#or played i'm probably not good anymore since it's been *coughs* years since I was playing every day in school

[iguessitsjustme]

Beloved followers that know me so well, I need your help making a decision:

I have two things. Umbrellas and music. And I am currently torn between my obsessions. thank god there are no sailboats in bl as of yet or i would be even more screwed

[potatowithahat]

A doctor's notepad

A sdv Harvey fic

Winter 28th year 0

       Well I guess this is a thing. My psychiatrist in Zuzu city recommended keeping a journal to help with anxiety and loneliness. I guess I'll uh… see how this thing works out. It will probably be pretty short entries though. I'm a busy man after all. Why am I writing this like someone's expecting to read them? This is silly. I'm going to bed

                                              -Harvey, the doctor 

Spring 1, year 1

       Well Luis tells me there's a new farmer in town! Good for business,  I suppose. I need the extra money. And frankly that farm was a hazard either way. I can't even count anymore the amount of scrapes and bruises Jaz and Vincent have come in with from playing out there. Its practically part of the forest now. Whoever they are is going to have a hell of a time cleaning that mess up.

                                              -Harvey, the doctor

Spring 7, year 1

       I guess I spoke too soon about that old farm. Seems the farmers got it fixed up nice enough. I was at Pierre's for groceries Friday and I overheard Pierre talking about how they've been buying lots of seeds. Then, when I went to the museum yesterday I found they have made a deal with Gunther to donate artifacts! I saw them on the way home but they walked passed me with there head down. I think they might be a bit shy. 

                                              -Harvey, the doctor

Spring 8, Year 1

       The Farmer came in and brought me coffee this morning!!!! They apologized for being rude yesterday and said it was a good will gift. I told them it was no problem,  and how much I appreciated the coffee.  They just nodded and headed off, citing some chores they had back at the farm. They were very nice about it. I felt like they were in a hurry to leave though. 

                                              -Harvey, the doctor

Spring 9, year 1

       The Farmer brought me another coffee today! I think Maru might have told her I liked it. Or maybe they still feel bad? I'm not quite sure. They just walked up to my desk, sat the coffee down and quickly walked out. It felt a little odd. Other then that George has a cough. I need to talk about it with him.

                                              -Harvey, the doctor

Spring 13, year 1

The Farmers been bringing me coffee ever since the seventh. They're very quiet about it though, just setting it on my desk. I'm still not used to it. They sought me out at the egg Festival today however!!!! She was telling me how much they loved dieing and searching for eggs as a kid.  They got so animated about it but stopped themselves and apologized. They walked away before I could say how much I was enjoying the conversation. I'll have to talk to them later.

                                              -Harvey, the doctor

Spring 24, year 1

       I almost asked the farmer to dance with me. Almost. I couldn't go through with it though. I didn't have the Nerve and I mean.. who am I to ask? I'm just the town doctor. I think she asked Shane,  but he must have turned her down because he was still dancing with Penny. I stayed with Maru,  as always. We had a good time. Couldn't help but notice the farmer glancing over at me now and then. Or maybe it was just because I was so focused on them? Not sure 

                                              -Harvey, the doctor

Don't you fret, there will be more in the near future!!!

Thank you so much for reading

Edit: part two is live!! Find it here!

If you'd like to read more of my stories, feel free to visit my Ao3, or check out my masterlist here on tumblr!!!

As always I'm a little gremlin when it comes to writing so if you have any fic ideas please feel free to drop an ask!!!!

Also I'd love to thank @minnieplier-blog for the idea from there lovely ask!!!!

[manonamora-if]

May Check-In

This is a bit late, because I've been debugging the past two days.

So I bought Tropico 6 during the last Steam sale. If you haven't seen me posting for a while, blame by wish to be a benevolent dictator of a fake Caribbean island.

Onto the usual index:

Recap of last month’s progress

IF Events in the Next Month (I won't do this anymore)

Plan for the next month

Still long post under the break. If you want a mini version, head on over to itch.io as usual!

April Progress

From last month, what did we do:

Play more games: ✅

I started so good, finishing reviewing the SeedComp! entries, as well as the Revival Jam and had started on the Spring Thing... then I got distracted by the TALJ and Tropico... I also need to update @manonamora-if-reviews at some point... It's at least 100 reviews behind.

Finish the Code of Ch5✅ of Harcourt and edit the Ending Chapter ✅

YES! IT IS DONE! I have finally fixed those godamn doors in the maze that were giving me so much trouble. Also MelS has gotten my edits on all the Chapters/files (and was given extra comments because I also fixed some code in previous chapters). He is hard at work dying editing the missing text.

The only thing left for me is to: - add the maze visuals (map, book/letter formatting) - settle on a design for the final maze puzzle (need to so some research) - include the missing chapter/text (waiting for MelS)

Finish fixing The Roads Not Taken. Or An Eggcellent Preparation. Maybe the other parser too (it just needs a smidge of polish).

LOL... This is the shameful failure that is following me around, ringing that darn bell.

Should i give up on it? Maybe one day...

Complete the TALJ entry. ✅

I have been battling this one the whole morning trying to fix so many bugs. But I'm pretty happy about it. For one: it was actually tested by someone (not like last year). For two: it's actually an easy parser (like you can't lose!).

And the idea had been ringing in my head for so long, I had the prompt submitted to last SeedComp!.

But yeah, this had been happening for a while already. And even though it doesn't have the level of polish I had hopped (future me problem with updates), it is probably one of the better one I've made.

Anyway, play Lysidice and the Minotaur (I'll have an official post tomorrow). (and you can vote for it if you want...)

What else happened this month????

Well, the SeedComp! ended, so I had to deal with all the admin, and making the cool stickers for the different entries. That took quite a bit of time... but worth it! Some really cool entries this year, yet again!

Well, this is more of it's been done last month but released this month: Les lettres du Docteur Jeangille has been translated into English, for the Spring Thing (in the Main Garden, if you feel like voting for games). You can find the post there!

I've been also drafting some post-mortems, one for Jeangille and one for Lysidice. They should come out during the month, at some point.

:/ I have to update my website again now...

I wanted to do an entry in the Dialogue Jam, but my idea didn't pan out on time (too buggy for release). Or eer... cough cough... I had enough will power not to do it? Anyway, also I made the Really Bad IF Jam, which starts today!

What’s happening in May?

As mentioned at the start, I'm dropping this section from my check-in. First, it's buried deep in a wall of text, so no visibility (it should have been a separate post, oh well). If people actually check the events out, I'm sure it would be a miracle.

But mainly... a zine has popped up recently, specifically about IF called What's New in IF? (@if-whats-new), releasing weekly. Since it includes events, like the jams/comps/conferences I used to mention here (and it looks more sleek than a Tumblr post), I'll just leave them do all that hard work instead 😅

So yea... as long as the zine is happening, I'm out 😅 Well, I'll drop them links to my jams and stuff I see, because they seem to be looking for help in finding stuff.

The PLANtm for May

I'm playing Tropico, so I'm getting and will probably going to get less stuff done. Which is not a bad think. Breaks are important. Will I go on a break this month?

Probably should...

But if I don't, where's what I hope to do:

Play more games: On my juicy list I have: the Spring Thing, the newly released Dialogue Jam and TALJ, the Locus Jam and Really BAD IF is happening this month too (so more gameses!), and a few non-comp releases I've had my eye on.

Code Chapter 6/Endings: I need to wait for MelS for this, since he's editing my comments. I'll prob look for visuals for the puzzle in the meantime.

Fixing an older games. Instead of new, do something old.

Write the next Chapter/Scene of a WIP, because it would be good to actually do that. And make some actual progress at seeing stuff being done. (I want to write some Razac snippets....)

Let's have a boring month!

~

The 2024 To-Do List:

LOL, I've only done the website! :D

The hopefully maybe easy to handle To-Do:

fix the bugs in EDOC + overall the French version to match (waiting for Adventuron to get the French language)

fix the bugs of TRNT + find a way to add the missing pieces (giving up on the translation)

fixing the interface of LPM and the popups + check animal interactions

figure out the One-Button JavaScrip/jQuery issue...

edit the loading screens of the completed tiny games to include the program/format logo at least.

The 'Need a Bunch of Content to update but it's planned!' To-Do:

Update my website (bunch new title - also I don't think the logo clicky thing work...) + redo my itch page

Finish TTATEH (MelS dependent)

Finish Exquisite Cadaver (half-way mark by this summer - manif)

Finish P-Rix - Space Trucker (main path at least)

Update CRWL (it's been almost two years... I'm ashamed)

The Unlikely But it Would be Dope To-Do

Finish The Dinner as it was planned (and translate)

Finish In the Blink of an Eye as it was planned (and retranslate)

Finish The Rye in the Dark City

Fixing TTTT (at least fixing, maybe try adding some storylets)

And finally The 'It's impossible, but one can wish' TO-DO:

Remaster SPS IH (if I managed to start this after completing the rest... I'm going to eat a whole sheet cake).

Start the IFComp project (2025? Might end up being a ST?)

[update-blog-bp9]

I know a lot of People will judge me for saying it BUT!

Small rant! Has BIG SPOILERS, so if you don't wanna be spoiled yet, DON'T READ!

The FNaF Movie was AWESOME! Why was it awesome? LET ME EXPLAIN!

First off, I'm sorry to all the other FNaF Fans that will read this, but it HAS to be done. (I am a fan myself but yeah, been a fan since FNaF 4 came out, which has been a while ago. TvT) It was clear that the Movie will be NOTHING like the Games. I mean yeah, it could have given you more spooks (*Cough* even though I was satisfied with what I got as spooks and murders *Cough*), BUT first off, it would have been nothing more but a filmed version of what we played and nothing interesting would have happened.

Mike would have sat in the office, watched Cams, closed doors and shit, until he burned the place down or something. It was clear, from the trailers, that the Movie might NOT be ANYTHING like the Games.

For an alternate universe of FNaF, I found it awesome. You saw two sides of the coin, from the missing Children too. They can act like kids, they can have humanity still, they are still just children, but they can also get VERY deadly and dangerous (Proven in the scenes where Max and the others died brutally).

Also let us not forget that the Movie was for people of 16 years of age and that into the FNaF Fandom a lot of Teenagers and children joined (and probably still do). It was not rated R and not for 18 year olds only, so even Teenagers can watch it and not just barely legally turned grown ups. Not everyone with 18 also can take a lot of blood, so I found the Movie pretty nice, it showed both sides and it showed pretty much that the Animatronics CAN be very murderous if they WANT to be.

I know some or maybe even many of you were disappointed, but why film a Movie about something, we already KNOW? We know about the Afton Family (At least everyone who played the Games and watched Matpad), we know about the missing children and their names, who died first, who William shouldn't have killed, etc. Literally a lot of Gacha Tubers MAKE Movies about all that already, of course they change it to make it an AU, but still! Heck other fans made small FANMOVIES about FNaF, it wouldn't have been as original anymore, as you would have thought, so the changes in the Movie were awesome in my eyes.

