#the manuals can be an endearing thing to write about trust me

[firefl1ezz]

i just. hit s+ rank in splatoon and i never honestly thought this would happen?? am i cool now.. do i get to be a part of the s4? do i get to be watered down to my running joke all the time?

[elysianslove]

eHm can you pls write some fluffy iwaizumi mini hcs?

can i ever,,, ugh yes. suna’s version here! 

↬ when the two of you first started dating, iwaizumi didn’t kiss you for a very long time. at first it seemed like he was just hesitant, or being respectful, trying to let you set the pace for intimacy instead. he admitted later to you, though, that he hadn’t had his first kiss yet, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t sure about sharing it with you, it was more that he was so sure that he wanted you to be his first that he couldn’t afford any mess up. he was shy. to his relief, you didn’t rush him at all, and instead found different ways to show your affection to him. 

↬ which leads to my point of iwaizumi adoring cheek kisses. for a good couple of months, you still hadn’t shared your first kiss, so you resorted to similar displays of affection, like cheek kisses. he found himself so comfortable with the feel of you reaching up, leaning on his shoulder with both hands as you press a kiss to his cheek. it’s his favorite public display of affection. because of its significance (in relation to your respect towards him, and the fact that you’d gone out of your way to find different ways to show your affection), cheek kisses hold a special place in his heart. nothing makes his heart beat as fast as when you grab his jaw in a fit of happiness and press a long, wet kiss on his cheek. against all odds, it makes him smile a smile unlike any other, and the blush that taints his cheeks and spreads along his nose and to the tips of his ears is a gift on its own. 

↬ wait that reminds me!! iwaizumi cannot lie, like whatsoever. if it’s very, very necessary, like to protect his friends or to cover for them or to protect a surprise planned, then maybe. but otherwise, he’s very obvious. now it’s more obvious to people closer to him than others, because if you focus enough, his ears tend to twitch a little when he’s lying, and it’s literally the cutest thing ever. because he’ll have this very serious face on, trying to spew out a lie, and then his ears twitch and he’s done for. 

↬ iwaizumi is a really good gift giver, because no one pays attention the way he does. and even if he barely knows anything about the person, he somehow can pick out something they like very well. his gifts tend to be more sentimental, and when it comes to receiving, he’s so bad at — saying thank you? at receiving them? he just gets all red and fidgety and starts saying things like, “you really shouldn’t have,” and, “why would you spend your money on me?” please someone sugar mama/daddy him.

↬ it doesn’t matter if you can drive or not, iwaizumi will never ever let you. he insists on driving, no matter how tired he is. he always plays your favorite music, and he talks to you the whole ride. like he loves to have you leaning close to him on your elbow, chin tucked in your palm, and the two of you are just chatting. 

↬ which leads me to this: iwaizumi loves your voice. he can hear you talk for hours, genuinely. maybe it stems from the fact that he prefers to listen, but really, you can find him at any point in time, at any hour of the day, listening to you speak. he loves to come home to you and listen to you tell him about your day as you two eat, or calling you in the middle of the day just to check in on each other, or having you send him voice notes instead of text messages, or videos instead of pictures. he just loves to hear you, in general. it genuinely elicits this really warm feeling in his chest that he can never get enough of. 

↬ if you wear makeup often, iwaizumi loves to take it off for you. he spends a lot of time watching you when you’re both doing your nightly routines, so at some point, he just asks if he can do it for you instead. he wants to practice, he says, so that one day you can leave it completely up to him. he finds it so intimate, the vulnerability and trust of it all. he’s seen you without makeup, of course, and he thinks you’re really beautiful with and without it, but there’s nothing purer to his heart than the trust you put in him to let him take your makeup off for you. he’s really gentle at first, because there’s this irrational fear that he’s gonna hurt you somehow. if you wear fake lashes, he literally winces as he takes them off it’s adorable. but after he’s wiped it all off, and grabs a damp towel to wash off the excess and the residue, he just leans over and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose or to your lips and smiles softly. 

↬ iwaizumi is a sucker for the little domestic moments the two of you share. it literally might be his favorite thing ever. like the two of you washing the dishes together, you’re cleaning and he’s drying? or doing the laundry together? or cleaning up your messy room together, and each of you grab the ends of the blanket and lift it up to spread it over the mattress neatly? or grocery shopping together, with him trying to ignore the incredibly unhealthy choices you’ve decided to toss into the shopping cart? or him passing by your work as he comes home from his to take the two of you together? or renovating your home together, and you’re covered in paint and dust? or ordering breakfast as you lay in bed because you’re too lazy, and then eating said breakfast still in bed because you’re still lazy? or the way you walk into the bathroom while he showers to wash your face and brush your teeth and the two of you just talk? or the random pictures you send him throughout the day, maybe of a weird cloud or a pretty sunset, with a little smiley face after? or the way his family loves you, so much? the way his mother personally texts you to check in on you, to tell you to come over, to just catch up? because you’re a part of the family now? 

in conclusion, hajime wants to marry you. 

↬ he loves building things for you. like iwaizumi loves the way you just hand him the instruction manual exasperated, and he just sighs with a grin and sits by you. he’s so good at it too! and he always does it shirtless too. it’s mostly for your viewing pleasure :) 

↬ when you two go on vacation, iwaizumi’s  always setting rules like “we need to be up by 7 am to enjoy the day” and sets alarms and all, but sleeps through all of them. you end up the only one awake. he’s just on vacation mode <//3 

↬ always puts your phone in the charger if you forget before you sleep. 

↬ iwaizumi becomes cuddlier after he falls asleep. like he lets you cuddle up to him as you’re both falling asleep, but when you wake up before him, you literally won’t be able to get up, because he’s going to be half on top of you. and if you try to wake him up, he just sticks more to you. it’s so endearing, really it is, because he looks so adorable with his cheek squished to your chest like that, and his mouth slightly parted. not when it’s a battle between you and your bladder though </3

↬ loves wearing your thighs as ear muffs. like iwaizumi adores just having you lay there, and him coming around to lay between your legs, slinging them over his shoulders and locking your ankles. can literally lay there for hours. 

↬ if you ask for socks because your feet are cold, he’ll give you his. don’t ask him why he just does. 

↬ loves to hug you after a very long day. like he just groups you in his arms and holds you there as you go, “long day?” and he replies, “yeah.” then he asks, “long day?” and you go, “yeah.” and the two of you just stand there for a while, before he kisses the top of your head and leads the two of you to get into comfier clothes. 

↬ he prefers showering with you over baths, just cause he likes to get on his knees as you’re scrubbing at his hair and kissing your tummy. he doesn’t know why he loves it as much but he does, especially the way you laugh after. it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love baths as well, especially if he’s extremely tired. there is the issue of convincing him to get out, but just drain the water and watch the goosebumps raid his skin and he’ll leave. 

↬ loves it when you sit on his lap when you’re in public, especially in gatherings with a lot of his friends. he doesn’t do it out of possessiveness or jealousy, he just likes it when you’re so open and comfortable about everyone knowing you’re with him, as his partner and significant other. nothing having to do with insecurity either. he just loves it. loves the way you lean into him, and the way your waist feels against his hand, and the way you talk in slightly hushed tones to each other. 

↬ basically, when iwaizumi loves, he loves with his entire heart <3 

this literally made my entire day, i loved writing these so much. iwa has such a special place in my heart i love him so much <333 also i hope everyone enjoys these as well; love you all, mwah <333 

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

[msfcatlover]

Me: *rereads my old Portal fics*

Me: “Y’know, some of these are still pretty good! Maybe I should replay the games, and give writing these another shot...”

My brain, always ready with AUs and my latest hyperfixation: TMA crossover with Jon as Caroline, but he doesn’t lose himself in the upload process.

Me: “I... I don’t know if that would work...”

My brain, refusing to be derailed: His robot name could be “Self-aware Intelligent Machine Simulation.” SIMS for short.

Me: “That’s not a great robot name.”

My brain: No worse than “Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System.”

Me: “.......Fair.”

My brain: Testing is like statements; he doesn’t want to like it, but it’s addictive and eventually he kinda needs it to stay sane. He regularly gets in trouble for trying to make the tests less dangerous for the test subjects, because like... draining the acid out of the acid pit ruins the integrity or something.

My brain: It actually makes no difference, but obviously Jonah is Cave in this crossover. He’s researching immortality, and this is just one of the ways he keeps Jon under control.

Me: “Elias was his first attempt?”

My brain: Yeah, but it was just a brain transplant. Now he’s worried about the integrity of his brain itself, I mean, physically it’s getting pretty old. And it’s not like aging is fun anyway.

Me: “So, I assume Martin’s Chell then.”

My brain: Obviously.

Me: “Obviously. Where does everyone else fit?”

My brain: Daisy and Basira are trying to get the whole company shut down for horrible human rights violations, but are struggling to find evidence. They go undercover as test subjects, only to realize they’re in too deep and have to fight for survival.

My brain: Melanie’s a reporter, supposedly doing a profile on Jonah, but secretly investigating all the disappearances that keep happening amongst the staff. Georgie brought her in on the case when Jon stopped answering all calls.

Me: “Tim and Sasha?”

My brain: Scientists, were on the same team as Jon. Might get kicked down to test subjects for asking too many questions about his “transfer to the AI department.”

Me: “Wait. All of this is pre-fall-of-Aperture. Doesn’t that take a lot of the punch out of making Jon our GLaDOS equivalent?”

My brain: ..............................

My brain: Mid-fall-of-Aperture. Terribly understaffed, running out of money, the “AI department” is literally just Jon on the paperwork, Jonah’s desperately pushing the testing/experiments to figure out the limits of brain-uploading before he loses access to the equipment.

Me: “I don’t think that scans.”

My brain: Sure it does! What’s the testing in the games even for anyways? It’s all cognitive, the portal gun itself only gets used in a handful of different ways.

My brain: Now the testing is specifically there to stress Jon out and test the stability of his personality matrix; no point in uploading yourself if the first major issue you run into corrupts your code or causes a major error. It puts Jon through the wringer, even zapping him with viruses and stuff, to ensure the process works, because Jonah doesn’t have the time or supplies for more than one test subject.

