#and i have some productive stuff i might start on tomorrow but i want to write more

[signalhill-if]

I made a ko-fi :)

[fickleminder]

seven supervillains and one (1) normie

You move in with seven normal, law-abiding housemates.

Here’s my piece for @obeymezine! Leftover sales are live till Dec 15th, so do consider supporting us since all proceeds will be going to charity :)

Lucifer looks even more handsome in person.

You find yourself paying more attention to him and the deep timbre of his voice than the tour of Serenity Manor and its rules. Only a firm call of your name snaps you back to the present.

“This will be your room,” he says, opening one last door for you to step through. It’s decently furnished with all the basic necessities and has an en suite to boot. How generous. “Is this to your satisfaction?”

“Oh absolutely, everything looks great!” You wheel your luggage into a corner and set your backpack down on the large study table. “I still can’t believe I got matched with you guys for the boarding program. Thank you so much for having me!”

“The pleasure is ours.” Lucifer gives you a polite nod. “Make yourself at home, and I will introduce you to my brothers tomorrow. We hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us.”

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“Surveillance systems are online,” Levi reports as all eyes watch you unpack on the screen. “Ugh, bugging rooms is so old school. It’s only the first day, I doubt there’ll be any suspicious activity.”

“And it better stay that way.” Satan’s already profiling you from your posters on the walls, your stuffed sheep on the bed, your clothes in the closet. No red flags yet, as far as he can discern.

“Pfft, what can one exchange student do to us?” Mammon scoffs. Your background check was clean, your documents checked out. In every practical sense, you were an ordinary postgraduate taking courses at the local university for a year. “Loosen up guys!”

Lucifer shoots him a glare indicating he has no intention of doing so. “No funny business. It’s unfortunate that we have to go undercover in our own home, but Elysium’s agents are on to us. We need to mask our activities and blend in, and we have no choice but to wait for them to leave. Until then, continue to follow Prince’s orders, but keep things low-key. Do I make myself clear?”

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“—massive destruction of property at Settler’s factory premises. Witnesses say it was Gluttony in another one of his rampages, and this marks the fourth attack in…”

You glance towards a face-palming Lucifer at the breakfast table. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, perfectly fine.” He smiles through gritted teeth and switches off the TV, silencing the news.

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You have a few days before classes officially start, so you decide to take some time familiarizing yourself with the town. Lucifer has graciously agreed to escort you, along with one of his brothers.

“And that’s about it, really. Is there anywhere else you wanna go?” Belphie asks after they’ve given you a cursory tour. You mention wanting to return to the confectionery shop you passed by a while back, and he smirks. “Sure, but if you’re looking for Settler products, they might not have much stock.”

“That’s alright! They used to be one of my favorite brands you know, but then I found out they engaged in a lot of questionable business practices. It’s a shame really, I liked their stuff.”

Lucifer feels his work phone vibrating in his pocket all of a sudden and curses mentally. What could Barbatos possibly want at this moment? “Apologies, I… have to use the washroom,” he excuses himself in a hurry, discreetly signaling Belphie to cover for him before running off.

Almost half an hour passes with no Lucifer in sight.

“He’s been gone for a while. Should we go and check up on him?” You ask worriedly.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Belphie sniggers. “He usually takes really long shits anyway. Let’s just go. He’ll catch up eventually.”

Lucifer meets you back in the manor at the end of the day, and you miss the dirty look he sends Belphie behind your back after you recommend some home remedies for treating diarrhea.

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“Satan, I need some advice!” The blond follows your voice to the kitchen and freezes when he sees you holding his collection of hunting knives. For gutting people, not cutting meat. “I’m making lunch. Which of these are for fruits and vegetables?”

This is why Lucifer always nags us about picking up our toys, Satan realizes belatedly. Fuck, he probably left them out on the couch or something. At least he’d remembered to clean off the blood first. “Those aren’t for cooking. They’re for, uh, self-defense.” Idiot, is that the best you could come up with? There’s no way it’ll—

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed.” You gasp and quickly return the knives to him. “One of my old roommates used to sleep with a dagger under their pillow, though I personally prefer to keep a baseball bat next to my bed. Besides, didn’t some rich politician get murdered in his own house just recently? The manor seems secure and you guys have Cerberus, but better safe than sorry I guess.”

Satan is still reeling from your sheer obliviousness, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I completely agree,” he says with a poker face.

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Mammon’s Lexura is a sight to behold, but you’re more interested in how fast she can go.

“Oi, I know you’re worried about your friend but keep your oily fingers to yourself, you hear?” He grumbles, opening the garage door for you and Beel to enter. “Which mall was it again?”

“The one with Bullseye,” you reply distractedly, furiously tapping away on your phone. “I can’t believe she and her girlfriend got harassed in public. You only read stories about this happening to other people online. What kind of fucked up organization calls themselves a charity and— Shit!”

You trip on something and drop your phone. It bounces and skids under Mammon’s car, but Beel instinctively steps forward before you can even react. With one arm, he tilts the vehicle just enough for you to duck under and retrieve it.

“Wow, thanks so much Beel!” You dust your phone off and check for cracks on the screen while Mammon sweats buckets behind you. “You gotta share your workout routine with me sometime. Hey, do you mind coming along and being our muscle for the day?”

“Okay.” Beel agrees easily, and you pump your fists.

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“—worth millions. The curator declined to comment…”

“This is crazy, I was there just last week!” You exclaim while chewing on your dinner. “The museum had lots of cool stuff on display. Mostly illegally imported, if you catch my drift, but not anymore huh?”

Asmo winks at you. “What a shame. You could have seen Lust in action first-hand.”

“Aren’t heists supposed to be discreet? He is pretty good-looking though, I’ll give him that.”

“Is he prettier than me?” The entire table goes deathly silent as you squint between Asmo’s fluttering eyelashes and the masked supervillain on the TV screen. “Don’t you think he’d look better with a boob window?”

“…Nah, he doesn’t have the tiddies to pull it off.” Your gaze unconsciously flickers to Beel’s chest. “Plus the butts don’t match. Yours is flatter.”

Asmo’s jaw drops in mock outrage. “Honey, have you been checking me out? How very scandalous of you~”

“Enough, please.” Lucifer sighs amidst your spluttering.

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“That’s it. We’re screwed, our cover is blown. I knew this was a bad idea…”

“Let’s just resort to good ol’ fashioned murder and then frame it as a runaway case. No one will ever know!”

“This manor is a fortress located in the safest part of town. What the fuck do you think people will presume there is to run from?”

“There were a couple of close calls, but I think we’re still in the clear.” Beel recalls you quoting your statistics professor after an extended period of time where one of them would come home late the night before a major news event: correlation does not imply causation.

“Need I remind all of you, it was our proposal to join the boarding program as a front. Prince approved it himself, and I won’t allow us to back out now.”

“Shut up, Lucifer. Don’t you have any politicians to assassinate?” Belphie sneers.

“We will see this through.” Lucifer refuses to budge, ever the prideful bastard. “We’re still safe, but keep your guards up. Understood?”

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The kitchen is pitch black this time of night, but Levi’s had years to figure out a way around without alerting anyone he’s back.

“I hate on-site jobs,” he grumbles to himself. “What kind of company doesn’t have remote access to their servers nowadays? Let’s see how they like it when people steal and sell their private data instead, muahahaha— Eek!”

“Hmm? Levi?” You stifle a yawn and shuffle towards the rack of cups. “Why’re you up at this hour?”

Levi is still blinking away the spots in his vision from the sudden onslaught of light when you flipped the switch. He pales as you stare at his costume and equipment on the counter. “Wait, it’s not what it looks like—”

“Late con, huh? Must have been fun. You were still in character there. Heheh.” You pour yourself a glass of water. “Nice cosplay by the way. G’night.”

“G-goodnight!” Levi waits to hear the sound of your door closing before wheezing hysterically in relief.

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You sigh blissfully under the weight of four cats lounging on various parts of your body. “I’ll admit I had my doubts at first, but this is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Satan takes a long sip of his tea while petting the snoozing tabby on his lap. He looks like one of those criminal masterminds in the movies. “Visiting cat shelters is the best way to unwind after a long week. And don’t worry, I have it on good authority that this one actually takes proper care of our furry friends.”

“That’s reassuring to hear! I’ll never understand why anyone would want to hurt these precious babies.” A little calico wanders near your face and boops your nose with its toe beans. “If only all shelters could be as noble as this one. Remind me to stop by the donation box before we leave!”

“Gladly. Speaking of donations, remember that charity group that messed with your friends? I heard someone stole every last penny from their funds and now they’re on the verge of insolvency. Truly, this is karma at work.”

“Schadenfreude!” You cheer before the two of you clink cups and drink.

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“Hey, you’ve been in there for a while now. Do you need— Oh.”

“Belphie!” You grin at him sheepishly and fidget with your rubber gloves. “I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this. My old dorm had a janitor, so I’ve never been assigned toilet duty before…”

“No wonder. You’d be dead in minutes if you kept this up,” Belphie snaps, quickly moving the unopened bottle of bleach away from you. “Mixing cleaning products is a sure-fire way to poison yourself.”

You wince at his harsh tone, and Belphie’s expression softens in sympathy.

“Here, I’ll teach you.” And then he proceeds to detail exactly what chemicals are in each product, which combinations produce different kinds of fumes with varying levels of toxicity, how to make odorless gasses that can kill a man in seconds—

“Why’d you stop?” You protest when Belphie abruptly cuts himself off. He’s probably feeling embarrassed about oversharing. “This is super informational. I’d be dead without you!”

“…Right.” He blinks, nonplussed. “You’re welcome, or whatever. Just stay away from the bleach, okay?”

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Mammon shuffles the deck with deft hands and explains the rules. “You play as an Elysium agent of your choice, and your goal is to defeat the mob boss terrorizing the city: Jesús Iglesias Ken. The game can be competitive or cooperative depending on which rules we follow, but I say we do competitive mode and bet on the winner!”

“Ugh, shaddup Mammon!” Levi groans while you set up the board and pieces.

“Now, for the characters! We have Kid, a tiny chihuahua of an agent who has lots of good buffs from the sweets he eats. Director, who can move other players during his turn; but don’t get fooled by his smile. He can be super scary sometimes! Spear, man that guy packs a punch. He’s a damage dealer with shitty taste buds.”

Too busy paying attention to Mammon, you don’t see the way Levi makes throat-slitting gestures and mouths SHUT UP SHUT UP STUPIDMAMMON—

“There are also NPCs like Sorcerer, who can help or hinder you depending on your actions, shady bastard. And Aristocrat, who’s on the villain’s side and a total bootlicker, but he gives valuable intel for the right price.”

“How do you know all of this? I don’t see it in the rule book.” You scan the character description section intently. “Don’t tell me… You’re secretly a fan!”

Mammon chokes, finally catching on to Levi’s signals. Both of them exchange wide-eyed looks before forcibly grinning at you. “Yeah, totally, I’m a fan! Hahaha…”

“What a nerd, right?” Levi laughs nervously. “Anyway, this game is more fun with more players, so let’s just play something else for now, okay? Okay.”

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“I’ve got reports that Elysium’s agents are finally moving out. We should be cleared to resume normal operations soon.”

“Our plan worked like a charm! Ooh, we’re so close~”

“Good job, everyone.” Lucifer nods with a satisfied smile. “This will all be over shortly. And just in time too. A year’s almost up.”

Everyone falls silent as their thoughts drift to you. It’ll be quiet without you around; you may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but you were always kind and genuine with all of them. It goes without saying that they’ll definitely miss you once you’re gone.

“We should stay in touch,” Mammon proposes suddenly, looking none of his brothers in the eye. “Y’know, to keep tabs and make sure we weren’t compromised or anything. See things through to the end and all that.”

For once, nobody objects to Mammon’s idea. “Indeed,” Lucifer murmurs in approval.

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“I’ll be on campus studying for my ethics finals. See you all at dinner!”

You set up camp at your favorite corner: a little nook in the section of the library that’s perpetually empty. Just as you make yourself comfortable and open your laptop, someone pings you with an encrypted message.

Grinning to yourself, you easily bypass Levi’s embedded spyware and open up a private channel to take the call. “Barb, it’s so good to hear from you!”

“Good afternoon.” A polished voice greets you from the speakers, and you quickly plug in your headphones to prevent eavesdropping. “Apologies for the disturbance, but I have the data you requested.”

“Thanks Barbatos. You really are the best AI I’ve ever created!”