It was something new, it was a bit more unpredictable, it had some shockers and it had blood and some gore in there too, everything I would WANT from a Movie. Why have a Movie about something, you already know and can predict everything of, that got pretty much solved so far? (I mean it isn't entirely solved yet, not all of it, but I have a feeling we are getting close)

A new thing, a new Storyline and a few unexpected events. I mean, WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT VANESSA IS WILLIAM'S DAUGHTER IN THE MOVIE?! I only realized it after she started to talk about him and that he was a VERY BAD man. I was like: "Eyoooo, WAIT A FUCKIN' MINUTE! NO WAY! I THOUGHT HE DIDN'T PULL BITCHES AND WAS LEFT CHILDLESS!" (Not that I hated Steve Raglan/William Afton. He was awesome, wish I saw more of him. Mathew really played William well. Respect.)

Or WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT, that these kids still had some humanity left and just wanted to play, until Willy Wonka told them to kill someone for him, or someone broke in and decided to trash the place? I wouldn't have! AND THEY WERE DAY ACTIVE TOO!!! No 6AM clock chime and everything is over! No! They were active and moving ALL THE TIME! MAJOR UPGRADE! You were NEVER safe from them. AND THEY COULD ALSO LEAVE THE BUILDING! Also something that in the Games NEVER was possible! I mean yeah, only GF (Golden Freddy) was out, but if he can leave the Pizzeria, so can the others, right?

So my point: Movie was AWESOME, the people put a lot of thought and care into it, the Storyline was amazing and not the same shit we already knew and predicted, it had a good balance of things (Blood x gore x humor and all that), the Characters were amazing and honetly I am proud. WE EVEN GOT A SPRINGLOCK FAILURE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! QWQ

This was the first Movie of FNaF,(I hope Dawko is right and we get a trilogy) which means that in the next Movie (If it comes out), we could get more of the new Storyline AND there could be more horror and if it will be a TRILOGY, then we will get WILLY WONKA IN FNAF THREE, BABYYYYYYYY!!! And THAT WILL be EPIC! After all, Springtrap might be the most BRUTAL and AGGRESSIVE Animatronic in FNaF, because of the Serial Killer traits, his hatred for Mike and Abby, he will still have the urge to kill them, so buckle the fuck up and maybe he will either also try and kill Vanessa (If she survives the Hospital and got out until then), or he will try and apologize.

Why would he apologize? Everyone who saw him stab his own daughter and paid close attention, saw that he instantly regretted it. He actually felt genuinely bad. But he had to get himself together, because of Mike and Abby. I think, if he would have had the time and chance, he would have brought her, himself, to the hospital too. It didn't seem like, he didn't care anymore, but he was in deep shit himself and had to take care of that first, to get away alive. Which, sadly for him, backfired. (Yes, I said it, William Afton showed some heart and I take full advantage of that.)

With all that said, HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT!!!

[talesofunlikelysapphicpairings]

HELLOOOOO?! IS ANYONE THERE?!?!?!?!

Lmao, welcome back to me !!! I know, it was the longest hiatus I've had since I started this Tumblr account but life has been C R A Z Y.

I've already talked about the fact that I was taken off the Latin Honor list, so that's 3 years of hard work trying to maintain grades, extracurriculars, and social life down the drain. Such a wasteful thing cause I only needed a few points to secure my grade— grades that I had after a loooot of efforts but the idiot 'instructor' randomly decided to take out. A shame really, since I only have one year left to finish my Bachelor's. My mother's 50th birthday gift was supposed to be my Magna cum Laude. I guess I have to think of a new present, lol.

Also, I had to process a lot of trauma since last year and the first half of this year has been traumatic for me. 😂 Had to process these bad boys.

Last September my father had a newborn son. (Child of separated parents here.) Decided to play house with his new girl and her kids, with their new baby (not me) while the rest of his relatives sided with them, too and went against me. It was a messy business standing up for myself (yuck, toxic grown adults arguing with and gaslighting a twenty something) but I managed it. They've learned not to fight me nor ignore me, so I'll take that as a win.

Soon after, my mother adopted a toddler-boy, too. Then played house with her new boy and their own son, too.

I came from a country where being a boy is more impressive than being a golden child your whole life. My house right now is literally filled with gold medals, trophies, certificates, sash, crowns, and awards. But of course, I'm not a boy, so... "I won't be able to pass on the family name." (Like, fuck off. I'll be the most successful member of this family anybody will ever know; you'll only be known cause of your association with me.)

I am soooo glad I don't live with any of them anymore. I've made a home for myself (yes, their money but the point still stands).

Numerous health scares. Appendicitis attacks. Astigmatism attacks. I got bitten by a puppy twice in a span of two weeks. Then the puppy died so we knew he got rabies. (I got my shots, don't worry.) I twisted my ankle. And I've been coughing and sneezing every morning for three weeks now (allergies). You know, the usual.

In good news, I have fallen in love with Eve Best. So... If you watch edits of her on TikTok, you have probably already seen my account since I comment on the edits ... A lot... you just have to guess which one is mine. Lmao, good luck with that.

Also, I was chosen by the cat distribution system!!! I got a cat now. Her full name is Zumi Issi Sannanna Malyk. She came down from my ceiling's open panel one day, laid on my lap, and stayed at my house. I named her Zumi because she likes zoomies (she broke two glasses and one vase in three months!); Issi because I loved Valyrian even though I don't speak it; Sannanna because I got addicted to that Bollywood song that became a TikTok trend; and Malyk after one of my pen names. She's an orange cat so you know she's a handful. Aside from her, stray cats also stay at my garage when it's raining and it's rainy season where I am, so they fill my garage. (I can't adopt them all cause they don't stay in one place. I feed them and keep them warm instead.)

I guess, you can also say that I've been chosen by the dog guarding system, too. Since there are a few stray dogs that are guarding my house from the outside. They run away when I try to come near though, so I just leave the food on my door or toss it in their direction.

I've grown two plants. They bloomed, by the way. Then the one that's got three flowers in it (after ten weeks of me taking care of it!!!)— got stolen. RIGHT AT MY FRONT PORCH. I didn't really mind, 'cause the people who stole it might need it more you know. I hope it cheered them up. Then the other one who stayed with me for five weeks more, got a big chunk of its stem stolen, too. My mother said they probably used it to plant more. I hope the stem grows cause my plant died! I cried about it, too.

University starts again next, next week. Aside from my regular extracurriculars, thesis, internship, and usual busy-ness, I am also set to lead my program's Theatre Org so that's fun (and busy).

So that's the update on my life. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. 😂 I'm back for my usual shenanigans and yapping now.

[allianettemie5]

So, let's see what's currently on my mind:

— Merlin x HP crossovers that are on my reading list

— A bunch of Merlin fics really

— Whoever came up with the Marauders fan cast, you piece of garbage that kills for money. Just HOW you managed to cast my beloved Quicksilver, Peter Parker and Prince Caspian plus my earliest favourite Doctor companion, I'm fuming that this is just a fandom thing and does not exist.

— Guardians of the Galaxy made it back to my AO3 (just as I decided that I'm not obsessed with Marvel anymore lol). Found family trope kills me a little every time I stumble upon it.

— Smosh (wtf? Where did that come from? I've never even seen Smosh in my life before this week)

— I may or may not have a little crush on one of the guys from Smosh (*cough*—Shayne—*cough*)

— Yeah, okay, Ian x Anthony is a strong ship

— I've just heard, I have no idea whether it was a bird or a car, that space beeping noise from the new Star Trek movies, and I just freaked out in the middle of the street

— A list of soundtracks that send me chills (SW, ST, Pirates, GI, LotR, HP, Merlin — god they're all soooo good)

— English punctuation sucks

— Crepus Ragnvindr probably was a Harbinger

— Skadj is from Snezhnaya, was best friends with Ajax, ran away to Mond with Luc, settled down there; a few years later he travels with the Traveller, Diluc and Kaeya to Liyue to complete a few commissions, and they run into Zhongli and Childe in Xiangling's restaurant. Awkward confrontation, protective Luc, toxic Tartaglette, some revelations about the death of Skadj's parents and how Diluc was involved in it. It's rough.

— A bunch of cheesy Valentines ideas for PR1

— Chilled honest to god looks like Jack Sparrow to me with that moustache. He can easily play Curse of the Black Pearl-Era Jack and look very nice. He just HAS to put on some eyeliner. Honestly, the outfit from that Derp Crew skit, and he's the sexiest man alive.

— ZRC is U2, PlatyChaos is Coldplay, Chilled x Jeremy is Green Day, Jeremy x Platy is The Cure, AxialFawkes is SUGR?'s Oh, Death album, and Skadj x Vik is the intro music from the first MiB movie

— Nobody's talking about two PR2 server members with GO pfps (*looking @ heisttheblackflag* you probably know what I'm talking about)

— I'm thinking if I want to start a mini-event related to PR1 on this account with me writing mini-scenes from prompts in my ask. I really need some practice. I mean, the ask has been open since the very beginning for that.

[zenatness]

Been up all night coughing and being miserable and sick, so... obviously I played more Baldur's Gate 3.

I've started a new character because, well, I finished paladin Tav's desperate adventure to be therapist, rehabilitator, meal, and boyfriend to Astarion. Oh, and there was something about some mind flayers.

I think the game forgot about the mind flayers as well during the mirror conversation. Astarion's upset that he can't see his own reflection anymore (yet still drags around at least two mirrors to have in camp? Ok, dude, but I hope you carry your own gear) and you can just... describe his face for him. Instead of letting him see himself through your eyes via tadpole, like you can do later in his story? ??????

Also a little bit annoyed that we didn't get to ask why he kidnapped all of the Gur children tbh. Like, did Cazador specify that it had to be all of them and, if so, why? Why piss off the monster hunters just before ascending? Why the desire to screw over the very people he's using as unwitting tools and could have further use of? Or did Astarion just decide that they made suitable targets on his own? It just felt like one of those things a paladin should ask for clarification on.

But yes. No ascending for Astarion, thank you very much, in this household we don't kill 7000 innocents to appease our boyfriend's fears when we can just stab his tormentor to death. But what if we did...? I had to check and played it for a little while, and uh... yeah. I'm probably going to have to backtrack at some point and play out the rest of the game from that point until the end. It made my Tav an oathbreaker (and frankly the powers on offer are... not good when that happens. I need that healing) and Astarion changed. There was a lot of bickering about making Tav into a proper vampire, treating him as an equal, etc, and Astarion was so not having it. A spawn or nothing (I honestly find it difficult to understand how there are people who think this is a good ending for him?). Increasingly frustrated at having thrown everything away for him and only being promised crumbs (and, frankly, an eternity in slavery) I chose to decline becoming a vampire spawn and broke up with him.

