#glad to have it out of my small backlog though

[carcharsaur]

alright I finished another game, this time it's amnesia: crowd

^a succinct summary of my thoughts on this series as a whole this came out as a 2-in-1 pack on the switch last year, bundled with amnesia: later as both are follow-ups to the original amnesia: memories but I had to take a uh. almost 7 month break after finishing "later" because I literally have to build up an immunity to the parts of these games in particular that piss me off. but also I still really really like kent so I keep buying it LOL I'll put my deranged unfocused rambling under the cut though

my fav parts of this game were the "suspense" scenario things for ikki and kent, most the "work" scenarios and then like basically everything else is just "ehh" or actively grated me.... the after stories were weird also because some of them had to jump around to avoid overlapping with the after stories from "later" which for the most part I liked much better (for the characters I actually care about anyway). I'm too lazy to go into real gritty detail but a lot of stuff just felt regressive compared to the developments that happened in the first FD!?!? and I don't understand why.... it felt like suddenly they had to be a god-fearing christian game.. was there some controversy back in the day when they first were developing this for the vita LMAO it might just be I'm weary with it's... extremely stereotypical japanese 'demure woman vs voracious men' thing but it felt worse than normal. I think I might just spoiled from playing games that are as good as cupid parasite but also just most newer otome games being more comfortable with talking about sex in a way that doesn't feel fucking insane to me. there's making a nonsexual or asexual friendly mc/game and then there's "how are you alive" levels of airheaded unawareness that are just plainly grating.

I will hand it to this game that it finally did make my like ukyo more than I did through the first two games, where I thought he was just very "whatever" but despite the like... weirdass nature of "evil alter ego" they ended up resolving it in a way I think was pretty good and fully undid the initial game's thing about supernatural mental illness = inherent evil nature uh oh!!! but he still has hilarious joker mode sprites so it's still like. funny as hell but also taking itself seriously? at least I'm amused instead of completely checked out I still want toma to just die forever, hate his whole character and the dynamic he has with the heroine and I WONTTTT say more because I will write 3 paragraphs analyzing his character and tearing into how much I hate his fucking writing and how gross every bit of his execution feels. shin is still just unsatisfying as hell and actively frustrating at times (STOP BRINGING UP WHEN YOU WERE ALL 6 YEARS OLD YOU'RE LIKE 19-20 YEARS OLD MANN) also I'm still bearing a grudge on whoever did voice direction for the game because I'd never imagine kakihara would be so boring to listen to!!!!!! ikki was a little funny, sometimes good, but other times just... eyerolls forever and ever and less interesting than in the first FD and thennnn kent is still one of my fav LIs ever, to the point that I still don't know how someone that wrote him and his dynamic with the heroine and then also wrote the rest of these damn games... but his after story frustrated the fuck out of me. it wasn't necessarily ooc but just a couple of the narrative choices they made for it were unfitting and felt contradictory with the "later" route which is somehow still canon and so I was left kind of conflicted and frustrated with it.

the work scenarios were all cute though, and I enjoyed the really good side characters still being involved in the unlockable mini scenarios (except the New side character is just straight ass no question about it) but the minigames were tediously time consuming to get all of them unlocked =_= also kent was SO good in it that I wish his canon route had their coworker dynamic... instead of "math tutor to rival to lovers" LOL

and other than the ones I mentioned earlier, the "suspense" scenarios were just.... mehhh... and the fact I did enjoy kent and ikki's a lot leads me to think it's not just me. or it's just because I do not care for the other characters much LOL maybe both also the unlockable scene with orion, it's not outright 'wrong' sure but it's so fucking weird man. obviously gross bait. wish it wasn't there lmao

anyway taking a complete left turn, to me in my delusional mind palace they're a throuple with an adorable adopted child. or ikki is the mother👍

(the other half of this cg has all the other LIs pointedly avoiding holding hands with each other so this is real TO MEEE because ikki and kents dynamic is so fun forever also this:)

also, pointlessly, here's my fav clip

[mittensmorgul]

2023 in Mittens Fic

It's once again time for the annual accounting of things I have written! I think this year's total fic count, at 4, is my lowest ever, but I still managed more words than my two lowest years (peak pandemic, i loathe you still).

For reference, past year end summaries can be found here:

2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | the closest thing I have to a 2015 wrap up post is the lil bit of text at the bottom of 2016′s post… even though my two most popular fics were from 2015 lololol

So I guess my main writing goal for 2024, since I know I will never surpass my 2015 totals, is to just do better than I did in 2023. Here's to more fic!

I managed a Pinefest fic, a fic I started for DCBB but didn't finish by the draft deadline and posted on my own, an annual destielversary fic, and an annual holiday fic. I think that's the bare minimum of what I try to aim for in a year, so even if I'm personally disappointed I didn't get anything else written in addition to that bare minimum, I'm glad I was at least able to hit that goal. Across this year's four posted fics, there's a total of 110,875 words.

Also, again slightly cheating, but since I've mentioned it for the past two years, I'm still making the @spngeorg podcast! In case the millions of words of meta I've written over the years aren't enough, and you want to hear me yell out loud about the show, you can start from the beginning on Spotify or wherever you enjoy podcasts! Or if that sounds daunting, since I just uploaded Episode 138, 7.12 Time After Time, which makes the backlog a lot to catch up on honestly, you're also welcome to just jump in now. Everyone please come yell with me! I swear, if you do start from the beginning, that I get dramatically better at this whole thing as we go on... at least, I think I have. If nothing else, episodes are far more manageably shorter now that I've developed a system. Only took 2 1/2 years, but here we are... :'D

With that business out of the way, let's break down those numbers! Presented in the order they posted:

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 (63,433 words rated M) Written for @deancaspinefest with gorgeous art by @alexiescherryslurpy, and inspired by this tumblr post that had been plaguing my imagination for several years. It's a two person love triangle with Forest Ranger and secret bestselling author Dean and small town librarian Cas. Heck I want to go reread it just thinking about it now... this is a happy place fic for me.

one working part (40,051 words, rated E) I started this for DCBB, but failed to make the draft deadline, then finished it before posting began anyway... another canon finale fix-it fic, but this one is heavily It's A Wonderful Life flavored and based on a conversation I had with @greywrenn last year. This story picks up at the beginning of 15.19, and then slowly veers more and more from canon, running alongside canon and making rude hand gestures at canon along the way, because they all deserved to have nicer things than canon gave them.

all the time in the world (1,289 words, rated T) This is my annual Destielversary story, short and sweet. It's set immediately after the events of One Working Part, but you don't have to have read that to enjoy this one. Just know Cas is back with Dean, and they've got the rest of their lives stretched out in front of them.

Christmas, Present (6,102 words, rated T) My annual holiday fluff fic, this time set in an AU, since most of my past holiday fic has been canon universe. A Dean/Cas college AU, with Matchmaker Charlie who just wants her friends to be happy already!

And that's my year in fic (unless I manage to post something else in the next 33 hours or so, and lol no that ain't happening...)! As per usual, I've already written more than half of this year's word total for the 2024 Pinefest, which will post in March... or april... heck when is my posting date even... it's coming soon anyway! But it's all written! :'D

Once again, I've still got so many more stories I want to write. Even the To Be Written list has grown again. My idea list long ago surpassed SABLE status, and yet now there's even more on it...

It's five pages, and two thousand words longer than it was last year. this just gets worse every year :'D

But that means I'll never run out of things to write, and that's always something to celebrate!

Thanks again to everyone who’s read, kudos’ed, commented, reblogged, liked, rec’ed, and enjoyed anything I’ve written in the last year. I love you all. <3 See you in 2024!

[poupeesdecirque]

Here he is ....

... random funfact: he can't sit down his pants are too tight. Doll Lavi will never sit in a chair :'D this makes me laugh so much. Also I love how the sizes for him and Bookman turned out, it was such a good decision to get the small body for Bookman.

Still can't believe he is done. 1 1/2 years after I bought the first shell, a bit over a year after I got told he will not happen. I had given up on him to be honest.

For those who are interested, more insight babbling under the cut:

As I got the new head I was not sure if I could make it work for Lavi, the promotional photos were a bit blurred, I just hoped for the best. The arrival was not .. sparking much for me as he was just too tainted still. The thing I enjoy the most was making wigs and even that was kind of not working for him bc the fiber was weird to deal with. I decided to give him the body I originally bought for Kanda as the other one would mess up their heights, so he became a full doll earlier. As the body got shipped I painted the head and was still pretty bummed about it but I wanted to give it a try at least.

When I finally started working towards my emotional backlog regarding the dolls and wrote a blog entry about my 'tainted' dolls it somehow .. clicked for me? Like, I had painted the head short before I wrote the entry and I went the next day and repainted him, somehow I felt like the burden was gone and I started to bond with him???

January was a super intense doll month for me, I worked through more dolls than I did in the year prior, went down from overall 14 Work in Progress dolls to ... 6. That still baffles me a bit as majority was sewing and I don't even like sewing that much.

I got the first two days of February off and decided to give Lavi a try, he felt like a bottomless pit with all the details but somehow working on him, especially the harder parts, was ... okay? Like, yeah, it took forever bc it was so much hand stitching but as I went slow and had expierence from Lenalee & Bookman I was able to trust my skills.

On the third day as I cut the wig and put him next to my window for the almost final photos I just was in denial that he was done. I added the hammer then and ... I have a Lavi.

A doll I had given up upon, it feels like the "preorders of hell" are finally done, at least mentally, the whole situation, I feel like I am more free again. I enjoy having projects of course but it was a mental burden and it's almost gone.

Edit:

I have to say, now, 2 months after finishing him, getting in character photos of him done is hard as the face is limited and I kind of regret getting that body as it's just a brick. I'm glad though i swapped it as Kanda needs a body that allows more movement, Lavi in general is not the type for dynamic poses. Overall I still have to get used to him, but it's like that with a lot of dolls. The Storyteller needed 2 years :')

[thestalwartheart]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for the tag, @aniron48 ❤️ This was such a nice way to wrap up this year, and to remember what I'd written!

Tagging @cicerfics @dixkens @dassandre-00qpidsarrow @boffin1710 @samanthahirr and whoever else wants to play along!

Answers under the cut!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 82! I feel like I blacked out and blinked and woke up with a horrifying number of fics!

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 385,997 😨

3. What fandoms do you write for? James Bond mostly. Also Glass Onion/Knives Out. I don't write for The Witcher anymore, but I have in the past. On my laptop is a lot of unfinished Star Trek fic - mainly Kirk/Spock - and a crack at some Arthur/Eames (from Inception).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

being with you (is the best of all)

date, interrupted

the places you leave in the dust

a rank above

by any other name

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do try to, and I mostly succeed. I like to thank people for investing their time with my work, and I also like getting to know people in fandom. There's still 100+ comments I need to get back to, and some of them are very old. I will get to them though!!! I promise!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Anything involving the MCD tag. There was also a short called garden that was very sad for other reasons.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Either being with you (is the best of all) or dispatches from the division.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really, though I've had a few rude comments and bookmark notes. One person let me know across three chapters that they hated my characterisation of Bond so much they were tempted to rewrite the ending! But most people are lovely. The Bond fandom is small and most of us have our heads screwed on the right way.

