#i really need to fix my stupid sleep schedule -_-

[cupcakegalaxia]

I like speculating what certain charcaters looks like as their opposites. So eliatrope!Adamai I guess.

[averagecatdoodlesenjoyer]

genuinely can't tell the difference between what was two days ago and what was two weeks ago is this bad

[set-wingedwarrior]

I am considering skipping afternoon class today.

This morning I woke up (early) with anxiety, so I am feeling both tired and nervous, and I got a 3 hours awful class I just must follow (the one that was canceled last week, so I really need to follow today since it's the first day). This afternoon I got two more hours of another one that I actually enjoy, but I think I will be just too exhausted for today.

Idk, I guess I'll see how I feel later, but considering my eyes are hurting out of need to sleep I am not optimistic.

[moraxine]

Fragments of Us [Ekko]

pairing: ekko x reader

words: 2k

summary: ekko wakes up in an alternate universe where you’re alive and everything feels right—but it’s not his world. torn between love and duty, he must leave to save his reality.

ARCANE SPOILERS!

i.

“Powder. Ugh, she’s so annoying sometimes. I told her that the graffiti on Sevika’s stupid bar wasn’t even that good—like, come on, who even uses pink for a skull?—and she just flipped out ! Called me a ‘wannabe artist.’ Like, okay?”

Ekko’s chest burns as he violently jolts awake, aware , coughing as if he’s been drowning moments before. His head is pounding, all memories flooding his mind and spinning round and round. It takes a few moments for his vision to stabilise and start clearing up.

What the hell happened?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, familiar yet a voice he never thought his ears would detect ever again, he freezes. His eyes snap open, adjusting to the dim glow of the neon streetlamp. After a while of simply blinking, right hand on his forehead, he dares to turn your way, only to face you in utter shock.

There you are, right beside him, nervously fiddling with a small gadget in your hand while waiting for his answer.

Ekko’s breath gets caught in his throat.

His gaze desperately darts around, taking in the distorted version of Zaun. The buildings look eerily familiar but cleaner, more polished. And then there is you —alive, bright-eyed, rambling as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

“You’re staring at me like I’ve got two heads or something. All good in there?” You ask, leaning closer as you gently tap his head.

No, no, no.

This must be some kind of twisted joke, a dream soon to turn into a nightmare, like the ones he experienced after your passing.

A strong wave of dizziness takes over and he loses balance. You’re not fast enough to catch him and he collapses on the floor, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“Shit, Ekko, I told you I’m fine walking home by myself! You need to focus on fixing that sleep schedule of yours. You work too much….”

You kneel down to check on him but as soon as you reach for his arm, he manages to pull himself up, wincing as his muscles protest. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Just… where am I?”

Your brow furrows. “Zaun, duh. Did you hit your head?”

Zaun. But not his Zaun. This is different. Cleaner. Sharper. Brighter. Wrong.

You wave a hand in front of his face when he’s up on his feet again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Seriously, you’re acting super weird.”

He shakes his head, trying to gather himself. “I’m… just tired.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say, leaning back on your heels. “Well, you can sleep at my place if you want. It’s a bit of a mess, but it’s better than the middle of the street.”

“Why…Why are you helping me?”

I didn’t protect you. I let you die-

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You have to be kidding me, really.”

He stares at you, his chest tightening. You are so casual, so warm, so alive. This isn’t his world—it is someone else’s. Someone’s whom was able to keep you safe and happy.

You wave a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo? You good, or do I need to drag you there myself?”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his trance. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” you say grabbing his arm. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend, y’know.”

As you lead him down the street, continuing your pointless rambling about Powder and some argument over graffiti, Ekko follows silently, his mind racing. He doesn’t belong here, but for the first time in years, being near you feels like he is home.

ii.

Ekko is standing in the corner of your cluttered workshop, his fingers trembling slightly as he tightens the final screws on a device he barely understands anymore. Weeks have been spent scavenging parts, tearing apart old tech, and sketching blueprints on scraps of paper. The machine is almost ready—his way out of this world is almost ready.

You, of course, don’t know. In fact, you seem to know nothing about Ekko lately. Ever since that incident outside the bar, he’s been acting strange in a way you can’t pinpoint.

“Hey, genius,” you call from across the room, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’re perched on a high stool, playing with a broken clock. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours. What is it, anyway?”

He stiffens at your question, keeping his face carefully neutral. “Just… something to help me get around. It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Since when do you get all secretive about your projects? You used to brag about your tech every chance you got.”

“Since now,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

It’s been this way for quite some time now—Ekko growing quieter, more distant, all while you try to bridge the gap with your usual chatter. You’ve noticed the way he avoids your eyes, the way he flinches whenever you stand too close. It’s not like him.

And it hurts.

“You’re acting weird, Ekko,” you admit, setting the clock down and leaning back on your hands. “Like, even weirder than usual. Did I do something?”

“No,” he says quickly, but his voice sounds strained, and the single word only makes you more assured that there is indeed something going on.

“Then what?” you press, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Is this about Powder? Because if so, she’s the one being difficult, not me.”

Ekko clenches his jaw, his hands tightening around the tool in his grip. He can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand—not fully. How could he possibly explain that you’re not even supposed to be here? That this version of you isn’t his you? That in his world, you’re just a memory he carries like a scar?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, his voice low. “Just… drop it, okay?”

You flinch at the coldness in his tone, but you force a laugh, trying to mask the sting. “Fine. Be mysterious, then. See if I care.”

Turning away, you pretend to focus on the clock again, but your heart isn’t in it. You want to push him, demand answers, but something in his expression stops you. There’s a pain in his eyes that you can’t quite place, and for the first time, you wonder if this is bigger than any conflict he might have had with people in the past.

Ekko exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. He hates doing this—pushing you away. But if he lets you in, it’ll only make leaving harder.

Because he is leaving. As much as he wants to stay, to pretend this is his life, he knows it isn’t real. He doesn’t belong here. And the longer he stays, the harder it’ll be to say goodbye. Especially to you.

“Hey,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence. “For what it’s worth, you’re still my favorite nerd. Even if you’re being a jerk.”

He looks up at you, startled by the softness in your voice. For a moment, he wants to tell you everything—to explain why he can’t let himself get too close. To tell you he loves you. But that would be partially true as you’re not his. Instead, he just nods. “Thank you.”

You offer him a small yet warm smile and his resolve falters for a moment. But then his gaze falls on the machine again—his way out—and he reminds himself why he has to do this.

It’s almost done. Just a little longer.

iii.

Ekko stands in the middle of the workshop, his hand resting on the activation lever of the machine. The room hums faintly with power, the cobbled-together contraption sparking faintly as it waits for his final command. It’s ready. After days of work, this is it—it’s time to go back to the people who need him.

But his chest feels tight, and it’s not just from the lingering ache of exhaustion. It’s because of you.

The door creaks open, and his heart sinks. You’re standing there, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and anger. “What the hell is this?” you ask, stepping inside. “Ekko, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. “It’s… nothing.”

“Nothing?” you snap, gesturing at the machine. “You’ve been shutting me out for God knows how long, and now I find you messing with… whatever this is you’ve made? Don’t lie to me, Ekko.”

He finally meets your eyes, and the raw emotion there almost makes him crumble. But he takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can’t explain it.”

You take a step closer, your frustration giving way to hurt. “Why? Why can’t you just tell me? I’m not mad—I just… I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this.”

Ekko clenches his fists, his mind racing. He could tell you the truth—about the alternate universe, about the fact that you don’t even exist anymore in his world. But what good would it do?

“It’s better this way,” he replies quietly.

Your hands drop to your sides, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks him. “Better for who? For me? Or for you?”

“Y/n…” His voice cracks, but he quickly swallows it down. “I don’t belong here. I need to leave. That’s all I can say.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “You’re lying. You’ve been here all this fucking time, and now you’re just… leaving? Without a word?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do!” you shout, stepping closer until you’re right in front of him. “Whatever this is, whoever you think you are—you’re my… friend, Ekko. You don’t just get to disappear without telling me why.”

His hands tremble as he reaches up to touch your shoulder, his gaze locked on yours. “You are—” His voice breaks, and he has to force himself to keep going. “You’re amazing. You’re… everything good about this place. You’re the reason I’m still alive. But I can’t stay.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding. His words feel final, and the weight of them crushes you completely. You fail to understand. Nothing makes sense, absolutely nothing. “Why?” you whisper, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Why can’t you stay? Is it something I did?”

“No!” he says, more forcefully than he means to. He takes your hands, holding them tightly. “It’s not you. It’s… me. It’s my world. I need to go back to where I came from.”

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying, but the desperation in his voice silences your questions. You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Fine,” you say, even though it’s anything but fine. “If you have to go… go.”

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer before he lets go. “I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me,” he says softly. “But I can’t. Not here.”

Tears spill over as you watch him turn back to the machine. “Will I ever see you again?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He hesitates, his hand hovering over the lever. “I don’t know.”

That’s all he can give you.

With one last look at you, his expression filled with regret and longing, he pulls the lever. The machine sparks to life, and the air around him ripples with energy. You take a step back, shielding your eyes as the light grows blinding.

When the light fades, he’s there, his tired body slumped down on the ground. You immediately run to his side, kneeling down and pulling him to your lap. The room falls silent, the only sound the faint hum of the now blown up machine. You gently caress his cheek, tears running down your hot cheeks.

After a while, he wakes up.

And it doesn’t take you very long to realise.

You glance at the remains one last time.

And you hope that wherever he is, he’s doing what he set out to do—saving his people, his world, even if it meant leaving this one behind.

[leashybebes]

this isn't quite a fix-it, but it opens the door to fix it. also i have had a real shitty week for a whole host of reasons and i'm getting out my sads. sorry!

Tommy drives away from Evan's - Buck's - the loft - for the last time feeling like he's been gutted. Liked he's gutting himself. He has to pull over at one point just to breathe, just so that if he's not driving he can't pull a highly illegal u-turn in the middle of the road and go back. 

The first voicemail is on his phone by the time he gets home. For a long, wavering moment, he thinks he isn't going to listen to it, but it never really feels like an option. In the cab of his truck, Tommy hits play. The message is thirteen seconds of silence, an inhale, and the dial tone. Tommy listens to it three times, turns the volume all the way up, blocks his other ear. 

It's just silence.

Everything is just silence.

—

The second message comes three days later, sometime during his shift, when he'd voluntarily benched himself for the first time in years, spent the day doing maintenance, his phone tucked away in his locker so he can stop feeling stupid for reflexively checking it every five minutes. Two weeks from now, he won't know Evan's schedule, but right now he knows he's on shift and part of him can't help anticipating those regular little updates. He knows they won't come - in his head he knows it, but his stupid, cowardly, aching heart is taking a minute to get with the programme.

That same stupid heart leaps when he sees the notification at the end of his shift. It plummets again quick enough, because he knows - he blew it all up so severely there's no way the message can be anything other than anger or practicalities, so he waits until he gets home to listen to it. It's not much longer than the silent one from the other day, but it's so much worse.

"I'm gonna send Eddie over with your stuff. Can you give him my things, please."

It sounds flat, rehearsed, awful. Tommy tells himself he doesn't have the right to feel sad, lets his eyes slide away from the bottle of scotch in the cupboard and goes for a late night drive instead.

When he gets home, he gathers the stuff Evan had left around over the course of the last six months - clothes, a phone charger, aftershave. He packs them into a box with his key to the loft, thinking about how he never used it unless he got there before Evan, thinking about all the lines he drew without even realising it. He tucks his heating pad in between two of Evan's shirts - Tommy doesn't get much use out of it anyway, and Evan always loved it on days when his leg flared up. Hopefully they can write it off as an oversight on his part, but he wants Evan to have it.

