusion melting away into tenderness as she clasped her fingers around Subaru’s hand. Subaru could never describe what he felt at that moment. He was far from a poet, always stumbling on his words and letting his fists talk.

Yet, Akemi can say so much with her eyes alone. Looking at him with so much warmth, only seeing him and him alone.

“Subaru… won’t you take me to the cafe tomorrow?” In an instant, she takes him off guard once more.

“Hah? You already have so many chocolates!” Subaru protested, Akemi pouted and slides her arms around his neck, hovering over the younger vampire’s frame. Subaru could feel the heat radiating from her body alone.

“Pretty please? Most of them have razor blades inside. You just need to accompany me, I’ll pay for our food, my treat.” Akemi promised.

The younger vampire let out a groan, running his hand through his white hair, still trying his face. “... Fine.” He conceded, watching Akemi break into another smile. “You’re so good to me, did you know that.” Akemi mused.

The younger sighs, wrapping his arm around her.” You’ll be the death of me.” Subaru muttered, pressing his lips against Akemi’s forehead.

[rabbitcruiser]

Learn About Butterflies Day

In keeping with the spirit of Learn About Butterflies Day, celebrate by learning a little more about the wide range of butterflies. With over 20,000 types of butterflies worldwide today is the perfect day to learn about butterflies. Their wing spans can range from ½ inch to 11 inches. Did you know that in their adult stage butterflies can live from a week up to a year, depending on the species? Many butterflies migrate over long distances the most famous migrations are those of the Monarch butterfly from Mexico to the northern USA and southern Canada, a distance of about 2500 to 3000 miles. That’s a lot of air miles!

If you need some inspiration about how to celebrate, here are five ideas for you to try:

1. Start a butterfly garden.

One of the best ways to attract butterflies to your yard is to plant nectar-producing flowers that have red, yellow, orange, pink, or purple blossoms. Plant them in a sunny spot in a group so they grow in clusters.

2. Make a butterfly snack.

Fresh fruit is the perfect springtime snack, so use your imagination to whip up a fruity butterfly treat. You can also put a bit of fruit out in your garden for the butterflies to enjoy.

3. Learn something you didn’t know about butterflies.

Did you know that a butterfly can’t fly if its body temperature falls below 86°F? Or that they drink the tears of turtles? And they use their feet to taste?

4. Get crafty.

Grab some card, pipe cleaners and clothes peg and some pom-poms and here’s how you create your own butterfly:

Decorate some card with markers and then spray it with water to create its wings.

Once it dries, wrap a pipe cleaner around the middle of the card.

Glue pom-poms onto the clothespin and clip the clothespin to the cards.

Bend the pipe cleaner to make the antennae.

5. Visit your local zoo.

If in doubt learn from the experts. Heading to your local zoo and talking to the keepers that look after these amazing creatures from caterpillar to larvae and then to butterfly. They will be able to show you just how amazing these creatures are.

Source

Observed annually, March 14th is National Learn About Butterflies Day.  Spring and summer are just right around the corner, so it is a good time to take a few minutes and learn something new about butterflies and appreciate their beauty.

Butterflies need our help to survive as they rely on flowers and other natural sources for survival.  We can help them by planting more flowers.

There are more than 20,000 types of butterflies worldwide

Their wing spans can range from ½ inch to 11 inches.

Butterflies in their adult stage can live from a week to nearly a year, depending on the species.

Many butterflies migrate over long distances.  Particularly famous migrations are those of the Monarch butterfly from Mexico to the northern USA and southern Canada, a distance of about 2500 to 3000 miles.

Source

[taybatwo2]

A Barbie Mystery…?

I received this gorgeous Barbie 12 Days of Christmas as an early surprise Christmas present from my mom (she bought it, unfortunately, from an eBay reseller-who never opened any part of the package- as she was not prepared for the cluster that is Mattel Creations). This was both of our first “vintage” styled silkstone Barbies (and we can see why people collect them). We opened the boxes one-a-day, and have stumbled across a couple mysteries that we are hoping someone from the Barbie/doll collecting community can answer. She came with a completely different (and better) outfit than her gold and white party dress. It was still sealed, fit well, and had the Barbie Signature tags inside (although a bit frazzled on the edges). She also came with a different (cheaper and uglier) platter than what is shown on the back of the box.