9. Do you write smut? Frequently and without shame. There are 29 E-rated fics in my backlog for your reading pleasure.

10. Do you write crossovers? I have a Knives Out/James Bond crossover series where Bond and Blanc are detectives competing for Q's attention.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes and I am endlessly grateful for people who are more talented with languages than I am ❤️

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Just a team poem for 007 Fest, though I have worked with beta readers.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? Kirk/Spock forever.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I had a multiverse fic I posted a chapter of that I don't think I have the energy for anymore. I was so undecided about the ending that I lost interest in writing it.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm good with characters and details. My writing has been called immersive by a few people, and I do really pride myself on building atmosphere. I think I can turn a good phrase occasionally too!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I need to get better at proofreading for typos. I'm quite lazy with plotting and planning as well. I definitely need to work on that for an original novel I'm writing!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I only do it if it's necessary, and I'm so glad AO3 now has a hover feature for immediate translation. One of my pet peeves at uni was how often scholars used random French and Latin words or phrases when they didn't need to!!!

19. First fandom you wrote for? HP, probably. Or Glee. Those fics have been purged from the internet now 😂

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Either dispatches from the division or the WIP I'm in the process of posting now, called the age of change.

Shout out to everyone who has made it to the end! As a reward, please enjoy this picture of my cat flopped over in her cat tree ❤️

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 17

word count - 2.4k warnings - Just some typical Morgan and Garcia flirting. Summary: Lina; Writing reports and making plans for Saturday…again.

The next morning, I wake up and go about my normal routine, trying to be quiet in case Val's still sleeping. Walking out of my apartment, I get the idea to grab a few doughnuts with coffee this morning, walking instead to a local bakery before going for coffee. Walking into the building, I look over the menu quickly, trying to think of what to get. 

When it's my turn, I asked the cashier if I could get a Boston creme donut, a chocolate glazed with sprinkles, and a cinnamon roll. After grabbing the bags she hands me, I pay and walk out to get coffee, trying to get there quickly so I can make the Metro.

After picking up the coffee, I rush to my stop, getting there just as it's pulling up and other people are getting on. I slow down to pay, then head on, looking for Spencer. Finding him in his typical spot, I sit down near him and ask, "Hey, how was your flight back?"

He looks over at me and smiles, saying, "Oh, not too bad. How do you feel, after having your first case?"

"Oh, I'm ok. That was...pretty intense, though. Kinda glad for paperwork today." I say, handing him his coffee.

Still grinning, he remarks, "See? Didn't I tell you?" gladly taking it.

I nod and say, "Yeah, you did...hey, did you want one of the donuts I got? I figured it'd be a bit of a pick-me-up after...y'know, the case and everything."

He frowns slightly and asks, "I...are you sure?", his eyebrows creasing.

I chuckle and say, "Well, yeah. I've got a Boston Creme, a chocolate glazed with sprinkles, and a cinnamon roll. Which would you like?"

Seeing his eyes light up slightly at the mention of the chocolate glazed one, as he stammers, I hand him the bag containing said donut. He opens it, and smiles, closing it back up and shyly saying, "Thanks, Lina. These are my favorite, actually..."

I grin and say, "Oh, yeah? Guess it's pretty fortuitous that was one of the ones I got, huh?"

He nods as he signals for our stop. As we walk off and towards work, we talk a little bit about what we expect the day to bring us, walking into the building and the elevators. 

As we get close to where we must part ways, I smile and say a little jokingly, "See you at lunch, Doc. Hopefully, Derek doesn't get too jealous of the donut and coffee this morning."

Spencer just chuckles and says, "No promises he won't. I'll see you at lunch, Lina."

Walking into the Command Center, I see Penny already there, typing away. She spins around as I set my things down, pulling out the two bags with the pastries in them. "Before you ask, Pen, I made sure to get something for you, too. Now, Boston Creme or cinnamon roll?" I ask, a bag in each hand.

"Ooh, I'll take the cinnamon roll! And if this is an attempt to butter me up with treats, I fully accept," she says with a giggle, taking the bag as I hand her the one with the roll.

Sitting down and having my coffee and donut, Penny and I work on filling out our reports, going back and forth, making sure we've filled them out thoroughly. Between the two of us, we managed to get them both done rather quickly.

"So, what do we do in the meantime? Do we go get the ones from the others and start putting them in, or do we go through the backlogs and put those in, or..." I ask, spinning to talk to Penny.

"I mean, either one would work. Personally, I'm fine with just...chillin' here until lunch..." she says, leaning back in her chair.

As she does that, there's a knock on the half-open door, and Hotch comes in with a few folders, saying, "Garcia, here's a few that are done, whenever you get the chance to put them in."

She scrambles to sit back up as she takes them from him, saying, "Sir. Yes, Sir." and hands me one of the folders.

He stops, looks at me, and nods, saying, "And Aschebrooke. Whenever you both have the time."

Giving him a small smile, I say, "Yes, Sir," and start looking over the folder to start inputting it.

It takes us a few hours to type them up, and I marvel at how much more information they have to write down, being out in the field, dealing with the unsub up close and personal. A little before lunch, JJ comes in with a light knock, bringing another 2 and saying, "Hey, guys. Here's a few more for you..."

"We'll get right on them, my lovely," Penny says, taking them from her and handing me one.

Working on the new folder, it isn't too long before there's another knock at the door, and looking up, I see Spencer there. Grinning, I say, "Oh, you've got some for us, too?"

"Uh, n-not yet, we are still going for lunch though, right?" he says sheepishly.

"Go ahead, my young apprentice. It'll still be here when you get back." Penny says, still typing away.

Grinning, I grab my bag, saying a quick, "Thanks, Pen," over my shoulder, and walk with Spencer to grab something to eat. After getting our food, we sit down, and Spencer asks, "So, what books were you looking to get Saturday?"

"Oh, uh, it's some of the ones from the list you gave me," I say with a small smile, reaching into my purse for the pieces of paper in there, the list Spencer wrote for me, and the few books I wrote down to find.

"You...you kept the list?" he asks, incredulously.

"Well, yeah, Spence. I meant it when I said I appreciated you doing that for me. Why wouldn't I keep it?" I ask, smoothing out the papers and showing him the books I wrote down.

Flushing and with a small smile on his face, Spencer looks over the small list I've made. "Oh, these are good ones, Lina," he says, looking over the titles.

"Yeah?" I ask, grinning as I look at him.

"Yeah. They're all very interesting, and cover a wide variety of topics, too," he says, sliding the piece of paper back over to me.

"I was afraid I was all over the place on the books' subjects, but these just kinda struck me as interesting, plus the stuff I've heard about them made me want to read them," I said, putting the papers back in my bag.

"That's all that matters, that you want to read them. I can absolutely help you look for those on Saturday," he says.

As we begin to eat our meals, I nod, then ask, "Is there anything you were gonna be looking for when we go, Doc?"

Spencer shakes his head, then says, "No, not really. Probably just look for something that catches my eye."

I nod again, and we continue eating lunch and making small talk. After we clean up, we start slowly walking back to finish the reports. As I turn to walk back to Penny, I say to Spencer, "See you for the ride home, Doc."

"See you then, Lina," he says, heading to his desk.

Making my way back into the room, I sit in my seat and get back to work. After maybe 10 minutes or so, Penny walks in, scurrying to her chair. "Hey, how was your lunch?" she asks, getting settled.

"Oh, it was nice. Yours?" I reply, turning to look at her momentarily.

"Mine was good as well, sweets. Well, back to it, I suppose..." she says, sighing and starting to type.

We continue like that for a good hour or so, when there's another knock at the door. Derek leans in, saying, "Hey, Baby Girl, got my and Reid's reports, if you're ready for them."

Penny spins around in her chair and smiles coyly at him, saying, "For you, Hot Stuff, I'm ready for anything you wanna give me."

I snort at the exchange and continue typing. Derek comes over to me and says, "What's wrong, Songbird? You gettin' jealous? I can always get Pretty Boy in here so you can flirt, too."

I scoff while blushing and say, "We-we don't flirt, Derek. We're friends."

"So the coffees and the donuts and the nicknames aren't flirting, got it. My bad..." he says, a sly smile on his face as he starts to back out of the room.

"Hey..." I start, pouting a little.

"Oh, I'm just teasing, Songbird. You two are just fun to watch, is all." Derek says, turning and leaving.

Penny scooches her chair over and hands me a folder, then rolls back over to her computer. I finish putting in the last of Elle's report, then open up the folder Penny gave me, familiar handwriting greeting me.

I chuckle and say, "You gave me this one on purpose, didn't you?" while turning to look at her.

She turns and gives me a playful smile, saying, "I have no idea what you're talking about..."

I tilt my head and give her a look, and she bursts into giggles. I grin at her and turn back around, quickly getting to work on typing in the last report of the day.

After a few more hours, it's finally time to head home. As we file out, Hotch calls everyone over to tell us that next week we'll be heading to Florida to interview a serial killer couple before they're sent to the electric chair, and we'll be given more details tomorrow.

After most of the agents head towards the elevator, I rush over to talk to Hotch.

"Um, Sir, I, uh, I have my finals next week. Is-is that going to count against me, or..." I start to stammer out.

He gives me a look as I trail off, then tells me, "No, Aschebrooke, that's fine. Garcia will be able to handle this solo. Good luck on your finals," then gives me a slight smile.

I breathe a quick sigh of relief and say, "Thank you, Sir," then turn and rush to the elevator.

"You ok there, hon? One second you were there, and the next you weren't." Penny asks me, standing there with Derek and Spencer.

Flushing, I say, "Oh, uh, yeah, I just had to tell Hotch that I have my finals next week, so I won't be going with you guys." We all step into the elevator as the doors open.

Penny pouts slightly, then says, "Aw, you're gonna miss Florida..."

I chuckle and say, "That's ok, Pen. After next week, I'll be done with school, and won't miss any other work excursions."

"Hey, yeah, when is graduation then, Songbird?" Derek asks.

"Oh, uh, the usual time, May," I say.

"May what?" Penny says, a smile creeping onto her face.

"O-oh, um, May 20th?" I reply.

Penelope hums and looks over at the two men, then back to me and smiles. The elevator dings open, and we step out.  "See you guys tomorrow!" I say as Spencer and I start our walk to the Metro.

We're a little bit down the sidewalk when Spencer says, "She's going to try to plan something for your graduation, you know. Garcia loves to throw a party."

I look at him, then say, "Really? That's not necessary, I'd be happy to just have people to hang out with after."

Spencer chuckles, then says, "Well, you can tell her that, but there's no guarantee she won't try to do something for it."

Strolling towards the station, I'm quiet in thought for a moment, then say, "Honestly? I'd just like to have someone there to see me at my graduation. I don't even think my parents will be able to come..."

