iris

waiting for moments to come

[humanjarvis]

₍^. .^₎⟆ well hello 👋🏾 call me iris. she/her, black, twenties. i like pop culture and daydreaming. usually a combination of the two

₍^. .^₎⟆ i'm currently writing for love and deepspace! my favorites are caleb, sylus, and zayne. requests are closed (they were never open)

₍^. .^₎⟆ don't be shy—interact with me! i love reading people's thoughts on my work. i respond to comments and reblogs when i can, and feel free to send asks as well!

₍^. .^₎⟆ i post and share 18+ content, so please don't follow if you're a minor.

masterlists ⚝ ao3 ⚝ behind the scenes ⚝ ramblings ⚝ fic recs ⚝ art recs

i post all my writings on tumblr! ao3 is my frenemy but you can find all my fics & some drabbles there as well

recent works

sims (caleb, fluff)

dragon’s blood (sylus, fluff)

sunrise (sylus, smut)

divider from @thecutestgrotto. i do not allow translations. do not plagiarize or feed my work to ai.

[humanjarvis]

texting zayne after a psych appointment like “i guess nothing’s wrong—the opposite, actually! the doctor said my thinking is magical 🧚‍♀️”

when he reads it and realizes, he starts typing and stops typing and starts typing and stops typing for a few minutes before finally settling on: “i don’t think that means what you think it means.”

[humanjarvis]

growing up, caleb never let you see his computer. 

at first, you thought he was just being mean, hogging the highest-tech thing you’d ever seen all to himself. then, once you got old enough, you wondered if all the secrecy was for…nefarious reasons. but every time he smiled and ruffled your hair, you just couldn’t bring yourself to think he’d ever watch that kind of stuff.

plus, the thought made your stomach hurt. 

eventually, you grew old enough to value your privacy just as much. gone were the days of you sneaking glances over his shoulder and trying to guess his password while he wasn’t looking. 

*his password wasn’t your birthday. why wasn’t it your birthday? was it someone else’s birthday?

**it always was your birthday. just typed backwards. 

in all that time, you never would’ve guessed the thing he’d tried so hard to keep from you was his own sims fantasy land. 

he’d spent hours designing both of your appearances and outfits, chasing accuracy down to the pixel. once he was satisfied, he moved your household into an empty world, so that you were free to live as you were instead of who you should’ve been. 

he’s an astronaut, you’re a secret agent. you have a garden, but he always hires someone to tend to it so the plants don't command too much of your attention. his cooking skills are maxed out, as is your relationship level. and there’s a shiny silver band around your left ring finger. 

you have a mansion with a motherlode of things to entertain you: hot tub, cupcake machine, karaoke station, rocket ship. and rest assured, there’s a trusty cowplant in the back to deal with anyone who disrupts your peace. over the years, it has lured and devoured multiple incarnations of a certain black-haired, green-eyed, sweet-toothed genius who you could never seem to stop gushing over. 

and when the grey hairs come in for both of you, and your time starts winding down…well. he already has twin burial plots mapped out in the backyard, right in the middle of the apple orchard. 

not that he’s dreamed about a life with you, or anything. 

[humanjarvis]

growing up, caleb never let you see his computer. 

at first, you thought he was just being mean, hogging the highest-tech thing you’d ever seen all to himself. then, once you got old enough, you wondered if all the secrecy was for…nefarious reasons. but every time he smiled and ruffled your hair, you just couldn’t bring yourself to think he’d ever watch that kind of stuff.

plus, the thought made your stomach hurt. 

eventually, you grew old enough to value your privacy just as much. gone were the days of you sneaking glances over his shoulder and trying to guess his password while he wasn’t looking. 

*his password wasn’t your birthday. why wasn’t it your birthday? was it someone else’s birthday?

