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#the decadence! the floof!
kobochasketch · 1 year
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A cool Lady rockin’ a fur coat! (inspired by @fabdante‘s lovely Devil May Cry art of all the various fun alternate outfits and fabulous fur coats!!!) ;D
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wildstorm312 · 3 months
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before wild was my fursona, they were a warriors oc! heres a warriors-ified version of their current design!!
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wundersmith-squall · 4 months
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ramble about your Ezra Squall redemption arc please?
Absolutely- id be very happy to! I'm quite aware that im about to sound like this:
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but you asked so this is what you signed up for /j
Soooooooo it basically wormed its way into my head because of the one time where Squall said something like 'We're wundersmiths we take all of the blame and none of the credit' and I was like, okay sir are you speaking from experience? What was the 'credit' of your actions? And also the mention of the shared enemy, which I at the time took as meaning partially something in the republic that threatens Nevermoor, and partially something to do with the system, the Wunderous Society and like, all the people in charge who are against wundersmiths and are trying to hold Mog back.
Along with these two things, I'd like to think that 100+ years of banishment are long enough to rethink your actions and become a better person.
So, I'll explain it in a way that wont take an entire essay to write out. Basically it goes in my head that, Courage Square was, at least partially an accident, and over 100 years the story got skewed, and the current population turned against Ezra and the Wundersmiths, while the population at the time knew how, Wundersmiths ultimately were trying to help Nevermoor. Courage Square was bad, which is why Ezra was banished, but he wasnt killed. After a tragedy, it would be expected that he'd be punished, but at the time, the Republic as we know it didnt exist, and so being banished out there was a very bad fate, but it was definitely better than death.
Ezra went through a, lot of bad mental states during the first few decades of his banishment, but as he grew older, he came to terms with both his past actions and his current situation, though he still feels guilty about it.
In my head, the Wundersmiths were originally established to protect Nevermoor from the weird creatures of the darkness that the Wunderous Society takes care of now. Those creatures are attracted to Wunder. When Ezra was banished from Nevermoor, there were no longer any Wundersmiths in there, and so WunSoc had to step up and find a way to cover for him. Meanwhile, Ezra, who still loves Nevermoor, establishes Squall Industries, partially to improve conditions in the Republic and partially to provide a bigger, brighter beacon of wunder to attract the majority of the dangerous creatures to a place where he could still handle them. In this same thought, the Hunt of Smoke and Shadow werent something he created, but a group of these dangerous creatures that he managed to tame.
On the same subject are the other cursed children, those who, gather wunder but are unfortunately dont have the gift to control it. The creatures of the darkness, who chase wunder, hunt down these children to take the wunderous energy from them, which they dont survive. Ezra does his best in this situation, but one man can only do so much, and the creatures are relentless.
When he first discovers Morrigan, he's not exactly sure what to do. He tries to just get her as an apprentice through the usual means in the republic, but after a certain mad ginger got in the way he sent the Hunt after her, himself being busy trying to help the other cursed children, but we all know that that attempt didnt work. Ezra, knowing about the wunder critical-mass gather-too-much-without-using-it-makes-bad-things-happen thing, so he used the gossamer to get back into Nevermoor.
Having to enter and view Nevermoor again, even though not physically, took a bit of a toll on him, plus having to interact with someone new while being himself, which is not something he's had to do in a long time. He's also never, had to teach anyone before.
From there, I imagine he goes from frustrated and angry, to irritated but starting to get attached to Mog, to actually being a genuinely good teacher (aka the floof you saw in my drawing, who doesnt sleep nearly enough but still tries his best to be a good person), who is Tired™ and also just as chaotic as Jupiter when he wants to be.
Thank you for listening to my ramble- I can happily expand on anything if anyone happens to like this train of thought. I have further specifics on, basically everything, but this is a solid overview.
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thecutpriceguignol · 5 months
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A decadent amount of belly floof
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changeling-fae · 5 months
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So I have an entirely indulgent headcanon that my main Tav/Durge, Nym, ends up accidentally getting knocked up by Haarlep during their encounter and now she has a cambion son that looks like Raphael’s kid that she and Astarion raise in the newly renovated Cazador manor.
Haarlep didn’t intend to knock her up and my explanation is Nym is the daughter of an abyssal cambion herself and the great granddaughter of Graz’zt, the demon prince of pleasure, decadence, and unlimited self indulgence, as well as the patron of corrupt authorities and tyrants. So basically her biology as a descendant of the abyssal forces meant shenanigans happen around other incubi/succubi that would have to be taken into account but Haarlep didn’t know and she didn’t know that that would happen.
She’s super pissed about being knocked up (can’t have any consequence relatively free fun it seems) but she actually likes kids and is a protective mom. She has a really weird love-hate relationship with Raphael already (that I’ll probably go over in a future post) and this just complicates things even further.
Her weird biology is also the reason she survives the birth because I say so.
Kid actually turns out pretty ok given his circumstances. He’s probably teetering on the chaotic good/neutral end of things. She and Astarion are the ones who actually raise him ‘cuz I can’t see Haarlep caring all that much; random offspring are probably par for the course with devils, especially incubi and succubi.
Nym has an extreme hatred of her mother and complicated feelings around her own heritage so she’d be super protective over her son and not wanting any of that nonsense to affect him.
Doesn’t stop her from visiting Raphael (and Haarlep) frequently because again, a messy and complicated relationship and situation.
I headcanon his ears are bit longer than shown in the pic (though not as long as hers) and he has his mother’s floof tipped tail with hidden stinger. Does not get her cloven hooves though. Nym had been born with wings so he definitely gets wings too.
Astarion makes for a pretty good, if at times overly indulgent and chaotic, dad.
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thrdplanet · 4 months
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the most decadent chest floof…….
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altocat · 7 months
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Hope it’s been an awesome day! I need some random giggles/floof so I’m just coming right here 😂
Ok! So…. Angeal, Sephiroth, & Genesis are all sitting on the roof of HQ when a shooting star zips by. What is each of their wishes? :3
Angeal: At the moment? Thirty thousand Gil. Sephiroth and Genesis were squabbling in public and accidentally broke a rare Wutai-imported vase. Angeal is responsible for these two idiots so now his wallet needs a major boost. Had the dumbass duo NOT been involved, he'd like a dog. And one that Shinra would sanction to be his personal companion.
Sephiroth: Mommy. Hojo getting hit by a bus. Probably an actual vacation in the near future, and one that he doesn't feel guilty taking advantage of. He'd like to go back to Costa del Sol again with Genesis and Angeal. Those are the rare times when he feels he is truly happy. And the only times when he can truly relax.
Genesis: The most predictable choice--unparalleled glory and fame. His imagination sparks a rather pathetically cliche vision of himself in a shiny mansion rolling in money and complete hedonistic decadence, his worshippers fanning him and grovelling at his feet. How very mature.
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windsweptinred · 3 months
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10 Characters/10 Fandoms /10 Tags
Thank you for the tag @two-hands-toward-the-sun, this took me on a deep delve of my fandom past! Time to roll out my gaggle of glorious bastards again...
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1. Ken Ichijouji - Digimon 02
Babies first blorbo. Puppy kicking, whip weilding antagonist who giveth not a shiteth. With a soul as black as his gloriously groomed locks. Who, by the power of love is transformed into the soggiest little puddle of twink you ever did see. Tragic backstory ✔️ A smorgasbord of issues ✔️ A realtionship with their rival/best friend so obbsessive, you're going to have a harder time proving this ship isn't a thing than it is. ✔️ Ken Ichijouji came with everything a young, naive millennial needed to make their first glorious steps into the world of fandom.
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2. Ryou Bakura/Yami Bakura/Theif King Bakura - (Same body, they count as one!) Yu-Gi-Oh
Ryou Bakura - Adorable British cupcake with the soul of a traumatised lovecraftian cultist. Staring into the abyss while having afternoon tea. Gothic horror in a cream knit.
Yami Bakura - Actual murder floof, the walking personification of a horror podcast. In his wake trails body gore, supernatural mystery and gay subtext. Part demon, part Egyptian theif, 100% bringing sexy back. (bonus points: Florence)
Thief King Bakura - Traumatic back story maketh homicidal rogue. Wears red, has a social circle made up of ghosts and snake monsters... Is this not prime husband material?
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3. Starscream - Transformers
Darling little duplicitous second in command of the Decepticons. Not just any 'Little Shit', THE 'Little Shit'. Simulatiously the dumbest and cleverest bot in any room. And that, my friends, takes a particular breed of talent. Negative traits, scheming, petty, fabulous. Postive traits, scheming, petty, fabulous. Repetitive attempts to off Megatron, play of either the power or fore variety. Not sure which, could be both.
