#but then really suddenly it got interesting and then i finished the bulk of it in two days

[heart-bones]

I hate when you finish something and want to do a dashboard flood of reblogs to process, but the thing you just finished isn't really on tumblr

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi, i dont know your request are still open, but. Maybe Arlecchino! reader? where the batfam first time met them, they think she is a enemy? (well she is actually, idk) by her mysterious manner? they know her from Damian, who is friends with Lyney and Lynette. Damian never met with reader. But, one day. Lyney and Lynette is been bring to the Wayne Manor by Damian. For a simple dinner, yes. They tell that they are orphans that live in a orphanage named "House of Hearth" at France.

They come to Gotham for study. And yes, Bruce feels sympathy for them (actually want to adopt them.). Well thats just an idea he have in his mind. But, now. Bruce interested as they said that "Father" which is reader is a woman. And lucky, Reader is at Gotham for some "business", Bruce added that he like to make this "Father" came to have dinner with them tommorow.

(Fatui Harbinger is a netral organisation. Yet, still indeed dangerous. They only search something important for their own fortune, maybe like a mafia or something?)

Anyway. When the Batfam met with Reader, they cant help. But find, reader is.. Strange, and mysterious. But cant help by their charming aura. And, why is reader suddenly accept the offer to met with the Batfam? because, she want to make sure about her guess that Bruce Wayne is the Infamous Batman. (okay, maybe the fatui harbinger have some issues with the superheros ig). As Batman was the one who failed her mission for seeking a Hydro gem. She managed to escape of course.. (Idk, its your choice to finish the rest of it, im already fucked up to think the rest of it.)

Anyway, love your writing. I mean, the things i imagened of batfam have a crossover with genshin or hsr became true by you. I never found a writer that made such a Batfam x Genshin/Hsr/Honkai impact one like you. Maybe later make a Ada Wong! reader x Batfam? Im sorry if i have a lot things to say. Thank you for reading this shitty words of mine. Rest well, may God bless you. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

omfg i was just about to start a draft on Arlecchino reader!!! but i wanted to wait for when our dear Father is out first so I can read her story, etc.

I’ll save the bulk of my ideas/fic for when I fully know her lore but this is what I got from the story quest.

The name Arlecchino was the most people got from digging information on you.

You were this mysterious entity among the notorious Fatui Harbingers. Neither vengeful nor greedy. Nor were you ever known to actively seek out blood outside of the Tsaritsa’s orders.

Your priority has and will always been the House of Hearth. Your children. You were never too far from them.

After one of the relics your master told you to obtain was destroyed, you were to punished by being forced to help with the next acquisition. The Crown of the Pyro Clan.

You were stationed in East America. Particularly Gotham for investigation.

An ordinary Wayne Ent. office worker by the day, mafia capo causing havoc by night.

You weren’t really taking your job seriously, so you were soon caught by Gotham’s finest.

And soon after that, their obsession.

God is Tim such a great pair for Arlecchino reader tho. I already see him drooling all over them-

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

There were a lot of instances, really, that could be considered their "first kiss." A look at some moments that might, depending on your perspective, count as Jon and Martin's first kiss. For the Jonmartin week day 1 prompt "First Kiss" - Updates one chapter a day, every day of Jonmartin Week.

For the last day of @jonmartinweek week, I'm posting what I intended to be the last chapter of the fic I wrote for the day 1 prompt, "First Kiss." However, someone in the comments of chapter 8 got me thinking about two additional chapters I could add to the end, if I wanted to turn this epilogue into an interlude. Please let me know (either here or on AO3) if you'd be interested in me writing two more chpaters exploring the end of the series, and what comes after. In the meantime, enjoy this quiet safehouse moment, and something that is definitely not Jon and Martin's first kiss.

They kissed quite a bit at the safehouse. Jon thought they had earned that right.

Cups of tea were always handed over with a kiss on the forehead. Jon lit a fire in the hearth and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. When the morning fog rolled in and Martin suddenly froze, eyes glazed over with bitter memory, Jon took his hand and pressed a kiss to each of his knuckles, murmuring soft, it’s alright ’s and stay with me’ s, and when Jon woke up from a nightmare with tears in his eyes and no breath in his lungs, Martin tugged him close, kissed the back of his neck, and told him it was just a dream.

They orbited each other like stranded satellites, never drifting far, always drawn back by the gravitational pull between them. Jon knew it wasn’t sustainable, this anxious, clinging codependency, but neither one of them was ready for anything else right now. That would have to come with time.

Jon stood up from where he’d been knelt in front of the hearth, tending the fire, and wiped the dust from his aching knees. Martin looked up from his knitting and stretched his arms out to Jon in obvious invitation. Jon did as he was bid, sinking into the cushions beside Martin and letting himself be pulled close until he was resting on Martin’s chest.

“How was your day, dear?”

Jon laughed. “You were here for most of it.” He cast his mind back, trying to think of something over which they could make conversation. “I’m coming around on this book,” he said, gesturing to the spy novel that was currently resting on the end table. “I think it might actually be a brilliant work of satire.”

“Oh? So you don’t think it’s ‘trite and overwritten, with clear overtones of misogyny’ anymore?”

“Oh, no, it definitely is,” Jon said. He sat up and stretched himself across the couch to grab the worn, cracked paperback. “Listen to this.” He flipped to the page he’d dogeared earlier, when Martin was in the shower and Jon had been buzzing with the urge to subject him to the passage. “Lindsey didn’t bother with a bra; she just slipped an old Yale tee shirt over her ample chest and bounced to the door. She regretted that decision a moment later when she saw the shredded, 6’4” bulk of Jack Masterson – That’s the protagonist’s name, Jack Masterson – on her doorstep. Her breasts perked up at the sight of him, and she was certain he could see her nipples standing at attention through the thin cotton of her shirt.”

“That’s– awful!” Martin exclaimed through wheezing laughter. “That can’t be real!”

“My point exactly!” Jon said. “It has to be a work of incisive self-parody, because no real human man could ever write that and expect it to be taken seriously.”

He settled back against Martin’s chest and rode the aftershocks of another wave of laughter. “You can borrow it if you like,” he offered. “I’m nearly finished.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

They laughed again, more softly, then fell into a comfortable silence. The fire popped and crackled beside them, and a log fell against the grate with a sharp crack. Outside the window, the crickets began to chirp. The lamplight and the fire cast a warm golden glow over the room, gilding the overstuffed armchair, the television set that didn’t get any channels, the axe that Martin used to chop firewood and that they both tried not to think of any other uses Daisy might have had for.

“It still feels like a dream,” Martin murmured eventually.

Jon twisted around so that he could look him in the eye while they spoke. “What does?”

“This? You? All of it,” Martin said. The reflection of the lamplight had flecked his eyes with gold as he stared at Jon in affectionate disbelief. “I’m… I’m glad we get to have this,” he admitted. “Even if Jonah kicks down the door tomorrow, drags us back to the Panopticon, plucks out our eyes – whatever he’s planning – we’ll always have had this. Nothing can change that.”

There were a thousand things Jon could have said to that, but in that moment, all of them felt insufficient, so instead he bowed his head and lowered his lips to Martin’s.

It wasn’t their first kiss, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was soft and sweet and languid. They weren’t in any hurry, anymore. After a moment, Jon pulled back and simply stared down at Martin, sprawled beneath him. His eyes had slipped closed and his lips were parted and his cheeks were growing pink. It might have been the most beautiful sight Jon had ever seen. When he opened his eyes, he looked dazed, and more than a little dazzled. Jon could sympathize.

“I love you,” Martin whispered, and that was a first.

“I love you, too,” Jon replied in a breathless rush. “God, Martin, I–” Once again, his words failed him, so he bent down for one more kiss. It seemed to get the message across.

[hamsterclaw]

Hey hey! Love your writing:) I was looking at your JK master list and Legend looks so cool but there’s no link? Is that a mistake or is it still a wip? I love when you write fantasy😍😭

OMG thanks so much!!! JK as a selkie comes from a convo with my friends @madbutgloriouspond and @blog-name-idk and I need to find the time to finish it. Here's an excerpt:

Pairing: JK x f! reader

It’s early, but you prefer walking along the beach when there are less people. The sun’s up, barely, there’s a light salty breeze blowing your hair in your face and there’s movement out of the corner of your eye. 

Three men fighting over what seems to be – a fur coat?

You don’t want to get involved but two of the men are fully dressed and the other one is naked so it seems unfair that the pair are trying to take the fur coat off him. 

‘Hey!’ you shout, before you can talk yourself out of it. ‘Back off!’

You wave your phone. ‘I’m calling the police!’ 

The two men exchange a look and shove the naked man into the sand. Then they’re off. 

You approach the naked man warily. ‘Are you ok?’ 

He looks up at you, dark hair in his face, almost covering his eyes. He’s slim but there’s bulk to his shoulders and arms, a ridge of muscle along his abs. 

He gets up suddenly, overbalances, and you take a step back so he doesn’t fall into you. 

The fur coat’s back on his shoulders, you’re glad for small favours.

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘For helping me.’ 

‘Don’t worry,’ you say. You smile and move past him to continue your walk. 

He says, ‘I owe you everything.’ 

His words make you turn back, slightly nervous at the seriousness of his tone. 

‘You’ve very welcome,’ you say, ‘I didn’t really do anything.’

You’re a few metres down the beach when you realise he’s trailing behind you. 

‘I have to return your kindness,’ he says, when you stop dead and turn around to look him fully in the face. 

Shit. What is this guy on?

‘You can return it by living your life,’ you say, nodding encouragingly. ‘Away from me.’ 

He considers this carefully. ‘Do you feel threatened by me?’ he asks, keeping his distance. 

You eyeball him from the top of his mussed hair, to the ridiculous fur coat he’s got on in the middle of summer, to his bare feet, and can honestly say that you don’t. 

‘You don’t owe me anything,’ you insist.

‘Can I try to repay you?’ he asks. He pushes his hair away from his face, like seeing more of him will change your mind. 

He’s got an interesting face, wide eyes, beautiful skin, a mole under his bottom lip that draws your gaze. 

You sigh. ‘Can you do yard work?’ 

***

Half an hour later your new acquaintance is standing beside you, regarding the mess that was your grandmother’s yard quizzically. 

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ you say. ‘This isn’t worth it. You’re free to go, you don’t have to help me with this.’ 

‘That’s not what I was thinking,’ he says. He looks at you worriedly. ‘How would you have done this alone?’ 

‘It would have taken me longer without your help,’ you allow. 

‘Your hands are small,’ he says, critically, brows furrowed. ‘And your arms —’ 

‘And you’re wearing a fur coat in summer, there’s no judgement here,’ you interrupt, raising an eyebrow at him. 

‘It’s a pelt,’ he tells you, huffy. 

‘There’s probably something up in the loft that’ll fit you,’ you say. ‘Stay here. I’ll go up.’ 

When you get back down to the yard, you’re greeted by the twin mounds of his very firm buttocks. 

‘Holy shit. Get some clothes on,’ you say, turning your eyes up hurriedly as he approaches you. 

‘I see people on the beach wearing tiny clothes that don’t cover much more than this,’ he tells you. 

‘Well you’re not on the beach, you’re in my yard. And in this house we wear clothes,’ you retort. 

You shove the bundle of clothes you’ve found into his chest, and turn your back as he gets dressed. 

When you look around again, thankfully, he’s decent. 

Your grandfather’s clothes are a size too large but it’s probably just as well given your new friend’s penchant for getting naked at the slightest opportunity. 

‘Just to be clear,’ you clarify. ‘This isn’t indentured servitude just because I helped you this morning. You can go whenever you want, ok? You don’t owe me a thing.’ 

‘I owe you everything,’ he says solemnly. 

‘Are you even listening,’ you grumble. 

You decide you’ve spent enough time arguing with him. He looks strong, and willing, and the yard isn’t going to clear itself. 

He works hard, genuinely like he believes he owes you something for scaring those guys off, carrying the weeds you clear out to the bins, seemingly tireless.

By lunchtime you’ve made decent headway. You get up, ignoring the way your knees protest after kneeling in the dirt for so long, and say, ‘come in, let’s take a break.’

‘I don’t need a break,’ he tells you earnestly. ‘I’ll help you finish this.’

You furrow your brow at him. ‘We’re not carrying on unless you eat something —‘ 

You realise you don’t know his name.

‘Jungkook,’ he supplies helpfully, ‘of the Jeon clan.’

[cisthehuman]

2024--Wow it's in 2 days!