It was beautiful. The shock, the outrage, the disbelief. Getting to tell the most powerful vampire that actually, no, you don't care for him the way he is now - you thought he was perfect when you met *chef's kiss* (nevermind that the first thing he did was lie to your face and pull a knife on you)

But I really like that you get the option in the non-Ascended romance ending to tell him that going forward, your focus will be on finding a way for him to be out in the sun again. Sure, you can insist on heroics or taking responsibility for those 7000 spawn, but... after dragging him around on your heroics all game it felt nice to just be able to say "now we focus on you and what you want."

And I do believe he mentions that it's been almost 200 years since he was turned, so... true resurrection should still be an option.

[bigger-rat]

(Pls don’t put this in the f.hr tags cause I don’t want to bring up bad memories for ppl) but I remember when things were imploding and that one group (you know the one) literally scrambling for things to make the game problematic to cover up the fact that they were just angry that the author wouldn’t cater to them and agree with their bullshit shipping discourse (they’re all self proclaimed ‘antis’ whatever that means and the author didn’t understand what that was and when the author didn’t blindly agree with it and take a position in the bullshit shipping discourse they all turned on them, they might try to cover and say that they don’t like the game or creator anymore for a different reason that doesn’t sound as stupid but THATs literally the base of why the fandom implosion happened. Because of bullshit shipping discourse agshjd)

BUT anyway the funniest thing they tried to claim was that sidestep, the 30 year old MC, was grooming Herald… a 25 year old man going on 26. Do you remember that?? Am I going crazy?? They definitely tried to claim that aghdjd god I’m dying laughing right now while remembering this. They were so desperate

I won’t lie I am forever bitter at them because they sent the author tons of death threats and hate mail & then acted like the author had some sort of responsibility towards them (the entitlement from them was and still is crazyyy) when the author was also sick w covid and had job and financial insecurity due to covid complications and *god forbid* didn’t want to and probably couldn’t physically handle their fandom wank, and then they acted like the author was the Literal Devil for taking care of themselves

Everything honestly has a silver lining though because the writing quality has just absolutely skyrocketed since the authors time on tumblr, and I feel like without that much needed break that the author took due to all the stress that book 2 wouldn’t have been nearly as good as it is now. The author also appears to be thriving now, which is awesome. Sometimes we need a painful journey to have a happy ending :D

(Sorry to vomit in your inbox like this lmfao)

No lol you're right and you should say it.

What they did to Malin was VILE. They were nothing but kind to the community, they appreciated every piece of fanart people made, were active in the community, they let us play bits of book 2 long before it was out. And these rabid fans literally bullied them out of the fandom.

The author shouldn't have so publicly do things for a specific few friends IMO, not because it's inherently bad but because everyone is insane on this website and that was a ticking time bomb.

And then, god forbid, someone came up with a compelling but problematic sidestep/herald ship (COUGH smute COUGH), and the author liked it, and how DARE they like a problematic relationship in a story about a LITERAL FUCKING VILLAIN. The pearl-clutching is unimaginable.

I don't remember people saying that Herald is being groomed lol but I do remember people going off on power dynamics and how it's an abusive relationship and like. Yes, the romantic relationship in the game where you invade people's minds and also constantly beat your friends/lovers into a bloody pulp are.. a little problematic! Grow the fuck up and go watch steven universe or something.

Imagine reading a book about a literal SUPER VILLAIN and being shocked that they're a bad person who has toxic relationships. Just fucking imagine that. The book in which you routinely kidnap people's bodies without their consent and invade their minds? Problematic?? Wooow.

I'm sad that Malin got chased out of the community but I hope they can sleep better now that they, a 40-50 year old person with a job and a life, don't have to navigate the kindergarten drama of some terminally online zoomers and their shitty shipping fantasies.

[clockworkowl]

I was searching through the mess of randomness that is the notes app on my work computer and came across the introductory backstory I'd written for the time when the 'culture club' thought it would be fun to have a conference call where everyone was dressed up like superheroes (which, of course, was going to overcome my natural cynicism of workplace 'fun' activities, because any day I can dress with the abandon of a 5-year old with free reign of a Children's Museum's costume shop knowing that I have a free-pass from ridicule, is a day I'm going to take advantage of.)

In hopes of luring in participation from people who didn't have a random collection of Batman and/or Marvel masks lying around their homes (which a surprising number of coworkers did actually happen to just have at the ready in case Disney or Commissioner Gordan needed them to step in.) or at least to have something to do their judging event on that wasn't throwing a dart at a board of a bunch of dudes in the same batman mask to decide on 'best costume', they created a category for 'create your own superhero or super-villain' which allowed you to dress up as your creation and wear whatever (including your normal clothes claiming you were in your Kentian mild-mannered disguise ) and be able to snag honours so long as you prepared a backstory and description of the character.

This is my true wheelhouse. I never seem to have the motivation or attention span to write actual prose anymore, but I can lose hours in spinning an elaborate backstory like nothing else because it's all ideas and fragments. In middle school and high school whenever I would get stuck cast in those 'impatient woman in elevator' roles so the department head could make sure the acting part wouldn't get in the way of making me do double duty as props and assistant director; I used to create enormous backstories for that character and how they invisibly wove through the plot of the show to reach those 30 seconds of overlap with the lead characters. (This is probably why Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead is one of my favourite plays; because firstly, it's fucking brilliant, and secondly it felt like it vindicated the maybe over-the-top thing I just always did on my own, that most of my drama club friends sort of rolled their eyes at.)

This is also all just a long-winded intro to where I just wanted to post the little character intro monologue I'd written to justify wanting to wear an eye patch, a ww2 nurse's cape, cyberpunkish mid-calf leather boots, and a random blonde wig for the day. (And I am kind of proud that I got that far lore-wise in maybe 2 hours tops, though I do admit that I completely leaned on a Tumblr post (which I should find so I can credit whoever is responsible for that writing prompt) about what if everyone has superpowers, but they had to be unique so yours is probably not very useful, as a total jumping off point.) It's also probably because it's been a while since I wrote it and seeing it again I found myself kind of like, 'oh that could actually be interesting to actually do something with.' and usually when I find old stuff like that I'm just like 'why did the me of whenever I coughed this out think this was good?'

So anyway the character (and of course, I chose not super-hero, not super-villain, but secret third thing, super-cynical-and-super-tired-of-everyone's-bullshit-mercenary+powers) monologue which can now only be disappointing because the lead in is too long.

___________________________________________________

They call me Hiniku Kijo.

This world is one where, sure everyone has a super power, but since only one person at a time can have any given power, most people have lame ones and society is stratified by the perceived value of the one you ‘inherit’.

I used to be one of the ‘good guys’, using my ability to read any enemy’s next planned move by merely looking at them to advise troops in the war on ‘evil’.

But then, someone tried to kill me with a cursed dagger for my powers. I lost an eye, and they got to ‘inherit’ my ability, which was obviously not that reliable in hindsight given the whole assassination thing I walked right into. But, I gained the ability to pass freely between the underworld and our world and to see with a glance the most efficient way to destroy a foe. 

As for the ‘good guys’? Well, my would-be assassin is their golden boy. And I’m not interested in swearing up with that bunch of overcompensating ego-maniacs in the villain league. So I guess that makes me… a free agent, out to put an end to them both.  

[mjae]

The theme of the year is "Restoration"

I had trouble sleeping last night. My brain was buzzing even well past midnight. Recently, I noticed that I get sleepy earlier in the evening. It didn't happen last night. I have no idea why it happened, but it was probably because of the things that were churning in my head.

Or just the energy drink I had to stay awake for New Year's!

I know it's been a few days, but still...

Well, whatever it was, I did eventually just fall asleep. I don't know what time it was, but it was probably from sheer exhaustion.

All that said, I really just wanted to get started on writing again...

So, here we are.

It's 2023!

Welcome to another start in my periodic quest to write every day!

Like I said in the title, the theme of the year is restoration.

The pandemic did all sorts of different things for all sorts of different people.

Taylor Swift was really productive and produced two albums in one year during this time. Made all of us look plenty lazy. Me, included.

Instead of being more productive, I got less productive. The pandemic restricted a lot of activity, most of them things that we took for granted and expected to simply be able to do every day without question or thought.

Now that I think about it, I couldn't adjust very well. It didn't help that I started a new job in 2021: a part-time instructor at a local uni.

That was when I got way less productive.

Well, technically, I was productive in the area of being an instructor, but not in the things I usually do.

Last year, 2022, the pandemic started waning for real. There's still cases today, of course, but it's not something we are not too alarmed about anymore. It's probably gonna stick with us forever now. Like regular coughs and colds. It's now another one of those diseases that we could possibly get just anytime.

So, hopefully, 2023 will be a good year for me to start try and get back to those old things.

This is where the restoration part comes in.

The first step was to find and use a tracking app. I found a habit tracker called Timecap. Seems decent, so I'm using that.

Here are a couple of things I am simply tracking:

Play I'm tracking this because, even without the recaps from my various apps and platforms, I know I played way less than I used to. Probably comes with the territory of having more work, but I want to change that.

Read Unfortunately, I also read way less last year. Goodreads says I only read 12 books last year. That's barely an average of one book a month. Definitely not a good look, especially with a record of 26 in 2021 and 43 in 2020. Yes, it's been a downhill ride. I hope to change that this year and finish well over 12 this time.

I'm tracking them so I can see how much time I'm spending on them. Or, how little.

A couple of things I am building:

Exercise Before the pandemic, I was cycling practically every day. The lockdowns and the quarantines did not do me a favor when it came to exercise. I ended up doing this way less until I couldn't anymore. I did have a period with the boxing app on my Switch, but I couldn't stick with it either. I want to try again. Although... I did not have a good start with this one today. I woke up to something terrible, so I couldn't get started. Probably just an excuse, but we'll see.

Learn Japanese Another one of those things that got disrupted. I had a really nice streak and it was going so well, until a period of disruption upset my progress. I've had to reset maybe twice now. I'm wondering now whether I should reset again, but that's another thing we'll see.

Write This one I seem to be having a good start on. I don't know how long it will last this time, but I hope longer. There's a routine change coming at the start of next week, though, so that's something that does not bode well for this. Still, gotta start somehow, right?

An aside... Like I always do when I want to start writing again, I got hung up for a good time on where to write. It's a good thing I already had something in mind: since we're talking about restoration I thought to use one of my old blogs. I had something in mind, but I was misremembering it. It didn't look like I thought it did. So, I spent some time looking at these old spaces. This old Tumblr blog is it this time. The last post is actually from January 2nd, 2022. It's not even an actual post, just a share from Instagram. The last real post is from August 23rd, 2019 - one of my sort of rants about Descendants 3. So, it's been over three years...

In another note, I also wanted to change the theme. I almost got stuck on that again, but I realized what I was doing, so I got to stop myself and just picked the top result: Tumblr Official.

No qualms, no thinking too hard. Any space will do, so just get on with it!

Now, I don't have a good record with these habit tracking things. I get tired of them after a while. The longest I've gone is probably just a couple of weeks. Hope it will be different this time.