She came with this cute red robe/jacket instead, and these little Pom-Pom shoes (those poms are fabric).

It is mostly lined, but does have several little stains on the lower left hand corner.

A close up of her shoes (I forgotten how TINY these style of shoes are) and the inside of her PJ top (you can see how the tag is unraveling on the sides).

And her (very cute) pj set. It all fits well and was also packaged in a separate plastic bag. Her shoes were also in their own bags too.

Her unusual looking platter and napkins (that were also not shown on the back).

And a close up of this ugly thing. It isn’t sealed smoothly and the back looked weird (this was my first heads up of something strange going on, but I didn’t double check the back until today).

This is what the back of the box shows to be inside. Everything else looks legit and matches up. Is this the case of someone switching out pieces they wanted (but the box and everything was sealed). A manufacturing error?? Does this pj set and shoes normally come with a different doll!? I didn’t ask Mattel, as it was bought on eBay and not through them. My mom said she’d try to contact the seller.

Please spread this around. I am curious and would love to pick the brain of anyone who is also curious and knowledgable on the subject.

[divyeshd]

Hydrangea Varieties Explained: Choosing the Perfect Type for Your Event

Hydrangeas must be the most loved flower in the world, mainly because of their fruitful blossoms and varieties. You would need several pieces of help to choose the best one for your arrangement of flowers because of the various kinds of hydrangea varieties. Let's discuss all kinds of hydrangeas here, their unique qualities, and some steps to choose the best one for your special occasion.

Understanding Hydrangea Varieties

Hydrangeas come in different species, but they are generally divided into mophead, panicle, smooth, mountain, and oakleaf. Each type gives your floral designs a different look.

1. Mophead Hydrangeas

Characteristics: Mophead hydrangeas, technically known as Hydrangea macrophylla, are the most familiar type. These have significant, round flower clusters in the form of pom-poms. They have a wonderful array of vibrant colors, which may range from blue to pink and purple. The color usually determines the soil's acidity, so the plant thrives in blue for acid and pink for alkaline soil.

Best for : These mophead hydrangeas are best used in romantic events, ideally weddings and anniversary parties. They have a soft, elegant look that is passed on through most bouquets and centerpieces. Because of their cheerful look, they can also be used in a much less formal occasion such as a garden party.

2. Panicle Hydrangeas

Characteristics: Hydrangea paniculata produces long, pyramidal clusters up to a foot long. Blooming white, they age to pink. Mophead types are less tolerant of direct sunlight and require a narrower climate range for optimum growth.

Best for: Panicle hydrangeas are great for outdoor functions, especially in the hot summer months. They are robust, enabling them to be used in larger arrangements, such as tall centerpieces or focal points in garden environments. Their somewhat structured shape also works well for contemporary arrangements.

3. Smooth Hydrangeas

Characteristics: Features These are Hydrangea arborescens, commonly known as smooth hydrangeas. They have round, soft flower clusters, typically white when they appear but may turn green later. A leading variety under this category is 'Annabelle,' offering large, rounded flower heads.

Best for: These hydrangeas are ideal for country-themed weddings and outdoor parties. Such an understated yet gentle beauty harmonizes with other garden flowers while blending into tastefully more straightforward arrangements.

4. Mountain Hydrangeas

Characteristics: Mountain hydrangeas, or Hydrangea serrata, are smaller and more delicate-looking than their larger, showier 'big sister' mophead cousins. They often have a lace-cap form of flowers, where larger flowers surround a central mass of smaller flowers. Depending on soil type, flowers are available in a wide range of blue and pink shades.

Best for: Mountain hydrangeas are suitable for small gatherings and flower arrangements. Their refined look gives a tasteful background to bridal bouquets or flower crowns. They also do great in shaded garden settings, thriving in cooler climates.

5. Oakleaf Hydrangeas

Characteristics: Hydrangea quercifolia, commonly known as oakleaf hydrangeas, has leaves in an oak-like shape. The flower head is more conical than other species, but the color may run the gamut from white to pink. One of the highlights of these plants is their stunning fall foliage, which reddens intensely to orange.