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4. Darth Maul/ General Armitage Hux- Star Wars
I will not and cannot choose a favourite between them. Instead, watch with wonder and awe as I neatly compress them into the same blurb...
Sad meow meow with self-worth issues does galactic war crimes to prove 'daddy' wrong. What do you mean my fixation with thwarting my archnemeis can't be classed as a hobby/career goal/life ambition? My voice can launch a thousand ships... Different circumstances, same truth. Such a pathetic little sausage, you'll want to sit them down and feed them soup. But they know atleast 101 ways to kill you with the spoon... So best not risk it.
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5. Crowley - Supernatural
The diabolical king of cunt serving. Me and my athletic calves are doing this right thing for all wrong reasons...And you can't prove other wise! Alignment: Risk it for a biscuit. Four step program to deal with all life's problems: 1: flirt at it, 2: shout at it, 3: throw (please pick your chosen Winchester or, if pushed, tailor) at it. 4:... Yell bollocks and follow with a whiskey chaser.
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6. Desire/Destiny of the Endless - The Sandman
Again, not picking. Desire, my darling little hell kitten. Destiny, my inglorious bastard in brown...
This is my world, you MFs all just live in it!
My emotions... Which I do not have, are the route cause of everyone else's problems.
Ah humanity, the dust bunnies upon which I sneeze.
Even in a glorified bathrobe, I'm still better then you, and you know it.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Dream of the Endless is a f*cking dumb ass.
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7. Remy Lebeau (Gambit) - Xmen, Marvel Comics
Marvel looked at their collection of motley mutant misfits. And realised they had a morally dubious, disaster bi shaped hole to fill... And there Remy Lebeau has been for for 30 slutty, slutty years and counting. Sex in fushia pink spandex. Single handily keeping thievery in Americas top 50 kinks. Slowly exhausting the world's supply of playing cards... Must be considered a traitor to the cause atleast once a decade to keep his street cred. Must be considered a secret Summers brother atleast once a decade to keep his ego in check.
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8. Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) - Batman (DC)
Scythe wielding, reigning and defending Trick or treat world champion since 1941. The physical attributes of a Giacometti sculpture with the rustic aesthetic of the folk horror genre. Grumpy old man syndrome dialed up to eleven. Pets: Craw the crow, Nightmare the raven... Edward Nygma. Built a life manifesto based on a gothic novel... Oh captain, my captain.
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9. Alfie Solomons - Peaky Blinders
All hail the great arisen god of Margate. Who looked upon Tommy Shelby and called him smol. Weilds tomfuckery like a pepper spray straight up the jacksie. Views betrayal as a bonding exercise. Somewhere in his words are the the meaning of life. Still awaiting the lab results as to whether this man is the anthropomorphic personification of chaotic neutral. Not even part of the egg and spoon race. Will still manage to win with a watermelon and a novelty spork.
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10. Elias Bouchard - The Magnus Archives
(art by @felix-krain and @caligosatchel)
Cluedo character brought to life by malevolent eldritch entity for sexy end of the world shinnanigans. I suspect either Proffesor Plum or Reverend Green, professional opinions vary. Maintains the inability to move more than one square at a time when enacting nefarious schemes. Still has a preference for homicide by kitchenware. Comes with all the British, arch dilf energy of an Agatha Cristie villain. Taking the horrors from the hands of privileged elite and unleashing them on unsuspecting white collar workers. Eye, chin and tits first.
Whelp, that's my ten fictional characters/fandoms. Men folk (and Desire) addition. When I say I like them on the morally grey dulux colour chart. I'm not exaggerating. 😅
I'm tagging, at your pleasure @mashumaru @aisalynn @bobbole @tickldpnk8 @writing-for-life @marvagon @missingrache @rriavian @jazzy-a and @ibrithir-was-here
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disgruntled-lifeform · 9 months
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Here we go, fibre haul! You guys ready?
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So all of these lovely bits of floof were purchased from The Fiber Imp.
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The owner is so nice, I thought I'd give them a little shout out so you guys can buy any floof you like the look of here:
Most of the nerdy stuff I am sourcing my info from is a site called NWyarns.com which has great indepth info in the histories of many breeds of sheep and how they became the sheep we have today.
If I grab info from another website then I'll mention it specifically but otherwise this all comes from NWyarns.
Now let's dig in shall we?
First up, we have Rocky Mountain Skies
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This one is commercially dyed and all 100% merino.
Domesticated in Mesopotamia sometime between 11,000 and 9,000 BCE
If you were not select royalty you were pretty much out of luck – there were no legitimate ways for the average sheep farmer to get a prized Merino ram or ewe until about the first decade into the 1800s. However, there were certainly illegitimate ways. Paying someone to smuggle Merino sheep out of Spain offered the chance of a prized ram or ewe. Certainly that is how the U.K. acquired their first Merino sheep (4 rams and 2 ewes), which Sir Robert Banks paid some enterprising business person to smuggle out of Spain via Portugal.
However, more often than not, it appears that the people purchasing Merinos through less than legitimate means during this time frame were either getting scammed or simply provided with any Spanish sheep that smugglers could manage to get out of Spain.
Merino is renowned for its fineness and elasticity, which can be made into woven, knitted, crocheted or felted wool fabrics that can be very comfortably worn directly against the skin. Merino is graded to a variety of micron widths including Superfine (17.6-18.5 microns), Fine or Extrafine (18.6-19.5 microns), Fine Medium (19.6-20.5 microns) and Medium (20.6-22.5 microns). Unless otherwise specified, you will find that most merino available in commercial clothing and most yarns is in the Fine Medium to Medium range. However, even though the Fine Medium and Medium Merino is the most common, it is by no means coarse! 22.5 microns is still quite fine, and extremely comfortable to wear directly against your skin.
Next up is Spellbound
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75% 18.5 Micron Merino / 25% Mulberry Silk
This next bit of info comes from Casper.com:
Mulberry silk comes from the Morus Alba tree.
Originating in China over 5,000 years ago, “sericulture” is the ancient process of spinning silk.
Mulberry silk is made from the cocoon of the Bombyx mori moth. Before metamorphosis, the caterpillar feeds exclusively on the white mulberry leaf.
Smoother and stronger than any other silk in the world, mulberry silk is a textile powerhouse. Famous for its durability and lightweight quality, mulberry silk is able to retain up to a third of its weight in moisture. Because of this, it doesn’t emit a smell when damp and doesn’t need to be left out to dry for a long amount of time, making it relatively easy to manage.
Au Naturel
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Undyed blend of superfine merino, dark brown alpaca, mulberry silk and baby camel.
Alpaca:
Alpacas are in the camelid family -- the same biological family as camels and llamas.  
Although they can be found around the world today, alpacas originated in the Andes mountain range of South America. They are descended from vicuña, a wild camelid native to South America, in the Andes mountain range.  The domestication of the alpaca for fiber and meat began up to 6000 years ago, with the people who lived in the Andes.
Alpaca hairs are hollow, making it a go-to fiber for crafters and manufacturers who are looking for softness with superior insulating properties. It is also surprisingly strong for such a soft, fluffy fiber.
Alpaca fiber comes in various qualities, ranging from fibers nearly as soft and luxurious as cashmere to lower quality fibers with a similar texture to fine wool. Most yarn and spinning fiber available relies on the high quality, fine alpaca. It is more difficult to find coarser alpaca, as there is little demand for it in North America. Alpaca is also hypoallergenic, making it very popular for people with skin sensitivities.
This next bit is from SpinoffMagazine regarding the Bactrian camel:
Bactrian camels have two humps and are found primarily in Mongolia and China.
Bactrians are the source for the soft down we associate with fine camel hair garments. Their fiber naturally sheds and can be combed away or gathered as it falls.
While the website for the Cashmere and Camel Hair Manufacturers states that Bactrian camels produce as much as 17 to 22 pounds of fiber annually, other sources cite amounts as low as 5 pounds. The higher amounts probably include both hair and down.
The outer coat and mane hair is long (12 inches or more) and coarse. It protects the animal from the elements, shedding dirt and water. The fine undercoat is much shorter, averaging 1 to 5 inches long, although it usually measures less than 3 inches in length. Some of the fiber shortness in commercial camel preparations may result from the dehairing process. The micron counts (fiber diameter) for camel fiber have a huge range. While the down averages 20 to 23 microns (similar to Merino wool), it can be as fine as the finest cashmere.
Samples from some United States Bactrian camel hair that had all the outer coat fibers removed ranged from 6 to 120 microns, with most of the sample measuring 18 to 19 microns. Camel hair has some crimp and a small amount of elasticity.