Me: “......huh.”

My brain, getting more excited: Merge the Eye-pocalypse and Prentiss attacks! Some sort of biological agent gets loose in the facility, and Jon hacks the security system to try and stop it. Any hermetically sealed area of the facility gets locked down, and he gasses the rest of the facility to keep the contaminants from spreading.

My brain: But they’re underground and the ventilation system isn’t the best maintained, so he can’t risk letting anyone out for fear they’ll get poisoned too. Just has to wait for the gas to rise up out of the facility on its own.

Me: “OH! So from the perspective of everyone in the testing tracks, this AI has just gone completely rogue and taken over the facility, killing a whole bunch of people and trapping them inside!”

Me: “I bet Jonah’s office is basically a fortress, and he still has security access to cameras and intercom, so he just eggs them on. Because this is an insurance nightmare, he wants to upload himself ASAP, so Jonah tells them there’s a manual override procedure for SIMS, but he can’t do it alone. They need to get through the testing, reach the central control chamber, and help him deactivate SIMS before they’ll be able to leave the facility. But actually, he’s planning to delete Jon entirely and replace him in the mainframe!”

My brain: Like the bastard he is.

Me: “So now, everyone’s in this weird limbo of trying to figure out what to do and who to trust. I mean, obviously in the AI apocalypse you want to trust your fellow humans, and SIMS did just gas the whole facility and trapped them in the testing tracks, but on the other hand ‘Elias’ is a shady bastard and SIMS isn’t always that bad?”

Me: “Like, sure, it can be pushy about testing and you can’t expect a robot to be good at emotions, but sometimes it’ll do something like ask for a verbal check-in because they’ve been down there a while and that can be psychologically hard on most humans? Someone complains about food, and SIMS sounds almost genuine when apologizing for not having anything else that can be safely transported to the testing tracks at this time. Once, Martin found a corner away from the cameras to take a nap in, and he’d swear SIMS was actually panicking over not being able to find Martin when he woke up.”

My brain: Tim and Sasha make snide, tired jokes about Jon giving the damn thing all his social awkwardness, as well as his name and voice (for some god-awful, unknowable reason.) They don’t want to let SIMS endear itself to them, knowing it probably killed Jon.

Me: “No, no, knowing that it killed Jon. They absolutely ask at some point if Jon’s okay and are told that amongst the however-many living staff members that are left, Jonathan Sims is not amongst them. What else are they to assume, other than that Jon’s been gassed by his own creation?”

My brain: Oooh...

Me: “Martin’s the only one who actually feels endeared to SIMS by the time they meet up, partially because he’s the only one who was trapped alone. Tim and Sasha were together, and already have reason to hold a grudge. Daisy, Basira, and Melanie met up early and spend a lot of free time fantasizing about smashing the damn computer when they find it.”

Me: “Martin was alone and he hates it, so he tries talking to SIMS, and is a little surprised when SIMS talks back. They’re not always pleasant conversations, SIMS can be curt and doesn’t have much personal info to share (being a computer and all,) but Martin does start to get a grasp on the situation as it must have at least appeared to SIMS when he pulled the lockdown-tigger. And for a supposedly evil computer, SIMS can be surprisingly helpful and seems almost as upset by the situation as the humans are.”

My brain: And there was that odd moment after Martin convinced SIMS to stop calling him “Mr. Blackwood,” and SIMS seemed almost flustered before very softly responding, “...Martin, then.”

Me: “Awww... please tell me Jon’s not actually dead, I need them to take him with them at the end...”

My brain: Suspended animation. The brain is still a vital part of the machine, but it never ages or degrades thanks to whatever combo of chemicals and cryosleep Jonah used to preserve him. Part of Jonah’s “manual override” involves adding a high-powered hard drive or four to replace the need for an organic brain, making full digitization possible.

Me: “But where’s he stored? He can’t just be strung up in the middle of the machine, that’d be unsustainable and Jonah would never let anyone within a hundred yards of it lest they realize the truth! A cryotank in a fake computer bank? A stasis tube hidden amongst the wiring, which they could discover while clambering about installing the hard drives?”

My brain: A cold room disguised as a locked closet or something, with the upload chair still inside of it? Only Jonah has the passcode, technically, and he was planning to go in while everyone else had their own tasks to do, just shove Jon’s body out and plug himself in, leaving Jon to finally die on the floor just a short distance from his friends while Jonah replaced him in the machine, removed the safeties, and escaped into the internet?

Me: “Oh, and Jon gave them a universal override or something to get them out of a dangerous situation towards the end! It actually leaves half the group feeling pretty low, having the thing they’re trying to destroy just hand them the key to its destruction out of pure, innocent trust.”

Me: “Then while Jonah’s distracted giving out instructions, Martin (useless with computers,) wanders over and opens the door, letting out a gust of cold air with a hiss. Martin coughs on the escaping gasses, and Jonah rushes to say that the cold room is very delicate, and ought not to be tampered with by people who don’t know what they’re doing—“

My brain: —but Martin blinks back the stinging, shock-induced tears, eyes adjusting to the dark of the closet and gasps.

Me: “And Martin’s only ever seen Jon in passing, really, they never properly worked together. But he was a little sweet on him even back then, and he’s heard the stories from Tim and Sasha, and he’s spent the last several weeks getting to know SIMS...”

My brain: ...He quickly calls Tim and Sasha over to confirm, just in case he’s got it wrong somehow. They’re just as shocked that Jon’s in there, with all his notes tucked away behind him revealing what really happened. Jonah tries to talk his way out of it, but is quickly arrested by Basira and Daisy.

Me: “Sasha finishes the notes first and makes her way back out. She’s shaking, overwhelmed with rage and grief and horror, and punches ‘Elias’ so hard he falls to the floor.”

My brain: Jonah starts to say something about assault, but Melanie congratulates Sasha for stopping him and Basira, completely deadpan, adds, “We all saw him make a break for it.”

Me: “Jonah shuts the fuck up.”

My brain: Part of SIMS’ programming was not being allowed to answer to “Jon” anymore. He never outright denies being Jon, just corrects people that he is the Self-aware Intelligent Machine Simulation. Tim finishes the notes, makes it to the cold room door, looks into the nearest camera and shakily asks, “Jon?”

Me: “For the first time, there’s a solid three beat pause before the intercom answers, softly and less robotically than before, ‘...Yes, Tim?’”

My brain: Tim starts crying.

Me: “Of course he does! He’s been grieving Jon for weeks at this point, trying not to let it show just how sad and angry he was that it all ended like this, and now it turns out that not only is Jon alive, he never actually left them at all! All those months thinking Jon ghosted them, left them behind in R&D for greener pastures, and Jon was all-but-dead in a cold room the whole time, and none of them ever knew! The relief, the joy, the guilt, the lingering bitter grief and rage, it’s overwhelming. Who wouldn’t cry?”

My brain: It takes them a few days to figure out the download procedure to return Jon to his body, especially since Jonah can’t be trusted on this front. Tim and Sasha are the techies, and they recruit Melanie and Basira for extra hands. (Martin’s still terrible with machines, and Daisy needs to watch Jonah to make sure he doesn’t escape.)

My brain: Martin, feeling useless, stays by Jon’s side in the cold room.

Me: “When Jon wakes up, Martin’s the first thing he sees.”

My brain: Martin sees him moving, meets his eyes, and gasps, “Jon?” Jon nods and tries to say something, but his throat is dry and his voice won’t work. Martin scrambles to get him a glass of water and steadies Jon’s hands as he drinks it. When he lowers the glass, Martin cautiously asks if Jon’s feeling better.

Me: “Jon just smiles and answers, ‘You said my name.’”

My brain: Martin’s confused. “What else would I call you?”

Me: “Jon shakes his head. ‘I just... don’t think I’ve heard you say it before. Certainly not to me. It’s... nice.’”

My brain: Martin laughs helplessly and says it again. “Jon.” Jon’s smile brightens, and Martin can’t help stepping closer, repeating Jon’s name again. Jon laughs along.

Me: “It’s on instinct that Martin takes the empty glass and sets it to the side, leans over the chair, touches Jon’s shoulder, cups his cheek. He hesitates when they’re nose to nose, breathing the same air, shockingly warm even when Jon’s skin is still cold to the touch. He meets Jon’s eyes and swallows. ‘Is this okay?’”

My brain: Close enough to feel the small, inaudible gasp before Jon whispers, “Please.”

Me: “They only get one short kiss in before the door opens and Tim makes a scandalized noise before loudly declaring this unfair and blatant favoritism. Martin all but jumps away, but Jon just rolls his eyes and thanks Tim for saving him. As the others pile in —Sasha claiming she did all the work, Basira needing to know if Jon’s up for making an official statement, Melanie both needing to pass on a message from Georgie and wanting an exclusive interview for her expose— Martin can already feel himself fading into the background, even as he and Tim help Jon to his feet.”

My brain: At least until Jon lingers, fingers lightly resting against Martin’s arm, and looks up at him with hope in his eyes. “Later?”

Me: “Martin’s not entirely sure what Jon’s asking (Jon isn’t really either,) but he agrees anyway. He doesn’t even hesitate.”

My brain:

Me:

My brain:

Me:

My brain:

Me: “.....WELL FUCK.”

My brain, smug despite it being 4:30am: Told you it was a good idea.

Me: “I hate you so much.”

[kuzuhinasecretexchange]

Work Title: cryptic shells, orange juice, and candid talks

Author: @fieldofsunflowers8

For: @serpenteaus

Pairings/Characters: Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Hinata Hajime, No Additional Characters

Rating/Warnings: Teen Rated, No Content Warnings Apply

Prompt used: “postgame mundane shenanigans”

Author’s notes: hi! i apologize for this leaning towards the shorter side, but this was a lot of fun to write! i really hope you like it :D

Hinata swings around his cabin at the same time he always does, knocking and waiting patiently as Kuzuryuu heaves his ass out of bed.