“I am the only AI you’ve ever created, but the sentiment is acknowledged. Did your side project go well?”

“Always so humble, haha! And yes, it went wonderfully! It’s so good to finally meet the brothers face-to-face. They’re such a lively bunch!”

“I concur. Back to business: the up-and-coming cosmetics company you asked me to look into? It turns out your hunch was right; I’ve found evidence that they rely heavily on animal testing for their products.”

“A job for Belphie then. He’ll know how to put those chemicals to better use.”

“Of course. On a separate note, another political party has been pushing for…”

[wayfayrr]

Hello! If I may, I’d like to make a request.

When I was little (between 4 and 8), my brother and I played Ocarina of Time constantly. It was our go-to game when hanging out. We replayed it and found all secrets and stuff. I was wondering if you could do a platonic self aware OOT!Link one shot? One where Link considers the player to be like a sibling to him since they grew up together in a way?

Thank you so much! I really enjoy your work ❤️

you're very welcome anon! this was such a sweet request to write!! I went with the post timeskip link for this seeing as I've already written one for Majora's mask link and I thought it would be more interesting to have that difference between the two pieces <3 I hope you'll enjoy this

[masterlist]

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while… do you still have that old copy of Ocarina of time we used to play together? I’ve been kinda wanting to replay it. It’s a bit of a pain to get a new one or an emulator though so…”

“Uh? I think so, I can check in my attic later and drop it around your place tomorrow if I can?”

“That sounds perfect, thanks for the favour man.”

That was a fairly productive phone call, now I hopefully won’t have to mess about with an emulator or shell out for the subscription to play it again. Seeing as Nintendo doesn’t want to make their old catalogue accessible. All I need to do on my end is to wait and possibly google how to set up an N64 in the meantime.

Turns out that we did still have the old thing, and that it isn’t all that hard to set up either so it’s not like it takes too long for me to hear the calmingly melancholic tones of the game’s opening theme. Our old save file is still there too, although some of the stats on the file seem to have gotten a little bit corrupted because I’m convinced we completed it fully. Although it’s been what like 10 years or more since I would’ve last played, it makes sense that I might just be misremembering things. No harm in seeing where we left off though is there?

Well even though the file says otherwise, looking through Link’s inventory really wants to disprove that - there’s something with the same sprite as Zelda’s letter where it should just be an empty slot. It’s not got a name, if I hover over it it simply brings up a missing value error and the button prompt me to read it. It’s not like there’s any issue if I did open it, it’s an old save file so even if it does corrupt I won’t lose anything. 

Nothing happened, just a fade to blank before it glitched out and the inventory screen popped back up so that I could close it and have a look around…

How did Link turn around as I was paused in the inventory and how did his face get so close to the screen?

“[Name]? I knew you’d be back at some point! I knew you wouldn’t just leave your older brother for good… you wouldn’t would you?”

“...How do you know my name..?”

I know that Ai has gotten incredibly good recently but this is an N64, an unmodded one at that, so whatever the hell is happening right now can’t be due to that. This feels like it could be the start to a creepypasta though with everything going on right now - is this like a real life ben drowned - no it can’t be, he’d be crying blood if it were the case and he wouldn’t be as friendly either. 

“Because you told me it all those years ago when you first played through the game? You always spoke to me like I was a real person, like you saw me as your older brother, so it’s only natural that I started to see you like a little sibling right? Then when you disappeared I got so worried, It’s been so long but you’ve gotten so much older! Did you pull the mastersword yourself, because this much time can’t have really passed can it?... Can it?”

He looks almost like he’s about to cry, I should be caref- why am I so worried about hurting the feelings of a fictional character? Is it cause he sees me like a sibling, a younger one; because he knows me from when I was younger; or because he seems so attached to me already? Maybe I should just… turn it off so I don’t have to deal with it.

“I don’t remember how long it’s been, a good few years at least, Since I’ve played it. I wasn’t exactly planning to-”

“Is that what you used to control me!? I’ve never been able to get a good look at it before. Would you mind bringing it closer?”

“...Yeah I can bring it closer.”

The way he interrupted me was so so sad, he’s forcing himself to be cheery when he looks like he’s about to break down, like how an older brother would act. He really sees himself as my older brother doesn’t he? I have to admit that the way he’s leaning against the screen like an excited kid is also pretty cute I won’t lie to myself, if it weren’t for how insane the situation is I don’t think I’d mind him being my younger brother. He’s younger than me now anyway so that makes far more sense. 

Is the screen cracking beneath him? 

It’s definitely cracking under his weight, there are seconds left before it shatters.

“It’s so simple and yet it was the reason that you were able to-”

Glass can only last so long. And now he’s out, lying on my floor in a shocked heap with glass shards surrounding and covering him. After a couple of seconds of neither of us knowing what to do, we both snap into action at the same time, while I try to help him up and check for any serious wounds… he’s just laughing with the widest goofiest smile on his face, grabbing at my arms like I’m nothing but a wisp of a dream. 

“I - wow I - I could never have imagined that I could - that this - that this was even an option for me…”

“But I can be your brother in person now can’t I?”

[heliads]

hey babes!!! Ive been LOOVING your minho fics a lot since im back in my tmr phase 😘 if you still write for maze runner, could you do a minho x f!reader where theyre both runners and they have this kind of unspoken rivalry between each other and one day they arrive late to the maze’s gates, and theyre about to close when the reader manages to push minho to the gates so that he escapes but the reader doesnt?? and like the next day he sees the reader run to the gates when they open and he like finally admits his feelings for them? im so sorry if this was too specific!! 😘😘😘😘

anon i love this. anything for minho

masterlist

Minho is causing problems. Again.

It’s not even that bad this time. He’s bored, that’s what this really boils down to, he’s bored as hell and there’s nothing left to do in this place until sunrise tomorrow. He likes being a Runner, he’s not sure what he could possibly do that would feel half as right as this, but once he comes out of the Maze for the afternoon, he’s left with nothing to do at all.

Technically, that isn’t true. He could definitely go help one of his friends with their daily chores, but let’s be real, that was never an option. When you chip in one too many times, people start expecting that you’ll be there every time, and Minho doesn’t want to have another reason to let the Gladers down, so he stays by himself.

Right now, he’s by himself in the Map Room, the product of finishing the day’s run early yet again. Minho has already recorded all the twists and turns of today’s venture through the Maze, and his partner, Ben, is long gone. 

The guy probably found an empty corner of the Glade and disappeared for a nap, where he can emerge hours later, shaking his head like he’s forgotten where he is. Minho is deeply envious of his friend’s ability to sleep so easily. There are few things he wouldn’t do for a good night’s rest for once.

Ben’s absence also means that Minho is completely unsupervised, which should be a red flag to anyone else. Luckily, no one has noticed yet, which means that Minho has time to set up the perfect prank. It’s fantastic, and no one will have any idea it was him. 

A voice from behind Minho makes him startle. Looks like he isn’t the criminal mastermind he thought he was.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?”

Minho turns around slowly to face Newt, another one of his good friends. The blond second in command has his arms folded across his chest, the picture of weary disappointment.

Minho grins as innocently as he can. “What? Nothing. Just another day in the Map Room, you know. As a Runner, I can do whatever I want in here, and–”

Newt cuts him off irritably. “You mean that you’re not trying to hide all the writing supplies so Y/N can’t find them?”

Minho glances conspicuously at the door to the Map Room supply closet, which refuses to close. That might be because he’s stuffed every box he can find in there, but who knows, really?

“Oh, this? That’s just, uh, some spring cleaning. It gets really dusty in here, have you ever noticed that?”

Newt rolls his eyes. “Can I ask what Y/N’s done to deserve this, at least?”

Minho chuckles. “Nothing in particular, but you know that. Listen, this is going to be fantastic. The second she opens the door tomorrow afternoon, every box on this side of the Glade is going to come sliding out like a supply avalanche. It’ll be hilarious.”

Newt groans. “You do realize that being Keeper of the Runners means that you’re actually supposed to be responsible, right? Not doing whatever this is?”

Newt gestures vaguely at the pile of stuff behind Minho. He’s not wrong, obviously, Minho knows that he’s just being a slinthead, but at least doing ‘whatever this is’ keeps him distracted. 

Already, though, the thrill of doing something wrong is wearing away, leaving him twitchy and prickly with guilt. His stomach feels hot, like he’s some kid who’s gotten caught trying to skip school. If he knew what school was like, that is. Regardless, it’s probably better than here.

Minho sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You can skip the lecture, I already know it’s dumb. Just need to do something, I guess. At least this’ll make someone laugh.”

Newt arches a brow, although he’s starting to smile. “Yeah, you and me. Not Y/N so much, though. Really, why is it that you two are at each other’s throats all the time? I would have thought that you’d get along.”

Minho steps away from the supply closet at last, leaning up against a nearby wall. “We do most of the time, it’s just more fun to squabble. We try to see who finishes their daily run faster, who’s more accurate, that sort of thing. Fills the time, I guess.”

Newt shrugs. “Whatever keeps you two on track. Just make sure that your cascade of boxes doesn’t mess up any of the maps, or you’ll have to do some spring cleaning there, too.”

Minho shudders. “Trust me, I didn’t touch the maps. I’m not completely out of my mind.”

Newt smirks. “Only a little bit, then?”

Minho chuckles at last. “Only a little bit.”

He leaves the Map Room soon after that, Newt having done his job of convincing Minho not to start anything else. The rest of the day passes in a blur, as it always does; the Gladers stick with their respective jobs, the sun is hot, the night is cool. The Doors slide shut and everyone pretends it isn’t completely terrifying to be stuck in here week after week. The last Greenie day was far enough away that the newest arrival has stopped crying at last. It’s frustratingly repetitive, but at least they aren’t dead. That’s all Minho has going for him at the moment.

Minho rises at dawn like usual, but this time Newt does too. Minho shoots his friend a questioning glance, especially when the second in command gestures for Y/N and Minho to follow him a few paces away.

Newt speaks at first, voice low to make sure he doesn’t wake up the rest of the Gladers. “I need you two to run together today. The next section we need keeps getting switched up by other Runners, and you two are the best we’ve got. Alby figures that if both of you run together, you’re less likely to mess up.”

Minho shoots a suspicious glance at Y/N, but she seems fine with it, so he nods. “Sounds good to me.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “We’ll see you this afternoon. If we get everything right, can we get a day off?”

Newt laughs. “Not a chance. Get running, you useless shanks.”

Minho grins and heads towards the Doors, Y/N at his side. She looks at him just before they enter the Maze, expression somewhat bemused.

“I don’t think I’ve actually run with you in forever. Scared you won’t be able to keep up?” She says, grinning so brightly Minho thinks she might be able to outshine the sun.

If Minho had any misgivings about why today’s section is so difficult to run that he’d need to go with Y/N, they’re banished by the sound of his own surprised laugh.

“Not a chance. I’d be worried about you, though. I’m rumored to be the fastest guy around.”

Y/N laughs too, and they take off into the twisting stone corridors. As they pass tangles of ivy and progress further into the Maze, Minho finds himself secretly grateful that he’s here with Y/N. At least now he can deflect his own paranoia by making jokes, although he’d never admit that to her face.

Truth be told, the longer the day wears on, the more thankful he is for Y/N’s presence. Their ever present rivalry lets him hide behind a familiar shield of sharp tongues and false criticisms, their painted veneers thick as ever. He’s never said a word that wasn’t a lie. He’s never been more true in his life, but man, who even knows that when you’ve been forced to forget all but the last year?

Even beyond his favored coping mechanism, Minho still feels himself getting nervous when they reach their halfway point far past noon. They should have had their lunch break here about an hour earlier, they should have turned back by now. It’s not that the road is difficult, it’s that it’s impossible. The creators of this godless Maze have a new hitter with this section, it’s somehow different from every other segment Minho has run.

He’s used to thinking that he owns the place like he runs it, that he could find his way inside and out, blindfolded, in the dead of night. Today is making Minho doubt himself like he never has before. When at last they reach the turning back point, Y/N and Minho lock eyes and decide not to eat their lunch. There’s no time for a break, not when they’re so late already. He pushes aside the dull ache in his stomach and keeps going.

It’s harder and harder to keep his spirits up. Even though he’s already been down most of the section this morning, it’s no easier to find his way back. His already existing stress just builds and builds until Minho second guesses himself at every turn. Y/N’s no better, he can tell that, but at least the two of them are halfway decent at doing this together. They can keep each other in check long enough to make it out, Minho is certain of it. Or, he’d like to be certain of it. He’s not sure what he believes in anymore, nothing really matters in this face of the Maze.