**it always was your birthday. just typed backwards. 

in all that time, you never would’ve guessed the thing he’d tried so hard to keep from you was his own sims fantasy land. 

he’d spent hours designing both of your appearances and outfits, chasing accuracy down to the pixel. once he was satisfied, he moved your household into an empty world, so that you were free to live as you were instead of who you should’ve been. 

he’s an astronaut, you’re a secret agent. you have a garden, but he always hires someone to tend to it so the plants don't command too much of your attention. his cooking skills are maxed out, as is your relationship level. and there’s a shiny silver band around your left ring finger. 

you have a mansion with a motherlode of things to entertain you: hot tub, cupcake machine, karaoke station, rocket ship. and rest assured, there’s a trusty cowplant in the back to deal with anyone who disrupts your peace. over the years, it has lured and devoured multiple incarnations of a certain black-haired, green-eyed, sweet-toothed genius who you could never seem to stop gushing over. 

and when the grey hairs come in for both of you, and your time starts winding down…well. he already has twin burial plots mapped out in the backyard, right in the middle of the apple orchard. 

not that he’s dreamed about a life with you, or anything. 

[humanjarvis]

omg author and fanfic writer?? i want to know everything about your book!! i, also, am writing a book and write fanfics hehe

hello! yayyy i love the fic writer to author pipeline, congrats on writing your book! feel free to share your story too if ur comfortable <3

mine is a very pop culture- & neurodivergence/mental health-forward romcom that follows a burnt-out pop star on hiatus and his animal-loving ex #1 fan. when his management team threatens to drop him if he doesn’t find the motivation to reignite his career, he finds that she’s the only one who can truly inspire him. despite her reservations—she feels betrayed by his disappearance from the public eye—he offers her a deal she can’t refuse: pose as his muse until his team agrees to stay, and he’ll give a life-changing donation to the animal rescue she’s loved since childhood.

fake dating, slow burn, one-sided enemies to lovers, obsessed pathetic male lead x 😐 female lead ensue!

this is not an official blurb or anything! i hope to share more information in the coming weeks for anyone who’d be interested in reading. (i want to self-publish by like. october but we’ll see lol.)

thank you for taking the time to ask it means a lot ☺️

[humanjarvis]

now that i’m set on self-publishing idk why i ever thought traditional publishing was a good fit for someone who needs control as much as i do 😭

but i’ve commissioned a great artist and now have a front cover that i’m really excited about! with mostly formatting and design stuff left, it really feels like i’m in the home stretch. hopefully

[humanjarvis]

dragon's blood

“ice?”

“shaved ice. there’s a difference.”

“ice.”

“yes, but it’s differe—”

“we’re in a line the length of a giraffe’s unfurled entrails, in the blistering sun and sweltering heat, for…ice. correct me if i’m wrong—that is what’s happening here, right, sweetie? i’m not hallucinating from heat exhaustion?” eyebrow raised to the sky, sylus gestures in front of you toward the admittedly endless queue for the snow cone shack. 

“well, if you are, the ice will help,” you retort, shuffling half an inch farther in line. “see! we’re moving forward. we’ll be at the front in no time!” 

just as he starts to respond, a child in front of you abandons his place in line. you’re incredibly eager to steal it—until he faces you with pouted lips and sweat running down his round cheeks. he barely hesitates before turning his big blue eyes on sylus. “you have a rolex,” he says matter-of-factly.

sylus looks as if a fly has landed on the rim of his wine glass. a mild inconvenience, but not the end of the world. “i do.”

“my brother says people with rolexes have money.”

“that’s a reasonable conclusion, in most cases.” sylus crosses his arms. “unless they're thieves.”

carefully, the boy sizes him up, analyzing his tank, shorts, and sandals. “are you a thief?”

red eyes narrow—an implicit challenge. “not presently.”

the child thinks to himself, then risks it anyway. “can i have some money? i want a large, but my brother only has enough for a small.” he points to a taller child a few places ahead in line who's too engrossed in his phone to notice his missing mini-me.

sylus flits his eyes to the older boy, then back down to his brother. “sugar is bad for you,” he chides.