Here's to 2023 🎉

[redactedverse-thoughts]

Today's thoughts- Darlin and David

Angst. Because.

So... At some point, cant remember where or who, someone raised the headcanon that Darlin leaves voicemail on Gabe's number still, and David has access to the number and sometimes listen to it.

And there were discussions of Darlin often leaving voicemails of what they're doing, sort of like a journal. And David’s blood vessel bursting as he hears about all the hare brained things they’ve been up to. 

And it was a really fun idea to think about. If you know who came up with this please let me know.

Edit- it was @dolls-circus!

Consider:

David finally gets a breather from having to deal with paperwork on Darlin's behalf since he's the closest thing to next of kin they have, and he needs to sign off on paperwork from the department regarding Darlin's fight with Quinn.

He checks Gabe's voicemail for a moment, perhaps just for the sake of it, or to refresh his memory about the situation between Darlin and Quinn. That's when he notices a new message he's never seen before. He checks the date and time, and... He could feel his blood go cold.

With slightly shaking hands, he plays the message. And immediately a familiar voice fills the air.

"Heyyyy Gabe. So... Good news."

There it was. Their voice, clear as day. Conflicting emotions welled up in him as his finger hovered over the pause button. Should he be listening to this? But he lets the recorded message keep playing. 

"I got him, finally. Quinn. I got him. He won't be able to hurt anyone anymore." There was a giddy tone to the voice before it stopped to release a serious of wheezing, wet coughs, the kind that would shake your whole body. David cringed, half begging them to stop, to conserve their energy, half begging for them to continue, to keep talking. 

When the voice recovered enough to speak again, he could hear the slight strain in their voice. "I... I finally got him, after hunting him for so long. And... And I killed him. Ripped his throat right out. I won't lie, it was... It was kind of satisfying. Bet I looked badass too, but too bad no one was around to see it." What was first a wet chuckle, soon turned into more coughing.

Dread momentarily seizes his body as he listens to the person on the other end choke up half a lung. He seems to have made up his mind as he pleads for the voice to keep going.

"He's... He's dead, Gabe. I did it. He's finally dead. And... I still don’t know if I did the right thing." Heavy breathing while the voice seems to mull something over. "David is going to freak. He's going to rip me a new one for this. Yeah, I know I know. I shouldn't have done it alone. I should have gotten backup. I’m so reckless, blah blah, but when I got the tip I didn't have time to wait for anyone. If I didn't go right there and then, he'd run. I did what I have to. And look! It paid off! I got him didn’t I?"

They weren't wrong. David did 'freak', as they so eloquently put it.

He didn't ‘rip them a new one’ though.

He wished he could.

Despite this, the sides of David’s mouth started angling upwards, even though his expression only grows sadder. They were an idiot... yet, it was comforting to hear them sound so... like themselves. 

"Oh god... Not just David, too. Sam is going to lecture me into the next year. I'm never going to hear the end of it. Do you know how much Sam can go on and on? Why do the people around me like to chid so much?” Probably because you do so many stupid things, David scoffed. He wished he could take them by the shoulders and shake them. What were they thinking?

“He calls me darlin.” The soft, awed affection in their voice did not go unnoticed by the alpha, but it was so strange and foreign a sound from them that he didn’t really know what he was hearing. 

Sam didn't chid them. He didn't get the chance to either.

“He reminds me of you, a little I guess. I wonder what you would have thought of him. I think you’d have liked him.” 

They sighed.

"I... I know... I know they lecture cause they’re concerned, Gabe. I probably complain about it more than I should but... They’re good to me. I appreciate that.”

For a while after that there was just breathing. David thought maybe that was it, and was about to click off when the voice spoke again.

“The pack... the pack you left behind, they’re in good hands. David's a good alpha. I know I complain about him a lot... Especially to you, Gabe. But... He's a good alpha. He takes care of his pack. Us. When it comes down to it... I’m glad he’s my alpha too. He still misses you, you know."

That was... Unexpected to hear... But a pleasant surprise. David's eyes started to mist as the words sink in. A vote of confidence from the unlikeliest of places, a voice he never thought he would ever hear sing his praises. It caught him off guard.

“And everyone else too... everyone is all grown up. Grown up together. The pack misses you.”

"I... I miss you too... But... Probably not for much longer. Oh god, are you going to lecture me? David and Sam won’t be able to, will you be doing it on their behalf? Mercy, dad. Please have mercy on my soul." Another chuckle, although this one was much weaker, and it took far more wheezing for the other end to catch their breath again. A loud clattering noise caused David to hold the phone further from his ear with a start. When the voice spoke again, their voice sounded more distant. David guessed their phone had fallen. 

Their phone was found right beside their head when he arrived on scene. He could see their lifeless, still body in his mind. A familiar face, marred nearly unrecognisable. 

"I... I don’t want to die, dad. There’s... a lot I wanted to do. Quinn, he.. and... Sam, I wanted to..  But... but life doesn’t always do what we want, does it? That’s what you always said. Take it in stride!”

He doesn’t miss the way they were starting to ramble either. They were starting to lose cohesion. He starts to mentally prepare himself for what he already knew was coming.

“Would you be proud of what I’ve done?”

Their voice, soft... barely holding on. It was vulnerable, raspy. David was seized with a frustratingly helpless as he listened. He couldn’t be there. All he could do was listen.

“I’ll be seeing you soon.”

The rest of the recording was silence, punctuated only by a soft breathing that was growing weaker at an alarming rate, until it finally faded into permanent silence that lasted the rest of the long voicemail. David was clutching the phone with white knuckles, silent tears trailing down his face, willing for their voice to come through the receiver again.

That can’t be it. That can’t be the end. There had to be more. He wasn’t ready for it to be the end.

Eventually, the voicemail, too, ends, leaving David without even the static noise of a recording playing. Their phone must have turned off after a while, finally ending the recording.

After all, Tank’s phone was dead when he got to the scene.

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (11/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: you know what's coming - the truth.

Warnings: angst, minor violence

Word Count: 2k

A/N: i listened to my favorite saddest songs while writing. be prepared. thanks for your kind feedback! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

JJ snaps you out of your thoughts. There's an expression on her face that you can't find the words for. "Y/N? What does she mean?"

You have to swallow. Your throat is tight and you can barely breathe, so you cling to her to keep from sinking to the floor. You can't take your eyes off the two in the interrogation room.

"What deal?" Spencer sits up straighter than he already does. His whole body is tense.

Cat shakes her head. "I thought you weren't here to talk about her or you."

When Spencer slaps the table with his palm, she doesn't even flinch. You do, the harder, and JJ's hands clench into fists. But you only notice this out of the corner of your eye. "What deal, Cat?" His tone is harsh, leaving no room for Cat's games.

She sighs. "Maybe you should ask her yourself. After all, she did come here with you, didn't she? I don't think she'd skip this dance." Cat looks past Spencer to the one-way mirror, straight through it, as if she knows you'd be standing right there. Her grin is crooked and ugly. "Come on, Y/N. You should know I don't bite. Not without notice, anyway."

You feel JJ's gaze on you as you enter the interrogation room without a word. You close the door behind you and out of the corner of your eye you notice Spencer looking at you. But your gaze is fixed straight on Cat. You stop right at the door.

"It's good to see you again, Y/N."

You don't have to be a mind reader to know what's going on in Spencer's head. It's practically written all over his face. Again?

"Hi, Cat," you reply curtly. You feel like shooting her.

"I always knew you lived dangerously. But I didn't think you were stupid. Yet you were the smartest one on your team. No offense, Spencie." She says it like she's bored out of her mind, not like the whole situation could completely escalate in the next second. Spencer tries not to let on, but you can read the confusion on his face. "I guess I was wrong about that."

"What are you talking about?" you ask, involuntarily taking a step forward. Cat takes it as a sign to keep talking.

"I know you killed my partner in crime. Must have been quite a mess, I'm told. Shot right through the head. Kudos, Y/N. I knew you were smart, but you're also badass. Who would have thought." She raises her hand and inspects her filthy and chewed fingernails. Her gaze drifts to you without her moving her head. She looks at you through her eyelashes, which makes her look crazy. "Quite a pity about him. But he was really just my accomplice's boyfriend. So, not worth mentioning."

Accomplice? Boyfriend?

It only takes a brief moment for everything to come together in your head. Apparently, all emotion falls from your face, because Cat looks extremely pleased. "You didn't play by the rules, Y/N. And now someone else has to pay for it."

In three steps, you've crossed the room and pulled Cat from her chair. Before Spencer can stop you, you push her full force against the nearest wall, causing a gasp to escape her mouth. You press your forearm against her throat and she lets out a hoarse laugh. Her gaze mirrors yours. Fierce and unyielding. The pressure on her throat intensifies and she has to cough.

You feel big hands on your shoulders, yanking you back so that you stagger and bump into the table. For a brief moment, you want to fight back as you leap forward again to put a stop to Cat once and for all, but Spencer extends his arm to allow some distance between you. You don't look at him. Out of anger and out of shame, because this isn't you.

"What's going on here?", he finally asks when you've pulled yourself together a bit and he's sure you won't kill her the next chance you get. "What's she talking about, Y/N?"

Cat's look is challenging and you know full well she's not going to say anything. She's dropped the bomb and now it's up to you to make sure the explosion isn't too devastating. You look at Spencer and tears form in the corners of your eyes. There's no way to get around it. And he better hear it from you than from some crazy psychopath. You owe him that much.

"When you were arrested", you begin, hoping your voice doesn't sound as brittle as it does, "it was clear to me from the start that Scratch couldn't be responsible. When you were taken to Millburn Correctional Facility instead of protective custody, it should have been obvious to the others. It was no accident that they sent you there. It was too personal." You can barely look at him, which is why you stare at the floor. "It couldn't have been Scratch, but there was no one else who had a score to settle with you." Your gaze shifts to Cat, "Except for her.

I had no proof, nothing. But I was one hundred percent sure she had something to do with it. So I talked to Emily. She gave me the day off, and I came here." You suppress the urge to knead your hands, so you shove them into your pants pockets. Your gaze wanders back to the floor, though you'd like to look at Spencer. You want to know what's going on inside him, but you don't dare. "Cat denied having anything to do with it at first, but I didn't believe her. And then she made a deal."

"And that included?" asks Spencer. You have to swallow.

"She would get you out of jail, after all, she put you in there too. I knew you wouldn't make it through jail. And not because you were too weak, but because I knew there were some people there who wouldn't bat an eye to hurt a FBI agent like you. And I couldn't stand that, so I went for it." With each word, your voice grows quieter, though you try to sound as determined as possible. But the pain weighs you down and takes away your breath. You remember the visit then, and what it had cost you.

"And what did she want in return?" Spencer's eyes glisten as if tears have formed in them. He blinks once, and the shine disappears. "What the hell did she want, Y/N?"