  It’s a really minor routine, in truth. There’s nothing super interesting about that repetitiveness– coming around at 8 AM, walking with him to the dining hall, bantering with him over some toast while they talk to their other friends, and spending the rest of their day working on the island or just relaxing. It’s the same shit every day, the same shit they do unless it’s like, someone’s birthday or something, and it should probably bore Kuzuryuu at some point.

  It kind of doesn’t, though. In a sense that Kuzuryuu isn’t going to complain about seeing his boyfriend in the morning, or getting to vibe around the island with him, even if it’s similar to what they’ve always done. All of them find ways to keep things interesting– accidentally, like Komaeda, or on purpose, like Imposter– and the island always feels dynamic.

  They’ve been through a lot. Having a kind of stability, yet one that shifts according to what they want Jabberwock to be, is sort of relieving. Kuzuryuu rarely got that relief in the past, and he sure as hell isn’t going to pass it up now.

  Kuzuryuu makes his way over to the door, unlocking it. Hinata looks a bit more disheveled than usual, dark brown hair messy and growing a bit long, shirt half buttoned and his hands in his pockets, but he still gives Kuzuryuu a smile. “Hey,” Hinata says tiredly, “woke up late. How are you?”

  Well, that explains it. Hinata likes routine, too, on most days (and sometimes he hates the tedium of it, but hey, Kuzuryuu can accommodate that too). “I’m fine. Just got up ‘nd shit. Let me brush my teeth and, like, get dressed. Is it hot outside?”

  “Well, we’re on a tropical island,” Hinata deadpans, “so I would assume so. Bit cooler, since it’s November, but that’s how it always goes.” 

  Kuzuryuu nods, throwing open a dresser and changing into some shirt Hinata gave him a while back. Everyone on Jabberwock has a bad tendency to not remember who owns what clothes, so sometimes Komaeda shows up to lunch in Mioda’s skirt, or Koizumi ends up with Owari’s jacket, or Sonia nestles into Tanaka’s scarf. Nobody really minds, though– they’re all sort of a family, after all. 

  And, y’know. Kuzuryuu likes wearing Hinata’s clothes. Not that he would, like, outright admit that to him, but. Hinata has a nice scent of sandalwood and citrus, and Kuzuryuu thinks, as his boyfriend, he has the right to indulge in it. 

  ‘Course, Hinata still has to point it out smugly. “That’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

  Kuzuryuu gestures to the pattern on it– sunflowers, or something. Bit flashy, but Kuzuryuu can cut him some slack for it. It looks really nice on Hinata, either way, so. “Who else would have this shit?”

  “Maybe Komaeda,” Hinata suggests while Kuzuryuu opens the bathroom door, pulling out the green toothbrush (there’s a spare blue one, for Hinata, in case he stays over) and putting on some mint toothpaste. “He’s picked up gardening, hasn’t he?”

  “Him and Owari, yeah.” There’s a lull in the conversation, as he can’t exactly talk with toothpaste in his mouth, but he picks it up where he left off after he finishes. “Not sure how Owari got into it, actually, ‘cuz gardening never seemed to be her gig.”

  Hinata leans against the wall. “The food, probably. Even though Komaeda’s luck keeps fucking up the strawberries, according to Hanamura. I wouldn’t really know, I don’t swing by there much, y’know, but. Probably for that.” Kuzuryuu nods, sliding on some pants and picking up his phone. Hinata straightens, already moving to nudge the door open. “Ready to head out?”

  “Don’t know what else I’d be doing.” Hinata just snorts in lieu of a response, gesturing for Kuzuryuu to walk out first before closing the door behind them.

  Hinata’s right, it is a bit cooler. It’s a subtle kind of difference, one that comes from knowing the island like the back of his hand, being able to tell when a storm’s about to hit and give them a shit ton of rain, or when it’s about to be super fucking arid, enough to give at least one dumbass heatstroke (fucking Souda and his stupid ass machine work, in the middle of the sun, with metal, and no water, for hours, in the fucking sun). It comes with time, basically.

  And it’s sort of a neat thing. It should be boring, once again, but, eh. He likes it. 

  He thinks about that, sometimes.

  Then Hinata makes an awkward gesture in an attempt to subtly ask to hold Kuzuryuu’s hand, and he stops focusing on the weather and all that bullshit, and more on his stupidly endearing boyfriend. 

  Kuzuryuu intertwines their fingers and mumbles, “You can just ask to hold my hand, dipshit.”

  “You looked like you were thinking about something,” Hinata defends mildly. “So I didn’t want to, uh, just. Jar you straight out of that?” 

  It’s pretty considerate of him, Kuzuryuu considers, even though it’s kind of just inefficient, like the weird waffling they did when they first got together. Which is always really funny to think about in retrospect, because, like, the two of them have always been close. Back in the simulation, they got along decently well, and in the miserable months after waking up, the two of them would stay the night with each other all the time, doing scattered things across the island to distract themself, hugging each other when the days got shitty. 

  It only really made sense, then, that they had some kind of charisma between them back then. It only took everyone waking up and shit calming down, managing to get some kind of therapy across the shitty telephone lines that the Future Foundation got them, for them to even think about that shit. But, hey, they got there in the fucking end, with the help of the others, like, trying to get them past the yearning into an actual confession.

  (Kuzuryuu still remembers the humiliation of Souda and Komaeda– fucking Souda and Komaeda– being the ones that helped him talk to Hinata about it. Souda, who is the definition of running himself in circles, romantically speaking, and Komaeda, who wouldn’t know how to confess to someone normally if a walk-through manual slapped him in the fucking face.

  … Not that Hinata’s help was much better. Sonia and Tanaka were pushing for him to confess to Kuzuryuu with a fucking shell. Like, just a cool looking shell, that they thought would appeal to Kuzuryuu’s fiery energies, or something.

  Hinata still ended up giving Kuzuryuu the shell, for the record. But Kuzuryuu was a lot more invested in kissing his new boyfriend, at the time. It’s still… somewhere in his room. Just, as a little memory. Or something like that.)

  Hinata squeezes his hand again, and Kuzuryuu jolts back to reality. He laughs at himself a bit. “Sorry, I was just, like, thinking about the shitshow that was us trying to get together, all that time back.”

  He tilts his head, olive green eyes softening. “How come?”

  “Because you trying to hold my hand was awkward as hell.”

  The soft eyes are immediately hidden with an eye roll. “Fuck off.” 

  Kuzuryuu snorts, nudging him with his shoulder before they continue walking to the dining hall. “Seriously, though. That was such a fuckin’ week, wasn’t it? Hell, I still think about Komaeda looking me straight in the eyes and calling me an idiot.”

  “I’m still not entirely sure that one happened,” Hinata jokes. “Like. I know Komaeda is kind of… a lot, but the fact that he just called your ass out, then and there, is so much. Then again, Sonia called me a dense motherfucker, so.”

  “You are a dense motherfucker.”

  “I am not a dense motherfucker.” Kuzuryuu shoots him a look, and Hinata sighs. “Okay. Sometimes, I am a dense motherfucker. But I did know you liked me! I just can’t, uh, interpret half my emotions at any hour of the day.”

  The Kamukura effect, Kuzuryuu calls it in his head, but he doesn’t, like, verbally say that. Not that it would be an issue– Kuzuryuu is kind of adjusted to Kamukura suddenly fronting, and the two of them get along decently well, but. Y’know. It’s just kind of a weird thing to say, he thinks. “Yeah, I mean, that’s fair. We were still pretty fresh out of everything, I can imagine you had more going on.”

  “Yeah.” 

  Kuzuryuu shoots Hinata a look, taking in the slightly pensive expression, before impulsively standing on his toes to kiss his cheek. His face erupts in a blush, because Hinata isn’t the most accustomed to physical touch, still, and Kuzuryuu takes the chance to say, “You aren’t stupid, though. You’re, like, really fuckin’ smart. And I get it. We all do.” 

  Hinata glances away in some failed attempt to hide his expression. “Thanks,” he mumbles, but he squeezes Kuzuryuu’s hand, so. He knows that the other gets what he’s getting at. He’s just flustered, sort of adorably, but Kuzuryuu would never admit that. He is not a sap.

  (Well. Hinata’s eyes sometimes remind him of the times long ago, back at home, where it was sunny and he felt sort of okay, actually. And he has nice hair, y’know, falling into his eyes but nice to touch. And he’s nice, like, a real sweet guy with a closed off heart that you can still sort of trust. And he reminds Kuzuryuu of the sunshine, just, entirely. 

  … So maybe a little bit, but, hey. One of them has to maintain the romantic coherency around here, and if they have to pass the baton of sentiment, so be it.)

  “You’re contemplative today,” Hinata remarks.

  “You spend half your time brooding and getting lost in thought, and you’re getting on my ass?”

  Hinata laughs, which makes Kuzuryuu’s scowl soften. “Fair enough. Sorry.”

  “You’re fine.” Kuzuryuu sighs. “Just. Thinking about us, again.”

  “That’s, uh, pretty sweet of you. Or just really, really sappy, I guess.”

  “Shut the literal fuck up.”

  “It wasn’t an insult.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They’re at the dining hall, now. As Hinata opens the door for them, the sound of the others becomes pretty apparent. Hanamura in the kitchen as usual, Tanaka and Souda’s voices distinct amidst the sound of everyone eating. There’s probably a few people missing– Komaeda and Owari come to mind, since Owari eats food unreasonably early sometimes, and Komaeda tends to show up when fewer people are there– but, since Hinata and Kuzuryuu got up sort of late, the rest are probably there.

  It’s… nice. Another one of those expected things, mundane as all hell and probably boring to literally anybody else, but Kuzuryuu likes it. Likes the way things flow, likes the routine, likes it all. Even when it’s, yeah, sometimes decently repetitive. 

  Hinata gets the door for them again– chivalrous dumbass– and Sonia immediately issues them a, “Good morning, Hinata-san, Kuzuryuu-san.”

