#I'll maybe color this fully next week

[utane]

Down by the river 💜🧡

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[thecowinblack]

Hi! Can you write a Luke Castellan x female reader, where they’re dating, Luke has a 4 year old little sister (daughter of Hermes) who is inseparable from him and the 3 of them act like a cute little family? I also had a thought of him calling them ‘his girls’. Maybe even a little angst at the end about him betraying the camp and seeing the two of them through an iris message comforting each other before sleep, bc his sister can’t sleep without him.

Thank you so much for sending this request, it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! 💕

His girls

Pairing: Luke x Reader

Word count: 972

Warnings⚠️: Fluff, against, blood and injurys

..................................................................................

Your table was completely empty since all of your siblings were away, they'd give home over christmas. Seeing everyone laught and have fun with their siblings made you feel so left out. Suddenly you felt two arms wrap around you, Millie. The 4-year old was probably the cutest human being in the entire universe and she always managed to paint a smile on your face.

“Luke is back! He's in the Apollo cabin, their checking a wound.” She told you excitedly. Luke had been gone for almost a month now and you'd missed him so much. Rushing up from the bench you ran to find him, Millie short after.

When you arrived at the Apollo cabin you told Millie to wait outside, if Luke was bleeding a lot then she shouldn’t see it. The first thing you saw was Will treating Luke as he sat in one of their hospital chairs.

“Luke!” You said, happily.

“Y/N!” He coughed. You resched his bed and saw a ginormous wound in his stomach. Fear filled you, what if he wouldn't make it? You couldn't lose him! Millie couldn't lose him. As if saw the fear taking over your eyes Luke mumbled:

“I'm going to be alright sweetheart, when they are done patching me up wouldn't you mind getting Millie?” You answered: “She's waiting outside, I didn't want her to get scared if there was lots of blood.” Luke har you a week smile and you took his hand sitting down in a chair that stood next to his bed.

After about like thirty minutes Will was done and Luke fell asleep. You called Millie and she came and sat in a chair next to you. You reached out for her hand and explained that he was fine, Luke would recovered fully in a couple days and then he could go back to practice. While you were calming her Luke woke up.

“Hi my sweet girls, won't you give me a hug?” Millie basically jumped on him and it was only when you said: “Careful!” She calmly hugged him. Both of them now looked at you and with a sight you hugged him to, you just couldn't say no to these two. Laying your head at Lukes chest he sweetly combed your hair with his fingers, you looked up and kissed him gently, afraid that it somehow would hurt him. He giggled like a child and kissed you harder, like a boy who'd been away from the girl he loved for far to long. Behind you Millie clapped her hands excitedly and a small laugh escaped you.

__________________________________

__________________________________

“Millie are you coming? Luke is waiting for us by the water!” You shouted, waiting for Luke's little sister. The two of you were supposed to meet with Luke by the lake ten minutes ago. Millie hadn't left her cabin yet. You decided to check on her in the almost empty Hermes cabin that you'd been waiting outside of. Walking in you saw Millie crying in the middle of the floor. “Oh gods what's wrong sweetie?” you said lifting her up and hugging her.

“I can't find the bracelets that I was going to give to you and Luke. I made the pearl's and they were so pretty, then yesterday I put them on my nightstand but now they're gone!” She cried. “Alright I'll help you look!” You said walking over to her nightstand.

A few minutes later the bracelets were recovered and you and Millie where walking down to the lake. The bracelet she'd given you was adorable; they were colorful and had your initials on. Luke had a matching one with his initials. As you finally arrived at the lake, Millie riding piggyback on you, Luke waited a bit from the water.

“Lukeeee!” Millie shouted.

“You’re finally here! What took you so long?” He asked rushing forward to take Millie from your back and placing his hand in hers and Millie quickly took your hand in her free one.

“Well Millie lost something, but we found it!” You said handing over his bracelet, which you had in your bag, filled with towels and bathing suits.

“Oh Millie it's beautiful, thank you!” He told her as Millie giggled. When you got to the beach you all changed into bathing suits and jumped into the water. Millie decided that the three of you were going to watch Percy trying to impress Annabeth with his water manipulation, it wasn't going so very well. As you stood there Luke threw his arm around your shoulder watching Millie play with the small water horses that Percy had created. Your little girl was giggling and laughing as they ran on the surface around her.

Luke thought that he'd never meet anyone even half as perfect as you. And as you stood there, watching Millie, he wondered how he'd ended up with these perfect girls, his girls.

____________________________________________________________________

You'd just finished reading Millie a bedtime story when she'd fallen asleep in your arms, no one in your cabin had a problem with her sleeping here after Luke's betrayal. Millie had just cried and cried in the Hermes cabin, not being able to fall asleep without her brother so you'd taken her here. Your bed was more than big enough. Listening to her snores you fell asleep, falling into the world of dreams.

Luke had meant to speak to you, he expected you to be awake when he Iris messaged you, as you'd always had trouble falling asleep. What he didn't expect was his girls curled up in your large bed. A book was sitting at your night stand and he could see your face. You were calm, happy with her. But something seemed to be missing in the large bed, a space that looked like they were saving, saving for him.

[ih34rt-lanceystrxlly]

Hi! Can I request a Carlos Sainz x Reader?

The reader is a fashion blogger and one day got asked to do a photoshoot for Mercedes with Lewis Hamilton, it turned out great because even the fans are starting to ship them online and all over social medias. Carlos gets adorably jealous of seeing her in other team’s color and the fans reaction didn’t help either.

Thanks!

It's not nothing

table of contents/pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: check request !!

warnings: some cursing, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content but no actual smut.

message from A☆: Has this been sitting in my drafts for weeks ? Yes. Did I fully scrap the original fic ? Yes. But here it is !! I felt this kind of trope was especially fitting after Carlos' win in Australia, so I tied that in. ALSO, WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK. Again, sorry for taking so long to get this request done, but I hope you enjoy...

It was just her job. That's what Carlos kept telling himself as he looked at the pictures. Y/N, one of his closest friends and a very popular fashion girly, had done a photo shoot with Lewis Hamilton, his replacement. Now sure, Carlos hadn't left Ferrari just yet, hell the season had barely even started, but it was just a sad coincidence. The longer he stared at the photos the more jealous he became, he felt stupid for it. But she looked gorgeous in silver and green, even though she'd look better in red, and the way they had Lewis pose with his hands around her waist made him want to claw his eyes out. And to make matters worse, fans all over the internet kept making little comments about the idea of her and Lewis being together. He needed to keep reminding himself, they were just friends. Just friends. But friends didn't think of each other the way Carlos thought of Y/N. Friends didn't crave each other the way Carlos craved Y/N. But it was whatever, it was nothing, he had remind himself.

It. Was. Nothing.

---

Ok, so maybe it's not nothing. He was trying to celebrate his win in Australia, enjoy himself with his team and his friends, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Mercedes had invited Y/N to the Grand Prix, so she'd been in the paddock the whole weekend. It was easy to distract himself from her when he was wrapped up in his work, but now watching her from afar as she swayed her hips on the dance floor, it was too much. Her dress sparkled beneath the lights, her hair swished around in tandem with her body, she looked perfect. It was eating him alive, he needed to do something. He needed her.

"Carlos!" She screamed excitedly over the music, looking up at him with an almost drunken gaze. It wouldn't be shocking if she was drunk, they were out partying, and as much as Carlos didn't want to admit it he was a little tipsy too.

"Hey..." He said as he took her waist in his hands. She didn't stop dancing, letting him press her body into hers as they swayed to the music, what's the worst that could happen? They were best friends. Friends dance together. It was nothing. But then dancing turned into teasing touches, and then kisses, and then running off together to Carlos' room. So yeah, it definitely wasn't going to be nothing the next day.

---

He was the first to wake up of the two. The sight of her tangled in his bedsheets and arms made his heart want to sink. What if he'd ruined it with a drunken mistake? He grounded himself with a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't freak out once she awoke.

About 20 minutes later, Y/N began to wake up. She looked around confused for a moment, until her eyes met a very familiar pair of brown ones. Oh shit, she thought to herself, I've fucked everything up. She went to try and speak or stand up, but she felt Carlos' hand on hers, stopping her.

"Look Y/N, I know this is..."

"Carlos, I'm so sorry, I'll leave ri-"

"Cariño, relájate (darling, relax)...look, I don't know if i can keep lying to myself and you. I like you, a lot. And it just seems so stupid to me because you're on of my best friends in the whole world, friends shouldn't want each other the way I want you. It felt like it just blew up in my face after you did that photoshoot for Mercedes with Lewis, and all the stuff that's been happening. It just made me feel so...like I needed to have you all to myself. But at the same time I don't want to ruin what we have, so if you don't feel the same just forget this ever happened..." He kept going on his rant, and she just stared at him a little bewildered yet flattered.

"Carlos...who said I don't like you like that?" She giggled, taking his hand in hers once again. He looked into her eyes with a wide-eyed and relieved look, smiling brightly as he took her face into his hands and gently kissed her. He pulled back seconds later.

"I'm going to fast, aren't I?" He said with a bashful look to him.

"I mean...we're already here, so might as well" She smiled up at him with the warmest smile and the most loving eyes. If anyone happened to see the pair they'd think they were soulmates, which they very possibly were. And so in that moment, Carlos thought to himself, maybe it's not nothing anymore.

[pygmi-cygni]

Playing Favorites - pt 2

do i have another fic I should be updating? yes

am i?

no.

i like having gifs of poe to stare at dreamily while i mentally scream over my writer's block.

warnings: none, feels, mentions of anxiety, comfort

xox enjoy

@brighterthanlonelywords part 2 as promised!!!!!!

read part one

--------- Episode 2 - Baby steps -----------

You steadfastly ignored him for the next week. Your bruises healed with bacta and time, but the residual terror still had its claws fully seated in your mind. Thompson's glare flashed every time you closed your eyes. The raw, unadulterated hatred still shook you. Never had you seen somebody so cruel.

"Knock knock."

You froze at the familiar voice, back turned to the door. Your seat was big enough, could you pretend like it was empty and hide under the desk? If you sat still long enough, he'd go away. Maybe-

In your pondering of an escape plan, Poe had already rounded the desk and stuck his beaming face into your line of sight.

"Hiya, cutie. Changed the hair again, I see." Your hair was tied up with ribbons, colored orange and black.

"Nice colors," he winked. You flushed.

"They're for BB," you lied through gritted teeth. Poe, unaware or uncaring of your closed-off attitude, collapsed into a chair opposite you and grinned.

"Been a while, I was wondering if you'd forgotten me." He was fiddling with the galactic model on your desk, spinning the Inner and Outer Rim like a DJ disc.

You didn't answer, picking at your skin. He paused, scooting closer. His gaze was soft, imploring.

"You okay?" Poe's voice was soft, intimate. It had been a week since the Thing. Thompson had been decommissioned and General Organa had done her best to soothe the concerns of you and your fellow squadmates.

But still, the fear remained.

You nodded mutely, knowing you couldn't speak the lie. Poe, smarter than he looked, called bullshit and sighed.

"I know I'm not your favorite," he said, "but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. Just a little bit." He held his hand up for emphasis, fingers almost touching.

A faint glimmer of a smile, and then it was gone. You still stared at the floor, willing yourself not to cry. Realizing you needed space, he touched his forehead to yours and left, closing the door gently behind him.

A still warm cup of caf had been left on your desk, with a little BB unit sketched on the side.

Sorry for the trouble. I'd like to see that smile again.

P

You dropped your head on your desk and cried.

It went like that for the next few weeks. You would hide away in your office and Poe would silently walk in, leaving coffee and a note. Sometimes he'd linger, poking around your belongings and tossing out a relayed hello from Beebs.

You never looked at him.

Until a Tuesday in the middle of the blandest week to date. A few officers stormed in, making you spill your coffee, and tossed a very burnt looking pilot into your office.

"Engine fire,"

"Messin' around,"

"Fistfight,"

they all said over each other. Still pissed about your precious caf, you waved them off and toweled your desk down.

"This better be good, because that was my last cup of caf."

"If it's the caf I brought you, does it cancel out?"

Your head snapped up to meet Poe's sheepish grin. He was smoking slightly, the very ends of his hair crisped to charcoal. Ashen grease coated every inch of him, and you frowned to think of the stain he was leaving on your chair.

"What the hell?"