It's been a wild ride both personally and stream wise!

What Went Down in 2023:

Graduated w/ my Masters, and with that paid my way through grad school

Got diagnosed with PCOS and began treatment!

Got a part time job in my field!

Rebranded and started streaming again!

Started the CisLunar Visual Novel

Started a new music youtube!

(Please check it out! I put all of my tunes on there!)

What to look forward to in 2024!

I have major goals/projects I want to accomplish!

Project 1: The CisLunar Visual Novel!

My multimedia project, CisLunar, is one that has been in the works since I first started streaming possibly 2 or 3 years ago. It is only recently that I decided to take streaming seriously so while I've had my account for a while, I feel like I've only gotten in the swing of things earlier in December. Cislunar, a real word, means "between earth and the moon". It was a random word I found out about while I completed a word search on my phone and ever since, a story has been growing. Plus, as I go by Cis, it really fits lol

The crux of the story is about grief--acknowledging it, processing it, and adapting from it. Almost 3 years ago, I suddenly lost my father. I have been riddled with several emotions that I wanted to process and thus this story is born.

The story follows Lunar Sun (she/they), an alien cat woman who lives on Planet GJ504b (the pink planet). She is a radio host by day and a mafia informant by night. While she smiles and laughs, she's been making a dangerous habit, one that leads her to a new up and coming job. Online entertainment is at an all time high with entertainers reaching different people across the galaxy. The trouble is, people would like to keep their anonymity. Thus the now booming job of Mutualistic Parasite is born. Because they have nothing else to lose, Lunar takes the job leading them to Cis the Parasite (she/they). Cis the Parasite is quiet, stoic, and clearly a loner. Lunar believes they can be partners, but doesn't realize they have more in common with the earthling...

Ooooooh So Interesting! So Wonderous! It's So Unfinished LOL

So we have some goals for this year regarding the VisNovel:

Finish the script for the CisLunar Visual Novel!

Finish designing characters for the CisLunar Visual Novel!

Actually learn ren'py programming!

Project 2: Streaming

I started streaming part time on December 6 (I believe lol I'm bad with dates)! It's been so wonderful so far! Thanks to some wonderful artists, things look much shinier and new! Please take a gander at my twitch page (and follow! you know you want to):

I've been having fun playing games and drawing and I can't complain! However, there is one small issue--I don't get many viewers. While it is true that with whatever I make, I don't do things for numbers or follows, it is also true that streaming alone can be quite lonesome (shoutout to calcium for making it when they can and being a trooper in the chat! I genuinely perk up when you pop in because it is not just me anymore LOL).

That being said, I have a couple of goals for streaming this year!

Get 50 followers

Have at least 10 people chatting in chat.

Slowly but surely complete the PC-98 inspiration for my streams (I actually got a head start on this one; already got a new overlay commissioned~)

Learn more things I can do with obs plugins, to help with the PC-98-ification of the streams

Buy a better laptop to stream on (this one is nice and it lagging helps with the old school vibe I'm going for, but I need some better performance!)

And a big far away goal--have a big named vtuber say I'm their fave obscure streamer lolol

Project 3: Music!

Honestly, because of work and at the time how tired I was due to my health, I didn't have enough capacity to put out the big bulk of music I made. I literally have at the least 40 tracks that are just on soundtrap LOL

With that being said, starting in the new year, I plan to finally put this music out there! It needs to be out into the wild! I'm also going to do my best to draw a cover for each album as well (this is where the backlog gets created), but I've allowed myself to be happy with a cool free use image as well lol. With that being said, there are already 5 albums ready to be posted. They just need cover images and they'll be put up!

I'm also close to finishing Vol.3 of Cosmic Canary Radio aka the stream music! Getting close to 50 tracks so it's the biggest one so far. I believe I have 5 tracks left and then I'll be done! Here are some tracks as a preview of what's in Vol.3

(lol not all the bands use caps in their name, that's just a hilarious coincidence for the ones I chose to put here)

For this project, the goals are:

put out finished albums!!!

Put out Vol 3 of Cosmic Canary Radio!

Make a section (or separate tumblr) for the fake bands in this universe!

Project 4: Quasar

This is a very far away project, but I'd like to get much farther on it in hopes of working on it while finishing CisLunar Visual Novel.

Quasar has been in the works for at least 8 years now, but I've finally worked on it in earnest the past two years. It's influenced by shows/movies like Redline, Motorcity, Speedracer (the movie more than the show), etc. It connects with the zeitgeist within CisLunar loosely so unfortunately I need to get CisLunar started before I can start posting some things about it (I might break that rule though).

Goals for this project include:

finish designing characters

finalize how the story will be provided to readers

complete the plot lol

I have some personal goals too, but I won't go into to much depth here. Most of them revolve around my own mental and physical health, and while I said I would be open to a degree about my issues to help convey there is a real life human in reality behind this screen, I'll leave it at I'm gonna learn to live with PCOS and I'm tired of having a mentally sick mind. While this year has been quite positive for me, I also had some major lows that stopped me from doing what I love--creating things.

LOL ALSO--I plan to update this tumblr more! More sketches and designs and me putting my stream schedule on here and stuff! That was a run on sentence but it is to show how much stuff is going to be on here now!

This was an EXTREMELY long post, but I wanted to write out all of my goals. Maybe I'll come back at the end of next year and see how well I did!

Until then, seeeee youuu neext tiiimmeeeeee!

[snowmuttgetsweird]

02/19/24, afternoon

Life is so busy, in good ways and in bad, but it's SO busy, that even the good ways start feeling bad.

Just too much to do and not enough time or money to do them.

I've got books, Death Stranding, Ed comes out for Street Fighter 6 in eight days, FF7 Rebirth comes out in 10, I need a new Digimon deck cause my friends just get mad against the two I play right now, and I keep discovering new games I enjoy at work that other folks refuse to play with me. Movies and shows to watch too- need to re-watch the 90's animated X-Men since we're getting proper new episodes- very hype about that.

Legends and Lattes was a good book I borrowed from a friend. He picked up the prequel and gave it to me to read first because I've been reading a lot in my spare time cause it's free/cheap and figured I'd finish it quick, but I'm in the middle of The Archive Undying right now, which the same friend got me for Christmas, so now I feel slightly rushed to finish both fast.

Star Wars Unlimited, the new Star Wars TCG, seems interesting. I'm not especially big on Star Wars as a franchise, and I only played one game with the Darth Vader starter against the Luke starter, but I think the game has good bones- took a lot of good aspects of other TCGs and made something pretty unique that feels interactive, very tempo-based, and difficult to power creep. Bonus that it's designed with drafting and sealed play in mind, which makes it very accessible to new players that may not be interested in constructed play. Unfortunately, no one else I normally play games with is interested in playing with me, and I don't really have time to introduce more friends into my life atm, so that may go unexplored for a while.

Similar situation with Dune Imperium Uprising. Played it at a staff game night once, and been hooked on it since, but haven't been able to play again cause none of my friends are interested- plus it's, like, a four hour game and I don't own my own copy, and if I wanna buy one myself, it's gonna be like, $60+. Woof.

At least with Digimon, a lot of my costs are offset by generous friends that throw chaff from their bulk at me.

On the subject of card games, MtG's siren song has been calling me lately. My day job has me babysitting a bunch of other folks playing card games and board games all day, so I spend a lot of my time watching other people play Magic, and I've been feeling the itch. I might try to pick up a Commander deck and give it a shot.

I'd rather be playing Lorcana, which scratches a similar itch to Magic, but it's just so hard to get my hands on product. I have like, PART of a Belle deck, but with no Belle. She was $13 a pop for like, five minutes, and then the price suddenly shot back up to $20-something before I could spare the scratch to pick up a playset. Still better than the $38-something she was before, but still out of budget unless I save up a little at a time for a long time- not even to mention other Steel-Sapphire staples like Hades, Giant Tinker Bell, Let it Go, A Whole New World and Grab Your Sword. Product has been so scarce though that I think my friends have more or less given up on Lorcana entirely at this point anyway.

Trying to get together with folks when I can to flip some old YuGiOh stuff I've still got, but haven't been successful so far. Was prepped to meet with someone a few weeks ago, and then got COVID and had to put it off. :/

But yeah, no time, not enough money. When I'm not at the day job I'm drawing, and I also have to do cooking and cleaning and laundry and such on those days as well.

Or doing this cause I need a neutral party to vent my feelings and frustrations to. Bleh.

[100dayproductivity]

19/100.

We are 5 days into the new year and 4 days since my last post. I did do a gut reset on the 1st. I did send out messages of greeting to the people I had in mind, and I got together in person with two of them so far. Another responded to me and I have yet to reply back again. I have de-decorated the tree but have yet to take it down. I have not done up invoices. So I'm only partially through the things I wanted to get done this week. But I have to set those aside for now because today is the day I deal with The Thing.

The Thing is a legal document from my ex pertaining to my younger teen child. I need to consult with my lawyer before I sign anything. But before I get in touch with my lawyer I need to read over the document line-by-line and make sure I know what questions I need to ask my lawyer, as well as come up with alternative solutions to the things I don't agree to (and I already know there are things I don't agree to). The reason for the legal document in the first place is because of a major life-change my ex is making that is unfortunately going to affect me: he is moving abroad and wants to take my child with him. This makes me very sad. I've been avoiding dealing with this but today is the day I have to deal with it.

I have this feeling of paralysis when I think about opening the document and reading it. Even now, as I write this. This post itself is just another avoidance measure. But at the same time, writing these posts has often been what helps me push past the paralysis and get the thing I'm avoiding done.

If you're wondering why I don't just say no to my child moving abroad with his father, it's because said child wants to go (has been brainwashed to want to go?) He's not super-gungho, but he is never super-gungho about anything so that's not an indicator of his desire to leave vs stay. He has expressed that he thinks it might be interesting to go.

I would prefer he stay living with me, his mother, and finish high school in the country my parents came to for a better life, and his father's grandparents came to for a better life. It doesn't make sense to me that my child, the descendant of immigrants, is now not going to benefit from the sacrifices made to get here. I would prefer he stay here and spend the summers abroad, when his sister would also be able to spend summers abroad. It really doesn't make sense to me that he would not be here when his sister comes home for holiday breaks during the school year, and that he would be here when his sister goes to visit their father during the summer. We have never separated them before, why would we separate them now?

It also doesn't make sense to me that all of a sudden an opportunity to go to high school abroad is so vital to a child of ours' success in the future. My older child completed high school here and she is excelling in university now. I don't know why my younger child suddenly needs some sort of "better opportunity" than his sister had.

The argument being made is that if my child completes at least three years of high school abroad, then he would be eligible to attend university for free abroad. I don't know the truth of this. One would think one would need to be a citizen of a country that offers free post-secondary tuition in order to be eligible for the free tuition. I really don't know anything about it. I suppose that's part of the problem here. My ignorance about the school system abroad. However, bottom line is that we have been saving for our children's educations since they were born so we already have the bulk of the money needed.

I'm going to look into this tuition thing, because I feel like it's a load of bs.

[ladygenius]

Just the Touch of a Hand

Hi guys :) So this originally was intended to be a flirty little one shot but at some point it felt like naturally getting a sad twist so I just kept on writing. If I shall come up with enough stuff to write an interesting sequel I probably will eventually. Since college started again though this might take a while. :/

description: When Spencer is having trouble with his tense neck you come to his aid but seemingly only make matters worse 

pairing: Spencer x femBAUreader

category: fluff, angst, implied smut (very subtle) 

warnings: implications of sexual actions, swear word(s), insecurities, negative self talk, overthinking maybe, let me know if I missed anything

wordcount: 2.2k

~ feel free to reblog

The last cases have really been getting to you.

Not just physically, but also mentally they seemed to acquire all of your attention. It felt impossible inside your mind to let go of the circumstances surrounding them. 

So you found yourself - once again - sitting in the bullpen for hours after work had already been finished going over old case files, studying bulks of secondary literature on criminology and forensics, making sense of the unsubs.

Everyone else seemed to be long gone except for Hotch who was still handling bureaucracy in his office. And like that, you sat there. Your brain working a hundred miles per minute - not even noticing the subtle background sounds of the cleaning staff working down in the hallway or the monotonous whirring of the electronics around you. 

It's kind of funny, you've always been like that.

You thought you could prevent more dreadful things from happening if only you understood all there was to the issue.

As if right now some serial killer all the way across the country would just randomly drop his work for good because some eager FBI profiler in Quantico was making sense of his motivations.