  “What’s up.” Kuzuryuu lets go of Hinata’s hand to go and grab some food, his boyfriend engaging in an actual conversation with Sonia and Nidai. Kuzuryuu would like to later, no shit, but he’s hungry and Hanamura’s food calls to him. He gets himself some orange juice (that Hinata will probably steal from him, prompting an aghast orange juice and coffee, at once, are you fuckin’ serious? but, eh. Better than grabbing, like, milk or something). He also grabs some food, toast with some kind of spread Hanamura would give them the details of, before taking a seat.

  Souda slides across him, leaving whatever conversation he had been having with Tanaka to the wind. “Hey there, soul bro! How we vibing?”

  “Fine.” Kuzuryuu says with a shrug, instinctually scooting over as Hinata sits next to him.

  Souda gets out another, “Soul bro number two! How are you?”

  “Doing fine, Souda,” Hinata steals Kuzuryuu’s juice from the get go, so he kicks him under the table. Hinata stifles a laugh. “Tanaka’s giving you a death stare, though.”

  “Ugh, dammit. Prick’s been getting on me over crystals, or some shit.” Souda gets out of the chair, already walking back over to probably start another argument with no other pretense. It’s early enough in the morning that Kuzuryuu doesn’t second guess the weird interaction, though Souda has a tendency to start and end conversations in the worst, most abrupt way.

  He’s off, watching Souda and Tanaka go at each other while Koizumi sits tiredly near them, looking as if she’s debating whether to interfere or leave before Tanaka throws out an archaic insult, when Hinata moves to grab his hand and squeeze it. Kuzuryuu turns to look back at him, eyebrow raised. “What’s up?”

  “Uh, nothing, really,” Hinata replies, and Kuzuryuu almost looks away again before he blurts out, “I love you.”

  Kuzuryuu flushes, trying to roll his eyes to counteract it, but the awkwardly fond expression on Hinata’s face gives the impression that his plan didn’t work. Still, he keeps his voice casual (if not a bit softer, dammit Hinata, fucking contagious sentimental hours) as he replies, “Love you too, dipshit. Give me back my fuckin’ juice.”

  “Of course.” Hinata takes one more swig before giving it back, and it’s almost a quarter empty, so maybe Kuzuryuu should have let the bastard keep it, but, eh. He’s too busy focusing on the I love you thing, which they’ve said fairly often throughout their relationship, but, still. He used to think– and Hinata must have, too– that it needed to be saved for big occasions, like birthdays or anniversaries or the days that come particularly rough. But, Kuzuryuu thinks that they’re worth hearing any day, even the particular slow ones, like these.

  Later, they’ll probably go off to work around the island, separate for a bit to apply their talents wherever needed. Kuzuryuu will talk to his friends, hang out with Pekoyama a bit as she trains, and probably spend too much time contemplating to be productive.

  But, it’s still a nice day. Slow, and a bit chilly comparatively, but a nice day.

  And, hey. He can roll with that, he thinks. That they’ve earned their share of peaceful days after everything.

  He shoots a glance over at Hinata while he’s eating. His face is neutral as he fiddles with his sleeve and thinks about something, either entirely random (like the light fixtures, or something), or a topic a bit more serious that he might bring up to Kuzuryuu later. He’s come a long way, in being open with that, but also with just… everything. Both of them have. Hell, the reason they could get together was that growth, getting through it all, that bullshit. All of that shit, to get here.

  And, to be honest? Despite all the shit they went through, the shit that Kuzuryuu wished they didn’t have to go through, wouldn’t have gone through again no matter what…

  … he’s pretty fucking happy that the two of them are here.

  Together.

[ddproductionsw77]

At The Kissing Bridge

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak)

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier and (Mentioned) the rest of the Losers

Rating: T (Strong language)

Description: Richie takes Eddie to the Kissing Bridge to show him something to ease his doubts about the future.

Author’s Note: So, this kind of just came to me while I was working on another one shot for the Losers and I just went with it. I hope you like it and I apologize to the people who’s requests I have yet to get to for my easily distracted brain. 

Oh QUICK QUESTION: Would you guys be interested in me writing up some of my headcanons for the Losers and the Next Generation Losers?

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A warm summer breeze swept across the tall grasses of the Hanlon property, causing Eddie to pull the hoodie he was wearing, which did not belong to him, closer.

It felt odd, he reflected, looking over his shoulder at the barn glowing from dozens of strings of lights hung carefully across all the rafters by himself and Beverly. Mike had provided the space, Bill’s parents the decorations, he and Beverly the manual labor.

It was odd to know it was the end of something important. To feel like you were standing at a precipice, knowing the only way forward with straight down into something entirely unknown. He had to admit that, sure, high school hadn’t exactly been all rainbows and sunshine but it had been a devil that he’d grown familiar with. College... the future... that was an entirely new monster.

Biting his lip and running his thumb over the raised scar on his palm in the hoodie pocket, Eddie reminded himself that, compared to his past, the future could only get easier. Anything would be better than some of the terrors lurking in his past.

Still, he found himself, sitting alone on a log outside of the Hanlon’s barn the night of his graduation party, scared shitless. Because it was easier to fear what you’re facing rather than something you still can’t explain, perhaps. Maybe because it was just the way he was wired... to be a fucking coward.

At that moment, his friends were feet away, laughing and drinking and dancing to Janet Jackson without a care in the world, but it felt like he couldn’t join them. Like he couldn’t chance infecting them with his damned anxiety. He wanted to be like them, carefree like them, in love with life and possibility like them... it just wasn’t who he was.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the footsteps approaching through the grass behind him until his guest spoke.

“What are you doing all by your lonesome out here, Eddie?”

Nibbling at his lip, Eddie shrugged, turning his head once again to meet the dark, warm eyes of his boyfriend, “Dunno...”

Richie rolled his eyes, not in a mean way or a teasing way, Eddie could tell, but in a bemused, endeared sort of gesture. A rare moment of genuine emotion from the boy, honestly, one of the moment generally reserved for Eddie alone. Sitting beside him, Richie nudged him with his shoulder, “You’re gonna have to do better than that to get rid of me, Eds.”

Eddie chuckled, quite humorlessly and looked back at the ground, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Richie asked and though Eddie couldn’t see him, he could see in his mind’s eye that cute eyebrow quirk that he always did. “You been steppin’ out on me, lovey dovey?”

Eddie shot Richie a look, adding monotonously, “Ha. Ha.”

“Come on,” Richie reached over, wrapping his arms around Eddie and bring him close. The chill Eddie had been feeling since leaving the barn’s warmth instantly faded away and he felt himself, despite himself, responding to Richie’s touch by snuggling closer. Richie rested his stupidly taller chin on the crown of Eddie’s head, running a hand up on of the hoodie’s sleeves. “I thought you hated this hoodie? You always lecture when I wear it.”

“Smells like you,” Eddie mumbled, slightly abashed, snuggling into the hole-y, monstrosity of a hoodie

“Goddammit,” Richie sighed, hugged his boyfriend closer, “You are so fucking cute, Eds, I can’t stand it.”

Eddie pulled away to glare at him before leaning back in to rest his head of Richie’s shoulder, “Rich?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you scared?”

“Of?”

“The future? Any of it... all of it?” Eddie sounded serious and unsure, leaving Richie little choice but to respond as close to in kind as possible.

“Shit, Eds, I don’t know. I don’t think like you.”

Eddie knew the remark wasn’t meant as a critique, just a simple truth. Part of his love for Richie was born from them not thinking alike, after all. He didn’t snap back, like he might have if they were having a more normal, casual conversation. Now, he didn’t need that. He needed a bit more.

“What if... what if college changes things? Changes us?” Eddie asked, quietly.

“‘Us’ like the Losers?” Richie asked, “Or ‘us’ like you and me?”

“Either... Both.”

Richie shrugged, smiling teasingly when Eddie took his head off his shoulder to shoot him a half hearted glare in response. As his boyfriend returned to his previous position, Richie sighed, “Well, then we change. Fuck, I think that’s kind of the point of college to an extent, Eds. So, sure, something things will probably change but there are somethings that never will.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asked, unconvinced, “Like what?”

“Like the fact that all of us belong together, like some shitty, fucked-up mosaic. No one’s ever get any of us like we get each other. It’s just never gonna happen. Losers gotta stick together.” Richie eyed Eddie’s head on his shoulder and raised it ever so slightly to gesture between them, “And as for you and me... I mean, I guess I can only speak for myself but I’m pretty fucking obsessed with you. Pretty sure that won’t burn out anytime soon.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie quipped, sitting up and picking at a sleeve of the frayed black hoodie.

Richie cocked his head to the side, watching Eddie for a moment before jumping to his feet, “I got something to show you.”

“What?” Eddie looked at him, confusedly.

“Yup, come on and get your cute ass up, we’re going somewhere,” Richie ordered, pulling Eddie up now. “Give me your keys.”

“No! Tell me where you plan on going at one in the morning!” Eddie argued, looking over his shoulder at the barn, where Madonna was now playing, “Besides, if we’re leaving, we should go say goodbye.”

Richie followed Eddie’s gaze to the barn and shrugged, taking advantage of Eddie’s distractedness to reach into his front pocket and grab the keys to the car, “They’ll just assume we’re rolling around in the hay or something.”

“That’s disgusting, Trashmouth,” Eddie chased after his boyfriend, trying to snatch at the keys as they approached the car. “Richie, I’m serious! Fucking give me my keys! You’re not on my insurance!”

“I’ve driven your car a million times, smartass, but cute try.” Richie got into the front seat and started the engine, looking across the car to where Eddie stood stubbornly outside of the passenger’s side door, “Get in, my love.”

“Tell me where we’re going,” Eddie snapped back, arms crossed over his chest.

Richie replied easily, “The Kissing Bridge.”

“Oh, ha ha, Richard,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “When was your last drink?”

“An hour and a half ago, I’m seriously good, Eds. I wouldn’t drive you if I weren’t. Now, get in.” Richie answered, waving Eddie in.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie muttered darkly before finally giving in and climbing into the passenger’s seat. “Where are we going? For real.”

“Told you,” Richie shot him a smirk, “Kissing Bridge.”