Poe, to his credit, told the story neatly and without embellishment. He'd been fooling around in his X-wing and shot a rogue blast into another pilot's droid pit. A grease fire followed, and here he was. You shrunk into yourself. There was no getting out of this.

"I'll need a full damage report within the hour, and your flight status will be reconsidered for ineligibility. Please-"

"Don't."

You stopped, stuttering like a broken speeder. This wasn't- shit, no, you needed to stick to the script and don't look at him- your eyes met his. Poe was looking at you desperately, eyes shining.

"Please don't ignore me," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to get you hurt and I just wanted-"

"Poe," you stammered, looking at him with raging tears. "I need...I need you to go away. For a wh-while. Please."

He looked like a kicked puppy. "I'm-"

"Please."

Your cheeks were streaking, the mascara you'd carefully applied with the hope of no tears today was pitifully washed away. Just like yesterday, when he'd faked an argument with Rose to end up in a disciplinary meeting with you.

Or last week, when he tried to tell Organa that you needed to interview him for a recon debrief.

Or every single other time he'd tried to apologize and you'd shut him down.

It hurt you, too. You missed him, and you wanted to accept his apology and hug him and wipe the mopey look off his face. But it made your heart quake and your breaths come short.

It was scary. You could be cold, you could shut down, that was familiar. But the new thing with friends and a fuzzy feeling inside made you cower with fear. You didn't know what to do with that. Where did it go from there?

You curled up in your bunk, shuddering in the darkness. It didn't feel comforting anymore - it felt like you were a little kid hiding from the monster under your bed.

Driving a stake through your heart, you wrapped a comforter around your shoulders and padded down the hall.

Your voice was soft when his door shhfffed open.

"Can I have the R2-D2 light this time?"

Your legs swung off the edge of his bunk. Poe sat gingerly across from you, cradling his night-light so that both of your faces were lit. As promised, R2-D2 sat comfortingly on the bedside table.

"Why are you scared of the dark?" You asked suddenly.

He perked up at your voice and smiled. "Dunno. Just never got over the idea of something hiding in the shadows."

You nodded, burrowing into your blanket. Poe was anticipating your next question, rocking slowly on his heels.

"Why'd you change your hair?" He asked, timidly. Not sure if you'd bite or run away.

You poked your nose out of the blanket burrito.

"I missed you," you blurted, tears welling again. Containing his monumental relief, Poe settled a hand on where he thought your arm was under the duvet. Me too, his gentle caress said. More than you think.

"I-I'm sorry, Poe, I didn't m-mean to..." you trailed off into tears as he soothed you, wiping the tears from your face. The warm glow from his nightlight was dimmed by you being pulled into his lap. He leaned against the headboard, your head under his chin.

The hug was messy and uncoordinated; what with you being wrapped in a comforter and his hands being entangled in your hair. Your heart had broken into shards, and it wouldn't be easy picking it back up. Poe knew. He knew enough to stay quiet, letting you wring yourself dry in the safe circle of his arms and the halo of R2D2's glowing form.

Poe was in agony. He knew this would take time. A single night of closeness wouldn't shatter the sky-high walls you'd built around yourself. But he was losing his mind with the urge to pound them down with his fists and skip to the i love you please love me back and fly into the sunset.

But he could wait. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets to prevent from touching you, almost tearing his flightsuit with the strength of his grip. You sat stiffly next to him, so distant he wanted to cry.

He wanted you to look at him. To say something, even if it was a tease or a scathing remark for his tardiness. He'd purposefully strode into the meeting late to attract any kind of attention from you, but your eyes stayed shut.

So he laid his chin on his hands and tried to pay attention. He was never good at these kinds of events. Too much talking, too many pictures and pages of information. He needed time to read and think and doodle and do something other than just sit there.

Poe knew his fidgeting was distracting, so he tried to keep it to a minimum. You weren't acknowledging him directly, but he could feel your mild irritation every few minutes.

General Ackbar was still talking, but the buttons on his suit were so tempting to snap and his hands were bored-

A sharp jab in his ribs made him yelp. Whipping around, he was prepared to cuss out-

oh.

Your hand was outstretched, hiding under the table. A small silver ring was in your palm, attached to a thin chain. He took it slowly, gauging your face. You stayed turned towards Ackbar, but inclined your chin subtly and returned to writing notes.

His heart trilled at the small gift, turning it over to inspect it. There were multiple bands, and they spun together nicely. Poe fiddled with it, grateful for the distraction. A gentle whirring sound made him grin. It was a neat little toy. The rest of the meeting fell on his deaf ears, totally enraptured with the ring.

As soon as the debrief was adjourned, you sped off before he could return it.

Oh well, another excuse to see you. Not that he wanted to give it back, but he did want to see your face. Poe hung it around his neck and tucked it under his collar fondly. It clicked against his mother's ring, right over his heart.

That night, in his bunk, he sat awake. His gaze was focused on the door, awaiting a timid knock. He'd made sure both the night lights were charged and waiting.

A small ping on his tablet and he was scrambling to pull it off the charger.

Notes from today, read the message, and your familiar scrawl filled the screen. He grinned, settling down to peer through your looping handwriting. You'd drawn diagrams, which he knew you hated but helped his brain connect the dots. The sections were even color-coded.

He studied the drawings until his eyes fluttered closed, hugging the glowing remnants of you close to his chest.

One step forward.

Poe was back to his chipper self the next day, revived by your small act of kindness.

He engaged in a raucous round of sabacc with the Gold squadron, still laughing even after being thoroughly trounced.

"Good to see you again, Black Leader," Rose jibed, nudging him in the ribs. "I was afraid that last engine fire mighta smoked your brains out."

"Yeah," Gold Two chimed in, "what's up with your record, dude? Got some kind of unlucky streak?"

Poe's ears were flaming. "Uh, whaddya mean?"

Rose's eyebrows were dancing a mirthful tango. "Oh, nothing, we've just noticed your tendency for clumsiness has...increased. I mean, I knew you were a mess but damn-" she pulled up his record. "Two grease fires in a month? Sheeeesh, those HR officers must be sick of you."

Gold Two's eyes glimmered. "Unless....it's one officer in particular?"

He was certain his cheeks were blistering from the heat pulsing under his skin. "It's been a rough while, alright? Until I see you complete a barrel roll without pissing yourself, shut your mouth."

Two guffawed. 'Low blow, Dameron, low blow."

Having barely dodged that bullet, Poe laughed. "Hey, at least I'm not walking around with wet boxers."

"Boxers? Who said I was wearing any?"

Rose made a gagging noise and shoved away from the howling men. "Y'all are nasty," she said, screwing up her face, "I'm out." Another raucous round of laughter followed her out. Poe chuckled again, poking at his food, but the familiar nagging in his chest was beginning to return.

Just go say hi. Wave. Walk past her door. Maybe peek through the blinds?

He wanted to toss his food at the wall. This was so stupid. You were both adults, you could have a normal conversation without stumbling around each other like emotionally repressed apes.

Before he could lose the nerve, Poe stood up and strode out, jaw set. Gold Two looked up quizzically but made no comment. You were most likely holed up in your office, buried under paperwork and meetings and Important Things that permanently framed your face in a pout.

But he wanted to see you. And because he was also Important and desperately in love with you, his attention took priority over all else. Well, he thought it should at least.

To his shock, you were leaning back in your chair with a holovid playing quietly on your tablet. You looked up, but didn't tell him to go away. Poe hovered, waiting for a dismissal.

It didn't come.

Like trying not to spook a bluurg, he carefully seated himself next to you and slid his gaze to your screen. It was some action flick that had been released a few days ago. It looked awful, in his opinion, but your shampoo smelled nice and he liked the domesticity of watching a movie.

You had a penknife in your hand and were flipping it around. It was mesmerizing; the nimbleness of your fingers as they twirled around the glittering blade. Poe's hand went to the ring you gave him, gaze glued to your gentle expression. He wanted so badly to hug you.

"Hey," he whispered, mindful of the vid.

You swallowed and he saw your lips twitch.

"Hi."

"How's it been?" God, it felt like an awkward first date.

You looked at your hands. "Okay. Not too bad."

Poe nodded, picking up on your hesitant tone. You didn't want him here. He hung his head, biting his lip. Maybe next ti-

"How...about you?" You added softly. He looked up, surprised. Your head was tilted to him, hands stilling. A tiny sliver of hope begun to shimmer in his chest. Maybe...

"It was good," he said, "did a bunch of drills, some reports-"

"I saw," you blurted. "I...I um, I saw your scores. You did a good job."

Poe sat back, awestruck. you were talking. to him. nicely. was he dreaming?

"An honest to God compliment," he breathed. Immediately, he clapped a hand over his mouth. Fuck. It was so immediate; that comfortable banter from Before. he'd forgotten.

But you didn't hide this time. He saw it, the instinct to cower, but you fought it. "Don't get used to it," you poked drily.

A grin brighter than the Yavin suns split his face in two. You gave a tentative smile in return, subtly leaning closer to him. Your gaze returned to the movie, but Poe's stayed firmly on you.

Baby steps.

His hand twitched, inching closer until he looped his pinky with yours. His heart preened when you linked tighter, brushing your palm against his hand.

Baby steps, one at a time. You'd get there. One day.

do you guys like it??? idk how to feel oh well xox

also I will die on the hill that Poe is ADHD. 100%.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@krakenkitty

comment to join the taglist

[mayhemmaws]

TEMPORARY CLOSE!!! THANKS FOR UNDERSTANDING! FREE ART 16+! It will be a headshot with their name! It will be fully colored and shaded too! So I'd like to draw people's fursonas! Preferably repost with your fursona showing their personality or write a little bit about them too! (Please show a ref image otherwise you probably wont be picked, sorry!) I'd love to draw them for free! I'll probably only be drawing a random handful of characters so don't be disappointed if I don't pick you! I'd love to do free art every two ish weeks maybe a month so just look forward for the next batch!

QUICK NOTE! ANYONE UNDER SIXTEEN PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME! FOR ANYONE UNDER SIXTEEN WHO DO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYTHING A MINOR DOES ON THIS PAGE WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE!

[katy-l-wood]

If you're an indie author who has considered working with a printer in China, but hesitated because working with an international printer seems scary, here's how my week went to show you that it absolutely is not scary.

I have a Kickstarter planned for my next book in January. I needed two things for this at the moment: some arc copies to send around to a few book influencers ahead of the campaign, and an actual sample of the fancy version of the book that I'm aiming for with the Kickstarter.

I decided to use IngramSpark for the arc copies because I'd get them a lot quicker, and they'd be cheaper since I only need a few. So I put together all my files, get everything all sorted into the proper templates and file types and everything. Get all the way to the last stage of uploading everything and...error code. Error code #303, specifically. What is error code #303? Who knows! Ingram certainly doesn't tell you. Just says to "contact your credit representative." I figure "credit representative" might mean it's an issue with my credit card, so I put a different one in. Nope, still error #303. Okay, maybe it's a browser issue. Let's try the dreaded Chrome. Nope, still getting #303ed. Website issue? I'll just try again tomorrow. Nope, still #303ed. I found one single old Reddit thread that mentions the error, but it was in relation to using a promo code for the upload fee. But Ingram doesn't HAVE upload fees anymore, so...???

I finally cave and send a ticket to the help desk, dreading how long it will take given Ingram doesn't like to provide customer service unless you pay them these days. Shockingly, they get back to me in about a day, but only to tell me that I have to instead contact this weird other "credit support" email. They don't forward it to them or anything, just tell me to do it myself. So I do, copying over my original email about the mysterious #303 error. Few hours later they reply saying the issue has been fixed. I still have no idea what the issue was, mind you, but I did finally get my book shoved all the way through the process. But! But! Now I have to wait 2-3 days for them to create a digital proof for me to approve before I can actually order the damn thing. And last time I did this, my book got stuck again and I had to email them again to get it fully pushed through which took about an additional week total. So when will I actually be able to order these arcs? Who knows!

Meanwhile, I emailed my printer in China on Sunday night about the sample of the fancy version and my representative got back to me by Monday morning with a fully detailed quote on exactly what I needed, various photos of samples all under the same lighting so I could pick the right colors for everything, and templates ready to go based on my specifications. She did it so fast I actually wasn't ready for her and had to tell her it'd be another 48 hours before I could get her the files.

So yeah. Working with international manufacturers who actually give a shit is a DELIGHT. No need to be intimidated by it.