This might have been one motivation for your current workaholic behavior. But considering how much a certain female agent has been on your mind lately, there might have been another reason for keeping your mind as busy and distracted as possible. 

Shifting your weight on the chair, a sound of discomfort suddenly escaped your gritted teeth as an unexpectedly sharp pain stung in your right shoulder.

Damn it. I can't ever watch my posture when I'm focusing on something.

Your back has been killing you lately. The lifestyle of late-night sleeping on the jet and not really being the type to engage in any physical activities wasn't necessarily beneficial to this problem either.

In a complicated effort, you tried to lessen the pain by massaging the aching spot with your right hand but you didn't really achieve relief.

Awkwardly, you tried out different positions - squeezing your shoulders from the front or trying to reach the spot from behind your back - when you got startled by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

"Well, doctor. I thought as the very genius you are you should know a little better than trying to massage yourself all crooked like that. Won't that make the pain much worse?" The amusement clearly visible in your co-worker's voice.

You felt your cheeks flushing beet red in an instant. In front of y/n, almost everything seemed to get you flustered. Especially her talking anything about massages. 

There was something about the way she occasionally called you Doctor Reid that got straight to your heart.. and elsewhere too to be honest. Something in her voice, something so playful and.. maybe even flirty?

"Yeah, um- you're right. I do know that's pretty much useless." As you awkwardly turned your upper back to face her, she immediately stopped you: "Uh-uh. Or do you prefer to just break your back completely when you're apparently already in pain?", she smiled ever so nicely.

As you turned to your desk again you could hear her approaching closely but stopping right behind you, placing her bag on the ground and seemingly hesitating a few moments about something.

The heat in your face grew even bigger as you questioned whether she was really considering what you thought she was.

"..May I?", her voice suddenly small and a little insecure. God, how cute she was.

"Um, Y-yeah.. but, you really don't have t-" was all you got out until you felt her hands on your shoulders - delicately and yet firm at the same time. It required all your inner strength not to at least let out a small sigh at the pleasant feeling of pain relief rushing through you.

"You do know, too, that it doesn't have the biggest effect if you're still tensing up, right?" she joked playfully.

Relaxing, however, without letting slip out embarrassing sounds was easier said than done when she was working her magic on your back.

"Yeah", you laughed breathily "I guess I'm not exactly great at that."

So you tried to melt into her touch. As if that wasn't what you wanted the most anyway. But you gotta keep it together. You're just co-workers, after all. Right?

Dropping your shoulders and closing your eyes, she noticed her success right away. "That's what I'm talking about" the euphoric contentment in her voice tingling in your stomach.

She traced your right shoulder blade delicately with her fingers, stopping right next to it. At that moment, you couldn't help but shiver a little as you felt goosebumps forming all over your skin, mentally cursing the existence of your shirt fabric for being the barrier between the two of you.

"Oh, Sorry", she adorably let out. "Is this where the tension sits?"

She didn't hesitate another second to test out her theory as you felt the perfect amount of pressure applied right to the knot of your tense spot.

A small but unfortunately very high-pitched whine escaped your throat - 

leaving an answer to her question pretty much unnecessary.

Your eyes shot straight open as you realized what had just happened.

"I figured" y/n giggled lightly, a satisfied grin clearly traceable in her tone.

The way her fingers felt against your unfortunately clothed skin paired with her soft, mesmerizing voice in your ears, your mind automatically wandered off.

Y/n's hands were something you noticed quite early on. Not that you'd have a weird thing for hands or something. Hers were just extraordinarily beautiful.

With slender fingers and some pretty color of nail polish on her fingertips never failing to catch your attention when she gestured wildly while telling a story or casually ran a hand through her hair. Sometimes you caught yourself almost captured in her sight when she absentmindedly played around with her gold necklace between her delicate fingers. Just like a magpie that can't help but get distracted by something shiny.

You imagined what those very hands would look like ghosting over your skin or playfully tugging your curls. What they would feel like in other places.

As many times before, guilt immediately rushed through you at the nature of your thoughts. She was your incredibly kind-hearted colleague. So kind-hearted in fact, that she goes out of her way to take care of your sore neck instead of well deservingly calling it a day. It felt wrong to fantasize about y/n while she was touching you with a completely innocent intention. As if taking advantage of her kindness.

She seemed to notice your tension returning as she asked carefullly, "Does um.. does that feel good?" As much as you wanted to shake that kind of picture out of your mind, her asking you such an intimate question didn't make it easier not to fantasize.

"Uh.. yeah. Of course. You're really talented at that" was all your IQ of 187 could come up with in this flustered condition.

Yeah, right. Talented. God.. why am I like this. I should just shut the fuck up already. 

 As if there was any possible scenario in which you wouldn't enjoy what was happening right now. The last thing you wanted was to leave her feeling insecure when she was basically just making your dreams come true. Even if it was just a painful taste of what you could never fully have. 

As usual, she didn't seem to be put off by your weirdness at all. Her melodic giggle filled the room like it always did when she was amused by something. The slight hint of embarrassment in her tone regarding your compliment making it even more adorable. 

"Well, I'm glad someone finally recognizes my full potential". 

Everything she said just always succeeded to make your head spin with a million thoughts. She was glad as in, 'I've only ever been with douchebags who didn't appreciate me' or in 'I want you specifically to see my potential' or just simply in 'This is my random way of reacting nicely to a weird-ass comment by my co-worker'.  

You just had to admit your infatuation with y/n was simply much more serious than you had realized before you felt her. 

"So.. feeling any better?" 

Suffering from a sudden sensation of inexplicable phantom pain, you only realized the loss of contact between the two of you when her voice brought you back into reality. 

For the first time now you turned around to face her, pretty thankful actually that she couldn't study your probably quite telling features before. 

Still dizzy in your head and your whole body aching for more your tried looking for an answer but there didn't seem to be any.

"Spence?" her voice trying to sound cheery but she couldn't hide the growing worry in her eyes when you couldn't even respond like the coward you were. 

You locked eyes with y/n to not make it even more awkward for her than it was already. However, you weren't prepared for the intensity with which pain and desire simultaneously hit you like a tidal wave. 

"I.. um, yeah. Sorry. It's much better than before." A tight-lipped smile should do the trick of keeping her suspicion at bay. Obviously, that didn't work with an experienced profiler. Nor would it have worked with any average human being who was being lied to so obviously.

Technically, it wasn't even a lie. Your back was much better indeed. But this very moment, all you could feel was your aching heart. 

"Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to overstep, I mean.. I know you're not the biggest fan of touching, and god, you didn't even consent. I'm so sorry. I just wanted you to feel better." The fear in her eyes of having made a terrible mistake pained you. She couldn't be more wrong. But how to tell her? 

'You touching me turned me on like crazy and reminded me of my hopeless crush on you and how you could never possibly want me.'

"No, god no y/n! I honestly didn't mind you touching me at all. It's just.. there's been so much on my mind lately"

Not entirely a lie either. 

With all these last cases. They somehow don't let go of me. And I just realized that I'm more stressed out by all this than I thought. 

"Oh.. okay. Then I'm glad. I mean, not glad that you feel that way.. obviously. I'm just relieved I didn't make you feel uncomfortable." You could tell y/n wasn't entirely convinced of your answer but it was the only thing you could come up with. And it was the right thing to do. 

After all, the only scenario more dreadful to you than your feelings never being reciprocated would be if things got weird between the two of you.

"Alrighty.." she cleared her throat, a slight rosy hue settling prettily on her cheeks. "I'll head out then.. are you done anytime soon? I could wait if you wanted." As much as you did, it would only make it more painful to part from her.

"Uhm, actually.. I don’t think so. I guess I should get this finished first. Otherwise, my desk will be all cluttered tomorrow and I can't focus on the urgent stuff.. you know?" you pointed at all the documents serving as your excuse. 

"Thanks, though." You shot her a forced smile, hoping she'd buy it. 

"Yeah, I can imagine. See you tomorrow then?" It felt tingly and warm around your heart hearing this question considering its rhetoric nature. "Sure. Have a good night y/n." This time you didn't have to fake your smile but you couldn't deny the sinking feeling either spreading inside of you when you saw her offering you a weak smile before she got in the elevator. 

You probably sat at your desk for much longer than you realized. Your head once again working pretty poorly given its reputation. 

It was good how things were. After all, now you had the privilege of her smile that was directed towards you, a hot cup of coffee being placed on your desk occasionally in the mornings, a game of chess on the jet or even just casually chatting about the books you were currently reading.. and most importantly - all of this without her seeing you as a total weirdo. 

Would you ever set all of this at stake for a foolish confession? Only to then have nothing but cringy small talk and endure uncomfortable silences when being paired up on cases forever? The time with her you valued so very much. 

No. As badly as part of you wanted to tell her, it wasn't worth what came after. You'd feel like you'd lose her for good. Not that you actually had her.. but you would at least get a taste of what that must feel like. 

No matter how strong the conviction, your body seemed to see matters differently. Looking over at y/n's desk opposite of yours it took all your strength not to choke on the lump in your throat and keep at bay the tears forming in your eyes. 

Who knew what just the touch of her hands could do to you. 

[cafeacademia]

The New Girl

Pietro Maximoff x Shy!Reader University AU

Summary: When you start late at Stark University you're immediately taken into one of the college’s most popular groups of friends after Rumlow makes you feel uncomfortable and a certain silver haired Maximoff catches your eye.

Warnings: Rumlow being a bit of an ass, flirting and fluff!

Word Count: Approx 1500

Navigation

A/N: Hi loves!! Here's the first part of the Stark University series!! This is a remastered version of the original that I wrote on my old blog, so while the bulk of this part is the same, there are some added parts to it that are completely new and that I hope flesh this out a little more. I hope you enjoy!!

If you'd like to join any of my taglists, please check the masterlist for the series and there will be links to the taglist forms, you can find that HERE.

Next part

Walking towards the double doors, you held a not-so-useful map of the university, along with your new ID card the people at the front desk had given you. It was your first day at Stark University and to say that your nerves were running high was an understatement. It certainly didn’t help that you had no idea if you were even in the right place for your first class, you could only assume that this was the lecture hall you had been told to go to, which you thought you remembered it being called Howard Hall, but you saw no sign on the doors, nor plaques on the wall around it to indicate which hall it was.

And with one deep breath, you stepped through the double doors into a half filled hall, students climbing up the steps to get to the seats at the back, a wave of laughter floating across the hall as a group of older students chatted. You heaved a worried sigh, nervously looking up at the rows of students. You were two weeks late into the year having transferred to Stark University, which had a notoriously difficult entry test.

“You the new girl?” A voice caught your attention and a darker haired individual with a cocky smirk plastered on his lips leaned forwards on his desk, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth as he grinned at you, fingers tugging at the lapels of his leather jacket and you wondered if this guy hadn’t just walked straight out of the fifties in his greaser attire. “Come sit with us, pretty lady.” He patted the seat next to him, the crowd of boys turning to look at you and suddenly you felt heat creep up your neck and cheeks. You felt like prey to them and your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the way he had spoken to you.

As he waited for you to respond, a few of the boys now dramatically whispering about you while you stood in the middle of the hall, a hand came down to rest on your shoulder. “You don’t wanna sit with Rumlow, Prinţesă, they’ll only screw you over.” You looked up to see a group of four guys and two girls.

Steve Rogers, the head boy of the Avengers house and his best friends Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson stood before you. You’d seen them around and on a poster for the next football game and they most certainly were a heart stopping trio. Your eye, however, was caught on the silver haired of the bunch, a soft smirk, warm and inviting posture, hands shoved in his jean pockets, blue eyes that were somehow so warm and you involuntarily smiled up at him.

“C’mon, come sit with our group.” Sam smiled down at you, a more welcoming lopsided smile on his lips and in comparison to Rumlow, Steve’s group seemed much friendlier and more appealing. You nodded, silently agreeing, still far too shy to say anything before you were patted gently on the back and guided over to their seats.

You sat down with people on either side of you, Bucky on your left who turned in his seat to introduce himself properly to you and a girl with long, auburn hair to your right, who was chatting in another language with the boy who’d made your heart stop.

“You’re the new girl in our house, aren’t you? Steve told us you were joining today. I’m Bucky.” He held his hand out to shake and you gently placed your hand in his, letting him shake yours. “Yes, I just transferred this morning.” You nodded. “It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” You smiled shyly as you pulled your hand away.