“water is good for you,” the child rebuttals immediately. 

if he so chooses, he’ll have a bright future on any school’s debate team.

the fly is inching down the curve of the wine glass now, leering precariously close to the surface of a thousand-dollar vintage. grimacing, sylus shoos it away with a flick of his finger. “fine. this amount should cover larges for the both of you,” he concedes, pulling a bill out from his pocket. “but when the sugar crash comes, you know who to blame.”

“thank you!” the boy grabs the money and beams, scampering back to his brother. a second later, you turn to sylus, whose flat stare is already set on you.

“when the ambulance comes to treat my heat stroke, tell them i’m also suffering from the effects of extortion.”

──────

after what seems like hours, you watch the child skip away with a snowcone half the size of him. now that the path is finally clear, you make your way to the front of the food truck. 

shaking a bottle of neon red syrup, a raven-haired girl with a cute, crooked grin greets you. “what can i get for you, sweetheart?”

“uh…” is it possible to get a brain freeze without having eaten anything? “cotton candy?”

“perfect.” she winks. “a sweet treat for a sweet gi—”

“make hers an extra large please,” sylus interrupts, tugging you into him from behind. “and i’ll have this…dragon’s blood flavor,” he adds with a wry smile. “a large.”

──────

“so…” with a frigid burst of sweetness on your tongue, you stare at the red-orange heap of ice in sylus’s cup.

“so?”

“does this count as cannibalism?”

thinking for a moment, he shrugs. “depends on if i like it or not.”

before you can ask for elaboration, he raises his spoon to mouth. it's a fun visual—big rich guy, comparatively small metal bench, flimsy plastic utensil. like watching a giant drive a clown car. 

he swallows and closes his eyes, and you swear you hear him rumble in satisfaction. “it’s nice,” he decides after a moment. “tangy.”

your lips spread into a triumphant grin as he continues eating, and you lean in and waggle your eyebrows. “oh? so it was worth the wait, huh? admit it.” 

“oh, absolutely not.” 

your mouth is agape. chuckling, he reaches over to shut it. 

“it’s good, but not good enough for me to bake in the sun every time i get a craving.” he rises, stretches, and tosses his empty cup into the garbage bin. bright syrupy droplets splatter on the rim. “i’m going back to see if the owner of this shack is looking to relocate—ideally on the grounds of onychinus’s base.” he smirks. “and if we really want to pull it off,” he says, licking remnants of red off his full lips, “you should come with me. she seemed quite taken with you.”

[humanjarvis]

dragon's blood

“ice?”

“shaved ice. there’s a difference.”

“ice.”

“yes, but it’s differe—”

“we’re in a line the length of a giraffe’s unfurled entrails, in the blistering sun and sweltering heat, for…ice. correct me if i’m wrong—that is what’s happening here, right, sweetie? i’m not hallucinating from heat exhaustion?” eyebrow raised to the sky, sylus gestures in front of you toward the admittedly endless queue for the snow cone shack. 

“well, if you are, the ice will help,” you retort, shuffling half an inch farther in line. “see! we’re moving forward. we’ll be at the front in no time!” 

just as he starts to respond, a child in front of you abandons his place in line. you’re incredibly eager to steal it—until he faces you with pouted lips and sweat running down his round cheeks. he barely hesitates before turning his big blue eyes on sylus. “you have a rolex,” he says matter-of-factly.

sylus looks as if a fly has landed on the rim of his wine glass. a mild inconvenience, but not the end of the world. “i do.”

“my brother says people with rolexes have money.”

“that’s a reasonable conclusion, in most cases.” sylus crosses his arms. “unless they're thieves.”

carefully, the boy sizes him up, analyzing his tank, shorts, and sandals. “are you a thief?”

red eyes narrow—an implicit challenge. “not presently.”

the child thinks to himself, then risks it anyway. “can i have some money? i want a large, but my brother only has enough for a small.” he points to a taller child a few places ahead in line who's too engrossed in his phone to notice his missing mini-me.

sylus flits his eyes to the older boy, then back down to his brother. “sugar is bad for you,” he chides.