Truth be told, he’s getting really worried. The sky is darkening at a far too rapid rate, and although Minho would like nothing more than to thrust his hands up and beg the time to stop long enough for them to just get out, it’s far too late in the afternoon. They should have been out of the Maze for at least half an hour by now, yet they’re still running. It’s not good, to say the least.

At last, they make the final turn and spot the Doors up ahead. Minho glances towards Y/N, sparing enough time to flash her a quick grin before picking up his pace even despite his screaming lungs and legs. They’ve barely turned the corner, though, when the ground starts shaking beneath his feet.

It takes Minho a couple of moments to realize what’s going on, why it sounds like thunder even without a drop of rain. He should know this sound from hearing it twice per day, yet for some reason being on this side of the Maze when the Doors start to close makes it completely, utterly foreign.

That’s what’s happening, after all, the Doors are closing and Minho is about to be locked out. His breath surges in his chest, absolutely terrified. He can’t be dying now, not after everything. He sprints with everything he has, Y/N right beside him. They have to get out, but they can’t. They’re too far away.

Still, he tries. They both do. The gap is already shrinking, just out of reach. Minho’s steps start to slow for just a second as he realizes that this is impossible, that there’s no way he can actually make it in time. Just before the Doors shut fully, though, something slams into him from behind and he’s pushed through.

A half second later, Minho is standing on the other side of the Doors. He doesn’t know how it happened until he turns back and sees Y/N still in the Maze, and then he knows. She must have shoved him through just in time, but she won’t make it now. Minho has just enough time to lock eyes with her before the Doors slam together, and then she’s gone, gone forever.

Minho stalks towards the Doors as if expecting them to open again, but there’s nothing, no movement from the solid stone. He raises a hand to them tentatively, then slams his fist into the Doors, again and again until it comes back bloody. There’s a hand on his arm, Newt maybe, trying to guide him away, but Minho shakes him loose as if the boy were a fly. 

Minho shouts until his voice is hoarse, begging for any sign that Y/N is somewhere on the other side, but his screams go unanswered. At last, he’s exhausted, and barely manages to drag himself to the Map Room. He has to get this down so Y/N’s sacrifice won’t be in vain.

He walks into the Map Room and stares at the model in the middle of the room, scarcely able to concentrate long enough to register that he’s in the right place. Minho reaches for the door to the supply closet to grab a pencil and paper, and stares uncomprehendingly as stacks of boxes slide out at him, puddling around his feet like a cardboard sea.

It hits him then, that this was his doing, his supposed prank on Y/N from yesterday. It feels like he set it up centuries ago, and the weight of everything he’s just lost comes crashing back down on his shoulders. Minho slumps to the ground, sitting in the mess he’s made. He can’t believe that Y/N would do that, save him when it meant damning herself. 

Truth be told, he’s not sure if he would have made the same choice as easily as her. When it comes down to it, would Minho have saved Y/N, or would he have been content that at least he wouldn’t have died alone? Would he have even realized that was a possibility in the first place? He’d like to say that he would have done it every time, but he won’t know for sure until he’s in a position like that again.

Everyone is treading carefully around Minho, he can see that. The second he sits down at a table to pretend to eat his dinner, everyone either flashes him brief sympathetic glances or just looks away completely, as if by not meeting his gaze they won’t have to deal with what just happened.

Minho kind of wants to do something to force them to think about it, like clamber up onto a table and start shouting about how they’re all being useless shanks by sitting around and pretending nothing ever happened. It’s not like any of them could possibly do anything, not really, but at least he’d feel better than this constant guiltiness.

He can’t sleep at all that night, too caught up in the fact that Y/N is out there somewhere, absolutely terrified, if she hasn’t already died. That, too, is almost unmentionable. What will he do if he’s out running the next day and finds her, broken and bloody, no longer able to laugh with him or even draw a single breath? It might kill him too.

The sky brightens eventually, although Minho has yet to be convinced that the day has actually begun. Maybe it’s just one endless night forever, again and again until there is no end to any of this. Minho sees a couple of Gladers starting to get up and stares at them, confused, until he realizes that they’re Runners, which means that he has to get up too.

That’s the worst part about all of this, how he’s expected to go about his day and head into the Maze once more as if he didn’t just lose Y/N. He doesn’t know if he can do this. Frypan asks if he wants to sit the day out, but Minho’s already up, so he just shrugs and says that he has nothing else to do. It’s true, but not a good excuse, and both boys know it.

Minho finds himself standing outside the Doors with a small crowd of Gladers. Most of the others are still asleep, having assumed that today will play out the way every other day does, in which those who stay in the Maze overnight will be dead. That’s the way it’s always been, but Minho still finds himself silently praying that Y/N might be the exception.

Newt walks over to Minho just before the time comes. “You going to be alright?”

Minho lifts a shoulder, voice dull. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

A rumbling sound emanates throughout the Glade, and Minho turns his fragmented attention back towards the Doors. Despite the odds, he still feels his spirits fall when he notices that nobody is there waiting for him. He didn’t realize how much hope he was still holding out that Y/N would survive until he’s faced with this empty corridor.

Minho stands there a moment longer, just staring and watching his very soul bleed away from him, and then he sees it. A flicker of movement, just at the end of the hallway stretching out before him. Minho doesn’t know for certain until he’s already moving, and then he’s running as fast as he can towards Y/N.

Y/N, who is by some miracle still alive, who’s limping towards him around the corner. Minho runs faster than he ever has before until he’s before her. He wraps his arms around her before he knows what he’s doing, pulling her so close that they might become one and the same. His eyes flicker shut, at last dropping off the last bit of his stress.

“You’re alright,” he says, barely able to manage the syllables.

“Mostly,” Y/N mumbles against his shoulder. He holds her closer anyway.

At last, Minho reluctantly lets her go, immediately starting to scan her for injuries. Her ankle looks bad, maybe twisted, but other than a few scrapes and gashes on her arms, she’s mostly unharmed. It’s a miracle.

Y/N arches a brow as if she can tell what he’s thinking. “Surprised to see me?”

Minho laughs quietly. “Something like that. Mainly relieved that you made it out.”

She smirks. “Of course I made it out. Did you really think I’d ever let you stay the fastest Runner forever?”

“Not a chance,” Minho breathes, “I need you more than anyone else here.” 

Her smile widens into something genuine. She’s not gone, he’s alright. Nothing could ever be better.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @hiya-its-amber, @thatfangirl42, @gods-fools-heroes

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Beggin’

(Broadchurch) Alec Hardy x Reader

Synopsis: Alec has no concept of time and barges in Y/N’s house to investigate. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, face riding/sitting, oral sex (f receiving), slight praise, no beta we die like his heart

She'd just come out of the shower, hair up in a half hearted bun. Y/N was exhausted, the current case was on her mind. A murder, that was evident. The victim was an old woman in her home, a single gunshot to the chest and her house ransacked. But it didn't look right.

As she changed into some comfy short shorts and an oversized Elvis Presley t-shirt, she visualized the scene in her head. It just wasn't right. She remembered a little purple jewelry box up near the dresser, and it didn't appear to be opened. She made a mental note to check that out, along with the neighbors alibi and how sound could transfer in a duplex.

Of course she knew when she agreed to be a Detective Sergeant that it was going to be time consuming, that this career would become you to an extent. And she wanted that. After she accidentally stumbled into this career and saw her first scene, she knew that was what she wanted with her life. But she hadn't realized that that would mean when she does even the most basic functions, her brain would be so wholly preoccupied. She took her hair out, brushed her teeth, pulled the covers down then went to turn out the lights before climbing into them. And all throughout it, she was speculating about silencers and times of death.

Her head had barely hit the pillow before she heard a banging at her front door. She laid there for a moment, contemplating her options. It was either some tragedy has happened or some idiot come to hurt her. And quite frankly she knew she could hold her own. Y/N wasn't a fool, she wasn't going to go answer it without precaution. She quickly went and retrieved a bread knife from the kitchen before going to the door.

The knife was in position when she opened it. Instead of finding some craved criminal, or even some sobbing family member, she found her boyfriend/boss with a box of papers.

"Alec? It's one in the morning."

His eyes narrowed at the sight of her. He looked tired, but he did always look just a little tired. His hair was messed up and his beard just a touch scruffy.

"I don't trust Anderson."

"What?" She asked. He didn't answer as he walked into her house and deposited the box of files on her kitchen table. She didn't mind Alec coming over, hell she loved the chance to see him, but this was all a little unprompted for her.

"Y/N, didya get anything on Imogen Walker? I don't like her. I also don't like this bloke, who does he think he is? Fucking hell," Alec started pulling stuff out to work on.

Y/N wanted to protest, but she also knew that she wasn't going to get much sleep even if she tried. This was at least productive and she got to spend time with him. She grabbed a blanket from the living room, wrapped it around herself, and sat down at the table.

"Imogen has a few misdemeanors but nothing of this caliber, nothing that would suggest murder." She said, "As for Gary, he did have a stay in the hospital back in his twenties for mental illness. I requested the documents for the diagnosis and behavior during the stay but they probably won't come in until later today or tomorrow. I think you need to focus on her niece, her alibi is shaky at best."

If Y/N focused on DI Alec Hardy's face, she might have seen the shadow of a smile on his lips that he quickly hid with other possible motives and questions. He'd never say so, but he loved these moments. The times when he could share what he was truly passionate about with someone that he truly loved ... Those moments were the best. All he would need was Daisy cracking jokes in the corner for this moment to be complete.

It was long after the sun came up before Y/N finally decided to make some tea for the two of them. She told Alec who grumbled a one worded response she didn't bother to try and understand. Maybe it was Alec or the case, but she strangely wasn't tired. Her mind kept whirling with all the possibilities and she enjoyed the time with Alec.

"Y/N! Do you have the SOCO reports from the car in there?" Hardy called to her. "I need to call -"

He stopped, looking at her from above his glasses, his lips still perched out from his words that fell forgotten. She gave him a strange look, placing the two cuppas down on the table then passing him the SOCO report he'd wanted. Yet he still stared, didn't even bother to say a word. "Hardy?"

DI Alec Hardy was not a man of many words, but when he needed to use words he always had the right thing to say. Or at least he believed it to be the right thing to say. But now, in a moment when words would definitely be helpful, he had nothing. He just stared like a man gone wild. Y/N didn't even know what he was staring at, and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. Which drew extra attention.

"Alec? What're you looking at?"

He seemed to snap out of it, shoving his glasses up his nose and glancing back down at the paper. Y/N didn't know what to make of it, but thought perhaps he was exhausted. She pulled the kitchen chair to her, putting a leg on either side so she could rest her chest on the back of it while she read. And yet again, she looked up to see his warm brown eyes trapped on her and her body.

"Alec?" He didn't answer. "Alec! What's going on?"

Alec adjusted in his seat and said calmly, "nothing."

"Bull."

"Nothing is wrong. Can we continue?"

She felt silly for a moment, maybe she was exaggerating. Then she propped a leg on the chair and she saw his eyes wander again. Okay enough was enough. "Alec, what the hell?"

"Y/N-"

"Oh ho, don't Y/N me to try and get out of answering my question. What's got you looking at me at all weird?"

A pink started to spread on his cheeks and ears, but he looked away. No way, she thought. There's no way 'shitface' just blushed. Yes they'd been dating and she knew he was more than that nickname, but sometimes the occasion calling for it. Like when was blushing early in the morning for no reason, and she'd never seen him blush unless they were making love. Oh. Oh. Her eyes widened, and she felt a little smile on her lips. She stood up slowly, watching the way he tried to fight his gaze from following after.

"Alec, anything you want to tell me?" Y/N went and sat down on the edge of the table in front of him. He swallowed.

"Don't laugh."

"Darling, I would never laugh."

He rolled his eyes and looked away, not having the strength to say it while looking at her. He swiped his glasses off and groaned. "I... those shorts. I really like those shorts."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was not quite the answer she was expecting. "The shorts?"

"Your thighs, they... I like seeing them."

Her mouth fell open in a little o, adjusting her legs slightly as though thinking about them meant she had to move them. He likes her thighs, enough to distract him from work. Alec saw this reaction and immediately flushed darker, "you think I'm stupid."

"Gosh, no, no, no not at all," she said, "I just didn't know."

He still seemed embarrassed. Alec grabbed his glasses and shoved them back on his face, going to grab his work again. But Y/N felt bad, she certainly hadn't meant it like that, she would never shame him for something in the bedroom. She just wanted to know. And she found it very sweet that he found her so attractive. It made her feel sexy.