Best for: Hydrangeas of this type are best suited for autumn-themed or rustic wedding themes. Their fantastic foliage comes of great interest during the seasons and is thus perfect for outdoor weddings during fall. These flowers come in formal and informal design arrangements to give your flowers an entirely new texture.

Choosing the Right Hydrangea for Your Event

Several factors come into play when choosing a hydrangea variety for the event. Here are some key considerations to help you make the best choice:

1. Event Theme

Mophead hydrangeas are perfect for a more traditional or romantic theme. The panicle hydrangeas might be right for a modern or contemporary setup because of their structured forms. The smooth or oakleaf hydrangeas suit a rustic or vintage theme because of their natural and organic form.

2. Color Palette

Hydrangeas come in so many colors that you must decide what colors to use in your scheme. Look for mopheads or smooth hydrangeas in light pinks or whites to get soft pastels. You may like rich blues or deep purples to get a bold and vibrant color scheme. You may also want to consider how hydrangea colors will play with other flowers in your arrangement.

3. Seasonal Availability

Depending on the season, some hydrangea options may be more available at different times than others. In summer, you might have access to panicle hydrangeas; mophead hydrangeas are often more readily available during late spring and early summer. It is always best to consult your florist about seasonal options and availability.

4. Arrangement Style

Consider the style of your centerpieces. Panicle hydrangeas work well for large, dramatic centerpieces because they have sturdy stems and height. Mountain or smooth hydrangeas provide a softer touch to a more delicate, smaller arrangement. When choosing, ask yourself if you'd like a cascading effect or a cleaner, more structured look.

5. Maintenance and Longevity

Hydrangeas can be susceptible to a certain length of time in an arrangement. Some hydrangeas hold well for a long time, particularly mophead types, but smooth and oakleaf types will wilt rapidly if their care is ignored. If you wish for your arrangements to last for the entire duration of the event, then you will want to use those known to be long-lasting, and you'll want to have a plan to keep them hydrated.

6. Personal Preference

Last but not least, think of personal preference. Perhaps you only like certain hydrangea varieties or have a soft spot for a specific color. If so, it should be represented in your decision. After all, the event is almost all about you.

Conclusion

Hydrangeas present many possibilities to anyone to enrich their special occasion arrangements with flowers. With knowledge of the several varieties and their characteristics, it is easy to determine the perfect hydrangea flower bouquets from your event theme, color palette, and style.

Whether you opt for the romantical beauty of mophead hydrangeas, the formal beauty of panicle varieties, or the old-fashioned charm of oakleaf hydrangeas, hydrangeas will undoubtedly add a touch to your event and leave solid and memorable impressions.

Take your time, inquire with the professional florist about your options, and make sure your hydrangea arrangements are nothing less than spectacular. With the right choice, you can celebrate your special occasion amidst the beauty and elegance that hydrangeas uniquely provide.

[kidsbirthdaydecoration]

How to Decorate for a Birthday on a Tight Schedule

Decorating for a birthday can be a daunting task, especially when you're pressed for time. However, with a little creativity and strategic planning, you can create a memorable birthday celebration decoration that will impress your guests and honor the celebrant. This guide will provide you with practical tips and efficient strategies to achieve stunning birthday decoration results even on the tightest of schedules.

Choose a theme for your birthday party decoration from Take Rent Pe, an online provider of rental decoration settings, to make it even more memorable and spectacular. Choose from the more than 100+ décor set options available, and let the experts handle all aspects of the event planning.

Plan Ahead

The key to successful birthday decoration is planning. Even if you're short on time, taking a few minutes to outline your vision will save you a lot of stress. Decide on a theme or color scheme for your birthday party decorations. This will help you stay focused and make quick decisions when shopping for supplies. Popular themes like superheroes, princesses, or a favorite TV show can easily guide your choices for decorations, table settings, and party favors.

Make a Shopping List

Once you have a theme, create a shopping list of all the necessary items for your decoration. This list should include:

• Balloons

• Streamers

• Tablecloths

• Plates, cups, and napkins

• Centerpieces

• Party favors

By having a clear list, you can quickly gather everything you need without making multiple trips to the store. To save even more time, consider shopping online where you can easily find themed birthday party decorations that can be delivered to your door.