“water is good for you,” the child rebuttals immediately. 

if he so chooses, he’ll have a bright future on any school’s debate team.

the fly is inching down the curve of the wine glass now, leering precariously close to the surface of a thousand-dollar vintage. grimacing, sylus shoos it away with a flick of his finger. “fine. this amount should cover larges for the both of you,” he concedes, pulling a bill out from his pocket. “but when the sugar crash comes, you know who to blame.”

“thank you!” the boy grabs the money and beams, scampering back to his brother. a second later, you turn to sylus, whose flat stare is already set on you.

“when the ambulance comes to treat my heat stroke, tell them i’m also suffering from the effects of extortion.”

──────

after what seems like hours, you watch the child skip away with a snowcone half the size of him. now that the path is finally clear, you make your way to the front of the food truck. 

shaking a bottle of neon red syrup, a raven-haired girl with a cute, crooked grin greets you. “what can i get for you, sweetheart?”

“uh…” is it possible to get a brain freeze without having eaten anything? “cotton candy?”

“perfect.” she winks. “a sweet treat for a sweet gi—”

“make hers an extra large please,” sylus interrupts, tugging you into him from behind. “and i’ll have this…dragon’s blood flavor,” he adds with a wry smile. “a large.”

──────

“so…” with a frigid burst of sweetness on your tongue, you stare at the red-orange heap of ice in sylus’s cup.

“so?”

“does this count as cannibalism?”

thinking for a moment, he shrugs. “depends on if i like it or not.”

before you can ask for elaboration, he raises his spoon to mouth. it's a fun visual—big rich guy, comparatively small metal bench, flimsy plastic utensil. like watching a giant drive a clown car. 

he swallows and closes his eyes, and you swear you hear him rumble in satisfaction. “it’s nice,” he decides after a moment. “tangy.”

your lips spread into a triumphant grin as he continues eating, and you lean in and waggle your eyebrows. “oh? so it was worth the wait, huh? admit it.” 

“oh, absolutely not.” 

your mouth is agape. chuckling, he reaches over to shut it. 

“it’s good, but not good enough for me to bake in the sun every time i get a craving.” he rises, stretches, and tosses his empty cup into the garbage bin. bright syrupy droplets splatter on the rim. “i’m going back to see if the owner of this shack is looking to relocate—ideally on the grounds of onychinus’s base.” he smirks. “and if we really want to pull it off,” he says, licking remnants of red off his full lips, “you should come with me. she seemed quite taken with you.”

[shukillz]

starcro pony..

[starkissedxav]

@humanjarvis are you seeing this omg

[humanjarvis]

it’s all coming together!! most ambitious crossover in history

[humanjarvis]

Same anon that talked abt the writing style. I just wanted to add I don’t also just mean smut I mean in general. The way you write is so refreshing and I can’t explain why? Like you inspired me to start writing. And it’s been such a hard journey to get out of doing poetry and doing something so much more lighthearted like fan fiction and storytelling but it’s so fun! ur work is amazing. It’s all so articulate, the flow, the transitions, the way you do the whole “show don’t tell” and how u have a good amt of purple prose without getting lost like dude genuinely

Chefs kiss #biggestfanandmeanthat

IM REALLY SO GRATEFUL i needed this so bad 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 sad backstory yada ya but as i’ve said before i’ve only been writing creatively for a year and a half so!! still very new with a lot to learn so it’s always amazing to hear things like this. like i cannot fathom the idea of someone branching out with creative writing because of me. like seriously. 🥹

i was in a similar boat as you where before last year, i was kind of restricted to a particular kind of writing—i always thought academic/persuasive style stuff was the only thing i—not even was good at, but literally just could pull off. posting here has given me courage to try new things, so i’m so glad you’re getting to broaden the scope of your work!!

i always feel like i’m bad at responding to things like this but pls know u made my day and i appreciate u so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ofc always do what makes u comfortable but ur always welcome to message me!