I look at Spencer, who's looking at me thoughtfully. I continue.

"I mean, between them needing to take time off work and having to deal with big city traffic...I just don't think it'd be doable." I say softly.

He nods, but I can practically see the next question bubbling up in his mind.

"Val will be there, just, she's also graduating, so..." I trail off, looking at my feet as we walk.

Sitting on a bench as we wait for the Metro, Spencer clears his throat and says, "Lina, you know, we, um, we can be there when you get your degree, if you-if you'd want..."

I look at him and smile, then quietly say, "I'd love that, Spencer. If-if you guys aren't busy, I mean."

Smiling at me, he says, "Yeah, I think we'll be able to do that. As long as..."

I quickly hold up my hands to stop him, saying with a giggle, "I know, I know, don't say it though! I've learned my lesson with that!"

As the Metro pulls up, Spencer and I head to our seats, and he asks, "So, um, for Saturday,"

"Yeah?" I say, tilting my head slightly to look at him.

"D-did you want to do th-the same time? Try for 10?" he asks, fidgeting with the sleeve of his cardigan.

I grin and say, "Yeah, but if we wind up meeting a little earlier like last time, I won't mind either."

A quick, nervous smile flickers over his face before he says, "A-and we'll be starting at the same place, right?"

"If you want to, we could start elsewhere if you'd like," I say.

"N-no, it's perfect, actually. There are two different bookstores near there, so we wouldn't have to do much traveling. If-if that was ok with you." Spencer says shyly.

Grinning broadly, I reply, "Yeah, that sounds awesome, Doc. I can't wait!"

Taking a breath and returning my smile, he softly says, "Yeah, I can't either..."

Eyeing my stop, I signal to get off, turning to Spencer and saying with a smile, "See you tomorrow, Doc."

Before I head off, I see him give me a small wave and a half-smile.

Previous chapter

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Story masterlist

[gear-project]

DEAR SANTA

Lots of stuff happened this year, not sure how I'll continue to deal with it, but somehow I will.

But, I owe you a big thank-you, Santa...

See, thing of it is, I finally got to talk with my family again recently, and no, I don't mean the guy I don't get along with, I mean the family I DO GET ALONG WITH.

You know how it goes...

I was also yet again reminded of my mortality... I don't know what I'm gonna do moving forward, but I also think about the people who have supported me over the years and I really want to do something nice for them if you got any ideas...

I've been feeling rather down lately, Santa... gifts to me feel like something of a matter of course in my solitary household (i.e. buying gifts for myself and nobody else)... just lots of ideas and concepts people put together to make toys and games and other things, but... I feel like I get stuck on the stuff I currently own and can't move on to newer things very easily.

Someone recently confronted me about my taste in games, and their point of view makes me out to be something of a bully when it comes to fighting games... But they're the minority and only real exception I've come across: everyone else I know is more than capable of being competitive and improving their skills...

Well, I guess there ARE some rare people who just aren't cut out to have a game controller or joystick in their hands... but, it bothers me that said people sometimes give up far too easily. I wish I could fix that self-condemning mindset others can have.

In terms of my recent tastes, I've been overly obsessed with forging weapons in Soul Calibur... I know it's weird to have a hobby over a game that rarely gets played except in small circles but... I just got the itch to craft powerful weapons for each of the game's respective fighting styles (Libra of Souls is very fun, even after several years this game has been out).

I still have my eyes on DNF Duel, The Rumble Fish 2+, and also GranBlue Fantasy Versus Rising (among many other titles). To say nothing of my gaming backlog and my PC that STILL needs to get fixed.

But, if I had to say the greatest gift you've given me, Santa... it's the gift to stay positive in a world of negative opinions and bias.

I've struggled a great deal with some people of late, others reject me outright and wish I'd disappear, and even when it comes to family members, I'm still juggling a delicate balance with some of my folks who don't even get along with themselves.

The world would be so much simpler if people just dropped their pride and got along.

Or, at least, that's my line of thinking.

Oh, so, you were thinking this would be a more positive letter, Santa?

Sorry about that... I got a lot on my mind.

I've been cleaning my Apartment, and that's a monumental task when you live by yourself.

Even though I'm busy, I'm glad there's a ton of GG fans to keep me busy though with community discussion of Lore and other topics related to Guilty Gear.

I've been keeping this tradition of writing the letters to you Santa, out of respect for the idea of whom you represent: Human Kindness.

I just want you to know I'm glad you've been supporting me all this while. And even if I'm not productive all the time, just the fact I can continue to talk about stuff I like on this blog of mine is a blessing I can never be too thankful for.

In terms of stuff I "want" for Christmas though... it's a bit complicated, since I'm still PLAYING my backlog of games... BUUUT... if I ever get around to it, I'll check out some other stuff when I get the chance.

I know a lot of people think I'm weird for only liking sword-based fighting games (i.e. GBFVSR, Samurai Shodown, Guilty Gear, BlazBlue, etc)... but the only thing I can really say is... that's just how I am: I like swords. I like weapons. I like armor. That's my schtick.

Some people only play SNK games or Capcom games or whatnot... I acknowledge that... but I just have different aesthetics.

Aside gaming though, I have to say Santa... please continue to support Comic Book, Manga, and Manhwa artists... I've been reading Berserk for a long time (even despite losing Miura) and just the fact that series is so loved by both fans and creators alike is amazing. I wish more comics got that level of support!

Though, it'd be great if someone talked to YouTube about their Advertising standards... I'm not interested in Gacha Commercials interrupting videos I watch for extended periods... but well... I'm just being nitpicky I guess. Just would be nice if they set their Ads between videos and not in the middle.

Anyways, Santa... just, for now, keep an eye on me.

I had to deal with the whole "being in a Hospital" thing this year... and that was something I am still mentally recovering over. But at least I'm mostly mended.

Next up: gotta visit a Dentist.... sigh... as if fixing my PC was easy by comparison!

Welp, that's it (I think?) I haven't even sucked up the courage to buy a PlayStation 5 yet... I doubt I will though, since I'm pretty content with my PS4 at the moment.

PC-wise... I dunno, there's a lot going on that needs fixing and I need an expert to advise me (even make a house-call, since I'm not taking this huge desktop on a bus with me to a shop).

I just hope when everyone's settled I can afford it.

But yeah... that's about it, Santa. I hope things are good on your end... gotta keep the Elves happy and all that. I bet feeding Reindeer is expensive too!

Take care... and I hope you have a MERRY CHRISTMAS!

(FYI I say "Christ" in Christmas... because I'm traditional, so deal with it!)

Yours Truly, Gear-Project (dot Tumblr)

P.S.: I'm still playing STRIVE despite the haters, so here's hoping next year is just as exciting for Guilty Gear!

[miloscat]

[Review] Severed (PSVita)

A very modern dungeon crawler for touchscreens!

I'm currently suffering through my first bout of Covid-19. It's been a miserable week so far, and one of the ways I've been getting through the days is playing portable games in bed. The Vita is so underappreciated and ticking this off my backlog helped me appreciate it all over again: the clicky buttons, thin and light form factor, and especially the large and gorgeous OLED screen. Severed is a game made for the Vita. Well, and for smartphones, 3DS, Wii U, etc... but the Vita is definitely one of the best ways to play it, probably.

Severed comes to us from the Canadian dev Drinkbox Studios. I loved both their Guacamelee games, and the art style of this is very similar: lots of bold colours, no outlines, otherworldly creature design. The atmosphere and tone here is darker though, with little humour outside of a slightly quirky NPC or two. This grim tale of a young woman in some kind of oppressive afterlife world, searching for her lost family, is a far cry from Juan and Tostada's bombastic adventures—although they do have some themes in common come to think of it—but told with just as much care and impact.

The gameplay is an interesting take on old first-person dungeon crawlers. You move between nodes or rooms, turning and stepping through them with the D-pad as you solve gate puzzles and navigate the labyrinthine structures. On the way you're frequently stopped by monsters in encounters that are preset so once you've cleared them you're free to explore and find secrets at your leisure. The minimap in the corner of the screen is so useful that I often found myself looking at it alone, and missing out on the lovely art of the main screen! It can also be expanded to plan your route which helps since there's no fast travel, but a small game world and the occasional shortcut can help if you want to backtrack.

Of course the main point of the game is the combat, which plays out via the touchscreen. Each monster type has particular ways to tackle them, and there's clear communication of their weak points, when to parry them, and so on. All this is done by swiping strategically: you can do flurries of short swipes, more damaging long swipes, and you'll gain the ability to charge or use spells to stun them or steal their buffs. Most encounters also feature multiple monsters that you have to constantly rotate between. It can be a bit overwhelming at times!

This whole mechanic is very polished and fun to engage with, although I had to step up my game later on as monster packs became more intimidating. Swiping on the responsive Vita capacitive touchscreen worked very well, although I'm partial to the precision of the Wii U's resistive touch with a stylus, so I'm sure it would be great there too. After defeating a monster is where the title mechanic comes into play (although the player character Sasha also lost her arm in the inciting attack, so it works on multiple levels).

By building up a focus meter you get a brief window to sever the limbs and appendages of monsters after killing them. There's a large variety of these sourced from the bestiary of baddies, and you can then spend your stock on a skill tree. I liked expanding my abilities and trading for parts to get an edge on the next battle, I felt it was well balanced. Exploring also can net you more parts or expansions to your health and mana, and the difficulty was tuned such that these felt rewarding, even necessary, although it's also possible to just... get better at honing your swiping reflexes and responses to particular monster behaviour.

I'm glad I lifted this one out of my backlog and finally gave it a go. It's very well made, the gameplay and presentation are slick and enjoyable, and it's got that unique combination of mechanics that make it stand out. The length also seems just right, the three dungeons plus backtracking taking me about six hours. I recommend this one but only if you take breaks to rest your wrist which has to hold the console while your other hand is swiping away... the Vita might actually be the lightest platform it's available on in fact, although resting your device on a cushion is also a good option.

[nikoadari]

I Think I'm Dating a Fae, Chapter 4

March 17

Dear Diary,

We’re finally on our way to Japan! Gah, I’m so excited!…is what I would be saying if there weren’t three – count ‘em – three separate delays at the airport. For what? Who the hell knows!? They wouldn’t tell us anything! I mean, really?

This is a vacation for us, but what if we were going to Japan for a business trip or to see a dying relative? They can’t just make people late for that kind of thing! Worse, a few of the aides or techs or whatever they’re called said that this was better than it had been for a good while.

This is why we listen to Sol’s dreams about the future. He told me it’s a family trait of his from at least four or five generations back. I believe him, obviously. My grandmama Patricia had that same gift, after all. Sometimes I wish I had that power. The dreams tend to be right like ninety percent of the time. If we had come a bit earlier like I’d suggested, it would have been a disaster!

It tends to go to the firstborns, though, in my family. With two aunties older than Mama, there was no way I’d be born with it. It’s a real shame.