When working with the fiber in batt form (a cloud of carded fiber), I simply peel off thin layers of fiber.
Rovings (strands of carded fiber with a small amount of twist) and top (strands of long fibers in parallel arrangement) require no further preparation although they are sometimes easier to spin when split into narrower strips.
Because the camel fiber is short, thin strands of roving or top will probably drift apart if you try to predraft. You can also prepare for a lightweight yarn by handcarding the down fiber from any form into rolags.
This next bit of fibre is what pulled me into the shop in the first place, Dragon's Breath
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Bamboo:
In the late 19th century, the first semi-synthetic fiber in history was invented – viscose rayon! Known as artificial silk until its rebranding as rayon in 1924, rayon has become a significant part of our fiber landscape.
In the yarn and fiber world, we most frequently run into rayon when it is labeled as bamboo or viscose.
More recently, you can also buy viscose rayon labeled as rose fiber (having been sourced from the cellulose of rose bushes), or even purchase viscose rayon fiber that comes from seaweed.
While these fibers are often advertised as eco-friendly because they come from plants, that is not necessarily the case.
It has had a history of adverse health effects on the workers involved in its manufacture right up to the present day.
A short and somewhat abbreviated version of viscose rayon production goes something like this.
All rayon begins with pure cellulose. This cellulose is treated with a caustic soda, and goes through a number of curing processes and chemical treatments, including a process called Xanthanation in which it is mixed with carbon disulfide. The resulting material is dried and ground into a powder, and is dissolved in yet another caustic solution to form the viscose, the viscous solution from which viscose rayon receives its name. Allowed to stand for a period of time, the viscose solution is strained and then extruded through spinnerets, which land in a bath of sulfuric acid, forming rayon fiber. The fiber is then washed to remove any residual chemicals and make it safe for the wearer.
By the time rayon fiber and fabric hits the market, there are no traces of any chemicals that could harm the person wearing it. The same can’t necessarily be said for the factory workers, either in the past or today.
They go into more detail if you want to dig in further but I will need to research more myself before I commit to further bamboo purchases.
I will continue this in part 2!
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ipsen · 4 months
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Blank Canvas 20
THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!! VERY EXCITED AND THANKS ALL FOR READING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Read on AO3. content warning: sexual content Summary: The world keeps changing. Word Count: 6536 Chapter 19 Master Post
“After nearly a decade of victims, the Torso— revealed to be longtime taxi driver Karao Saeki— is dead. His body was found in a river in the 17th ward, stabbed to death by an unknown assailant with his eyes pried out of his skull. The Washuu Task Force is unable to determine anything else at the time of reporting.
“In addition, tapes of Saeki communicating with Kousei Kaiko, CEO of Kaiko Industries, have surfaced from a raid of his home. The details will have to wait, however, as sorting out the relevant tapes will take some time, or so claims Koutarou Amon, a lawyer and one of the survivors of the Priest’s orphanage.
“In other news, Sen Takatsuki is holding a press conference today to announce her new work: a graphic novel in collaboration with an unknown artist…”
———
“Listen, Sauce,” Hide stared at Haise from the living room, “I think the suit is more than enough.”
“I-I know!” Haise was still in the bathroom, his hands full of gel and his gaze boring a hole into their mirror. “I just— I should make an effort for this! It’s a press conference for the book— er, comic— no, I mean—!” He sighed. “You know what I mean; it’s important!”
“If you say so!” Hide put up his hands in defense. “Frankly, you look ridiculous, but that’s just me.”
“Hina did this for me for Red Tongues! I-It works!”
“Cool! Still ridiculous.”
Touka’s laugh rang from the pantry.
“T-Touka!”
A month had passed since the incident with the Torso, making it December. After another week’s worth of recovery, Haise was discharged from Taiwa, and he and Sen finally finished their work: The Folly of the Hierophants. Sen asked him multiple times if it was too on the nose, but he reminded her that people don’t know about V like she did.
To kick things off, Shiono and Shoeisha arranged a press conference for the day. It would be Haise and Sen’s first public appearance together, so they had to make it count. At least, that’s what Haise thought of the whole thing.
Not only that, but the news of Kaiko Industries’ possible connection to the Torso was being spread like wildfire; once the story hit the shelves, it was going to fan those flames.
“That’s the idea, at least,” Sen had told him. “But you know the public; a little too stupid for their own good. There’s a brilliant mind among them every now and then, sure, but plucking them out from the masses is always troublesome.” He remembered her looking him up and down then. “Sometimes, though, it’s worth it.”
The memory made him shiver, but it also reinforced his resolve. He had to make sure he was presentable for her sake.
After ten more minutes, he shut the bathroom door, making some minor adjustments to his hair, which he had slicked back. To accompany it, he was wearing a simple black suit and matching tie— the only ‘fancy’ thing in his possession. Hopefully, it would be enough.
Touka peeked out from the kitchen, a peeled banana in her hand. “Wow,” she whistled. “Not bad.”
“Meh,” Hide said. “I still think the hair’s too much. None of that signature Sauce floof, y’know?”
She smacked him lightly on the head. “I think the effort will be appreciated.”
“Thank you, Touka,” Haise said, nodding at her in approval. “I think so, too.”
“Gasp! Is our boy being sassy with me?” Hide’s mouth hung open, a hand on his chest. “You hang out with that Sen girl too much, young man! Respect your roommate!”
Haise laughed. “Sorry, sorry… Maybe it’s the nerves.”
“Oh, yeah; this thing’s gonna be on TV, huh?” Hide fetched the remote. “When was it, again?”
“This afternoon, but you don’t have to watch it; Chie must have something for you to do, especially with the other news that’s been going on.”
The two of them, as its collectors, were also overseeing its distribution with Tatara and the rest of Chì Shé, which was apparently more than a theater company.
Hide waved him off. “She wants a bit of a challenge, at least for today.”
It was weird to Haise that Hide was part of an underground effort to collect information on V. Though, given Chie’s ‘job’, it wasn't exactly weird, but the fact that Hide had worked in close contact with Sen right under Haise’s nose was baffling. He had discovered a side of his best friend that he would have never found out about thanks to— wait a second.
“Hide, did you know about Sen’s connection to…” he gestured vaguely— “everything when you signed me up for my job?”
His roommate looked over, confused. “What?”
Touka rolled her eyes. “C’mon, don’t be stupid. If you two were working together on V stuff, then wouldn’t that mean you knew each other?”
“Oh, that? No, we were working anonymously through Chie,” he explained. “Very sensitive information, y’know, and remember the part where I travel the world? Don’t want people knowing my face or name, right? We actually only figured each other out because I signed you up!”
Touka snickered. “So it was sheer dumb luck?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Hide shook his head. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”
“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair with a smirk. “Looks like Mr. Nagachika’s finally cracked, Sasaki.”
Hide opened his mouth to retort, but stopped when he saw Haise smiling. “Don’t do me like this, man.”
“Sorry, sorry…” Haise waved his hand about in a poor attempt at stifling laughter. “It’s just nice to know that even you’re human, Hide.”
“Uh, duh? I am extremely human! I have the proper circuit boards and everything!”
Haise laughed again, then headed for the door. “I gotta go now before I’m late. See you later!”
“I’m still right about the hair, by the way!” Hide called just before the door shut.
After a few ID check-ins with some vaguely familiar guards, Haise found his way into the back room of the building the conference was held at. Sen was waiting for him there, and she was beautiful. She wore a black turtleneck shirt, a blue flared skirt with gold patterning near the hem below her knees, and a cardigan faintly patterned with tiger lilies. Her hair was bound in a single ponytail gathered on one of her shoulders.
“Well, well, well; someone’s dressed up,” she commented upon seeing him arrive.
Haise rubbed his neck. “I-It is a conference, right?” He showed himself off a bit, albeit hesitantly. “Do you… like it?”
“Hm…”
She came up to him and studied him. Her eyes roamed his body, and at some points, he wondered if she was mentally undressing him. He didn’t mind the idea, and was rather used to it now, but he still swallowed while she adjusted his tie and brushed his shoulder. She smelled good, he idly noted, but that was always true.
“And lastly—” she reached up and roughly messed with his hair, ruining a half-hour’s worth of work — “there! Perfect.”
“H-Hey, I worked hard on that…!” he protested, even though he was laughing.
“You don’t have the face for it, sadly.” Sen shrugged and smiled. “I prefer you like this: all wild and messy.”
His spiteful side wanted to punch Hide the next time he saw him.
“Well, in that case—” Haise took her hair tie, making her breath hitch, and gently pulled it off— “that makes two of us.”
Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and she instantly turned scarlet. Recovering quickly, though, she pushed him with a chuckle.
Just then, Shiono appeared from the front. “Oh, Sasaki! Great timing; they just finished getting ready. You can come up whenever you’re ready.”
She fanned out her freshly loosened hair. “Oh, joy… Ready, Haise?”
He felt his stomach churn at the reminder of reality. “Not really, no…”
“Oh, hush— you’ll be fine.” She linked their arms together to reassure him. It worked… sort of. “Smile at the cameras, speak only when spoken to, and try to look straight ahead as much as you can, ‘kay?”
He nodded stiffly. “O-Okay…”
Even with those instructions, the flash of a camera as soon as they stepped out nearly blindsided him. Meanwhile, Sen smiled with familiar grace and practiced ease at the small crowd. He tried to copy her by waving himself, even though he was mostly squinting at the lights that were already beginning to hurt his eyes. He wished his glasses offered protection; this was gonna get bad fast.
There was nowhere to sit, which he expected, but Haise’s stomach sank to the floor when he thought of how long this might take. Combined with the sheer amount of people here, he was cruelly reminded that he was, in fact, dating a celebrity.
Sen took her spot at half of the mics on the table, while he positioned himself next to her at the other half, hands clasped behind his back. Hopefully, he didn’t look ridiculous, though the mere thought of that probably made it true. It was also kinda hot in here; was anyone else hot?
“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting so many of you,” Sen said once it was silent, chuckling fakely. It snapped him back to attention. “The last time I saw nearly as many was for the announcement of The Black Goat’s Egg!”
Haise actually recalled the event. He had skipped class that day to watch it on TV, since it was in the middle of the day, once Hide assured him a hundred times that he’d get Haise the required notes and papers. Sen had dressed up far more fancily for that than this one, and now that he actually knew her (in more ways than one), he felt that she’d done herself a disservice.
A few more pictures were snapped, and he swore most of them were of him. It made sense, in a way; he was a novelty, or maybe an anomaly, in Sen’s otherwise lone wolf career.
That said, neither her clothes from that day nor the cameras were his main concern. His main concern was, still, the length of the previous presentation. As an avid reader, he hadn’t minded and wanted to pick her mind apart until it was laid out before him in all its glory, but now that he was standing with her as her equal, he found himself dreading the next two hours of his life. And that wasn’t even factoring in the fact this was televised.
“Well, before we get into questions—” Sen’s voice brought Haise back down to earth, as always— “I’d like to say a few words about the creation of this book.
“Firstly, I apologize to anyone willing to read my scribbles for the wait. Once The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin released, I found that my next idea simply wasn’t taking the form I wanted it to. All of the ideas were there, but the moment they left my mind, it turned into garbage, even by my standards!”
A smile and even a few laughs rumbled through the crowd. She was so good at this, Haise thought while playing with the cuff of his jacket. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything but stand here, but that also made him feel bad. It also sounded a little tedious.
“A week became a month and a month became a year, yet the page was still blank. And so, my editor, Shiono, suggested I try to turn it into a graphic novel. He said the new format might be inspiring. And so, after much searching, I chose this one: Haise Sasaki!”
At his name, he visibly coughed and tried his best to smile and bow. “H-Hello! I’m… I’m Haise Sasaki, and it’s… it’s such an honor to work with S— Ms. Takatsuki on her first graphic novel!”
It was probably best that he left out the fact that this was also his first graphic novel, and his first officially published work.
Sen, however, had other plans. “I wanted someone with as little experience as me with this sort of thing, but I also wanted someone who was very familiar with the style of my written works. I was very lucky that Haise here—” he flinched when she aggressively pronounced his first name, to the point that he had to adjust his glasses— “checked both boxes and more! He was able to color the canvas where I couldn’t, and the result will be released with the new year.”
She smiled at him, and he caught the familiar glint of affection in her eyes. He returned it with his own, like it was their little secret.
“Now, let’s get to questions.”
The first question was for Sen, and it was probably the most obvious one. “Ms. Takatsuki, what was your source of inspiration for this story?”
“Oh, the usual,” she replied with a knowing smile. “I’ll just say that it’s surprising what you find when you go where people don’t want you to go. I encourage you all to do the same. Experience life and adventure, then maybe you might find what you’re looking for.”
The second one was also for Sen. “Ms. Takatsuki, what were some of the unique challenges presented to you with the graphic novel format?”
The third one? “Ms. Takatsuki—” Yep. Sen.
“Ms. Takatsuki…”
“Ms. Takatsuki!”
For the next hour or so, Sen was pestered over and over by interviewers who were more content with treading familiar ground than taking a chance with a picturesque newbie. Though Haise was partially relieved that there wasn’t much attention on himself, there was a rare instance of irritation welling within him for Sen’s sake, and the way her fake smile widened with each new, more boring question told him she felt the same way. They were supposed to be partners— equals— yet no one was treating them as such.
And then— “Mr. Sasaki?”
He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Y-Yeah?! Er, sorry!” He cleared his throat, suffering some laughs. “Yes?”
This interviewer was younger, and looked a bit more timid than the others. Still, they were the first to take a chance on him. “Could you… Could you tell us what it’s like working with Ms. Takatsuki?”
The silence weighed heavy while the world waited for his answer. “W-Well…”
Sen was looking at him too, with that glimmering, curious gaze of hers. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight.
“Ms. Takatsuki is…”
What could he say that wouldn’t embarrass her? Public opinion wasn’t anything like talking to Hide or Touka; he couldn’t exactly be honest about the whole thing without raising some brows. Then again, this work was going to help connect the families of V to the likes of Donato and Saeki, so really, what was he even worried about?
“She’s amazing,” he said with full sincerity. “And I think you’ll enjoy what we’ve created together.”
Some time was taken for everyone to jot down his answer, and he wondered if he had been too brief. He also felt Sen’s eyes on him, but from the corner of his gaze, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He did, however, manage to catch her eye twitch when the next person stood, and begged for her attention. She must have thought her reprieve would last longer.
“Yes?” There was a slight sharpness to her voice.
“What are your thoughts on the ongoing investigation of Kaiko Industries and the Torso?”
A new type of silence settled in: anticipation. What did Sen Takatsuki think about the whole thing? Considering the messages and discussions around her work, it was just the type of thing she wrote and advocated for. Would she continue the pattern?
Some of the audience, particularly the older individuals, looked perturbed by the question. Perhaps they were people who disliked attaching real life events and politics to Sen’s works, who disliked the very idea of entwining the horrors of reality with the reliefs provided by fiction. Haise couldn’t understand that perspective. Art was influenced by real life, was it not? Stories about crime and punishment, corruption and exposure— were those not inherently political? It was like those people wished to drain the story of all life by ignoring its very real connotations.
He looked at her now, and saw she was smiling knowingly. 
“They’ll get what they deserve,” she said simply.
“Agh, I wish I could’ve said more!!” Sen, sitting in the passenger’s seat of Shiono’s car, complained.
The conference concluded without a hitch. After questions, Haise and Sen were asked for extra photos, and they revealed the title of the book as well. Shiono was driving them out now, helping them keep a low profile.
Haise, seated at the back of the car, tilted his head. “Why didn’t you?”
“I like writing, that’s all.” He heard the smile in her voice. “It’d be a waste to face an inconvenience with ‘controversy’.”
“You’re such a sap, Sen,” Shiono commented, chuckling.
“Oh, can it.” But she laughed anyway. “Maybe I am, so what?”
“Well, I think it’s charming. Right, Sasaki?”
She shot Haise a playful glare. “Don’t you start.”
He shrugged. “I thought you preferred the truth, Sen.”
Puffing up her cheeks, she reached over the seat to poke him, and he prepared to defend himself, laughing all the while. However, she couldn’t reach, so she just sank back into her seat and huffed.
“You two are unbelievable,” she muttered.
Shiono cackled. “We just get you, kiddo, and you hate it!”
Haise smiled. They did, didn’t they? Not only that, she believed them too. Shiono was understandable; he was her father, and he’d had nothing but a positive impact on her life. Haise was a bit more surprising, looking back. Seven short months, and now Sen Takatsuki trusted him completely? It felt like a dream.
Then again, he recognized himself in her words, and she recognized herself in his art. They were mirrors, two sides of the same coin; it would be weirder if they didn’t understand each other. Maybe it was that fact that pushed her to hire him in the first place.
Shiono and Sen had begun a new conversation, steered more toward the intricacies of marketing. Haise noted that he would be drawing a few extra pieces of promotional work to assist, but before he could formulate an idea, Shiono changed the subject.