You can't stop the tears streaming down your cheeks Your heart is beating fast, like it's about to jump out of your chest. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for what follows. "She - she wanted me to leave you. Cat knew that prison could never hurt you the way I would if I abandoned you. If I left, with no explanation and no goodbye."

Spencer's shoulders sink and his muscles are no longer stretched to breaking point. You don't dare look at him, so you stare at Cat, whose grin has actually widened. Psychopathic sadist.

"Actually, Y/N was never supposed to come back either", she continues the explanation, but Spencer continues to look at you. "That was the deal. You weren't supposed to tell anyone about this and never come back, but you didn't stick to that. You thought if you killed the guy and I continued to be in here, you could go back home and get on with your life." Her grin disappears and suddenly she looks incredibly bitter. "Very reckless, if you ask me. My birdie knows you're back home, and as a warning, she left you a trail of dead married men. Apparently you got the message, after all, you're here. That they are dead is all your fault, Y/N. Because you couldn't stay away from your beloved Spencer." She looks from you to Spencer. "It's tragic, isn't it? She loves you so much that she took on all that pain just so you could get out of jail. How incredibly selfless of her. And I'm pretty sure you weren't exactly kind to her when she returned, were you, Spencie?"

Spencer and you can't look at each other, so heavy is the pain on your shoulders. All the anger, despair, and confusion that had spread through you since you saw each other again gives way to an all-consuming feeling of pressure that you can't shake. The only thing that can give you both some comfort is the clarity that has been created. Spencer now knows what really went on, and you no longer have to keep secrets from him. But the matter is far from over.

You look to Cat, but can't find the words. She's won.

You leave the interrogation room without looking at Spencer or saying another word. What could you have possibly said? JJ looks at you with widened eyes as you rush past her. She has her cell phone to her ear, probably talking to Emily, but calls after you, but you don't stop. The air in the building is stuffy and you feel like you're choking on it. Your heart is racing and you feel sick. You just want to get out.

"Y/N." Spencer's voice forces you to stop. You stop so jerkily that you almost fall. When you turn to face him, he's standing right in front of you. His gaze is hard. He opens his mouth, but he doesn't know exactly what to say either.

"I can't, Spencer", you beat him to it. You want to turn and keep walking, but his hand curls around your arm. At the touch, you're struck by lightning.

"Don't you think we should talk about this?"

You should. Definitely. "She had the men killed because I returned", you whisper. "She killed them because I couldn't take it anymore. Because I wanted to be with you. It's all my fault, Spencer. And I'll take the consequences for that."

"So you're just going to leave? Without explanation and without goodbye?"

You don't want to leave, quite the opposite. You would love to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him and never let go. You want to tell him you love him, but you can't. "I can't stay, Spencer. If I did, she would kill more people. I can't be responsible for that. I'm sorry."

You turn away from him, but as you take a step forward, Spencer pulls you back, making you slam against his chest. Your hands settle on the soft fabric of his shirt as his settle on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. His expression has changed. There is deep sadness in his eyes and he tries to blink away the tears that have formed in the corners of his eyes, but they fall down his cheekbones. All at once, he looks so young. "Promise me you'll come back? Back to me?" One of his hands clasps both of yours, still resting on his chest. He holds them tightly, afraid of losing you again.

You smile weakly at him and tears come to your eyes too. Your smile is honest, but sad. "I will always come back to you."

- tags -

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[nincompoopydoo]

LOVE IS STRANGE

PAIRING: Poe Dameron x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k SUMMARY: The union of Ireca and Mohash may seem a typical cliche of love in comparison to your depressingly lonely state, but when a certain poster boy pilot emerges during the celebration, you wonder if love works in other underlying ways. A/N: I found this in my google docs, first written about a year ago. so, wohoo i present to you my first ever poe dameron content, i think? he's so charming and carelessly beautiful. please leave a comment and tell me what you think or what else you'll like to see from me 💖 gif by @john-seed from this gifst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, space swearing. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

Love is strange. Delicate yet fierce. So forceful that it manages to seep through the cracks created by bombs and gunfire of war. Unexpected at times, appearing out of nowhere. Yet, it’s beautiful because it brings those with beautiful hearts and minds together, entangled in the constant dance of intimacy and devotion.

It’s what Ireca and Mohash have.

Ireca was from the Logistic division, a mechanic herself and your colleague. She was to be married to her long-time lover, Mohash, a flight engineer for the Cobalt Squadron. As far as cliches go, wartime love falls along the lines of a romance cliche. Yet, war was all you’ve known. It’s what everyone has ever known. It’s common to develop some kind of a feeling other than the constant emotions during battle—fondness, the feeling of falling in love with someone. It’s truly what we stay alive for.

Maybe that’s why you hate it so much. The absence of the feeling that everyone describes as so fucking amazing that it completes you. You feel empty most of the time. It’s definitely the reason why you put all your effort into fixing things you can rather than complicated problems and issues that continue to reside in your mind, especially in the wake of midnight.

You find yourself sitting by the makeshift bar, tucked away from the crowd of friends and colleagues. There’s music playing, the sound of drums, and the seven-string hallikset reminds you of your brief visit to Naboo three cycles ago. You’re nursing a warm cup of something that tastes closer to acid water than alcohol.

Ireca emerges from the crowd with flowers in her braided hair. She approaches you with a bright smile and calls out your name wistfully. You shoot a strained smile her way, feeling the bags under your eyes weigh a little more. “What are you doing here all by yourself, huh?” she asks, leaning against the bar with a gentle pat on your shoulder.

“I’m just really tired. Last night was rough. Plus, I’m behind schedule.” you sighed heavily, running your fingers through your hair. She flashed you a smile of sympathy as you continued, “I’m sorry, Ireca. Don’t let me ruin your night. Go, have fun.”

She raises an eyebrow as you take another sip from your cup.

"Go. I'm sure you don't want to miss Mohash's special performance." You gesture to a drunk Mohash, who seemed to be searching for the woman. Ireca merely laughed. "Oh, it sure is going to be special." With a gentle touch to your back and wave, you watch her make her way into the swarm of bodies. You're left alone once again.

You’re still trying to figure out how Mohash even got hold of any sort of alcohol and managed to smuggle it into the base. Someone must have nicked it during one of the previous missions in the Mid Rim.

You rub your eyes, half-awake at this point; your cup is placed beside you as you rest your head against your folded arms on the table. Your mind is in a daze and incapable of irrational thought, deciding it would be best to just camp out here, by the makeshift bar, for the night. You were too tired to drag yourself all the way to your quarters, which felt like miles away, in the first place.

As sleep began to weigh heavy upon your eyelids, you suddenly felt a sharp tap on your shoulder. A soft groan escaped your lips as you shifted your head, still resting on your arms, just enough to peek at your sleep intruder.

It’s Poe Dameron. Commander and Black Leader. Incredibly talented, confident, and effortlessly handsome.

Ugh, you hate this guy.

Yet, you don’t feel so tired anymore.

“Are you drunk?” There’s amusement in his voice with a tinge of mockery. It made you realize the stun you were pulling. Classic Dameron. It was supposed to be a happy ceremony, but it was truly Ireca’s fault for manipulating you into coming tonight. Parties, events, and social gatherings were never right up your alley. You prefer spending time with machinery and your greasy hands.

Poe’s eyes are gleaming under the fluorescent lights, filled with concern, but you spot the smugness in his emerging smile. A flash of a thought, you kind of want to feel his lips on yours. The image immediately stings. You want to gag.

Poe is irritating, arrogant, and careless. Not charming. Nope, definitely not charming.

You straighten yourself, trying to shake off the burning image, shoving it to the back of your head. You lift your head, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on the heel of your hand. “You actually think I’ll even touch that bantha shit?”

Tearing your eyes away from Poe, you reach for your cup only to realize it was empty. He casts you a look. Your eyes shoot daggers with an extended pointer finger his way, “Don’t you dare say anything, flyboy.”

Poe raises his palms in defense, lips pursing. “Wasn’t going to.”

You catch a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, one hand discreetly reaching under his tawny leather jacket. Then, a bottle of Corellian whiskey emerges, shining under the lights of the Resistance hangar. Your face lights up at the recognition of the bottle, memories of your rare trips to Corellia, sharing whiskey drinks with your colleagues. It was the only planet you’d been to ever since you joined the Resistance.

You’ve only tasted Corellian whiskey once because of how expensive it is. You’ll happily get drunk to that in a heartbeat. Drink the worry and sorrow away with the lingering taste of frankly exorbitant whiskey.

Like a child with grabby hands, you reach for the bottle, but as your fingers brush his, Poe quickly lifts it to the air and away from you. He smacks your hand away. You whine, feeling a little lightheaded. The contents of the mysterious drink are starting to kick in.

What the blinkin' mradhe muck was in that drink?

“What do you want from me? It’s not like I have a drinking problem.”

He’s giving you that look like he’s judging you, but with a hint of amusement at the slight tug of the corner of his mouth. “You definitely have a drinking problem, but... i'll let you drink this on one condition.”

“For kriff’s sake,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, glancing away. “I’m not doing any weird wacky favors for you, Dameron.”

He scoffs, expression bewildered. “Hey, I don’t ask for weird wacky favors,” He articulates his words with a defensive tone, index finger stretched to your face. You simply smack it away as Poe clicks his tongue and continues to clarify his proposition. “All I’m asking is for you to fix my ship.”

Your wide-eyed gaze flies to him, shaking your head furiously. “Oh, no, no. No. Never in a million cycles. Never in a million millennials. Nuh-uh—”

“Hey, quit being dramatic. It’s a simple job.”

Your eyes grow even wider, voice raising. “A simple job? You fly that ship of yours like we have hundreds of spare ones. I’m not putting all my time and effort into fixing a lost cause.”

“But you haven’t even—”

“No. I’m not fixing your ship, and that’s final.”

Poe blinks and you’re back to fussing over your empty cup. The chatter of the crowd grows louder as a group of pilots of the Cobalt Squadron began rendering verses of an unknown traditional drinking song to your ears. You steal a look to only find Ireca and Mohash amidst a dance, tangled in each other's arms.

He eyes closely, noticing the turn of your lips, trained eyes deem melancholy. He knows the face of a loner very well—usually recruits with lost family and homes. They enlist in a mass community of freedom fighters for the restoration of good in the universe, and to finally feel a sense of familiarity and belonging. He doesn’t know much about you but he knows you don’t truly have anyone to depend on but yourself. It’s the reason why you’re constantly fierce.

Poe clears his throat, shifting closer to you as he watches the way you carry your gradual gaze to hold his. They then flit to the space between the two of you, raised eyebrows acknowledging the weird close proximity of his presence to yours.

“Look, you’re the best mechanic there ever was and probably ever will be. So, fix my ship, and you get to have this Corellian beauty. All of it.” He sways the bottle in the air, but you don’t look at it.

“You know, that’s bribery.”

“Yes, and it’s working.”

You scoff. “No, it isn’t.”