The conversation with Eddie is painfully awkward. Tommy doesn't dare to ask how Evan is doing, and Eddie doesn't need to ask Tommy how he is; it's written all over his face. He hasn't been sleeping, hasn't been working out. He hasn't been drinking either, but only because his self-imposed rules about when he's allowed to drink forbid it.

"Don't be a stranger," Eddie says as he's leaving. 

Tommy knows he will be. Enough time, enough distance, and he'll be a stranger to them all all over again. He'll be a memory for Evan for a while, but give it long enough, and he'll be a memory he doesn't remember. It'll be okay. It'll all be okay.

—

The third message comes a few weeks later. Tommy's out on another aimless drive - he doesn't love spending time at home anymore. He knows it'll get better, but for now, he's spending pretty much all his waking hours in his car, at the gym, and at work. Like the very first message, he stays in the cab of the truck when he listens to this one. He's glad he managed to put off listening until he got home because this - this is the one that devastates him.

"Hey, Tommy. It's Evan. Well, Buck, I guess."

Evan's drunk, and Tommy should stop listening to the message right now, for his own sanity, and for Evan's dignity come the morning. But his voice…

"I'm real glad I didn't break your heart, Tommy." It sounds mean, sharp, so un-Evan, but it's followed by a silence, and then, "I am. I actually am." There's another silence, a sniffle. "Wish you didn't break mine, but… whatever. Be safe, Tommy."

In the cab of his truck, clasping his phone so hard he's distantly a little worried he might crack the screen, Tommy cries for the first time.

—

There's a month and a half of silence after that, and he hopes that means Evan is moving on. Tommy gets back home from a failed attempt to visit an old hook-up spot and get out of his head for the night. He's had a few drinks because it didn't break the rules (it wasn't a bad shift, he wasn't alone and okay, yes, he's sad, but if he sticks religiously to that rule he might never know the simple pleasure of a cold beer ever again), but he's not drunk enough for it to cushion the blow when he flops down on his cold bed and hits play.

"Hey, uh. Happy birthday, Tommy. I hope you had a good day."

He didn't.

—

A month later.

"I went on a date tonight. It was with a woman though, so I'm gonna guess I'm still not queer the right way for you, huh? Fuck you, Tommy. My date fucking sucked."

Tommy feels about two feet tall, and like that's exactly how he deserves to feel. His thumb hovers over the block button for less than a second - he owes Evan the outlet, and that awful, scared little masochist that lives in the heart of him won't turn down the opportunity to let Evan's voice claw at him every chance he gets.

—

He tells himself he's not going to listen to the next message that comes through, but he's briefly very glad he does.

"Hey, Tommy. I wanted you to know - Maddie and Chim are having another baby. It's past three months so they're telling people now. I, uh - I just wanted you to know. Um." Abruptly, Evan sounds on the verge of tears. "I miss you, you dick. I wanted that with you. Fuck."

And then he's back to feeling crushed. It wouldn't have worked out. It wouldn't have. But he's sorry that Evan's still hurting. His own hurt is - it's just the baseline of his existence turned up a little louder than usual. It'll pass.

He tells himself that every day, every hour, every minute. It'll pass, it'll pass, it'll pass.

Howie texts him the same news later that day. Tommy thinks the message he sends back is perfectly normal, but Howie shows up at his door that night with a six pack of beer and that annoyingly perceptive air about him that makes Tommy feel seen and unsafe in the exact same way it has since the day they met.

The first beer, they talk about the pregnancy in light ways. Howie's excited. Maddie's perfect. Jee's ecstatic. Tommy's happy for them.

The second beer, Howie talks about how scared he is. How they have set ground rules and they're sticking to them, but he's walking through the world with a little core of fear inside him. Tommy almost cries.

The third beer, Howie asks how he's doing. Tommy does cry. Just a little, and he turns his face away quick enough that Howie doesn't see. He still knows, though.

"He leaves me these voicemails," Tommy says, and he sounds wrecked even to his own ears. "I know I don't - I don't have the right to miss him, but it - "

"Tommy."

"It hurts, Howie."

"I know, bud," Howie says, his hand on the back of Tommy's neck, a rough squeeze.. "I know."

—

The next message is the beginning of the end of it all. Tommy's actually had a - not terrible day. He flew four times, the sky was perfect, the calls went well. They had really good tacos for lunch at the station. 

The message is waiting for him when he gets home. Evan sounds - subdued.

"Hey, Tommy. Listen, I'm gonna - I'm gonna stop calling. I'm - you hurt me. You really, really hurt me. But I think I might be hurting you too, still, and I hate that, even if I'm mad at you. I'm really mad at you, and I think - I think I'm just gonna stay mad at you unless something changes. So I'd - I'd like to see you. Talk. Say - some things. Say goodbye. It's okay if you don't want to. But I'd like to. Let me know if you wanna. And if not, then, I don't know. Bye, I guess."

Bye, I guess. 

Tommy hesitates for less time than he'd like to admit. Maybe he can just ignore this one like he has all the others (is ignore the right word if they have become the constant background soundtrack to his waking hours and woven themselves into his dreams?) and Evan will be as good as his word - stop calling, stay mad, hate Tommy, but move on from him.

But it's Evan, and he's asking for something from Tommy, and the one and only time Tommy turned him down for something he really wanted, he hurt them both so bad. The least he owes Evan - the very least - is closure. And if it drives the shards of heartbreak deeper into Tommy then, hey, whatever, he's pretty sure those shards are a feature not a bug, by this point.

He navigates to their message thread, carefully doesn't look at the most recent communications - a silly joke, a heart, a can't wait to see you - and tries to find the words to reply.

—

It's not somewhere they've ever been before, and Tommy feels like that was probably deliberate on Evan's part. Still, the scene is so familiar it makes Tommy's steps falter. Evan, at a table in the sunshine, two coffee cups in front of him. He looks beautiful. He looks nervous. He looks tired. He's chosen a table away from any of the other patrons.

Part of Tommy wants to run. The rest of him knows he owes Evan the bravery he couldn't give him all those months ago, and he approaches the table, hands in his pockets.

Evan looks up, smiles like it's a reflex, but it falls away from his face like he's remembered he's mad at Tommy.

"Thanks for coming."

Tommy shrugs. "Of course."

[earlysunshines]

routines and repeats

pham hanni x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you and hanni have a routine, something like that, maybe a little far off... maybe it's not really a routine -- it doesn't really matter because hanni's apart of it.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: none?? ; not proofread

a/n: wrote this in one sitting again muahhaha enjoy thank u for the support and attention and love and jaajksdlfdsal everything for my newjeans fics :-} love u all

you and hanni have settled into a comfortable rhythm. it's not exactly a routine in the traditional sense—nowhere near as meticulously organized as minji's planner of goals and daily tasks, nor as structured as haerin's repetitive art gig schedule. but whatever it is between you and hanni, it's uniquely yours.

but you and hanni have found your own thing, a sort of groove that makes you both content. it's the kind of routine where things just naturally fall into place, where you spend time together without needing a plan, and that's what really matters. 

there's no set list of things to do, nothing is really planned (unless there's a very special occasion), but there are noticeable patterns and repeats of things that happen here and there. 

what matters is that you two are happy with how disorganized and scattered things are because that’s what fits the two of you perfectly. with everything so in order and mapped out, where’s the flexibility? where’s the fun? besides, you and hanni like what you have, and this spontaneous routine brings a smile to your faces at the end of the day.

–

you’ve been together long enough to know that hanni is either taking up most of the space of the bed, or clinging onto you like a koala and breathing into your neck with her mouth half open. despite how stupid she looks while sleeping, it only makes you love her more.

she’s usually the last to wake up and always woken up by you. on weekdays, you poke her cheek after hearing her alarm or shake her up a bit, but she never budges. 

“hanni you have a class in less than two hours…” you mumble, not wanting to be up either. 

“that means one more hour to sleep… please babe.”

“absolutely not. you won’t have time to eat or get ready and then you’ll whine and complain and–”

your girlfriend cuts you off with another groan, slowly removing herself from the crook of your neck with her eyes still closed. you squint at her and smile sleepily, rubbing your eyes before you fix her messy bedhead.

hanni opens her eyes just barely to see you grinning at her, earning a pout from your girlfriend.

“i don’t want to get up.”

“me neither, but you have to.”

“do i?” she frowns as you get up from where you are, watching you lean against the bedframe as you yawn.

“do you want your degree? think about the job you’ll have and the pets we’ll have and our life and–”

“shut up shut up okay! fine.” hanni responds, making you laugh.

every morning, you kiss her on the cheek, forehead, or hand because you two made a pact not to initiate anything lip to lip due to morning breath. at least that’s set in stone; maybe you can be organized if there’s something guaranteed to happen every morning. this small ritual brings a sense of comfort and consistency, grounding your otherwise scattered routine.

additionally, you two take turns showering every morning – usually you’re first. hanni always takes a while longer since she’s fond of warmer water on her skin in comparison to your cold showers as the sun rises. and then you two brush your teeth together, hanni’s usually sitting on the counter glancing at your tired features while you stare into the mirror and hum a small song. 

hanni likes to stay silent and simply enjoy your presence, she’s a firm believer that if you start your day off with something great, then the day can only get better from there.

(she thinks you’re more than great, so everyday is a wonderful day.)

-

hanni usually gets back from her classes about ninety minutes before you head to work, so you use that time to spend together. the afternoon to evening hours are when you miss each other the most, so these precious minutes become your little oasis, a pocket of time where everything else fades away and it's just the two of you, making the most of your time together before life pulls you in different directions.

you're usually either making lunch or catching up on your own tasks by the time she arrives home, something you've grown accustomed to. her arrival marks a familiar cadence in your day, a moment when the energy of the house shifts subtly to accommodate her presence.

you feel arms wrapping around your waist and a head on your shoulder (she has to go on the tips of her toes to do this), you don’t even turn around, knowing it’s hanni.

“hey lover.”

“hello beautiful.” hanni says before kissing your cheek, missing a little and ending up with hair meeting her lips istead of your skin. “missed you.”

“missed you more. how were your classes?”

hanni always says the same thing, or something similar at least. “it was whatever, boring as always.”

“aw, at least you’re back. i’m making rice bowls, go unwind okay?”

“mhm, love you.” she kisses your cheek – not missing this time – and starts for your shared room in the single bedroom apartment. 

it doesn’t take long for her to return, now wearing a different t-shirt (yours), before she's back to clinging onto you while you pack up your lunch box and prepare her meal. hanni eventually ends up sitting on the counter, legs dangling, as she watches you and sings along to your shared playlist. you can't resist giving her a little kiss here and there – just because – since it's impossible not to when she's around.

you hand her the bowl of rice and chicken, a simple meal but seasoned to perfection in hanni’s opinion.

she has her legs wrapped around your waist as she pulls you in, taking a bite of the food you’ve made her and melting. she nods her head, clearly enjoying the meal.

“yeah, this is ass.” 

you scoff as you watch her devour another bite. “right, you’re eating it like the bowl is about to run away from you.”

hanni shrugs. “mid, wouldn’t recommend actually.”

“aw, i guess i shouldn’t cook anymore – ever — since it’s so bad.”

“yeah.” hanni giggles after she finishes her bite, smiling at you like an idiot. “it’s whatever, you’re already very delicious to the eyes.”

“oh my god, you piss me off.” you lie, starting to smile and laugh at her. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

“crazy take but okay.”

hanni rolls her eyes before you get up to finish boxing your lunch, putting it in your work bag and zipping it up. she frowns watching you, not really fond of the fact that you’re leaving her for a few hours.

the two of you always spend the afternoons on the four days that you work together on the couch for a bit, cuddled together as hanni finishes up some work or rereads notes on her laptop. you like this pattern; you adore being near your girlfriend. the warmth of her presence and the simple pleasure of being close make those moments precious to you.