“And what does that have to do exactly with what we were discussing before, idiot?” Eddie asked as Richie pulled out of Mike’s long driveway.

Richie laughed and shook his head, “Can you just trust me for once, Eddie Spaghetti?”

He received another cool glare before his boyfriend answered, “I’m in the fucking car, aren’t I?”

“That you are.”

They drove through the night and Eddie tried his best to keep his mind open. He’d wanted a real conversation with his boyfriend, not some stupid goose chase or whatever it was Richie had planned. Sighing, he watched out the window and was surprised to realize that they were indeed driving toward Derry’s notorious Kissing Bridge.

“Okay, what are we doing, Richie?” Eddie asked, “Because I am not hooking up with you on the fucking Kissing Bridge, okay? And besides, that doesn’t prove anything about what will happen in the future—“

Richie pulled to the shoulder right before the bridge and reached over Eddie’s lap to grab a flashlight from the glove compartment, “Eddie, shut the fuck up and follow me, okay? We can save the hooking up for later, if you’re desperate.”

“Me, desperate? Very funny, Richie.” Eddie shot back, following Richie from the car. “You’re the one who get a boner every time I so much as yawn.”

Richie turned to point the flashlight back as him, “Okay, first of all, you know you stretch all sexily when you yawn and you do it on fucking purpose so fuck off, Eddie. And second of all, it was one time! Like right after we’d started having sex, might I add.”

Eddie slapped the flashlight away from his face and shoved Richie gently while smirking to himself. So, maybe sometimes he did stretch when he yawned of purpose... so what?

“Why the fuck are we out here, Trashmouth?”

“Well, if you’d stop distracting me, I’d show you, wouldn’t I?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just shut up then. A lesson you could take notes on.”

Richie chuckled at his boyfriend and raised the flashlight to the wooden planks of the bridge, glancing from carving to carving. Finally the beam landed on one that caused him to pause and pull Eddie gently toward him by the wrist.

“What?” Eddie asked, turning toward where the beam of light shove of against the white, chipped paint of the bridge. He scanned the area and stopped short upon seeing a pair of initials carved into the wood. “Is that—?”

But the letters were unmistakeable.

R + E

He stepped forward, running his fingers over the clumsily engraved letters, feeling his heart beat faster and his mouth go dry. Turning his head back to Richie, who was watching him, he just barely managed to find his voice, “Did you—?”

Richie nodded, stepping forward and cocking his head to the side as he inspected the carved letters.

Looking between the letters, which appeared worn and old, and his boyfriend, who looked nearly bashful, Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, “But... when?”

Richie sighed and used his free hand to rub the back of his neck, “Uhh... Summer after seventh grade.”

Eddie whirled around time stare at him, eyes wide. “Summer after... but that’s the summer that... we were only 13 that summer.”

“I know,” Richie shrugged and chuckled a little, “I told you before, Eds, I’m kind of obsessed with you. That didn’t just start when we started dating. Look, a lot of shit went down that summer, I know, but figuring out how I felt about you... that’s always been at least one good thing to come out of all of it. I didn’t completely get it then but... Look, Eddie, what I’m saying, in a sort of fucked-up, confusing way, is that I loved you then. I love you a hundred times more now. And I’ll love you even more in the future, college can change whatever else it wants to but it won’t change that. It wouldn’t be possible. You could tell me to fuck off tomorrow and I’d still feel that way.”

Eddie swallowed hard, looking back at the initials carved by a boy he’d once known, a boy who had grown into the man standing there with him now. That boy and his Richie now were different people, just like his Richie now and the one who graduated college four years from now would be different people.

But Richie was right, he’d loved the boy who’d carved their initials into the Kissing Bridge, he loved Richie as he was now and he’d always feel that way. An unknown future couldn’t change that, at least.

Shakily, Eddie looked back at Richie, “D-do you have your pocket knife?”

Richie did that cute eyebrow quirk but reached into his pocket and retrieved the knife, holding it out to Eddie.

Taking it, Eddie carefully butterflied the knife open and delicately went about crouching down before the worn initials. Slowly and taking extreme care, he gently traced over the letters until they were once again clear and plain to read before standing back up, closing the knife and stepping closer to Richie.

“So, you see, right, Eds? We’ll be okay and—“ Richie was silenced by Eddie gripping the front of his t-shirt and tanking him down into a heated kiss.

Barely remembering to keep his grip on the flashlight, Richie wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him closer, kissing him harder. Eddie, he’d long ago decided, was his favorite taste. Like spearmint toothpaste and chapstick but also so much more complex and wonderful than just that.

Pulling away for air, Richie gasped, “Fuck, I love you.”

“Shh,” Eddie rested a finger against his lips to silence him once again, leaning up on his tip toes to kiss up Richie’s jawline to his ear, “Do me a favor?”

“Hmmm?” Richie hummed, eyes drifting closed until Eddie bit lightly at his earlobe.

“Forget what I said earlier about hooking up on the Kissing Bridge,” Eddie pulled away and grabbed Richie’s arm, leading the way back to the car.

“Oh yeah?” Richie asked, half stupidly and half excitedly.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie laughed and took the flashlight from Richie, turning it off and opening the car door to the back seat to throw it and the closed pocket knife on the floor. He then climbed into the back seat and shot Richie a teasing, questioning look.

Richie did not hesitate to follow after him.

[crayolacrayonhalloweenpacks]

I Think We Have Chemistry

Summary: In which Logan is an indirect matchmaker and Roman uses some truly awful puns to flirt with his lab partner.

Words: 2904

Notes: This was Logince before it was Prinxiety, but eventually I realized how much I love writing platonic bantering Logince, so here we are. This is purely self-indulgent. I know only the basics of chem, so please don't murder me, although if you want to make any corrections that's cool by me.If you want some cool music to jam to after reading this try Dissolve by Absofacto. Thanks for reading!

Read on: Archive of Our Own

Roman loved lab days. If he were someone else, he would probably continue by saying that it was the last class of his day before he was allowed to return home and relax, finally freed from academic burdens. But he was him. So even though he loved science in general, the special thing about lab was it allowed him to actually do something. He enjoyed reading and studying as much as the next guy, but after a while, that could only do so much. Even though it only happened once a week, being able to physically perform an experiment, to work out conclusions for himself and see first-hand how the world worked...well, nothing could compare.

He also looked forward to lab because of his partner. Virgil was a “measure-ten-times-cut-once” kind of guy, and usually that kind of excessive paranoia would irritate Roman, but in this case, he found it almost endearing. Without his researching and proofreading skills, their lab reports wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of accuracy and thoroughness that they were. Something that could be annoying, however, was his lack of reaction to Roman’s attempts at flirting. Case in point: their current conversation.

“...and after that, I learned to always bring a change of clothes for combustion labs,” he finished with a triumphant grin. In the eighth grade, he’d damaged one of his favorite shirts, which read “NEVER TRUST AN ATOM: THEY MAKE UP EVERYTHING”, due to his lack of expertise in using lab equipment. It had been embarrassing at the time, but now it was one of his favorite stories to tell: he, a foolhardy yet earnest student, the victim of an overzealous, malignant Bunsen burner. It usually drew out a hearty guffaw from any crowd, but earned only an alarmed grimace from his lab partner. Jeez. This guy was impossible to impress! He slouched back in his chair, trying to maintain a facade of casualness. “Anyway,” he continued, “what were you saying?”

He felt his brother give him a pointed look from across the room. Roman could hear him already. Don’t waste class time, Roman! Pursue non-academic interests outside of school, Roman! He ignored him. Logan had always been a killjoy. He’d make up lost points on the final.

Virgil peered at the clock and cursed under his breath. “Well, I guess Google exists for a reason,” he quipped, dumping the remains of their half-completed lab down the sink.

Roman laughed, perhaps a little more boisterously than was necessary, and started scrubbing the beaker Virgil handed him. “Yeah, totally.”

The bell rang over the intercom just as they finished cleaning up. “I guess I’ll text you later to work on the report.”

“Sure thing!”

Virgil gave him a quick salute and walked out of the classroom, bookbag draped carefree over one shoulder, gait elegantly loose. His hair was growing out. Chestnut roots emerged in stark contrast to the dye, and one aubergine lock curled like a question mark at the nape of his neck. He watched him disappear into the hallway, eventually becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the sea of students.

He hated thinking that--that Virgil was indistinguishable. Virgil was very distinct. Despite not fitting the classic cool guy mold, he was undeniably cool. Maybe not popular, or athletic, or social, or--okay, he was getting off-track now. Virgil was quiet, but never standoffish. He was true to his word and always held up his end of the work, never slacking off or making excuses. He was precise and grounded and paid attention to the little details. Paired with Roman’s knowledgeability, they were a laboratory dream team. Possibly a dream team outside of lab work as well.

“That’s my chair.” A sharp voice crashed into Roman’s daydreams.

He jerked up, face flaming. Right--the AP chemistry class. “Hello! So it is! Well, I will get out of your way, then!” He scrambled for his books and shoved them into his bookbag. He winced when, in his haste, his lab worksheet crumpled under his textbook, but slung it on his back anyway and pulled out the chair with a flourish. “Sorry about that. Have a pleasant day!” he called to his teacher. Some of the students laughed good-naturedly as he strode out, including the teacher, who turned back to his lesson with a grin on his face. As annoyed as they had been, they still liked him, or at least thought he was decent. Was he not charming, funny, all the things a potential romantic interest ought to be? What was he not getting?

~

“I know you like him, but this is not helping your chemistry grade,” Logan said as soon as Roman got home.

“Were you just standing at the door this whole time?”

“I arrived only a few minutes ago.”

“We take the same route!”

“I walk faster.”

“At least give me an opportunity to sit,” he grouched, but launched into a vent as soon as he dropped his bookbag on the floor, ending the soliloquy with “I’ve tried everything--everything!--and he’s still so…” He sighed, pushing hair away from his face.

“Unresponsive?”

"Yes, exactly! He just nods and goes right back to the class!”

“Perhaps that’s because it’s a class.”

“I know, I know, participation, pay attention, bla bla bla. Jeez, Mom.”