Prioritize Key Areas

When decorating on a tight schedule, it’s essential to prioritize key areas of your venue. Focus on high-impact spots such as the entrance, the cake table, and the main party area. These locations are where guests will spend the most time and where your birthday celebration decoration will make the biggest impression.

Entrance

Create a welcoming entrance with a balloon arch or a banner that sets the tone for the party. This is the first thing guests will see, so make it festive and inviting.

Cake Table

The cake table is often the focal point of any birthday party. Use a themed tablecloth, a festive backdrop, and a beautiful arrangement of balloons and streamers. Don’t forget to place the cake in the center, surrounded by party favors and any other themed decorations you have.

Main Party Area

For the main party area, use a combination of balloons, streamers, and hanging decorations to create a lively atmosphere. Ensure there are enough seating arrangements and that the area is comfortable for guests to mingle and enjoy the celebration.

Utilize Quick and Easy Decoration

 Ideas When time is of the essence, choose birthday decoration ideas that are quick and easy to implement. Here are a few options:

Balloons

Balloons are versatile and can instantly transform any space. Use helium balloons to create floating clusters or tie them to chairs for a festive look. For a quicker option, scatter regular balloons around the floor or use balloon weights to keep them in place.

Streamers

Streamers are inexpensive and easy to hang. Drape them across ceilings, around doorways, or use them as a backdrop for the cake table. You can even twist them for a more dynamic look.

DIY Decorations

If you're crafty, consider making some DIY decorations. Simple projects like paper pom-poms, garlands, or personalized banners can add a unique touch to your birthday celebration decoration without taking too much time. Opt for Multi-purpose Decorations.

Choose decorations that serve multiple purposes to save time and effort. For example, use tablecloths and tableware that match your theme. Not only do they add to the decor, but they also make cleanup easier. Party favors can also double as decorations if you arrange them creatively around the party area.

Enlist Help

Don’t hesitate to ask for help. Enlist family members or friends to assist with decorating tasks. Delegate specific areas or tasks to each person to ensure everything gets done quickly and efficiently. Having a team will make the process faster and more enjoyable.

Keep It Simple

Remember, sometimes less is more. Focus on a few key decorations that have a big impact rather than trying to overdecorate every inch of the venue. A well-placed banner, a few clusters of balloons, and a nicely set cake table can create a beautiful setting without overwhelming you or your budget.

Use Pre-made Kits

To further streamline the process, consider using pre-made birthday party decorations kits. These kits often include a variety of coordinated items such as banners, balloons, and tableware, all designed to match a specific theme. Using a kit can save you the hassle of trying to find matching items individually, ensuring a cohesive look with minimal effort.

Set a Time Limit

When working on a tight schedule, it’s important to set a time limit for each decorating task. Allocate specific time blocks for tasks such as setting up the cake table, hanging streamers, and arranging balloons. This will help you stay on track and ensure that you complete everything before the guests arrive.

Final Touches

Before the party starts, do a quick walkthrough to ensure everything is in place. Check that all decorations are securely attached and that the main areas are tidy. Make any final adjustments to ensure your birthday decoration is perfect.

Conclusion

Decorating for a birthday on a tight schedule is entirely possible with a bit of planning and smart choices. By focusing on key areas, utilizing quick and easy decoration ideas, and enlisting help, you can create a stunning celebration decoration that will impress your guests and make the celebrant feel special. Remember, the goal is to create a joyful and memorable atmosphere, so keep it simple, stay organized, and most importantly, have fun with it!

[herrymccourt]

An Introduction to Cheerleading Pom Balls

Cheerleading pom balls are an essential piece of equipment for cheer teams. These colorful and sparkly poms add visual interest to cheer routines and help cheerleaders direct spectators' attention. With different sizes and styles available, it's important to understand the options to select the best poms for your squad. This guide covers everything you need to know about cheerleading pom balls.

What Are Pom Balls?