At least we managed to get on the plane at all. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, but we’re flying first class! I don’t even want to know what these tickets must have cost! We’re all in our own separate…pods I guess is a good way to describe them. They’re huge. How is there so much room for them on this plane??

And get this! Sol showed us all how to make the seats flatten into actual beds to sleep on which, just so we’re clear, is insane!

I’m actually really glad Sol was able to show us this. He was the one who had the dream about everything being so backlogged and slow at the airport, but he was still frustrated at the long wait. He doesn’t get angry very often, but each hour we were delayed, it looked like he was getting closer and closer to that edge.

He calmed down quickly enough once we were actually on the plane, though, and showing us everything put him in a good mood again. I’m glad. I don’t know what he would do if he was frustrated and also trapped with other people in a small space like an airplane. He always has to be alone to calm down.

He still seems a little on edge, though. Nervous. He didn’t tell me he dreamt of anything else that could happen. What’s the deal?

He’ll tell me when he wants me to know, I guess.

Anyway, I had to put my phone on airplane mode, and it’s been a while since then, but it said it was 3:39 pm when I last checked. That’s just past nap time for the kids, so it’s good that they’re already sleeping. I figured they would be all over the place. They must be even more exhausted than I am.

Well, I suppose they were all over the place for a good while. Looking out the windows, bouncing up and down in the seats, asking over and over and over again when the plane would be taking off (like I would know).

Ramon got so excited he almost peed himself, poor thing. We were lucky to catch it in time. What a first impression that would have made to the staff (they’re really polite, by the way – far more polite than I remember them ever being before. Maybe we just got better ones this time…or maybe they’re just supposed to be nicer to the rich people).

The kids settled down a few minutes after take-off and I didn’t even have to distract them with toys or a snack first. Instead, they were busy scrambling to look outside. Good Lord, when they pressed their faces against the windows I thought I was going to have a heart attack! I had to pull out some Kleenex wipes and sanitize it – I’m 100% certain no one cleans these things between each and every flight.

It was cute, though, and nice to see them get so excited just by looking outside. We had a special little private space within first class so we were able to talk normally; Sol was telling them the names of the clouds we passed before Ramon got a little too rambunctious – he wanted to actually open the window (Lord have mercy) and was mad that he couldn’t – and we had to put him down for a nap.

It was real cute actually.

Sol put him in his lap and held him, singing this lullaby in another language. He called it Urdu, I think? Or is it Erdu? Erdoo? I’ll have to look it up once we land; no way in hell I’m asking Sol.

I always knew he was well-traveled – he spends most of the year traveling from one place to the next, helping people in need before disappearing into the wilderness alone, but all the “fun facts” he had about other countries at the airport came completely out of left field.

Sol’s been absolutely everywhere, and if he hasn’t actually visited a place he knows someone who has. That’s awesome; I’m more than happy for him to experience and know all that. I’m just not planning on showing that I know literally nothing. He already had to explain the map to me three separate times when planning the trip because my middle school geography classes failed me.

Anyway, Sol said the song was called “Soja Gaan.” Or is it “Soja Jaan?” Or “Souga Gan?” Again, not asking. I’ll look it up later. It sounded absolutely beautiful.

So I was listening and just watching him while he sang to our son and, well, let’s just say that the song wasn’t the only thing beautiful. Sol was looking out the window at one point while he was singing, and the sun’s reflection hit his eyes just right and made them look absolutely golden. How could anyone be so lovely?

And how could someone so lovely be mine?

Oh yeah, and his lullaby put Yasmine to sleep, too, as a happy accident. And it might have made me a bit tired, as well. We have twelve more hours on the flight now so I might as well get some sleep while I can. Time to set out the bed!

Oh, God, this is so cool!! I’m ‘bout to lose my shit!

Four more hours to go. I want to stretch so bad!

Sol’s abandoned me to go to the bathroom and now I have no one to talk to! The kids are watching a movie on these big TV screens in their pods (very fancy) and I’m scared that if they stop looking at the screen, they’ll never look at it again for the entire flight. This is their second movie, but I’ve had to tell Yasmine to be quiet about two thousand times. She keeps bursting into song or talking to the characters on the screen.

And she won’t keep still. Even thought she has all this space to sit in she’s constantly fidgeting and twitching so much it makes me crazy, but usually TV helps. I don’t usually let them watch more than one movie at a time, though. It’s just not cutting it anymore, and I can’t read them a story when most people are trying to sleep now. I wish the kids would go back to sleep.

Yasmine’s tried to get up three different times and Ramon once. They both want to run through the walkway. I only got them to sit down last time threatening a whooping. I don’t like doing that but I can’t just let them run up and down the walkway!

I don’t know why I even agreed to this. Yasmine’s never been good at sitting still, even for a seven year old, and taking these two on such a long trip was a stupid idea. Especially since this is their first one! It’s not like I can take it all back now but we have to get on the plane again once the vacation’s over!

I know I don’t really want to, if I think about it seriously, but this sucks and I feel like I just want to go home.

Sol’s back. He took one look at my face and leaned down to kiss me, right on my forehead. I actually tried to fight it a bit because who wants to be that woman stuck in a silly high school romance novel? But it didn’t work. Lord help me, but I felt all my stress just…melt away. This is so cheesy, nooo!

He had the kids pause their movie for some more Japanese practice (they’ve been practicing every day for the last couple of weeks) and so now they’re all practicing. I’ve been practicing, too, a little. I’ll join later.

Right now I’m going to read some more of those books I brought about fae and fairy lore. I’ve always thought that those little kisses made me feel so nice because, well, I’m in love with this man. But just in case, let’s check!

Ha! I knew it!

“Be wary of any food a good neighbor may give you. Food is a tool often used for spells and magic of all sorts, good and bad. Altering emotions, and even death are just a few.”

So altering emotions is a fae power! Yeah, the book never mentioned anything other than food being the way to cast the spells, but good neighbors are secretive! There could be plenty of other ways to alter emotions that don’t include food!

Besides, he’s done the food thing, too! I don’t know how many times I’ve eaten his cooking and, even though I’m in the absolute worst mood, began feeling so relaxed and happy out of nowhere! And, once or twice, when he was cooking and in a mood, I began to feel depressed. The kids, too.

I never understood why he looked so guilty after that, but now…maybe his emotions affected the food he made by accident? I’m so on to you, Sol!

Reading books on this was actually more informative than my haphazard Google searches. Who knew? I feel like this almost proves he’s at least not a human. I also learned that I’ve apparently been pretty rude in how I refer to Sol’s kind.

Fae don’t actually like to be called fae. They prefer other terms like “forest folk,” “people of the hills,” “good neighbors,” “the others,” or simply “them,” which isn’t ominous at all, no ma’am. Also, I feel like Sol fit this one perfectly: “twilight beings.” I almost feel bad for laughing but it’s just so dramatic and so him.

Apparently the term comes from the belief that it’s easiest to see them when it’s twilight. Sol told me once that that’s his favorite time, but he looks the same as anyone else during those hours. This legend doesn’t ring true for him but still. That’s his new nickname now.

It made me think, though. I’ve never doubted that my man’s name is Sol. When he bought me that new car, he signed it over to me with that name, and he always introduces himself like that.

But what if it was all a lie?

The gentry (God, these names are so dramatic) in the stories never introduce themselves with their own names because then you’ll have power over them. Sol uses a lot of different names for different countries. His Brazilian name is Bento, his Mali name is Adama, his Japanese name is Kazuki, etc. I have no idea how he keeps track of them all. He says it’s so the locals will have an easier time saying it, and also, in my opinion, because he likes different names and wants an excuse to use them all.

He’s never stumbled over the name “Sol,” though, and his family never has either, but that could be something of a pet name everyone calls him, right? Especially if his family knows. They would never call Sol by his given name around a human like me.

No, no. I’m being silly. He hasn’t stolen my name or anything…probably. What does that even mean? It doesn’t matter. He’s never lied to me about anything else, not even silly things. And a name is pretty important, and I know he believes that, too. He wouldn’t lie about it.

Sol believes that names hold a type of power, just like all words, and so what you call a person over and over again throughout their life is almost sacred. He would have told me if “Sol” wasn’t his real name.

Hahahahaha! Just said, “Twilight Being who is the love of my life?” to get his attention and he immediately looked at me with the most unimpressed, borderline disgusted expression I have ever seen in my life. It’s a keeper!

[scriveyner]

chase forever down 11/31

chase forever down | 11/31 | bungou stray dogs | 👿🐯 / sskk | #smarch 🔞| ~1800 words

It was really weird, not seeing or hearing from Akutagawa for so long. They would go months at a time before, only seeing each other during a calamity, but now he’d so quickly become a fixture in Atsushi’s life this absence felt glaring.

Continue on AO3, or:

Atsushi pushed the strange, empty feeling in his chest aside and threw himself into the backlog of work that had built up instead, ever since Dazai had nudged his entire casefile onto Atsushi’s desk when he wasn’t paying attention. It was easy enough to keep busy at least; handling some small, simple jobs with Kyouka-chan, hanging out in the café with Tanizaki and Kenji, and chasing after Dazai whenever he ditched work at Kunikida’s behest.

He almost didn’t notice how suffocating the emptiness had become.

Kyouka sat at the low table in their dormitory apartment, drinking tea and watching Atsushi attempt and mostly succeed at making dinner. “You’d make a terrible wife,” Kyouka observed, and Atsushi wrinkled his nose at some unsalvageable meat.

“That’s fine. I don’t intend to be anyone’s wife,” he responded absently, scraping the charred, inedible mess into the bin. There was blackened, and then there was charcoal; and he really didn’t want to hear about the wasted food. “So, you get to stay the whole weekend at the ryokan? I’m jealous.”

Naomi had won a grand prize at a raffle drawing while picking up groceries, which ended up being a weekend for four at a popular ryokan. “I asked Naomi-san if you could come along too, but Tanizaki had already offered Kenji the ticket.” Kyouka frowned, like she was still working out a way to include Atsushi on the trip.

“That sounds like an interesting experience,” Atsushi said, amused, as he sat opposite her at the table. “I’m glad you get to go, though. Sounds nice.”

Kyouka nodded her head, picking up her bowl of rice. “Do not bring your boyfriend over for sex while I’m gone.”

Atsushi choked on his tea and laughed nervously. “I don’t know when Akutagawa is even getting back. I might not see him again until next month, you have nothing to worry about.” For some reason, saying that he could be gone a month caused a lump to form in his throat, and Atsushi didn’t like that at all. He swallowed hard a few times, hoped it wasn’t too noticeable, and started in on his own rice as well as a distraction.

At least he couldn’t screw up rice.

“Hm,” Kyouka said thoughtfully, studying him.

Atsushi raised an eyebrow.

“You miss him.”

“Of course, I do, we’re going out.” Atsushi shoveled rice into his mouth and tried again to Not Think About Things Too Much, because it was still too weird a concept for him. “He is my boyfriend.”