With a gentle touch she made him set his paper down. He looked with wide eyes. Y/N moved with slow, deliberate movements so Alec could take the time to digest it all. She carefully climbed onto his chair until her thighs were straddling him in his seat, though she hovered above him. She could see his adam's apple bob up and down as she placed her weight on him, leaning forward to take his glasses off. They were so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. She smiled, "hi."

His large hands came to rest on her thighs almost instinctively, squeezing the flesh there. From under her, she could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against his pants. It made her rock her hips just slightly to meet it. He let out a hiss, grip tightening. She quite liked him holding her there, the way he ran his hands down the length of her thighs with a tight grip. He cherished them.

"Y/N..." he murmured, eyes half shut as he lifted a hand to cup her jaw. She leaned in and captured his lips with her own, exploring the kiss and grinding against his hips as he branded her with his touch. She always loved the feeling of his kisses, the way he fell into her touch like it was instinctual. His jaw was always delightfully scratchy and she loved to run her fingers along his beard.

When they broke and their foreheads fell against each other, each gasping for breath, he spoke softly. "Darling.. I have a request."

Alec didn't often ask for much in the bedroom. Y/N certainly wasn't trying to prevent him, he just tended to stay quiet. So she pressed a soft kiss to his scratchy beard and nodded for him to continue. He swallowed nervously before continuing, "I've this fantasy. I've only had it for you."

Alec got embarrassed sometimes when talking about sex. Oh sure, he was great during the act. But he always treated any fantasies or ideas as something stupid and silly. But Y/N didn't think that, she wanted to make it pleasurable for the both of them. If he was willing to do things for her, then she would be willing to do things for him. In a voice that came out far huskier than she intended, she said, "I want to hear it."

"I, I want you to sit on my face."

Her eyebrows shot up and she pulled away to look at him, to check that was what he wanted. His flush got darker and he tried to turn away, but she grabbed his face before he could. The corner of her mouth quirked up, "Alec Hardy, even in your fantasies you want to go down on me. Are you sure that's what you want?"

He nodded vigorously, his gaze intense. She nodded an affirmation and got off, offering a hand for him to take as she guided him into the bedroom. "Tell me where you want us."

Alec nodded. He began to take off his clothing, tossing them on the chair in the corner. Then he got onto the bed near the headboard and told you to strip as well. Here came the part he got excited about, even if excited for Alec meant a pair of wild eyebrows lifted high.

Now naked, Y/N went from the edge of the bed and crawled up to him, showing off her assets. He took a deep shaking breath. She situated herself so her cunt was right above Alec's head, thighs already shaking slightly but she was determined to stay above. Then she felt his hands grab at the back of her thighs, pulling her down.

"Alec!" She squealed, "I can't! What if I hurt you?"

"Hurt you?" He asked in an incredulous way, as though the thought was the furthest thing from his mind. "How could you hurt me?"

"My weight on you.."

He answered what he believed to be a silly question with a silly answer, and dragged her down squarely on his mouth. She laughed a little as she settled, but his hot tongue on her clit was enough to distract her to silence. Well, not silence, but certainly not laughter.

This was a sensation unlike any she'd had. Alec had gone down on her before and it was bloody fantastic, she always left panting and delirious with pleasure. But this seemed to open a whole new wave of sensations. He came into it with a crazed intensity, yearning to taste every part of her he could. His touch was everywhere, hot as it skimmed over her skin and seared her. His lips were plush as they parted to let his tongue slide along her folds, tasting her. That delightful beard was going to cause a rash tomorrow morning but she didn't care as she rocked her hips to meet his tongue's ministrations.

She tasted like sweat and sex and everything good in the world, if he could bottle it up he would. Though in the back of his mind he knew Y/N worried about crushing him with her weight, it was that sensation of being fully engulfed by her that he was so attracted to. Those burning thighs were right by his head, holding him there and clenching with each stroke of pleasure. He held onto them tightly, letting her know just how much he enjoyed it. It was better than just regular oral, it was deeper and intimate. One look up at her was enough to make him shudder and hold her tighter. She looked like a goddess, head thrown back with those raspy little moans pouring from her. Her breasts heaved on her chest, begging to be touched. If he died then and there, with the image of her above him, he'd die a very happy man.

Y/N gasped his name over and over, rolling her hips and meeting his expert tongue. He was everywhere, scorching all of her. Alec’s touch was making her dizzy with pleasure and if she wasn’t careful she’d never leave her spot here. That coil inside of her started to tighten, twisting as tingles were sent all throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm coming, tightening and tightening until with a sobbing gasp she came on Alec Hardy’s tongue.

He never stopped for one second, just lapping at her oversensitive clit until he could feel her coming down from her high. Then he adjusted, helping guide her down his body so he was sitting and she was straddling him. She melted against his chest, head in the crook between his shoulder and neck, breaths uneven.

“Oh my god,” she said finally.

Alec kissed her forehead and rubbed her back, “thank you, darling.”

She gave him a thumbs up, “you tell me all your fantasies, love, because holy fuck.”

Alec nodded, “duly noted.”

“Shut up,” she said, burying her face deeper into him with a smile.

[girlbot666]

advice for university students who have a hard time getting work done aka the things that my ADHD-having ass needed 3 fucking semesters to learn :

1. go to class. GO TO CLASS. yes, even if the lectures are recorded. yes, even if you have other work you really need to do right now. you will fall behind if you don't and it will suck. next time you have class you will think, "I can't go to class today because I still haven't caught up with the material from the previous class" and then you'll do that several times and then you'll haven fallen really far behind and it will really suck. when you show up to class, keeping up with assignments will just naturally follow.

2. do not try to get work done in your room. it will not happen. no matter how much you don't want to leave, you have to do it, you have to leave. go to a library, or a cafe, or even just a different room in your house/dorm if you don't want to change out of your pjs (and even if you're one of those people who *can* get studying done in your room [couldn't be me], separating the environments you work in and relax in will feel so much better, i promise!).

3. go to office hours. if it's one of those STEM class office/peer tutoring hours where lots of people are being helped at once, it's especially important that you go. the material is designed to be challenging and you're not expected to be able to do it on your own. it's also a great way to hold yourself accountable to getting the work done on time. literally just put on some noise-cancelling headphones and work on stuff there until you have a question.

4. start on your big assignments EARLY. working on one essay or project and almost nothing else for 2 days straight leads to burnout. start at least 2 weeks in advance, and work on it everyday for just an hour, maybe 2. setting time-based goals is key here. it makes the assignment feel less intimidating. it's easy to convince yourself to work on it even if you don't want to because, hey, it's only an hour. once you start getting bored or frustrated, it's not too hard to power through, since it's only an hour. and if you're getting super distracted and really struggling to focus you can switch gears to something else guilt-free, and then return to it tomorrow with fresh eyes and a fresh mind.

5. inevitably, you'll fuck up. you'll do poorly on a test, you'll miss an assignment, you'll not understand things you're learning in class, you'll get nervous during a presentation. some days, you might not even fuck up necessarily, you'll just feel bad. when it happens, take a step back. acknowledge and honor your emotions. you might feel sad or disappointed or ashamed. treat yourself with kindness and compassion. try not to judge yourself, recognize that your feelings are natural and normal. take care of yourself like you would take care of a friend who was in your position. do some easy assignments, then wrap up work early. eat something, talk to someone or journal about it, do some cleaning, take a shower, and go to bed early. maybe it feels like you shouldn't because you have too much work to do, but trust that addressing your heavy emotions is more productive than just powering through. personally, if i don't do this, the feeling of shame lingers in my subconscious and i spiral for several days. like, don't get out of bed or eat or do any work kind of spiraling. perhaps the consequences are not as material for you. regardless, honoring your emotions and treating yourself with compassion is a life-long skill that is always worth practicing. your mental health will thank you for it.

[heavenlyakin]

Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

Here's a little late Valentine's Day fic! Minors DNI.

Genre: mild angst, fluff, and smut (the holy trinity!) oh and a little comedy

Warnings: some light couple fighting/bickering, cunnilingus, fem reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Atsumu nearly loses it as you clench around him, body writhing beneath his. Your eyes flutter shut and your mouth parts open to let out another breathless moan. He fights back every urge he has to bust in you now, not wanting to end the pleasure for either of you. 

“Tsumu,” you whine, your eyes opening, glossy with love and lust.

He can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself. He cums deep inside you with a final thrust, his breath catching and then a groan escaping. He opens his eyes to look at you, but you start to fade from view. 

Atsumu wakes up abruptly, jerking his arms and sitting up. His forehead drips sweat as he shakes his head. Another wet dream, he realizes. Flipping the covers off him, he sees he’s made a mess of himself again. He flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you’d just come home already. 

Looking over at his alarm clock, he sees it’s 3:34 am, just after lunchtime for you on the east coast of the United States. He never imagined you’d go no contact while visiting family back home, but he also never imagined you’d have such a detrimental fight just hours before your flight. 

–

2 Weeks Prior 

“That’s really close to Valentine’s day, right?”Atsumu asks you, peering over from the couch. You’re surprised to see he’s looked up from the volleyball game he put on half an hour ago. 

“Yeah, I’ll get back here on the 14th, actually.” You tell him, drying the final plate and putting it away in the cabinet. 

When you look back at Atsumu you see he’s frowning. 

“Look, I didn’t buy the ticket. If you have an issue with it, take it up with my dad.” You walk over, sitting down beside him on the sofa. 

He wraps his arm around you and you lean into him, curling up on the sofa beside him. His fingers lazily stroke your arm as you sit with him in silence. He’s watching the Argentinian team again, the one you can never remember the name of. All you do know is that one of the players is from Japan and going to be playing in the upcoming Olympics against Atsumu this summer. You assume he’s keeping tabs on him. 

“What if you didn’t go? I’ll pay to change your flights so you go after Valentine’s day and once practices pick up and I’m not home as often. I-” 

“Atsumu, why don’t you want me to go home?” You snap, sitting up and moving his arm off your shoulder. “I haven’t been home in over a year and missed Christmas with them.” 

“Baby that’s not-” 

“No, it is. You’ve been whining about this trip since my dad booked the flight.” You stand up, storming out of the room and to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. 

Atsumu has never made a big deal about Valentine’s day before, given you’ve spent two previous together you didn’t think it would be bad getting in on that day. Sure, you’ll be jetlagged and exhausted, but you’d still be able to go out if he wanted to, but last year you had takeout in your pajamas after a particularly long practice. Why would it be any different, especially since his prep for the Olympics has already been so intense, and will only begin to pick up more?

Either way, he’s not getting his way this time. It's not like you’re keeping score, but you tend to give in to his wants more now that you’ve moved in together, even sacrificing Christmas with your family to spend it with his family and meet Osamu's baby. How does he not understand that you just need a few weeks to spend with your family as well? 

You grab your suitcase from the closet and begin to fill it, rather haphazardly. You’re more productive when you’re worked up, anyways so you might as well use the energy. Plus you leave tomorrow night, it’s not like you have too much longer to get your stuff together. 

A light rasping knock draws your attention to the bedroom door. “Baby, I’m sorry, I just am going to miss you is all.” He says opening the door and leaning on the frame, looking rather defeated. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him, going back to packing your bag. “I just need some time to pack and then sleep before the trip tomorrow.” Atusumu looks defeated but smiles anyways and leaves the room.

Even though it’s clear he feels terrible about pestering you, it’s too late now for your attitude to shift. It’s not like you enjoy your sudden shift in mood, but once you're feeling foul there isn’t much you or anyone else can do about changing it. Overall, it’s just better to let you ride it out. 

–

Your nails bite into your palm as the plane starts to land. Flying has always been fine, but the landing has always made you nervous, mainly because you hatehow it makes you bounce around. Luckily, you didn’t have anyone beside you for the flight back home to Japan, so you have been comfortable for the long journey. 

You find yourself picturing Atsumu fighting the airport traffic, cursing and threatening to honk at the people in front of him. Usually, he’s the one at fault, but you’ve learned to just let him rant and rave since he never actually makes a fool of himself to others… just threatens it. 

The next half hour goes by in a flash, it’s grabbing carry-ons, waiting in line, and fighting for bags at baggage claim. Next thing you know, your phone is buzzing with Atsumu’s picture as he calls you. 

“Hi baby,” you answer softly, but loud enough to be heard over the airport chaos. 