(you don’t care if this isn’t something that would be written on a planner, besides, ‘cuddles at 12:20 sound stupid written out.)

you just like the flow and simplicity of your days. it doesn’t matter, really. as long as hanni is involved and beside you.)

—

your shared evenings and nights vary depending on the day. it’s always unorganized.

sometimes you’re out shopping for essentials, and it’s usually spontaneous, with hanni fighting for her life to make a list and remember everything the two of you need in your shared fridge all within a ten-minute drive. it makes you laugh hearing her curse as she forgets whether you’ve run out of protein for your meals or if you already used the backup conditioner and need a new one. 

on weekends or holidays when time allows, you often find yourselves cozied up together. whether it's snuggled on the couch watching a movie, or out for a quiet dinner or a stroll to some hidden gem haerin discovered, these moments are cherished. hanni's arms wrap around you, her hoodie soon becoming your cozy shield against the chill of the evening, leaving you in just a tank top or a soft t-shirt. the feeling of contentment washes over you as you lean back into her warmth, sighing with a smile, savoring each precious moment together.

other nights, you’re out with your friend group, usually downtown or at one of their apartments. hanni always stays close to you, holding your hand or linking arms with you, while danielle and minji debate over which store to check out or which restaurant is better. even as the whole group— you, hanni, haerin, hyein (if she’s not busy with high school stuff), danielle, and minji— dives into deep conversations or somehow ends up arguing, you and hanni are experiencing and engaging in everything together. there’s almost never a night without her by your side.

but most of the time you’re in bed finishing up school work as hanni finishes her very lengthy nightcare routine, waiting for her to show up at the doorway with a towel loosely sitting on her head with her lips turned up as soon as she spots you.

“took you long enough.”

“hey! you take long too… you’re just always going first– this isn’t fair!”

using exaggerated hand movements, you pantomime hanni's animated way of speaking, complete with imaginary dialogue in the air. hanni flips you off and you pretend to be offended, making the two of you laugh. 

(this is one of your favorite parts of the little routine/groove you two have.)

hanni collapses onto the bed, finding solace in the comfort of your arms. you're engrossed in your laptop, catching up on tasks or maybe just browsing, while she snuggles closer. hanni is very affectionate whether she realizes it or not and it’s apparent as she peppers kisses on your exposed skin, each touch a gentle reminder of her presence and how much she treasures you. even with her phone in hand, she steals these moments to show her love, her lips brushing against your cheek or neck. 

“hey– i just need to finish this! you’re distracting me…” you mutter, which only urges her to kiss you more. “that tickles!”

“finish it quicker…” hanni groans before pressing one last kiss on your lips. you turn to look at her, pouting as you reach to pinch her cheek. she giggles before you flick her forehead. “hey!”

you like to provoke her, she’s adorable when she’s annoyed – even if it’s for a split second.

once your laptop closes and your attention turns fully to her, hanni seizes the opportunity. her kisses shift from playful to tender, each one a testament to her adoration. 

“how was your day?” she mumbles against you.

you kiss her softly before reaching over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, the table with polaroids of the two of you in a pile on it. “tiring, i was thinking of you.”

“you always are.”

“well now i’m never thinking of you again.” you joke. 

hanni scoffs playfully. you move over to lay down fully, letting out a soft sigh as hanni rests her head on your arm. “what else did you think about?”

“just you, really… i can’t remember anything else. i was thinking about the next time we could have dinner, my coworker irene recommended this place not too far away.”

“mm really?”

“yeah, they’ve got some korean-mexican fusion or something like that.”

you hear her yawn, it makes you smile. hanni feels the soft beat of your heart against her hand, then snuggles closer to you. “that sounds good.”

“you know what else sounds good?” you ask softly.

“hm?”

“you going to sleep and not complaining in the morning.”

hanni giggles quietly as she twirls your hair absentmindly with her finger. “i’ll consider it.”

“sure you will.” you murmur. you move hair away from her forehead before twisting your neck uncomfortably just to kiss her there. “goodnight, i love you.”

“i love you more.”

“uh huh.” 

and perhaps it is some sort of routine, whatever dynamic exists between you and hanni. it may not be as strategically planned as minji's structured days on that planner of hers, or as regimented as hyein's packed schedule after school, but it's uniquely yours. 

you can't quite define it, but the familiar rhythms and recurring moments, even amidst the variations each day brings, have become comforting and essential. 

whether it's hanni's morning grumbles or the shared laughs over unexpected turns, you cherish every part of it. as long as hanni remains a constant in your routine, you’re content.

[borathae]

"Jungkook loves having a break from work because it means that he can make you breakfast in the morning and welcome you home with dinner."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff

Warnings: Jungkook being a cutie, cozy mornings, casual use of Bunny & Mommy as non-kinky petnames, kisses, flirting because they're in love!

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: this was planned for january but we all need fluff more than smut rn so i decided to switch up my schedule a little. i hope this can cheer you guys up.

You wake up in darkness like most mornings because you and your husband prefer to have the electric blinds down. And like most mornings, the first thing you do is look for him in the darkness by swiping your hand over the sheets. However, unlike most mornings, you can’t locate him today. He must have gotten up already, which was weird considering he had the day off today. 

Because of one of his countless work trips, he has this week off. He gave himself that rule. The longer the work trip was and the higher the stress level, the longer he'll relax at home as balance. He wasn’t home for a month this time around, so for one week you will have him playing house husband. 

Jungkook shouldn’t be out of bed yet. It was his second day home and he should be getting his well-deserved sleep. You have to get up for university, but Jungkook should still be snoozing. You have to see what could be so important that he is already out of bed.

You open the blinds with a click of the button you have next to your bedside lamp and use the growing light to get out of bed. You stretch your arms above your head, yawning loudly to get the oxygen flowing. Then you make your way to the bathroom for the mandatory post wake up pee. Once relieved and equipped with a glass of fresh water to drink on the way, you make your way to the living area in hopes of locating Jungkook. 

The faint sound of music calls you to the kitchen. Soon the smell of breakfast tickles your nose. So that's where he went off to. He is cooking breakfast. 

You smile once you lay eyes on him. He is turned to you as he is using the kitchen island counter to chop kimchi. He is wrapped in a dark blue kimono robe and a black apron. The long sleeves of the kimono he fixed according to Japanese traditions, making it so that they wouldn’t get in the way as he cooks. 

He is singing to the song on the radio, lifting his eyes as they catch your movements.

His face lights up.

“Good morning”, he says and keeps gazing at you as you make your way to him.

“Good morning”, you increase your steps, needing to be with him, “why are you up already? It’s so early.”

Jungkook checks the time, “I didn’t feel tired anymore. I’ve been up since five thirty.” 

“Why? Bunny, today’s your free day”, you whine, setting the empty glass aside.

“I’m seriously fine. I think jetlag’s still doing it to me. I’m making breakfast.”

“I know, it already smells amazing”, you say and wrap your arms around his waist. 

He puts the knife down and turns in your hold, lifting his arms so you could snuggle into his chest. He closes his arms around you, swaying from side to side as your bodies naturally move to the music. 

He closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your head. 

“You should be in bed snoozing”, you mumble into him.

“I’m okay”, he says in a chuckle, “I feel really rested.”

“Mhm okay fine I believe you”, you give up and squeeze him gently, “my bunny. Shit, I missed you.”

“I missed you too”, he says and squeezes you back, “so much.”

“I missed you more. You know?” 

Jungkook laughs, “that’s impossible because I missed you so much that nobody could ever top it.”

You chuckle, “wow that’s a lot.”

“Mh-hm it’s a lot.”

You lift your head, grinning up at him. He retorts it, scrunching his nose. 

“You’re a stupid noodle.”

“Heh.”

“What are you making?” 

“Steamed salmon in a teriyaki glaze, multigrain rice, kimchi and miso soup.”

“That literally sounds like heaven, holy fuck.” 

“And I’m making jujube tea with ginger because it’s getting chilly.” 

“You’re seriously amazing. I was so down to eat soggy cereal today and now you’re treating me to such a royal breakfast.”

He giggles, “yeah, I hope it’ll taste yummy. I made the glaze myself and, I don’t know, I think I used too much ginger.” 

“I bet it’ll be amazing.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

The air fryer beeps, calling Jungkook’s attention.

“Oh! Food’s ready! Sit down Mommy, I’ll serve it to you”, he says and wiggles out of the hug in excitement. He skips to the air fryer, humming to himself.

You do as you are told and sit down by the round dining table, watching him scramble to get the food plated. You are wiggling your toes in happiness. He is so cute. 

“You look so handsome in your kimono, Bunny”, you tell him.

“Thank you, Mommy”, he says, but otherwise stays rather unresponsive as he is fully concentrated on making the food look pretty. 

“It’s a shame that I gotta leave for classes today ‘cause I just wanna stare at you all day.” 

At that Jungkook lifts his eyes. He glances at you. Flusters. Looks away. Blushes. 

You chuckle fondly, grinning to yourself. Of course your words would fluster him. That was your goal after all.

“And then later if you let me, I’d unwrap you like a little treat.”

Jungkook glances at you again. He is so obviously shy from your words, but he doesn’t let it show at all.

“Food is, uhm, it’s done”, he says.

“You’re just gonna ignore me, mhm?” you tease with a smile.

“I don’t know what to say to that”, he confesses, making you chuckle 

“You’re so fucking cute.”

He serves the food on a bamboo tray, setting it down with a kiss to your cheek and his left hand petting the back of your head.

“Thank you, my love”, you say, leaning into the kiss.

“Mhm, you can start already. I’ll just get mine.” 

And as Jungkook hurries back to the kitchen, you scan your eyes over the food. It looks amazing. The salmon looks crispy in a dark glaze and the multigrain rice has a nice purple colour to it. The miso soup is steaming and the fresh kimchi from Jungkook’s mom is served in a small glass bowl.

“The food looks amazing”, you tell him.

“Yeah, dig in. Dig in”, he dismisses you as he is terribly busy with scooping rice into his bowl.

“I am”, you say and chuckle. He is so cute. 

You pick up the wooden spoon and scoop up the first bite of many. You try to make it equal parts rice and equal parts salmon, topping it off with a piece of kimchi.

Jungkook sits down on the chair next to yours, resting his chin on the back of his hands. He is watching you intently, showing off his teeth in a sweet bunny smile. 

You take the first bite. 

“And?” he instantly asks, leaning closer to you as he is waiting for the praise.

“Mh”, you let out and pull a face of pure culinary ecstasy, giving him two thumbs up as you chew deliciously. 

He giggles, “good?”

“S’amazing”, you mumble and take a bite of the miso soup, “mhhm, mhm hm mh”, you hum, continuously giving him thumbs up.

“Heh thank you”, he whispers and sways happily, “eat a lot, Mommy. I made it with all the love in the world.”

“I can taste it. It’s so yummy”, you say and swallow your bite. You put your hand at the back of his head and pull him into a kiss.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out, twisting the front of your shirt as his legs squeeze together under the table.

You break the kiss with a ruffle of his hair.

“Thank you so much for cooking”, you whisper and smile.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle, his lips curl into a giddy grin.

“My cutie”, you add and break away to continue eating. The food is too delicious not to put your entire attention on it.

Jungkook watches you take a bite and eat it happily, then he finally begins eating as well, doing so with a frown.

“Mhm yes, this is good food”, he comments and nods his head.

“Yeah, it really is”, you agree and for the next few moments, you and him are silent as you concentrate on eating.