[jtl-fics]

May I propose: ex boyfriends au. Neil and Andrew go back in time per usual, but they arrive together at the beginning of Neil's recruitment to palmetto. They agree that for now, they should keep it low key and not change much in fear of making the future worse. But, they come to find out that repeating your life exactly the same way is BORING. So, they decide to spice it up a bit. In order to explain their familiarity to the foxes, they create this awfully dramatic backstory full of twists and betrayals, where neil met Andrew while he was with Cass and then Andrew did something to land them both in Juvie, and maybe in juvie they betrayed each other or smthn. All of its fake but the foxes eat it up. Neil and Andrew even incorporate song lyrics that haven't been made into fake arguments that they have for fun (strawberry ice cream in Malibu don't act like we didn't do that shit too) and the foxes fully believe that they're ex boyfriends. But even they can't fully hide the affection they have for each other and when that bleeds through the fixes think they're witnessing the best second chance trope when in reality they're just fucking around

This is such a funny concept.

I am going to add one thing though. In this AU Neil and Andrew made it all the way to their 90s. They went to sleep in their bed old, in love, and happy together. They've both been getting more and more tired lately, they know what's coming. They've seen it with their friends. It's fine, whatever the next step is they're going to go together. If one leaves a little early, well they've had years to get patient while waiting for the other to catch up.

They pass together and their great grand nephew (Kevin's) finds them the next morning (he'd been staying with them to help with a few things. They're holding hands.

They find themselves in the immediate aftermath of Andrew having driven an Exy racquet into Neil's stomach. There's a moment where Andrew truly panics because "OH FUCK, WHAT IF I RUPTURED HIS COLOSTOMY BAG?" and then oh he never really forgot how Neil looked (Neil had been the one that needed the reminders about things) but seeing his husband at 18 with brown hair, wire thin frame, and brown eyes? It throws him off even if he'd know Neil no matter what hair color or eye color.

Kevin comes up and it's been almost 10 years since he'd died but he's there young, no liver spots, and with a 2 on his face again.

They have long been able to talk to one another without a single word. Now that Andrew's face has full range of motion again (partial stroke 3 years before) it's even easier.

"So this is where you ran off to?" Andrew demands.

"Oh, like I had a choice after what you pulled!" Neil shoots back.

Cue two old fucks who are now in the prime of their life bodies and when they lost a lot of their mobility with age the thing they had most loved to do was fuck with their numerous grand nieces and nephews (I am stating right here that every fox who has a kid FULLY views Andreil as uncles so it does not matter if there is a blood relation).

Neil and Andrew rarely need to lie about the shit they've gotten up to, it just hasn't happened yet. They only make it like 2 weeks MAX pretending like they're mad at one another. They've slept in the same bed holding hands for 70 years. They don't do well when they're separated and Andrew is on that god awful medication but this time they know the medical expert who can argue about how BAD this whole shit show is and they know the lawyer to hire. Neil might dip heavily into his stash money but they know more than enough to make that cash back.

Andrew off his meds almost a whole year early via an outpatient treatment.

Still they keep referencing some insane past. "I'll say sorry for getting us thrown in Juvie when YOU apologize for lighting the car on fire in the first place!" he huffs.

"Then I guess we're at a standstill."

These arguments are had while they are absolutely all over one another because a bunch of parts of theirs just WORK again and that's super fun for both of them. They seem like Seth & Allison 2.0 with 8x the history but Neil makes Andrew act like a human and not a monster so they're all very invested in the relationship working out.

This past is also NEVER elaborated on but they never fuck up the fabrication of it either. Andrew because his perfect memory and Neil because even decades later he is a super tier liar.

They're having fun, it's sort of like being back with all their grand nieces and nephews except it's all of their friends (+Seth). The Original Foxes were long used to Neil & Andrew's shit so it was impossible to mess with them like this.

They're going to have a blast.

Edit: Thanks @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm for the fun idea once again!

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 39 Doomish Hope Posting

Hi internet void. I've got bachi on the brain again.

Chapter 39 is the "if they aren't soulmates I'll eat every hat I own" moment of the series. Also seems like the "Hakuri will be shelved once the mission is done" chapter, which is a fucking shame. But I will remain calm(ish) and wait for Hokazono-sensei to finish cooking. So we start off with some really nice foreshadowing coupled with a little continuity update. Mr. Inazuma found his way to Char and Hinao and sees some of the folks from the storehouse get dropped off at the entrance, but his sister isn't among them. Hmm. Then, we switch back to the fight and see our precious Hakuri struggling. He's got a free-flowing nosebleed and a splitting headache trying to keep up with his dad's manipulation of the subspace. And hey look, some more foreshadowing. (Hint: Kyoura isn't talking to Chihiro full time here.)

Yet once again Kyoura underestimates his son...

… while Chihiro's faith never wavers. Once more, despite nothing being said between them, they fight in perfect harmony.

Aaaaah. THESE GUYS. They've known each other for weeks at most and they're already doing this mad OP shit? Hakuri awakened to his storehouse powers less than an hour ago and he's already copying his dad's techniques to match Chihiro's fighting style? Chihiro fucking yeeted Enten at Kyoura without a word and Hakuri instantly understood that he needed to teleport him to the other side to catch it, then create a hologram for a fake-out so Chihiro could land the blow? Are you KIDDING ME? Our color-coded protagonist/foil pair are acting as one already? Hokazono-sensei's gotta slow down or we won't have anything left to explore with them.

Maybe that's the intention, though.

The little flashback where young Hakuri tells his father that "I'm gonna become a leader who surpasses you!" is a huge moment in the chapter for two reasons. First, the emotional catharsis that I'll rant about later. Second, the next potential bit of foreshadowing. When Hakuri initially met Chihiro, his stated goal was to end the Rakuzaichi, which we took him at his word for. He didn't know he was actually the second coming of Sazanami Jesus and neither did we. But that single panel recontextualized everything. If Hakuri hadn't been deemed worthless and disowned, the Toukuri AU could have been pretty close to canon. He's actually a very ambitious guy- no wonder he was so dogged about getting Chihiro to help him! Obviously, his goal shifted from "become a better leader than my father" to "burn it all down" at some point during the time where he was abused. But what if he never fully let go of that dream?

We see that the Sazanami family is huge and powerful enough that even the government treads lightly around them. So it's not a stretch to think that Sazanamis will be able to continue on even without Kyoura as long as they have a capable leader. Someone perhaps a bit more reform-minded to keep the government off their back while they adjust to a new way of doing things. A guy who's too stubborn to quit and powerful enough to quell the critics; a legitimate heir who invokes the legend of their progenitor's genius, perhaps. Someone who has a deeply personal stake in erasing the legacy they were all groomed to protect. So yeah, Hakuri could very easily get wrapped up in his family's business while Chihiro moves on. Not to say he would never be relevant again- the storehouse ability alone practically guarantees he's sticking around in some capacity (gotta have a safe place to keep those WMDs and all). But I'm steeling myself for seeing a lot less of this lethal cinnamon roll in a few chapters.

Ideally for me at least, Hakuri and Chihiro end the Rakuzaichi and let the government step in to take care of the aftermath. Hakuri, being disowned and having completed his revenge, decides to stay with Chihiro to help him on his own journey. And wouldn't it just be so sweet if much later on Chihiro adopts him into his family register so Hakuri has a last name he can be proud of? But the very real chance of Hakuri being sidelined is preventing me from full investment right now. It all depends on the themes Hokazono-sensei is intending to impart with this arc.

The theme of reforming your family's violent legacy is obviously deeply resonant with Chihiro's current mission. The two of them have basically speedran the development from strangers to soulmates so that this could happen. I just don't understand why we'd do all of this relationship upgrading in a single arc if Hakuri was meant to stick around and grow with Chihiro y'know? What could possibly be left open for them after this? Wouldn't it be too OP to keep them together when they're already silently dancing through battles in perfect sync? They've already reached peak combat effectiveness or close to it. And though Hakuri's family issues are very likely to still be an albatross around his neck, those are for him to tackle now that he's found his strength; Chihiro's got other things to focus on. Leaving the arc with Hakuri posed to reform the Sazanamis would be a worthy culmination of his story. At this point he's practically used goods (narratively speaking)! Chihiro learned a lesson and made a friend. Time for something new… maybe checking in on the Kamunabi? A little downtime before finding the next sword? Either way, Hakuri doesn't need to be there when he could be rehabilitating his family's image and purpose. Unless…

He's used to explore the theme of healing from tragedy as the heroine.

Yes I'm spouting my bullshit again and yes I'm very fucking serious about this. My clown suit is freshly dry-cleaned and neatly laid out because I could easily be wrong but I think (hope) I'm not. Mostly because it seems like Hokazono-sensei wants to keep showing us glimpses of Chihiro's true feelings under his hardened persona. Very smart thing to do in order to get readers invested beyond his badass action stunts and tragic backstory. But we need someone to bounce off of him and be a direct contrast or else we're stuck with lonely ol' :| Chihiro all the time. (I love the deadpan gags but they won't stay fresh forever if that's the only joke to make with him.) We need a real companion for him that's on his level. Chihiro's so far skewed into expressionless determinator outside of battle that he desperately needs a polar opposite to help mellow him out. I raved like a lunatic about it already so I won't retread all that… but if Hakuri isn't a color-coded foil to balance out Chihiro's extreme personality then fuck me for thinking I'm somewhat media literate, I guess. We need Hakuri for levity and being able to relate to Chihiro. Poor guy desperately needs a friend to help pull him out of his own head. If Char is there for protection, and Shiba to guide him, Hakuri should be there for him to grow with in an emotional sense. Someone he can start opening up to in quiet moments.

The memers got it badly wrong assuming that Chihiro was a one-dimensional revenge bot- he's actually a sensitive guy carrying a lot of pain he can't express. Not to Char (small child), not to Shiba, Azami, or Hinao (adults he's emotionally closed off from). It's gotta be a peer like Hakuri who will eventually be able to sit by his side and help him. We've seen the magic of Hakuri's presence already- Chihiro admitting he was fearful of Shinuchi being misused in the elevator scene, helping him overcome his doubts about using Enten, and later helping him let Enten go. Yuge stuff for guys that just met each other, don't you think? Then it was followed by all that soulmate-coded stuff in the raid… It would be awful for Chihiro to lose the friend he can confide in. So if the story pulls them apart my heart will break a little bit, yeah. There's so much more Hakuri can do just by being there for Chihiro in a way no one else can right now. Chihiro needs his heroine to be vulnerable with, so let it be the guy who's already done the heavy lifting! Hakuri's a sturdy guy, after all- I'm sure he can handle being comic relief and emotional support.

Alright. HakuHiro delusions aside, I'm also going absolutely apeshit over the parallels being drawn here during the chapter. Feral. Certifiably insane. Cannot stop myself from jizzing all over the goddamn place. If Hokazono-sensei can keep this quality storytelling through Kagurabachi's entire run it'll be a fucking masterpiece.

I mentioned at the start that Mr. Inazuma's sister was used to foreshadow that the fight between Kyoura and team HakuHiro wouldn't end decisively this chapter. Her situation won't be resolved until the Rakuzaichi is completely over with, so that catharsis will have to wait. What we did get is absolutely stellar though. Kyoura definitely got the ultimate comeuppance for constantly underestimating Hakuri, too. The dialogue and inner thoughts leading up to this were a work of art- the reveal of Hakuri promising to overtake his dad as a kid and finally doing just that after being deemed worthless is mega satisfying (and another sign his arc is complete, but I choose to live in delulu land). However, it was the Daddy Issues theme that really stole the show for me this chapter.

Chihiro's conversation with Kyoura really drives home the irreconcilable differences they have on what it means to be a father, or even a family in the first place:

The Sazanamis are just a "clan" to Kyoura. A group of people dedicated to hosting the Rakuzaichi before anything else. Blood ties are only worthwhile for passing down Isou and the storehouse ability; there's no love lost between any member. And Chihiro most definitely does not agree with that mentality. We're constantly reminded of his rebuke about Kyoura's "best" being belief in Hakuri for a reason...

... because he is the antithesis of everything Chihiro believes a father should be. Chihiro's got some personal beef with this guy beyond reclaiming Shinuchi after seeing how he treats his kids. (This guy gets attached to people and starts killing for them right away if they've got dead or abusive parents… we love to see that empathy being manifested as murderous intent.)