“I’m Wanda and that’s my twin brother Pietro.” Wanda smiled, catching your attention as you turned in your seat to see her better. “Nice to meet you, Prinţesă.” Pietro grinned at you. “I’m twelve minutes older.” Pietro went on, looking at his sister and your heart almost gave out at the sound of his accent, it was stronger than his sister’s but it sounded so good on him. Wanda playfully smacked her brother on the arm as she rolled her eyes. “What? It is the truth, no?” Pietro chuckled, winking at you and Wanda.

“Where are you from?” You blurted out, having not even introduced yourself or even uttered a word to them and both twins looked at you, smiling at your curiosity. “Sokovia.” They responded at the same time and the girl on the other side of Bucky, sandwiched between him and Steve scoffed. “They’re like the Shining twins.” She muttered, Bucky and Sam snorting at her remark. “That’s Natasha, she’s a real doll.” Bucky winked at you, Nat raising her brow before swatting his arm and shuffling in her seat to lean fully against Steve.

“Are they a thing?” You whispered to Wanda. “Nat and Steve?” She whispered back, watching you nod in response. “She denies it, but they’re so into each other.” She giggled, Pietro leaning over as he became curious of your conversation. “I wonder who else is into someone and yet they deny it, hm?” He asked, voice laced with challenging sarcasm, to which his sister fixed him with a warning stare. “I’m going to grab a drink, anyone want one?” Wanda asked, standing up from her seat, everyone in the group mumbling an answer before she shimmied out of the row of seats.

Pietro got up and dramatically flopped down into his sister’s seat beside you, leaving his blue track jacket in a heap in his own seat. He leaned his elbow on the arm rest, head propped up on his hand as he gave you a heart stopping dreamy smile, blue eyes looking into yours. “Are you going to tell us your name or am I going to have to keep calling you Prinţesă?” Pietro asked, Bucky sighing and rolling his eyes. “What did you just call me?” You asked quietly, a little shy. “Princess.” Pietro winked at you, seeing the way you reacted, slightly flustered and you went quiet for a moment, making him think you didn’t like it. “It’s Sokovian right?” You asked. “Can you tell me more?” You asked, inquisitively and Pietro grinned, nodding. “Only if you tell me your name, Prinţesă.” He winked, a soft chuckle on his lips. “Oh my god.” You heard one of the guys mutter from next to you, presumably at the way Pietro was flirting with you, but to be honest, you didn’t mind. It didn’t seem ingenuine and even if it was, he was so playful that maybe this was just Pietro.

Suddenly Pietro’s arm was yanked out from under him, head dropping and smacking against your shoulder, Wanda standing over him looking rather unimpressed, Sam and Bucky collapsing into laughter, a string of giggles leaving your lips as you helped Pietro sit back up straight again. Wanda hissed something at Pietro in Sokovian, Bucky’s eyes widening at her words and you realised he could understand them. “She said he’s an asshole for stealing her seat every time she leaves.” Bucky leaned into your side, translating for you, failing to mention the fact that Wanda had also scolded Pietro for immediately flirting with you. “And Piet just said- well you don’t want to know what he just said.” He chuckled, making you giggle.

The lecture finally started, the professor having been late to the session and the hall quietened, Rumlow’s group stirring up now and again with stupid remarks and general irritating school boy behaviour. The odd note was passed up and down the row between you and your new friends, mostly between Sam and Bucky, Wanda and Nat sharing their notes with you too.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the session and everyone immediately leapt up before the lecturer was even finished with his presentation. “So, Prinţesă.” You turned to see Pietro as you stepped out of the row of seats, the rest of the group heading down towards the lecture hall door. Reaching up to sweep his silver hair to one side, Pietro gave you a soft, lopsided grin, gesturing for you to go slightly ahead of him, though he walked almost beside you as you descended the stairs together.

“Want to finally tell me your name over coffee?” He asked, making you giggle softly. “I’d like that.” You nodded, glancing over your shoulder at him, sharing a soft smile. “Can’t wait, Prinţesă.” Pietro winked at you. And Pietro really couldn’t wait. He wanted to know who you were, who the girl was that seemed to completely melt his heart within only seconds of meeting her. And he wanted to know what you were really like, especially as you were so shy. You knew as you walked down the steps with him at your side, that your time at Stark University was definitely going to be more interesting and exciting than you had imagined it could be.

Next part

Pietro taglist (OPEN):

@barneswidow @megantje123

Stark University Taglist (OPEN):

@dracosaccount @thesewaywardskies @wasicskosgirl @acciopietro @hanaamara @ikkleronniekins

[soldiermom1973]

N7 Month, day 24 - Horizon

This one’s a long one - I didn’t plan it that way, but that’s how these things go sometimes.  The bulk is under a cut & you can read it on AO3.

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It had been about two weeks since Kaidan was promoted to Staff Commander and the high that came with the increased responsibilities, duties, and pay was always tempered by thinking about Allie every time someone addressed him by his new rank.  It took a few days for his brain to remember it was him they were talking to now, not his dead girlfriend.  He often wondered if he'd ever really stop looking for her when people said, “Commander.”

Kaidan's most recent assignment had him assisting with the decommission of the SSV London.  Knowing what was coming, he vehemently disagreed with any ship in the Alliance Navy being decommissioned, but he was only a Staff Commander and a new one at that.  Regardless of his experience and the things he went through with Shepard, his word didn't amount to a hill of beans.

He was in charge of the team responsible for carefully taking apart the ship's computers and technical systems; the idea was to reuse as many components as possible as newer ships were built and older ships needed them for repairs and upkeep.  There were several systems that were too outdated to ever be usefully upgraded, but quite a few would work just fine in a newer ship.  It was his first assignment after being promoted so he was surprised when he CO called him into her office with news of a transfer.

“Already?”  he asked Captain Dimond.  “I'm not due to PCS for several months and there's still too much to do for me to be able to leave now.”

“I know,” his CO said, “but someone else can handle what you're doing.  I got word from Councilor Anderson himself – you're to report to him first thing tomorrow morning for your new assignment.”

“The Councilor?”  Kaidan was confused – Anderson was technically a civilian now and shouldn't be having anything to do with Alliance business, especially when it came to handing out assignments, unless, of course, he was giving a recommendation for one.  He spent the rest of his shift wondering why Anderson was suddenly interested in his military career.  He hadn't spoken to the man since the last memorial service and that had been nearly seven months ago.  He reached out once when the rumors started circulating that Allie wasn't dead, but the Councilor brushed him off.

“Rumors and innuendo, son,” he'd said, “the tabloids thrive on that sort of thing.”

Other than that, he and Anderson really had no cause to talk to one another.  He finished his shift and walked home, his brain still trying to sort out what might be going on.  He passed an appliance shop and every vid screen in the window was showing old clips of Allie and the Normandy.  Kaidan stopped to listen long enough to hear the reporter question whether or not Allie's alleged return from the dead had anything to do with humanities surge in missing colonists.

He sighed when he unlocked his apartment door.  The rumors about Allie not being dead were becoming more persistent every day, with the newest reports saying she'd been sighted on the Citadel, frequenting one of the wards.  He had half a mind to pull up one of those reports and watch the grainy footage that always accompanied that sort of story.  He never did, though, because he knew he'd get his hopes up only to be disappointed the person in question wasn't really Allie and angry at the journalists for their crappy reporting and failure to do any type or research.

Still, he wondered.  If she was alive, why hadn't she reached out?  Didn't she love him?  She said she did, but if she wasn't dead, then those words were lies because there was no way she'd let him suffer like he was.

Kaidan shook his head and focused on cooking dinner.  He flipped his TV to a news channel he knew wouldn't touch rumors about Shepard with a ten foot pole while he cooked.  He listened as reporters droned on about the stock market on various planets – stocks in weapons and prefabs were skyrocketing, as were emergency supplies such as rations and medical items.  Kaidan paused at that, wondering if there were actually other people out there who believed Allie's predictions about the Reaper threat and were preparing for the inevitable.  He let his own parents know and while his dad didn't take it seriously, his mother did and he knew she would lean on his dad to get things prepped for when the Reapers finally showed up.

When his dinner finished cooking, Kaidan plated his food and switched the channel to a blasto movie and fired up a datapad.  His transfer wasn't official yet and until then, he still had to make sure the day's stripped components were sent off to where they needed to be.  He ate slowly while he worked, sometimes becoming so absorbed in his task he nearly forgot he had food in front of him.  His pasta was stone cold by the time he finally finished it and he drained the last of his beer, figuring he'd shower and head to bed early.

His doorbell rang as he washed up the dinner dishes.  “Coming,” he called, drying his hands on a towel.  He opened the door, surprised at who is visitor was.

“Councilor Anderson?” he asked.  “What are you doing here?  I thought I was supposed to meet with you in the morning.”

Kaidan stepped aside and allowed the older man into his apartment.  “Change of plans, Commander.  Huh,” he chuckled, “the last person I called that was Shepard.”

He handed Kaidan a six-pack of beer and walked further into the apartment.

“Believe me, sir, it's just as weird for me to hear it.  What can I do for you?”  Kaidan gestured to his living room, inviting Anderson to sit.  “Should I crack these open?”

“That's why I brought them,” Anderson answered.  “and I can't risk meeting you in my office.  I work under the assumption that there are bugs and listening devices all over my office even though it's swept daily,” he added, accepting the opened bottle Kaidan offered him.

“It's that serious?” Kaidan asked, taking a seat across from him.

“It is.  I assume you've heard the rumors about our missing colonists?” Anderson asked.

“Only what I've heard on the news.  People terrified because they can't reach their loved ones, ships being waved off near supposed disappearance sites.  I've even heard there are ships missing, like what we were investigating when...”  Kaidan's voice trailed off at the memory of the SR1 being attacked and Allie dying.

Anderson leaned back on the couch and drained his beer.  Kaidan thought it was odd the man wouldn't look at him, so he pressed, “Sir, just how bad is it?”

“It's bad, Alenko.  Which is why we couldn't meet in my office.  I can't risk this getting out.  We've lost dozens of colonies, hundreds of ships have gone missing, and the Alliance is powerless to do anything because the fleet isn't up to strength yet and won't be for some time.”

“What can I do?” Kaidan asked.  He didn't hesitate – something he picked up from Allie and her willingness to do whatever it took to help whoever was in need.

Anderson opened his messenger bag and slid a folder across the coffee table.  “We got intel about a colony that's supposed to be the next one hit.  I don't know how they know because we damn sure can't find a pattern.”

Kaidan grabbed the folder and perused the contents – data sheets on dozens of colonies that had gone dark.  The populations averaged around five to eight hundred thousand people.  Investigations turned up nothing solid – the colonies were just empty, like everyone had been sucked into a void.  Meals were left uneaten, water running to wash dishes, coffee still hot on a burner, pots on stoves that had burned dry.  There were absolutely no traces of any of the colonists.  Any cameras were wiped so there was no video evidence.

Until Freedom's Progress.  Kaidan watched the accompanying datapad with horror as creatures he wasn't familiar with strolled through the colony, moving people into pods and shuttling them off for parts unknown.  The colonists didn't resist – the footage made it seem like they were paralyzed somehow.

“Sir, where did this footage come from?” he asked.

“I can't tell you that.”  Anderson's face was grim.  “What I can tell you is those are the things responsible for the alleged deaths of millions of our colonists.”

The last sheet in the pile was for a colony on Horizon.  Over half a million people called the planet home – it seemed to be about the same size as those colonies that disappeared.  The only difference was this one wasn't gone.

Yet.

“I take it this is my mission?” Kaidan asked.

“Yes. The Alliance is sending some AA guns to the colony.  You'll be leading a small team to make sure they're up and running to aid in the colony's defense.  Additionally, you're going to work with their leadership and develop an escape plan – reinforced buildings, underground bunkers, whatever is necessary to keep these people safe.”

“Won't the guns make them a bigger target for slavers and pirates?” Kaidan asked.

“The pros far outweigh the cons on this one.  We're working with the colony backers to build a small post on the outskirts of the main colony – far enough away to not be a hindrance, but close enough to help if it's needed.”

Kaidan gathered all the paperwork and slid it back into the folder, handing it back to Anderson.  “When do I leave?”  he asked.

“Tomorrow morning.  You'll catch a flight out with the Roosevelt, an Alliance supply ship.  Your team will be on board.  You'll need to brief them. The official story is that Horizon is the first of many colonies to get these guns.  If anyone asks about anything else, tell them you don't know.”

“Play dumb,” Kaidan smiled, “I can do that.”