The amazing thing about being married is being able to see eating time as what it is. Eating time. In society, eating with other people most often means forcing conversation for the sake of friendliness. Foods get cold from being neglected for talking, bites aren’t properly chewed for the sake of conversation and tastes aren’t properly enjoyed. Being married to your soulmate and comfort means that those forced conversations cease to exist. You already have the greatest bonding time eating and sharing cozy silence.  

By the time the food is almost all gone, the conversation naturally begins to seep into the silence again. You and he were able to enjoy the food and are now finally ready to talk. Oh, it is so nice to be married.

“Will you go to afternoon lectures as well?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, I have to. What she’s talking about right now is really important.”

“I see. Is it still about behavioural studies?” 

“Yeah.”

“Mmh nice. What you told me on the phone always sounded really interesting.”

“Yeah, it is. Mhm Bunny seriously, I can’t get over how everything is though. Like fuck college talk, your food’s amazing.” 

He scrunches his nose, “thank you, my love. I have another surprise for you too.”

“What do you mean? A surprise?”

“Mh-hm. Don’t make me say it yet. You know I suck at keeping surprises a secret”  he says and smiles his cutest bunny smile.

“Okay, but now you gotta tell me. What did you do?”

“No, I’m not telling you”, Jungkook says and gets up to flee to the kitchen. He giggles as he does, looking over his shoulder to check if you were watching him.

“Bunny”, you warn in a chuckle, getting up to chase him, “tell me.”

He is by the sink, loading the dishwasher and shaking his head.

“Tell me”, you say and tickle his sides.

Jungkook squeaks and writhes away, pressing his arms to his sides as best as possible.

“Mommy stop”, he whines between giggles.

“Tell me”, you insist, tickling his waist instead.

Jungkook turns and grabs your lower arm.

“You’re unfair”, he squeaks. 

You laugh, tickling him again just so you can get his reaction. Jungkook squeaks in laughter. He pulls his biggest move by tickling your sides in return.

“Ah!” you twitch away, “hey! Not fair.”

Jungkook snickers, “it’s what you get for being mean.”

You click your tongue, “you’re a little brat.” 

He grins, “and you’re almost running late.” 

You glance at the clock.

“Oh shit. Fuck, I gotta wash up”, you gasp and sprint off, “you stupid noodle you. You distracted me with your cute butt. Also, if I come downstairs and see you changed outta your robe so you could drive me, I’m punishing your ass. You’re staying home today”, you scold him as you run up the stairs, taking two at a time. 

Jungkook laughs. Seconds later, the upstairs bathroom falls closed.

Jungkook abandons the cleaning up for now in order to prepare your backpack for you. He would drive you to campus on other days, but you told him last night that you would take the bus today as you needed to swing by the library either way. Jungkook didn’t really want to argue with you about it so he just agreed to whatever you insisted on. 

But that doesn’t mean that he won’t make sure that you are leaving the house perfectly prepared. He fills your thermos cup with your favourite coffee, puts a water bottle into your backpack after making sure you have all the books and notes backed and he even slipped some little love notes between the pages you will read today. He hopes that you will love them. He is already so giddy at the thought of you discovering them.

You are stomping down the stairs again, putting on your earrings as you do.

“Have you seen my backpack? I'm going crazy. It’s not in my office.”

“It’s here, my love. You always forget it downstairs on Tuesdays because you come home so late”, Jungkook says, carrying it for you as you hurry to the coat closet. 

“Ah yeah. Fuck, did I get my books?”

“Everything you need is in the bag.”

“My notes?”

“Yes, those too.”

You scramble to get your shoes on. Jungkook in the meantime gets your coat so he could help you later.

“Shit, I didn’t get to make coffee.” 

“I did. Don’t worry”, he assures you.

“And water. I need water for later.”

“It’s in the bag.”

“A big-” 

“Yes, a big bottle.”

You halt in your hurried actions for a moment, looking at him in adoring disbelief. He is still holding your backpack and another bag in one hand, whilst offering you your favourite coat with the other. Your eyes flit back to the bag.

“What’s that?” 

“My surprise.” 

“Your surprise?” 

“First. Coat”, he says and helps you slip it on, “then backpack”, he helps you again, “now surprise”, he hands you the bag. 

You look into it. Your thermos of coffee is in there, a metal spoon and a pair of chopsticks wrapped in a paper towel as well, your favourite chocolate bar, a small package of salted pretzels, a tangerine, a banana and a metal bento box.

You look up to meet his shy gaze.

“You made me lunch?” you get out squeakily, pouting as your eyes fill with fond tears.

Jungkook nods his head, “it's something so yummy. I also packed you favourite snacks and some fruits for vitamins. But don’t open the bento until it’s time for lunch.”

“Bunny. Oh my god, you’re gonna make me cry. I love it so much.”

Jungkook wipes your tears away, smooches your forehead and then places his hands on your shoulders to lead you to the elevator. He calls it with a press of the button.

“No tears. You’re running late.”

You laugh, feeling your heart flutter. He is so fucking adorable.

The elevator dings and opens. He shoves you gently until you naturally walk on your own.

“How do you expect me to be normal after this? You’re the sweetest noodle ever”, you whine. 

“Thank me by thinking of me all day”, he says and giggles.

You turn. He is still in the penthouse while you’re in the elevator. One reach is all that separates you and him.

Jungkook lifts his hand to wave you goodbye. Just a few more seconds and the doors would close. It’s now or never. 

The doors begin closing.

“Good luck today, my love. See you late-eeek”, Jungkook squeals and stumbles into the elevator as you pull him inside by the collar of his robe.

You twirl him and press him against the wall, knocking a surprised gasp out of him.

The elevator moves.

“What are you doing? I’m in my robe. I don’t have my keycard with me. I don’t-”

“Take mine. You can open the door for me later”, you interrupt him.

“But. The robe.”

“Nobody will care. Wanna make use of the time”, you dismiss him and pull him into a kiss. 

Jungkook whimpers, grasping you instantly. His heart is racing, his knees are buckling. So here he is. In his robe, without clothes underneath, pinned against a cold wall as he is getting tongue kissed in an elevator. It’s not what he had hoped would happen if he made you lunch, but it’s definitely not the worst outcome.

[sixerstanley]

I feel like Stans sleep schedule should be talked about more. During the 30 years of fixing the portal, he was busy running the shack during the day, and worked on the portal at night, so when did he sleep? Naps during the day? After work for a bit? Early morning for an hour or so before he had to get up for work again? Has he gone days without sleep before? Do you think he has a hard time sleeping some of the time after he finally didn't need to get up and fix the portal anymore? What do you think Fords reaction would be?

NO NO BECAUSE THIS IS SOOOOO TRUE

god it would be so juicy if like. one night ford goes to sleep, and maybe its like. 11pm or so?? and stan is just watching tv or something. they don't say anything to each other, ford is still in his bitchy ass phase so he just gets some work done and goes to sleep.

but then he wakes up at 4am or so and like, idk, maybe he's thirsty and goes up to get some water. but then he hears the tv is still on

he rolls his eyes, thinking about how stan is wasting electricity in his house falling asleep to the tv like that. He grumbles in annoyance and goes to the living room and...

stan is awake.

in the exact same spot he was in before.

i don't think theyd talk about it right away. Ford definitely wouldn't. and he tries to convince himself he's not concerned (he is concerned)

honestly i dont think he'd take that one night at face value though. i think he'd probably, for the next few nights, set an alarm for himself in the middle of the night and check to see if stan's awake

9 times out of 10, he is.

moving forward i think ford would probably ask about it, in his own way. not sure how--probably dickish in however he says it--but i don't think stan actually explains why.

Why would he? Ford would probably say how stupid he was to risk his health in order to save him, or some shit like that. As if he wouldn't do anything for Ford.

As if he wouldn't die for him, if he had to.

and the dancing around the issue just makes ford more aggravated, more angry. they definitely have a fight about it that i don't think is ever resolved until post weird.

OOH WAIT. while stan is still getting his memories back he kinda notices that he...doesn't sleep often? Like, every time he tries, he has this uneasy feeling like he's wasting time? so he asks ford about it...

BETTER YET. what if in that fight it WAS brought up?? stan finally told him it was because he was working on the portal. And ford, whose first reaction tends to be anger when something upsets him, talks down to him.

"Ya wanna know why? You really wanna know why, Poindexter?" Stan asks, taking a swig of his soda and wishing it was something else entirely.

Ford just glares at him icily. "I wouldn't be asking if I--"

"The portal."

Ford blinks at him. "What about the portal?" he mutters, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

"I worked my ass day and night. I ran the shop in the mornin' to pay bills--the bills you never paid, by the way--and at night I was down here, bustin' my ass trying to get that stupid fuckin' machine to work," Stan starts, staring directly at Ford. "I read mountains of textbooks just tryin' to understand one ounce of it if it meant I could get you back."

Irritation bubbles up inside his body as Ford just stares at him, expression indistinguishable. Stan sighs, letting it go. "Dontcha get it? Sleep was a luxury in those days--I couldn't lose any free time i had to shit like that. I needed to get you back--that was the priority." He shrugs. "I guess my body just got used to it."

Ford stares at him for a long moment. Stan forces himself to look away.

Finally, he hears in a low, cold tone:

"I didn't ask you to do that."

Stan doesn't know why he thinks anything is going to change any time soon. He had this grand old idea that maybe, just maybe, Ford would be willing to be brotherly with him one day. That maybe, he could treat him like he actually cared.

That maybe, one day in the distant future, he would smile at him and finally say thank you, Stanley.

He doesn't know why he still bothers trying.

"All of your self-destructive behaviors are your own fault," Ford spits at him. "I didn't ask you to rebuild the portal. I didn't ask you to save me. You didn't have to save me."

And instead of being angry at this point, he's just fucking tired.

"No," Stan says, before glancing back up at Ford, his voice quiet but firm. "No, I didn't."

And he walks out of the room without another word.

SO ANYWAYS. post weird, stan notices he just...doesn't like to sleep?? and he asks ford about it and ford's face just turns white as a ghost.

ill that here for now bc i didn't expect to write anything HAHA those are my thoughts!!

[gingervitus]

Davrin Week Day Five: Woodworking

Oh hello friends.

The end of this week was... not my favorite end to the week, and then I ended up taking a three hour nap today. SO HERE I AM A LITTLE LATE BUT THAT'S OK.

thank you as always to @datvcompanionweeks for hosting these super wonderful events.

Here's some more modern AU.

The Sun (3,728 words)

It has been a quarter after six o’clock for the past two hours.

Silvia picks absently at her nails. The monitor of the computer she’s slumped in front of glows back at her in the dark room. A blank schedule has been haunting her for the past week. Arguably, several blank schedules have been nipping at her heels. Gnawing at her insides. Picking apart her brain when she tries to go to sleep at night. Her fingers drag through her hair, balls of her hands pressing up against her closed eyes. 

Things are easier when she can just count through different routine variations to fall asleep instead of wondering what is going to happen over the coming months.

Life, though, does not seem to hand her any problems that have easy fixes. She’s been holed up so long that her business partner (and future sister-in-law however the fuck that happened) came to check on her before her last class for the evening started. “Are you still having those boy problems, Via?” Hearing this situation referred to in such a way makes her cringe even a half hour later. “Did you break up with your firefighter?” The support is always appreciated. She should really be grateful for such love around her. “Do you want to?”

She does not. 

Mostly, she wants to duck out of work early, drive over to Davrin’s place, and fight with him. Scream until her lungs give out and then fall asleep in his arms. She wants to tell him he’s a stubborn shithead that needs to figure this whole thing out. To let him know that if she’s going to be his emergency contact, he has to accept the help that emergency contact wants to give after said emergency. She wants to hold his stupid squared jaw and tell him she’s not good at any of this, but she’s trying.