Kyouka kept looking at him, but then she smiled and resumed eating as well. “I’m happy for you. I don’t understand why you chose Akutagawa of all people, but he’s important to you and I respect that. I shall do my best not to kill him if he ever gets in our way.”

“Thanks,” Atsushi said dryly. “You do remember that we don’t normally kill people here though, right?”

She nodded, chewing her mouthful, and spoke once she swallowed. “I will only have Yasha Shirayuki split him open if he harms you in any manner.”

He thought, for a moment, about how many times those lethal-sharp fangs had been in his neck already, huffed out an amused sigh, and continued to eat his dinner.

=====

It was quiet, with Kyouka-chan gone. Atsushi sat at the low table, elbow propped on the surface and chin in his hand as he flipped through a binder of work that he didn’t need to bring home but did anyway. Kyouka had made him swear up and down about not having Akutagawa over, and he didn’t know why she was so worried about it. Even if it were an option right now, he wouldn’t do it.

He’d just think about it a lot, though.

Atsushi sighed, chin still in hand. It was an aching, clawing loneliness that nestled against the back of his throat, and truly it was starting to baffle him. He’d never felt this way about Akutagawa before, and now all it took was a couple of weeks of radio silence before he started climbing the walls? Maybe he needed some fresh air.

He stood, stretched; and then slid aside the window, putting his palms inside the frame and leaning out. It was past dusk now, the air warm but not stifling, and a breeze caught in his hair.

Maybe tomorrow he could go to work early to feed the strays that congregated around the office and bask in their unconditional love for a bit; that might make him feel better.

Plan decided, he cleaned up the table and went to pull his futon out.

With Kyouka gone, he got to sleep outside of the confines of the futon closet. He usually appreciated the close, closed-in space, but this time of the year it got stuffy and uncomfortable sometimes, so he might as well take advantage of the airflow. When he unfolded his futon, his small bundle of useful items dropped to the tatami by his knee, and Atsushi picked it up and held it for a second before discarding it. It had things like his earbuds, phone charger, a few odds and ends…

…and that damned vibrator, cleaned and charged with the remote.

Atsushi didn’t even remember Akutagawa sneaking it into his things, but he’d found it a few days later and promptly hid it as quickly as possible. Atsushi flushed red at the memory and went to toss the sack away, he’d deal with the phone charger later—but then he stopped.

He opened the bag again and looked at it.

The last time he’d used this was the last time Akutagawa touched him…far too many days ago already. Atsushi closed his eyes, thought about Akutagawa’s hands on his shoulders, fangs buried in his neck, and his mouth opened slightly. He cock gave a decidedly interested twinge, and Atsushi shifted how he was kneeling and palmed his hand over his lap, already getting stiff.

Okay. He was alone in the apartment and wouldn’t be disturbed. And he’d masturbated in here plenty of times before, admittedly usually in the bathroom with the faucet running just in case, but still.

He could do this, at least.

Atsushi wriggled out of his pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor, underwear soon following. He remembered, after a few seconds, turning it over in his hands, how this thing worked—pressed and held the button on the base and it buzzed once and lay still in his palm.

Out of curiosity, he took the remote and pressed the button, and then jumped when it started buzzing violently in his hand. Atsushi dropped the vibrator and it fell atop the futon, buzzing away merrily, until Atsushi cycled through all the stages with the remote and it lay still. Breathing a little hard, he picked it up again, and wet his lips.

He had lube somewhere…right?

=====

Atsushi groaned into his arm, shuddering as he pulled his fingers free again. He’d managed to get himself up to three, but he couldn’t quite get the angle right for what he really needed, and it was so frustrating. He panted into his arm for a moment before pushing back up onto his knees, groping blindly for the vibrator.

It wasn’t nearly that big, but he wanted something more than that, anyway—Akutagawa spreading his thighs with his hips, the warmth of his body crushed to Atsushi’s, his mouth, hot and familiar—and Atsushi groaned again, but this time he settled back onto the vibrator, sinking onto it until the flared base sat snug against his ass.

It wasn’t enough.

Atsushi rocked on it for a moment, but it didn’t fill him up the way he needed. He shifted around, found the remote in the blanket, and pressed the button—the vibrator pulsed and started; a jolt of electricity racing through his nerves. Atsushi tilted perilously forward, one hand out to keep himself propped up, the other wrapping around the base of his straining cock, stroking slowly.

Okay this, this wasn’t so bad. He ended up on his side, panting hard and stroking quickly, rubbing his thumb over the slit before slipping back down. If he closed his eyes he could easily pretend that Akutagawa was sitting there, just out of sight. He was watching Atsushi, observing the way he touched himself—and that made Atsushi want to put on a show for him, rolling onto his back and bracing his feet flat on the floor, keeping his hips off the futon.

Akutagawa watching him stroke, pressing his cock back against him, the very tip leaving sticky fluid if it touched skin. His dark eyes would glimmer, and he’d press his lips flat, trying to look neutral as Atsushi’s hips jerked without input from him, the vibrator shifting and trying to work its way free.

Atsushi dropped his hips just right, forcing the toy back into him without touching it, gasping as his cock sputtered. He hadn’t quite come yet, but thick fluid rolled out of the tip. Atsushi arched his back but kept his hips down, he could see Akutagawa had tilted his head, resting his cheek against his fist, but there was a small upturn to his expression as he watched Atsushi struggle to not come right away, to continue putting on a show just for him.

He was getting better at holding himself off, but Atsushi rolled slightly and the remote got under his elbow. The long press of the button made the vibrator increase rapidly in intensity, so much so that Atsushi wasn’t able to contain the howl, his hips bouncing up and back down. He squeezed his knees together and came, several long stripes across his belly and chest, and he couldn’t even enjoy the fade out post-climax, slapping around for the remote until he found it and was able to cycle the vibrator to silence.

Limbs shaking, Atsushi yanked the device free and collapsed on his side, breathing hard. He could almost still imagine Akutagawa there, just out of reach; resting his hand in Atsushi’s hair and softly urging him to sleep.

Too hot, sticky and sweaty and worn to the brink, Atsushi drifted off into darkness.

=====

Atsushi slept poorly.

He drifted in and out, through incomprehensible, hazy dreams. The moon behind his eyes shimmered sickly yellow-orange, hot like the sun. At one point he woke enough to stagger to the sink and drink water straight from the tap, guzzling greedily; he kicked the futon to mess and struggled before passing out again on his face.

At one point, he thought he heard Kyouka-chan’s voice, worried and insistent. That couldn’t be right, she wouldn’t be back for another day at least, but he couldn’t focus enough to tell if he was truly awake or if it was another dream. Dazai’s voice was there as well, rich and warm in a way he’d never heard before: it vibrated in his skull and through his bones and soothed, before he fell, finally into a deep and dreamless sleep.

<< Chapter 10 || Start || Chapter 12 >>

[jaxyacksprojects]

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Live Laugh Stuck

Latest Episodes

Missed a couple updates, so here’s what’s been going on!

We have our penultimate Rating Ship Names episode! I keep joking that by the end of the final one, I’ll have this whole audio/video editing thing down pat. And though I’m far from eager to make more visual heavy episodes (as I am not the hugest fan when podcasts I listen to switch to that), it’s a nice card up my sleeve for future projects.

Next we had our Live Q&A! Which ended up mostly being us chatting. It was fun for everyone to meet up in person! Definitely something I’d like to do again. Eventually I’m going to edit this for the podcast feed, but for now you can watch it on youtube! Nothing visual heavy, but Moosie did make us these cute little gifs!

After that, I accidentally skipped a week! We’ll just say that the live show (combined with the trailer I’ll get to in a second) was the content for that fortnight. Even if I haven’t gotten the live show up on the podcast feed yet. Whoops! But we course corrected and released at our normal time this week, more of our blind readthrough: Moosestuck!

Last but not least, the podcast finally has a new trailer! This ended up being a hit on tiktok, so hopefully y’all enjoy it as well!

Next Up

Two weeks from now we’ll have the final Rating Ship Names episode! I really enjoyed doing the series, and didn’t mind the editing as much as I made it seem (complaining is fun!), but I’m still glad to close the chapter on this project. I have other things I want to be doing that I’ve only barely been able to start before finishing this up! Which should have encouraged me to get it done more quickly, but, well, that’s ADHD for you lol

After that, we might focus on getting through more of Moosestuck while I work on other things, both LLS and not, but I don’t want to say anything for sure as of now.

Jax Elsewhere

I’ve started streaming every Saturday at 11 am cst on Twitch! Currently playing through Dragon Age Inquisition in preparation for The Veilguard coming out this fall! Doing a Solas romance for Extra Feels. I haven’t decided if I’ll stream TV and just up the schedule or do a personal playthrough, but my aim is to keep streaming every Saturday morning, even when I’m done with Dragon Age. It’s something that I’ve been meaning to do for a while, partially as encouragement to get through my vast Steam backlog, so keep an eye on it! And let me know if there’s anything I can do to improve the stream!

Other Upkeep and News

My first Tumblr blog has remained terminated with no communication from Tumblr despite my many attempts to reach out, and in the meantime, my second blog got terminated as well. I had one that I made as a back up and hadn’t used yet, so go check out Jax Yacks Projects if you prefer to keep up to date on Tumblr! My hope is since I’m only using it for projects and other non-personal side blogs, I won’t get nuked again, but we’ll see! I haven’t updated all the links in the show notes, though — it’s on my list of projects.

Links! Click them!

This is where else you can find me on the web! At least some of the places lol If you check out nothing else, come join the Discord! It’s still small, but there’s been a bit more regular activity, and Domi, Justin, and Moosie are all in it as well! It’s also more consistently updated than these newsletters, though I have plans in motion to try to keep this more regular.

Projects Discord Main Website with all project links Live Laugh Stuck Website Ko-fi Live Laugh Stuck Twitter Live Laugh Stuck Tiktok

Poetry Corner

Prompt: “Perhaps it is genetic.” Generated here.

It's cliche The promise to never be like them Which parts we reject Which we ignore

It's ingrained We can never know their whole The parts we never saw The parts just like ours

It decays Does the promise remain unbroken? Can we stop the repetition? Is this a cycle or self-fulfillment?