He leaned back in his chair and the pair made small talk, catching up on what the members of the Normandy were doing – the surviving Alliance crew were spread to the four winds.  Joker dropped off the grid when he got grounded, Chakwas was on a leave of absence, and Anderson didn't know much about the alien members of Allie's crew.

“And what about her, sir?” Kaidan murmured.  “Are those rumors true?”

“You mean whether or not she's alive.  I can't answer that, son,” Anderson's voice was soft.  He knew about Allie and Kaidan's relationship and had no issues with it as long as they were discreet.

There was something in Anderson's tone that gave Kaidan pause.  “You can't or you won't?” he asked.

“I can't,” he said again with a shrug.  “I wish I could.”

At that, Anderson stood and stretched, groaning when his back popped into place.  “I'm not sure if that's old age catching up with me or the fact that I'm stuck behind a desk now,” he complained, shaking his head.  “I used to be able to run circles around you younger guys and now I think I'd have a hard time keeping up.  I'll never understand why Shepard put my name up for this job.”

“Because she believed you were the best choice, sir.”  It was something Allie and Kaidan talked about on several occasions.  She felt bad because she knew he didn't want to be behind a desk, but having Udina in charge would have been awful.  “And she knew you believed her about the Reapers.  She knew you'd push as much as you could to get the galaxy ready.  Udina would have only done what was beneficial to him politically.”

“Well, she wasn't wrong there,” Anderson admitted as he moved toward the door.  “But the Council has convinced themselves the Reapers aren't real and Sovereign was a geth ship.  I'm still trying to do what I can, as is Admiral Hackett.”

“Good,” Kaidan nodded.

Anderson shook Kaidan's hand.  “You be careful out there, Commander.  I'm looking forward to your progress reports once you get boots on the ground.”

Kaidan closed the door behind his former CO.  He let out a heavy sigh and made his way to his bedroom to pack his duffle bag.  He'd have been quite happy to stay on the Citadel for the decommissioning, but this was technically his first command, too.  He sat on his bed and grabbed the picture frame that he kept there.  A picture of him and Allie flickered into view and he brushed his thumb over her face.

“I'm going to do my best to help this colony.  I hope I make you proud,” he whispered.

[writing-with-olive]

Tracking goals with a bulletin board instead of a planner

I don't know how helpful this is going to be to everyone, but switching away from using a planner was an absolute GAME CHANGER, so I'm going to share my system because it's not as intuitive as a planner, but at least for me, it's much more effective.

This got kinda long(ish) so the following is under the cut:

why I switched from using a planner to using a bulleting board

what kind of goals I set with this system

measuring success

how it actually works (how to set it up, and use it to actually track goals)

affordability (spoiler alert: it’s better than most planners)

First of all, why did I switch?

My biggest issue with using a planner was that I wasn't seeing my goals often enough. In the closed pages of a book, they are very nicely hidden, and goals I can't see are goals that don't exist. This took me, oh..... five years to realize (starting when I first tried setting and tracking goals), but once I did, everything suddenly made sense. As far as I can tell, the more often you're interacting with your goals, the more likely you are to complete them. 

What kind of goals do I set?

I track goals quarterly, which means I set new goals at the start of every three months (January, April, July, October). This is pretty effective, as I can set ambitious enough goals that I have to actually work to meet them, but there's enough space for setbacks like "I don't wanna" and "Oh look! Life!" without completly obliterating my chances of being able to finish. Quarterly goals are also pretty standard, at least for corporate America (idk about elsewhere, but it seems fairly likely).

In terms of content, I set several goals for the following catagories:

school/academics (if you don't go to school, work-based goals could go here instead)

social media and writing (most of my social media presence revolves around writing, so I kinda lump them together)

personal/private goals (home-based, tasks that I need to set aside more time to do, family, etc)

self care/habits I want to build (take a walk daily, eat breakfast, screentime limits, read books, etc)

This quarter, I have five for each section, which means twenty goals overall. That's a lot. (I'll get to my metric of success in a sec) The benifit though, is that pretty much all of the most important parts of my life are accounted for, meaning that it's not about making time for my goals, it's about structuring my day so that the bulk of it focuses on one goal or another. Whenever I'm bored, I can see what I have on my goals list, and I'm usually able to find something that's interesting to me in the moment. (This method of spreading out goals to cover multiple facets of my life is heavily inspired by Jenna Moreci's goalsetting method)

How does success work?

(The stuff above was adapted from Jenna Moreci. This part is lifted wholesale from what she does.) I have a lot of goals. Because of that, it's pretty unlikely that I'm going to be able to complete all of them, and setting that expectation is a great way to end up failing, and lacking the motivation to do much of anything. Therefore, a successful quarter is completing at least 50% of the set goals. It's still a challenge - I still have to complete 10 goals in 12 weeks, but it's doable. A success is listed as a win, whereas not completing 50% is a loss. Since I am a competitive person by nature, putting it in a win/lose dichotomy is an excellent motivator. 

This is great and all, but how do you actually set it up?

Okay this is the fun stuff! So it would seem like the board would get pretty crowded pretty quick, but it actually doesnt. 

I do all of my tracking on notecards. Each card holds five goals on them, which I write in pen, and I mark my progress by highlighting a progress bar on top of the row I've written my goal on. This means I can tell at a glance what goals I have the most or least progress on, and approximately how far I have left to go. I don't have to get bogged down by writing out fractions/percentage completion, which would definitely clutter things up. 

To set my board up overall, I used string to block out four columns, each with header labels: Quarter, Week, Day, and Other.

The quarter column is where I list all of my goals I've set without breaking it down into little pieces. I have four notecards in this section, each with five goals apiece. It's the way I track how far I am toward completing the whole goal. Since some goals take most of the quarter to complete, I only update the progress bars once a week. 

The week column also has five notecards, but broken down into pieces I can accomplish in a seven-day period. Usually, I set it up, so that the goals on each card directly correspond to the goals on the quarter goal card to it's direct left. You can mix and match which goals you work on any given week, but it's effective for both keeping everything organized, and also for making sure I'm not neglecting anything. I also make sure to label each of the week goals what it's the week of (for example [W- Mar 4] would indicate that this is a weekly goal card, and also that it's the week of March 4th). This is useful in case I want to go back and see what I was up to at any given time. 

The day column looks a little different in that there are only two notecards. This is to help limit what what volume I'm trying to take on, because one of the biggest demotivaters is seeing a giant pile of work and knowing there's no way to finish it in the time you've got. Usually, I align the first card with the top row established by my quarter/weekly goals, and I write out five things I want to achieve during the day based off what I've written in my top two weekly goal cards. The other card is on the third row, and corresponds to the third and fourth weekly goal cards. As a very strict rule, I don't give myself more than four hours of work each day (this excludes going to class). I've experimented with other timeframes, and I've found going over that number means my chances of doing what I've set out to do plummet if I assign myself more. 

The Other section is where I keep all of my past week/day notecards. On top, I have my weekly goal notecards in one of those triangular paper clamp thingys (I have been informed that these are technically referred to as binder clips), organized in chronological order, with the most recent at the front. Below that, I have my daily goals. This way, I have my progress easily accessible (this comes in useful for proving that yes, I did do the dishes three times last week and yes, it's your turn)

How affordable is it?

Actually really affordable. Yes, it takes up more wall space, but you can get a bulletin board for about $20-$45 depending on where you shop (sometimes they cost more, but usually you can find one in the given range). Notecards cost on average about $3-$4 per 100 card pack (which lasts about two months if you use front and back). Thumbtacks cost about two to three dollars, and a small ball of yarn costs about three to seven dollars. This means tracking for the first quarter costs about $35-$60 dollars, but every quarter following is between $4 and $7. 

For comparison, most quarterly planners, cost about $25-$35 dollars per quarter.

Over a year, that adds up to:

 $50 - $80 for a bulletin board tracker

$100 - $140 for quarterly planners

Over two years, it adds up to

$65 - $100 for a bulletin board tracker

$200 - $280 for quarterly planners

Anyway, that got pretty long, but maybe it'll be helpful to you!

[signalno5]

[02] In which Goshiki thinks about his cute roommate

Or There’s no heterosexual explanation for this

Trig, Calc and stats can eat my entire ass. All the other Math can stay. I also don’t think I mentioned it but italicized text means thoughts. Also shdkjash I don’t have any pre-written chapters any more....

Warnings: Math, reader has set interests (it might ruin your immersion but this fic series is very self-indulgent lol)

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Wednesday

 May 23, 2012 

If there's anything that Goshiki notices about you, it's how quiet you were. You’d always clam up after he tries to make conversation with you. It's like you were trying to desperately find something to say. He'd see how your face would contort into a grimace then a frown then you'd look pensive, as if you were considering something.

You were weird. 

Maybe not as weird as Tendou-senpai but still weird. He briefly wonders if you two would get along if you met. You seemed to be one of those eccentric genius types, with your nose always shoved into your textbooks and your unexpected taste in room décor.  

You looked so serious even though you were surrounded by plushies on the bed. In between you and your Japanese Literature book was your Pompompurin stuffed toy, your chin was resting on its little brown beret and your arms were wrapped around its round yellow body. Beside you were your notebooks and homework packets, neatly piled up. 

He wonders why he was ever intimidated by your quiet nature, looking at you now. It was cute how you couldn’t bear to leave home without your large collection of Sanrio merch. Even though your beds were the same size, yours looked so much smaller from the armada of stuffed toys on it. 

He briefly wondered how pleasant your bed it would be to sleep on your bed; the mattresses were the same but your bed looked infinitely more comfy (which was probably why you were studying there instead of a desk). Your pillows and plushies looked so soft too but he’d know not to lie down on your plushies because he’s seen you look upset when you accidentally crushed little Cinnamoroll in your sleep.

He remembers remarking on the sheer amount of it and you looked so flustered about it saying that the bulk of it were gifts from his parents since they weren’t around much. 

When he thinks about it, you kind of remind him of Gudetama with its lazy, droopy nature. Probably because you promptly fell asleep soon after meeting him. The two of you made a strange-looking pair; Goshiki who was energetic and over-enthusiastic and (L/N) who always seemed tired.

It’s amazing how you became his friend so easily. Goshiki himself was pretty aloof so it seemed unlikely that this friendship would be formed. 

But then again, I’m the one who suddenly declared that we were friends…

It was a bit embarrassing that he did that but he found himself drawn to (L/N). He remembered his broad grin when he took his bags into the room. After 2 months of being his roommate, Goshiki realized how rare it was to get him to smile. 

Ah, I want to see that smile again.

( He didn’t notice that there were eyes on him. Looking back at his blank, zoned out stare with a fond look and the smallest grin. )

He wonders if he smiles a lot during class (You were in different classes after all, with Goshiki being in class 1-4 and you being in class 1-5). He wonders if you laugh at Ito-sensei’s morbid humor or if you go along with your class’s hijinks. 

He wonders if you had any inside jokes with your seatmates (who he knew because he visited your classroom sometimes during lunch). Are you always so serious all the time? Maybe you’re trying to play straight man to their jokes…?

“...Goshiki?”

“Ah..yeah?”

“Did you finish the homework packet that Kato-sensei gave us? I’m not quite sure if I got the value of the tangent right in item #8. I just wanted to compare answers if that’s alright.”

… fuck

He hadn’t started with it yet since he just got back from volleyball practice and he’s been wasting time staring at his roommate like a creep too!! 

Might as well be truthful about it…

“Ah, I haven’t started on it yet”, he laughed nervously. “I just came back from volleyball practice after all.”

(L/N) looked pretty apologetic for some reason. He curled back into his plushie and turned his head away from Goshiki. 

“Right. Sorry if I was disturbing your rest.. I thought you wanted something from me because you were staring.”

!!!

So he did notice!

“Ah… well? I-um wanted to ask for your help? You’re in Class 1-5 so I thought that you’d be able to help me out! Only if you want to of course!” 

He hoped that (L/N) wouldn’t call bullshit because he knew Goshiki didn’t really struggle too hard in academics. He knew that people thought of him as a volleyball idiot but he’s pretty grade conscious too! (Especially since it proved that he was smarter than Ushijima-senpai)

“...Alright but I might need your input in this too. I’m still having a hard time grasping the topic.”

(L/N) looked troubled by this; he was nervous and fidgety, adjusting Pompompurin’s little beret and smoothing out the wrinkles on its surface. His hands looked like they were desperately looking for something to fix or smooth out. This made Goshiki worry; in the few months that he’s known him, he hasn’t really seen him struggle in academics. But they were in the midst of midterm examinations after all, so it would make sense to be stressed out by extra homework.