Would it be easier to just let this short term relationship fizzle out until it’s just a bittersweet memory lost among the stars? Yes, absolutely. Then she thinks about how he kissed her that very first night when she had been terrified to be seen in the light of day. How gently he held her while the morning light broke into the night sky. How her heart hammered in her chest as he told her the night didn’t have to end and then proceeded to make them pancakes. So perhaps, it wouldn’t be easier after all to simply bury her head in the sand like she has time and time again with previous flings.

“No,” she whispers, much as she did earlier to the question still ruminating in her mind. “I don’t.”

That is the unfortunate complication when a fling quickly starts feeling like something that can last forever if both parties would allow for it. Suddenly, the possibility of floating off on the breeze to whatever comes next vanishes, and she’s stuck miserable, stubborn, and alone in her apartment every night wanting to swallow her own pride to smooth things over. However, she also is impulsive and makes decisions that could throw wrenches in such a thing at any given moment.

Her heart aches. Whether it’s due to this incessant need to be near him again or the uncertainty as to what is going to come next, she isn’t sure.

A soft knock comes from the open door to the office. Without removing her hands from her eyes, she yearns to shoo whoever is there away. She wants to be alone, so she can finally finish three months of scheduling in advance. And also to mope in peace. 

“Bad time?”

The voice does not belong to any of the employees that might be visiting her office. In fact, it’s a voice she hasn’t heard much at all recently. Her hands drop into her lap. When she opens her eyes, Davrin stands in the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. The bruises on his face have healed to return that classically handsome face that had her heart about to shoot out of her chest in the middle of a crowded bar the first time she saw it. “No,” she breathes almost as if she’s unsure he’s really there. Which must look awfully stupid, she decides before straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat. “No, it’s not… a bad time, I mean. It’s not a bad time.”

God, she’s babbling like a fucking fool.

He nods. One of his hands flexes around something in his pocket. A wallet? Car keys? She doesn’t know, and isn’t certain why she’s speculating or even noticing it all. “That’s good.” The faintest hint of a smile touches his lips. “I was hoping we could talk.”

She frowns. “That’s foreboding,” she replies. Nothing bad has ever happened after that statement is made. Never. Not once.

“Maybe if you’re the one who was an ass,” he counters. The smile remains, but she can see the nerves beginning to glimmer in his eyes. He’s anxious. How unusual. As foolish as it is right now, she allows the hope that's been simmering in the back of her mind to come to a rolling boil. “You have five minutes?”

An empty schedule hollers that she doesn’t have five seconds, let alone five minutes. “Yeah,” she answers. A lie but he doesn’t have to know that. Glee and despair rage through her veins as her heart pounds. 

People don't usually come asking for Silvia by name, which is the assumption she makes as to why there had been no warning prior to his arrival. Plus the young woman at the desk is deeply invested in a video she’s attempting to discreetly listen to through an ear bud she thinks is hidden behind her hair. It is not well hidden at all, considering the white device is poking through long strands of brown hair. Not that it matters at this time of night really. On a Tuesday, Silvia wouldn’t even normally still be here.

Yet here she is, prepared to push heavy double doors to head out into the summer heat. An arm reaches over her to open one before she even gets the chance. “And they say chivalry is dead,” she teases, hoping to get that sideways grin she’s been longing to see in response. “First, saving kittens and now opening doors for ladies. What will he do next?”

That grin doesn’t come, though. Something more reserved takes its place. Tight lipped and anxious. “I’m being told that getting a puppy might help my market value,” he tells her, and despite all the conversations she’s planned out in her head, all the cut and dry arguments she’s been looking to have, she laughs. 

It is a damp evening. The humidity has to be up near a hundred percent. Her skin immediately feels sticky as she steps outside. Cars are sparsely parked throughout the lot, and as the sun goes down, she imagines there will be a thin wet sheen left on all of them. Peeling off her sweatshirt would make the most sense, but she didn’t expect to see Davrin when she committed to the leotard under leggings look this morning. There is no way she’ll be seen without a bra right this second. Given how she’s already melting simply under his gaze, she has to make him work for something.

“I miss you.”

So plain and to the point. He says it quietly. Not in the way of avoiding being overheard by a passerby, but rather, he intends it only for her. The statement is tender, intimate even. If the heat didn’t already have her cheeks flushing, they certainly would be now. He still stands with his hands in his pockets. His eyes are fixed on the ground between him. Like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in a cookie jar too many times. It’s uncharacteristic of him. From that very first night, he’s oozed confidence. He is smooth and sure of himself. She loves that about him, so seeing this side is quite the stark contrast.

His chest swells with a deep intake of breath. “I used to break a lot of stuff as a kid,” he explains. “Drove my parents up a wall.” Imagining neat as a pin picture perfect Davrin giving his parents grief and making a mess is comical, but she folds her arms over her chest, watching as he fiddles with the item in his pocket. “Got to the point where my dad was so fed up with my shit that he taught me how to make something new with the things I destroyed.”

From the pocket, a small box is produced, the size and shape of which is familiar to her. Her brother recently slid a very similar vessel across her kitchen counter for her appraisal. To make sure the contents were acceptable. Were worthy of the answer he was looking to receive. Silvia sucks in a sharp breath. While that sort of box only usually holds one sort of thing, it certainly doesn’t really tie into whatever story Davrin is about delve into… right? She bites down on the inside of both cheeks in anticipation.

Eyes shift from the ground to the small wooden box that he’s turning over in his hand. “Snapped a door right off its hinges once,” he scoffs. “Dad had me turn it into a coffee table and didn’t make it easy for me either.” 

The coffee table that sits in front of his couch doesn’t draw much attention to itself. The surface is smooth and the rings in the wood are all mismatched between thin planks of wood. It reminds her of the expensive cutting boards her brother likes to purchase. Thin pieces of wood grouped together in clean even lines. Placed together piece by piece with a little elbow grease. She hadn’t even considered he might have made it himself.

“So I started making little things here and there.” A part of her wonders if he’s made the box he refuses to stop fidgeting with. “Mom got a mug rack. Made my dad one of those bottle opens you keep on the wall. My sister got a whole bookshelf.” Siblings. She hasn’t even thought to ask him about his siblings. All she knows about his parents is that they live a few hours away. Additional immediate family members have been a second thought. She can't help but wonder what else she's been too preoccupied to notice or learn about him.

Between the side of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, he now holds the box, deciding what exactly comes next. Her nostrils flare. Anticipation rolls through her belly. “Kept my hands busy and me out of trouble.” This troublesome boy is still a little tough to picture, but she thinks of that sideways grin and air of confidence and decides maybe he’s not too far removed from the man she knows now. “Maybe that’s why I became such an asshole. I can’t say I’ve done much woodworking as of late… at least not before this.” He holds the box out for her. “Here.”

She hasn’t said a single word since they came outside. The hairs at the back of her neck are curling with sweat in the heat. “For me?” the words leave her mouth quietly, barely even a question she means to consciously ask. This time when she meets his eyes, they’re staring right back at her. That fire he usually brings with him. That warmth she’s so drawn to. Something passionate and beautiful and unerring and so innately him whatever arguments she’s had well planned out in her head are gone. “You were really an ass.”

“I know,” he chuckles, though it's laced with a bitterness she isn’t used to. Someone or maybe more than one person has told him as much. Has affirmed what she felt wasn’t an overreaction. Has been on her side. Which thrills her much like finding a twenty dollar bill in a pair of clean jeans: exciting but certainly not expected. “If you don’t want it and would rather send me on my way, I get it.”

Shaking her head, she looks back down at the box in her hand. “I didn’t say that.” She would be hard pressed to kick him to the curb at the very least. It would reflect poorly on her to turn away the at risk youth he describes himself as. That’s reason enough to let him stay… on top of the fact she’s missed his voice more than she even realized. “I said you were an ass. Not that you should leave, or that I didn’t want a gift.”

He laughs a bit more genuinely this time around. Deep and hardy in his chest. She knows how the bass is rumbling in his chest, and she has half a mind to drag him back into her office and lock the door because of that. “I’ll take it.” He’s the perfect specimen. All tall and broad and carved from the most remarkable stone she’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing. 

Or maybe it’s never been stone at all. He isn’t cold like a stone. Sunlight practically radiates out of him. He’s the center of whatever room he’s in, and somehow she’s happy to stand in that light. To bask in its warmth. Perhaps he is never the marble man she pictures crafted in his likeness but rather a man built from the softest and most beautiful wood in the forest he loves so much. Crafted with such care that he shouldn’t dare enter her orbit, yet he remains. In that radiance, she would be more than happy to be the cat curled up in its warmth for days on end… forever if would allow it.

Fuck.

She clutches the box in her hand. “Davrin, I was invited to be a guest instructor at the company I used to dance for.” It seems like a different life. Drifting on an enticing emptiness through every performance. Counting. Hitting. Succeeding. Day in and day out in costume fittings. Breaking in new pointe shoes. Listening to the ever present whispers of more seasoned dancers. Dark and cruel words toward one another. Toward others. Toward her. Toward the universe. Smoking cigarettes after hard rehearsals late into the night. The empty feeling following her into bed each and every night. Thrilling and wondrous and mother approved. 

Confused, he shrugs. “That’s awesome… right?” There’s something stuck in his throat. Like there’s more he might want to say in response. Like he wants to question the topic’s introduction here. Much like his siblings, he doesn’t know much about what happened or even when she had been in the years prior to returning here. “I don’t know if you’re excited about this or not?”

The biggest draw to her studio in her home city is that she teaches classes there. She’s acquired her own following of serious ballet students. Serious enough to pay large sums of money and attend multiple classes a week in between homeschool lessons. But she wants to provide some safe space. A soft place to land and not have to listen to those intrusive whispers for as long as she can help. “I accepted,” she whispered. The box is burning in her hands.

“Okay,” he responds. She can smell his laundry detergent. Light and clean. Nothing overly fragrant because it gives him a headache. She doesn’t know when he got so close, but just a few more inches and they’ll be chest to chest. Either one of them could be the culprit moving in on the other. She doesn’t really care which one of them it is honestly. “There’s a catch?” She can hear his frown.

“I leave in two and a half weeks.”

“There it is.” She can’t bring herself to look at him. Not with the unaired anger and sadness in her eyes. He’ll immediately see it and insist on saying something nice, which will send her right over the edge. There’s already an email in her drafts rescinding her acceptance of the position. Offering to provide covering funds for whatever lodgings they have already secured for her. Choosing to stay and maintain her every day. The stable life with limited risk involved she’s built for herself. Maybe break up with a volunteer firefighter via text message who was a bit of a dick while hurt or make up with him and live happily ever after like some fairy in the woods she’s been a principal dancer in a show about. “How far away?”

Far enough that he mother didn’t have to worry about her. “About an ocean’s length,” is all she offers as a response. 

His brows shoot up, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “Damn.” There’s some nervous bouncing on the balls of his feet. An occasional nod as he processes the information. “That’s… not close.”

This wouldn’t be her first time breaking up in a parking lot, but somehow the sting of it is so much worse than any sobbing heartbreak she’s had with some shitty half baked boy trying to undersell her worth. She hasn’t even shed a tear yet, though the lump sitting firmly in her throat is begging to change that. The past weeks avoiding him and his shitty attitude have been wasted. If this is it, she would have had the fight right then and there while he was all battered and bruised. She would have taken a little more time together to enjoy the good thing before it fizzled into a grand nothingness like a falling star in the sky.