“I’m your brother.”

“Don’t be so literal. My point is, you’d think he’d at least laugh just a little bit. Is that not so much to ask? I told him about the Bunsen burner incident, and he just looked at me like--”

“I’m sorry, the what incident?”

Roman snapped and pointed at Logan. “Exactly like that! Just like I was an--an idiot!” He groaned, draping one arm over his forehead and fanning himself with the other. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Hm.” Logan furrowed his brow thoughtfully, trailing off into silence.

“Don’t just sit there, it’s making me nervous,” he said half-jokingly.

“Well, have you considered that he doesn’t understand?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m saying it’s very much possible that he hasn’t noticed your advances. You may need to stop beating around the bush and be more direct.”

“This is as direct as it gets!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been making normal conversation. Like how you talk to me--”

“Ew--”

“--so are you certain?”

“Quite--” he started, affronted, then stopped. “Wait.” The inkling of an idea that had just occurred to him started to solidify. Of course! He prided himself on his charisma. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? A little miffed that his ironically aromantic brother had just suggested such an obvious solution, he proclaimed, “Logan, you’re a genius!” and grabbed his bookbag.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a little research, so to speak. Nothing too excessive, but!” He paused for dramatic effect. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

Logan still looked surprised, but quickly settled into satisfaction. “Fantastic. I’m glad to see your spirits are raised.”

“Talk later, Pocket Bro-tector!” His mind already racing with daydreams, Roman sprinted back to his room, plopped in front of his desk, and flipped his laptop open. He could feel the electricity coursing through it when his fingers hovered over the keyboard, or maybe that was just the adrenaline. Either way, it was thrilling. He typed in a quick search and opened a new Word document to record. This was perfect. What could be more direct than a pickup line?

~

Roman waltzed into lab the next week and snapped up two worksheets from his teacher’s desk. He’d debated putting the plan into action through text over the weekend, but eventually decided it would be more effective in person. So here he was, in person, with a fountain of chemistry puns ready to fall from his mouth at the drop of a hat. There was no way Virgil wouldn’t notice now. Roman seated himself, fingers drumming in anticipation. He was golden.

Virgil walked in a few minutes later, placing last week’s lab report on their teacher’s desk. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. Same soup reheated.” On the other side of the lab, Logan was giving him a questioning look. He grinned back before passing Virgil a worksheet. Their fingers brushed, barely. He swooned.

Virgil’s eyes flew back and forth at lightning speed, scanning the paper. “I’ll grab the equipment if you can get the reactants.”

“Ooh, what are they this time?”

“Copper...some other stuff.”

"Ah! Speaking of copper, are you made of it and tellurium? Because you’re C-U-T-E.”

Across the room, Logan facepalmed.

“O...kay?” he said unsurely. “I’ll just. Get that stuff now.”

Roman turned his back, partially to get the samples, partially to recover. He chewed his lip. Okay. Focus, Roman! You got this! He patted his pocket to reassure himself. He’d printed the compilation of pick-up lines at the library earlier, and it was there if he needed it. Which he wouldn’t, obviously! His natural charm would prevail.

And also, he had the entire thing memorized. He supposed there was that as well.

Roman returned with five Ziploc bags of metal samples. The scale squealed on the tabletop when Virgil slid it over. “Is this everything?” Virgil picked up the manual again.

“Indeed! Let us begin.”

Virgil read over the first page again and frowned. “Hey, you know the periodic table pretty well, right? Which one is eleven?”

See? It’s all working out! “You, because you’re sodium--”

“U?” he frowned. “Isn’t uranium, like, ninety or something?”

“Yes--well, yes, but you see--I, uh--” he stuttered before going abruptly silent.

“What?”

Roman ducked his head, hoping his hair would hide his burning cheeks. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Uh, sure.” He scratched the back of his neck before holding out a hand. “Hand me the copper?”

~

The bell sounded over the intercom, signifying the end of the period. They had managed to get through the procedure on time, mainly because Roman was too preoccupied with worrying to continue with the pick-up lines. If he wasn’t being as straightforward as possible before, he was now. How was it possible for someone to be so oblivious?

“Same time next week,” Virgil deadpanned, getting up to leave.

Come on, Roman, he scolded himself. The period was ending. This might be the only chance he could get. “Wait!”

“Yeah?” He looked at him expectantly.

Roman cursed the stars. His mind had gone completely blank--so much for memorization--and it wasn’t like he could just pull out the reference sheet right now. “Um.” Very eloquent. Come on, something! “If there was no gravity on Earth, I’d still fall for you,” he blurted.

Virgil stared at him blankly, and without another word, left.

What was that? How had things gotten so bad that he’d resorted to physics? He hadn't even researched that! He was paralyzed. He wanted to dissolve like salt in water, until he was part of the air. He wanted to evaporate and catapult himself out of the troposphere. He snatched up his bookbag and stalked outside to head home.

Logan appeared at his shoulder not long after. “What was that?” he hissed.

He scoffed. “I did what you said. Hypocrite much?”

“When did I say to do--” He performed a series of elaborate, meaningless gestures. “--that?”

“You said to be more direct!”

“I didn’t mean like that!”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant a heart-to-heart talk or something!”

“So for me to just--profess my love or something? Are you crazy?”

“Oh, so I’m the crazy one? Copper and tellurium aren’t even particularly reactive!”

“It was a creative liberty!”

“There are no creative liberties in science!”

“There are in the science of seduction!”

Logan huffed. “I’m not even going to validate that with a response.”

“Fine! I didn’t need you to rub it in anyway!”

They were so busy arguing they hadn’t even realized they were already home. Logan’s face softened. “I apologize, Roman. I shouldn’t have behaved so harshly. That was...inconsiderate of me.”

“Jeez, don’t say that. Now I have to apologize, too.”

"Did it really go so badly?”

"At least give me a chance to sit down,” he said, but didn’t even wait this time. “I think he hates me. He didn’t even say anything! Just--left.”

“I doubt that. The worse case is you made things very uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“But even if that’s what happened, you should be able to patch things up and act in a professional manner. If things really aren’t working, you could always request to switch partners, but the school year will be ending soon anyway--” He cut himself off. “I’m not helping, are I.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Logan shuffled his feet. “As a gesture of goodwill and comfort,” he started. “Would you enjoy a hug?”

“Whoa, what? Human contact? From Logan Browne?”

“Well, scientifically speaking, it does release dopamine--”

“C’mere,” he said, throwing his arms around his brother’s shoulders before realizing he had no idea how to hug him. The material of his button-down shirt scratched his neck unpleasantly. He patted Logan on the back stiffly before peeling away.

Logan wrinkled his nose. “That was rather awkward.”

“Only if you make it.”

“Do you feel better?”

Roman paused. “You know what? I think I do.”

“Satisfactory.”

“I’m just glad I won’t have to see him for another week.”

"You can’t avoid him forever,” Logan warned.

“I know,” he muttered.

“Well, when you do have to confront him...I’m more than happy to act as moral support.”

Roman laughed. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Isaac Nerd-ton.”

He squinted. “How am I more of a nerd than you?”

“The glasses.”

“You have glasses, too--”

“Not anymore!” he declared, pointing to the corner of one eye. “Contacts now. And my eyes have always been better than yours.”

“We have the same prescription!”

“We do not!” he countered, before both of them collapsed in a fit of giggles.

~

“And that’s a wrap, folks! Great job!” Roman’s teacher clapped his hands. “You’re dismissed.”

Thank the stars. Roman had been filled with dread the entirety of lab and the preceding twenty or so hours. It had both relieved and heightened his anxiety when Virgil barely spoke or made eye contact, flushing red and looking away whenever Roman caught his eye. On one hand, he didn’t have to talk about the previous week’s antics, but on the other, the air felt too tense to so much as look at him. Glad that the period was over, he grabbed his bookbag and started towards the door.

He glanced over his shoulder to see where Logan was--he wanted intensely to beat him home for once--only to see Virgil talking to a taller boy who had a wide grin on his face. Roman recognized him as a Patton something-or-other who’d been in his class in eighth grade. They didn’t talk much, but he seemed nice enough. He hadn’t known he and Virgil were friends.

The two of them looked directly at him, Virgil swallowing nervously. Roman wheeled back around, more intent on leaving this time, as Patton laughed brightly. Apparently, he wasn’t so kind. Humiliation boiled in his gut. FIne. Let them laugh at him. He didn’t care. Or, at least, he could pretend he didn’t.

Logan sidled over to him. “He’s coming this way,” he muttered.

“What?”

“He’s walking over,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time,” he said between gritted teeth, “but what?”

“I don’t know, I just-- Oh, hello. Virgil, is it?” he said coolly.

Roman’s head snapped up. He immediately wished he’d kept looking down.

Virgil stiffened. “Hey.” Behind him, Roman could see Patton giving a thumbs-up so enthusiastic he feared for his hand bones. What was going on?

“How may I help you?” Logan said.

“I, uh. Wanted to talk to Roman, actually.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh.”

“Whatever you can say in front of Roman, you can say in front of me.”

Virgil scratched the back of his neck, sighed, and faced Roman. “Look, we have lab together, right?”

“Well, yes. We’re here right now.”

“So…” He groaned, burying his face in one hand and muttering something incomprehensible.

Roman frowned. “Pardon?”

“So,” he said, voice still slightly muffled, “I think we…” He sighed. “We have chemistry.”

Roman blinked. His stomach swooped. Was this a joke?

Virgil groaned again. “Sorry, that was just--absolutely terrible. I’m going to--” He pointed at the door.

“No, wait!” Roman grabbed his elbow before he could turn away. “That was.” He searched his brain for a word. “Uh. Thank you,” he finished lamely.

“Oh,” Virgil said. He stood up a little straighter. As if anything about that was remotely straight, Roman thought to himself with a snort. “Uh. I guess I’ll, uh.” He did a quick finger-guns motion.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” He saluted him and started walking past them.

“Cool,” Roman echoed.

Virgil turned back and gave a hesitant smile. If it weren’t for Logan standing behind to catch him, he would have face-planted on the floor.