I guess even people like him have a hard time.

“You can count on me (L/N)!”, he said in a voice too loud for a room with only two people in it. 

He heard a quiet chuckle and looked at his roommate to see him leaning on his Rillakuma pillow (weird considering he liked Sanrio characters more) with a smile wide on his face.

“That’s just like you to say, Goshiki.” 

Goshiki hoped that his ears weren’t deceiving him but he sounded fond? He said it in a way that made Goshiki warm.

It was fluttery too and light. He felt like his chest was a balloon being inflated with a pump. It felt like someone was stepping on the pedal faster and faster with the air going in until his chest felt full. 

What a weird feeling it was.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do TFP bots (or just a few of them if you have charcater limit or just don't feel like doing them all, as long as Wheeljack is ingluded I'm good) with a human they just recued and they're like "I'm gonna call my dad hold on" and if they protest they're like "nah you'll like him I promise, just give him a minute" and her dads their old bot friend who went MIA (you can decide who the dad is, or go with Ironhide if you're as indeciceve as me lol)

I miiiiight just have to do this as a short story I hope that's okay! Got my Wrecker boys Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Smokescreen and Ultra Magnus.

Dust was still settling as you realized the threat was over, the collection of vehicons having scattered long before the cave had finished it's partial collapse and leaving you under the gathered team of bots who'd come together to shield you from falling debris. Rubbing off the powdered rocks covering your face, as well as coughing up the taste of dirt, you took a moment to gather yourself as your new giant allies did the same. It wasn't worth thinking about what would have happened if they hadn't come along when they had... In your defense, that ambush had come out of nowhere.

"You okay there?" A deep voice above you rumbled with concern, encouraging you to tilt your head upwards at the big green bot looking down at you. His optics were friendly, and despite his absolutely massive size and hands that transformed into wrecking balls, you immediately trusted him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks to you guys." You said gratefully, looking to each of the gathered team as they brushed the dust off themselves.

"Protecting organic life is the primary responsibility of Autobots, think nothing of it." The largest of them said, somewhat gruff as he meticulously picked off the worst of the rubble that had showered down upon them. Immediately, you knew he was the one in charge. Towering above the others and with shoulder pauldrons thicker than two of you, he gave off the energy of someone who took no nonsense and had the firepower to back up his authority, yet his gaze was mostly just annoyed as he looked down to you again. "Our second responsibility, however, is remaining hidden from the denizens of this planet. Saving you required us to break cover."

"Give the kid a break, sir. They managed to escape a whole squadron by themselves before running into us. I think we can cut them some slack." A far gruffer voice said, cutting in as the battle scarred mech in question took a protective step your way. Quite immediately the colors on his unique build were familiar to you, but you decided to stay quiet on that fact, reaching for the cellphone thankfully still secure in your pocket. While you hadn't found what you'd been looking for in this mine, at least you had something far more interesting to report.

The big blue bot looked to the other with an impressive frown, unintentionally cementing your thesis as to the scarred mech's identity. The back and forth continued more or less without an acknowledgement of your presence. "They've been seen in our company, Wheeljack. By the procedure Optimus established, we must now secure their wellbeing, and that will be quite the undertaking."

The only one who had not yet spoken, a smaller but solidly built blue bot who seemed the youngest of the group, chose that moment to jump in with a quip. "Doubt docbot will be too happy about another human in the bunker."

"He's all talk. Ratchet wants these little guys as safe as the big guy does, he won't put up a fight." The gruff one, who you were starting to like more by the moment, said with an amused but reassuring smile in your direction. Unable to help smiling back, you suddenly felt that this turn of events might have been more than you could have ever hoped for. If only you could get a word in edgewise...

"You're purposefully missing the point, soldier. We-"

"If it's gonna be such a hassle for you, I'll take 'em myself."

"Jackie..." Once more, the gentle green giant spoke up, looking quite concerned at his friend's purposeful egging on of the bot in charge. You got the sense that this kind of thing happened often by his tone, but personally, you were getting a little tired of being ignored. None of what they were discussing was necessary, and if anyone would have bothered to ask you they'd know that? Finally fed up, you took a breath and raised your arms to draw attention to your tiny self.

"Um, hello? Excuse me!" You shouted, mercifully ending the bickering and securing four pairs of optics on yourself. Relieved for the silence, you pulled out your phone and held it up, projecting your voice to ensure you were heard. The shocked expressions didn't cease when you started to explain, but you didn't let that stop you. Sorting this out would make everything easier for everyone. "I think there's a bit more going on than any of you know. Let me call my dad really quick, he'll set this straight."

The first to reply was the one you knew had to be the rookie of the group, who awkwardly cleared his vents and broke the silence only hesitantly. "Uh, bringing more humans into this really isn't our goal-"

"Who said anything about him being human?" You cut in, grinning from ear to ear at the looks they all gave you. Now that you had their unbroken attention, it was only a matter of summoning your dad and waiting for him to arrive. Dialing his frequency into your phone, you prepared to share just as much information as it took to get him here fastest, wanting to see the look on his face when he arrived and saw who you'd found. This was going to be fun...

----------------------------------------------------

The roar of a familiar engine had thankfully silenced the second round of bickering to break out amongst the two argumentative bots, who had gone back and forth between listening to you and calling for their superior. It had been entertaining at first, but by the time that roar had echoed down the tunnel you'd been relieved to hear it, and had hopped to your feet from your seat on a convenient rock. The bots had reflexively drawn their weapons, but there hadn't even been any need for you to stop them. A worn red paint job skidding around the corner had made them all hold fire.

In a rush, you'd run out to greet the massive off road vehicle just as it began to transform, and in moments had been embracing the offered hand of a hulking bot who kneeled before you with an expression of happy relief.

"Ironhide!"

"Wheeljack!" Your adopted dad cried out in absolute joy, letting you move safely to the side before approaching the bot who's identity you'd properly guessed. Ironhide had told you so many stories about the Wrecker, it made sense that you'd been able to tell who he was by appearance and mannerisms despite having never met. The two bots greeted one another with an earth trembling chest bump, after which your beaming father turned to the green bot with just as much enthusiasm, shaking hands and crashing their fists together with overwhelming power. "Bulkhead too? Where have you guys been?"

"We might ask you the same thing, soldier." The big blue bot said, cutting in with the same serious look that appeared to be his only expression. On a closer inspection, however, you could see a certain light in his optics. He wasn't altogether displeased to see a new arrival. Standing somewhat awkwardly to the side, the young blue bot appeared delighted if not quite confused.

"Uh, long story, Ultra Magnus sir. I've been on this planet for some time. Found this little troublemaker when they were half their current size, and I've been raising 'em to help with our cause." Ironhide said affectionately, stepping back and dropping to one knee to be more on your level. Before you could puff up proudly at the praise, a single digit tussled your hair as he often did to tease, and you sputtered before playfully pushing him away and undoing the damage. Chuckling, he turned back to his comrades. "Never figured I'd bump into you all here! Jackie, Bulk, and uh..."

The attention turned to the young bot, who only smiled with a wave and a not offended clarification on his name.

"Smokescreen."

Wheeljack gave your dad a playful punch, still buzzing at seeing his old friend alive. The friendship you'd so frequently heard about was clear as day before you. "Glad to see you in one piece, old Rusthide."

"We've been here for years, Ironhide. How come we didn't detect you?" Bulkhead said, looking just as happy but burdened by the question at hand. Ironhide tapped his audial with a somewhat glum smile.

"Communicator's been busted for ages, all I've got is an earth link for cellphones." He said, recalling an injury he'd endured long before meeting you. The line he'd built relied on earth technology, and you still remembered how many tries it had taken to get it right. It was impossible to imagine a whole other team of beings like himself had been out there the whole time... Yet he didn't look at all regretful as he glanced down at you. "If I'd known I wasn't alone, I would have introduced myself and the kid ages ago. Looks like we've got my little one to thank for bringing us together."

You pouted and crossed your arms at the comment. "I'm not little anymore, dad."

"They did alright in a scrap, but how about we get you two back to base? I'm sure the other's will want to hear the story." Wheeljack said, easing your damaged pride with the compliment. You had indeed evaded those Vehicons for a good long while before being rescued... speaking of which, you could use a bit of rest somewhere secure.

Once more, Ultra Magnus stepped in to halt the festivities. "First; I shall communicate with Optimus and let him know what has transpired. He will likely want to meet you in person before we make any rash decisions."

"Seriously? Come on, Mags! Let's get this bot in an actual base!" Wheeljack replied in a huff, bringing back the arguing from before as if it had never stopped. Looking quite amused, Ironhide merely chuckled and offered you his hand, allowing you to get a lift onto his shoulders as was your custom. Clearly not phased by what he was seeing, the only parent you'd ever known let you get comfortable before following the group out of the partially collapsed cave. Who could have thought your simple little scouting mission would end like this?

"Come on kiddo." He said softly, watching the bickering with an expression of nostalgia. "I have a feeling things are about to get pretty interesting."

[kyotakumrau]

2020.12.16 The World We Live In at Zepp Nagoya, 1st event report

They started with a huuuge delay, a bit of a mess with merchandise sale (with 1st and 2nd part being sold separately) etc.

And snow was teasing us when we were waiting outside because it is Nagoya😆

After the live footage (with a bit of a trouble one moment), music videos for Ochita and TWOM, they brought 4 sets of small high tables with chairs.

Fujieda stayed on the left side and first  apologized for the delay and announced that band members will arrive.

Everyone held their breath in as members came in, Toshiya and Die!

Die brought his hair game at the highest level, he also wore sunglasses with diamonds or something sparkling? Sorry, I was sitting in the last row on 1st floor😅 he wore all black, with a flowy/thorn style jacket.

Toshiya wore a brown leather jacket and a black DIRT top with the necklace thing.

Fujieda asked them to introduce themselves and next they talked about the Zepp Yokohama performance. Toshiya said he was nervous. Die said that he was surprised with how naturally it went for him, but he felt strange about the cameras (?)

Fujieda: how was it on that day?

Toshiya: it went by so quickly.

F: you were also filming a document. And the music video for TWOM.

Die: it took some time.

F: to complete it.

(they talked more about the video)

F: today it was unveiled in full for the 1st time. It was filmed in Takadanobaba.

T: it was a very small place

Next Fujieda asked them about their current situation.

Die said that things are not changing, the way they make songs stayed the same, there's no concert schedule, their surroundings/scenery is not changing at all, is stagnant. It felt like there was one single rythm for the whole year and suddenly it's December.

Next, they talked about the same time last year, when they toured in America. Die said because it feels like there was nothing this year it feels like it was very recently, like yesterday.

Fujieda: is there anything you've enjoyed even a bit recently?

D: today.

T: not really.

F: nothing?

T: the ramen we had earlier.

Next Fujieda recounts the events from Jan/Feb - Europe, March/SOGAI, May with the 5 day audio stream event. He asked them about it.

D: I listened to all of them. I got the setlists from the members earlier, but I still listened. It was really interesting.

T: I didn't watch.

F brought up the topic of the archives and special talk, that they also participated together then.

D: it was fun, exciting.

Next F talked about Pia Arena and the event for VIP ticket holders. T ???

After that they talked about WOWOW and members produced t-shirts.

T: it was quite hot, in summer.

D wanted to have his hair done properly (like all gorgeous-ed up?)

T joked that he changed his hair to this (while pointing the lenght with his hand)

Then they talked about the items they prepared for this event, F passed them their items, it seems it was the first time they saw the final product.

Die commented he wanted to make it more stylish/standing out, but then he was worried that fans won't be able to use it on daily basis. But they both have lyrics from Ochita

F: it's a simple design (in a good way)

And after that F struggled with pronouncing 必需品・ひつじゅひん・essentials while members were poking fun at him😆

F finally succeeded and commented he likes black because you don't have to worry about it getting dirty.

Next they talked about Toshiya's merch.

D: I was surprised by the size.

T: I requested big size, but this is huge (😂) also don't pink and purple ones look the same?

F: there are 5 colors, one for each member plus silver, sold at random.

T: sorry you got a random item (to fans)

F: but it makes it fun, like gacha/casaule toys. They got sold out for the 1st event.

Next they moved to the questionnaire, F passed them papers with questions from fans.

F: if you like any questions please read them.

T: like now?!

(isn't that the whole event idea?😂 )

Die went first.

D: 'what sweets are you into now?'