Pom balls are clusters of thin plastic strips attached to a handle. Cheerleaders use pom balls during routines to enhance visual aspects of their performance. Pom balls come in a variety of colors and incorporate glitter, sequins, ribbons, and other decorations. Shaking pom balls during routines draws the audience's eyes to the cheer squad and helps cheerleaders accentuate movements and direct focus.

Cheerleading squads may use pom balls throughout an entire routine or just for specific sections. Pom balls allow squads to seamlessly transition between dance moves and cheers. They also enable visually impactful moments like Pom Passes when cheerleaders exchange poms in sync.

Pom Ball Sizes

Pom balls come in four standard-size options:

Extra Small - 2-4 inches wide

Small - 4-6 inches wide

Medium - 6-9 inches wide

Large - 9-12 inches wide

Extra-small and small poms work well for younger cheerleaders with limited wrist and arm strength. Medium poms are the most common, as they provide good visibility without being overly large or heavy. Advanced and older cheerleaders often opt for large poms.

Consider both cheerleaders' ages and abilities along with the size of performance venues when selecting pom sizes. Larger poms make sense for big stages, while smaller poms suit sideline cheers or smaller events. Mixing pom sizes can produce an appealing visual effect during group routines.

Pom Ball Handles

Pom handles allow cheerleaders to grip and shake the poms without restricting wrist movement. Handles come in three main styles:

Wraparound - A single strip that wraps around the palm

Loop - A fabric loop that slides over the wrist

Rod - A plastic rod with foam or rubber hand grips

Younger cheerleaders often prefer the security of loop handles. However, wraparound and rod handles allow for more versatile hand movements. Chunky rod handles, with their added color and sparkle, also enhance the visual impact of poms.

Consider handling comfort and versatility when selecting pom balls for your squad. Also, make sure handles comply with competition guidelines if poms will be used at cheer events.

Pom Ball Designs and Materials

Today's pom balls showcase an array of dazzling colors and designs. Glittery metallic poms in team colors are popular for their crowd appeal. Poms with color fading or ombre effects offer dynamic visuals when shaken. Multi-colored poms provide pops of eye-catching vibrance.

Pom balls consist of thin plastic strips measuring 3-8 inches long. Premium poms use polyethylene plastic for maximum durability and movement. Budget poms may use cheaper plastics that tear easily. Polyethylene terephthalate (PET) plastic resists heat better than other plastics when poms are decorated using hot glueing techniques.

Sequins, glitter, and other decorations are either woven into pom strips or affixed using fabric glue. More intricate poms incorporate additional visual elements like ribbons, tassels, feathers, and LED lights. Watch batteries often power light-up poms.

When selecting pom balls, go for quality over quantity for the best durability and visual appeal. Well-made poms with premium materials command higher prices but maintain their vibrancy over many cheer seasons.

Buying Quality Pom Balls

With the wide range of pom ball options available, focus on these factors when purchasing:

Material Quality - Go for poms made with durable polyethylene plastic strips rather than cheaper alternatives.

Construction - Poms should have tightly packed strips and securely attached decorations. Look for sturdy wraparound or rod handles.

Design - Make sure pom colors and patterns align with your squad's style and uniforms.

Comfort - Pom handles should fit cheerleaders' hands and allow flexible wrist movement.

Durability - Higher-priced poms from reputable brands tend to withstand more wear and tear.

Purpose - Sideline poms can be basic and budget-friendly. Competition poms should be vibrant, distinctive, and intricately decorated.

View pom options in person before purchasing whenever possible. Buying poms well ahead of the cheer season allows time for exchanges if needed.

Caring for Your Pom Balls

With proper care and maintenance, quality pom balls can last through many cheer seasons. Follow these pom care tips:

Storage - Keep poms in a dry area away from direct sunlight when not in use to prevent fading.

Cleaning - Use a damp cloth to wipe pom handles clean. Avoid submerging poms in water, as this can damage materials.

Inspections - Check for loose strips, torn handles, or missing decorations regularly. Make repairs immediately before the damage worsens.

Prevention - Remind cheerleaders to avoid throwing poms or letting them drag on the ground. Store in protective bags when not in use.

Off-Season - Clean poms thoroughly and remove any batteries from light-up handles before off-season storage to prevent corrosion.

