Mainly my work schedule lol, some weeks I only work 2 out of 7 days and it gives me a lot of free time to write

Can’t really do anything else when all your buddies are working and you’ve already done enrichment tasks yk?

(⁠◠⁠ᴥ⁠◕⁠ʋ⁠)~✨

▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼….???????

Whuh???????

I support that, but maybe don’t tell her that there’s 4 extra cameos in chapter 12…

Make sure to let her know about my handy dandy cameo reveal post when she’s done for some cross referencing/confirming her guesses haha

He does not know for sure but he’s got his suspicions! He’s never asking D3r if he knows or not, it’d be so bad if D3r didn’t know and that’s how he found out and Avery doesn’t want to go through that lol

Hi!!

Hehehe yeahhhhh, D3r is pretty used to Avery’s quirks by now and he’s got a pretty good idea of when something’s wrong/bothering Avery, he cares a lot about him :3

I heart accidental proposals and I need to write them more<3

The village is something alright!!! (⁠◠⁠ᴥ⁠◕⁠ʋ⁠)

Steve is a very good sheepie!!

Hi!!!

Hmmmmm, I will say that I perhaps have the worst way of writing of anyone ever, voice to text right in ao3’s posting page and I put it in a doc for my beta to look at, I could do it all on a doc but it’s not the same rip</3

But also in the anthropophobia universe Avery is incredibly swaggy but it’s not obvious in the slightest until you’re with him in person, D3r gets the shit scared out of him when Avery takes him out of his dirt bike and D3r is clinging on for dear life, he seems like such a cozy guy until you get to know him and realize he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie

The village had that soft, lived-in kind of morning where nothing felt rushed and everything smelled faintly of straw, bread, and clean cold air. The square wasn’t crowded, just quietly busy—villagers moving at an unhurried pace, voices low, laughter gentle, the kind of day that felt like it existed specifically to be remembered later. Someone had brought animals in from the outlying farms, not as an event exactly, more as a way for the kids to see the babies. Pens were set up near the well, low wooden rails smoothed by years of hands and weather, and inside them were small, warm creatures that Avery was absolutely not prepared for.

He froze the moment he saw them.

“Oh,” he breathed, hands immediately flying up to his mouth like the sound might escape and startle something. His core flared on instinct, a soft, bright glow blooming through his chest and bleeding faintly into his skin before he hurriedly tried to rein it in. It didn’t dim much. “Oh no. No, that’s—that’s not fair.”

D3r, a step behind him, followed Avery’s line of sight and immediately understood why Avery had stopped dead like he’d run into an invisible wall. Baby sheep—lambs—were wobbling around in the pen, their legs too long for their bodies, little hooves clicking softly against packed earth. Their wool wasn’t really wool yet, more like thick clouds clinging to round shapes, ears flicking as they bleated in high, startled little sounds that barely seemed possible from something so small.

And then there were the chicks.

Avery made a noise that could only be described as a whimper of pure, unfiltered emotion.

They were clustered under a heat lamp near the edge of the square, tiny yellow and brown fluffballs peeping quietly, some of them asleep, some toddling around with all the coordination of someone who had learned to walk approximately five minutes ago. One had tripped over nothing and simply accepted its fate, sitting down where it fell.

Avery’s knees visibly weakened.

“D3r,” he whispered, voice shaking. “They’re… they’re so small.”

“I can see that,” D3r said, but there was a smile in his voice even if his helmet hid most of it. He stopped beside Avery, solid and steady, a familiar anchor. “You alright?”

“No,” Avery said immediately and honestly, eyes shining. “I’m absolutely not. I think I might be dying. I think this is how I go.”

He took a hesitant step closer to the lambs, like approaching something sacred. One of them bleated again, loud for its size, and Avery made another sound, half laugh, half sob. His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore.

“They’re babies,” he said, like this was new information he had just discovered. “They’re just… little. Look at their faces. They don’t even know anything yet.”

D3r watched him with quiet fondness, the kind that sat heavy and warm in his chest. He’d seen Avery startled, anxious, curious, fierce—but this, this complete emotional short-circuit in the face of small animals, was something else entirely. Avery crouched down near the pen, careful not to cross any boundaries, eyes wide and soft, glow pulsing gently in time with his breathing.

One of the villagers noticed them then, an older woman with kind eyes and hands rough from work. She smiled knowingly at Avery’s expression.

“You can pet them, if you like,” she said. “They’re used to people.”

Avery looked up at her like she’d just offered him the moon.

“Are you serious,” he whispered. “Are you absolutely sure. I don’t want to— I mean I don’t want to scare them or—”

“They’ll be fine,” she chuckled. “Gentle hands.”

Avery nodded so quickly it was a miracle his head didn’t come loose. He reached out slowly, carefully, fingertips brushing the nearest lamb’s shoulder. The lamb startled for half a second, then leaned into the touch like it had always known Avery was supposed to be there.

Avery promptly started crying.

“Oh no,” he laughed through it, eyes wet, shoulders shaking. “Oh, that’s— that’s it. I’m done. D3r, it’s warm. It’s warm and it’s soft.”

“That does tend to be how animals are,” D3r said dryly, but his tone was gentle. He shifted slightly, adjusting the small weight in his arms.

Because somewhere between Avery melting into the dirt and the villagers going about their morning, a kitten had appeared. Grey and white, tiny enough to fit comfortably against D3r’s chest, paws kneading absently at the fabric of his cloak. It had decided, without hesitation, that D3r was acceptable.

Avery noticed.

He turned, saw the kitten, and made a sound that might have cracked something in his soul.

“You didn’t tell me there was a kitten,” he accused softly, like a betrayal.

“I didn’t know,” D3r replied. “It climbed up on its own.”

The kitten yawned, mouth impossibly small, then tucked its face under D3r’s chin. D3r adjusted his grip instinctively, one large hand carefully cupped around the kitten’s back, thumb resting lightly to keep it from slipping.

Avery stared.

“I love you,” he said abruptly, eyes flicking between D3r and the kitten. “Both of you. This is too much.”

His core brightened again, glow spilling more noticeably now, reflecting faintly off D3r’s armor. D3r felt it, that gentle warmth, familiar and grounding, and he tipped his head slightly toward Avery.

“Come look at the chicks,” D3r said, as if Avery hadn’t already clocked them the moment they entered the square.

Avery shuffled over, still half crouched, like standing fully upright might break the spell. The chicks peeped softly as he approached, one of them wobbling toward him with determined little steps.

He clasped his hands together to keep from touching.

“They’re like living dandelions,” he whispered reverently. “If I breathe wrong I’ll knock them over.”

One chick promptly tripped again.

Avery laughed, a bright, broken sound, then covered his mouth as tears slipped free anyway. “I can’t handle this. I can’t. They’re just… trying their best.”

D3r watched him from a short distance away, kitten still settled comfortably in his arms, and felt something deep and steady settle into place.

“You’re very soft today,” D3r said.

Avery glanced back at him, eyes red but smiling. “This is your fault. You brought me here.”

“I did,” D3r agreed. “No regrets.”

I am reaching out with grabby hands, I will never turn down a silly

Of course!!! I love being tagged in Cherophobia related stuff!! :D

Oh Interesting!!! I’ll have to take a gander at it later