#itnotes

[heyy-dont-mind-me]

🕺💃🎶 "'Cause there's nothing like it, Not like the way you move~" 🎶🕺💃

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Dance trend from tiktok, thought this was cute—

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[llycaons]

ALSO I kind of got a kick out of the disbelieving tone of that 'are you guys really not friends with your parents?' as if that's commonplace in like, any group of people on earth

[thomine]

in the nick of time

wanderer x reader, 1.1k words

there is a time for everything: leaving the office, eating meals, being vulnerable, death, and friendships.

general audiences, death & grief, no mention of scaramouche's name, food mention, not proofread

note: work tag :: office (day 2 of au august 2023)

When the bell rings, indicating that a workday has come to its end, only one person obeys it while the rest slave away on their keyboards, desperate to fulfil the day’s quota. With a heavy mission to prove you’re worthier than whoever the higher-ups rejected during recruitment and three tasks still on your list of responsibilities, you remain in your seat. However, your sight follows the colleague with pretty purple eyes and strangely fitting bowl cut as he leaves the office.

“Someone’s caught your attention?” your desk mate of 6 months asks, nudging your arm. You barely know him. “Is it his devilishly charming looks that stole your heart?”

“He would be all you described if he smiled once in a while,” you comment to be polite. Please, please pick up the hint you’re not in the mood to talk, especially when you have time against you. Unfortunately, he persists even if you’re furiously typing on your keyboard.

“What’s there to smile during work?”

He has a point… your back aches and your eyes hurt from staring at the screen all day, but that still doesn’t entice you to talk to him.

“Anyways,” he continues, “If I were you, I would be curious too. Ever since he joined, he’s never worked overtime. I wonder what’s his secret to finishing his tasks. I’ve not heard any seniors complain about him either, which says something since all the seniors know how to do is complain.”

A cough is heard from behind. You straighten your back and tab through your opened windows, hoping it seems like you’ve not been listening to your desk mate’s rant. The gaze of the senior pierces through your innocent cover, but thankfully, she’s more concerned of the one who made baseless remarks.

Your desk mate gets up to follow the senior. You praise whatever force of nature brought about this luck and return to work.

If you’re quick, perhaps you can chance upon that mystery guy you saw at the neighbourhood playground. You’re certain it’s the colleague who leaves on the dot. You’ve seen his retreating figure far too many times to be mistaken, yet you can’t be certain you saw him. As the man played with a child you recognized from the hospice care where you volunteer on weekends, he emits a laugh too gentle for whatever variant of grumpy your colleague wears on his face all day.

Fueled by curiosity, you find yourself blazing through your tasks.

As you’re finishing the last task for the day, the senior gives your table a visit. She plops down a list of items with a red star at the end.

“Your reliable friend’s work,” she explains before strutting away, obviously to take revenge. You swallow a groan.

Defeated, you give up on chasing your answer today. When you’re done, the security guard is your only companion in the office. He advises you to head home since it’s late, and you plan to listen to him, yet at crossroads—your house a turn away and the playground straight ahead—you surprise yourself by staking a step forward.

The tallest tower of the playground presents itself. Not a single laughter is heard.

You should return now that you’ve confirmed you’ve missed the chance—again—but you press on.

Hidden in the shadows of the night, a person sits on the swings. His head hangs low.

When he notices your presence, he lifts his head up and you’re graced with purple eyes.

He’s crying.

In his hands is a piece of paper with the hospice care’s logo at the top. You’ve filed such documents several times, and they only spell pain. The inevitable has begun.

“Hey, um,” you start, trying to recall the words you were told when your grandmother passed away too, but they don’t feel authentic for this situation. There’s something else you needed to address first. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He gets up, crushes the paper in his hands before sliding it into his pockets.

“Good,” he breathes out, words bordering on a threat and a plea. “What are you doing here anyways? Were you stalking me?”

You feel heat rise to your face.

“I wouldn’t call it that…” you reply. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“You’re not very convincing when you speak as if you’ve been caught,” he points out, walking past you. He could have bumped into your shoulder, but his choice not to feels like he has the bullet to take your life and misses his shot on purpose.

“You don’t own this playground,” you bite back, tiredness from the day creeping on your tongue. Yes, you’re glad you found the answer to your mystery guy, although you wished it reveled itself without opening a can of worms. You really should have listened to the security guard. “You’re crying right in the open. Of course, someone would see you.”

He turns and narrows his eyes. That’s the grumpy face you’ve seen for months. You’re starting to wonder if you’re drunken on moonlight to have hallucinated whatever crack of vulnerability he showed.

“Whatever,” you add after you remember what he’s going through. Grief is not something to treat like a petty argument. “I’m sorry, okay? We can pretend as if this never happened.”