Poe laughs. “Yes, it is. I can see it in your eyes.”

Another scoff, you look fully aggravated. “How dense do you think I am?”

“Oh, very, but let’s not get into that.”

Bickering was the only language the two of you spoke fluently when you found yourselves tangled in a conversation with one another. Thrown insults were spoken lies—saying you hate each other when you know that isn’t true. Well, at least you don’t mean it and you hoped Poe didn’t either.

You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. For once, kindness and acceptance seem to be the easiest route.

A sigh passes your lips as you blink up to the ceiling, sending a silent prayer for blessings from the Maker above. “You’re right. I am dense. Truly dense. So, yeah. Okay. I’ll fix that stupid X-Wing of yours.”

Poe blinks, dumbfounded. “Wait, really?”

With a roll of your eyes, they meet his very own wide ones. “Yes, really. Only because you complimented me. Now, hand me that Corellian whiskey before I change my mind.”

He then makes a sound that resonates between a cough and a pleasantly surprised laugh, eyes crinkling with delight. Poe happily and absentmindedly passes the whiskey to you, still reacting like your agreement is some sort of object of ridicule in the best way possible.

“Wow—Maker, you have no idea what kind of trouble you’re saving me from. If the General ever found out—man, pfft. Thank you. Thank you so much—”

A swift and unexpected motion, he is reaching you, palms clasp and either side of your face, and plants a quick peck on the side of your left temple.

Poe isn’t thinking straight.

There you are, mid-swig, lips so close to the rim of the bottle with eyes so wide. You steal a steady glance at the pilot whose expression seems to reflect yours. His hands are still on your cheeks. He’s unbelievably close to you and he’s staring with that stupid look of his.

‘Maker, preserve me.’

A cheer erupts from the crowd from across the space and just like that, the moment is gone. Whatever the moment even was. His touch is no longer on yours and his gaze shifting away.

The tension, however, is still very present.

You finally take a swig of the whiskey, wanting to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. You hum at the stinging sensation on your tongue. You catch a glimpse of Poe from the corner of your eye who busies himself with tapping his fingers nervously against the surface of the bar.

Then, in an awkward motion, you stretch your arm to him, offering the drink.

A beat. His gaze shifts between you and your hand. When he finally gives in, a smile curves upon his lips, fingers brushing against yours. They’re delicate and you smile at him. It's small, but it makes his heart skip a beat and you wonder to yourself about the strangeness of love.

[theseptemberist]

For the WIP game, "Arcana Imperii", "untying ch 3", "Nyanakin pt 2: The Renyanaking", or "Spanky Spanky" please? I gave multiple options because the list was full of 👀 concepts and in case someone else already chose some of them. That said, please do not feel obligated to answer them all!

send me a WIP title from this list!

Thank you for the ask!! <3 If you follow my ao3 you'll know what the first two are. Spanky Spanky was my attempt at a fic that I still owe a friend from like. WAY too long ago and that I am probably going to throw away and redo because I don't like my idea lol. Nyanakin Pt 2 is a follow-up to my fic Lost Kitten with catboy Anakin and Obi-Wan hurt/comfort, playing with how cats will hover around their people if they're sick or injured.

Under the cut find a snippet of Nyanakin being cute, as well as a little bit of context and thirst from untying 3 that will probably end up being cut because I am trying to keep it short.

Yes, I am taking 50000 years to write untying 3 because I can't figure out how to keep it as concise as I want to. *palpatine voice* Ironic.

Nyanakin:

At least Anakin was begrudgingly allowing him to do paperwork from his bed, although he'd only acquiesced when Obi-Wan had pointed out how stressed he would be if he had to catch up on a whole week's worth when he was healthy. Still, Anakin had spent the day watching him intently and snatching away his datapad if it looked like he was frowning too much. It would have been extremely annoying had his concern not been so endearing. Obi-Wan was not used to being fussed over. The true extent of Anakin's solicitousness was revealed when Obi-Wan yawned and said something about how it was time for them both to get to sleep. "Sounds good!" Anakin, who'd been going over reports of his own at Obi-Wan's desk, got up and grabbed Obi-Wan's extra pillow. Obi-Wan watched, puzzled, as he fluffed it and placed it on the floor. "What are you doing?" "What does it look like?" Anakin laughed. "I'm going to sleep, like you said." "On the floor? You should go back to your bunk, Anakin. I'll be fine here." Anakin shook his head adamantly. "What if you need something in the middle of the night?" "Then I'll comm you, but you needn't sleep here! Really." "What's the matter? Scared I'm going to crawl in bed with you? I haven't done that since I was a youngling." Obi-Wan coughed and blushed lightly, hoping that Anakin wouldn't see. In fact, he was rather scared of that. Scared of what he might do, anyway. Because Anakin most definitely was not a youngling anymore... Obi-Wan shook his head. He couldn't think about that while Anakin was right there, sitting on his floor.... removing his tunic? "Fine." Obi-Wan said quickly. "You can stay, just... keep that on!" He must have imagined the flash of hurt in Anakin's eyes. "Not very comfortable for sleeping, but whatever you want." Anakin closed his tunic again and curled up on the floor, head to knees, his tail wrapped around himself. "Goodnight, Master." Obi-Wan sighed and turned out the light. Anakin sounded upset. He hoped he hadn't made things between them worse as a result of his own unspeakable attraction.

untying ch 3:

“Anakin?” He cracked open sandy eyes — and blinked, suddenly feeling turned over and shaken. Obi-Wan had exited the fresher in nothing but a towel slung low across his hips. His still-wet hair was slicked down against his neck, one lock dripping a trail of water to wind through auburn chest hair and cling to the cut of muscle that defined his abdomen. Anakin shook himself. “I— I must have fallen asleep,” he mumbled, shaping the words with a tongue that felt dry and clumsy. “You should go wash up too,” said Obi-Wan, moving a few feet to the bench where they’d set down their bags. “We still have Margrave Shule’s garden party to attend.” Anakin rolled his eyes, willing his heart to slow down. “Yes, Master.” He passed Obi-Wan on the way to the fresher. He was rummaging around in his things, presumably looking for his smallclothes, his broad, scarred back to Anakin. More water glistened on the freckle-dusted caps of his shoulders. “You feel unsettled, Padawan. Is everything alright?” Anakin swallowed. From this vantage point, he could see the contents of Obi-Wan’s bag— including the coiled bundle of rope sticking out from among his other things. “Fine. Maybe. I don’t know.” Obi-Wan turned to look at him, his eyes soft. “Do you need to meditate? I’m sorry we haven’t had time. We might later this evening— if you’d like.” Anakin chewed his lip and nodded slowly. They’d done that several times now, but he was still always hesitant to ask for it, worrying that it— that he— was too strange, too demanding. Too much. It was a relief to have Obi-Wan offer. Obi-Wan looked strangely relieved too, at his agreement. “Good. The Margrave gifted us with traditional attire— today seems as good a time as any to wear it.” He picked up a flat box from beside his bag and held it out. “They’ll be a sight more tolerable than our robes in this heat, at least." Anakin accepted the box and scuttled into the fresher, his face burning.

[rosachaotic]

Remember when i said Talbott and Cereza werent over? Yeah.

I promised yall i would write a continuation of this. For those dont remember that happend, here

Anyways enjoy the fanfic!

Warning: none?? Its more just angst then fluff.(but sorry for my bad english and wording im not very good at writing and I wrote this on mobile)

It's been two months and few days since the big argument Talbott and Cereza had on the hospital wings.

This all happened because Cereza tried to do all the investigation and take down R by herself, but of course that plan failed and it backfired on her very badly. She fought the wizard in white and almost died because of it, losing her consciousness after he ran away, fortunately she was found by Moody who was searching for her after her twin brother said she went missing and was taken to the hospital wings.

She was scolded for it of course, and after that her friends went to visit her. All of her friends were worried for her, especially her twin brother Michael who jumped into her hugging her tight, crying, not realizing her whole body was in pain before he quickly let her go.

After a long chat with her friends and twin brother Talbott got in but he didn't look happy, he asked for everyone to leave him and Cereza alone because he wanted to talk to her, everyone left confused to what was going on.

Outside people could hear both Talbott and Cereza arguing with each other, Talbott was disappointed that Cereza lied to everyone including him about not having any information that could be useful for Circle ot Khanna and that she did is by herself he thought she was dead she could have died because of her reckless decision, Cereza tried to explain herself by saying she thought what she was doing was the right because she wanted to protect everyone which didn't make Talbott feel any less worse but the opposite. Both kept arguing with each other until Talbott storms out of hospital wings not looking at his friend's faces who were waiting outside, Penny tried to stop him but he just ignored her and walked away, once everyone back inside to the hospital they saw Cereza holding back her tears but she did a very job at it once everyone was inside and started crying.

----

Cereza rarely saw Talbott after what happened, she only saw him on the classes they shared but even then he didn't even talk to her, she decided to let it be not wanting to bother Talbott and she thought that this was the end of their relationship. This broke her alot, the happy girl that was always smiling and giggling all the time wasn't there anymore, not only she felt bad for what she did but she thought she lost one of the people she loved the most.

That was until Cereza got a letter in the morning, Andre gave it to her and said "It's from Talbott." She quickly opened the letter and read the paper that said:

"We need to talk. Meet me after dinner in the courtyard."

-Talbott

She thanked Andre for the letter who nodded and said "I hope everything works out for you guys." And left, Cereza also hoped that things would work out but she couldn't help but feel anxious about it. What did he want to talk about after dinner? Why did it have to wait?

"Does he want to end our relationship once and for all?" Cereza thought all day, Cereza knew how to be patient but this waiting was killing her.

During dinner she barely ate anything, Rowen(M!Rowan) was trying to make her eat something but she couldn't.

"You have to eat something, you can't sleep with an empty stomach." Said Rowen, worried for his best friend trying to make her eat. He knew about the letter, Cereza told him about it and he knew how nervous and anxious she was because of it.

"I can't, this wait is killing me.'' Cereza said anxiously.

She then looked around, noticing that Talbott wasn't at the ravenclaw table or at any table of the other houses.

"Did you see Talbott walk in?" Asked Cereza, still looking around, Rowen shook his head.

"No, I didn't, I don't think he is coming for dinner today." Rowen took a bite of his food as he said that.

"Why? Do you know about something??"

"No, no, but...Penny said she didn't see all day, he didn't go to any of his classes." Cereza felt her heart drop, this wasn't like him, he would NEVER miss any class, if there was something Talbott was proud of himself is that he was an excellent student.

"This isn't like him…" Whispered Cereza."I cant, i have to go."

"Wha- B-But dinner time isn't over yet!"

"I'm sorry Rowen, but I have to go."

"...Okay, good luck Cere!"

Cereza nodded and left the great hall running, she opened the big door to the corridor and rushed past the students to the courtyard.

As she got outside she looked around.