[c-40]

A-T-4 114 Kitty Grant - Glad To Know You

Ducktales Pt.1

Writing about Americans taking an interest in Japanese music and how it has been storified in articles got me thinking about narrative. That's not entirely true I think about narrative all the time, what is a text or image saying and how might that be received and passed on. Usage of 'narrative' to mean "a particular way of explaining or understanding events" has been on the up and up over the last 40-years. "Controlling the narrative" or "who controls the narrative?" is discussed by the chattering classes. I use narrative in my day job, I've studied it since I was in my late teens, and I find it endlessly fascinating

I thought I’d start with an example of a narrative, unfortunately I picked the “small boats” story which, in the UK, the politico-media circus (PMC) are putting all their resources into at the moment. Public concern over immigration and asylum virtually disappeared when Boris Johnson became PM in 2019, this coincided with stories regarding immigrants, asylum seekers, and refugees being reported less across news media. When Johnson's support from his own party began to fall apart the PM and the then Home Secretary Priti Patel announced their plan to send asylum seekers to Rwanda. This kind of thing is popular with the tory party's backbench headbangers but polling at the time showed only 10% of the public (tory and Labour supporters) thought this was a good idea

Tough on immigration and asylum seekers virtue signally is beginning to pay off now though, the relentless coverage of immigration and asylum has made it an issue and they're doing something about it (although they're not because it'll continue to be tied up in the courts and the tories are out at next years election). Politico reports that for tory voters 'stopping the boats' as an issue "ranks above cutting NHS surgery waiting lists and accident and emergency response times" - that's insane! Tory voters will put the health of everyone in the the country at risk as long as they see less asylum seekers. Being dead is one way to see less asylum seekers! Asylum isn't a particularly concerning issue in the UK either, we have the 18th largest intake of asylum seekers in the EU, and we're a wealthy country with a declining birthrate and room. Just look at taking refugees from Ukraine, that's not a problem (it's not perfect, nor would anyone expect it to be), in the news taking Ukrainian refugees continues to be cause for patriotic pride, supported by celebrations of Ukrainian culture (Eurovision is being held here in Liverpool as a proxy for Ukraine)

When polled the public imagine immigration and asylum seekers numbers are a lot higher than they actually are (see Bobby Duffy's book The Perils Of Perception and the current stats from the refugee council). Why do we think asylum is worse than it is? One word MISINFORMATION. The tories are exploiting their own failings, they've been in power for 13-years over which time the backlog of asylum applications waiting to be processed has gone from 19,000 when labour departed government in 2010 to 161,000 in 2023, rising almost ninefold. Rishi Sunak was caught lying about these figures the House of Commons the other day https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2023/apr/05/statistics-watchdog-rebukes-rishi-sunak-inaccurate-asylum-backlog-figures - because of covid restrictions being removed asylum applications doubled last year, and there's been a rise in channel crossings by small boats, but the long trend is they have remained consistent, certainly not going up ninefold. The tory party also exploit barriers to apply for asylum in the UK forcing more people to risk crossing in 'small boats' and into the hands of criminals. 'Offshore Processing' aka the Rwanda flights effectively puts a ban on asylum in the UK, the UK has a legal obligation to accept asylum seekers but the tories are saying, If you come here we won't take you. If you've been flown to Rwanda and your asylum claim is successful you remain in Rwanda, not the UK, as a refugee

All this just so the tories have a less humiliating defeat in the next general election

I'm with Kitty Grant, Glad To Know You

The Kitty Grant version of this song came out two years after Chas Jankel's original. Jankel wrote Glad To Know You with Ian Dury, and he produced both versions. I first heard the Kitty Grant version as an edit on the Idjut Boys 2005 Press Play mix

[applesontheground]

don’t be a pill 💉

getting my ass handed to me by a summer cold right now, so i decided to go through the ol’ backlog and clean up a poly!danbert shortie that i never finished.

this isn’t connected to/a new installment of your own prometheus, just something for the ship that’s unrelated! because i never stop writing them you thought that morgue post was a joke?

SFW | Word Count: 971 | Herbert West x GN Reader x Daniel Cain

“Take it.”

Your gaze shot up from scratching a stain off your sleeve to see the expectant glare from Herbert. “Pardon?”

He looked at the counter, and the stare followed to see the small cup of cough syrup. Immediately, your chest tightened to laugh, but you only managed a smile before feeling your body betray you. An arm came up to cover your mouth, and you coughed raggedly instead of snickering.

“Are you-“ You choked back another wave, tears in your eyes as you tried to see him, “Are you telling another adult to take their medicine?”

“Considering that I do it for a day job,” He grimaced, “Yes.”

Dan’s voice suddenly came from the other side, “We are, [Y/N]. You’ve been putting it off since this morning. You think we didn’t notice?” You gave him a wide-eyed stare, and retorted as you lowered your arm, “I think I can manage myself just fine, but thanks. Glad to see you guys pulled away from your busy schedules to make sure I took cough syrup.” It had come off meaner than you intended, but you then made the mistake of giving the cup another daunting look that made both of them share an expression with each other.

You hadn’t necessarily meant to let yourself be intimidated by the awful taste, disgusted from the way it hung in your mouth with that saturated stickiness, but you couldn’t help to try and dodge it all the same. You’d weathered dozens of colds without it, after all; and unlike a younger version of yourself, you could give more excuses, more believable reasons to wiggle out of it.

This was not an effective strategy when you lived with two doctors, though. They wouldn’t say it, but they had been picking up on your cold since this morning, hearing you hacking in the shower, catching how bleary your eyes had been the day before and knowing you were coming down with something before you picked it up yourself. It was more of just quiet observation from the both of them, but now that you were practically coughing up a lung today and trying to function as normal, they couldn’t ignore it.

The next time you looked at him, Dan was mirroring your posture, leaning his back on the counter and carefully crossing his arms. He looked ready to spend all afternoon with you in that kitchen, but then you caught Herbert trying to hide an impatient glance at his watch. Two different methods coming at you made the realization that you weren��t getting out of this set in.

Your eyes fell down to the cup again, and you asked, “Is that going to make me drowsy?”

“Take it.” Herbert repeated, somehow even more cross in his tone this time. You shook your head, but finally sucked in a breath and rolled your back off the counter. “I don’t have time to be drowsy, you know. What if you two need my help?”

“I think we can manage.” Dan retorted. You gave him a sarcastic nod and took the plastic cup with your middle finger and thumb. In rigid movements, it came closer to your mouth. The menthol hit your nose, and you froze in place again, staring in an attempt to psyche yourself up.

A sharp huff and both men moving in the peripherals made you turn your head again.  “Let it- Herbert!" Dan gasped, and before you knew it there was a hand on the back of your neck and Herbert’s hand encircling your wrist, speeding up the pace it went to your mouth in a quick motion.

You jolted out of his hold, bracing the counter in front of you and managing to keep yourself from choking with a deep inhale through your nose. This was an ordeal that had already been made three steps more complicated, and now the burn of embarrassment was spreading over your face along with the awful taste. “Come on, that wasn’t necessary. [He/she/they] would’ve taken it eventually.” Dan muttered, practically hovering over as you gave Herbert a shocked look, your face cringing as the flavor sat on your tongue. Still, you croaked out, “Maybe it was necessary. I mean, there. I took it.”

“Don’t excuse him, [Y/N], that wasn’t the right way to do it.” Dan replied, hand on your back. Still, you even laughed and asked him, “Is that how you make your patients do it?”

Herbert tried not to laugh, that tight smirk on his face as his hand wandered to the medicine bottle on the counter. “It’d be nice if I could do that without drawing the unnecessary attention.” He answered, turning the label to face you. You heard a near silent huff from Dan, knowing that he still found ways to draw attention but choosing to keep that assumption to yourself.

“This…” He read the back, tilting his head a little, “is the drowsy kind, by the way.” He then gave you a bright look and added, “Just in case you think about leaving the house while under the weather.” Your resting expression dropped, and his chuckle merely trailed out of the room as you stared at the counter. Dan’s hand curled into your shoulder, and he murmured, “Jokes on him, like I’m not about to crash on the couch with you.”

You shot an accusatory look at him, and he couldn’t help but smile and pinch your cheek a little. “Hey, don’t look at me like that, [sport/baby]. We do it because we love you.”

An attempt to roll your eyes at him only got him to lean in for a kiss instead, ignoring the awful taste on your tongue. It was like he didn’t even care he might get sick from it.

Such a Daniel Cain move it almost hurt to think about.

[makeste]

I’m very glad that I was MIA for fandom’s “Mineta loves Deku this is the worst thing ever” stage, and didn’t get back until things had apparently entered the “Mineta loves Deku this is the funniest thing ever” stage lol. now this is a phase I can get behind.

anyway so I have no idea when I’ll be able to finish up my 321 reaction post because I have to catch up on a small backlog of other things, but maybe this weekend I’ll do a 321-322 double feature extravaganza or something lol. very happy Horikoshi waited until I was out of town to make 10,000 different and exciting things happen in the manga all at once. first world problems though lol, ah well.

[ackerfics]

slow dance with you — mikasa ackerman

— goth!mikasa ackerman x soft!female reader (modern au)

— warnings: slight mention of alcohol, pure rotten fluff

— summary:  after gaining some courage from the drinks she had in the party and from the advice she got from her friends, mikasa is ready to become your girlfriend.

— word count: 3.9k

— author’s notes: i would like to thank the anon who gave me some ideas for goth!mikasa, you are so amazing !! thank you for the small headcanons. and since we’re on the topic of writing abt goth!mikasa, i couldn’t help but pair her up with a classic soft girl who likes to wear pink at every time of the day. this dynamic is based on marceline and princess bubblegum so i hope you enjoy !!

p.s. the reader will have dyed hair here, if this is not your cup of tea, just let this fly by your dash.

listen to this while reading.

“She dyed her hair pink,” came a dazed yet mesmerized tone.

“You’re staring at her again.”

Mikasa jumped on her seat at Eren’s nonchalant observation. She whipped her head to her best friend, his attention directed on his laptop, hands flying across the keyboard as he typed out the next few words in his essay. Noticing the incredulous look the black-haired girl was shooting him, Eren rose an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. Mikasa huffed, crossing her eyes with a subtle hue of red on her cheeks, complimenting her dark lipstick. “I am not staring,” she mumbled. “Shut up, Eren.” She looked away from her subject of interest but continued shooting small glances.

Eren sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was always one of the witnesses of his best friend slash sister being meek around her crush. At first, he was teasing her because not going to lie, Mikasa’s crush is a pretty person but as their years in college made them juniors, Eren will be the reckless idiot that he is (courtesy of Armin) and set Mikasa up. But he liked to live his life out first — Mikasa will probably curse him with that spellbook she bought from the antique bookshop they encountered in their little exploration back when they were first-years. “Mikasa, why don’t you take the chance and confess to her? It’s not going to be the end of the world.”

“If she rejects me? What then?”

“Then that’s the next problem that you will have to face.” The brown-haired boy turned back to his essay. He stared at his laptop screen blankly before spewing out curses. “Now, I forgot what to write next! Damn it.” He picked up his iced coffee and drank from the metal straw as his life depended on it.

Mikasa rolled her eyes at her best friend’s first statement. “Gee, thanks for the advice. It was very much appreciated.”

“Glad to be of help.”

There was a thud on their table that made the two look up from their respective activities. Eren had a scowl on his face because for the nth time this day, he was interrupted from finishing his essay (for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t want to fail Ackerman’s class). Mikasa blinked from scrolling through her crush’s Twitter account (the last post she wrote was about how Levi Ackerman, Mikasa’s relative and everyone’s Anthropology professor) and fixed her attention on their blonde friend, Armin. He looked too bright after a round of morning classes, something that Eren doesn’t comprehend. The blue-eyed young man has always been the rational and genius third of their little group. There wasn’t a time where Armin’s advice got a situation to erupt in flames. It was either the situation became an inferno instead (Eren) or nobody had the guts to do it (Mikasa).