And true to your words, he leaves you in dust.

The next day, when the bell rings, he disappears as he normally does, except you catch the way his movements are sluggish. He barely has the energy to frown too.

The next week, his routine does not change, drastically at least. He stopped buying packets of drinks to bring home after a long day of work, but he still leaves on the dot. In fact, there are days when he leaves a few minutes earlier yet returns the next with darkened eyebags.

“You’re still always staring at him,” your desk mate of 6 months and a week notes. You ignore him lest he piles up your tasks again. This time, you’re determined to finish work before the convenient store closes, unable to see someone grapple with such devastating truth alone.

“If this is about the last time, I’m sorry okay.” Your desk mate's apology falls on death ears.

You don’t even say goodbye when you clock out before him, mind focused on doing one thing.

You leave the convenient store with a heavy load of instant noodles and snacks. If your calculations are right, it should last your greiving colleague a month.

The next day, you arrive early and place the food items on his desk.

There’s buzz around the office now. Mr Never-Smile has a secret admirer? People whisper. You’re bracing yourself for an unpleasant confrontation, but it never happens.

Instead, you receive a note on your desk a few weeks later.

I ran out of food. - You know who

author's note: this fic took a turn i did not expect, but the ending is rather cute if you think about it. i would love to expand on this one day. it talks about themes i find delicious such as grief.

[dwtdog]

sorry serpias but sapnap is now alpha. That guy is more of a beta that i'm a Omega

FOR REALLLL

[jjcocker]

I can make any song be edgelordial

[hornedmagpieart]

Added my fics to my ko-fi for the low low price of zero bucks!

[ace-detectiv3]

Juat in case you're wondering how I'm doing

My left eye is fuvked up again I am on the verge on breakjnf down and itnot even 10 am yet

[emmyarts7]

Funfact: I happen to have an octoling boy named Thorn (codenamed Agent 7) who has black markings and purple tips, but itnot really a greyscaling issue. He kinda always had the black and purple markings because he's a poison/dark type....and a jinx.

So, I'm sure he'll do his best to help out 4 to feel more at ease and understand her plight in wanting to fit in, given he gets outcasted as a jinx

OMG, looks like fours getting a mini found family! Fours would really appreciate Thorns attempts to make her feel more comfortable. She wouldn’t care about him being a “jinx”. as long as he’s a good person that’s all she needs

[sourw0lfs]

Now that posting date claims have concluded for the ST Reverse Big Bang, I can let everyone know when to expect answers for all the fics I’ve been teasing for weeks!

Fics include:

🍽️ we made quite a mess, babe (wmqamb) - Steddie

👻 in the nick of time (itnot) - Steddie

🎤 like it was the very first night (liwtvfn) - Hellcheer

[blue-pikmin-gaming]

hicaht welcome too my. twig stmrem, tday iam goign to becem numebr one cocoed melun speedrun

soo firstof we, goto the left wa l and pres a buton, half a time. thhne we, clipthrough t he wal, andtake jj itnot he final evel: hell

[spoonietimelordy]

Trick or treat!

Trick ahahah 🪄

You've fallen into the whirlwind of light !

(I did my best, don't judge ^^" I can't change the exposure time of pictures on my phone so it's not a true whirlwind)

[scared-slenderman]

Collect my occupational safety regulations so you don't have to be scared!!

@osha-slenderman

ohh... thaat might heelp but also is itnot fun to live dangereously sometiiimes...?o i love decrepitude.........

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

So here's the thing.

I love writing. It's always been my preferred outlet to work thru events in my life and my feelings about them.

I love eot. It is my first child and I have already learned so much about writing and myself while working on it.

But eot is a pretty dark story, and I need to take breaks while writing it in order to maintain my own mental health. I'm learning how to not feel bad about these breaks and to accept that breaks, in general, are good.

But I still wanna write stuff. And I still wanna share that stuff with you. I've been working on some other happier, fluffier (crackier) stories, but idk which ones to throw out into the world first.

wip masterlist

[arkatrine]

is it homophobic if a bathroom doesn’t have a hook for purses or bags i want to say yes but i just need a second opinion

[becoming-not-became]

Wait

Sitting in this pause this interlude this ellipsis before the next whatever be it whistle hello or hugI too wonder as I’m sure you do too will this end how we want or will itnot ever end

[academyoftheheartandmind]

Mountain Ash

By Gregg Norman it stood alone lakesidewith only tules close bybut back a bittall Burr Oakslooked over itwith favorthere in no-man’s-landwhere none but spiritsand gods held swaywe thought thenas people dothat it might doto fill a spotby the cottagethat needed a treesensibly if notdesperatelyso we dug it outthough its rootsdefied our bladescut off at the kneeswe planted itnot knowing its nameor…