T: recently... a frozen mikan orange.

They talked about his ice cream during the special talk as well😆

F: how about you, Die?

D: the top of akafuku (mochi covered with red bean paste). In the past I only ate the top and gave the bottom to a kohai (younger friend/bandoman).

T: 'what was the food you ate in Nagoya when you visited for the first time? what  kind of famous Nagoya food do you like?'

D: first time ever? This time?

(they agree to talk about this time)

D: I can't eat unagi (eel) because of fishbones, but I ate a bit of hitsumabushi (famous eel dish in Nagoya).

(T laughed at him for being so weak😂)

F: hitsumabushi is definitely delicious. How about you, T?

T struggled with answering, F tried helping suggesting food they tried, Miso nikomi ramen. at Sugakiya (?)

T told us there was their shop in some department store where he used to go together with his family, so it's a nice memory for him.

D: 'are you into Kimetsu no yaiba/Demon Slayer?'

T: it's crazy popular now.

D: did you see it?

T: it finished recently.

D said he doesn't watch anime and he REALLY doesn't want to hear Kimetsu theme song anymore (it's played everywhere).

F: do you have a fav character?

T: not really.

F tried to encourage them to watch the movie.

T: 'during the period we were asked to stay home many people started to do more online shopping. What was the best item you got online?'

(I missed what was it that Die bought, but something to do with organizing I think???)

D: do you buy clothes?

T: not online.

D: so what do you mainly buy online?

T: alcohol.

D: buying in a bulk is good.

T: and I buy stuff that I can't find in normal shops.

F: what kind of alcohol?

T: wine.

T: 'because of the COVID situation there are many things we can't do now or we struggle with something. What is it for the band members?'

D: with the situation that there are absolutely no shows, nul, I actually started to question who I am.

They joked about needing some kind of therapy or training for when the shows will start again.

T: I really want the life with concerts back.

F talked about the additional The World You Live In event. Then it was the time for the final comments from the band members.

Die: ...hmm... standing on the stage right now I got to feel even more that I really want to play a concert, and it's a venue I really like. The situation is still not good now, things are difficult (concert and otherwise) but we're working on the songs for the next album, for the next year. I'd be really happy if we could have a tour at the same time with the album release.

Toshiya: in this kind of situation we can't do usual things, play concerts and so on. I'm always nervous, worried if people are going to come to our shows. But there are people who are waiting for us and for them I want to make music and plan concerts in the future.

Then Die stood up and said he wants to try standing in his usual spot on the stage, he walked around the kamite area.

Toshiya: you should play air guitar😎

[omgkalyppso]

Number 4 for the romance lyric prompt for any variation of the ot4!

4. ‘Cause girls like you run 'round with guys like me 'til sun down.

The lyric is from Girls Like You by Maroon 5 (idk how obvious this is without me saying it), and was added to the playlist specifically for Claude x Hilda though a lot of the lyrics have to be taken at face value because it could be interpret extremely negatively, though not that line, and not my intent. I'll try writing a few words of the stage-production au.

I didn't read over this when I finished.

Here's the first post of the stage-production au: [HERE]

Most of the cast were gone for the day, though the actors who had agreed to go out afterwards had lounged in the audience. Dimitri and Edelgard stood on opposite step ladders, as crewmen held them in place, going over the lines of their final battle with a choreographer and the director.

Dimitri would be atop a large dragon puppet someday, and Edelgard would be in her Hegemon construction, but for now, they were in t-shirts and jeans and trying their best to imagine what the final product might look like.

Hubert and Dedue stood by their sides, and had stopped crouching after the fourth recitation of their lines. By now had been brought chairs to sit upon, from which they each spoke their one line, to be shouted in production, as they supported the song shared by The Rightful King and The Flame Emperor in their epic moment.

From the orchestral pit, the production's vocal coach, Yuri, played an upright piano to guide their tune and tempo.

Hilda sat between Claude and Ferdinand in the audience. Each man whispering along with the song with a bounce of his head while she sunk into her seat, amused, and embarrassed by the prospect of joining them.

It was the most genial cast Hilda had ever worked with, and when Ferdinand, Edelgard, Manuela, Seteth and Lorenz had spoken of not drinking for seven weeks before a show, the bulk of the cast had agreed to go sober for the duration; though when they'd spoken of different dietary restrictions in the week leading up to production, there'd been very little consensus. Regardless, tonight would be the last hurrah for those who drank, as Hilda didn't anyway, and they were waiting to take their friends out for the night.

It was still relatively early as far as nights went, barely seven o'clock, but that was still late enough that people were missing dinner. Hilda could hear the crinkling of a paper bag from behind her, where Mercedes and Dorothea snacked on sweet and sour chicken balls.

After three more runs of the scene, Sweetpea, their stoic mint-haired director, declared, "I think that's it." They did their best to turn to address the rest of their team, in the wings and in the audience. "I'll see most of you in four days when we join Yuri for a, hopefully less chaotic, rendition of The Storm of Myrddin. Great work."

Hilda whistled loudly in support of her castmates, while her friends applauded and hollered. Dimitri bowed to their audience, and Hubert bowed to Edelgard who rolled her eyes and laughed as she exaggerated with one hand thrown skyward as she and Dimitri made their way down their respective stepladders.

"Thank you, Yuri," called Edelgard.

"Yes, thank you, Yuri," Dimitri agreed.

"We'll practice those low notes next time," Yuri answered, before waving up out of the pit to soften his implied criticisms. "You're welcome! We're getting there. There's a lot of range to cover."

Dimitri was still insecure by the time he joined his castmates in the aisles as they marched to the exit, "Did it sound that bad?"

"No," Claude snickered.

"It's Yuri's job to strive for perfection," Dedue observed.

Hilda held her hand in front of her lips for a moment, considering her contribution. Once they were outside, she jut her elbow into Dimitri's stomach so he grunted in surprise, stumbling back into Felix.

"Eugh!"

"Hey, watch it!"

Hilda shrugged. "Just remember that sensation?"

"Don't be mean," Sylvain exaggerated with a whine, giving Dimitri his sweater he'd been holding onto.

"No, I—" Dimitri tried to mimic the same position his mouth had been in, tongue drooping forward in his mouth as he sought the pitch of his exclamation.

"You broke him," Hubert declared, his brow furrowed, at the same time that Claude, Edelgard and Dedue were following Dimitri's example and carrying a deep monotonous tone.

Edelgard even turned it into a line that Yuri had probably been concerned with, that she would sing below The Rightful King's pleas, "So that none will suffer I must forfend—"

Dorothea answered her with The Rightful King's following line, "Living and dead, I will not forget those whom I defend."

"We're not doing that," Felix said, flat.

"Right," Annette agreed, which seemed to surprise him. "Resting voices."

"Resting voices," several people echoed.

.

They followed Dedue to a Duscur place for dinner, and wolfed down their wraps as they waited in line at a club that might be large enough to accommodate their large group.

"You didn't bring your date?" Lorenz asked Felix.

"We're not dating," Felix said, as if on instinct. He thought a moment. "Wasn't this just for cast?"

Lorenz shared a frown with Hilda before he assured Felix, "I doubt anyone would have complained even if you'd brought someone unrelated to the production. We'd have been happy to—"

"Don't listen to him," Claude said, turning from Leonie so he could wrap an arm around Lorenz. "Or I mean, do, because you could have brought anyone you'd wanted, but also don't because Lorenz just chickened out of asking the other make up artist to join us and hoped they'd have tagged along with Mia."

Felix snorted.

"That's not what happened," Lorenz objected.

"Oh, sweetie," Hilda contributed with a pout. "That's exactly what happened."

"We just got to talking, and I got distracted," Lorenz contributed.

"You forgot?" Felix asked, aghast. Hilda brought her hands to her lips, failing to hide her amusement.

"It didn't come up," Lorenz countered.

"That's not better," Claude said, shaking his head. Lorenz shrugged him off and flicked his chest with all four fingers.

"Fat lot of good friends like you are."

.

The second floor of the club was open to the elements, archways acting as windows to the brisk wind of evening, and the bright shine of sunset. The breeze and drinks were welcome, Mercedes, Dorothea and Hilda taking turns sitting with their pitchers, yellow with alcohol and pink without, to protect them just in case.

Hilda found herself distracted throughout the night, watching Claude as he dipped Lorenz, and nearly dropped Dimitri, and joined Dorothea in a samba that she and Annette were soundly better at.

They danced together only twice, the first time early in the evening before the dancers and the night had hit their stride, when there was more laughter and embarrassment in their fun than indulgence. The second time had been later in the evening, when he was flush and tipsy, to a ballad that had them swaying slowly with his hand politely between her shoulders. She'd thought about stepping closer into his space, resting her head on his chest, facing the brunt of his sweat and his cologne, but hesitated — partially because of their working relationship, but mostly because Sylvain and Mercedes had whistled about the way Hubert had held the small of Edelgard's back and she'd stretched back in a smooth, flowing dip.

It was maybe an hour later that Claude found Hilda seated at a table by a south-facing archway, the dim red of the western horizon a memory of the now fallen sun, the deep blue to the east twinkling with a few visible stars over a small lake and parkland.

"You having a good time?" Claude seemed more sober now than earlier, unlike some of their friends, and Hilda smiled softly, glad of his attention.

She nodded and ran her fingers under her eyes. "Just tired. Worked early before practice, and will again tomorrow."

"I'm glad you made it," Claude said sweetly, and Hilda rolled her eyes as she sucked on a straw from a cup that was mostly ice.

"No one would have missed me," she contributed, her gaze darting to where most of their colleagues were gathered, some of their friendships spanning years and others only as long as auditions, but generally they seemed to feel closer to each other than she really felt to them. So far, anyway.

She felt slower at forming these deep friendships that others seemed instinctually born with. She wondered if she'd know any of these people long enough for that to matter.

"I just said I would've," Claude insisted, crossing his arms as he leaned into the table. His hair was wilting around his face, framing thick eyebrows and dark lashes that half-hid his green eyes. He needed to curl them, Hilda thought idly.

She blushed and pushed at the ice in her glass with her straw. "You just owed me a few drinks for improvising with you in your audition."

Claude chuckled and hid his smile in his elbow for a moment. "That was kind of you," he allowed. He looked at her directly, and promised, "But it's not just that."

"No?" she peeped, half teasing, waiting on the joke or the reveal.

"No," he said at a whisper. "Would you want to come over to my place on one of our free nights? I could make you dinner? We could just run lines, or...?"

"Or?"

Claude blushed and they both snickered softly. He shifted back and forth against the table, forcing himself to sit up, running a hand over his chin, clean shaven for his part in their production.

"Or whatever you like."

His smile widened as she considered it, and she wondered if it was because he wasn't facing instinctual rejection or because he could tell that she was interested. When she nodded, his shoulders fell, as if suddenly relaxed. A lot of people had rules about not dating people they worked with, the risk of rejection and the pain of a breakup always had a chance of hurting a production, but she could see the value of taking a few moments of flattery too far. Even if Claude tucked his heart away from something more, even if they only ran lines, she was looking forward to it.

[the-dubstep-strawberry]

Just Passing Through

The sun was rising on another day in the Commonwealth, but as far as Lucas Miller was concerned, that bright, lazy son-of-a-bitch had had more than its fair share of rest. His day had started hours before dawn, with the bellowing of his restless pack Brahmin better than any alarm clock; he'd rolled up his sleeping bag and doused the dying embers of the campfire, while the two guards who traveled with his caravan grumbled over cups of the steaming homemade tea they brewed from Bloodleaf flowers.

It was Sunday, two days since his caravan had set out from Bunker Hill with its usual itinerary. Their destination was Tenpines Bluff, one of the Minutemen settlements. It was small - just a handful of settlers and their shacks, and the field of Tatos they tended - but the armor trade was brisk and there were always orders coming in from nearby Sanctuary Hills. General de Havilland and her growing band of men and women had become his best customers, he reflected, as he finished tying his bootlace and rose to his feet.

The Brahmin let out a long, low moo of protest as they set off walking again.

“All right, Ol' Girl,” he told the cow, patting the side of the head nearest him. “Not much further now. We'll rest up soon and get you fed and watered.”