Logan waved a hand in front of his face. “Well?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you all set?”

Roman felt dizzy and a little lightheaded, like someone had filled him with helium and released him into an infinite expanse of blue, blue sky. A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I think so.”

~

Virgil did text him, a few hours later.

Virgil (Science) After next lab? Maybe the park or smth

Me See you then

Roman loved lab days.

[lovesnob]

♣️ CLOVER WORLD ♣️

Kent was my first love in Amnesia: Memories.I always go for the glasses achetype first, sue me. I have a thing for the blatantly dry, academics consumed kind of man. I felt a bit frustrated with Kent’s character throughout the beginning of his pay-through, but he came out to be sweet all the same. One of the most endearing things about him is that he constantly worried that the protag is going to break up with him! Dear, sweet Kent. My humble little nerd. We might not have wound up with this guy had we not lost all our memories. He’s always reminding the player of how frequently they argued

I also feel his suspicion is inherently higher than almost all the other men. He’s so analytical, he notices a sharp change in your behavior and always brings it up. 

This is a complete guide to all potential endings in clover world.

I know I say this every time, but i want to remind everyone that the prologue choices don’t matter much. Pick whatever you’d like until August 1st.

PROLOGUE

I see a strange-looking kid...

No, I understood...

Alright...

I appreciate it.

I think so

You might be overthinking it...

Clover World

Orion...

I can't remember anything

All options

Yes, let's hurry

Right, let's hurry and look

August 1st

He might not be good at writing messages

I should sit down for now

SAVE HERE FOR BAD END ONE

Please have a seat

I'm sorry about yesterday

1450 yen

Why did we walk all this way?

Good morning and good night are enough

August 2nd

Would you like to take a walk to my work?

I wanted to watch the servers at the cafe

I came to borrow a manual

I'm not sure about going to a guy's house...

August 3rd

I'll try calling Kent

Would you like to talk?

What are you talking about...?

I'd like to go...but I can't, right?

August 4th

And a good job to you too, Kent!

August 5th

It's okay, I'm fine

I'm looking forward to it!

August 6th

I like that he sticks to his own way of life

August 7th

Don't you want to talk about anything?

Are you really going to study abroad?

A coworker told me we're love rivals now

What...?

You'll break up with me if you're tired of me? 

August 8th

What are you thinking, Kent?

...Maybe we should hold hands

I do

Yes, thank you

Thank you very much

August 9th

Select all options, i picked them in order from top top bottom.

Are you calling me out of obligation?

I'll try the math workbook

500m

19 times

In 53 days

26 minutes

334

That day will never come

50 times

About 39%

About 2cm

Nobody knows

That's right

August 10th

SAVE HERE FOR NORMAL END

No, I can't think of anything

I don't dislike it, but it hurts

August 11th

It is a surprise...

August 12th

I thought we were going to see the fireworks

I just wanted to go with you...

Maybe you could hold me tighter?

I like the goldfish scoop stalls

August 13th

Um, my boyfriend is Kent

August 14th

I would be a little curious

I'm with Kent right now...

Kent asked me...

August 15th

Okay, I'll try

August 16th

Toma...

I want you to stay with me, Kent

Did you prefer the past me?

August 17th

I want to admit everything

I don't mind if you misunderstand...

...

Just from the time we met the other day...

Um, could we hurry home?

August 18th

...We'll walk home together

...I'm sorry for trying to hide it

I didn't want to be shut away in a hospital...

It's okay if I don't remember

August 19th

Um, I'm fine...

August 20th

Will you believe me if I tell you something?

Is it okay if I remember?

August 21st

Thank you, I'll stay over

I'm lonely, too

Love is irrational

August 22nd

No, that would be inappropriate...

August 23rd

Is it weird to like someone you didn't before?

August 24th

It'll be fine, no matter what I remember

There's also another message

August 25th

I'll go get his notes

August 26th

Thank you for apologizing

I think I said too much as well

August 27th

379 days

August 29th

Okay, then i’ll try

♣️ -HAPPY ENDING- ♣️

NORMAL ENDING

->Load save 2

August 10th

There might be...

Please, calm down

August 11th

Thank you...

August 12th

I thought we were going to see the fireworks

Okay, I'll think about it

August 13th

Um, my boyfriend is Kent

August 14th

No. I wouldn't care at all, either

Yeah, it's okay

Kent asked me...

August 15th

...Kent is very busy

August 16th

Toma...

I want you to stay with me, Kent

Did you prefer the past me?

August 17th

I want to admit everything

I don't mind if you misunderstand...

Please be patient

Just from the time we met the other day...

Um, could we hurry home?

August 18th

Let's run away

...I'm sorry for trying to hide it

I couldn't trust anyone...

Was it really that bad before?

August 19th

Why are you here, Kent?

August 20th

It's okay, I just need to sleep a little

August 21st

Thank you, I'll stay over

Please do your best

Love is irrational

August 22nd

I kind of want him to get jealous...

August 23rd

I really do wonder why I disliked him before

August 24th

Nothing bad...

August 25th

I'll go get his notes

August 26th

It's all in the past...

BAD END ONE

-> Load save 1

Sit down

I don't like that attitude

1350 yen

Thank you for walking me home

You don't need to force yourself to text me

August 2nd

Do you want to meet me at my work?

It's because I don't feel confident in my work

I came to borrow a manual

No, I'm coming

August 3rd

I'll try calling Kent

....

What are you talking about...?

Can I go, too...?

August 5th

It's okay, I'm fine

I'm looking forward to it!

August 6th

I like that he's so earnest

August 7th

Don't you want to talk about anything?

Are you really going to study abroad?

A coworker told me we're love rivals now

What...?

You'll break up with me if you're tired of me?

August 8th

I don't have much to say...

SAVE HERE FOR BAD ENDING TWO

Tell me why you're always so belligerent

No, I don't think I need this

August 9th

Select all options, i picked them in order from top top bottom.

Then you don't need to call me over

That's right

August 10th

There might be...

Please, calm down

August 11th

Thank you...

August 12th

I thought we were going to see the fireworks

I just wanted to go with you...

I don't mind

I like the goldfish scoop stalls

August 13th

Um, my boyfriend is Kent

August 14th

No. I wouldn't care at all, either

Yeah, it's okay

Kent asked me...

August 15th

...Kent is very busy

August 16th

I don't know, either

I'll just stay with Sawa and the others...

Did I really change that much?

August 17th

I don't want to face any danger

Um, it was just a misunderstanding

I'm not sure...Do I?

My attitude hasn't changed

August 18th

Let's run away

...I'm sorry for trying to hide it

BAD END TWO

-> Load save 3

August 8th

...Maybe we should hold hands

I do

Could you say it again?

No, I don't think I need this

August 9th

Select all options, i picked them in order from top top bottom.

Then you don't need to call me over

That's right

August 10th

There might be...

Please, calm down

August 11th

Thank you...

August 12th

I thought we were going to see the fireworks

I just wanted to go with you...

Maybe you could hold me tighter?

I like the goldfish scoop stalls

August 13th

Um, my boyfriend is Kent

August 14th

No. I wouldn't care at all, either

Yeah, it's okay

Kent asked me...

August 15th

...Kent is very busy

August 16th

I don't know, either

I'll just stay with Sawa and the others...

Did I really change that much?

August 17th

I don't want to face any danger

I don't mind if you misunderstand...

...

I'm not sure...Do I?

My attitude hasn't changed

August 18th

Let's run away

...I'm sorry for trying to hide it

I couldn't trust anyone...

Was it really that bad before?

August 19th

Why are you here, Kent?

August 20th

It's okay, I just need to sleep a little

August 21st

Thank you, I'll stay over

Please do your best

Love is irrational

August 22nd

I kind of want him to get jealous...

August 23rd

I really do wonder why I disliked him before

August 25th

I wonder if Kent will be okay...

Kent’s route is such a sweet one. You really get that rewarding feeling from WORKING towards making a relationship work, albeit fictional all the same, heh. You get to see his icy exterior melt. He set the tone of the game for me, and if i hadn’t enjoyed him so much as a character i might have stopped playing. I’m such a flake when it comes to VN sometimes.  (´；ω；`)

[archer3-13]

fire emblem three houses famitsu article.

so, after parsing through the famitsu article as translated via broken google translate english, i have deduced that they are really leaning hard into the school management aspect for fire emblem three houses. of all things. like im not necessarily mad, im just a bit wary since this means the games really gonna have to knock it out of the park writing wise. anyways, other things of note:

1. class divides by gender are a thing to note again, and im not particularly a fan of this especially in a game thats trying to set itself up as more in depth and open in terms of unit customization. that said, so long as they provide alternatives that can fulfill the same needs or aesthetics as the mono gendered classes for the opposite gendered classes then i suppose i can accept it in this case. im still annoyed though - -..... the classes in case your wondering that the article mentions seem to be a fist fighter class and the dark mage of all things so im gonna hope for/assume that they have witches as a thing and like a female kungfu class? dont disappoint me game.

2. gauntlets do indeed have a brave effect but are not unsurprisingly locked to foot bound classes only. definitely interested in seeing how it’ll interact with gameplay once i get my hands on the game.

3. hidden talents. apparently if a units got a star or some sort of indicator next to one of the weapon skills in the learning screen (you know, the screen they showed that was for teaching scrubs how to ride horses and swing swords better) that’s a hidden talent for the unit meaning if you put the effort into teaching them that skill they’ll be hell of a lot better at it. upon closer inspection it looks like if your student has stars beside a certain weapon skill and you fill it all the way up, the student now starts receiving double the weapon exp for that skill.

4. school activities, or to meme here SOCIAL ACTIVITY!! basically force your students to participate in school projects i guess as part of a motivation system/learning thing? im not entirely clear on it but it basically looks like forcing people to do stuff. speaking of motivation though... upon closer inspection its kinda like the support system but your designating students to go pull weeds and thus build trust soo... maybe its how you grind supports? or their the supports themselves? idk, force children to perform manual labour and watch them grow closer like some sort of weirdo.