“I’m right outside your terminal. Are you already off the plane?” He asks, not sounding as excited as you expected him to be. 

“Yeah, I just grabbed my bags.” You tell him. 

“Alright.” He’s in a mood, you assume. He’s rarely this short with you. 

Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You hang up as you head towards the exit doors. 

You see his car before you’re out of the doors. He managed to get a good spot right up front. Dragging your suitcases behind you, you manage to make it to the car without pulling anything. You’d only brought a carry-on home, but your parents had gone overboard to make up for your missing Christmas, you had to pay for two checked bags to bring back. 

Atsumu jogs towards you, taking the bags from you and loading them into the car, silently. He smiled, but that’s the most affection you received from him. You slide into the passenger seat, pulling out your phone, and scrolling to find some pictures to show Atsumu on the drive home and tell him about your trip. He hadn’t texted you much during the time you were away, so you assumed it was because he was so busy with practices so you didn’t bother calling or texting him more either. 

Atsumu gets in the driver’s seat and starts to take off. “Want to see some of the pictures from my trip?” You wave your phone around smiling. “Everyone missed you this time.” 

“Everyone?” He side-eyes you, and you frown. 

“What’s up your ass?” You ask, putting your phone away in your pocket. “I thought you’d be excited to see me.” 

He sighs, gripping the steering wheel harder. “You texted me twice, in two weeks. You never called. You were angry when you left. So, sorry if I’m not the Mr. Sunshine you expected.” 

“You’re seriously mad at me?” you almost laugh but decide it’s better if you don’t. It’ll probably only antagonize him more. “You could have texted or called me, but you didn’t.” 

He looks over, his brows furrowed. Opening his mouth, it looks like he’s about to speak but then he closes it again, deciding against whatever he was going to say. 

“Happy fucking Valentine's Day.” You sigh, leaning against the door of the car, looking out at the city as it passes you by. 

The rest of the car ride home is deadly silent. Neither of you even bothered to put on the radio or Spotify. It’s awkward but you refuse to give an inch and apparently, Atsumu feels the same way. You sneak a glance at him as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment, seeing he looks exhausted. How hadn’t you noticed that before? 

Maybe you should give in, you think to yourself. Before you left you had been snippy with him, even if you felt like he was trying to get you to not visit home. It’s stupid, how high your temper can run without stopping over little things like silly comments. You hadn’t even thought about it while you were gone, only focused on visiting and getting back here; home. 

Atsumu parks the car, and you look over at him again. His knuckles are still white from gripping the steering wheel. 

“Let’s not fight anymore.” You suggest softly, knowing his stubbornness won’t let him give in. This could be worse than the Cold War if you let it continue. 

He sighs, his hand reaching up to his forehead. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair, pushing it back from his face. “It’s been hell. These last two weeks, absolutely agonizing.” He admits, leaning back against the seat and looking over at you. 

“I’m sorry, Tsumu, I didn’t know.” You tell him, reaching out and taking his hand. 

“Wanna know something funny, though?” He smiles, the silly grin you love so much. 

“Sure,” you squeeze his hand softly. 

“I kept dreaming about fucking you, I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He laughs, tilting his head back and looking at the roof of the car. “God, I even came a few times in my sleep. Can you believe it?” 

“Oh god,” you laugh with him, imagining the way he must have been mortified waking up to that not only once, but a few times. “Maybe we can make up for it after dinner tonight.” 

“Dinner?” He looks confused as you nod. 

“It’s still Valentine’s day. It’s not too late for us to get ready and go out. I can be fast,” you open the door and get out of the car. 

Atsume follows, popping the trunk and getting your luggage from the car. You're quiet again as you take the elevator up to the apartment, but not the awkward kind as you rode in during the trip home. You hold his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder when you can until you’re out of the elevator and making your way to the apartment. 

The next bit is a rush, playing out in front of you like it’s not real. Maybe it’s jetlag? You had just traveled for upwards of 18 hours. Or it’s the rush of knowing after weeks you’re finally going to sleep with your boyfriend again? Not even the dirty kind, just the excitement of sharing a bed, your bed, is exciting after weeks of sleeping in the guestroom of your parent's house. 

After your shower, you dress in an emerald green dress that has a golden sheen to the fabric. Underneath, you made sure to pick out Atusmu’s favorite pair of lingerie underneath a honey gold set with thigh straps attached to the thong. 

“Holy shit,” Atsumu leans against the door frame of the bathroom as you’re applying your last coat of mascara. 

You smile sweetly, turning to look at him. He’s dressed in navy blue slacks and a cream button-up shirt. “I’m ready to go.” 

Atsumu pulls you by your hand into him, wrapping his other arm around you. “I’m not.” 

He kisses you, pulling you closer against him so you’re flush with his body. Your dress rides up in his hand, exposing your ass. He smacks it once, making you yelp against his lips. He laughs deeply. 

“There’s no way we’re making it out tonight.” He mumbles, his voice gruff. 

You giggle as he pulls away, pulling you with him and pushing you against the bed. Your dress has now risen above your pelvis, bunched up underneath and around you. Atsumu takes one look and groans, smiling wildly at you. 

“You fucking angel,” he drops to his knees in front of you. He licks you over the fabric of your thong, sending shivers down your spine in anticipation. “Would it be stupid if I told you you taste sweeter than honey?” 

You laugh, sitting up on your elbows. “Yeah, a little. But I like it.” 

He grins at you from between your thighs. His tongue pokes out again, slowly circling the fabric over your clit. The teasing pressure is too much, you want his tongue on you. Whining, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and he pulls back. 

“Ah ah ah, no rushing this. I’ve literally been dreaming of it for weeks.” He says after pulling away and lying his face on your thigh. He looks ungodly pretty like this, and you hate him for it. 

“Please, Atsumu I need you.” You whine, pouting your lip out. 

He grins again. He loves seeing you beg, even when it’s as half-assed as that. You can’t be expected to give more though, after all the day is starting to wear on you. 

He pulls the thong aside and drags his finger down your cunt, covering it in your wetness. “Fuck, you’re so needy.” 

You nod, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall back against the bed. As you bounce lightly against the mattress, Atsumu takes advantage, pressing his tongue against your clit. You moan, gripping the sheets and forcing yourself to stay still. 

He sucks lightly, sending waves of pleasure from your spine to your toes. 

“Fuck me,” you whimper, eyes fluttering open to watch him as he eats you out. He doesn't notice, too lost in you to care about what else is going on. His tongue slides down, teasing your entrance when you feel his fingers slip in. 

The stretch overwhelms you. You can't keep your eyes open now, closing them tight as he starts to finger fuck you while sucking your clit again. 

“Tsumu, of god,” you mumble out with moans traced between words and syllables. 

Gripping the bedding harder, you fight back the overwhelming urge to cum now. You hadn’t even masturbated while you were gone, and now it’s so much at once you’re struggling to stay afloat. Atsumu must know, the way he flicks his tongue and twists his fingers in sync sends you over and you cry out. Cumming you can’t help but arch your back and press your cunt further against Atsumu’s pretty face. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant quietly, trying to regain some composure after the waves of pleasure start to roll off you. 

“Oh, Angel, you barely lasted five minutes.” He crawls on top of you, his face shiny from being between your thighs. He kisses you softly on the lips. 

“Who can blame me?” You laugh, taking his face in your hands. You kiss him again, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion taking over your body. “I doubt you’ll last much longer.” 

You push him off you, flipping positions. 

You pray he cums quickly as you pull his pants down his thighs. Not for any normal reasons but you’re not sure you can stay awake much longer. The eager look on his face suggests you might not have to.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 56]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

Time skip: 8 months...

"Indigo!" Yoojin catches you in the hallway as you were heading to your studio. You stopped and turned around to face her as you blinked in confusion. Seeing you, Yoojin burst out laughing, resting her hands on her knees.

"Why are you balancing 3 coffee cups?! Here, let me help you." She giggled, taking one coffee cup in each hand.

"I left my mug in the studio and the cups at the cafe are too small. I didn't want to make multiple trips to I ordered 3 at one go." You explained to her.

"You're so amusing, Indigo." She continued to laugh. You rolled your eyes and walked to your studio with her in tow.

"I'm guessing you yelling out my name didn't have anything to do with my coffee cups?" You raised an eyebrow at her as you walked.

"Oh yeah! Ateez is coming later today and we wanted you to show them around since you've worked with them before." She informed you. You cleared your throat.

"I didn't even know they were in town." You lied. You knew Ateez was in America, you got messages from Jongho and Seonghwa about it. They even sent you concert tickets with backstage passes.

"Are they working with HYBE?"

"They're coming to work with some content creators." She shrugged, following you into the studio. She set the coffee cups down on the desk while you poured all the contents into your regular big coffee tumbler. After spending six months with you, Yoojin was a lot more open and comfortable around you.

"The production team got some tickets for their concert tomorrow. You should go support them!" She said.

"I'm not sure... With my schedule and all..." You told her.

"You're always busy, Indigo. You need to let loose a little and live!" She slapped your shoulder. You rolled your eyes yet again and sipped your coffee, moving to your desk.

"So we're entrusting them to you later, okay? You're the new superstar of HYBE!"

"It might not be a good idea, Yoojin." You sighed. She tilted her head in confusion, not understanding what you meant.

"Think about it. I left KQ to join HYBE. I was their producer before I came here for a bigger, better opprtunity. You get where I'm going with this?" You explained. It took her a while before she nodded her head slowly, her mouth forming an 'o' shape.

"But you're still friends right? It'll be fine. They would understand why you did what you did." She assured. Honestly, you knew that they did understand, that's why you didn't want to face them.

"I don't know..."

"See how you feel! They'll be coming at 3 and will be in the shooting studios after." She said.

"Why don't you just do it, Yoojin? You're the relations person, you're better at this stuff than me. Plus, I have a meeting later and I don't want to rush." You persuaded.

"Fine. Only because you have a meeting." She shot you a glare before patting your head and leaving your studio to let you get back to work.

You were contemplating going for the concert since you knew Haneul would want to see them, you've been thinking about it since the tickets were mailed to you. You would set aside your feelings for her, since you unfairly took her out of Korea and made her move with you to a new country, away from them.

'We're going to HYBE later to use the filming space. Just letting you know if you don't want to run into us. Are you working at the office today? - Seonghwa'

'I am. My colleague just told me. I have a meeting so I probably won't run into you guys. But thanks for the heads up. - Indigo'

You have only recently established contact with Seonghwa again. Luckily, he played it cool and just spoke to you regularly, not even bringing up the rest of the members in your conversations.

"Ah, whatever." You weren't going to harp on it for now. You needed to get ready for your meeting.

Seonghwa sat in the car, chewing on his thumbnail in worry. HYBE America was big, the chances of you running into each other was slim right?

"Seonghwa hyung? Are you okay?" San blinked in confusion, seeing the oldest act nervous.

"Yeah. My vocal warm up didn't go too well this morning so I'm worried my voice cracks." He lied. Jongho handed the oldest his bottle of lemon water for his throat. The relationship between Ateez was still in recovery. More like, they had to set aside their feelings to continue to work together harmoniously. Within the 8 months, the company also moved them to live in separate dorms.

Needless to say, his relationship with Hongjoong was still a work in progress. But Hongjoong was mature, he knew he needed Seonghwa and as the two oldest, they needed to make up somehow.

"We're here." The managers stopped in the carpark and the boys got off. They walked in together.

"Hello Ateez. Welcome to HYBE America. I'm Yoojin, it's nice to meet you all." Yoojin bowed as she greeted the 8 boys at the door.

"We look forward to working together. Thank you for taking care of us." Ateez bowed to her. She chuckled, having missed the Korean hospitality while in America.

"Follow me. I'll take you guys to the filming area." Yoojin waved for them to follow her into the building.

"Sorry, do you guys have a place we can get some coffee?" Wooyoung asked. Yoojin nodded and brought them to the cafe on the first floor. The boys entered the cafe space to buy some coffee. As they were patiently waiting for their turn in the queue, the person at the counter was on the phone.

"Mmm, I'm buying coffee... Well, I wouldn't be late if you had come down to pick me... I forgot my pass at the hotel, okay? I'll buy you a coffee." The male chuckled.

"That kind of looks like EL CAPITXN." Yunho leaned down and whispered to Hongjoong.

"It is... I guess it's not surprising to see him here since he's in Big Hit." Hongjoong shrugged, turning back to the menu board.

"Iced Americano for me, hyung. I need to use the bathroom." Mingi ordered. With Yoojin's directions, Mingi went to use the bathroom since the drive here was so long, he couldn't wait anymore.