There he was, sitting on the tree trunk looking at the stars just like he would when he waited for her for their dates.. Cereza sighed with relief knowing that Talbott was okay...or was he?

She took a deep breath and walked toward him, stopping right before him.

"Hey…" Talbott jumped at hearing Cereza's voice, he was probably so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear her walk in.

"Oh, Sorry I didn't hear you coming in…" Said Talbott awkwardly.

"Its okay…"

"..."

"Penny said she didn't see you all day, you also didn't come for dinner as well."

"I felt sick all day and I wasn't hungry."

"Oh...I'm sorry, I hope you're better now."

Silence took over, the only sound they heard was the cold night wind, making things kinda awkward. Until Talbott coughed and said

"Sit here with me." He tapped right next to him, Cereza then climbed the tree trunk and sat right next to him.

Again, the awkward silence.

Cereza then looked at the sky, it was a pretty starry night, she could see some shooting stars.

" The night is beautiful tonight isn't it?" Asked Talbott, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. It is beautiful."

"It reminds me of when we used to have our dates here, you would make wishes for the shooting stars."

"Stupid wishes, I know." Cereza giggled at her own stupid self.

"I never thought they were stupid." Said Talbott.

"Even the one where I wished for a giant puffskein?"

Cereza shook her head smiling a little bit and she also noticed Talbott was smiling a little as well, she missed seeing him smile, but they weren't there to watch the stars.

"Hey, if that's your wish, who am i to judge?

"Talbott-"

"Yeah?"

"Listen, I-I know you said you wanted to talk to me in your letter, but I want to say something first." Said Cereza nervously, while staring at the floor.

"...Go ahead."

She took a deep breath and then looked at his warm striking hazel, who met her golden eyes. Then she finally said:

"...I'm sorry."

"...Wha-"

"I'm sorry for what I did, Talbott. It was very dumb of me try to all of that on my own and it was and it was insensitive and bad of me not to tell you guys the information I had about R."

"Cereza-"

"I should have trusted you all to defend yourselves without my help, I shouldn't have lied to you guys about not finding anything."

"Cereza listen-"

"I shouldn't have done that, I could have died and i didn't thought about how you, my family and the rest of our friends would feel about it if I died, you were right when you said things wouldn't get any better if I-"

"CEREZA!"

Cereza jumped at Talbott who raised his voice at her, he gripped her shoulders and made her look at him, his eyes staring at her but he didn't look angry he looked sad.

"Just...listen to me please."

Cereza nodded and whispered "sorry" and let him talk.

"Look...after what happened, i couldn't stop thinking about that night on hospital wings. That night kept playing in my head over and over every time I went to bed...I felt awful"

"Huh-"

"I felt awful, Cereza. After I calmed down I realized what I just did and how I shouldn't have talked to you that way, but it was too late, I was already at my dorm and I couldn't bring myself to come back."

"..."

"I was ashamed."

"Is that the reason why you were avoiding me?"

Talbott nodded, he took a deep breath as if was holding himself to not cry.

"I thought you hated me."

"..."

"So I avoided you and everyone else as well, it was painful."

"Tal I-"

"I should have thought of your feelings, how were you feeling that made you do all of that yourself."

"...You had all the rights to react the way you did, it was a stupid and dangerous decision that I made."

"But I still shouldn't have said those things to you."

"..."

"I let my emotions take over me, my heart dropped when I saw Moody carrying you to the hospital wings....blood all over you and you unconscious and i thought i lost you..."

"..."

"When i heard you were alive, I was so happy and relieved...but when i heard about why you did that when I heard Michael talking to Moody I...I dont know what came over me, i was angry and disappointed"

"...I know-"

"Not only on you, but mostly on myself"

"..W-why? Why were you angry at yourself??"

"Because I thought I failed you, I couldn't protect you, I couldn't be there for you."

"But it wasn't your fault-"

"Let me finish..."

"..."

"But that doesn't excuse what I did, i didnt think about what you were feeling, how you were feeling. Your feelings that made you do this and your feelings after it...I called you selfish but I was even more selfish…"

"Tal…"

Cereza's hand went to Talbott's cheek, who jumped at her touch but then rested his face on her hand holding her hand even more close to his face. He closed his eyes while he felt her warmth on his skin again after so long.

"I'm sorry Cereza, I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for everything."

"I forgive you."

Talbott's eyes quickly opened as he looked at her, he was surprised but it also looked like a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders. She continued:

"But...do you forgive me as well?"

"Of course I do."

Cereza also felt as if a heavy weight was lifted off her shoulders as well, she smiled as she felt tears run down her face and she had to take off her glasses to clean it.

"I-I thought...I thought you called me to end everything between us." Said Cereza as she cried while she tried to clean her tears off her face. She was shaking a little and her breath was also shaky.

"I would never do that." He whispered. "If anything, I was more afraid of you wanting to break up with me."

Talbott got closer to her and hugged tight on to his body, catching her by surprise.

Cereza returned the tight hug, smiling while tears rolled down her face, Talbott also had tears rolling down his face who tried to hide by hiding his face on her shoulder but his shaky breath and the way he sniffed quietly gave it away he was crying. Cereza's hand went to Talbott's hair and was caressing his hair.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Whispered Talbott, not wanting to let her go.

"I thought the same thing…" Cereza whispered back, kissing his head.

Both of them stopped hugging each other as they cleaned their faces but still kept close, Talbott's hand travelled to Cereza's face and caressed her cheek, his hand was cold as always but Cereza never cared about that, she liked his touch.

They both stared at each other, they both knew it was awkward the way they stared at each other but they did not care, their gazes were filled with intense love.

Talbott kept his hand on Cereza's cheek and kissed her other cheek gently but his face didn't move away, in fact he kept face very close to hers moving only a little to her lips, their noses were touching each other and they could feel their heavy breaths, Cereza closed her eyes as she felt her heartbeat go very fast and her face was red, Talbott heart also felt like it was going to jump from his mouth and even his ears were dark red. He brushed his nose on to hers but then kissed her nose, he caressed her cheek once more smiling, Cereza then opened her eyes and saw his smile and smiled back at him. Both of them giving loving smiles at each other.

"I love you." Said Talbott.

Cereza's hand went to Talbott's face and to his cheek as well, as she sighed and smiled again.

"I love you too, meu amor.'

Talbott's smile grew as he heard again the loving way Cereza called him using her first language, while they didn't have their first kiss yet what matters is that they were both together again.

"Just promise to me that you will be more careful." Said Talbott.

Cereza nodded.

"I will...but, do you promise to never leave my side?" Asked Cereza, Talbott chuckled and said:

"I promise, my sunshine."

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 11: I'm Sorry (Written Chapter)

word count: 3.1k

The Mixtape: Thinking of you | CA, 1979

The music that pooled out of Onigiri Miya was anything but what you expected.  A small smile crept up onto your face - despite your best efforts - and with a featherlight touch, you crept into the restaurant, silently thanking the soft jazz for drowning out the creaks as you pushed the door open in search of a certain chef.

Osamu stood at the sink, hands working some leftover dishes from the work day. He hummed softly along to the music, and it surprised you just how nice  he sounded - how his deep hum complemented the honey voice that dripped through the speakers; rich, thick, and soft like velvet. You padded into the kitchen, clutching the wine and apron closer to your frame so as not to bump it on anything that could give you away, and allowed yourself a few minutes to listen and appreciate before ultimately ruining the moment.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Miya.” You brought a hand up to suppress a giggle as he stiffened and dropped the plate he had been washing with a loud clatter. Osamu bowed his head and cleared his throat, loud enough to drown out the music for a brief moment before it ultimately pervaded the kitchen once more. He grabbed the nearest towel to dry his hands before reaching for the remote, the music ceasing with a quick click. Once he turned around, your eyes immediately fell on the dusted pink that settled onto his cheeks, and you did your best to ignore the warmth that ignited in your chest at the sight.

"So, Etta James, huh?" Osamu coughed awkwardly, turning his attention back toward the sink to finish up the last few dishes that lingered in the basin.

"Ya know Etta James?" An affirming hum left your lips as you placed the bottle of wine and your apron on the island, eyes flitting over the rustic kitchen in search of wine glasses.

The kitchen was a decent size, the bright wooden counters and cabinets a stark contrast to the dark iron of the appliances, but it complemented each other and suited the space well. The soft ivory paint on the walls kept the overall area from being too loud compared to the rest of the restaurant, and you wondered if Kita was behind the greenery that added a lush, vibrant addition to the otherwise plain shop. Your eyes landed on a modest pile of cookbooks stored neatly in the corner, and you let out a huff of victory as you made your way over to the wine glasses that sat in a windowed cabinet above them.

"My parents were big fans, they've always had a funny fascination with America," you explained, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod. The two of you relished in the, for once, comfortable beats of silence that followed, and you were surprised when he - for a second time since you had met him - decided to be the one break it.

"My Ma used to have this busted up, old, mix tape that she would play every night when she made dinner. Got it at a flea market when she spent a semester abroad in California. She always talked about how she wished she could visit again." The fondness in his voice made your heart squeeze. You busied yourself, listening intently as you placed two wine glasses onto the counter and filled them generously. "Eventually the cassette broke from years of abuse, but I managed to find the songs and make her a playlist. She still listens to it, every night, and I guess I got so used to it that it feels almost...wrong, to cook without hearin' it in the background, even though I'm not home anymore." You slid one glass over to him and he raised a brow at it, a soft smile pointed your way.

"I think ya skimped me a bit," he joked, and you chuckled sheepishly, a hand coming to scratch the back of your neck.

"What can I say, I like my wine." He chuckles as you reach for the small remote. 

"You didn't have to stop it, you know. I love me some Etta," you said, and his smile widened ever so slightly as you pressed play, the smooth voice fluttering through the speakers once more, softer this time as you adjusted the volume. You lifted the wine glass to your lips, taking a tentative first sip. The second the bittersweet liquid hit your tongue, you closed your eyes and sighed into the familiarity. It flashed you back to Tokyo; the seemingly endless nights on the balcony with Tendou and Semi, your drunken laughter rivaling the music in volume as Semi sang along with fervor - but, really, does anyone sound good when they're nearly a bottle deep?

Reality slammed into you like a meteor, and you were instantly struck back into the present moment, meeting Osamu's eyes as he watched you curiously. You felt the warmth crawl up your neck from the embarrassment, and you cleared your throat in the hopes that you could divert his attention to literally anything else.

"So,  are you gonna teach me how to properly make some Onigiri tonight?" His eyes fell on the apron you brought, the one he gifted to you, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as his lips settled into a playful smirk.

"Who said anythin' about 'teach'? I said I'd show ya how I make it; I didn' say nothin' about teachin' ya."

"And miss out on learning how to make Onigiri Miya's signature dish? No way." Osamu scoffed as you grabbed your apron and began tying it around your waist. His arms folded in front of him, his lips a thin line. You couldn't tell if he was thinking or already disapproving.

"This was meant to be an apology, you know," he started, but you cut him off.