“Do you two have plans for dinner?” he asked
“Uh…” Haise wracked his brain. “I-I don’t—”
“I’ve got a few ideas.” Sen turned over to him, smiling. “Remember? You were gonna cook something at my place.”
Haise was confused at first, but swallowed his question. His chin itched wildly as he responded: “Y-Yeah, I remember…”
It must not have been a very good performance, because she playfully rolled her eyes and faced forward.
Shiono whistled as he turned a corner leading to the 6th ward. “You really snagged a good one, kiddo. A cook? Absolutely crazy.”
She smirked. “I know.”
———
Haise didn’t even get the chance to admire Sen’s apartment before she locked the door, leapt into his arms, and crashed their lips together.
He gasped at the sudden contact as it stoked a flame inside of him. He scooped one hand beneath Sen to hold her steady, while the other groped at her ass. When he found a wall to pin her to, she grunted in approval.
“Is this okay…?” she breathed, tilting his head back and kissing his neck.
They hadn’t done this since he woke up in the hospital, and it only now dawned on Haise that that meant it had been a whole month. “Yes…” he gasped desperately, making a sound between a hiss and a moan when he felt her teeth pinch his skin. “Yes, yes…”
Perhaps that month— a bit more, if they were counting the days before he was kidnapped— had been why this felt a little clumsy. The way Sen was mindlessly biting his neck more than kissing it, the way when she found his mouth again, their teeth accidentally clacked, making them laugh— it was like the resort all over again.
Her tongue briefly swiped across his palate, then she bit gently on his bottom lip and tugged far harder. He let out a throaty sigh, leaning with the force, but he made sure to cradle her head so she didn’t hit the wall. Meanwhile, his hands hiked up either side of her skirt, pressing against her tights in  a vain attempt to feel the skin beneath.
Sen broke their kiss to catch her breath. “Tear them,” she said, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his jacket.
Haise helped himself out of the clothing. “What?”
“I mean it—” she let out a sigh when his tongue found the inside of her cheek, chasing the sensation— “Tear them, pry them apart.”
His head was too fuzzy to protest, so instead, after setting her down, he yanked down her skirt, letting it pool on the floor around her feet. Then, he got on his knees and quickly pulled down her tights.
“Haise—!” she began, even as she kicked them off. “I told you to—”
He planted his face into her exposed bush. The effect was immediate as she threw her head back and nearly collapsed on him.
“Fuck—!” she gasped.
He stopped immediately. “You okay?”
He didn’t need to see her glare. “Keep going.”
No complaints there. He followed the pitch and volume of her cries, flicking her clit and teasing her entrance with his tongue. Offhandedly, he remembered some awkward videos Hide had sent him once upon a time, and was almost ashamed at how much he was relying on them now. He was also upset they were working.
She tasted wonderful, though— a cross between sour, sweet, and satisfying. Or maybe those were the hormones talking. Either way, he needed more of her, even if that meant blocking the majority of his airways. He also took one of his fingers and spread her lower lips, massaging them as he sucked her entrance.
Her hands enthusiastically carded his hair, tangling themselves in the black locks, as he lapped up everything that came out of her, wasting nothing. In the meantime, his pants tightened more and more with each lick, cry, and squeeze.
“Bedroom…” Sen managed, half-delirious. “Bedroom, now…”
Haise obeyed her command, removing his face from between her legs and gathering her up in his arms.
“Holy shit…” She clung to him as he carried her over toward the door that he assumed was her bedroom. She planted a few lazy kisses on his cheek and spread open his unbuttoned shirt to access his shoulder. “Wow…”
He nearly tripped on the way there, and she squealed with laughter. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, laughing too.
“It’s fine…” She kissed him, loved him. “Careful, though; don’t get hurt…”
“I won’t.” He relished the feeling of her lips. “Promise…”
He finally identified the bed— a fittingly red color, he vaguely noted— in the dim light of evening, and let Sen fall against the mattress. She grunted at the impact, but the feverish grin on her face told him everything he needed to know. He shed his shirt, tossing it carelessly on the ground, and made to climb on top of her and continue.
“Ah, ah, ah.”
He found his path impeded by her bare foot against his abdomen. It barely hovered over the tent in his pants, teasing it with the ghost of touch. She sat up, more composed now, and far more controlling.
“The pants too.”
He glanced down past it, then took a few steps back. His hands fiddled with the belt, eager to continue—
“Slowly, Haise.”
She crossed one leg over, making a show of it. The display only made him harder, and the way that she teased him by barely lifting a finger— beautiful torture. And she knew it, too. She knew by the sultry sound of her voice, traveling across the room to caress his ears. She knew by the thin string weaving itself into his skin, gently pulling him every which way and encouraging him to obey. A siren’s tapestry, in other words, and one he succumbed to gladly.
She mirrored his actions with her shirt and bra, and there was a flush to her face that told him there was a touch of regret to her orders. She stared hard at his erection the entire time, not looking away for a second. He wasn’t any better; his eyes hungrily roamed her hair, her face, her hips, her stomach, and her breasts, each area with its own, equally tantalizing aspects.
Once Haise stepped out of the pool made of his pants, Sen’s impatience broke out to save them both. In a surprising show of strength, she seized him by the waist and dragged him on top of her, pinning herself between his body and the mattress and trapping him between her legs. Haise propped himself up on an elbow to not completely crush her, but he liked the heat of their chests pressed flush together, and indulged himself as much as he could.
While their tongues danced their familiar dance, Sen’s hand ran up and down his length through his boxers, and he grinded helplessly against the motion until it slipped in to feel the real deal. The other massaged the back of his head, making him shudder.
Meanwhile, his hand found her ass, squeezing as hard as he could without hurting her. She liked the pain, to a degree; at first, he’d been hesitant to comply with her demands, even after her demonstrations at the resort. However, after everything that had happened lately, he disregarded those doubts and gave it his all, and the cry she gave into his mouth was worth it.
She stopped stroking him and tugged on his waistband. Haise didn’t think twice and helped her expose him to open air. He came up for air from her mouth and reached for the nearby drawer, intent on finding the condoms.
However, Sen’s hand clamped around his wrist, cutting him short. He looked back in confusion. “Sen—” even as the request formed itself on his lips, he wanted to stop himself— “we shouldn’t—”
“I want to,” she interrupted, and her grip tightened. “I’m on the pill, you know. The condoms were always more of a precaution.”
He swallowed. Tantalizing curiosity prickled his neck and made him twitch. “But…”
“I want to feel you, Haise.” There was a shine to her eyes that was desperate, pleading. “Please…”
It was so tempting; more than once, it had crossed his mind to ask if she wanted to try this. But he didn’t know anything about her situation regarding birth control, and then to risk something that would only really cause her pain was enough to still his tongue. In hindsight, he should have just asked.
He nodded slightly, then nodded again. “Okay… You’re sure?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.” She gave an encouraging smile.
Yeah, that was pretty stupid. Still— “If you change your mind, I’ll stop.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know.”
He stroked himself a few times to make sure he was ready, staring into her eyes the entire time. The resolve in her jade irises didn’t diminish in any way. When he moved to position himself, she spread her legs.
“Go on.” She shuddered as his head teased her entrance, which was soaked with her juices. It was more than enough.
Haise easily pressed into her, then saw stars.
It felt completely different from using a condom. Skin against skin, with nothing in between. A fire, no longer restrained, finally allowed to roar and consume everything it could get its hands on. It was such an incredible feeling that Haise nearly came on the spot. Sen seemed to feel it too, moaning and squirming like never before.
“Hah… Sen…”
“Haise… Haise…!”
For all that they read and learned from books, their vocabulary was reduced to unintelligible sounds and the other’s name as Haise moved inside her. It was an addicting sensation; he had a feeling he wouldn’t want to go back to condoms.
Sen seemed to be thinking the same. Her mouth hung open slightly, and her eyes were lidded with pleasure, vaguely focused in his direction. Even the slightest movement made her shiver beneath him. She was ethereal to him, his perfect imperfect person. The many images he had of Sen Takatsuki, the author, paled in comparison to Sen Takatsuki, the person; she got mad, she had moments of sorrow, she grinned and cackled when she was happy, and she was sometimes a bit too arrogant for her own good.
She was so unbelievably human.
He loved it.
He loved her.
Haise captured her lips again, trying to get as close to melting into her as he could. She eagerly reciprocated by wrapping her arms around his neck. He drank her like someone dying of thirst, and she opened herself to him, letting herself be drained.