This sequence killed me though:

Kyoura is paying the ultimate price for not loving his kids like a real father should. He's fucking toast because he stopped believing in Hakuri. Chihiro's outlook is validated in this victory, as is Hakuri's entire existence. Obviously there's a lot more still going on with the auction itself but it's almost mission accomplished and emotional catharsis achieved for Hakuri. Then we see the biggest message of this arc so far when Kyoura hides himself in the floor to keep the auction going at all costs… fanatical devotion at the expense of love leads to a Bad End. It's sad to see this guy put his whole being into selling a sword, man. He's dying and his only thought is to finish the auction. Not to seek help from his kids or even check on them, not to spare some dying words for Hakuri or the Tou or anyone else. He doesn't even question the life he lived that led to this point like you'd seen in other manga- Kyoura isn't shaken one bit by his untimely demise. He only cares about giving the highest bidder their merchandise.

That's the lesson here for Chihiro. He's hellbent on revenge right now- gather the swords, fuck up the Hishaku clan that killed his father. But losing himself in it will leave him no better off than Kyoura; even if he succeeds, he'll die alone in the end. His devotion to revenge is as strong as Kyoura's is to hold the auction. Both are rooted in their family's ideals and upbringing as well. Chihiro's saving grace is that he was raised with love and knows how to care. Forgetting all that, or giving that up to see his plans through will be a bad sign for his development. The people close to him will have to keep him centered or else he'll see the same terrible end (as much as it's possible; he's a very sad and broken boy). And we the reader will expect someone to be there to remind him of his humanity if he starts to show shades of this in future arcs. This very chapter, Hakuri had to encourage Chihiro to kill his dad even after he'd already asked him to do it- Chihiro's a kind guy even when he's in a fight to the death. This is precious. He can't lose this quality- we should be very alert for anything that hints at him starting to do so, because that will be the start of a very, very rough arc for him.

What about Hakuri? Well, he's been thoroughly vindicated ever since he awakened to his abilities; this whole raid has been his self-redemption arc. His character will probably be pretty complete once this is done, though there are lots of avenues to explore with him if Hokazono-sensei hears our pleas and keeps him around. He could have lingering trauma that needs to be healed- killing his dad won't help him escape his own demons after all. He's got a learning curve ahead to master his newfound abilities too. And perhaps even after finding his strength, he's still too hard on himself and needs someone to keep pushing him forward. Maybe once his life's mission is done he'll struggle with some dark emotions and need someone to help pull him out. There are plenty of little things to delve into with him to help us gain more insight into Chihiro! Please I'm so desperate to keep him around Hokazono-sensei for the love of god don't separate these boys. They're perfect supports for each other and as we all know, boys who suffer together should find solace together. If Azami/Shiba and Hiyuki/Tafuku can be foil pairs so can Hakuri/Chihiro! (Fuck me, I'm too invested already…)

Anyway. Kagurabachi continues to be peak fiction and I can't wait for what we'll see next week. If Hakuri becomes a permanent crew member I will glady put the clown suit away and start huffing copium that we'll see enough success to get an anime adaptation. I might even start writing fan fiction again (horror). If not, well... he'll still be dear to my heart. Peace out Bachibros who read this nonsense and stay tenoí.

[mitsua]

📖•°| 𝔖𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔫 reading MC's diary.

Warnings: none Genre: fluff

Series: Obey me! SWD? Words' count: 0.66k

MC's . . . GN!

Satan loved that you had a diary.

He knew you had one since you've told him a couple of times you'd had to write some experiences you´ve had said day and so on.

Some other times you've bring it up at some of your room dates and read him some of your stories.

But you've never actually showed him everything on it.

And of course, it was YOUR private diary, and he fully respected that as you respected him whenever he saw a cat at the street and crouch down to pet them.

But there was this one day he thought what other fascinating or simple human experiences you could've written in your diary.

This question started bothering him the next few days until he couldn't help it anymore, he felt so guilty, he swore he would let you go at your own pace at anything you'd like to show him, and this was your private belongings he was thinking about.

" I'll get a little more later since I've just ran accross Luke who said he wanted to show me some baking he did, I'm so sorry, you can make yourself comfortable at my room if you wish .". —he saw this message you've just delivered him on his way to another room date.

" It's fine, ask Luke if you can take some of it for our date as well ." Sending the next sticker to get done your conversation and keep on walking.

When he arrived, he spotted quickly the same difference that by now shouldn't be that surprising in how tidy your room is, comparing his.

And... a notebook at your desk.

He got closer to your bed and went to sit down when he saw his name written in that same notebook.

A detective is known to have a high level of curiosity and he couldn't hold it for a very long time, thinking you'd arrive in at least 10 minutes more, he'd have a little peak at those writings.

So when he started reading and imagining perfectly those sceneries written on it, with your own calligrahy, he instantly regreted it. It was your diary. The one he's been thinking about reading so guiltily for the past weeks.

But he'd be lying if he said he didn't like your words narrating any story. And now getting the chance of reading one by your own hand, your beautiful writing and ink changes to whenever something very important had to be lighted up, imagining your voice changing to any bashful expressiong you'd do in real life... it was amazing and so entertaining.

Those lighted notes were mostly about memories you've created with him, or some others were the memories you wanted to create. Such as dreams you've had with him, or maybe some dates you've planned for the next weeks.

It was all so perfectly there, Satan couldn't help but get startled when you came in, cookies in one hand covered with some cloth for them to not get cold and your hand bag in the other.

You quickly connected your rushed morning of writing in your diary to Satan being at your desk and his vaguely, but still, scared expression.

Before you said anything, standing shocked, Satan made his way infront of you and helped you carrying both things on your hands, explaining his mistake and apologizing deeply of his acts, fully conscious this would have never been the way you thought of showing him your private notes.

Hearing him describing your color codes, memories and some doodles you had there, it all made you forget some of your anger with him. He just did it out of curiosity and you were also at fault by leaving your notebook out with the door unlocked, in a house with 7 demons who could ever so easily enter and wander around.

"I think your writing is very charming and still, I can't help but want to hear those same notes from you whenever you feel like..."

All writings' rights reserved © 2023 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the pictures and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[evelightnavi]

Midnight Blue Ⅳ

♤ Featuring: Neteyam x Female Omatikaya Reader

♤ Word count: 1.8k

♢ I'm Evelight_Navi on wattpad, parts will also be uploaded there.

Part 5

♢♢----------------------♢♢

Lo'ak and you had become close over the last few weeks. High tree like Lo'ak called it, had become a place you both would go often together. It wasn't a secret spot, though. Even though you had become closer, there were no love like feelings between the two of you. You hoped this would work out as your parents intended, but stay away from Neteyam was hard. You had tried staying away from him, but being with Lo'ak made it difficult.

You walked with Spider to his home. But you couldn't get Neteyam's face out of your head. He had seemed so happily every time you saw him with Inani, his arranged mate. Maybe he had changed his mind about his arrangement. He seemed different ever since the day you and Lo'ak got arranged. "You know, everyone has seen that there's something going between you two." Spider said as you snapped back to reality. Your eyes widened, and you could feel the heat raising to your cheeks. He knew how I felt about Neteyam?! "Lo'ak told me you guys go to high tree a lot. That does explain why Kiri and I can't find you two lately." You slowed your pace as he continued. You nodded, not knowing how to respond. Spider looked at you as you didn't give him the response he expected. He studied your face, trying to figure out how you felt.

"I know how you both feel, but it could've been worse. At least you have someone to spend your life with! Come on, look at me! I don't even have any peers my age. Sometimes, that makes me wish I was born like you. But that doesn't mean I don't get to enjoy spending time with you!" With a small smile, he nudged you. It made you laugh because you knew he wasn't wrong. Not that you would ever admit that. "You always know what to say to male me feel better." He smiled, felling proud of this accomplishment. "There is nothing wrong with Lo'ak or the arrangement. It's just... I wished it would've been..." You couldn't finish your sentence, afraid you would say too much. A worried face took over spiders' proud look. "You wished it would've been someone else?" He questioned, making you nod. "He uhm... It just isn't meant to be." You tried your best explaining. "You could go against the arrangement when you're old enough. But it isn't that easy, is it?" You shook your head as you stopped at the end of the forest. Spider gave you a reassuring smile as he patted your back before walking the rest of the way alone.

You wanted to be alone before going home. So you decided to go to your secret place. The wind was blowing just hard enough to move all the plants and leaves. It made an opening through the trees, making the sky visible. You walked around making all the plants glow up, which gave your body a purple shine. You stood still taking everything around you in. The breeze was blowing your hair backward as you got shivers. You weren't cold at all. On the contrary, it was comforting. You closed your eyes as you listened to all the plants moving around you. Because of this, you couldn't hear the bushes behind you rustling. Neteyam saw you standing surrounded by the purple glowing plants. 'Beautiful' He thought as he saw your blue skin now shining more like violet. He couldn't just stand there. He had to be next to you in this exact moment.

"Y/n.." Your ears pinned back as you hear your name being called. You look slowly over your shoulder before turning around fully. It was Neteyam standing at the edge of the now colorful plants. He walks closer in silence as you watch his every move. "We haven't talked alone in a while." He stared as he now was in front of you. "I'll leave so you can be alone." You said as you walked past him. "I didn't say I wanted to be alone." He stated as he watched you almost leave. "Why can't we be here together and talk?" You stopped at these words. "Why? You are arranged, and so am I." You started as you turned around and walked closer again. "There's no reason why this is still our secret spot. So why do we still need to do this?" You continued almost whispering as you were now in front of Neteyam. He swallowed visible, taking in what you just said. You slowly shook your head as he didn't say a word. "For old time sake?" He pleaded, looking in your eyes. "Just this once." You sighed.

You looked at the sky as you sat down against a tree. Neteyam sat down next to you. It was silent for a while, nether one of you knowing how to start. You felt a bit uncomfortable sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. It also brought your warmth, which you didn't want to admit you liked. Neteyam looked at you before following your gaze to the night sky. Neteyam started talking about the stars. His father had learned him a lot about them. "And earth should be over there." You shook your head as you looked at Neteyam. "I can't really see which one you're pointing at." Neteyam held onto your waist, making you look at his hand. He pulled you closer to him by your waist, your head now resting between his collar and jaw. You slightly looked at his smiling face.

"Over there!" He pointed into the sky. The glowing plants had grown dark once more, making the stars more visible then before. You could now tell which shining star he was pointing at. He continued talking about all the planets out there. You could feel his body warmth against part of your back, which was laying against his chest. If someone were to catch you like this, they wouldn't think you were just friends. You felt your heartbeat starting to raise. You shifted in Neteyam's arms, hoping he wouldn't notice. But he did notice you shifting around, making him think you weren't comfortable. He didn't want to let go of you. He was enjoying this, and so were you. It was something unspoken, just like the feeling you two had for each other. Yet you both knew you were more than friends. Friends didn't have a secret spot or would lay like this. You two were practically cuddling under the night stars. It was becoming very romantically the longer you stayed like this.

You slowly sat more upright. You felt Neteyam's grip lossen on your waist before fully letting go. Making the warm spot on your waist now getting cold. Neteyam looked at you with a somber expression. He knew what was coming. You would leave, and everything would go on tomorrow as if nothing happened. He couldn't hold back anymore as you stood up in silence. He jumped on his feet before placing his hand on your cheek. "I see you." He announced proudly as your eyes widened at his sudden movements. Deep inside, he was terrified. He was the future olo'eyktan after all, but at this moment, he didn't care. He wanted to be yours and wouldn't let anyone tell him what to do. He was wrong for not going against his parents both times. He should have said no to his arrangement, and he shouldn't have let them get you and Lo'ak arranged.

"This was a mistake." You whispered, not daring to look him in the eyes. He slowly dropped his hand, looking at you confused. Neteyam thought you liked him too! Why else would you have been mad at his arrangement? Or why would you have been sad the day you got arranged to Lo'ak? "I don't understand..." He started. "We shouldn't have been here together. " You trailed off as you started walking away. 'Did you like Lo'ak?' Neteyam started questioning everything he thought he knew. He knew you two had gotten close, but not this close right? It couldn't be, could it?

Neteyam grabbed your arm. You stood still with your back towards Neteyam. "Do you like Lo'ak?" You didn't answer that question. You didn't want to give him the answer. Even if you said yes, you knew he would question it or rather he wouldn't believe you anyways. "Look at me! Do you like him?!" He questioned loudly before clench his jaw. You could feel his grip tightening around your arm. You quickly turned around. "Not yet!" You answered him at the same volume. He looked shocked and confused for a second. You didn't lie, you liked Lo'ak as a friend, but maybe by the time you would mate it would me different. "I don't believe it." He stated softer as he stared into your eyes. He was hoping to find the real answer.