[humanjarvis]

Girl I’ve been loving seeing ur process as u grow more comfortable writing smut. I genuinely admire ur writing style so much it’s insane. How quickly you just pick things up and stay in character. Like when I tell you, you are a genuine aspiration and inspiration I mean it <33

hello so. this means a lot especially when i always complain about how hard smut is to write lmao but i think i’ve figured out a few little tenets i like to abide by so this is so great to hear :3 it will never stop being awkward publishing it tho! and also like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ THANK YOU SO MUCH. I AM INSECURE ALWAYS BUT YOU ARE SO KIND

[humanjarvis]

valko being teased for his above-average size and vivid red hair as a child, so to boost his confidence the adults in his pack introduce him to the greatest show ever…

[humanjarvis]

ordering a hushpuppy in front of valko at a restaurant and he’s like why are you telling me to be quiet i didn’t even say anything

[humanjarvis]

when sylus has a long night, you know you'll have a long day.

when he returns from hours of annoyances, cleaning up and pulling on his black velvet robe, he doesn’t slink into bed like usual, trying his best not to disturb you despite the thrill he gets when you’re cranky. instead, he wakes you without remorse, gathers your weakly protesting form in his arms, and carries you to his favorite armchair—the one that overlooks the bustling nightscape from the balcony.

and once he sinks into the seat, sylus holds you captive. 

his kisses linger all over. they torture you with long, wet, scandalous sounds, amplified when he sometimes drags his hot, rough tongue against your softer skin.

through it all, he’s grunting his pleasure, huffing your scent the way he longed to earlier. he’s anchoring you to his lap, holding you over his bulge, suppressing your squirms in every direction. his skin is so warm—too warm—and your body quickly follows suit. 

“can i move, sylus?” you whine into his ear.

he ignores you, much too entranced with your body. 

“sylus.”

a soft growl leaves him as he comes up for air—now is not the time for talking.

“why,” he whispers, pressing a slow kiss to your temple, “would you want to do that? are you not enjoying the sunrise as much as i am?” 

“it hurts.” you gesture shyly between your legs, ghosting over your tingling clit. “and you’re not doing anything to make it better—just making it worse,” you slur, still disoriented from ruined sleep. “it’s uncomfy.” 

you feel his chuckle more than hear it—hot, heavy pants setting your nerves aflame. “uncomfy, hm?”

“yes. it’s too much.” to prove your point, you try to wriggle away. arms lock around your waist like iron. 

“ask me nicely.”

“please. i’ll stay here. just wanna get comfy.”

he tilts your head up to kiss you deeply, his broad, built chest heaving against yours. “go ahead, sweetie. get as comfy as you want. but while you do, know that i’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

[humanjarvis]

omg author and fanfic writer?? i want to know everything about your book!! i, also, am writing a book and write fanfics hehe

hello! yayyy i love the fic writer to author pipeline, congrats on writing your book! feel free to share your story too if ur comfortable <3

mine is a very pop culture- & neurodivergence/mental health-forward romcom that follows a burnt-out pop star on hiatus and his animal-loving ex #1 fan. when his management team threatens to drop him if he doesn’t find the motivation to reignite his career, he finds that she’s the only one who can truly inspire him. despite her reservations—she feels betrayed by his disappearance from the public eye—he offers her a deal she can’t refuse: pose as his muse until his team agrees to stay, and he’ll give a life-changing donation to the animal rescue she’s loved since childhood.

fake dating, slow burn, one-sided enemies to lovers, obsessed pathetic male lead x 😐 female lead ensue!

this is not an official blurb or anything! i hope to share more information in the coming weeks for anyone who’d be interested in reading. (i want to self-publish by like. october but we’ll see lol.)

thank you for taking the time to ask it means a lot ☺️

[humanjarvis]

sometimes writing and being on here feels bad and isolating but that’s okay

[humanjarvis]

stuck in an rv: lads LIs when they’re trapped on a hot summer day

scenario: mc sends the boys on a group trip as a team-building exercise. intending to enjoy a fun day at the beach, they become trapped in an rv during a heatwave with only half a bottle of water between them. lord of the flies ensues. 