The tenderness was short-lived. His pace sped up, and their voices grew in volume. Eventually, there was nothing left but Sen’s cries, his gasps, the slapping of their hips, and the feeling that he was going to cum soon. He tried to slow down, hoping to prolong the ecstasy for even a second longer, and busied himself by dragging his mouth over one of her nipples. She arched her back in approval and pulled him closer with her arms.
It wasn’t enough, not by a longshot.
“S-Sen…” he panted, shivering and twitching prematurely. “I’m gonna—”
“Inside me,” she whispered, begged. “Please…!”
It was that plea that gave him the push he needed. He slammed their hips together, burying himself as deep as he could, and spilled into her without a second thought. The rush from filling her up instead of a condom made him desperately sink his teeth into her shoulder. She cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, tightening her legs around his waist and pushing him further into the area. He filled her for what felt like hours— a perfect, euphoric moment frozen in time, filled with their mixing sweat and breath.
Sen’s lips found the shell of his ear. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing it— a gentle gesture, helping him relax in the blissful tension.
He kissed the bruise he’d made in return. “I love you too.” He did so again, harder. “So much…”
It didn’t end there, though.
After catching their breath, she pulled him into the bathroom. Their first bath with each other took three times as long as a bath without. Haise memorized the image of Sen’s body slick with water and soap.
When she reached for the kettle in the kitchen to prepare tea, he grabbed it for her with one hand, while the other found her breast and squeezed a gasp out of her. The kettle was never put on heat, let alone filled. A sweaty imprint of her torso found itself on her counter, though.
Again and again and again, it seemed neither of them could be satisfied, but when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, they collapsed onto Sen’s bed, finally spent.
Sen was the first to break the pattern of noises: “Holy fuck…”
Haise, who felt like he was going to faint any second, could only say, “Uh huh.”
She struggled to her feet, her skin glistening in with sweat under the few hints of light in the room. “Tea? For… whew… for real, this time.”
He agreed with that sentiment. “I… I’d like that…”
Still, the way her bare hips swayed as she left the room, a trail of what he knew was a mixture of their fluids slowly trickling down her leg, made him think she wanted more. He was too out of it to take her up on it, unfortunately, so he just followed her.
Now that he wasn’t fucking her senseless, Haise finally had the opportunity to actually look at her apartment. The first thing he noticed wasn’t the patio overlooking the ward, the small couch and television, or the shiny metal fridge and kitchen.
No, the first thing he saw were the books.
Tons of them, crammed into shelves that lined the walls, and when there wasn’t enough space on those, they were piled on or around them in differing piles. After a while, though, the shelves stopped, and there were just piles shoved out of the way.
“Wow…” he said, drifting toward the nearest shelf-pile. “You have so many!”
Sen looked over from the kitchen. He tried not to ogle her bare chest. “It’s my actual collection. You like it?”
It really was nothing compared to their office. “‘Like it’? I-I love it!” Despite that, he stopped himself before he touched anything. “Er, may I?”
She gestured freely, smiling. “What’s mine is yours. I just hope there’s something here that lovely little brain of yours hasn’t devoured yet.”
He flushed. “We’ll have to see.”
While she got the kettle out, he examined her shelf— one of them, at least— with more interest. It was an expansion of the ones from their office, no longer restrained by a single space, and like their office, the books were vaguely organized by themes. The morals of war, bullshit politics, complications in criminal investigation, the horror of existence itself…
“What did you think of the conference, by the way?” Sen asked, coming up next to him. “Your first one, right?”
“Yeah…” Haise, far too engrossed in her collection, had to pause and think. “I guess… it was a little dull.”
She laughed. “They usually are.” She found a book and haphazardly paged through it. “Especially if you’re the one doing most of the talking.”
“I’m sorry; I—”
“No unnecessary apologies, remember?” Sen put the book away in a completely different spot and kept searching.
Haise pushed back this time and looked at her. “I meant that I’m sorry for you. You shouldn’t have to go through that and get your time wasted, even if it’s important to spread word.”
She found another book and met his gaze. “Thank you, but… It wasn’t all bad.”
His brow raised. “You sure? You were being bombarded by questions, and you looked—”
“Tired, yes.” She dropped the book without even opening it, and it toppled over a nearby stack. “And irritated, and bored, and a bit disgusted, too. But you were there, so that counted for something.”
It brought a smile to his face. “Sen, I—”
She cut him off. “You called me amazing. Did you mean that?”
He looked away, as if they weren’t completely naked in front of each other and covered in red marks courtesy of the other. “Y-You already know the answer, so—”
“I want to hear you say it.” Her other hand cupped his cheek, making him face her. “Tell me, go on.”
He was immediately sucked into her gaze. “Yeah…”
“Yeah, what?”
His hand settled on her waist. “Yeah, I… I think you’re amazing.”
She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him. “Good. I’m glad. Not so bad, right?”
Still humiliating. “Right…”
She glanced at the shelf again. “Did you find something, by the way?”
He followed her eyes, then spotted something familiar. He took out the book and showed it to her with a smile: Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis. “Maybe.”
Sen shook her head, smiling. “Wouldn’t you rather read something new?”
“I-It’s a good story!” he defended. “Besides, it’s a, um, nice reminder of everything… How far we’ve come since we first read it, for instance.”
He was no longer a protagonist of a novel, dancing on the strings designed by the authors of his fate. No, he was the author now, drawing his own path to the future. Him and Sen both; they would chart their own course, speak their own words.
“You’re so sentimental,” she said, right as the kettle let out a hissing noise.
Haise decided to put the book on the counter for later. Sen handed him his cup of tea after a while, and they raised their cups together in a small toast. The silence in the air— and the smell of sex too— was enjoyed for a few minutes. The two of them, every so often, stole a glance at the other.
“What?” an amused Sen asked when she caught him.
Haise tried to hide behind his cup. “N-Nothing…”
“Tell me!”
His face turned a dark red. “Just admiring you…”
She rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t faring much better. “Charmer.”
More silence, more time to think, reflect. So much had changed since the coffee shop. Kazuichi Public Park, the White Blades, Cochlea, the resort, and then…
“What do you think will happen to V?” Haise asked, the thought occurring. “Torso’s dead, but he wasn’t the source of the problem…”
Sen shrugged. “Who knows? We’re attacking a very tightly wound organization. They’ve worked their way into nearly every aspect of everyday life, and many people have lived and died under their control without even knowing. The first leak won’t change anything overnight, so we have to keep fighting.”
His brow furrowed. “You have more information?”
“Of course we do!” She took a smug sip of her tea. “You don’t release information as you obtain it, otherwise your adversaries figure out your strategy and kill you. Better to hoard things and trickle it through a funnel, then watch the foundations collapse.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t think about that. That’s smart.”
“It was Hide’s idea.” She waved him off. “Thank him when you see him.”
“You helped him, didn’t you? You and Chie; don’t count yourself out like that.”
“I guess so.”
“Sen.”
“Alright, alright!” She put up a hand in defense. “Thank you, Haise, for acknowledging my contribution.”
They both laugh at that, hearty and full and bare. It was nice, and Haise treasured the sound.
“We kinda did this backwards, didn’t we?” Sen said suddenly, circling the rim of her cup.
“‘Backwards’?” he repeated.
“Usually you spend some time together with someone before having sex at their apartment.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”
“Oh…” He chuckled. “I guess so.”
She tilted her head, amused. “Just a guess?”
“Well… Who decides what’s ‘forwards’ and ‘backwards’ with this kind of thing?” He took a sip of his tea. “We decide our own paths. We’re, ultimately, the authors of our own story, right?”
Though the interview at the shop had sort of fallen into his lap, Haise had chosen to draw in the first place. He had chosen to go to that coffee shop, chosen to accept that job, and chosen to go to that resort.
Perhaps there were obstacles in the way. His mother, his aunt, the complications of his career choice, Rize, and the Torso were some of them, but his choices had granted him weapons to defeat them. Sen, Hide, Touka, and everyone else that he had befriended over the years came to his aid. In choosing them, they had chosen him in return. And that was life, at the end of the day:
Choose and be chosen. Over and over until the end.
Sen’s smile was as soft as velvet. “How inspiring.”
———
The End
THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME TO THE END
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kapiandkylo · 1 year
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LONG POST.
[TW: Death]
Last week we lost our little floof of feistiness, Kapi (originally known as BunBun before we adopted him, then changed to KapiBun, named after the character Kapibarasan).
It has been a long weekend and the days immediately following his passing were sad, lonely, and exhausting.