"This building is seriously so big." Mingi said in awe as he exited the bathroom and walked back to the cafe where the others were waiting for him.

"There she is." Mingi heard EL CAPITXN cheer and greet someone.

"You're too loud, Yijeong." Mingi's eyes widened at the familiar voice. It made his heart stop as he whipped his head around. He watched the producer sling his arm around someone, who jabbed his side to let him go, but Mingi could only see the backs of their heads.

"I flew all the way here to see you AND I bought you coffee, you could be nicer to me." The male complained.

"You should buy me coffee since you're late. Come on, we're wasting time." The person with him snatched the coffee and walked with him to the lifts.

"I told you I left my employee pass in the hotel. And the security won't give me another one." Mingi watched the person took EL CAPITXN or Yijeong through the secure gate.

"Mingi? We were waiting for you." Hongjoong frowned when he saw the taller just standing there, staring into space.

"What's wrong?" The captain asked.

"I... Nothing, I think I just need coffee to wake myself up." Mingi shook his head. Yunho handed Mingi his iced americano and he took a sip.

"Alright, let's go." Yoojin smiled and led them to the filming space. Mingi knew he needed to focus, his mind was playing tricks on him or he was too sleep deprived from the jetlag that he thought he heard you. There was a slim chance since he knew you were in America but was that really you with Yijeong?

"Okay, so this will be the filming space that you're using." Yoojin said to them, walking into the big space.

"Thank you." They bowed gratefully to her. She bowed back and waved to them before leaving. Hongjoong gestured for them to stand in a row.

"8 makes 1 team! Nice to meet you." They all greeted the film staff and the MC in the room. Hongjoong and San did most of the talking since they were fluent in English.

"This is the brief for the filming and how to programme will go. Feel free to ask any questions." The assistant director handed them notes.

"Thank you." They took a few minutes to flip through the pages. Thankfully, they were printed in Korean.

"If you're ready, we can start." The manager told them. With their game faces on, they put the notes aside and walked onto the set, getting into the seats to begin filming.

Yijeong was in America to work with some artists here at song camp and with you. Despite the two of you chatting online and meeting occasionally over the past 8 months when he popped over to America, you've never actually physically worked together before.

"The jetlag is a killer." He said as he leaned back in the couch. You snorted and drank the coffee he bought you.

"Are you here to sleep or work with me?" You asked.

"Geez, you're so fierce." He groaned. In a way, you've grown to become good friends with him. He was chaotic and playful but someone you got along with well.

"When they told me they were planning for a trap piece, I knew I was doomed." You complained.

"That's why you have to gain more experience by accepting more trap pieces. Don't worry, I'll help you out." He came to sit with you.

"Also, I saw Ateez downstairs. Did you know they were coming or that they were here?" He asked as he set up his laptop next to your keyboard on the desk.

"I knew. Yoojin told me earlier." You hummed.

"No ill feelings?" He side eyed you. You shrugged, showing your indifference. While you were both friends and have gotten closer, you still wouldn't tell him about your time with Ateez or anyone for that matter. That was between you and the Ateez boys only, and you would like to keep it that way.

As expected, your time with Yijeong was very productive. He was a good teacher and you picked up on things quickly, even if the style of music wasn't something you were used to.

"I have to go or I'll be late again." Yijeong said as he packed up.

"I'll walk you down and get another coffee." You told him and stretched your arms over your head.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear the last part about coffee and only acknowledge that you said you'll walk me down." He winked, making you roll your eyes.

"You've got your Uber?" You asked, peeking over to look at his phone. He nodded, showing you the map.

"So, when are you coming back to work with the team in Korea?" Yijeong teased, putting his arm around your shoulder.

"I already told you I don't know. I have projects here too." You crossed your arms and tried to shrug him off. He chuckled, lightly knocking his head against yours playfully.

"I promise to take very good care of you when you come back. The kiddo too." Yijeong smirked. You've learnt or realised that this was just how Yijeong was, he would playfully flirt with you this way. But he was harmless.

"You're annoying, you know that?" You clicked your tongue as you stepped out of the lift.

"But you still love me." He cooed, trying to pinch your cheek but you slapped his hand away, adjusting the mask.

"Can you just leave already?" You pushed him away. He shook his head and glued himself to your side even more, knowing it would rile you up.

"Next time you come, don't forget your employee pass. I'm not going to come pick you up anymore. I'd rather let you stay down here and suffer." You scolded. He held his head in feign hurt.

"I don't know if anyone has ever told you but you're a terrible friend, Indigo ah." He ruffled your hair.

"I told you not to do that." You slapped his arm.

"Okay! Okay! Just stop hitting me." He shielded his face. When he saw that his Uber was pulling up, Yijeong hugged you goodbye. With a sigh, you did wrap your arms around him to reciprocate the hug. You predicted it but he did squish you, even lifting you off your feet. He put his hand on your head.

"Be good, Indigo." He cooed, the playful glint in his eyes as he lightly shook your head.

"Bye." You shoved him towards the car. But even as he got in and the car was driving away, you stood there and waved to him. Letting out a tired sigh, you turned around to walk back.

But when you looked up, you froze, seeing 8 pairs of eyes stare back at you. The noise of your surroundings faded into nothingness and all you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears.

It was deafening.

How were you supposed to react? What were you supposed to say? Do you acknowledge them? You couldn't breathe.

"Indigo." Hongjoong spoke first. Your eyes immediately moved down, you didn't want to meet any of their eyes, you didn't want to risk meeting Mingi's eyes.

Every defence you've built up in the past 8 months started to crumble down. You felt so small and you wanted to run away from them, to cower and cry in a corner like a coward.

"Indigo! There you are!" Yoojin appeared, calling to you. You took a deep breath to collect yourself, wiping away any tears that may have fallen with the end of your hoodie sleeves. The mask was able to hide any other emotion you showed.

"Looks like you've already had your reunion. Did you say hi?" She asked as she looked between you and Ateez. You nodded stiffly.

"How was your meeting with Yijeong?" She tilted her head.

"It was good. I'm gonna go, I need to pick Haneul." You told her softly. She blinked, a little puzzled by your demeanour but nodded. You awkwardly bowed to Ateez and ran off.

"Oh, gosh." The moment you entered your studio, you slid down against the door, ripping the mask away.

You leaned your forehead against the heels of your palms as you tried to catch your breath, all this between the choked sobs that bubbled up your throat.

How were you going to bring Haneul to their concert if you couldn't even look at them for a few seconds without breaking down?

It should be fine, now that they know the truth behind you leaving. There shouldn't be ill feelings. But why were you frozen? Why did panic and anxiety fill you when you saw them? You thought you would be better prepared for the conversation that you were bound to have with them.

After all, you couldn't run forever. But all your head told you to do was to run away. You weren't afraid of them, you were afraid of reconnecting with them. Because what happens next?

You've worked hard to settle down here, to build a routine for yourself and Haneul in this new life.

Even if you did reconcile with them, you knew things would never be the same. You weren't ready to go back to that life yet.

Your plan was to stay here for 2 years at least before going back to Korea, to be able to let go of everything and leave what happened in the past, as a part of your memories.

Your wounds were still fresh. You knew, all Mingi had to do was ask and you would pack up to move back to Korea with him.

You were that weak, that vulnerable, you missed him too much. Your heart felt empty, your bed felt cold, your life felt incomplete. Because you knew deep down, Mingi was your home.

-

Meanwhile, Mingi couldn't believe it. So he wasn't hallucinating earlier, it was really you. Even if you didn't look directly at him, the way you stared at them in shock made his chest tightened. Just hearing your voice made his heart swoon again. For that short moment, he tried to take you in.

You've definitely lost weight. You looked a lot more tired but you hid it behind a gentle demeanour when you spoke to Yoojin. Your hair was now kept at shoulder length with wisps of purple carding through.

"Ah, that's Indigo. Always busy running around. Anyway, thank you for coming. We'll see you at the concert tomorrow." Yoojin smiled.

"Of course. Thank you and we hope you and the team enjoy the concert tomorrow." Hongjoong replied and reached out to shake her hand.

"If you'll excuse me." Yoojin bowed and walked away first to attend to other business matters.

"Mingi." Yunho shook his best friend.

"T-That was her, right? I haven't actually lost it." Mingi let out a bitter chuckle. Yunho nodded his head in confirmation.

But his heart lurched at the look at you gave them. You looked at them like they were monsters, people that you should be afraid of, people you want to run from. Mingi had clutched onto the side of his pants to prevent himself from going over to hug you.

He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you he's sorry and that he didn't mean what he said. He wanted to tell you that he still loved you. He wanted to apologise for not protecting you like he should.

"Let's go collect ourselves somewhere else." Hongjoong said knowing he couldn't let himself get affected in public as the leader of Ateez.

"Yeah." Seonghwa nodded in agreement. The two oldest moved everyone down to the vans.

The ride back to the hotel was pin-drop silence. Everyone was still processing what happened and what they saw. They all gathered in Hongjoong's room, away from their managers.

"So Indigo is in HYBE now." San spoke first.

"She looked so scared of us..." Wooyoung said sadly. Mingi nodded in agreement, his head hanging low. He didn't know what to say. What was he supposed to say?

"Seonghwa hyung and I invited her and Haneul to our show tomorrow, we sent her tickets. But she hasn't told us if she would be coming or not." Jongho said first, in case the others got upset that they didn't tell them about knowing you worked at HYBE. Seonghwa nodded in confirmation.

"Let's not push her to come. But if she does, let's prepare ourselves to talk to her." Hongjoong said.

"What are we supposed to say, hyung?" Yeosang asked.

"I don't know, Yeosang. I'm barely figuring this out myself. She belongs at KQ with us." Hongjoong groaned in frustration, scratching his head.

"I agree." San replied. The others nodded, all except Yunho. He didn't know if he was supposed to want you to come back, not when he saw what Mingi went through after you left.

"Okay, we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. Our aim is to talk things out tomorrow." Seonghwa said.

~

Series Masterlist

[drippingmoon]

Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k 

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me. 

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots. 

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly. 

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

[igglemouse]

The morning light pulls me from my sleep as the headache reminds me that I've probably had a little too much to drink but not too much to have forgotten about yesterday.

The room around me is bland and simple, a space that's mine but one can hardly tell with how impersonal it is right now. It might as well be a hotel room.

Still I am thankful. I do miss home, deeply, but at the same time I realize I can't go back and that here, Oasis Springs, isn't so bad. My father, a man I don't enjoy mentioning as he is a horrible person and yet for some reason he's done me this kindness.

I wanted to deny this, to say no to this simple bit of fortune, but that would have left me as prey among wolves...

The kitchen is my sanctuary. Despite waking up with darker thoughts the moment the mixer starts mixing a smile forms on my face. Ideas push into my mind about how to give my waffles a bit more kick but not only that, what else can I sell for my food stand?

Just the act of cooking is meditative for me. It's ancient alchemy you know? Our ancestors would just stuff whatever they found in their mouths and might throw it over a fire but how far have we come from those times?

I am surrounded by modernity. Bottles of sauces and jars of spices. Each honed over the decades to add texture, flavor, and aroma, making this all a science not only to enhance taste but also to tickle the soul.

Making simoleons however is not so much a science. I started earlier in the day which might have hurt me because in the end only forty simoleons were made. I could say that this was the worst day ever but then again forty is better than four.

Perhaps there is a secret to it, finding the right time, the right dishes, the sweet spot? I don't know. All I can do is pack up and try again tomorrow.

The day's light fades and with it the realization that expectations were not met. Again. This whole food stand business has really been a story of ups and downs and while I'm sure I can take it, it doesn't make the process any less frustrating.

I sink into the cushion of my couch, flip on my TV, and spend some time wondering what can be done to be a lot more consistent. Improving my skills obviously, the better the food tastes the more likely people come back over and over again. Skill will come with time, practice, and patience.

Perhaps its my marketability that is lacking? Watching commercials is a reminder that sometimes a good advertisement campaign is all a product or service needs to make simoleons.

An insistent knock at the door breaks up my thinking. That's right, I do have an expected guest today...

Of course my visitor is the increasingly familiar face of Pascal of of course I step aside and invite him inside. He takes a moment to take in my small place, the hint of being impressed on his face but its only a hint because he opts not to say anything other than to ask if he might sit.

There isn't much here, a couch, a table, and a bed. My only income is my food stand and that's not at all reliable yet and so the dining table seems as good a spot for a conversation as any.