Hands land on her face with an impossibly gentle touch. “Hey.” She looks up and can feel the hot tears roll out of her eyes and over his thumbs. “Do you not want to go or–”

“No, I do!” she barks out, louder than she intends. “I do.” What a sap she is bawling in the palms of his hands. It’s only been a few months. It could have been more. She has no reason to be this broken over something that started as a blind fucking date. But it’s good. It’s so good. “I just don’t want this to end.”

His brows knit together. “End?” he repeats. “Are you ending this?”

“No… I… don’t think so?” She figures an ocean between a short term thing is enough of an axe to chop the head off of the relationship entirely. “I don’t want to… but three months is a long time.”

His hands leave her longing to be held in the stifling heat. “Open the box,” he says. Even. Commanding. The corners of his lips are curled up ever so slightly. She stares at him, crying in the parking lot of her own fucking establishment. Feeling like a fool in love. “Open it.”

She doesn’t know why she obeys so easily. There has been no apology. Just the fleeting chance that whatever this thing between them is might end. The teeth of the box yield to her touch easily and pop open to reveal the very thing she imagines could be in such a box, though it is quite different than what she might imagine. It’s still a ring but made of wood that appears to be such a dark brown she can barely make out the pattern in the grain. A thin broken line of green stones runs along the length of it. The varnish shines in the dying light of day. “I know you were trying to help,” he adds. She turns the ring over and over between her fingers. “And I didn’t appreciate that as much as I should have.”

Seeing him in that hospital had been difficult. Not only was it the middle of the night, but she was panicking now. Unable to get much of anywhere with the woman at reception. Her brother was no help. Then Davrin showed up with a forehead bandaged. All but hobbling over to her. Smelling like smoke and the goddamn hospital. There was nothing else she wanted in that moment than for him to be okay. She barely slept at all that night, counting his breaths and movements as best she could until the sun rose again. 

“I’m sorry, Silvia.”

It’s a token of apology. A piece that says he doesn’t know if his words will make up for everything, but he’s a beautiful creation I’ve made with you in mind regardless. It’s smooth and small in her hand. Something that has been so reserved and held in his past it’s been relegated to family now includes her. A tiny sob leaves her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she blathers, raising a hand. “Not about… all of that. You deserved the cold shoulder.” He laughs at this despite her meaning every word, and she doesn’t doubt that he hears her loud and clear as well. “I… no one’s ever… made me anything before.”

Not since grade school. Something like a picture or a valentine. A little fleeting craft to be shared between childhood friends. Nothing of note has had the effort put in like this. Each stone sits floating in the resin that’s been sanded and smoothed to a slick shine. Care has been put into each level of this tiny piece of an apology so much so that it has every wall she’s ever built crumbling at his feet.

The pads of his thumbs brush away stray tears once again. Her eyes meet his. Cool and sharp meeting warm and open. “I’m in this, Silvie,” he states firmly. An open declaration of words they haven’t mentioned in quite some time. “If you’re in this, too, that’s enough for me.”

Between his gaze and the lump in her throat, she’s overwhelmed by every emotion she’s tried to plow through since she’s met him. Serendipity is not meant for her life. The de Riva’s are plagued by tragedy and poor decisions. There has been no generational skip. There are no exceptions. They are destined for misfortune.

Yet the human embodiment of the sun wants to love her.

She should be called a fool for allowing this into her life, but even a fool is entitled to joy once in a while.

“I’m in this,” she agrees with a nod before settling happily against his lips.

[ray935sworld]

New priorities (Pedrenzo)

"I'm probably not going to do a wildcard this year" Dani whispered.

Jorge almost laughed out loud when he heard that but he only but his lip, trying to surpress his grin. Dani really a habit of saying important things in the most impossible situations.

He had told Jorge that he would retire in 2018 in between post race kisses, shortly before he ran back to his team, leaving the younger man in a shocked silence, just staring at him.

And now he was telling him he wouldn't do a wildcard this year - probably never again - while he was trying to get their little daughter to sleep.

The baby, barely a few months old, was peacefully laying in his arms, just moving slightly, as if she wanted to get more comfortable. She was unaware to the things her fathers were talking about and what they meant.

"Mmmh... I figured. So next year?" "No... No probably not" he answered. His eyes went from Jorge to their child and back to Jorge. He was humming a song under his breath.

The younger man smiled softly. He loved the picture infront of him. He wanted to safe the view in his mind and never let it go again.

He had the man he loved ever since they were stupid teenagers as his husband. They had a child. There was nothing that could make him happier.

"You know what that means, right?" he asked nonetheless. He was sure Dani had though this through. It was Dani after all. He always thought thinks through.

"What do you mean?" "Your professional, active racing career would end and-" "My professional, active racing career ended in 2018" "And how often did you drive a motogp bike since then?" he countered.

Dani had done a few wildcards since his retirement and even more tests. But even the test had rapidly decreased over the last years.

Jorge remembered seeing Dani almost jumping with his excitement on the days he had on track testing with ktm scheduled. He had been smiling about it days in advance. And he'd often come home grinning when he got to do some riding at the factory.

The majorcan knew how much riding those bikes still meant to him and knowing that Dani might had participated in a race for the last time, without knowing it would be his ultimate last race, broke his heart for him.

He might wasn't racing but he hadn't not been motogp rider either.

Dani chuckled. He gave Jorge a look, clearly trying to get out of this without changing his position. "I ehm... I've been retired for years" he tried to argue, a blush obvious on his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, retired with comebacks."

"Where are you going with this?" "I'm just saying... No wildcards this year... If next year neither - Jerez last year might have been your last real time on a motogp bike... You know what I mean"

He didn't mean to be rude. He didn't mean to push him. It was the last thing he wanted. But he himself hadn't been on a motogp bike in years, simply because he didn't want to. He had refused. But Dani hadn't. And now suddenly it might be over.

He just wanted to make sure Dani didn't regret it. He didn't want to see his husband wishing for 'one last time', 'one last race' with nothing to do about.

"I just want you to be sure."

Dani nodded, understanding his thoughts. His response was to put his hand on their daughter's cheek. Softly he caressed the skin, his eyes fixed on her.

"I can't go racing anymore. Not when I need to keep my bones together as best as possible. I... Jorge, I love you so much and I love her so much. Racing is - It seems so pointless now."

Everything seemed to be pointless when you had a 6 months old child clinging to your hand, your finger, your hair, anything they cpukd grip to get your attention just to stare at you before giggling.

"What if I crash? What if something happens?" Dani asked feeling a cold going down his spine. The thought that could have happened during his racing years that might had taken away this reality, made him shiver.

"It won't. You-" "We spend 30 years on bikes. 30 years and we were both lucky." Both had their fair share of injuries. Some more intense. Some more hurtful. Some with longer hospital stays. But at the end of the day they could still move and life normally.

"I can't run out of luck now and I am not gonna risk it. I can't have you lose me and I can't have her lose me. I refuse to leave you."

"I know" Jorge said as he made his way towards Dani. He pulled him closer. He had him in his arms, their child by now sleeping calmly in Dani's arms. He softly kissed him, feeling his lips on his own. He felt the love Dani was trying to give him and gave it back as much as possible.

"You're not gonna to lose us. Hey... This is our happy end. The one we always wanted. I promise you, no one and noting is gonna take this away from us"

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT is back!!! Here’s my live reaction to everything that happened this week! Obviously take everything I say with massive piles of salt, these are in the moment reactions and aren’t supposed to be fully coherent thoughts.

DRDT CH2 EP12 SPOILERS (Oh that feels good to write)

We’re back!!! Teruko we fucked up!!!

The theory that Charles was going to bring up the possibility of a wrong time of death was true! There weren’t really any other theories about what he was going to say from what I saw, but it’s still cool we got that right. You have no idea how giddy I am to finally hear him talk about it, after waiting so long for him to finish the sentence lol.

Also Teruko’s face lmao.

Oh, poor Teruko, she looks so sad. She’s gonna bring up the marks on the wrist, right?

Or, yeah, the swinging.

(Does this screw up any theories? No, her body was still likely strung up at 7:30 AM, which is what most people thought I’m pretty sure)

Ah, Whit. I missed how shady he always is even when he has, like, an airtight alibi for the time the fish were taken (which is still around 7:30 PM to nightime btw, don’t forget Nico’s account).

They’re not gonna bring up the time the fish were taken, are they? That furthers my belief that the person who took the fish and the murderer are different. Nothing concrete obviously, just kinda narratively works better that way.

“Or did you do it on purpose?” Veronika how I’ve missed you :D

David’s face lmao xD

“I’ll fix that mistake” (Paraphrased) Hell yeah! Go Teruko! :D

I missed you too, Literature Boy Insane. That “pathetic” voice line was cool. Also, thank you Hu.

J: “The body would have been cold if it was drenched at some point.” (Paraphrased). Interesting point about the water, I wonder if it’s important or not. We know she wasn’t drowned because the relax room wasn’t open at 7:30 AM, right? So I don’t know how she could have gotten drenched.

Ace no genuinely how do you not know how water works what.

“The range of human stupidity is larger than I thought.” Charles, you’re great.

[Levi and Nico complain about Arturo’s medicine skills] Okay, but like, Arturo has repeatedly told you he’s not that kind of doctor. Like you can blame the guy for a lot of shit but this one ain’t it chief.

(Also don’t think I don’t see how Levi throws suspicion on Arturo. Small point towards Levi!Culprit and Levi!Accomplice)

“You shut your whore mouth!” Okay maybe I don’t need to defend Arturo actually, he seems like he has it handled. You good my guy?

Oh shit we actually brought up that Arturo is ridiculously young for someone in the medical field. I did not have that in my (hypothetical) bingo card.

Twelve?! Dude my guy wanted out of that house yesterday damn.

Dude he’s kinda going off! I was not expecting Arturo fans of all people to eat this good this episode, but this is interesting!

Oh right the crazy lady- “Adorable”? Verturo shippers eating!

“Feel free to add to the number of dents in the computer lab” (Paraphrased) PFFFT Charles!

Wait wasn’t there actually a dent there? Wasn’t that a thing I saw on people’s theories? Holy shit is that actually going to get addressed?

[Whit explains] AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY-!

“I let it slide because it was funny” I missed MonoTV too actually.

And no fish! Nico’s account of the fish still being there last time they checked goes unmentioned, meaning it’s likely going to be used for a twist later!

New alibis? Could be possible.

Whit: “I don’t have an alibi. Neither does Charles” (Paraphrased) Which you know because…?

Oh so that’s not addressed. I repeat the statement of Whit being unnecessarily shady all the time.

????? DAVID AND J ALIBI???? This could be kinda huge actually.

David: “Oh. Shit.” This is the reaction of a man being cleared of murder. That’s so funny.

Didn’t David usually wake up late? Inconsistent sleep schedule ig.

J: “Oh yeah, and Veronika.” Girl you gotta say this shit earlier.

Yeah, look, J, you went and made Veronika sad! >:( /j

David: “Whoops” Holy shit every line this man says is gold actually what?

David? Lying? Noooo, how could you say that? I forgot how funny post magical girl transformation this man was.

David I am going to need you to give an actual answer. I spent hours looking at That Video and I still don’t know what your deal is please-

“And she’s Teruko” J’s also really funny actually. Hold a knife to someone’s throat once and they hate you forever, smh.

“Oh and don’t say something like “I wanna kill myself” that’s boring” (paraphrased). Holy shit I missed Veronika- that’s my second fave right there! (Min you will always be N1 don’t worry).

David-Veronika duo is great actually.

By the way David said “the truth is…” I am not expecting a serious answer.

You know, for a moment I actually did think he genuinely thought he was the blackened. But my first instinct was right.