“Hey, guys!” Armin greeted, arranging his side of the table, meticulously placing each component of his lunch in front of him. “How were your morning classes?”

“Shit,” Eren spat out.

“Of course, it is.”

“They were alright,” Mikasa shrugged.

“Figured.” Armin glanced at his friend’s sides of the table, nodding at Mikasa’s balanced lunch while blankly staring at Eren’s laptop. The device should’ve been a good tray of lunch. “I thought you were eating lunch, Eren? That’s what you said in your text.”

“Can’t,” the brown-haired boy huffed. He gestured at his iced coffee without taking his eyes off the laptop. “I guess, this counts as my lunch.”

“When’s that essay due?”

“In about,” Eren looked at the time on his laptop, “three hours. Ackerman is my first period later. That fucking terror professor has no mercy when it comes to this. Can he just piss off for once? Mikasa, do you even tell him to get laid? Because I think that would solve his attitude. I swear to God, he’s getting more pissed every damn day.”

“Wow, I guess getting my short, grumpy, middle-aged uncle to start his sex life will be a nice conversation starter,” Mikasa drawled, half-lidded, bored eyes reading every tweet her crush has posted for the entire week. Mikasa couldn’t help but smile at one post about a new movie her crush just watched, saying that it was now a new favorite. She was tempted to give a heart on every single post but that would it weird because they never followed each other despite the small interactions they shared in between classes. With a sigh, she looked up, only to be met with Eren’s unamused stare. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “What? Do you think that would work, Eren? Levi is probably a virgin his whole life and will continue his record until he’s all shriveled up.” Eren blanched at the image. “Just finish your homework and stop complaining.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough, that’s for sure. If you just started that essay the day he assigned it to your class, you would have finished it way before the deadline.”

Eren pointed at Mikasa with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even go there, Mikasa. I have a life aside from being a sleep-deprived college student.”

“I mean, she’s got a point, Eren.” Armin immediately rose his hands in defense when Eren shifted his glare from the black-haired young woman to him. “You always tend to procrastinate in the most impeccable timing that we sometimes have to remind you of your backlogs. And now, here you are, doing things last minute when you could’ve prevented the rush by doing it immediately.”

“Thanks for slapping the reality to my face, you two,” Eren dryly replied, going back to his essay for the final time. “And by the way, Armin, give Mikasa some solid advice that she will finally follow because she’s making googly eyes at Miss Pretty two tables from us a couple of minutes before you arrived. You know, the love of her life?”

Armin roamed his eyes in the lunch hall and sure enough, there was Mikasa’s goddess sitting with her group of friends. There was that brown-haired girl that was dubbed as the Potato Girl for eating mashed potatoes during Ackerman’s class (the professor told the class his rules of no eating or going out of the room while he’s discussing the moment the girl took a spoonful of her snack). A young man with a buzz cut snorting at what the brown-haired girl said. Armin remembered sharing a class with him. He never got the chance to introduce himself because the young man was sleeping throughout the lecture. There was usually a fourth person in the little group but it seems like he was running late or already in his class. That person was Eren’s sworn frenemy, the reason for that relationship was unknown to this day.

The three people at the table all stood up, the brown-haired girl and the taller young man leading the way. Armin instantly had an idea.

“Hey, [Name]!”

Mikasa nearly had whiplash from turning her head to Armin. “Armin?!” she hissed under her breath, face becoming hotter when you looked at their table, a bright smile lighting up your face. You called your friends, telling them to go on ahead without you, to which they nodded before walking towards the trio’s table. Her brain wasn’t processing the moment you lifted a hand to wave at whoever you were smiling at. Mikasa wished it was her. “Fuck,” she whispered, registering how cute you look. You donned a salmon pink plaid sundress and a white cardigan, matching with the bubblegum pink locks you let down. Her heart was hammering a thousand miles per second and there was no hope of stopping it.

“Hi, Armin,” you replied, stopping a few feet from Mikasa, who looked away from you to fix her wide-eyed stare on her empty plate.

“I was just going to ask if you already have a partner in our Molecular Biology lab?” The blue-eyed young man then turned to Mikasa and Eren. “I’m in the same class as her this year.”

“As if calling her here wasn’t that obvious,” Eren murmured, still typing out his essay.

“I don’t need your dry remarks right now, Eren, don’t want to ruin the atmosphere. So, [Name], you have a partner?”

You shook your head. “I think not. It would be great if we could be partners though. I need a break from the people I’ve been partnered with throughout college.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. It was true, though. Most of the grouping during your first years of college were all set up by the teachers so the students really had no say on the matter at hand. Even Armin was exposed to a variety of students, most of them being too slacking to participate or too overbearing with their suggestions that they have no plans of doing. He nodded with a smile, “I’ll be sending an email to Professor Zoe about this and we’re done.” He glanced behind you, noticing that your two friends weren’t there anymore. “I’m sorry for holding you up. I’m pretty sure you have a class after lunch. See you around?”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, I told them to go ahead since Sasha has a class scheduled right after lunch and Connie had to nap in his dorm. And I don’t have any class the whole afternoon, except for an online session so yeah, see you around, Armin.” You acknowledge Eren with a nod, to which he responded with a cool expression (as if his mind wasn’t a mess from the cramming), and gave a soft smile to Mikasa, “Bye, Mikasa.” And you were off to your dorm, leaving behind two amused men and an awestruck Mikasa.

The black-haired young woman was hyperventilating the moment you disappeared from the lunch hall, hands clenched on top of her black shorts. She regretted wearing a thin, long-sleeved striped sweater under her black shirt because it was so fucking hot after that encounter. Her entire body was vibrating with too many emotions all at once, short-circuiting until she became a heap of flustered mess in front of her best friends. “Oh, my God,” she muttered like a prayer. She definitely needed one after seeing you all pretty in pink. It was too much for her soul because you two are a perfect match this time. Her grommet belt and choker were not helping because she couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Mikasa, breathe,” Armin reminded beside her. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Once she regained her composure, Mikasa realized she probably looked like a gaping fish. “Oh, my God! I’m so sure that this time, she thinks I’m weird. My name is the only one she mentioned aside from Armin which is saying something because she’s classmates with him. But why did she say goodbye to me? Oh, my God, she’s giving me so many butterflies right now.”

“Your gay is showing,” Eren pointed out calmly.

“Eren, not the time,” Armin murmured, hovering his hands over Mikasa’s back.

“Just wanted to alleviate the tense atmosphere. No need to get so worked up.”

“But, Mikasa, your feelings for her are showing.”

Eren clapped his hands, pointing a finger at Armin. “That, my friend, is a genius observation.”

Ignoring the green-eyed man, Armin continued, “I think it’s time you confess to her. Three years is a pretty long time pining for a person. In the end, her knowing your feelings will be inevitable. That is if you have no plans in letting her know.”

“Of course, I want her to know,” Mikasa murmured, fiddling with the sleeves of her striped long-sleeves.

“I heard that there’s a party this Saturday in Reiner’s frat,” Eren told them, meeting both of his friends’ eyes over the top of his laptop screen. “We’re in the same football team with Jean. The horseface is a friend of your girl,” he nodded at Mikasa, who erupted in a sputter of her crush not being her girl, “okay, not your girl — yet. As I was saying, [Name] is good friends with Jean and if Jean is there, Miss Pretty in Pink will be, too. That’s your chance to ask her out, Mikasa.” He met the blinking gray eyes of his best friend. “The question is, are you up for that?”

-

“You were staring at her so hard at lunch again.”

You looked up from your book to acknowledge Sasha entering your dorm room after a whole afternoon of packed lectures. The brown-haired young woman was so tired that she immediately plopped on top of her bed on the other side of the room. At first, you didn’t register what she said because you were preoccupied with your book. You chose to indulge the night in a good book because it has been a long time since you’ve done that. With furrowed eyebrows, you asked, “Can you repeat what you said, Sasha?”

Sasha tilted her head to look at you with one eye uncovered by her duvet. Her hair fluttered after puffing out a breath of disbelief. “Oh, don’t pretend that you have no idea, Miss Pretty in Pink.”

“That’s because I didn’t catch what you said,” you replied, gesturing at your novel. “And what’s with that Miss Pretty in Pink nickname? Did some of the students around campus started that?”

“Sort of,” Sasha hummed. She sat up from her bed and took out her phone from her backpack lying on the floor. You watched the whole time she stretched her arm without changing her position on her bed. With her phone in hand, she opened her Twitter account. “Actually, a friend of mine tweeted it, wait, I’m just going to scroll through my Likes tab to find her tweet. Oh, here it is.” Sasha showed you her screen, patiently waiting for you to take the device from her hand to get a closer look. Her hopeful smile turned into a small pout when you made no moves in doing so. “Take my phone and see for yourself.”

You sighed, following her pleas. “It’s probably just someone from the volleyball team. You know how some of them never stopped following me around campus. Can’t they take the hint that they’re not my type?”

“This person is much better than those himbo simps following you around. She’s an amazing person behind that shy exterior of hers.”

You only hummed, blankly staring at your roommate’s phone before your eyes widened in realization. Your eyes skimmed over and over again at the handle, mkackerman, beside the display picture of a short-haired girl in pigtails. It was the girl that managed to capture your attention during your first year at Eldia University. The girl with an air of mystique that the stars are jealous of. You always admired her from afar, appreciating her style each day. But your admiration was getting replaced with something more at the five words she tweeted. 

You’re so pretty in pink.

Roses bloomed in your cheeks, complimenting your pink hair the longer you gawked at her short post. 

“What?” you breathed out after a full minute of silence.

“Mm-hmm,” Sasha hummed with a smug smile. “And who dyed her hair pink impulsively last weekend?” She intentionally looked at you with sharp eyes, her smile turning into a smirk full of mischief. In actuality, Sasha knew of Mikasa’s crush on you since they were acquainted with each other. It was an embarrassing first meeting between the two, with Sasha latching on a random person’s arm in the station and it turned out to be Mikasa. The two became great friends after that, well, after Mikasa lowered her guard down, leaving her pocket knife safely tucked underneath her checkered skirt. It was Sasha who managed to make Mikasa confess of her undying love for you, the former squealing her heart out in the library. (They were kicked out after that.) 

“I don’t know,” you denied. “There could be a couple of people in the campus who thought that spontaneously dyeing their hair pink is an awesome idea.” You threw your hands in the air, giving back Sasha her phone right after.

“Trust me. Mikasa doesn’t have any interest in any other girl other than a special someone I know.”