*in this universe, they do not have evol because that would make escape extremely easy.

**inspired by the victorious episode!

it's valko's rv in the first place—he uses it to take the kids in his pack on camping trips, teaching them to thrive in the wild. usually, he keeps a healthy supply of rations, but the pups completely raided him last time and he forgot to restock. all he has is a half-full (half-empty, sylus argues) bottle of water in the cup holder. when he realizes they’re stuck, he tries to use his spare metalwork tools lying around to cut or break through the walls; he maybe even howls a few times to try to get bystanders’ attention. 

when neither strategy works, he’s not shy about stripping down to his underwear—“it’s hot in here, man” (caleb has never seen boxers with a built-in tail window before)

it’s scorching inside, and rafayel is crashing quick. the longer he sits there baking in the heat, the more he starts to look kind of like spongebob and patrick when they were all dried up on that table. his intermittent sips of water bring him back to lucidity, enough for him to offer solutions, but only momentarily. in between, he’s absolutely delirious from dehydration and, thus, out of commission. 

he wills his fish brethren to come and rescue him but they cannot walk.

sylus, with his greedy self, hogs the water bottle and drinks more than his share. he’s used to people being mad at him, so he doesn’t react much to everyone’s outrage. valko, however, is the only one agitated to the point of altercation; he nearly starts a fistfight over their limited resources, and it’s the most entertained sylus has been all day.

when the water runs out, he sprawls out in the corner and tsks. “well, i guess we’ll just have to eat him for sustenance, then,” he says, except he doesn’t specify which “him” he’s referring to. everyone backs away from him and keeps an eye on him at all times.

he secretly has an extra bottle of water in his bag the whole time. when questioned on why he never said anything, he answers, “you never asked.” 

zayne is the only thing holding the group together. ever the mediator, he selflessly demands that rafayel get the largest share of water since, biologically, he needs it the most. because he tends to run cold, he alternates placing his palms on valko’s forehead since his hair/fur is so thick and insulating. sometimes when he shifts positions, it feels like he's petting him, and valko’s wolf ears pop up. they both ignore it. sylus stares amusedly from the corner. 

when sylus and valko are at each other’s throats, zayne bravely puts himself between them, with a loopy rafayel chanting lemurian mantras to himself in the background. caleb just stares in disappointment.

in the chaos, caleb is dead set on finding a solution. he fiddles with the door and windows trying to finesse his way out, and he refuses his ration of water, to his own detriment. rafayel is grateful for the extra share, but sylus thinks he’s dumb—altruism doesn’t ensure survival.

since they have no cell service, he tries to fiddle with the rv’s radio to make contact—anything he can think of, really. when that doesn’t work, he tries to preserve his energy. it’s an endless war at this point; he has no idea how long he’ll be stuck in here. 

eventually, after redoubling his efforts and tinkering endlessly with the door, he finally manages to work it open and set everyone free

xavier was supposed to join the others in the rv, but he slept in and they left without him. instead, he took the bus to the beach and got there an hour later. through the window, the others spot him walking around in confusion and bang on the glass to get his attention; they yell for him to find help, and he accepts the mission. three minutes later, he gets roped into handing out recruitment flyers for a youth volleyball team. 

once they’re free, the others track him down. he’s licking a blue ice cream cone, surrounded by squealing, sandy children. “oh,” he says. “i’m glad you guys didn’t need my help.”

their first venture into the ocean that afternoon is the five of them chasing him into the water.

mc, having been lounging on a beach chair for hours watching this all unfold from afar (totally would've intervened had the circumstances become dire), supposes this does count as a team-building exercise at the end of the day—operation “hang xavier from his ankles” is a go.