I adopted Kapi from the SF Animal Care & Control in January 2013, as I was looking for a new soft friend after my little ball of fury, Pixel the dwarf hamster, died suddenly (likely from a heart attack from running too much). I read up on rabbits and prepared for having one at home. I hadn’t seen Kapi’s photo’s up on the SFACC adoptable friends so I was looking forward to meeting a few other buns in mind. As I passed his cage, he immediately ran to the metal door with his nose out and wanted attention — more than any of the other rabbits. I met with a couple other bunnies first; one was so scared he peed right by my leg then hopped away. Then I decided to meet and greet Kapi.
As soon as they let him out with me, he was curious and super friendly. He binkied around me and wanted so many pets. The staff told me he had been surrendered just a few days after Christmas, but whoever his owner was treated and trained him well and he was really well socialized and was at least 1 year old and no more than 2 years old. I loved him, but I went home to think about it.
I went back the next day to get him because I didn’t want anyone else to have him.
Kapi was such a welcome joy in my life at a time where a lot of things started falling apart. He always zoomed around, hopped up on the couch, and demanded attention from me. The way he got spoiled grew and grew, as the living room was soon taken over by him as he needed a bigger pen, more space, and more toys and more attention. He traveled to work with me the first year I had him and got so much love from many people.
Over the next decade almost, he continued to be a fire in my life; with all the ruined plushes and towels, territorial acts, and even stressful speed dating (not always successful) came a lot of cuddles, laughs, and fun.
Even though he was stressful at times, he never got sick or needed an emergency trip to the vet. And he also eventually learned to welcome another bun into his life, Kylo, in 2018.
In October of this year, his annual checkup showed he had lost about 10% of his body weight and he had muscle atrophy. We noticed he was a little bit more tired looking than usual this year, but he was still feisty in the mornings for his vitamins, always ran out and around, and groomed Kylo. The vet said he was “too young” to have arthritis (which I didn’t believe for a second because he was already at least 11 years old); we ran lab tests and his bloodwork came back fine. We put Kapi back on joint supplements and we switched our water bowls out for a water bottle because Kapi was overdrinking and dunking his head in the bowls and couldn’t seem to control himself. This seemed to help him retain a more food after a while and prevented his chin fur from getting soaked and matted constantly, but he was starting to lose his litterbox habits and we noticed much more pee spots on the playmat even though the litterbox was cleaned two to three times a week. We treated him to pellets to help him gain weight. Some nights we did a little PT on his hind legs.
But suddenly a week ago he started falling over more. While he still came out for vitamins when he heard treat bags and waited at the pen door to get some pellets, he was looking more and more tired as the days went on. We would hear him fall because we would hear struggling a little as he couldn’t get himself back up.
We called the vet and scheduled a checkup for the 20th to get him tested for e. cuniculi, because Kylo had tested positive in April but stopped showing symptoms after being on metacam for a week.
A few days after we scheduled that visit, Kapi was found unable to move in his little castle. He couldn’t run out for morning vitamins. He would drink or eat even though he was drinking from the bottle and eating hay, pellets, and fresh veggies just the night before and running (though tripping and falling) around while we were awake. We couldn’t get an emergency visit with our regular vet so we were referred to a place in Berkeley that was 24 hours, so we drove him there and called them that we were on the way.
In the car, I got him to munch on some parsley. I had to prop him up with his little paws on my hand. He would chew for a little bit and then stop, tired. He was still fighting.
When we got to the emergency room, they took him in and said he was in critical condition. The emergency vet didn’t believe he it was e. cuniculi causing his condition, despite us catching her up on his history from this year, and just noted he was a geriatric rabbit especially at his older age of 11. His heartbeat barely registered and he was extremely cold (around 90 degrees, where he should be closer to 100 to 105). He was struggling.
We spent our final hours with him at the emergency vet and we gave him some pellets and celery, which he still munched on, but his chewing and breathing was so labored and he could barely keep his eyes open. His little nose slowed down until it didn’t wiggle anymore. I know he fought so hard.
It hit very hard going home without him.
He meant so much to this home. We’ll never forget him.
Rest in parsley, little dude. And say hi to Kitfo over the rainbow bridge; we’ll keep an eye on Kylo for you.
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lolathelotus · 8 months
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An Alternate Universe Vignette: Prologue
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Painfully long exposition under the cut...
Background:
After their mother moved in her boyfriend, Don Lothario, Dina and Nina felt like visitors in their own home in Oasis Springs.
The way Don looked at them...
They tried talking to their mother, Nighat, about Don's constant staring, but she assured the girls they were misunderstanding the situation. After a few more conversations that all went exactly like this, the girls gave up on trying to talk to their mother.
Dina and Nina co-existed with their mom and Don, but avoided interacting with them whenever possible.
Six months after Don moved in, the Calientes received some strange news.
A letter came in the mail addressed to Nighat that read as follows:
Dear Ms. Caliente,
I hope this correspondence finds you well.
I represent a small property management company located in Chestnut Ridge.
I am writing to inform you that it has come to our attention that a piece of land located in the town legally belongs to a Mr. Tariq Al Mahmoud, whom I believe to be your father.
As records indicate that Mr. Al Mahoud has long passed, this property belongs to you, as his next-of-kin.
For the past few decades, this property was believed to be abandoned, a town official having recorded the wrong name under the ownership information. Recently, the town's officials have been sorting old paperwork, and came across the original deed for the property, which has the name of Tariq Al Mahmoud as sole owner.
Please contact my law firm at the number listed below at your earliest convenience so that you can complete the paperwork needed to take ownership of the property, known locally as Palomino Junction.
Best Regards,
Swann Weston, Esq., Weston & Floof Law Firm, Chestnut Ridge
Dina and Nina were shocked to find that their mother had no intention of taking ownership of the property, and intended to let the Chestnut Ridge Bank take it over. After speaking with Swann Weston, Nighat said the property sounded like more trouble than it would ever be worth, and that she would probably end up losing money on it in the long run.
The girls couldn't believe how foolish their mother was being. Dina and Nina could see that their mother was so obsessed with Don that she had little interest in anything else. Her relationship with Don really was the only thing she cared about anymore.
During a heated conversation in which Dina and Nina confronted their mother about putting her relationship before everything else, Nighat looked the girls dead in the eyes and asked, "Since you two are apparent experts in renovating old, dilapidated properties, why don't you do it? You two want to move to Chestnut Ridge? I'll sell you the property for 10 Simoleons."
Out of sheer spite and anger, Dina and Nina said yes.
And with that, they packed up their belongings, and left Oasis Springs for Chestnut Ridge with a few suitcases, the deed to Palomino Junction, and $1,037 Simoleons to their name.
Let's see how they do.
Next
The Caliente Ranch Master Post
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darkandstormydolls · 3 months
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How well different periods of Victorian women’s fashion would do as ghost outfits, according to my own heavily biased and completely arbitrary opinions:
1830’s
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No. Are you kidding me? Look at those sleeves. You would be laughed right out of Ghosttown. The skirts are full, but they’re ankle length and floofy all the way around. (And again, the sleeves.) Combined with the hairstyles of the period, the overall effect is utterly ridiculous. I know some people love the 1830’s for their “whimsy” or “fun” but I just think they look silly. This was an entire decade where of sheer silliness and tomfoolery.
2/10
1840’s
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Okay, improvement. We have tamed The Sleeves, thank heaven. The skirts are still fluffy, but not too fluffy, and a little longer, which helps a bit. Considering the general calmness of this period, it could work as a ghost outfit. The hairstyles have calmed down, any floof at the sleeves is down to a bishop sleeve, which could be a little nice and ghostly, and these dresses usually look a little simpler (although the amount of plaid that makes an appearance in this era is not helpful) and could make a nice classic ghost outfit. It’s not the best, but it’s not bad.
7/10
Crinoline Era
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As the name suggests, this is the era of the Big Freaking Skirt. This is partially a positive (the DRAMA) and partly a negative. I’ve always thought of the 1850’s as the Sweet Lolita of the era, with all the floofy skirts and flounces and rows of ruffles. It calms down a bit by the early 1860’s, but it’s still a lot of big round floof. The flared pagoda sleeves of this era could be nice and ghostlike, but the overall frilliness and fringe rather detracts from the effect. Just like the 1840’s, it’s not the best, but it’s still not bad.
7/10
Crinolette Era
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This era has some positives, one of those being that I like it and it will therefore be ranked rather highly. This was a short, transitional period, but it managed to get a lot of the positives of the former and following eras with few of the negatives. The sweet Lolita look is lost as the fullness of the skirts shifts towards the back, leading to the beginnings of the trailing, back-heavy skirts that dominate the later Victorian era. Now, I think that sweepy, trailing skirts are a great part of a ghost outfit, so this is a huge positive. We still have dramatic sleeves, and the trim is a bit more sedate, but the skirt is still a little bulky for optimal ghosting.