"Lo'ak or me?" Neteyam whispered under his breath. You looked at him confused as you didn't hear him. He slit his hand down your arm holding onto your hand. You looked at your hands together. It made you close your eyes before opening them again and looking into Neteyam's eyes. "If you could choose, who would you pick to be your mate? Lo'ak or me?" You tried letting go of his hand, but he wasn't letting you. "We can't be together. Neteyam we are.." You started before Neteyam interrupted you. "That's bullshit and you know it! Tell me the truth!" He said harshly. You didn't recognize him like this. Where did the soft lovable Neteyam go? You hardly pulled your hand away from his. "You are arranged with Inani! I can't come between the future olo'eyktan and tsahik! Everything has been decided and that's it!" You gave him the truth he needed to hear, not the one you both wanted. It would ruin everything, the clan would be mad at you for interfering. Your parents would be disappointed. You were their only child, you couldn't make them regret trusting you. "There is no question for you to ask and there isn't one for me to answer." You finish slowly as you took a step back.

Neteyam couldn't believe this. He wanted to give you his all, and yet here you were leaving. He didn't care about being the future olo'eyktan. He just wanted to be happy, with you. If being the future olo'eyktan meant that he had to sacrifice his happiness, he didn't want it! You started to walk away. Neteyam was about to grab your arm again, but you stopped him. "Don't make this any harder than it already is." You could barely get it out. He looked at you with saddened eyes. He watched you leave him there alone, with the purple light trail you left behind. 'Make it harder than it already was.' He couldn't get those words out of his head. They had to mean something, didn't they?

[imaginidol]

TXT: you're dancing bachata

Y’all remember when taehyun was caught in a club w a girl a few weeks ago? 💀 ok this is what I fully fantasize about if it were me ☝️LMFAOAOAO so uh choose your txt bias and favorite bachata song and just go along with it? (I was listening to “Eres Mía” if u need a song rec 🤡) i'm never writing one of these again HEHDHEJDJEKSKDKD

You were sitting at one end of the bar of the new Latin-inspired nightclub in town. Tonight was finally the night you had just enough time and energy to check it out with your girlfriends after a long week of work.

You now found yourself alone because your girlfriends had one by one disappeared into the crowd, dancing the night away with new partners they'd managed to successfully reel in. You weren't upset by it either, they deserved to have fun.

You just weren't sure at this point if you even had the energy to stay any longer, as you'd had your fair share of dancing with a few people here and there, some of them being generous enough to even buy you a couple drinks after.

I think I'm calling it a night. Maybe one last drink won't hurt before I leave. I think I'll settle for a water, though.

You pull out your phone to text your girlfriends that you'd be heading out soon with an Uber. Suddenly, the peripheral sight of someone's silhouette catches your attention, and you find yourself accompanied by a stranger at the bar who more than likely is about to pursue your interest in one way or another.

Of all the empty stools here, this guy decides to sit right next to me. Maybe I'll just go find my friends--

You look up to make eye contact with a rather good-looking boy who looks to be fairly about your age. His hair is dyed a dark black color, his bangs just long enough to partially cover his eyes. He smiled down at you, a perfect row of pretty teeth greeting you warmly. He was wearing a dark long-sleeve turtleneck, just tight enough to outline the pleasant build of his upper body. A silver Cuban chain and a longer thin snake chain hung around his neck and over his chest.

Scratch that. Maybe one more dance won't hurt...

"You're alone tonight?" his voice catches you by surprise. It's a bit huskier than you'd expected, at least.

"I'm with my... girlfriends," you say, looking out into the nightclub crowd but failing to catch a glimpse of any of them.

"Care for a drink?" he asks you when the bartender approaches.

"Just a water for now, thank you."

He winks and requests two waters and a shot of tequila.

The following few minutes consist of you learning two things: one, you learn his name and that he's actually touring as a member of a global pop boygroup called TXT, and two, he's really fucking cute.

You were at this point still tipsy from the number of drinks you'd had earlier, but you were certain enough about one thing: You wouldn't leave this damned club until you at least got to either dance or make out at the bar with him.

A familiar Latin tune starts playing on the floor, and you lazily smile and sing out, "I love this song!"

"Let's go, then," he whispers, motioning his head toward the crowd.

You are about to agree, when suddenly you remember the tequila shot on the table.

Maybe I'll just take a bit of this, first.

You smile as you take the shot, leaving at least half of the shot glass full and holding the rest up to his lips. He places his larger hands over yours and tips his head back, finishing the tiny shot and then leading you out onto the floor.

Your world is becoming a blurrier, careless spiral of fun as you let your body relax and synchronize itself into the familiar rhythm of bachata.

Your new partner is steadily following along your movements, your hips inches away from his as you sway each other back and forth ever so smoothly, his hands gently cupped around your waist. You invite his hands farther down your hips, and he loses no time to outline the perfect curves of your natural body between his fingers. He spins you around once, letting your body curl quickly into his, and you manage to catch a scent of the elegant cologne against his chest.

He was good. The best dance partner you'd had in your life, hands down. As you sang out the familiar lyrics of the chorus, you caught him singing along to a few lines as well here and there. He was into it. He was really into it.

He was really into you.

The way your hips swayed naturally alongside his body, the way you looked with your head tilted slightly as you sang with your eyes closed, the short hem of your dress leading up to the enticing curvature of your love handles, your shoulders, your neck, your slight hip-dips, all of you.

Fuck, he looked down at you, I love it all.

The dancing slowed down to a gentle back and forth sway as you trailed your fingers over his chest and around his neck. He took one of your hands in his and kissed your cuticles lightly, making his way up to the back of your palm. You leaned in and let him kiss your forehead, his light pecks making a trail down the side of your face and into your neck. You in return invited yourself to kiss his cheek and slowly made your way to his lips.

Fuck, you thought as you felt his tender lips against yours.

His lips were soft enough that you almost didn't mind the scent of alcohol. He pushed his kisses firmer against yours, his teeth ever so slightly biting against your bottom lip. You felt his tongue make his way to yours, resulting in a sloppy and drunken mess of kisses and love bites decidedly taking over you both.

He pulled back and began what would soon result in a trail of two hickeys grazing down from your neck to your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his darkened hair, leading his other hand to generously outline the curves of your breasts and down your swaying hips. You could feel his hips gently grazing yours, synced together perfectly with the beat of the song playing overhead. He looked really fucking sexy now that he was adapting so well into the foreign dance, the foreign music, the foreign language.

Fuck, he felt so good against you.

Deciding to pick up the steady dance again after a short intimate moment, you let yourself be spun a few more times as you joyfully sang the lyrics out loud. Every so often he’d catch on to a few Spanish words and phrases from the song to sing alongside of you, though you couldn’t make each other’s voices out under the loud, booming music all around you.

Your smiles grew wider as the night progressed, his eyes never leaving the sight of you, your enjoyment, your dancing, your body. His eyes trailed down your curves and back up to your lips. He had a need for you, to have all of you, and you could see it deep within his eyes.

Three songs later, he leaned close to your ear and asked if you’d let him invite you to his hotel room, to which you eagerly accepted.

You catch a glimpse of your girlfriends who are now sitting at the bar together. You wave in their direction as they excitedly wave back and make "Text us!!" motions towards their cellphones, giggling and gawking at the sight of you walking out hand-in-hand with easily the most gorgeous boy in the vicinity.

[harryforvogue]

Part Two | Chapter Twelve: Kiss Me Like You Want To Be Loved

Bellefonte, Pennsylvania

July 1919

In the span of just one week at Aunt Geraldine's home, we've caused quite the ruckus.

Still she shows remorse when we pack the taxi and glance at the massive house once more before turning to hug each person. The train we've decided to catch is an early morning one, too early for little Grace to stand outside fully awake, knuckling her eyes as she waits for her turn to be hugged. I hug her tightly and tell her I'll see her soon and we can read all the books we can. She smiles at the idea, and Geraldine sends her back inside to go back to sleep. I nod appreciatively at Geraldine and let myself be engulfed in a hug.

During this week Geraldine has become a friend to me, despite her lack of relation to me. Her hug for Harry is shorter and more cautious, but loving nonetheless.

Regardless of the pleasantries, I feel it's my duty to step forward and apologize for the mess Harry and I have made during our stay.

"If we've disrupted you in any way," I insist, holding Jared's hands, speaking firmly. "I'm sorry. I couldn't have predicted any of it."

Jared gives me a nonchalant shrug and tells me that it's the price of marriage, but Geraldine is kinder yet more strict when she speaks to me, holding my elbow tightly and making sure I hear every syllable of her words.

"Don't you ever apologize for a man," she tells me lowly, furrowing her brows. "You are too good for him."

I shake my head and nervously check over my shoulder to see if Harry's listening or within earshot. "I rather think we're both pathetic enough for each other."

Geraldine smiles, holding a hand to my cheek. The gesture suddenly, and quite violently, reminds me of my mother, who used to hold my face like this when I'd be crying to wipe the moisture immediately after it fell from my eyes. She never tolerated weakness in the house, though on some events, weakness was the only friend I had.

"You are too good for him," Geraldine repeats, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "Be safe. Let us know you've arrived in Newport safely."

We've decided Newport is the next destination. Harry's decided it. He's told me that men in his company have raved about how beautiful of a place it is and how he must go to see it himself. It's on the East Coast and only a day's ride by train.

"I will," I promise, waving goodbye to them as I walk to the car. I sit beside Harry and wait for the rumble of the car against the pavement to remind me how far I'll be from the family soon.

Harry notices a few minutes later, cautiously peering at me. His curls are tucked behind his ears, and the way he ducks his head allows a strand to fall into his eyes. He messily pushes it away when he glances at me, waiting a moment to gauge my expression before speaking. This is progress, I think, though it's not anything more than an inch in the direction of our goal.

"Are you alright?" he asks finally.

I crack the window open a bit and nod, glancing out. "I'm going to miss them."

"Oh," Harry says, agreeing. "Me too. They're a lovely family. I do hope to visit them again soon before winter."

"Geraldine reminds me of my mother."

"Do you miss your mother?"

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. "A lot." I look back at him and study his now distant eyes. "Don't you miss yours?"

"Of course I do." He stares out the window behind me, his eyes oddly matching the color of the sky. "I miss her all the time."

"She should visit us."

His gaze flickers to mine as he raises a brow. "I couldn't convince her to leave London. I doubt she'd want to be here. You know how she is."

"Still," I say. "It's a thought."

"Maybe soon." He cracks his knuckles. "I can't wait to sleep on the train."

"You didn't sleep well?"

"No," he admits, rubbing his eyes. "Barely slept. I've got a migraine."

I turn my body towards him. "Did you have a nightmare?"

He pulls his palms away from his face and sends me a wry smile. "Yes, I did have a nightmare."

"Will you tell me about it?"

Uncertainty touches his eyes as he focuses back on the scenery outside the window as we just pass over the recent town and enter a larger field, the breeze from the cracked window blowing his hair around.

After a tense silence and inner battle, he nods once. "Alright. I'll tell you on the train." He seems to regret the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. "But you won't do anything except stay quiet and listen. I don't want commentary."

I cross my arms. "I want to comment."

"Well, I won't let you."

"Is it about France?"

"Yes."

"How about this: for every bad memory you tell me of France, I'll tell you a good one."

"Annaliese," he says dryly, "I mean no offense, but there is nothing you can say that will make me think France is a nice place. I appreciate the thought, but it's going to be useless."

I mull this over in my head, eventually agreeing to it. "You're right. I want you to be comfortable."

His glassy eyes soften before they glance back out his own window. This is progress, I think happily. The kind of progress we need.

***

"Who will we be staying with?" I ask Harry as I sit in my seat on the train, taking my hat off.

Harry says, "We're staying at a hotel. I do know some people in Newport, but I doubt I'll go to see them. It's best if you sleep now."

"Are they the friends from the army?"

Harry nods. "Though, I wouldn't call them my friends. Friends stay in touch and none of us have decided to do that."

I stretch my legs the best I can, slumping against my seat. The thought of his promise brightens me, and I eagerly turn to face him. "Okay well, start talking, Styles. Tell me what your dream was about."

Harry, alarmed at my eagerness, raises his brows. "Annaliese, it's not one of those cute bizarre dreams."