[humanjarvis]

stuck in an rv: lads LIs when they’re trapped on a hot summer day

scenario: mc sends the boys on a group trip as a team-building exercise. intending to enjoy a fun day at the beach, they become trapped in an rv during a heatwave with only half a bottle of water between them. lord of the flies ensues. 

*in this universe, they do not have evol because that would make escape extremely easy.

**inspired by the victorious episode!

it's valko's rv in the first place—he uses it to take the kids in his pack on camping trips, teaching them to thrive in the wild. usually, he keeps a healthy supply of rations, but the pups completely raided him last time and he forgot to restock. all he has is a half-full (half-empty, sylus argues) bottle of water in the cup holder. when he realizes they’re stuck, he tries to use his spare metalwork tools lying around to cut or break through the walls; he maybe even howls a few times to try to get bystanders’ attention. 

when neither strategy works, he’s not shy about stripping down to his underwear—“it’s hot in here, man” (caleb has never seen boxers with a built-in tail window before)

it’s scorching inside, and rafayel is crashing quick. the longer he sits there baking in the heat, the more he starts to look kind of like spongebob and patrick when they were all dried up on that table. his intermittent sips of water bring him back to lucidity, enough for him to offer solutions, but only momentarily. in between, he’s absolutely delirious from dehydration and, thus, out of commission. 

he wills his fish brethren to come and rescue him but they cannot walk.

sylus, with his greedy self, hogs the water bottle and drinks more than his share. he’s used to people being mad at him, so he doesn’t react much to everyone’s outrage. valko, however, is the only one agitated to the point of altercation; he nearly starts a fistfight over their limited resources, and it’s the most entertained sylus has been all day.

when the water runs out, he sprawls out in the corner and tsks. “well, i guess we’ll just have to eat him for sustenance, then,” he says, except he doesn’t specify which “him” he’s referring to. everyone backs away from him and keeps an eye on him at all times.

he secretly has an extra bottle of water in his bag the whole time. when questioned on why he never said anything, he answers, “you never asked.” 

zayne is the only thing holding the group together. ever the mediator, he selflessly demands that rafayel get the largest share of water since, biologically, he needs it the most. because he tends to run cold, he alternates placing his palms on valko’s forehead since his hair/fur is so thick and insulating. sometimes when he shifts positions, it feels like he's petting him, and valko’s wolf ears pop up. they both ignore it. sylus stares amusedly from the corner. 

when sylus and valko are at each other’s throats, zayne bravely puts himself between them, with a loopy rafayel chanting lemurian mantras to himself in the background. caleb just stares in disappointment.

in the chaos, caleb is dead set on finding a solution. he fiddles with the door and windows trying to finesse his way out, and he refuses his ration of water, to his own detriment. rafayel is grateful for the extra share, but sylus thinks he’s dumb—altruism doesn’t ensure survival.

since they have no cell service, he tries to fiddle with the rv’s radio to make contact—anything he can think of, really. when that doesn’t work, he tries to preserve his energy. it’s an endless war at this point; he has no idea how long he’ll be stuck in here. 

eventually, after redoubling his efforts and tinkering endlessly with the door, he finally manages to work it open and set everyone free

xavier was supposed to join the others in the rv, but he slept in and they left without him. instead, he took the bus to the beach and got there an hour later. through the window, the others spot him walking around in confusion and bang on the glass to get his attention; they yell for him to find help, and he accepts the mission. three minutes later, he gets roped into handing out recruitment flyers for a youth volleyball team. 

once they’re free, the others track him down. he’s licking a blue ice cream cone, surrounded by squealing, sandy children. “oh,” he says. “i’m glad you guys didn’t need my help.”

their first venture into the ocean that afternoon is the five of them chasing him into the water.

mc, having been lounging on a beach chair for hours watching this all unfold from afar (totally would've intervened had the circumstances become dire), supposes this does count as a team-building exercise at the end of the day—operation “hang xavier from his ankles” is a go.