8/10
1st Bustle Era
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(Fashion plate because it was strangely hard to find a good extant dress)
Now we’re getting somewhere. Skirts that sweep dramatically behind the wearer? Perfect ghost clothes. Other than that, there’s not a ton to say. We’re not quite in trains always all the time territory, but they do show up, and that’s always a nice addition. There’s plenty of frills and ruffles to drift dramatically about. And I’m definitely not biased because this is my favorite period or anything.
10/10
Natural Form
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Now, here we have some positives and negatives. On the plus side, we have trains. Lots of trains. Basically all the time. And a train is always a positive for a ghost outfit. However, with the lack of as much of a significant bustle, the effect of the train sweeping behind is muted by being only on the floor. And with the way the dramatic sweeping skirts are less dramatic, the effect is reduced. Additionally, I think the long-fitting cuirass bodice also dampens the drama of a good sweeping skirt, although that may just be my personal dislike of them poking through.
7/10
2nd Bustle Era
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This one is an improvement on the natural form if only by the presence once again of a large, pronounced bustle. Also, it’s not shown on the example, but there are plenty of trains in this era, so we can have the best of both worlds. Other than that, there’s not a ton to say. It’s not optimal (my nemesis the cuirass bodice appears again >:( ) but it’s pretty good.
9/10
The 1890s
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Well, there’s a lot to say here. On the plus side, floofy sweeping skirts! On the other hand, well…
The Sleeves make another appearance.
Now, some people love puffy sleeves. And if that’s you, good for you. I am not one of those people. But they aren’t quite as bad as the 1830’s, and they have trailing skirts to make up for it, so I rank it higher.
7/10
1900-1901
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(This pic may be a few years later, but you get the general idea)
This is quite a short era- not fashion wise, it just ceases to be Victorian after a couple of years.
I’d say it’s pretty good. The sleeves have tamed down from insane to simply dramatic, the skirts are still dramatically sweepy, and the fondness of this era for delicate white lingerie dresses makes it an excellent choice for ghost outfits. My one bone to pick with it is the loose pigeon breasted fronts, which aren’t much my taste and I think don’t quite fit the others (In my opinion at least, one of the few consistent features of the entire era is the fitted bodices, and this part kind of sticks out dramatically), but it’s not that significant.
8/10
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reitziluz · 3 months
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I don't have any handy skeletons but I do have my floof cat lounging dramatically after dinner. And hmmm random headcanon query!! How do your favorite characters sleep?
lounging floof! decadence!
hmm, let's see if i'll be able to remember who my faves even are...
i guess reigen could be a surprisingly heavy sleeper, once he actually manages to put himself to bed. serizawa i could see being prone to sleeping too much, or alternating between anxiety all-nighters and and sleeping through the day. he's surely working on it, though.
i enjoy the fanon that papyrus Does Not Sleep. that he needs less sleep and also has an interesting sleep schedule.
i have other faves, but i don't think i've especially thought about their sleep before, and nothing came to me now either. but luckily my ocs are also my favorite characters! putting them under the readmore so i can go ham hehe
kimon sleeps very lightly, wakes up a lot during the night, and p much always wakes up earlier than he'd want. part of it is his hypervigilance. another part is his whole physiological situation re: having animated himself and technically being undead. his power nap game is unreal tho, and he has fallen asleep standing up with his eyes open more than once.
vaal can go without sleep way longer than humans can, but e purposefully sleeps every night. e curls up in the middle of so many pillows and blankets and hot water bottles. sleeping for a long time leaves em kinda cold and stiff, and then it takes a while for em to warm up and wake up.
arin has a really regular sleep schedule despite the whole chaotic inventor thing. they get cranky if they can't do their whole sleepy time routine. a big part of it is about just. dealing with their prosthetics and other supportive magic shit. can't sleep comfortably with them on and running. sleeps on their back, sleep mask on.
sam can fall asleep anywhere, and often crashes right to bed when she finally gets home. she sleeps pretty well, but often doesn't have time to sleep quite enough. doesn't dream, or at least couldn't tell you a single time she did. prefers to sleep naked.
tess has a hard time falling asleep, both because she often gets absorbed in something around bedtime, and because it's hard for her to turn off her brain and fall asleep once in bed. this leads to lots of reading in bed. their bed is a princess four-poster deal. i don't know if body pillows are a thing in the setting, but she def hugs something when she sleeps.
... leskel doesn't sleep unless he involuntarily passes out. he should sleep more. someone needs to pin him down with like five weighted blankets and keep them on for like a full day, and maybe it would fix him.
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ronearoundblindly · 1 year
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Autumn Is Healing (Oct 21st)
Flufftober Day Twenty-One--Kiss for Good Luck
drabble for steve rogers x super soldier!reader (see previous or series)
No warnings, just floof (ok, technically a few curse words). WC 670
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It was a total accident.
Since you are restricted around the compound without a chaperone, Bucky and Steve always come to your room to tell you they are leaving on a mission. It’s a courtesy but also a calming reassurance.
You give cheek kisses.
Those were always a big thing in your childhood, and once you woke back up, once you felt a little more secure in yourself and these people around you, you fell right back into the habit.
Someone brings you food. Kiss. They do you a favor or explain something new. Kiss. Drop you back off after your outdoor time. Kiss. It’s always on the cheek though.
Steve uses an outrageous amount of concentration to not start blushing before they even get to your door because he knows what’s coming. He gets his kiss.
Sure, it’s just the cheek, and sure, Bucky’s gonna get one, too. Still a kiss though. It’s still from you.
“Hey, doll, we’re heading out,” Bucky drawls nonchalantly as you open the door. “Just came for our bit'a luck.”
You bounce forward and plant one on Bucky’s left cheek. Steve stares a little too intensely at the way your lips fold in a pout once they hit his skin. He commits things about how your body moves to memory often; he just doesn’t admit it to anyone.
Except something is different. You take one look at Steve and run back into your room.
“Wait, I almost forgot. I made you something. It’s…it’s right…shit,” you whisper, rummaging through a pile of things on your dresser.
Bucky’s eyes are down on his screen. They got a ping of fresh intel, so Steve steps inside to let you know.
“We gotta go. Don’t worry if you can’t—“
“Here!” Two little sachets are clutched in your hand. “Dried the lavender myself for ya—“ you tuck them into the nearest pouch on his utility belt “—so you boys can wind down if you get a chance.”
“That’s very sweet. Thank you,” Steve says absently. He’s looking back to Bucky who is grunting, annoyed by some development, and he knows now that you were aiming for his turned cheek.
Instead, Steve tries to refocus on you and bumps your nose before your lips—those soft things that press that very particular way he can vividly recall with his eidetic memory—land on his.
Your eyes are closed, but his aren’t. He expects a faster correction. You’re a super soldier, too, so you have quick reflexes like him. You must know what’s happened.
There’s no flicker across your features, no hesitation, just the normal firm yet gentle pucker of your lips to his skin but it’s his lips. Of course, Steve’s reflex is to kiss back, simple, quick. It’s basically a peck, but all that concentration on not blushing went out the window about three seconds ago and his unkissed cheeks are on fire now.
You haven’t even pulled away by the time he repeats, “thank you.” The words make his bottom lip brush against yours.
Bucky clears his throat in the doorway, muttering, “anytime now, punk.”
And then you’re resting back on your heels and smiling.
“Be safe, boys.”
Steve twitches a bit to gather himself. “Thank you—“ can he think of nothing else at this point? “—we’ll be back soon, Rosie.”
He pats the pouch on his hip and almost—almost—says thank you a fourth time but stops himself, and Steve ducks out of your room with eyes to the floor.
While waiting for the elevator, Bucky snorts.
“Looking a bit rosy yourself there, Stevie. Everything ok?”
Buck knows. He’s been his best friend for decades, and Steve doesn’t know why he insists on attempting to hide any of this from him but he tries. He tries to tamp down the flutter in his gut and the wild urge to grin. The flush of his neck and face are a lost cause but no matter. Steve’s happy.
“Never better,” Steve mutters. “Feeling lucky.”
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challenge details @flufftober
[Day Twenty; Day Twenty-Two]
[Chronological Next Part]
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
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Note
As I work my way through the 1989 TSS archives, I'm coming across the span of time where she carried Olivia around, and I'm just a little bit sad that in the listing where you add Worn With:... you don't include Olivia as an accessory. There could be a whole tag devoted to when she wears or carries the floofs! (But really, thank you for your dedicated service for the last decade, it's awesome having these archives to dig around in when I'm feeling nostalgic or curious)
LOL! You're so right. Missed opp on my part.
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