idealhours
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"Are you, uh, awake?"
Z -- ornamentally dressed in skin, saw-edged with goosebumps and his carpals like rolling hills on the plains of his wrists -- splays his palm over the entity's sternum. ReGect's heart beats mechanically, a faint sheen of oil dribbling out of his exposed golden ventricles.
"Just lonely," Z admits faintly, and unspools into the dream.
~
or: sometimes, purgatory is an achingly solid dream of driving home from the airport.Series
- Part 2 of regect stuff
Bookmarked by idealhours
04 Jan 2026
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“I have a bed,” Z points out, as if this is news.
He gets the sense that Regect is rolling his eyes. “Yes, I know that, bum.”
“You could always… Bunk with me,” says Z. “For a night. To see how it’s like.”
Bookmarked by idealhours
04 Jan 2026