"I'm not excited to hear your misery, Harry," I assured him gently. "I'm excited to hear you talk. I want to know."

A part of this desire comes from wanting to fill in the blanks of what happened during the time I was absent from his life. I want to know it all: his early mornings, his training, how he felt on the trains, how he felt having a dry laugh with his company. I want to know all the happiness but also the pain. If the pain outweighs the happiness, I will be more than willing to oblige and listen to his struggles.

Harry seems conflicted, unsure where to start, but finally, he gathers his thoughts and begins in a deep voice just as the doors of the train cars close and it jerks to a start. I listen intently.

"I can't sleep on the mattress very well," Harry admits, looking out the window, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm too used to the hard ground of the trenches or the cots in the infirmary. The night you accidentally came to my room was the last time I tried to sleep on the bed. It's quite uncomfortable for me. I laid down on the floor with my blanket over me, just thinking for a bit." Harry's ears go pink. "I have to do that before I sleep, to tire my brain out. If not, my body will be tired, but not my mind, and it's my mind that puts me to sleep, isn't it?

"I had settled in and shut my eyes after thinking a bit. Most of my dreams occur after I've already woken up through the night, but this time I had the dream as soon as I drifted off. It was quite bearable at first, just memories of France and my company, but it soon became violent."

He pauses and I think he's finished, but then he picks back up.

"I didn't think you could hear things in your dream. But it's the most frightening part, I think. Hearing things you can't see, wondering how your brain is able to come up and mimic those sounds when you've buried them in your everyday life. I don't hear those noises anymore, but for some reason, my brain likes to remind me of them, to make sure I don't forget them.

"I heard," he says, frowning, "the shells." He pauses once more, clearly trying to filter as best as he can. "See, the thing with shells," he continues, glancing at me, "is that you can tell what kind they are and how close they are as you spend more time at the Front. And these particular ones in my dream, they were both loud and shrill."

He doesn't need to fill me in for me to figure out what that means.

He opens his mouth and then closes it. "That's it. That's my dream. I was at the Front and I heard shells, increasing in both volume and quantity until I was suddenly awake," he concludes quickly.

That isn't the full story, but I remain patient. I wait a minute before speaking. "Did you get hurt?"

Harry raises his eyebrows. "In my dream or during the war?"

"During the war," I clarify. "You mentioned the cots in the infirmary."

"Oh. Well, yes. I did, a few times, but it was nothing more than a few grazes." His expression turns sour. "I did, however, have an unfortunate incident with a broken shrapnel."

"Will you tell me about it?" My eyes wander to the cut that runs through his eyebrow, knowing the scar was the result of that particular incident.

He glances down at me for seemingly eternity, before shaking his head. "Not today." He looks ashamed.

My heart aches with love for him and the steps he's taking. He's wiping his palms anxiously on his trousers, fingers trembling. Impulsively, I reach over and touch his hand in an attempt to stop the quivers. He freezes. I hold my breath as I pick up his hand and turn it over, palm facing upwards. I study the long digits of his hands, slowly tracing the lines separating his fingers into thirds.

I pick up his hand again and put it in my lap, encasing it with both of my hands.

His green eyes are stormy, his tense body conflicted. I trace the veins on his wrist as I wait for him to either relax or pull away. His eyes burn into mine, searching through them for some answer that I hope I'm able to provide him.

When he makes no move, simply watching me, I push myself closer to him, begging him in my head to not move away. My shoulder brushes against his, then my ankle, then my knee, and finally my thigh. The warmth of his body pressed to mine makes me smile reassuringly at him, reminding him that it's alright with my expression. He doesn't move or shift or even breathe, still as if he's being hunted, eyes firmly glued to mine.

"I'm sorry," I whisper sincerely. "I wish I could fix it all for you, my love."

I crane my neck slowly and focus on his mouth. His pink, wide mouth that's always thinned or in a firm line. Keeping a tight grip on his hand to ground him, I carefully look at his dark eyes with a look that reads "Stop me now" before I press my lips to his, watching his eyes flutter shut just in time.

To say I've missed his kisses is a grave understatement. It's a brief, chaste kiss, but it's not one sided. I've shared enough kisses with Harry to know that. Harry tilts his head and kisses me back slowly, his pulse quickening under my fingertips. Slowly, I pull back and quickly check his reaction. His eyes open and he stares at me for a minute, jaw tight with either regret or interest.

I never find out which one it is as the train conductor comes by to ask for tickets. Harry shows him both of ours. He doesn't say anything, but he leaves his hand in my grasp, giving my fingers the softest squeeze. His frame is more relaxed, breathing heavy, but that's all.

The storm passes and he finally glances at me and whispers, "You should get some sleep. We've got a long ride."

I nod, feeling like a teenager who has just got her first kiss with her high school crush. Oddly enough, the fluttering in my stomach feels a lot like how it did during my first kiss with Harry, on that hot summer evening in London, exactly 3 years ago.

***

When I wake up, Harry's still gazing out the window. He's called for lunch and the smell wakes me like an animal out of hibernation. Harry gives me a soft smile and lets my hand slip from his when I begin eating.

When talking with him, I must listen closely to his words. I lean in, listening to him intently, watching his every movement on his face to grab onto his softening eyes -- a clue I've read to look into when inspecting a man's face, particularly a man you're in love with -- and his fluctuating voice as it increases when talking about something exciting and decreasing when making observations of the city we're passing.

Unhappy with the lack of findings, I sit back in my seat across from him and just listen instead, glancing out the window as he points out what exactly we are passing. Currently still in northern Pennsylvania, it's all just open fields. It's quite a romantic scene, I think to myself, the skies littered with a few white clouds acting as chaperones over the cattle and horses that graze in the fields. Occasionally, we'll see farmers herded animals, but for the most part, it's free will. I find myself longing to be in those fields, frolicking with my husband beside me, asking me not to go too far or he'll miss me.

The husband in question sits in front of me, talking about labor unions in Pennsylvania. When I glance back at him, his eyes are wide with excitement over his own findings in the library and book ship in Bellefonte. I listen halfheartedly for a moment before returning my full attention to his voice, finding serenity in the low rumbling tone rather than the words they're making. His eyelashes flutter when the sun hits his eyes squarely, his green eyes becoming paler like a cat's eyes. Unlike a cat's pupil, however, he doesn't recoil and become slits. They stay wide and excited as he continues speaking, incorporating his hands in his speech to aid him as well.

When he finishes his speech, glancing at me a bit shyly, the tips of his ears are pink, and I highly doubt it's due to the heat from the sun and lack of curtains on the window.

"That's all," he concludes with a slight cough. "That's all there is until 1917. Not quite sure what happened with the men all away when American troops began migrating to the east for the war. I don't think there would be strikes with no men."

I put my chin in my palm and tilt my head. "Can't women go on strike?"

He raises his eyebrows, most likely surprised I was even listening. "Well, yes," he says, quite mildly, "but there isn't a reason to go on strike in dire situations. Ends must be met, right? Despite living conditions. If the price of living is high, though it doesn't seem like it was during the war in America particularly, it doesn't correlate with the wage of the workers. That is," he continues, "the reason for most strikes. The lack of good pay. But at this point, desperate times called for desperate measures. The American government, like the British government, if you remember, became strictly war manufacturers. Someone has to do the work, regardless of how much they're getting paid."

"What if," I say, "the woman refused to work?"

"That's entirely possible and completely up to the woman. If she were single during the war, I doubt her working a man's job bothered her. Independent women, I find, are far more ambitious than married men," he adds.

"Really? You believe that?"

"Yes. I see that dynamic between us."

"Between us?" I hum, running a knuckle over my lips to hide a smile. "You think I'm more ambitious than you?"

"Yes," he answers confidently. "Do you disagree?"

"Not exactly. I'd argue we're both quite ambitious. In different ways. For example, while I may be adamant about my work and creating a living for us, you're more ambitious about traveling and researching history."

"Traveling," he says with a twitch of his lips, "isn't ambitious."

"I'd argue that it is."

"Why?"

"It takes guts to go to a foreign country and expect to just blend in."

He looks thoughtfully out the window. "Right, but it wasn't just me who blended it. I believe it was harder for you to settle in, with English being your second language and the Americans so... American."

"It was your idea to come here."

"It was yours. I merely agreed. And you've been here longer than me."

"You've been in a more foreign country for longer than me. While France is my home country, it's unknown territory for you."

"Was," he interjects, glancing back at him. "It was unknown territory."

Leveling with him, I reply, "It still is."

He shakes his head slightly and links his fingers together, rubbing over his silver wedding band. "I think your definition of France and mine are wildly different, Annaliese."

This is true, but a part of me strives to continue educating him in the country that I've loved even during the years I've been away from it, to remind him what exactly beauty is. The appeal of the country shouldn't have been the proximity to the enemy on the eastern front, but the people, the language, the arts, and the communities built into the villages for many generations. It is the true meaning of what it means to be French, yet when he closes his eyes, he imagines machine guns, artillery, and scarlet blood.

"I understand," he continues, unbuttoning his jacket and removing it swiftly from his torso, "that we're quite different in our definitions, however, I can assure you that I have no plans on changing my mind about it." He proceeds to undo his collar and open it, revealing a flushed pink color, his chest rising and falling a little easier. He rests his head back and sighs deeply. "And I have no intention of you converting to my side."

"Well that's a relief."

He smiles a bit, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, well, you stay in your area, and I'll stay in mine."

"Because if you tell me about your experiences in France, I will not think of France as just yards and yards of trenches. I will still see it as the beautiful country I know it as because I know that the war is over and well in the past--"

"Miles," he softly interjects. "Miles and miles of trenches."

I pause, quickly assessing the atmosphere between us. His eyes have become a little glassy and unfocused as I continue to speak, so I catch my breath and stop talking.

"Nothing will change your mind," he says finally, resting his temple on the window, "and nothing will change mine. Seems like we're in agreement." The light streaming past the glass creates a small rainbow against the bridge of his nose.

Dropping the subject, I nod. "Very well. Nobody's won this round."

"Round?" he says, distracted."Are you keeping score?"

"I'll be damned if I let you win."

"I've already let you win a few times."

"Stop letting me. I want to win fair and square. I'd be more than happy to admit when I'm wrong and apologize when needed."

He doesn't reply, closing his eyes instead, offering me nothing more than an amused expression and a shake of his head.

A few moments pass in silence until he opens his eyes again and watches me. I feel his gaze on me, and to give him peace, I don't startle him by glancing back immediately. "Hey," he finally says softly. He bumps his knee against mine gently. "I don't want you to ever apologize to me. Please don't again."

I bump his knee back. "I don't like when you apologize either."

"Then let's make a deal. Nobody apologizes."

I stick my hand out and look him in the eyes. "Sounds good."

He hesitates for a moment, but finally places his hand in mine, giving it a firm shake. When he goes back to sleep, I hold that hand in my lap, running my thumb over my palm. I watch him sleep as his protector.

***

Summer is, arguably, the best season. Spring, while a predecessor of summer, often has cold fronts and the rain is icy, dark clouds hovering over our heads. Rather less in New York, but the gloomy weather stays as if we were still in London, now just surrounded by skyscrapers instead of fancy buildings with ancient architecture. London has, to me, quite a Gothic touch, and perhaps the gloominess of the weather fits its personality, however, spring in the East Coast is vastly different, thankfully. As we still find ourselves in the East Coast, the state we are in now, traveling fast towards our destination has no change. I'm unsure where exactly we are, I think, looking out the window, finding nothing more than a thick post rain fog that blocks my immediate view.

Summer brings rain, and sometimes it is frigid and cold, but when you're inside, staring at the soft rain dropping onto the windows and eventually disappearing into the atmosphere, you can't help but grow an appreciation for it. The air is humid and thick, barely breathable, and the rain a cold contrast against the skin to ease the tightness caused from the lack of air. The rain holds oxygen and solace.

Harry's slept through the rain, but he's rising now, his eyebrows pinched together with discomfort. Upon opening his eyes, he sees me and sits up a little straighter, rolling his tight neck.

"It rained?" he murmurs, knuckling an eye. My heart swells with love, wanting nothing more but to cradle him to my chest and tell him that yes, it rained, but I didn't let him get wet.

"Yes," I reply instead, smiling. "It looks lovely, doesn't it?"

Harry's unfocused eyes drowsily glance at the window. "I can't see anything."

"That's the best part."

He slants me a look and hums.

"I think we're almost here. I overhead the conductor a few minutes ago. I wish we could get something to eat," I say.