“I would have actually tried looking at the crime scene” Bro what the fuck is he actually cooking.

“A good person” drop!!!! If you know, you know!

Also, I wanted to point this out here, I might have accidentally misinformed a part of the fandom a bit? One point that I brought up was that several important people to this chapter have been called “a good person”, and one of the examples I gave was Hu calling David a good person. Which… I don’t think happened? I evidently misremembered a line where Hu called David a “good friend”, which is a different phrase with different connotations in DRDT, and I genuinely apologize for that. Especially because I have seen people repeating that David had been called a good person in the past.

But now David has called himself “a good person”, if in a roundabout way, so the point actually stands lol.

Oh shit the Xander name drop.

… He was trying to kill Teruko wasn’t he. Because Xander tried it, and because David has Teruko’s “the killing game is all your fault” motive. Oh shit.

Speaking of the “good person” point, that argument might actually be dead lmao. Given that Xander got called that and he’s, well. Not particularly important to chapter 2, let’s say.

[Hindsight Post-Video: Actually, the argument could now be “anyone referred to as a good person is deeply important up to chapter 2”. Or, alternatively, argue that Xander is somewhat important to the Chapter 2 trial because he inadvertently caused David to magical girl transform. The “good person” list in case you don’t recall is Teruko, Levi, Eden, Arei, and as of this episode, David and Xander. We’ll see what we make of it once the chapter ends ig]

Oh Teruko is pissed I am loving this.

Holy shit the voice acting is amazing holy shit Teruko is going off she said Xander didn’t treat David like a human (“No Longer Human” reference??? I might just be insane though) oh this is incredible!!!

Oh he knows something deep. This motherfucker knows what was written in Xander’s “kill Teruko” note I bet.

WAIT HE KNEW XANDER BEFORE HOPE’S PEAK?! HE KNOWS WHY HE’S THE ULTIMATE REBEL?!

Motherfucker you are going to tell us what Xander did before Hope’s Peak and why you know his work or I swear to God-!

Okay actually, David, I am going to need you to give… a straight answer at some point? Like I get you’re canonically bisexual (and it’s showing) but a single straight answer isn’t going to kill you.

Also, the music?! Is peak?!

David: “If the answer is no…” Neat sprite! Just thought it looked nice, and the line’s cool too :>

The return of the Teruko Baffled Sprite, long awaited.

Secret reveal? The killing game’s her fault?

Okay not the angle I was expecting in the slightest. Obviously gonna have to analyze how truthful he’s being at the moment, but he’s basically pulling a DRV3 ending logic thing. Cool!

So… Xander is absolutely Opening Guy, right? Like, I know that was the most common theory, but c’mon.

YEAH HU GO OFF!!!!

Voice acting going crazy too!

I adored Hu’s screaming section. How long till it’s revealed she has the “hopeless child” secret?

Hu’s a queen, hell yeah.

Pffft J’s high horse voice line-

Thank you Charles for being the only competent one (affectionate). Btw what does Veronika think of David’s reasoning? I was kinda hoping we’d see that.

[Red herring joke] Whit. Whit /disappointed/silly

Oh shit I was not expecting that line to actually cause a reaction damn.

You know, I’ll be honest and admit Eden’s really not acting that much like a culprit. I still think she is, I’m just surprised I’m not able to confirmation bias my way into suspecting her through her voice lines :v

Aaaand we’re back to Ace v Nico! Woo!

Okay wow the new alibis are like, laser focused on going against the most popular theories, huh? I’m not going to say anything’s deconfirmed yet obviously, but Hu!Culprit, J!Culprit, even Veronika!Culprit and theories surrounding David being involved have some questions to answer damn.

[To the question of if anyone else had alibis] “Nope” Whit how do you know this.

Levi!Accomplice also takes a hit because Eden and Levi aren’t trying to alibi for each other, but it can be explained. If they never prepared to give each other alibis, it’s safer to just… not, since they can’t actually say what they were doing during that time. And yes, possible explanations like this is why I’m not calling anything outright deconfirmed yet.

I wrote that before Levi three dotted directly after Eden, looking like he was thinking of trying to give her an alibi. Now that’s confirmation bias that can’t be safely used for theories!

Oh right J still hates Arturo xD

[The whole thing about excluding suspects who had an alibi at night and not in the morning] Oh God, Levi really wants me to think he’s the culprit huh? The method’s still too crazy for me to really believe that, but still.

This is also bad for Levi!Accomplice. Not a dealbreaker, but still weird that he’d say something that could point in Eden’s direction. I am not even going to try to defend that yet.

Cool. Can we finally talk murder method?

Levi: “That’s my secret.”

Oh okay, we’re not talking method yet.

…

Wait, WHAT?!?!?!!?!!!?!

THAT’S-! That’s not-! What the hell?!

Okay, so. Cool, Levi’s the remorseless murderer, we got that one right. But, the reveal is so insanely out of left field holy shit…

I am not lying when I tell you I had to get up and start PACING like I was not ready for this. I am vibrating. He just- He just said that shit! What the hell?!

I have genuinely no idea how the hell this is gonna play out. Holy shit I cannot wait for the next episode. It’s just… so peak!!! We are so back!!!

—-

General Closing Thoughts: This episode was awesome! I was lowkey a little worried that the first episode back wasn’t going to be as insane as it ended up being, but wow it blew me away. And it was only twenty minutes? When the episodes go up to possibly an hour??? It’s just… holy shit.

It was awesome to finally start getting some insight into why David Did That, and I’m genuinely super excited to see where this goes. I’m still trying to figure out the exact angle on things like hiding Teruko’s secret, if he even is doing that because I now believe there is a non-zero chance he isn’t actually lying. Like, it’s low, but not zero. I do find it strange Veronika didn’t react to it, though, but at least we got that one line before David started talking.

But that’s only the cusp of the iceberg. I genuinely adore the details we got on Arturo’s backstory, and Hu’s blowup, and Teruko’s remorse- it’s all so awesome.

(The fucking dent in the wall of the goddamn computer room got an explanation I still cannot believe that. Wow)

Props to the voice acting and the music btw, absolutely incredible all throughout.

Btw, correct me if I’m wrong, but there weren’t any “minigames” this episode, right? Nothing wrong with that, just found it interesting.

Theory-Related Initial Thoughts: This episode is… possibly one of the biggest theory slaughters I’ve ever seen?

Like, obviously, again, it’s still too early in the trial to fully rule out anything, so I’m going to leave it to the other DRDT scholars to revise their own theories to fit the new evidence, but wow those new alibis are something. Between Hu, J and David having alibis for 7:30 AM, that’s three of the top suspects who weren’t there at that exact time to either kill Arei or mess with the body. Again, maybe there’s explanations for it, I’m not calling anything unconfirmed yet, just that many theories were inconvenienced.

As for my theory, Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice… ups and downs. The more Eden speaks, the less I’m convinced she’s the actual culprit, even if I’m a decent 80% sure she took the tape; the more Levi speaks, the less I’m convinced he’s an accomplice. I’m not going to deny that their dialogue isn’t 100% what I would expect. I don’t think it’s disqualifying, I still believe it to be the theory with the best evidence, it’s just that some things strike me as odd.

That was what I thought… until the end. Because I have no idea what’s about to happen with Levi revealing the secret like this, but… there is a very possible Levi!Accomplice turn here? Like, it’s the “Levi’s holding the glove” idea; the moment Eden loses her alibi, Levi does something that immediately puts a target on his back, potentially trying to get himself voted off before people catch on to Eden as a possible culprit. First he tries to argue that he shouldn’t be a suspect because of the alibi thing, which could make him more suspicious in some people’s eyes (maybe that’s too much 4D chess but it could work), then revealing the secret. I don’t know how likely this is, but it’s a genuine possibility.

Otherwise, I’m… not entirely sure what the angle is? I need to rewatch the trial to figure out why Levi’s talking about “detailing the trial” then immediately revealing his secret. I didn’t rewatch any DRDT before the episode, hence the confusion. But… at this moment, I don’t know what Levi’s cooking, other than possibly accomplice behavior. And even that feels more confirmation bias-y than anything.

There’s also the really weird line where Whit just… knows, Charles had no alibi at 7:30 AM? Unless they discussed it or I’m forgetting something, I don’t actually remember how he’d know that? Was he stalking Charles? Was he just wandering the halls? What kinda-?

(I don’t think that’s likely, but I don’t have a really good read on what’s happening there)

Other than that, here’s a crackpot one to lighten the mood. Mastermind business. I’ve never brought this up before, but I’ve always believed that were Veronika to be the mastermind, she would get revealed early. As in, possibly at the end of this trial, given Teruko had some idea to end the killing game after her chat with Veronika in the movie room.

I’m bringing this up only because Veronika didn’t react to David’s explanation of what he was trying to do by claiming to be the blackened. She was set up for a reaction with the whole “please tell me it’s not boring” thing, and then she… didn’t. It’s possible, in a conspiratorial sense, that she didn’t react because David hit the nail in the head, and Veronika was genuinely upset at the idea. If that’s the case, her reaction could be postponed to the end of the trial, maybe the end of Trial 3, for the early mm reveal there. It’s a very half-baked idea I’m failing to communicate properly ‘cuz I’m eepy, but it’s there.

I rank it in the same level of mastermind evidence as “Nico is unafraid of grabbing MonoTV by the tail.” Immensely silly and should not be considered solid evidence by any means, and yet it’s still probably gonna get mentioned if I ever make a mm probability ranking lol.

Anyways, absolutely incredible episode all throughout. Holy shit were so back, this was amazing. See you next week for more peeks into peak!

[celesteablack]

i really need to fix my sleeping schedule but then i won't have that extra time to do the same stupid shit

[st4rd0lly]

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒 & 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇

• • • —— ♡ —— • • •

CHAPTER ONE :

ANONYMOUSLY. . .

chapter content includes the following : inaccurate and dramatized portrayal of investigative work

“What the fuck am I reading?”

Your body jolts back instinctively, eyes wide as you stared at the window. God forbid you push aside the curtains and open the blinds to let some light through. You were smack dabbed with a creepy note staring right at you in the face like some kind of bad horror thriller movie.

‘What the hell?’

You squint at the stupid note, pasted onto one of the windows of your apartment. It was around 9am in the morning— later than you usually get up but today was supposed to be a relaxed day. It was too early and definitely too cold for any sort of crazy situation to be going on. Crossing your arms over your chest, you kept a good distance from the window to inspect. You rubbed your eyes a couple of times, trying reading the note without the sleepiness threatening to shut your lids.

“No more running?” You read the phrase out loud as more of a question than a statement.

No fingerprints left, so this person had to be wearing some sort of glove. The penmanship looked light but frantic, and judging from the way it splotched in certain areas, you were certain it was written with a quill. The paper itself seemed mostly intact if you ignored the rips around the edges.

“I’m not running. I hate running, if I wanted to run then I’d be on the track.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing your phone. “Which I probably should’ve, look I got a crazy note on my window from God knows where and who.” You dialed a number on your phone, keeping your eyes on the note, worried it might somehow disappear or that maybe you’ll see a suspiciously new person.

With paranoia slowly creeping in, you bite your innercheek— you overthink. Even as the phone rings, waiting for the other person to answer. No more running.. no more running. How cliche could this be?

-

“I’m sorry but there’s nothing we can really do.” The officer told you, your eye involuntarily twitching. “Look, the cameras got nothing. It seemed to have glitched out. They left no evidence other than a note that leads us nowhere. We can’t do anything.”

“Yes, yes I know. I’m sorry for making you come out here. Nothing you can do, I just thought I should report it anyways in case anything else pops up.” You gave an faux apologetic smile. “Better to report earlier than when it’s too late right?”