"So, what's up?" I ask, suddenly feeling nervous, even more so than my conversation with him yesterday? How does that happen? I guess because then I thought he was just some random handsome guy and now I know that he's very ambitious and might just be the most eligible bachelor in town.

"Dunno, just wanted to see you again is all," he says casually but still looks around some. "You have a nice place."

"Gracias," it's then I take a small breath and calm myself. He's here, isn't he? He doesn't have to be and yet he is. The attraction is mutual, I assure myself, so I should act like it.

"Flower Day is tomorrow," he mentions, as if that has some meaning to me. It doesn't, not really. I've always thought of it more as a filler holiday. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to do something together?"

"A date?"

He chuckles. "I guess you can call it that, yeah."

There's a lot of confidence in his offer as if it is a formality itself, he expects a yes, and I plan to give him one but only after one question is answered. "Why me?"

"Why you?" This catches him off guard. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have a lack of options, I am sure, so what makes me stand out from the others?"

This draws another laugh and a look my way as if I have asked a silly question. I suppose I'm just not used to seeing the worth in myself. I mean eventually I figured I'd find love and settle down and start a family but I certainly didn't come to Oasis Springs with that in mind. It was more like I was pushed out into the desert and forced to survive. Any friendly travelers I meet on the way would be appreciated but not necessary, never necessary.

"You're humble," he says breaking a silence between us I wasn't aware of until his voice made it apparent. "A lot of the women that approach me or vice versa expect it all and its clear that they only see my ambition, not me. They make me feel like I'd be the supporting character in their story and nothing else."

"There is nothing wrong with being a supporting character-"

"But mainly, I want a woman who is prepared for failure."

"Failure?"

He leans in just a little, taking the measure of me, seeking eye contact as if it was all he needed from me. "If I break my leg in three places would you still be with me?"

"I-I didn't even know you played for a pro team!" I say jokingly but also defensively.

"Exactly!" He says with some satisfaction. "So, tomorrow? Date?"

I push out a breath and give my head a nod. Before, the answer would have been yes but now? Yes? I'm a little less sure, this conversation felt more like a try out than just two people getting to know each other. "Yeah, sure, let's see what happens."

Episode List - Next

[ftmshepard]

Bumbleby Week Day #2-Jock/Nerd AU

They’d been working on the set for Beacon High’s production of Into the Woods for three hours now, and it was nowhere close to done. Dr. August Augustus and Bob, the music and drama teachers respectively, had grand visions for the set and none of the budget, so while there were some other actual theater professionals working on the set–Weiss’s older sister Winter, and Ruby's uncle Qrow--most of the manual labor was being done by the student cast and crew. 

Which was fine! It wasn't like Blake was weak, or anything. But it was still pretty physically demanding, and she wasn't even doing most of the lifting. 

“Hey.” 

Blake nearly tripped over her own feet from surprise. She hadn’t noticed Yang’s approach at all, something she was willing to chalk up to exhaustion but which still wasn’t a great look. “Hey Yang,” Blake said, trying her best not to yawn as she spoke. “Sorry, I forgot you said you’d pick me up. We might be here a while, there’s still a lot of work left to do.” She shifted her body slightly to hide Weiss, who was curled up around Qrow’s teddy bear, dead asleep. 

“Can I help?” Yang asked. “You need people to lift stuff, right, I help dad with DIY all the time.” It was the middle of winter, so she was wearing a bright yellow sweater over her school sports uniform, but it didn’t do much to hide the shape of her arms. 

“Uh, yes,” Blake said, hoping that her blush wasn’t too obvious. “Wait, I have to check with–”

“Yes, thank you,” Qrow yelled down from Repunzel’s tower. “Weiss, go home.” 

Weiss woke up with a start. “But–”

“Don’t argue, I don’t want you falling asleep in class tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” Yang said. “Where do I start?” 

Blake smiled. This was still going to be difficult, annoying work, but now that Yang was here, she was already certain it would be so much easier. 

[neptoons1998]

Stay with me Tonight

Summary: Margo needs a night to rest.

TW: Panic attack and Parents yelling at each other

A/N: Here's the first one. I might post the rest tomorrow.

Tag Gang: @mal-urameshi @somethingcleaverandwhitty @pantherheart

Margo couldn’t handle it. She was at her breaking point. Her parents were having another screaming match again. Normally she could tune it out whether that was playing her video games or helping lead the going home machine at the Spider Society.  She knew her home life wasn’t perfect. She would get sad looks from Jess, Gwen, and strangely enough Miguel. Even though his rough exterior he was soft and gooey to her. Especially when she lingers around the hive, praying that he wouldn’t ask why she doesn’t go home.   

But She couldn’t tonight. 

“THAT’S IT I’M DONE!” her mom screamed. Margo heard a vase breaking on the nearby wall.

“THE HELL YOU ARE!” her father’s voice boomed in the house. Margo could hear a shuffle between the pair. Margo’s chest tightens from the aggression between her parents. Margo felt dizzy as she reached for her watch. She needs to get out of here Margo thought as she pushed her button. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going 42 universe.

 Margo lay in a fetal position the sharp raindrops touched her cheeks as she tried to calm herself. Get a grip, Margo! She thought as her chest continued to tighten.  A couple of minutes pass and Margo could breathe again. She looked around at the buildings that surround her. Where was she?

“Why are you here?” Miles said. Normally she could handle his rough around the edges. Right now she was barely holding herself together. She could feel the tears slowly starting to form and wanting to spill over her cheeks. Margo wanted to refuse them, she couldn’t look like a crybaby to the guy she liked. 

“Nevermind, I’m going home,“ Margo said simply quickly turning away from him. Before she could get too far away from him. Miles wrapped his hand around her wrist Margo turn to look at him.

“T-that came out wrong,” Miles groan to himself, “What I meant was-arg Let me do your hair.”

“My hair?” Margo repeated letting Miles lead the pair off the roof. Margo looked around skyscrapers reminding her of her own whenever she venture out of her room. 

 Miles nodded, “Yea, you look stressed, Cielito.”

“Okay,” Margo said. If anything she would’ve agreed to it anyway. She didn’t want to go home, at least for right now. 

I have a girl in my room, Miles thought. The teen tried to look unfazed by Margo looking around his room. She stood nearby some of the collectible figures he bought when he went to Comic-Con with his dad, before everything his life changed.  Miles inwardly screamed to himself why was he such a nerd. 

“Nice stuff,” Margo stated as she pointed at the miniature Gundam figure that was placed on his bookshelf.  Miles pulled out his combs and gel, he was trying to use his extra energy to place his products on his desk.  

“Thanks,” Miles said stiffly as he patted on the chair. Margo sat down in the chair, Margo could feel Miles’ fingers undoing her two flat twists. Margo couldn’t help but lend into Miles’ hands as he gently massage her scalp. 

“Are you ready to tell me why are you here?” Miles whispered out to her. Margo felt the slight tug of the comb.

“Parents were fighting again,” Margo said sheepishly, “I wanted to be out. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going until now.”

“No wonder why you had a confused look on your face,” Miles commented as Margo felt the edge of the comb parting her hair. The pair were silent for a while as Miles was consumed with his work. Margo was enjoying that someone else was doing her hair instead of it herself. 

“I’m glad I came to your universe,” Margo commented as she felt a smile tugging on her lips. Miles looked at her, and before she could figure out his emotion he pushed a mirror in her face, “Here what do you think?”

Margo gave a surprised  gasped, “This is great. I love it.”

“Stop lying,” Miles said rolling his eyes. Margo pulled up from the mirror as she touched his arm; causing the teen to feel butterflies in his stomach.

“No really. I love it,” Margo said earnestly, “Thanks.”

 Miles had to quickly look away from her before he did something stupid, “Yea no problem, Cielito.”

“Hmm,” Margo said contently before she looked at her watch, “I think they finally calm down, so I should probably leave.”

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” Miles replies. Oh my god shut up, me!

“What?” Margo questioned as she lends a bit closer to Miles, “No they would notice that I’m gone for too long. Thanks though.”

With that, she tapped on the watch to make a portal for her to go home. Miles bit his lip before he let words tumble out of his mouth, “If becomes too much again, Margo... You’re safe here.”

Margo could feel tears starting to form again, God when did I become such a crybaby? Before she went to the portal she placed a kiss on Miles’ cheek, “Thanks, Miles.”

When the portal closed, Miles lay on his bed shocked at what had happened in the span of a couple of hours between them, “She kissed me…”

Butterflies in his stomach fluttered once more. 

[ryloriee678999]

Bittersweet (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Summary: you give your girlfriend one last call. (804 words)

Warning: major character death and stab wounds. 

Weakly you grab your phone to call Natasha. You smile when there's a bar of signal, it was lucky though because you’re in the middle of nowhere on some bench. 

You can't quite remember her number right now so you click on her contact, briefly smiling at the photo of her you saw every time you called her. You hold the phone up to your ear, your elbow right above the deep laceration slashed across your torso. The brightness from your phone is the only beam of light besides the one lamp post across from you. Everything else was pitch black.

911 wouldn't come in time and where you settled is like a ghost town. No one was around to see you bleed out and no one would come. So instead, you call your girlfriend in hopes to hear her voice one last time.

 The phone stops ringing shortly after, you barely notice. You didn't think she would pick up since it’s about 2 in the morning but she did.

“Hello?” She says. You can hear the tiredness and confusion in her voice. If it wasn't for the pain that filled your body, you might have felt bad about waking her up. “Hey,” you greet, as cheerfully as you can sound. It only dawns on you now how painful this is. 

Natasha sits up right away at the sound of your voice. The mission was non-contact so she was surprised that you were calling her. “Baby is that you? Is everything okay? How's the mission?.” You could hear how desperate she sounded.

“I just wanted to call, see how everything is, I miss you,” you respond, purposely ignoring her questions. It was hard for you to lie to her.

“I miss you too,” she sighs. “But you’re back tomorrow, right?”

You bite your lip to hide a whimper, another gush of blood stains your shirt. “Sorry, I still have a few things to tie up.” You were dying. “I think it will be a few more days.”

You knew Natasha was frowning, it made your heart clench She hated when you went away no matter how short. The mission was only supposed to last a few days and you should be coming home tomorrow if it wasn’t for the complication you faced. “So how’s everything back home?” You ask, just wanting her to hear her speak.

“Same shit as always. Training, paperwork, but I talked to Wanda and…” she continues on. For a second you bring the phone away from your ear to adjust the sweater that is wrapped around your body. It failed to compress the wound so you tightened it further with a grunt.

When you brought the phone back to your ear you heard her still rambling, something about a party. “Is everything okay?” She asks, her voice going from happy to concern in an instant. She must've heard you.

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe, hurts like a bitch,” you laugh. “ Anyway, what was that about a party?”

“Well Tony is holding something to launch his new products and he wants everyone there,” she explains, making it sound worse than it really is. “We should go.”

You feel yourself smile a little, “are you asking me out?” You tease, but feel yourself getting weaker right after. Even though it's the middle of summer, you feel so cold. You’d much rather be in her arms right now.

“Shut up, never mind.” You can visualize her rolling her eyes, wishing you were in bed next to her. “So are you coming with me?” she asks after a pause

You space out, her voice almost sounds like it's underwater. The only thing bringing you back is another sharp sting that felt like getting stabbed all over again. 

“lyubov? You there?” 

“Yeah I'm just tired, of course I’ll go with you,” you say. It would be a little far to say you’d rather die than go, but I guess that's the reality. “Why don't you go to sleep?” She suggested. “You have more stuff to do tomorrow, I don't want you doing it exhausted.” 

“Okay,” you mumble, fighting your eyes awake as black dots start to show up in your vision.  “I’ll see you soon. be safe, okay?”

“Yeah,” you pause for a second, thinking about what final words to say to her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she responds with a smile. 

Your hands drop to your sides, letting your phone hit the ground as tears swell up in your eyes. You’re not afraid of dying, it was saying goodbye that was hard. You didn't have to think about it for too long though, your head started to go blank and all your pain numbed. 

You must have forgotten to hang up the phone because right before everything ends, you hear your girlfriend say her last words to you. “Goodnight, love.”