"I know! And what better apology than by helping me perfect my shaping?" The resigned sigh that followed meant a victory for you, the grin proof enough for both of you that you had won. "So, what are we making today?"

"I figured I'd keep it simple tonight. Ya like fatty tuna?" Of course you do.  Who doesn’t? "Great, let's get started then."

To be honest, you weren't expecting Osamu to be as patient with you as he was. Even though you were decently acquainted with the 'art form' that was Onigiri (as so eloquently and dramatically described by Osamu), you decided to entertain him and pretend to struggle with every step - over shredding the tuna, spilling the spices, adding too much mayo - in the minor hope that you could catch him stressed and maybe a bit frustrated - but to your somewhat disappointment, mostly pleasant surprise, every effort to get at least a furrowed brow or a groan was met with a warm smile, sometimes a breathy chuckle, and a strong pair of arms gently guiding you through the correct steps.

It was as equally frustrating as it was endearing.

"Now ya wanna dip yer hands into the dish of water I left on the side for ya, yeah, great, that's it - now grab a pinch of salt - not too much, just a pinch, and ya wanna rub it into yer hands to prep for the rice."

"What if I have a cut somewhere?"

"Do ya have a cut?"

"Well, not that I know of, but what if there's a cut I don't know about?"

"Well then I guess we'll find out soon, won' we?"

You huffed, but nonetheless pinched the tiny mountain of salt and collected a modest amount before tentatively rubbing it into your hands. Your shoulders were stiff the entire time, prepared for the sudden sting on the off chance the salt decided to acquaint itself with an unknown wound on your hand. You heard Osamu stifle a laugh, and your eyes met his as he smirked at your cautious form.

"Stop staring at me, focus on your own stupid rice ball." He laughed - loudly, beautifully - and you felt your hands tremble the slightest bit as you tried to put all of your focus on making a stupid, dumb triangle out of some stupid, dumb rice.

"Need some help?" You merely grumbled in response as the little bundle of rice and filling crumbled in your hands, despite your feeble attempts at shaping it. He set his own, perfectly shaped, onigiri aside and scooched over to you, his arms reaching around your form, chest pressed lightly against your back. "Yer pressing in too softly, so the rice isn't holding. Cup yer hands like this-" he cupped your hands within his own "-just like that. Now press a little firmer, like this." You were trying your best to pay attention to what he was showing you, you really were - but you couldn't help but marvel at how soft his hands were. You expected them to be rough; calloused from years of cooking, volleyball, and the handyman side hobby, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What kind of lotion did he use to make them feel so smooth? Probably some fancy homemade Aloe Vera lotion Kita made for him, you thought with a scoff.

This new revelation had also made you hyper aware that your hands were not, in fact, soft - countless burns, cuts, and other various acts of carelessness in the kitchen have given your hands a battle worn texture that no amount of hoity toity, all natural Aloe Vera would be able to soften up. He must have been cringing inside just having to touch the absolute burlap that is your haggard looking, stupid hands, oh god-

"Nice job, yer doin' great." The gentleness in his voice plucked you from your inner turmoil, effectively grounding you back to the task at hand. What was once a crumbling mess of rice and tuna now stood a beautifully crafted onigiri, the plump triangle nestled snuggly in between your hands. A gasp left you as you beamed at the finished product, and you whipped your head toward him, twisting slightly within his grip so you could face him properly.

It was then that you realized just how close he was to you.

Whatever words you had planned to say to him died in your throat as your brain tried to comprehend why the hell his face was so close to yours. Osamu seemed to be in a similar state of shock, eyes wide and mouth emulating a fish, opening and shutting when the words weren't coming to him. From the way your own mouth gaped, you imagined you shared a similar expression.

Simultaneously, almost comically, you separated yourselves and severed eye contact, Osamu finding something above you particularly interesting. What exactly, you weren't sure - you were too busy eyeing every minute detail of the remarkably plain tile flooring.

Like an awkward embrace from an old friend you never truly vibed with, the uncomfortable silence settled between you two once again.

It would have almost felt nostalgic, if you didn't hate it with a seething passion.

'And my arms need someone, someone to enfold'

The playful jazz number cut through the silence, and you mentally cursed Etta for clearly not reading the room - your arms were certainly not looking to enfold anybody at the moment, and you imagined it was likely that Osamu felt the same.

You spun back around toward your work station, a quick roll of your shoulders the only indication that you were gonna keep working, because you sure as shit didn't trust whatever would have come out of your mouth had you chosen to open it. Lucky for you, he seemed to get the hint and moved back toward his own work station, making quick work of shaping what he had left, while you continued to struggle, albeit far less than before.

Not a word had been uttered in the moments that followed, the music filling the awkward rift that split between you.

To be honest, you felt guilty that nearly every interaction between you two inevitably dissolved into a dense, unbearable tension; the once lighthearted mood suddenly cracked open like a fault line, the quiet settling between you like dust, and it always felt so thick that trying to bring the moment back its old, enlightened state seemed to take such an immense amount of effort - effort that neither one of you appeared to want to put forth.

You wondered if Osamu shared a similar sentiment.

While you finished up the last of your onigiri, you allowed your attention to flicker to Osamu as he eyed the leftover tuna filling with seemingly great interest, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You watched as he scooped the mess onto his finger, putting obvious effort into keeping it balanced as he brought the teetering pile to his lips. Right as he went to close his lips around his finger, the tiny mountain fell, smearing onto his chin and landing on the counter with the saddest little ‘splat’ you'd ever heard. The disappointment he exuded at his misfortune is what ultimately broke you, and you laughed - a bright, gleeful sound that dispelled the suffocating air in an instant, and made you feel like you could finally breathe again (which was ironic, considering how out of breath you were from the incessant giggles that sprung free with absolutely no regard for your lung capacity).

Your hand flew to your mouth in an (admittedly failed) attempt to stifle yourself, as well as possibly save the last shred of rapidly waning dignity Osamu was probably holding onto for dear life. You folded in on yourself, laughter bouncing off the restaurant floor and - again, probably - stabbing directly into Osamu's crumbling pride.

Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Osamu's loud, beautiful laugh cut through your own, and at the sight of his uncharacteristically bright smile, accompanied with the little smear of mayo on his chin, you realized that, maybe, probably, he was actually doing just fine; and that this - laughing with him - was something you'd never been given the chance to do before, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't something you wished you could do more often.

You hoped that, maybe, Osamu wanted that, too.

"So, I take it they didn't teach you how to make onigiri at your fancy schmancy culinary school?" He smiled as you bit back a groan. It was embarrassing, how ugly your onigiri looked next to his. Sure, you were joking about your incompetence in the beginning in the hopes to rile him up a little; but when it came to actually forming the balls, well - there's a reason the spite onigiri you made were small and round.

"You win this time, rice man." He boldly plucked one of your creations and plopped it onto his plate, while you opted for one of his. You knew yours were gonna have too much mayo and way too much seasoning, and you weren't about to subject yourself to that.

You took a bite out of the rice ball and audibly moaned - how is something so simple so delicious? He chuckled, lazy smile draped across his features as he watched you eat. The little sparkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you, and you felt a tiny tug on your heart at how excited he was that you were enjoying his food, even if he wasn't being outwardly showy about it like you tended to be.

"'This time'? Does that mean we're doing this again?" You reached for another one of his as you hummed to yourself.

"Hmm, maybe. Maybe I'll force you to bake me some macarons." You were kidding, of course - you wouldn't wish that upon even your worst enemies - but the way his eyes brightened and he agreed with a small but noticeable lilt to his voice had you wondering if maybe making macarons wouldn't be all that bad if you made them with him.

He bit into your onigiri, taking a far more generous bite than you would have, and you snickered at the obvious attempt to conceal the grimace he had involuntarily made upon swallowing. The way he tiptoed around his critique of your failure was incredibly endearing ("It's not bad, just...mayo-y." "You don't have to eat it, you know." "No no, you worked hard, I'm gonna eat it."), and you felt the first little crack form in the walls you had begun to keep up around him ever since the curry incident.

The longer you enjoyed the food, wine, and - surprisingly - company, the harder it became to ignore the guilt that had settled onto your heart earlier in the evening. What started off as a mere twinge had become a sizeable weight in your chest, growing each moment you spent with him that didn't make you want to launch him off the summit of Mount Fuji.

"I'm sorry," you said, quiet and out of the blue. He shot you a confused smile.

"Pretty sure that's my job right now," he pointed out, and you offered a meek chuckle in response.

"I shouldn't have sold the dessert onigiri. Seeing just how passionate you are makes me realize the gravity of what I did. My ego was a little bruised and instead of being an adult about it, I openly insulted you and Kita by making a mockery of your business. I took it too far, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sure it goes without saying, but I'm gonna stop making them so you don't have to worry anymore." He was quiet, staring at you in a way he hadn't before, and it made you feel far too exposed, playing with the rice crumbled on your plate as you waited for a reaction.

"I'm sorry, too. I only said those things because the idea of you expanding yer menu terrified me. Yer an amazin' chef, and I honestly think ya could run me out of business one day." His voice was soft, too; and you felt the crack grow considerably wider, your vulnerability peeking through pinched brows and hands that you couldn't seem to keep still. "I've always wanted to open up a location in Tokyo, and expand the menu. Onigiri made sense because it's always been a source of comfort, but as much as I love makin' em, there're others things I wanna make, too."

The air between you was...light. The weight that usually settled itself into your shoulder blades seemed to have dissipated, and you couldn't tell if it was the wine, the time, or Osamu. Maybe it was all three.

"I...I like it better when we don't hate each other," you said.

"I never hated you," he said.

"I never hated you either," you admitted.

"Does that mean we can stop pretending we do?" He looked you, and you saw hope.

You smiled.

"Yeah," you said. "We can."

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Fun facts -

Osamu listening to old 60′s love songs just did something to me ok, especially my girl Etta

Kita is 100% responsible for the plants 

Osamu’s mom kept the tape, even after it finally broke beyond repair. It reminds her of Osamu’s father, who she met that summer in Cali

he was another exchange student from Japan. They had a summer fling and inevitably said their goodbyes when the summer was over and he had to fly back home.

They ended up bumping into each other a year after she moved back - and fate has been a big theme for the Miya’s ever since. 

Osamu has always felt a little funny about it - it feels too convenient, and he doesn’t like the idea of not being in control of his own path.

He thought your ugly rice balls were disgusting, obviously, and he was sure to eat his own after the first one lmao

A/n - when you haven’t updated in so long you have to look at past chapters to remember how you formatted 😭. BUT ITS FINALLY DONEEEE, this chapter KICKED my ass oh my god but it feels so good to be finished and we’re finally moving into new territory~ I’m very excited for the next few chapters!! I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter, please don’t be afraid to shoot me messages if you have questions!! I have a LOT of behind the scenes content that doesn’t make it into the fic sometimes and I’m always eager to share 🤩✨💛

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