As he walked, his eyes settled on the road ahead, at a point just below the horizon. It always paid to keep your eyes on the road. The caravan routes were safer now than they had been for some years, with the new Minutemen patrols on the roads, but his father had always warned him to be vigilant when traveling. There were still dangers to be found out here if you weren't wary – Bloodbugs and Stingwings had taken down more than their fair share of Brahmin, and sometimes people. There were Raiders too - fewer than there used to be, but still the occasional brave or foolhardy group who took their chances. Gunners, for the most part, knew better than to disrupt the trade routes that they depended on for their own weapons, armor and chems, but some of the hotheaded ones preferred to do their negotiating down the barrel of a gun when disagreements arose. Yao Guai, Radscorpions and Deathclaws were the worst, he thought, shuddering. And Mirelurks. He hated Mirelurks.

One of the guards looked up at the sound of a distant noise. Lucas looked up too, and saw the shapes coming over the horizon; another pack Brahmin, heavily laden with boxes and bundles of goods which rattled and rustled and jingled as the two-headed cow trudged along, hooves thudding on ancient asphalt. No guards accompanied the beast of burden, but a person he recognized was walking alongside it; a weary-looking woman in a familiar blue jacket.

“Carla,” he greeted her. “How's business?”

“You again,” she said dryly. “Here to trade?”

He nodded.

“Mm-hmm. The usual. Tenpines Bluff and back again.”

“Need to pick something up? Road's pretty long from here.”

Lucas smiled. Trashcan Carla, as the locals called her, sold junk, but it was good junk – household goods, odds and ends, useful scrap scavenged from old ruins and sold to whoever had enough caps in their pocket. Sometimes she sold bulk goods, oil and steel, wood and screws, things that homesteaders and builders would put to good use as they staked their claim in the wastes, putting down foundations for farms and families. The General was a regular customer, she'd said once, as they'd stopped to chat in Bunker Hill between trips. Always building, and rebuilding, wherever she went.

“You keep traveling and I'm sure we'll do business by and by,” he replied politely.

“Maybe next time,” she said, amused. “All right then. Safe travels.”

“Safe travels to you too.”

They passed alongside each other, perfectly parallel; their Brahmin brushed past each other with long lowing noises, and the guards both nodded in Carla's direction; the small greeting designed to acknowledge each other's presence without getting caught up in conversation when you had other places to be, which she returned in kind.

Safe travels. That was the traditional farewell when your paths led you in different directions, no matter who your fellow travelers were. Farmers venturing out to bigger settlements to sell baskets of bulbous purple Mutfruits and bundles of Razorgrain; the provisioners who traveled between the smaller settlements, entrusted with the essential tasks of delivering goods and messages to their neighbors, smartly dressed in the Pre-War postal uniforms that the Minutemen issued to make their role look more “official”; the Minutemen patrols themselves, in worn jeans and yellow jackets and the militia hats popularized by Colonel Preston Garvey, the General's second-in-command; and occasionally a passing squad of Power-Armored soldiers from the Brotherhood of Steel, who might reply with a salute and a gruff response of “Citizen”, if they were feeling talkative that day.

The General wore Power Armor too, sometimes, when she wasn't wearing her famous tricorn hat and military overcoat. He'd been told that she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel herself, in addition to leading her own army; he'd seen her out and about a few times with the former Paladin Danse, who had been forced out of the faction he'd once served over some internal disagreement, if the news reports on the radio were to be believed. For someone who'd lost everything, he decided, the man had looked surprisingly happy. He supposed he would be too, if he had a beautiful woman like the General following him wherever he went...

“Who's that behind us?” said one of the guards, by his side.

Lucas blinked, and turned around to look. Sure enough, there were two more Brahmin coming up behind them, and a few more shapes, human ones – two were caravan guards, much like his, with leather armor and suspicious scowls, and rifles slung on their backs. A third person was the merchant they guarded, a bearded man in a long coat and sturdy armored boots.

“Haven't seen him before,” he responded. “Not a local, by the looks of him. Must be from outside the Commonwealth.”

The second guard, the younger one, took the hunting rifle from his back in readiness, but the first one shook his head.

“Settle down, kid, they're just traders,” he told the other. “Wrong armor for Raiders and they're hauling too much gear. Raiders travel light round these parts, and they tend to hole up somewhere and stay put. Besides, they would've taken pot-shots at us by now. And Gunners make more of an entrance. Nothing to worry about.”

The second guard reluctantly lowered his rifle again.

“Yeah, I guess so. Who's that with them?”

There were two other people with the approaching caravan, Lucas noticed, as they got closer and the second Brahmin came into view. A young woman in a Vault suit and a leather jacket was trudging alongside the animal, complaining loudly about her aching feet; the other was a little boy, mop-haired and freckle-faced, sitting on the Brahmin's back and holding onto its neck as best he could. He was about four or five, Lucas supposed, and his clothes were slightly too big for him, although wasteland kids tended to wear clothes that didn't fit them too well, and slightly too big was always considered better than slightly too small. He and the woman had clearly come a long distance, perhaps even further than the others; they both looked tired and travel-worn, their clothes and boots thick with dust from the road.

“Hey,” called out the woman. “Hey, you! Wait up!”

Lucas and the guards stopped walking.

“Whoa there,” he told his own Brahmin, and Ol' Girl obediently came to a halt. “Let's see what they want.”

The other caravan drew closer, hurrying to catch them up, and then stopped right behind Ol' Girl, who looked unimpressed by the presence of the other two Brahmin; she mooed at one when it tried to get too close, and one of its guards shooed it away a few feet.

“Hey, friend,” Lucas greeted the newcomers. “Looks like you've come a long way. Where are you headed?”

“That's just it,” said the woman, cutting in before the other trader could speak. “We're… kind of lost. Could you give us some directions? You're from round here, right?”

Lucas nodded.

“Aye. Name's Lucas Miller. I sell armor for Old Man Stockton's outfit. Based out of Bunker Hill,” he told her. “And who might you be?”

The young woman frowned, and he was suddenly reminded of the way the General frowned; the purse of her lips, a slight wrinkling at the bridge of a shapely nose, and the furrowing of a pale brow that hadn't seen very much of the outdoors.

“Best you don't ask her that,” the trader beside her interjected. “Bit of a sore topic. She's given us three fake names already, and she didn't speak to us for a day and a half when we tried to get the real one out of her.”

“How about yours, then?” Lucas tried again.

“Name's Cartwright,” said the man, with more enthusiasm. “I sell junk, mostly, odds and ends, but there's a few bits of tech the Brotherhood boys might be interested in.”

“Don't think we've met before,” Lucas remarked. “What brings you all the way out here? I take it you're not from the Commonwealth.”

Cartwright laughed.

“You're right about that, my friend. We came up here from the Capital Wasteland.”

Lucas couldn't keep the surprise from his face.

“That's quite a way to travel for a pile of junk,” he said, in spite of himself. “Just those odds and ends bringing you out here?”

This time Cartwright shook his head.

“No, not really. Wouldn't have journeyed this far, but an old friend called in a favor. You know Daisy? From Goodneighbor?”

Lucas nodded. He knew her; the Pre-War Ghoul who ran Daisy's Discounts, although he rarely frequented Goodneighbor, where the locals were more interested in chems and ammunition than armor.

“Then you'll know how persuasive she can be,” said Cartwright, with a chuckle. “No saying no to a woman like that, is there? So I promised her we - ”

The woman standing beside him gave him a sharp look. If her eyes had narrowed a little more, her expression might have nailed him to the ground.

“They told us not to talk about why we're here,” she reminded him. Her voice was less pointed than her expression, but the hint of danger was unmistakable; there was a flash of steel in the violet-blue eyes. “Mercenaries out there, remember? Gunners, or whatever they call themselves. If that guy reports back to them and they find out why we're here, then we're in a whole world of trouble.”

Lucas shook his head at that. Gunners were, on the whole, bad for business. Angering them somehow seemed like an even worse commercial decision.

“I won't ask, then,” he said firmly. “I stay out of the affairs of others. No good comes of it.”

This time the woman gave him a friendlier look; still cool, but more appreciative.

“Smart man. Sorry. Nothing personal, but the instructions we had were pretty clear. All we want is a nod in the right direction.”

“I think I can help with that,” Lucas volunteered. “Where is it you're wanting to go?”

The woman paused to roll up her sleeve. There was a Pip-Boy on her wrist; a rare sight, thought Lucas, although the Vault suit now made more sense. There was a trading post at Vault 81, one of the few that still functioned and hadn't killed its Pre-War inhabitants in the process, and a few regulars came out to barter for goods they needed. Those Vault-dwellers tended not to travel too far from their home, although the General herself hadn't been able to get out of hers fast enough. Frozen, they'd said, before the war; what a world she'd emerged into, and how different it must have been from the one she'd left behind.

“Sanctuary,” she said, after checking an entry on the screen. “Or Sanctuary Hills. Heights. Something like that.”

“Sanctuary Hills?” Lucas suggested. “That the one you mean?”

The woman made an irritable noise, and waved her hand impatiently.

“Whatever. Close enough. But yeah, that's where we're going. We have a delivery we need to make.”

“Special delivery!” the little boy said proudly, from atop the Brahmin's back. “That's me!”

The woman smiled, perhaps a bit distantly, and ruffled the kid's hair.

“Yeah, that's you. Good job, kiddo, you've told everyone we met so far. So much for not talking to strangers. Your dad's not going to be pleased with me if we run into anyone who's not the friendly type.”

“You don't need to worry about that, miss,” Lucas' older guard assured her. “The Minutemen don't take kindly to folk who harass travelers on the road, and that goes double for kids. Mess with someone's child, steal them away or what have you, and the General will get to hear about it. You might be worried about mercenaries, but trust me, they're more worried about her.”

The young woman smirked.

“Hmm. And I thought Talon Company were scared of me back home. Sounds like this General is a woman to be reckoned with.”

“You'll reckon with her soon enough,” said Lucas, raising his eyebrows. “Sanctuary is her home and it's well-guarded. Turrets and watch towers and the like. You mind yourself when you visit and be sure to make a proper introduction. Strangers who won't give their names aren't the welcome kind.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Fine. If she wants to know who I am that badly, I'll be sure to tell her. Now can you tell us how to get there?”

“That I can,” Lucas told her. “Here, let me see that Pip-Boy of yours. I'll mark it on your map.”

The younger of his two guards muttered something to the other about Colonel Garvey, and the other let out a small chuckle. Lucas ignored them, and studied the screen, patterned in green and black. The topography seemed less familiar from above than it did at eye level, but he followed the road until he saw some landmarks he recognized.

“Concord's that way, and then the Red Rocket station. Follow the road up north and cross the Old North Bridge. It's dead ahead, you can't miss it.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, as he let go of her arm again. “Appreciate the help, Mr. Miller.”

“Not a problem. Any armor for you today?”

She shook her head.

“No, thanks. I think we're good.”

Lucas shook his head too. He'd been selling his wares to wastelanders for many years, and it was the bold and foolish ones who went away empty-handed. Still, there was something in the woman's expression that suggested that it would be more foolish still to try to grab her unawares, and there were subtle hints in the way she moved that suggested that her blue-and-yellow Vault jumpsuit had already been customized to her liking, and that she was more than adequately armed and armored.

“As you say. Well, safe travels then,” he concluded. “Good luck with whatever it is you're here to do. And give my regards to Daisy, when you see her.”

“Thanks, we will,” said Cartwright, with a friendly gesture. “Good to meet you, Lucas. And travel safe yourself. Perhaps we'll see each other again on the road.”

They parted ways, and the caravan moved on ahead of them, faster now that they were moving with more purpose. Lucas heard the little boy pipe up:

“Will we see Daddy soon?”

“Don't worry, Duncan, we're almost there,” she said casually. “They said he'll be there waiting for you. Been a while, too, hasn't it? I bet he can't wait to see you again…”

Their voices were already fading on the wind, dwindling in the distance as they followed the road and disappeared over the hill. Lucas shrugged, and gave his Brahmin a gentle nudge.

“Don't mind them, Ol' Girl. They're just passing through. Off we go now, there's a good girl.”

The Brahmin made some vaguely displeased noises and swished her tail a few times, but started to lumber off in the right direction again, unfazed by the goods on her back and the steeper incline as they followed their usual path.

As they climbed up the hill, Lucas caught another glimpse of the travelers from the Capital Wasteland; a long way to travel, he thought, and an even longer journey back if they hoped to avoid the greenish clouds that were already rumbling ominously over the Glowing Sea. It seemed a great deal of effort to go to, just to bring a small child all the way out here.

Still, he thought, as he turned his gaze toward the small cluster of shacks and caught sight of the bright blue Minutemen flag waving above Tenpines Bluff, they probably had their reasons.