He's still rubbing his eyes. "I'm starving."

"What's the plan for Newport, then?"

"Still the same." He stands up and stretches his long legs, suddenly aware of the cold, bending down to pick up his jacket and rest it on his shoulders for warmth. "I'm going to sleep so well tonight."

Taking the topic of conversation to be a little cheeky, I say, "Sure! I'll keep you warm."

He sits down again and glances out the window, fog still blocking his view. "You're quite funny."

"Fine, I'll take the floor then."

He ignores me, running his finger over the foggy glass. "We can get two rooms."

"I will hurt you if you pay for separate rooms just to sleep, Harry," I say seriously. "Hey." I deliver a small kick to his ankle. "Stop thinking about it."

To my surprise, a slight smile plays on his lips, a mild one. "I'm kidding."

"I don't think you are," I reply suspiciously.

"If there's a couch, I'll sleep there."

"Or, I can make a wall between us when we sleep and we'll stay on our sides, hands to ourselves."

He rests his head back and looks at me through his dark eyelashes, raising an interested eyebrow. "You really want this," he states, not quite a question.

"Well, most wives would like to lay with their husbands."

"Most husbands would like to lay with their wives," he answers with a strained undertone. "And I can assure you that I am no exception."

There's a less reasonable side of me that wants to lean in and argue with him that all his actions and words prior to his conversation have suggested otherwise, that he would rather lay on the cold, hard floor than lay on a comfortable mattress besides his wife. His face gives him away, surprisingly, since he's been so hard to read recently, but this is clear on his face, in his transparent eyes with which he holds eye contact with me, waiting for his words to settle into my head. They no longer hover, settling finally. And then it hits me, quite violently, that the issue isn't laying besides a body, but what happens when temptation gets the best of him.

I feel my face growing hotter, and he seems to relax when he sees the realization on my face.

"You know I would not mind that," I say firmly, hating the blush on my face.

"Maybe not, but I would. You have always known how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you."

I do know. I think about it all the time. "Is it so bad to want to lay with your wife?"

"Of course not," he says, peering distractedly out the window. "But it's not the right time. I've told you that it's not you."

"Well, why does the thought of sleeping with me displease you so?"

"Displease me? It doesn't. It's quite attractive, but it's...it's..." He breaks off, slightly flushed. "Never mind."

Eagerly, I continue to convert before it's lost. "I want to know. What is it?"

"You'll laugh."

"I won't!" To be truthful, there's a chance that I might.

He starts, pauses once to inspect my unmoving face, and then sighs, continuing once more. "I treat it like a reward. For when I'm better."

"For when you're better?"

"Yes. I'll have you as a reward for when I'm healthy again."

Perhaps this won't be as funny as I anticipated. "Are you sure that's such a good idea? I'm not too excited by it."

"You don't think it's odd? Or creepy? That I use you as an incentive?"

I smile, nudging his knee with mine. "I don't think it's odd or creepy, but it might be a little useless. I don't think I can last as long as your recovery seems to be taking."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Are you making fun of my illness?"

"Well." I shrug. "You are testing my patience. If you think I'm waiting that long, you're wrong. What if mine stops working?"

Wide eyes blink at me. "Stops working?"

"Yes," I say seriously."

"Wow. Your priorities are not in order."

"Think about it."

Harry smiles. "I have a feeling you'll hurt me if I tell you I expect you to wait for me."

"I'll wait because I have no other outlet for relieving my pain."

"Pain," he repeats, eyebrows raised.

"And I'll wait, but I won't be happy about it."

"I don't expect you to be happy about it."

"Harry," I say, squeezing his hand. "Don't worry about whether I'll be happy or not. I'm completely kidding. If it's helping you, then it's okay. I'm here for you, remember? The point is to make you comfortable. Don't worry," I add. "It won't suddenly become inoperable."

Harry's hidden dimples suddenly deepen when he turns his head to look at me.

"I know that, Annaliese," he says, flicking my forehead. "Quit saying that. I don't like the image in my head."

[whoiskt]

Grad School Q4 - Week 1

All my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe I'll bring this back for Friday summaries.

Here's a Lloyd sketch that might become part of my business card. Working on that right now among many things!

I wasn't really ready to go back to school but rarely in my life have I ever felt that after summer break. This quarter is all required classes, which isn't the most fun but I'll get by okay. Plus, all the classes are pretty much back to back, which gives me such flashbacks to high school, since I'm just in the one building all day.

Anyways, I'm currently kind of nervous because to complete my MFA by the end of summer 2025, I need to go up for review this quarter. But it's required that I have taken 45 credit hours of 700 level courses. Unfortunately, 10 of my 45 credit hours are 500 level courses, so I am technically not eligible. But, since the thesis class is only taught once a year in the winter quarter, missing this milestone would mean pushing my graduation to 2026, which I cannot do, not spiritually and definitely not financially. So, I am asking for an exception to be made, and that is TBD. Because I have a lot riding on this, so I am really very nervous for the answer. We shall see.

I guess worst comes to worst I can switch to an MA. Let's be real... I am not professor material, anyways.

But to get to my week in review: My first class is a writing class. I got excited because I imagined I could do a Lloyd Void spin-off as my main project for this class, one that is geocentric in the sense it would follow my character Earth as a slice of life comedy before the events of LV. However, for this class we were sorted into short groups, and they prefered my sailors and music idea (the one I have been writing as a movie) and I might choose that. I am stuck with the ending, and maybe working that out in the class (since the class is only writing a measly 20 pages) is a fine use of my time as well.

My second class is a studio, and I am making LLOYD VOID KEY ART for the PITCH! This honestly is the most scary thing, because I have to make 9 whole completed illustrations in 10 weeks, and I think my current record for completed illustrations in 10 weeks is something like 4, with some VERY lazy bgs, which I am not allowed here, so wish me luck.

Finally, my last class is something something coloring? Honestly not fully sure but day 1 we had A LOT of hw already due for class 2. (we also had to color a page of a comic but I am not showing that here)

The artist is Lois van Baarle. THIS IS NOT MY ARTWORK I JUST COLORED IT:

Unexpectedly my prof said, "This is very well-done, perhaps even once of the best versions of this I've ever seen." I was shook. I have been studying color all year, trying to get better, but I never expected such a compliment.

I want to get better at reflective lighting still but I have definitely been feeling more confident in palette choices, at least.

Anyways, that's all for now, definitely more artwork to show you next week, bye!

[miradanii]

MTMTE/LOST LIGHT First Time Read

Short time text text because it's 4am. I had to finish it...The Lost Light was short and I had 4 chapters left. Had heat exhaustion twice in one week, lack of sleep for days but I couldn't help but finish just so I can go back and reread parts I didn't understand/have an excuse to finally look up this comic without massive spoilers.

I had never read a lot of long ass comics. But wow have I just had a wild ride. I think it took maybe two and half months to read this? Maybe more. One of the few things I had difficulty with reading but pushed through because how captivated I was with the story and its insane cast of characters. I have tons of new favorites I will now create powerpoint slides to present to my friends now on how much I've enjoyed my time with them.

I am so thankful for the internet due to these comics being out of print. And my past self just happening to own volume 1 of Dark Cybertron and never donating it despite not fully understanding what it was until this year. I hope these comics get reprinted one day but I guess for now I'll hunt down copies because I think I want to do these comics a service by having physical copies...

Anyways I 100% recommend this series as a first time reader for reading any Transformers comics. It was pretty difficult at first but I got the hang of it for a while. Not sure it helped that I was already familiar with a lot of the characters already like Rodimus, Megatron, ect. ect. ect.

Here's a link to a reddit post about the order for reading MTMTE/Lost Light. Though, when you come to Dark Cybertron it comes it two volumes so you don't have to switch between MTMTE and RID issues. Like I said I have the physical copy for Volume 1 of Dark Cybertron but mistakenly went back to reading MTMTE and had not realized the issues were alternating.

The reddit post mentions it but I was dumb and didn't fully read it. I just kinda kept going to the next page with a jarring lack of information thinking a lot of stuff was happening off screen.

Immediate ending spoiler nonsense thoughts down below:

Yeah the ending note made me tear up. I am in the mist of consuming a lot of Transformers Media before Transformers One comes out...I had decided to read MTMTE because I think I wanted something that I felt when I watched Transformers Prime. More detail in the characters. I think I flipped when I found out Ratchet who I've seen 3 iterations of on tv has a love interest. Megatron and Optimus have like....just...yeah it's gay. Unhinge divorced but never married gay interactions, then there's more gay, then idk I just started learning more and more about it all from just doing research all for a powerpoint party I hosted and because it was my birthday I was able to go up to 45 minutes due to birthday privileges.

Like I can go from liking Megop to MiniMegs? Is that the ship name? Idk it's almost 5am. But it's not even about pairings at this point, I'm going on an insane fucking adventure. I'm reading this shit in a King's Hawaiian parking lot now being part of my core memory. Actually that part does have a pairing. I'm seeing this:

I went through emotional toil in a restaurant parking lot with my friends to see and not understand the shock I'm having after I get out of the car.

I understand the flowers. That's a fuck ton.

I technically got spoiled about who Rung actually was but it had been so long I actually was STILL shocked when I found out at around 3am. Though...I didn't know he fucking died. Guys he fucking died. I think he came back or its one of his children idk man he fucking died and there's a character with a very similar color palette to him in Cyberverse.

On a random note I guess they weren't that close but Im surprised there wasn't a conversation between Nautica and Chromedome about forgetting Skids in a sense of grief. And it just kinda happened to her...Though I am glad she was still prioritizing Velocity.

Okay so Terminus just dies off screen and Megatron never finds out that he gave him the wrong location?? Damn. But I guess it was no hard feelings when he reunited with the Lost Light so that's all fine and dandy.

This is the one of the few stories where I am proud bullshit with no further explanation reunites tragic lovers. This series lets me live. I mean there was a very simple explanation why Tailgate didn't fade away from Cyclonus' arms but when that moment happened I was like yeah fuck it let them be happy. Of course Kaput was gonna go Kaput but rip can't believe it had to get Tailgate involved.

Ah Anode and Lug were cute! I think it took me a bit to warm up to them but I think I start to like characters when they start having fun dynamics with the rest of the cast. Anode and Swerve pranking each other on the shrinking ship with all hell breaking loose with the rest of the Rod Squad is just...yeah that whole chapter was paced so well.

Okay Whirl didn't just win me over, he snatched my heart and made a clock out of it with his lil pincers. I love this fella. He's such a homie. Top 10 in my list of characters with best character growth.

Okay okay...so the ending right...I knew Ratchet died in the end. Or a portion of the end. But it still caught me off guard. Not to mention I thought Tailgate had died in the end too. I mean it was technically true. But still...ouch. I saw the panel with the Rodimus Star and thought it was so dumb. Had no idea that it was so much more impactful than I thought. Legit before knowing the context I thought Rodimus didn't want to give his most inner energon and gave a Rodimus Star instead. Oops.

I've seen panels of Minimus and Megatron interact and had no idea that it was from the final issue.

5:31am

This series has given me a small portion of joy I couldn't feel for the past few months without it. A boost in creativity and expanding a range of wow that's a lot of fucking insane shit that can happen and still be fun huh?

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Lantern

The luggage had a broken handle, and a squeaky wheel, but it trailed faithfully along nevertheless. I walked up the maroon carpet, my heart doing a jig of joy. The entrance was massive, easily wide enough to fit 20 people walking abreast. Breathing in the fresh sea air, I wished the moment would stretch on forever, pregnant with anticipation.

Part of me wanted to run inside, but such a great moment had to be savoured. I took a deep breath and stepped into the top floor of the world's greatest cruise ship.

The overwhelming beauty of it stole my breath away, leaving me gaping in awe. Lush carpet gave way to golden oak, smooth panels that were polished till they shone. The air was like a spring morning, crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the broiling heat outside. There was a viewpoint that allowed me to look over the entire ship and I hurried over to it. 

Flowers, cardinals and water lilies and everything in between, sprouted up along an artificial pond on the ground floor, which was filled with koi and goldfish, gulping down fish food like they were starved for weeks. A pair of cat statues, made of bronze, guarded a small bridge that crossed the pond. Small shops lined the sides of the foyer, selling sweets, travel essentials, and a kaleidoscope of knick-knacks.