You chose to ignore her, turning back on the discarded book on top of your covers. The words flew around your mind, aggravating you until you placed the novel on your lap. A defeated sigh came out of your lips. “Okay, let’s go out for some dinner.” You stretched, switching your pajama bottoms for a pair of loose jeans, and leaving your button-down pajama top on. The people in public will never know your top is a part of a pajama set. As you ducked down to roll the bottom of your jeans, you hear Sasha’s bed shuffling. Sitting up, you regarded her with an inquisitive raise of an eyebrow. “Spill it.”

“Oh, alright. Jean told me to bring you to a party.”

You stood up, patting your lap of imaginary dust, placing your things and book inside your tote bag. “Tell him no. I have a written exam coming up and I don’t want to fail one of my majors. He can manage without one person in our friendship group.”

Sasha huffed, mimicking your actions. “This will be the last time!”

“You said that the previous party you pulled me to.” You narrowed your eyes at her. “I couldn’t get up for a whole day because of that party. Don’t forget your wallet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sasha threw her wallet in her small bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “I promise that this will be the last time, I’ll even call Connie for the witness of my pact!” She placed a heartfelt palm over her chest, lifting her chin a little in the air. “I solemnly swear I am … keeping my promise.”

“You hesitated.”

The brown-haired girl giggled sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s kind of hard not to continue the quote from Harry Potter. You can’t blame me for that!”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better because Mikasa will be there.”

You blinked at her statement. “What does this have to do with her?”

Your roommate looped her arm with yours, pulling you in the direction of the elevators. “Because,” it sounded like she was talking to a child, “you were staring at her earlier during lunch period. I understand that because Mikasa looks so good every second of the day but there was something different about the way you’re staring at her.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Let me see, there’s some pizzaz there.”

“The pizzaz you’re talking about is me admiring her make-up — nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” came Sasha’s sing-song voice. “I will be the first one who will say ‘I told you so’ to your face when you two start dating.”

-

The night of the party was not as bizarre as you thought.

Sure, there were people having shots in the living room but there weren’t any extreme scenarios lying around unlike some of the parties Connie and Jean went to. It was mostly catching up with old friends or making connections with strangers by ranting about the education system of your university. All in all, it was a fun night, yet here you are, holding your cup of beer with two hands as you craned your neck to get a glimpse of Sasha. Your roommate disappeared as you turned to get a shot, leaving a confused you behind. To think you specifically asked Sasha to be by your side throughout the night. You cursed in your head, you being reliant on the presence of others surfacing. Your stress made you tip your head back, downing your drink in a go.

Without anything to do, you leaned back on the wall. Mind hazy, eyes glassy, you searched the living room for a spunky brown-haired girl that you were supposed to be buddies with. Instead of Sasha, you met gazes with a girl with stars for her eyes. She was equally mesmerized as she was staring straight at you. Everything became silent as your heartbeat resonated with hers. She was beautiful in her all-black outfit — a leather pencil skirt over fishnet stockings, cropped tank top, and combat boots. The two of you are contrasting with one another; her lipstick so dark whilst yours shone a pretty coral, her hair framing her face in a midnight pixie cut whilst yours were in pink waves cascading down, her entire appearance blending in the background whilst you were a beacon with your coordinating soft outfit. 

God damn it, Sasha was right.

You are definitely falling in love with Mikasa Ackerman.

Mikasa who you saw reading tarot cards of her blonde friend. Mikasa who you bumped into during the opening ceremony two years ago. Mikasa who you discovered to have an affinity for electric guitars when you stumbled in one of the auditoriums, her department’s band having an audition. Mikasa who never meets your gaze because you make her nervous at how effortless you carry yourself. 

But tonight, she never looked away from you, her eyes having an adoring yet determined shine.

She stopped in front of you, mere inches separating you two. You looked up at her, her combat boots making her taller than she already is. You saw her eyes flick to your lips, your breath hitching at the thought of having her dark lipstick on any part of your body. With a careful tilt of her head, Mikasa ducked her head a little to fully meet your eyes face to face. “I saw you’re alone,” her voice is still soft-spoken as if she was afraid that she was scaring you. It might be because of the liquid and verbal courage she got from drinking and listening to her best friends because Mikasa had no plans of letting you go tonight. “I thought you needed company.”

A breath came out of your lips, your proximity making Mikasa feel it. “Uhm, if it’s you, I don’t see why not?”

A large smile brightened Mikasa’s face before it dimmed as she lowered her gaze to your lips once more. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”

Maybe your mind was too hazy with alcohol or it could be because you accepted your feelings for the black-haired girl, so you whispered, lips brushing against hers in the most addicting way possible, “Just kiss me, Mikasa.”

Her lips softly moved against yours in a slow dance, the inches separating you disappearing as Mikasa wrapped an arm around your waist. You lift a hand to cup her jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and to brush your tongue with hers. You felt her shiver, biting your lower lip to make you open up more, with your whimpers tingling her hearing. Mikasa pulled away, trailing firm kisses on the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Seeing the black kiss mark on your skin, she smiled and placed fluttering kisses on your neck up to your cheek. Opening your eyes, the silver grays in front of you have never been so beautiful. You returned the favor of placing kiss marks. You stood on your tiptoes, feeling Mikasa’s hand steadying you, and left a coral pink mark on the corner of her mouth. 

Mikasa dipped her head, placing her lips close to your ear.

“I want to slow dance with you,” she sung to your ear. “I know all the other boys are tough and smooth and I got the blues. I want to slow dance with you.” Mikasa hid a small smile at your flustered expression. “So can I be your vampire queen, Bonnie?”

The moment you said yes, there was a shout in the crowds. “Hell yeah, your plan worked, Eren, Armin!”

You and Mikasa stared at each other with wide eyes before laughing. 

“Let’s go ditch this party.”

“Thought you’d never ask, Bonnie.”

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time. 

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that. 

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now. 

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays. 

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise. 

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?” 

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever. 

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper. 

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk. 

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.” 

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound. 

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her. 

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together. 

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own. 

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower. 

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).” 

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.” 

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself. 

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.” 

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing. 

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working. 

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back. 

- 

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked. 

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life. 

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?” 

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly. 

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head. 

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.” 

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?” 

“Yes-why?” 

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.” 

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.” 

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[bau-baby]

doctor’s order’s

spencer reid x gn!reader

word count: 1094

warnings: none :)

A/N: This was really fun to write, but Spencer goes a little OOC towards the end. Still really fun to write, hope you enjoy!

You had recently been ordered by a therapist to ‘step away from your desk and do something fun for once.’ That landed you mindlessly driving through D.C., hoping to have something just jump out at you. You had just about given up and were about to call in to see if Emily needed you at the BAU when you saw an infamous mop of curls and a strikingly familiar purple scarf.

All your therapist said was to step away from your desk, she didn’t say anything about doing anything with work friends. But Spencer was always more than a ‘work friend.’ It was clear to the many profilers who saw you interact with each other on a day-to-day basis. If they can see it, why can’t you two? 

You try to catch up with the tall genius, but with your small steps and his long strides, it’s no use. So, you opt for a different tactic to get Spencer’s attention.

“Spence! Spencer!” You call, getting weird looks from passerby’s on the street. 

You know the image of you and Spencer is that of a funny one. You, speed walking and calling for someone who could be mistaken for one of the very light posts that lined the sides of the street.

You look crazy.

Not the point, nor the time.

Spencer finally turns around, a look of recognition and a smile morphing his face into what you know as everlasting comfort and timelessness. You return the smile, finally getting a chance to catch up to him.

“So what’s the boy genius doing away from his desk on a Saturday afternoon?” You ask, stuffing your hands into your front pockets.

“Therapist’s orders. I have to get out and do something outside of work, something fun,” He says, reciting every word of what he was told.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist and she said the same thing! What are the chances?”

You expected Spencer to actually tell you the chances of it, and he almost does. Instead, he opts to just smile and laugh to himself softly, you do the same. 

He eventually tells you the chances of two people getting the same orders from two different medical professionals, and you go ahead and backlog that stat in the back of your brain as you listen intently. 

You had picked up a habit of doing that more recently, just so that you can go and look up more things later, and possibly write it down. You’ve always loved Spencer’s ramblings, and have learned over time how to keep up with everything he talks about. 

It’s one of the many things Spencer loves about you. Instead of cutting him short or tuning him out, you follow his train of thought and have a good conversation with him. The rest of the team doesn’t know how you do it, and is in awe when they see you two continually bounce off one another during conversation.

As you are walking, Spencer rattles off more facts about historical landmarks in D.C., and tells you many interesting things about The Smithsonian. You finally make it back to a park you know to be near Spencer’s apartment, and walk along the sidewalks as you continue talking and rambling with one another.

“Do you want ice cream?” Spencer asks, eyeing the ice cream truck parked at the curb about 20 yards in front of the both of you. You turn to him and nod, identical smiles on your faces. 

As you both order your ice cream, Spencer gets onto the history of ice cream, and you listen with the softest of smiles on your faces. When you both get your ice cream, you continue walking down the sidewalk. 

“Today… is the most normal, fun day I’ve had in a while Spence. It’s been really nice,”

Especially since you spent it with him.

Shut up.

It’s the truth!

“Yeah, it was really nice for me too. I’m glad you found me, otherwise I might’ve just called into work,” Spencer says, a laugh bubbling up at the end of his sentence.

“I was honestly about to do the same thing. Work takes up all of my time, so being away just feels weird. But at least I had a familiar face, right?” You say, looking up at the tall genius as you walk.

What you notice too late is the uneven sidewalk, which causes you to surge forward, falling. You brace for impact, but feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you back upright. You recognize the old wood and book smell to be Spencer.

He smells like cinnamon.

Not the time.

You laugh, looking up at Spencer.

“Uh, I’m really sorry. I know you, uh, aren’t a fan of touch. Thank you, though” You say, taking a small step back, still in Spencer’s embrace.

“It’s really okay. You should be more careful, you know. Wouldn’t want you tripping anywhere else,” He says, a playful smirk making his way to his face. With the implications, you notice it to be a little out of character.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be sure of that, doc,” You say, a tiny smile playing at your lips. 

You see Spencer’s eyes flick to your lips, and you copy the action.

Loving where this is going.

You have terrible timing.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Spencer says, eyes searching for you face for any sign of anything.

“I think I’d enjoy that,” Spencer smiles, rolls his eyes lightly, and leans in.

And you hate the cliché, but when Spencer leans down to kiss you, it feels like the world stops. Spencer had a warmth about him, and that very feeling courses through you, from your head to your toes, and it zings to your fingertips. 

You put your hands on his shoulders, and his fall lower on your waist. Breath is stupid thing, but nevertheless, a necessity. You pull apart, equal smiles on your face.

“Would you want to go to dinner sometime?” Spencer asks you, his eyes trying to read for any sign that you didn’t like what was happening.

“I’d love to, Spence,” You say, moving your hand to card through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I think, for now at least, I’d like to kiss you again,” Spencer says, and his smile grows on his face.

“Doctor’s orders?” You say coyly, the little smile pulling at your lips.

Spencer rolls his eyes, leaning in again as you two stand on the sidewalk.

You could get used to this.