Taking proper care of pom balls saves on continual pom replacements. With the right maintenance, your squad's poms can handle the wear and tear of many cheer seasons.

Using Pom Balls to Amp Up Your Routine

Pom balls provide the perfect accent to take your cheer squad's routines to the next level. 

Take advantage of their visual impact by integrating poms throughout your choreographed performances.

Here are some tips for effectively showcasing poms:

Open with a lively pom-shaking dance sequence to grab the crowd's focus from the start.

Use poms to accentuate sharp arm movements and add dynamic accents to jumps and kicks.

Feature sections of rapid pom pass across or down the squad to wow judges and spectators.

Add head tosses, vertical pom waves, or other flashy visuals to drive energy up ahead of big dismounts and stunts.

Shake poms in opposing circles during transitions between dance and cheer elements.

Incorporate poms creatively in formations and transitions to maximize visual appeal.

With their sound, motion, and sparkle, pom balls are the perfect tool for amplifying your squad's routines. Take time to integrate poms strategically in ways that capitalize on their visual impact. Conclusion

In conclusion, cheerleading pom balls are a vital component in enhancing the visual appeal of cheer routines. By understanding the various sizes, handle styles, materials, and designs, squads can select the best poms to suit their needs and elevate their performances. Proper care and thoughtful integration of pom balls ensure they remain vibrant and impactful throughout many cheer seasons, helping to captivate and energize audiences.

[abiealiefaziz]

🏠 DIJUAL RUMAH NEW DESAIN SIAP HUNI Dekat Jungle Land Sentulcity

➖➖➖➖➖➖

Cluster Taman Cluster Taman Udayana 8 no 11 Sentul city Bogor, Jawa Barat

-----------------------------

https://keyproperti.wordpress.com/2024/05/27/%f0%9f%8f%a0-rumah-new-desain-2-lantai-mewah-udayana-sentul-bogor/

___________________

🔸 HARGA : Rp 1,500,000,000,-

🔸SPESIFIKASI :

Luas tanah : 105m²

Luas bangunan : 150m²

Kamar tidur 3+1

Kamar mandi 2 +1

Surat : SHM

■■■■■■■■■■

🆔 Keunggulan :

- Hunian asri dan sejuk dengan view pemandangan alam best view gunung pancar

- 2 menit ke Junggleland, Hotel neo+, BCA Training centre, ASTON Sentul

- 5 menit ke CBD Sentul, AEON Mall, Toll Gate jagorawi, Universitas Trisakti, Giant Exstra, stasiun LRT

🛡 *FASILITAS & DETAIL :*

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

🔸️ Berbukit & Berembun

🔸️ Kontur Flat Di Kaki Gunung

🔸️ Under Market

🔸️ Dikelilingi Bukit & Gunung

🔸️ Design Classic Modern

🔸️ VIEW Gunung Pancar Depan Mata

🔸️ CLUSTER SUDAH JADI

🔸️ DI JANTUNG SENTULCITY

🔸️ HARGA BU ASAL LAKU

💢*KELEBIHAN LOKASI*💢

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

➡ Sejuk, hijau, asri dingin juga Cluster elite

sudah jadi nuansa alamnya.

➡ Kondisi rapih bagus siap jd huni atau Indent

➡ Pondasi Pembatas Borpile 12m

➡ Dekat AEON MALL, STA, Universitas

Trisakti, RS EMC, POM dll.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

🛡 Support By :

IG/FB. : "CariRumahIndonesia"

Twitter. : @Carirumahindo

YouTube. : https://www.youtube.com/@Carirumahindonesia

================

👨‍💻 Abie Alief

📱 0816 579 115

©ari ®umah Indonesia

www.propertysentulcity.com

www.carirumahindonesia.com

==============

#RumahDijual #GardenHouse #RainbowHills #Golf #Emerald #Lippo #Sentulcity #RumahBogor #Properti #Investasi #likeforlike #LCI #BangunRumah #Kontraktor #architecture #RumahMinimalis #Desain #Investor #SharingProfit #BisnisProperti #CRI #Udayana #CariRumahIndonesia #Followforfollow #Sirkuit