I took it in, inhaling the faintly floral scent deeply. My mother, weathered and worn away, stood by my side. A contented smile spread over her face, returning the precious years stress had stolen from her. She was such a busy woman, working an office job whilst taking care of me as a single mother, and it took its toll on her. It gladdened me to see her without her typical harried expression.

"I'll take the bags and go to our room. Do you want to come along, or are you going to explore the area?" My mother asked, still looking down at the pond in amazement. 

"Explore, of course! I'll try to find somewhere we can eat at for dinner," I exclaimed, fishing out a map.

The bright colors of the directory seemed to pop out of the paper, indicating a myraid of attractions, from cafes to the casino. However, I found my eyes drawn to a small spa, lurking in a corner of the map. 

'The Cats' Spa'. It was just next to the pond, so it had to be referencing the statues. I had plenty of time, I reasoned. Why not check it out? Maybe my mother and I could go after dinner. 

I strolled along what could arguably be called alleyways, the little corridors between shops. The place was an entire mini-city, I discovered. There were liquor shops carefully concealed behind the tacky souvenir stores, even a couple of cigarette dispensers. Weirdly enough, the intersections of the alleyways seemed to form a maze, one too complicated for me to fully follow. I merely tracked the miniscule instructions on the map, sticking dutifully to the path along the ever-widening floorboards.

 After a while, there was nothing but the painted walls, a faded white, and the wooden floorboards were so wide I could have dropped my phone in the cracks. The air was stale smelled of mildew, a far cry from the pristine entrance. I began suspecting that I might have made a wrong turn somewhere, and had half a mind to turn back.

That was when I saw it. A small lantern, floating at the periphery of my vision. I turned to face it, but it continued moving. Was I hallucinating? I willed it to stop moving, and turned again.

There it was, the lantern. It was ghostly and translucent, but it was there nevertheless. Red and gold, with beautifully calligraphed characters painted onto its paper surface. I reached out for it, not sensing any danger. All I felt was a vague sense of curiosity, a need to look closer at this strange thing.

I reached out to touch it, and my fingers brushed against its surface. It did not feel like paper. It felt like cool, thinner than paper, silken. Before I could inspect it further, it disappeared in a small flash of light. "Wait!" I cried.

It appeared a short distance away, dancing in the air invitingly. Was... Was it mocking me? It certainly felt that way, like I was playing a game of tag with it. I chased after it, trying to grasp it successfully. Once more, it disappeared, and I felt a touch of frustration.

As though teasing me, it reappeared just out of reach. This time, I was aware of its ploy, and relaxed, readying myself to pounce.

I launched myself at the lantern, only for it to disappear on me. Stumbling to my feet, I looked up to see the darn thing hovering just in front of my face.

I feigned disinterest, snubbing it and its mischievous taunting. Turning away, I pretended to head the other direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see it following me, trying to attract my attention. It bobbed around eagerly, popping right next to me then darting back. I waited for it to lower its guard, keeping a careful eye on it.

When it got too close, I struck. Spinning around, I snatched at the lantern with a grabbing motion, trapping it as it tried to retreated. "Gotcha!" 

To my intense irritation, it vanished before I could get a proper grip on its slippery surface. It emerged just in front of me, and I abandoned all strategy.

We played a frenzied game of chase, with me grasping wildly at the air, and the lantern dodging my attacks, flitting left and right. My breathing became labored as I struggled to catch the creature, adrenaline rushing through my veins. The thrill of the chase was wonderful, yet so maddening.

Suddenly the lantern stopped and made an upward turn. I stared up in horror as it fled into the sky, where I could not follow. "Hey! That's cheating," I told it angrily. In response, it gave a jerk forward, indicating the path ahead, before disappearing for a final time.

I looked forward, and realized that there was a change in my environment. The alley widened, and the floorboards, which were wide and faded, had left in favor of some stone paving. Some sense of custom called me to take my sneakers off, and I held them in one hand as I walked in the direction the lantern had indicated.

It appeared that lantern had led me to the spa, possibly deliberately. I emerged from the maze of alleyways to find myself right in the middle of a picturesque Japanese onsen. Small stone-lined foot baths were placed strategically in front of a balcony, where I could see the pond. The view was different here, though, and I realized I was wrong about the fish. They were not koi or goldfish. They were little paper fish, painstakingly cut and glued together.

"Wait, what?!" The thought, which had attempted to sneak past my consciousness undetected, got apprehended by border control. Paper fish could not be living, they were made of paper! Besides, paper was not waterproof. It would wrinkle in an instant. Despite the logical fallacies, the fish swam cheerfully in the pool, a slap in the face to all sense.

I spluttered in confusion like a fish out of water, trying to form coherent thoughts to combat this sudden excursion from reality. Sadly, reality did not give me a chance to recollect myself. A massive paper fish, closer to a whale than a fish, emerged from the water. The pond seemed to expand itself to fit the fish, until it was big enough to contain the fish on one side of the bridge. It leaped out of the pond, trailing water behind it, and I could not take my eyes off it even if I wanted to. 

The fluid grace of it made it seem like a part of the water itself, a water-fish rather than a paper one. Throwing itself over the bridge, it seemed to lightly graze the tip of the fence, and I fretted for its safety. Paper, especially wet paper, was so fragile. Would it tear?

My fears were unfounded, it seemed. The fish landed in the water with a magnificent splash, so large that I felt it from a few stories away. Water hung in the air as time seemed to slow a crawl, and the fish descended into darkness, leaving the pond to close up behind it. I leaned over to watch it go, feeling a massive sense of loss, as strong as the sheer fascination of seeing something so spectacular.

"I told you the kid would come here, Xena," a masculine voice behind me said, triumphant and smug. I turned around to face him.

It was one of the cat statues, sleek with dark metal worn to a golden color at the top of its head, standing on its back legs. When it saw my shock, it flicked its grey tail in glee and walked over. "You just watched a giant paper fish jump out of the water. Why are you staring at me? I'm just a talking statue," he purred, seemingly grinning at me.

"I- errrrrr..." I desperately tried to stammer out a response, but it seemed the cat had truly gotten my tongue. He let out a huff of amusement.

"Heavens sakes, Bobo! Why are you harassing the poor child? We get so few visitors, we should treat them all well!" A second, female, cat, fluffier than the first, walked over gracefully on four legs, then stood up on two legs. She peered at me closely. "What's your name, little girl?"

I stared at her for a long moment. "Leah," I said, practically spitting the word out in my haste to reply. The two cat statues... Were they the same ones as those at the pond? I turned back to scrutinize the statues, only to find empty pedestals in their place. Blinking in surprise, I rubbed my eyes.

"Yes, we are the cat statues, kid. Get over it," the male cat said, sniffing contemptuously at me. 

"Ignore him," the female one told me amiably, in a vaguely British accent. "He's a bit aloof with strangers. I'm Xena, and my brother is Bobo. Together, we run the Cat's spa!" She handed me a little pamphlet, produced out of thin air. 

I accepted it, too interested in its contents to be surprised. It proudly displayed the front of the spa, a two-story building with a hot spring in the back, along with a short list of the many services the spa offered, from the typing massages to tea ceremonies. I scanned the list and looked up.

The cats were watching me expectantly, and I realized that they were waiting for me to tell them what I wanted. "Errr... I just want to use the hot springs," I told them, feeling awfully self conscious. 

Xena's face lit up with joy. "Excellent choice, kiddo! I'll take you there immediately, and prepare some snacks for when you're done. It's been so long since we last had a customer," she exclaimed.

I could see why. Most people would respond terribly to being served by a pair of talking cat statues, and even worse to a magical pond full of paper fish. Her mind was still reeling from it. Surely this was a practical joke? An Easter egg hidden by the architects of the ship, meant to surprise tourists? Yet... It was all too real. That fish, the cats, they were alive. I felt it in my bones.

Following Xena through the entrance, I walked into a beautiful room with tatami flooring. I could smell the steam beyond, as well as a faint whiff of incense. The room was minimalistic, with shoji doors to complementary the Japanese aesthetic, in addition to a kotatsu table that held a bonsai tree. Did statues need to eat or drink? It appeared so, according  to the two piping hot cups of tea on the table.

Xena led me through a koi-patterned curtain into a lovely changing room, with dark floor tiles and several shelves, one of which held a small stack of pristine white towels. There was a shoe rack where I could finally relieve my fingers of the strain of holding on to my sneakers, and a set of changing rooms, which were rather pointless as I was the only one around. I quickly dropped off my travel pack, stripped, hanging my clothes onto the proffered hangar, wrapped a towel about me, and stepped into the hot spring.

The first thing that hit me was the steam, which fogged up my glasses. I took them off and hurried back inside, placing them along with my pack. When I got back in, I could finally appreciate the beautiful (if slightly blurry) serenity of the hot spring. Flower scrubs and bamboo grew along the outskirts of the spring, forming a natural fence against any possible peeping toms, while adding on to the tranquility of the space. The heat emanating from the hot spring was a wonderful foil to the crisp air, and I felt myself relaxing.

I took a small step into the water, feeling the perfect warmth lap at my toes. Bit by bit, I moved into the water until I was up to my neck in water, with my hair just above it. Leaning back, I basked in the heat that seemed to unknot every tendon in my body, warming me to the core, and closed my eyes. 

I suppose I must have sat there for quite some time, for when I opened my eyes, Xena had disappeared. I felt like a limp noodle, soaking in hot soup, every inch of me completely relaxed. 

This was just what I wanted when I came on the cruise. The only thing left to do was bring my mother. With a measure of reluctance, I hauled myself up.

My legs threatened to rebel and leave me stranded, but I managed to lug myself into the changing rooms. Settling on the bench, I began putting my clothes back on. 

While I was in the midst of buttoning my shirt, a flash of red at my edge of my vision made me look up. "I don't want to play round two," I told it languidly.

It edged closer, beckoning me, and I shook my head with finality. The lantern seemed to droop with disappointment, and I sighed. "Fine, fine. Let me finish putting on my clothes," I muttered. Instantly, it perked back up again, seemingly taking on a golden glow in its joy.

I laced my sneakers, then tried to stand up. It was futile. My legs had gone on strike, and were absolutely not disrupting their protest for something as trivial as walking around. The lantern looked bemused, and it floated away, sensing my inability to play tag. I sank back into the soft cushion of the bench and laid down. A short nap would not hurt anyone, I decided as I closed my eyes. Sleep quickly spirited me away.

When I opened my eyes, I found Bobo inspecting me closely. "I thought you died for a moment, you know that? You almost had me worried," he told me coldly. I stifled a giggle at his dispassion, and he flicked his tail at me. "I have prepared food, if it pleases you to eat," he added.

I hauled myself up, gripping the side of the bench tightly to support myself, and dragged myself over to the main room, ignoring my sleepy mind's grumbles. A small plate full of multicolored mochi, three cups and a large teapot sat on the table. Light filtered in from the open door, where I could see a small garden full of hydrangeas. Quietly seating myself on the soft floor cushions, I grabbed the teapot and tried to pour myself some tea.

Bobo smacked my hand with a surprisingly soft paw. "Customers can't pour the tea themselves," he announced, before picking up the teapot and pouring some for me elegantly. 

I picked my cup up with both hands, admiring the intricate flower that had been painstakingly painted on it. The tea had a faint aroma of citrus, and a slight natural sweetness to it. I sipped at it, enjoying the zest of the tea.

Xena came in, the lantern at her shoulder. I looked up at it and said, "Oh. It's you."

"Ah, so you've met Lantern? It's our advertiser! Don't you think it's just great?" I had to admit the lantern did an excellent job of attracting me to the spa. Even if I was not on my way there on my own, I would probably have chased it till we were at the spa.

Nodding politely, I picked up a piece of pastel pink mochi and placed it in my mouth. The chewy texture gave way to delightfully saccharine red bean paste, and I reached for a second mochi. "This is delicious," I exclaimed, my voice slightly muffled from being full. "I really should bring my mother here!"

When she heard that, Xena's face lit up with excitement. "You really think so? Oh, thank you so much! It's so lonely here, and hardly anyone ever even bothers visiting. To have two customers in one trip... Why, that's the most busy we've ever been! Lantern, can you go look for Leah's mother?" Xena rambled on, tail wagging as though she were a dog. Her eyes shone like they had been polished, and she practically zoomed off to prepare some more mochi, Bobo hurrying after her.

I looked at the lantern, which bobbed closer. "Alright, I guess I can play tag again," I told it as I stood up. "Let's stop at my cabin first, ok?"

Reaching out my hand, I poked the lantern. The chase was on.