[toomuchracket]

do you think d!word girlie is all into her wellness and working out? idk, I picture her as being really into her skincare and pilates etc when she has the time? and maybe she works out with matty sometimes, like maybe she introduces him to some skincare products, or when she’s out he uses some of her bath salts or moisturisers because they smell like her <3

anything to decrease the stress of your job, you're into lmao. i don't think you're necessarily at the gym every day, maybe a couple of times a week when you can, but i see you as being a fan of a daily youtube yoga/pilates/morning and evening stretches (sidenote these are actually p good) sesh. i'm sure i saw someone say on here that doing yoga in matty's house would be so good because it's so calm - that's one of the first things you say when you go over there for the first time for drinks with everyone, and matty chokes on his wine at the thought of you a) casually being in his house, b) casually being in his house in workout gear, and c) casually being in his house in workout gear stretching your body out. and then he feels guilty for thinking that. but he's like "well you can test that theory out whenever you want lol", and you just giggle but internally you spiral a lil bit. you do try it, though, once you start dating, and after matty does his "obligatory boyfriend ogling bit" (his words) he actually joins in; in return, you go to jiu jitsu with him a couple of times, but as we've seen from previous blurbs you're both far too competitive and far too horny to actually progress with it lmfao. the "too horny" thing is also why you and matty only go to the gym together on tour when there's no real other option - he's been yelled at by his pt too many times for looking at you do a spin workout or squats instead of doing his own workouts lmao (and you're no better, staring at him with obvious lust as he does literally anything all sweaty and breathless). but aside from that, you both like going for walks and hiking and stuff, so you do that together with no issues lol.

and skincare/beauty/wellness... let's just say, you are a woman on a decent pay grade (i know they're skint. but this is fiction! either way, i suppose, you have a simpy rich boyf who likes spoiling you, so you have Funds lol) with a space nk loyalty card, and by god do you use it to buy some fancy moisturisers and makeup and fragrance. but also you're a boots girly who loves a garnier sheet mask. duality! i think matty learned about your interest in it pretty quickly - thinking one of your earlier dates as an exclusive couple in a central london restaurant was interrupted by you getting a notification that your click and collect space nk order was in, and you were like "oh i'll pick that up tomorrow", and matty was like "babe we can get it when we leave here lol we might as well if we're nearby". once you collected the order (while you queued, matty test-sprayed all of the perfumes to find out which one you wore so he could buy you it for your birthday lmao) and the two of you were settled with a drink in a nearby bar, matty was like "so. what did you get?" and literally made you do an unboxing for him lmfao; he was so cute, though, genuinely interested in what you were saying about your purchases and asking questions and smelling the body lotions and whatever. you actually bought him a little travel size version of a lotion he loved the scent of, but ever since you guys started properly dating and staying with each other he just steals yours lol. but you don't mind, because he has a really nice shower gel that you always use when you're at his, so it balances out. like you said, it's a comfort thing - you both use each other's things (and the bath salts you reserve for when the two of you have romantic baths together) because they smell like them, and it makes you feel safe. it's the same with you guys and evening skincare, you and matty just love the little rituals you share and time you spend together every night you're both in the same place, and it just feels so cosy and comforting and domestic and sweet <3

[alpaca-clouds]

Media in a Solarpunk world

Yeah, there is a reason I spoke about Indie games yesterday. Because I want to speak about this one thing that I have never ever seen discussed within the solarpunk sphere.

If we established a Solarpunk world, how would it change our media landscape?

Confused? Well, let me break it down.

Solarpunk is only possible without capitalism. It is simply as it is. We will not established the "sustainable living" under capitalism. We can now discuss on whether to go socialism or communism, but... yeah. No more capitalism.

But here is where the media comes in: Most media we consume right now is released through big coorporate media outlets. This is especially true for stuff like games and movies. AAA games and blockbuster movies with their budgets of hundreds of millions and teams of thousands working behind them getting distributed through other big companies at times making billions of dollars... Even most books or comics or audiobooks or even podcasts get published and distributed through companies being valued in the hundreds of millions at least. Because the attention economy is set up in the way that you have no chance if you do not have your books on amazon and your podcasts not on spotify or itunes.

And without capitalism all of that will fall away.

This will be of course most noticable with movies and games. Again, the most popular of those will have hundreds of millions in budget and are dependent on the crunch work of thousands of people on every way of the step. And of course there is this big studio system right now deciding on what gets created.

But without capitalism... You will probably not motivate thousands of people to crunch the hell out of something. Hundreds of people? Sure. Thousands? No. Not even without the crunch. Because the current system of creating this media is not sustainable. Not from a human perspective - and not from an environmental perspective.

What I am saying is... There will probably no longer be high fidelity blockbusters or the kind of huge TV productions we have seen since Game of Thrones.

And I am here to tell you... that is actually a good thing.

See, in the gaming sphere we actually see it already. There are Indie Games that are at times created on a shoestring budget of a couple of thousand dollars. And because we have some great platforms to distribute them easily with steam and itch.io, people will actually see those games and play them. Might actually end up prefering them to the big ass million dollar games.

Now, the system is not perfect, given that yes, with the exception of itch.io the shops behind it all still run under capitalism. But if you compare it to stuff like movies... It is actually already fairly democratized.

Which is also something that I would then love to see for movies. An easy way to just access indie movies. Be it the "exactly one million dollar indie movies", which are still the majority given that making movies is expensive, or actually those project done by students in their freetime.

Big cities might actually already have their "indie movie festivals" right now. But it is something I want to see more off. With a higher appreciation for movies that do not get a theatrical release, because physical big screens are limited, even if we start democratizing them. (I will talk tomorrow about what it means to democratize media.)

The internet in the end will be a big part of a solarpunk world, because it actually allows us to not only participate in society, but also will give us access to both knowledge and media.

And yes, in a smaller degree this will also impact the other forms of media. Already it is pretty possible to self-publish books or comics, but usually you will often barely get back the investment, let alone being paid for the work that went into the creation of the book from your own end.

Because chances are, that you just will not reach too many people with it. Because the big publishers will usually easily outmarket you, because they have a marketing budget that you will simply lack.

But without those central publishers existing - and work in general being differently compensated than under the capitalist system... It should be easier. Fairer. Allowing for more different ideas, for more different voices to be heard through media.

Yeah, there probably will no longer be much in terms of high fidelity special effects, because there will no longer be hundreds or thousands of SFX guys slaving away for this one big movie. But... That is okay.

Like, I will rather have a movie with a great story, than amazing big explosions, don't you agree?

[matataku-hoshi]

Groundhog Day at the Old Vic, London 2023

*dusts off the old blog* It's certainly been a minute, hasn't it! Still here, still a huge GHD fan. In the intervening years, I got to see productions at San Francisco Playhouse and at the Paramount Theatre in Aurora, IL. (I also got married and went through a bunch of other life stuff, but that's neither here nor there). But then it was announced that Groudhog Day would be returning to the Old Vic in 2023 with Andy Karl, and my husband and I used that as an excuse to finally do that UK trip we'd been talking about for years.

Tumblr user colemckenzies did a great post outlining some of the changes between Broadway and 2023 Old Vic. I wanted to further elaborate on some additional changes I noticed. Obviously spoilers to follow:

In “There Will Be Sun”, the first chorus of “Tomorrow spring will come and then there will be blue skies my friend” is cut. It goes straight from “If not tomorrow then tomorrow or tomorrow there will be sun” to “Oh if I could I’d will these clouds away my love”

While obviously the revolves are gone (look at me picking up British-isms 😄), the bedroom set gets wheeled in every loop. They keep the trick from Broadway where this is always done counter-clockwise until the loop finally breaks.

As previously mentioned, there’s a wonderful lyric change in Day One. “Their dumb superstitions and vacuous chat, their total unawareness of the fact their trapped, perhaps you don't miss it if you don't know you lack it, I'm sure there was a pack of xanax in this jacket'

I adore this because of the foreshadowing, and how Phil thinks he’s singing about the townsfolk when he’s really singing about himself.

Dialogue change in 2023 when Phil runs into Jonathan:

Jonathan: “Off to the see the groundhog?”

Phil: “Why, isn’t there a tractor pull or a cow-tipping contest?”

Jonathan, looks confused: “I don’t think that’s today.”

When Rita introduces  to Phil on Day One and reminds him of the flood story, Phil takes a second before recalling, groans, and goes, "Oh, the intern? They didn't even send me a real producer." After which Rita corrects him that she's a real producer now, albeit an associate producer. 

On Day 2 when the sheriff drops his gun, Phil asks "How do you have a permit???"

At the end of Day 2, Rita sings “I mean he acts kind of asshole-ish still. I think he might be mentally ill.” While it’s on the cast recording and the early previews bootleg, I could have sworn it was cut in the final Broadway version. Regardless, it’s restored in the 2023 version.

Phil’s “Help me~~~~” at the end of Day 3 is cut.

In Philandering, they cut the line where Phil "proposes" to Nancy (which I prefer - no one is that stupid, and they make the point later that Nancy is more than a caricature)

Also in Philandering, you can hear the chorus singing, “Gonna party like it’s no tomorrow~~~” in the party scene (formerly the orgy scene). Phil also gets 10 pizzas delivered to his room.

Phil is less aggressive when he confesses his “love” to Rita in One Day. 

On Broadway, they sit down directly on the stage, and Phil leans sideways to Rita to confess. As he gets more desperate, he starts to position himself over her and tries to take her hand, after which she slaps him.

In 2023, they’re sitting on a bench together. Phil tries to take her hand, and she pulls away and slaps him. Still creepy, but much less heading in the direction of sexual assault.

Either way Phil totally deserves to get slapped. I’ve talked to a few people who have said they could never root for Phil because of this scene (which is a fair critique). The 2023 version IMO makes the same point without so much portraying Phil as a potential sexual predator. 

Right before Phil smashes the alarm clock at the end of One Day, he yells “Make it stop!” (“Somebody make it stop”? Memory is a fickle thing)

When Phil kills himself with the gun before Hope, it's more explicit that he stole the gun off of the sheriff with his faulty holster.

I don't remember if this is new, but when Phil wakes up at the beginning of Hope, he touches the side of his head where he shot himself and even though he knows that the day will always reset, he still looks a little surprised and it's heartbreaking. 

For the third death/revival in Hope (where Phil climbs the ladder):

Broadway: Phil reappears in bed

Old Vic 2023: Phil reappears on the scene of the broadcast, fully dressed

As noted, lots of changes to If I Had My Time Again. 

Cast recording: "The thing with these revolving rides / they're only fun because you know they're going to end"

Broadway (as of early in previews): "I was completely dead inside / But today I'm like 85%"

London 2023: We're back to the cast recording lyrics.

IMO the orchestration and lyric changes are for the better. I adored this song on the cast recording, but in the August Wilson theater it frequently felt swallowed up.

With the emphasis on just Phil and Rita, it’s a much more intimate song, which is what the scene needs IMO.

I also love Rita’s new lyric “Go to all the parties that I missed / Kiss all the boys I was too afraid to kiss”, because then it’s Rita fulfilling her “time again” when she kisses Phil during Seeing You.

After "If I Had My Time Again", Phil eats a carton of Ben & Jerry's while discussing the almanac with Rita. I love the implication that he’s eaten all of this junk food before, but he’s trying it again with her.

Dialogue change after "If I Had My Time Again" 

Phil: "You know, Larry, we never really talk."

Broadway Larry: "Sometimes I think you don't notice that I'm there."

London 2023 Larry: "Well you never brought me donuts before."

Not a change, but I was sitting close enough one night to see the stock photos they use for Ned’s wallet pictures of his kids, and I realized that “little Mary” is just a baby. It really hit home that Ned has probably just lost his wife in the last year or two, and he’s trying to raise five very young kids on his own.

In the Broadway/cast recording versions of "Philanthropy", you can hear some melodic callbacks to earlier songs. In the London 2023 version, the chorus actually sings lines like, "I'm not sure what the point is / But this point is it don't matter" and "If I had my time again I would not do it all the same"

There's no pause of silence before "Seeing You" starts

After Phil and Rita run off into the snow at the end of Seeing You, the couples left dancing are Nancy/Larry, Debbie/Fred, and then Mrs. Lancaster dances alone in the snow in joyous wonder. I love this bit, becuase it feels like all the different ways you can find a new meaning of love (Nancy/Larry, the couple just discovering each other, Debbie/Fred, who have moved into a new phase of their relationship, and then Mrs. Lancaster, who even as an old woman can revel in the beauty of the snow)

In 2023 when Phil takes Rita to see the sunrise, he makes her cover her eyes, and then unveil them once the full sunrise is in view. It’s very sweet.

Anyway, I love this show, and I love talking about this show, so please feel free to hit me up! I may post more general thoughts, etc. if anyone is interested.