Well that was a waste.

“I’m really sorry, I wish there was more that I could do but you know unless the letter threatens you or someone, we don’t have much to work with.”

“Thank you for your time.” You bid the officers goodbye, groaning after they left. That put you in a worse mood. You knew they wouldn’t be able to do anything, but it’s not bad to have it on a report, even if it is brief.

-

“So could you tell me how yesterday night went for you?” Mikhail showed up at your doorstep, seeming unimpressed with your predicament. You scoff and lightly shove his shoulder, he breaks out into a small grin. “Sorry, sorry. Been a while since you’ve been in the field, thought you needed a reminder of interrogation questions.”

“Don’t forget who did most of the interrogating Misha.” You raise a brow at him.

Mikhail, or Misha, had been your work partner ever since you both were starry-eyed newbie profilers in the Organzied Crime Unit. Two peas in a reluctant pod at first. Though you two worked in a bigger team, you both in particular had been through quite a lot together. From training to bonding over near death experiences. A lot has changed, the both of you have.

“Okay yeah, whatever. I did my part and you did yours.” Misha shrugs, letting himself into your apartment. Rolling your eyes, you followed him after shutting the door. “No but seriously, did you feel like anything was off last night? Any weird noises? I mean, were you even up? Have you been fixing your sleep schedule?”

“Not even the officers asked me this many questions. But I have been fixing my sleep schedule. Arguably at a bad time I guess.” You sighed, sitting on the table away from the window.

Click!

Misha takes multiple pictures of the note on his camera from the inside of the house like he already did on the outside, helping you collect evidence.

“I didn’t notice anything weird. Everything seemed normal. I was out for most of yesterday because I was doing lectures at the Academy. I got home at around 7pm, made myself dinner and went to bed by 9pm. I didn’t see anyone strange or new around, nor a car.” You tell him, recalling events.

Misha quirks his lips to the side, trying to think of what could happen. “Well something must’ve happened. Or someone.”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“How many enemies have you made?” Misha glances at you.

You purse your lips into a thin line, unsure of how to answer that. “Okay none that would do… whatever this is. Majority of the people that I’m “enemies” with respect me and are not willing to do the whole anonymous note shtick.” You clarify. “And enemies is such a dramatic term.”

“I think an anonymous note is more dramatic though.” Misha stared at the note on the window, seeming lost in thought. It isn’t until now that you’ve realized how long you’ve known Misha and how much he’s grown with you.

From a bratty ass kid who was obnoxious to a grown (but still obnoxious) man with circles under his eyes and a stubble on his face. “Hey? You okay? Did you hear anything I just said?”

“You’re starting to grow gray hairs.” You point out to him, making him huff at you.

“I’m taking that as a no.” He replies, unamused. “I’m asking if you remember that one nutcase case we had.”

“The terrorist group?”

“Yeah, that one. You remember the guy that disappeared right?”

You visibly recoil recalling that time. You had many regrets in your career and in your life. Nikolai Gogol was one of them.

[glitter-stained]

Character design ideas for Tim, you know the drill

-black fingerless gloves. His hands may be cold but by god is he gonna show that black nail polish

-on that note: black nail polish. Tbf I'd give like half of the batfam black nail polish, and Tim is one of them for sure.

-sleep apnea. Idc that making that fit with canon is impractical, I saw that image of Tim falling asleep on a rollercoaster on a date and my brain decided he has sleep apnea.

-active noise-reduction earphones so he can hear himself think.

-I already ranted about this but that man doesn't drink coffee: he drinks energy drinks and these yfood bottled meals that got a meal's worth of nutrients in them, and he takes vitamin pills and protein supplements when necessary. My man knows the importance of a balance alimentation, but he's on a schedule.

-intense fixed blank stare. Oh, he's looking you in the eyes alright; and then he's not looking away.

-sensory issues around food; another reason why my Tim likes liquid food is that he doesn't have to handle and process all the different and weird textures. This isn't developed enough or associated with an emotional state of mind enough to classify as ARFID, but it's still important. (I describe it a little in The Protector).

-he has an elbow scar from a really stupid skateboard accident where he fell and then the skateboard fell on top of him snapped in half. He lies and blames the injury on Ra's.

- We know that Tim plays off-brand dnd, but what are his favourite builds? Easy: he's tried to recreate his perception of all of his teammates and family members as dnd characters, even the ones he doesn't like, and circles through them depended on his state of mind. (one day I might make a "batfam dnd build but according to tim drake" post idk). One time, his Nightwing insert dropped to 0 (didn't even perma die and got healed immediately) and he screamed like someone was getting murdered irl. Sometimes when he's in a particularly petty mood and upset at someone he'll get into a game playing that person's character and try his best to perma-die. One time he was so pissed at Jason he joined the party as Jaybin, got himself killed (by jumping into the dragon's mouth to stab it from inside), pulled out a backup character that was Red Hood and got himself killed again. He has a mini for each and everyone of his close ones' vigilante personas, which he has hand-painted himself.

-his right eyebrow tilts upwards when he is stressed.

-Sometimes my Tim is half-vietnamese (from Janet's side). That's because one of my favourite Tim fanartist draws him as vietnamese and their art and headcanons have imprinted in my brain.) so, no reasoning here, just a big shout-out to @axiliern for being cool af

-somehow he always has a human bone available when you need it. This is unrelated to any question about the no-kill-rule, he will not explain whose bones they are or where they came from but you need a femur? If he's at the nest or any of his safehouses, he'll just hand it over to you no question asked. He's the embodiment of that meme.

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Chapter 7.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

I sat at the counter with my notebook and pen, scribbling down ideas for new recipes or drinks. My mind frequently wandered to johnnie, and it worried me. I couldn't get what Jake asked me out of my brain. did I like johnnie? I couldn't tell if what I was feeling was just having a really good friend or something more. I cringed at myself. I doodled on the side of my page, drawing hearts and stars until someone walked in.

"Hello, miss." the man said with a heavy southern accent. I suppressed a laugh, thinking about Jake.

"Hi, what can i get for you?"

"Let me get the peanut butter mocha, please. That'll be all." he sighed. I nodded in response. "You got a boyfriend?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. I'm sure he didn't mean it the way it sounded. I immediately thought about johnnie. "No, sir."

"Well, don't worry. once you find someone, you'll know." he had a crooked tooth grin.

"Oh, thank you." I smiled. it confused me where this came from. "Why do you say?"

"You learn to read how people feel when you have a bipolar wife." he snorted.

"Well, you were spot on."

a woman walked in behind him on her phone. she looked up and smiled at me. she was beautiful, even if she had a messy bun and no makeup. she seemed sweet.

"Listen, you seem like a nice girl. you've got looks on your side, too. I say go for it. I know I don't know your situation, but when you look back, you'll regret it."

I was getting a little more concerned each second. this was almost creepy. how could he be so right? I passed his coffee over the counter. "Thank you." I said genuinely.

he nodded, not saying a word as he walked out of the cafe.

"What was that about?" the girl asked, walking up to the counter.

"Apparently, he could sense how I was feeling. I've been overthinking about this guy I met, and he was spot on." I shrugged.

"so, when's he going to tell my fortune?" she joked, pulling out her wallet. "tell me about this guy."

"well, I met him a few days ago. I think he's really cute and we've had our... moments, I guess. i think I might be gaslighting myself into thinking I don't like him like that. I've never had a boyfriend, let alone a genuine crush." I rambled. "I genuinely do not know why I'm opening up to strangers."

"I mean, who knows if we'll ever cross paths again."

"still, I feel stupid." I shake my head. "anyway, what can I get for you?"

"can I just get an iced caramel coffee?" she asked with a sweet smile on her face.

I hum, turning around to make it. What a weird night, I'll probably end up rephrasing to tell johnnie later. we talked little after she asked.

"I hope you have a good night." I smiled softly as I handed her coffee over the counter.

"you too." she smiled back before walking out.

I sat back down and continued to try and write, but my mind frequently wandered back to johnnie. was he even coming tonight?

about an hour and a half later, the door bell rang. "Hey, y/n." Johnnie's tired voice called. I looked up, he carried his computer under one arm.

"johnnie, how bad is your sleep schedule?" I teased, "this is the 3rd night in a row you've come to see me. you must love my face to come here at like 2 am every night."

"what can I say? I get really bad nightmares and your face does in fact make me feel better."

my gaze softened as I smiled.

"do you mind if I hang out in here and edit a video?"

"I'd love that." my heart fluttered at Johnnie's presence.

I turned around to clean the counters as he chose the table closest to where I was. he lazily opened his computer and pulled up the needed footage.

I hummed quietly to what was playing in my headphone as I finished wiping everything down. I fixed myself a coffee and went to sit across from him.

"I had the weirdest fucking encounter today." I mentioned.

he looked up. "what happened?"

"This guy came in and told me that I seemed stressed over a guy and that I'll know if he's the right person and I shouldn't fight my feelings off." I blurted, not bothering to rephrase it.

he made eye contact with me again, curiosity glistening in his eyes. "so, like, a connection you can't explain? thats really poetic."

"yeah, it's scary cause he's right." I mumbled.

"well, if you think you've found that person, then go for it. life's too short to not." he looks back down at his laptop.

"what if I'm not sure if he likes me back?"

a twinge of hurt flashed in his eyes. he seemed to be scrounging for ways to respond. "well, what if he's just as unsure as you?" he asked knowingly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "so should I really think on it?"

"you might be wasting time, but you never know. maybe waiting is a good decision." he avoided eye contact with me.

"are you good?"

"yeah." he trailed off, rubbing his arm.

silence filled the room for a good minute, I zoned out, staring into my coffee once more.

"have you ever felt that way?"

"felt like what?"

"when you like someone but you're terrified it'll ruin something good?" I pondered.

he looked up, his gaze softening. "yeah, the fear of losing someone so special even though nothing has happened yet?"

"yeah, exactly."

"well, I guess we have to take risks. step out of our comfort zone, you know?" he paused. "at least we could say we tried, right?"

"right." I whispered, awkward tension filled the room.

he cleared his throat. "when you know, you know."

[afniel]

The saga of Every Single Year Some New And Very Stupid Thing Goes Wrong With My Out-Of-Network ADHD Medication Management Referral is finally coming to an end, oh my god. They're doing it all in-house now, I am no longer a pachinko ball in the mysterious labyrinthine workings of insurance, and also the doctor I finally ended up talking to in order to get me sorted out was one I'd seen all the way back in 2015 for anxiety who

Still remembered me,

I still remembered,

Put in my notes back then that I was very pleasant to deal with,

Told me that every single other practitioner I've seen has also added that I'm very pleasant to deal with?

Which is like, hell yes, I am an anxious motherfucker with the brain worms but I'm very nice to people about it! I'm so nice about it that everyone even tells each other I'm nice about it! Which is way better than what my teachers used to write in my school records ("does not work well with others" was a running theme...).

The curse got a single parting shot in, and I accidentally scheduled my appointment over another important appointment, but that was easy to fix. This is such a load off of my mind.

Also I found out that I fell through the cracks so hard that I had an ADHD screening on file...with no given results listed? I distinctly remember them saying verbally on the phone that I "probably have ADHD, but we can't really determine to what degree," and basically then just leaving me hanging. Which explains why I had to push to get medicated. Plus side, since I've got a history of medication now and it's been clearly super helpful, I won't have issues with the lack of records, because the fact that the meds do help (even with things like improving sleep quality, which stimulants will not do on a person without ADHD) is enough evidence that I need them.

So that's a major quality of life improvement that I'm happy to have. Thank fuck. I've been having to sometimes drive to the other side of the Bay to get prescriptions refilled, and now I don't have to worry about that.