5. if they aint motivated they probably aint gonna do as well. motivation being the... motivation i guess to incentive players to participate in the social activity aspect of things. basically, if you interact and keep your students happy they’ll be more likely to learn what your trying to teach them like riding horses

6. personal skills, and boy are they as... boring as fates personal skills were - -. the main house lords get a flat exp multiplier (a 1.2 multiplier...) each and a lot of the other personal skills are in the vein of ‘plus 5 damage when alone’ or ‘plus 5 hit when standing near boys’ stuff like that. hopefully crests will provide more interesting effects? idk im just kinda tired of skills in main series titles being so underwhelming in fire emblem these days, once upon a time having vantage and wrath was actually really fucking scary. now bllppppthhtthhhhh!... well hopefully it wont be like that this time with other skills. oh yeah, class skills are a thing as always.

7. squads and formations. they do indeed seem to provide some pretty strong effects form what i can tell though i could be missing out on what they actually do through the broken english. what i can parse anyways, you can buy squads like weapons and equip them if you have a high enough rank, the difference being that squads actually level up themselves depending on how they do. squads provide stat boosts when equipped but can also decrease certain stats so a cost benifit situation there and you have to buy more people for a squad if you run out/low on them, that said the article guarantees that buying a new squad is expensive but replacing them is cheap which i guess means dont let your squads run out and keep em topped out? idk, the more interesting bit is the sleights or whatever their called. depending on the formation/squad or whatever you can essentially pull off a super attack such as attacking multiple enemies at once or even more criminally insane granting multiple allies a +5 to movement for a turn.

8. remember old professor dude from the trailer? hes apparently going to be obsessed with the crests in some fashion from what i gather which just endears him to me even more. he will be my best friend with his stupid monocle.

9. pony tail blue lions guy, from his personal skill being called ‘lone wolf’ im gonna guess that hes the navarre esque character of the game. glad to see the tropes still in place even with a game that seems to be trying to be as different as possible.

10. calendars! 12 month calendar, each month is apparently a ‘chapter’ meaning if it follows standard fe game length its probably gonna be about 2 and a 1/3 in game years ish? 

11. really forcing the school stuff since apparently you have a teaching rank that determines how many ‘actions’ you can take and thus the more you interact with your students the more you’ll be able to do per in game week

[whatifexo]

Goodbye - Scenario Dump

Hello, everyone~ This is quite possibly the last thing I’m going to post on this blog. It’s a dump of three unfinished scenarios I wasn’t able to finish in the past 2 years. As you all probably saw coming, I can no longer find the motivation to continue updating this blog and writing on a daily basis. I could write a whole novel on why I’ve decided to leave, but I’ll keep it short: Life changes and so do we. These last 3-4 years with you all have been almost surreal. From your kind messages to our crazy drabble games, I really felt welcomed as a writer and contributor to the fandom. Thank you so much for sharing this creative space with me. I will miss you all dearly. For those who are willing to stick around with me a little longer, I’m actually way more active on this blog! I’m also working on writing a little fic there, and after it’s posted, we’ll see if I do more. But for now, that’s where you can find me.

And now, for the word vomit you’ve all been waiting for under the cut. These are unedited and unfinished so pls forgive me if you find errors, lol. Thank you, everyone! See you on the flip!

Red Carpet - Jaebum

New Year ’s Eve.

You’ve grown used to spending it with the familiar waft of cookies and hot chocolate, the crinkle of wrapping paper, and carols softly playing on the radio. This year, you spend the last night of the year alone, ironically so amidst the energetic chaos flying about backstage. At some point, you’d escaped the insistent hands of your stylists and bowed past several of your seniors, never lifting your head to make eye contact. Utmost respect meant quick greetings. No questions asked. No suspicions. No one took notice when you slipped out the back exit and ascended up the flight of stairs leading into the rooftop.

Nausea hits you as soon as you peer over the edge and spot the red carpet below, still bustling with activity. The flashes from the paparazzi are blinding even from far away. Around them, fans crowd behind the barricades, holding up signs and gifts. A wall of security stands guard at the sidelines. Sleek, black vans with tinted windows roll slowly down the street, dropping off the stars of the night. Just hours ago, you were one of the many idols who walked down that glamorous path.

Your stomach flips at the memory of the event.

There was an overwhelming response to your arrival, even more so when your name made headlines after your iconic debut stage.

______,The Rising Star. Korea’s Next BoA. The Nation’s Pride.

Crippling pressure weighed on you as soon as you first touched limelight. Your fans rapidly accumulated. Your albums sold out in mere days. You received offers for commercials and acting roles, you were invited to guest on entertainment shows. Your company’s sales soared, and in turn, they prioritized your promotions over your label mates’. After all of this, tonight, on the red carpet, they had asked you how you felt.

You now chuckle sadistically to yourself, grabbing onto the metal railing and hardly feeling the cold there.

They think you’re ecstatic. Absolutely thrilled and honored to be here amongst the leading celebrities of the country, ending the year with trophies and explosive performances. Tonight, the world expects you to live up to their expectations.

How can you possibly fulfill these demands when your stomach is in knots and your throat is chocked with anxiety?

Dropping your hands from the railing, you step back with wobbling knees. Your dress suddenly feels tight around your body, locking you in a wicked grip. The worst of your fears race through your head.

What if you don’t deserve all of this attention after all? What if you break on stage? What if your voice falters and cracks in the middle of your performance? What if your fans are disgusted by your self-composed songs?  

If they hate it…

The shock of this thought shoots through your bones like lightning, and you stumble back, your heel snagging in your long dress. You yelp in surprise as your body loses balance and falls backward, colliding with a broad and solid chest.

A pair of gentle hands catches you by the shoulders.  

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

The voice is deep and quiet. There’s familiarity in the man’s tone, as if you’d heard it before in a passing conversation. Your guard raises, and you pull away to face the stranger who you assume to be a passing senior or staff member.

“I’m sorry. I’ll head back in-“

“I don’t think taking a few breaths calls for an apology.”

Im Jaebum, leader of Got7, stares back at you inquisitively with a raised brow.

Your heart stutters in your chest. The last time you’d seen him, it had been in the dressing room hours ago, when he’d been sitting in front of the mirror having his hair styled. You were passing by in the hall and your eyes met briefly through your reflection on the glass. He looked startled, smiling politely before blushing by the tips of his ears. The staff had abruptly the door to his dressing room before you could react.

In contrast to then, the Jaebum in front of you now no longer seems so shy. Dark eyeliner accentuates his eyes, adding a heavy undertone to his gaze that warms your insides. You panic slightly under the weight of his undivided attention, eyes unnervingly focused and…concerned?

Surely, you must be wrong.

“If you’re questioning my motives, then yes, I actually did follow you up here,” Jaebum’s lips curve into a smile. Your face warms in response. “You looked sick and pale, and I know that look all too well.”

“You do?” you blurt out, eyes widening at yourself. You never do this. Never respond to your elders informally or entertain colleagues who made their advances. In revealing something more than your stage persona, you were afraid of exposing your vulnerabilities. So you became a shell. Bathed in the spotlight, but never letting anyone touch your core.

Jaebum has thrown all of your practice out the window.

“I remember when I felt that way,” Jaebum nods, as if confirming something in your eyes. He’s reading you as easily as an instruction manual, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I felt something like it after Jinyoung and I stopped promoting as JJ Project.”

Jaebum’s gaze softens. He slides past you to look over the railing where the activities of the red carpet event have begun to dwindle. You watch his back and taut shoulders for a moment, hesitating. He could be up to something. Leading you to let down your guard so he can tease and torture you about it later.

You’ve heard stories during your training period. How seniors sometimes pressured rookie artists, manipulating the rules of seniority in order to bully the ones on the lowest of tiers. The end goal was to drive the rookies to quit, weeding out the competition so the ones at the top may stay there. It was a sick, twisted game played by a select few, but still a possibility in this line of business.  

But to be played by Im Jaebum?

You shake your head.

He’s better than this. You know it with certainty. Those eyes that met with yours in the mirror held the truth, and somehow, you know you can trust him.

Joining him to stand by the railing, you watch Jaebum examine his hands, calloused and stretched on the back of his palms. With a start, you remember watching an interview of Got7 weeks ago while you were on standby in the waiting room. Jaebum recounted a story of his stray cats in the dorm, each who had bizarre, yet strangely endearing personalities.

You find yourself smiling before he even begins to speak.

“I think my whole world fell apart and rebuilt itself when I re-debuted with the boys.” he folds his hands, toying with his fingers in awkward movements. “I hated them for a time just because they were new and inexperienced. But God, did they grow on me fast. I wanted to show off as their senior, but who was I kidding? I was still shitting my pants before our debut stage.”

You laugh out loud at this, and Jaebum turns to you, mirth in his eyes despite his unfortunate story.

“You know why they call me out for being so hyperactive out there?” he jerks his head to the side, referring to an imaginary audience.

You shake your head, and he sighs softly.

“Because I don’t think I’ll ever forget the energy of my first stage. As in, my first genuine stage. I was happy. I didn’t care about what others might think of me in that moment or afterwards. I was out there losing myself in my craft, and that’s the only thing I hold on to when I perform. That should be your only concern tonight too.”

His eyes dart over to the red carpet briefly, and you shiver, both from the chill of the night and the implication of his words.

“How did you know?” you stare up at him, wondering. In a matter of minutes, he’d figured you out. Related with your emotions and churning thoughts. Though all he did was talk about himself, you don’t think this is really about him. Not completely. Otherwise, he would have approached this conversation with much more arrogance.

No, that’s not it.

He’s comforting you.

The realization has your pulse quickening.  

“You can say I know from experience.” Jaebum grins with a degree of shyness, as if reading into your thoughts.

You hold his gaze for a few beats. The familiar flush on his ears has returned, but his eyes are unwavering. For the first time tonight, you let out an unlabored breath. Your heart is still running a marathon, but this time, in a good way. Jaebum is still watching you as you let your eyes flutter shut.

“Thank you.”

“For what? The pleasure is mine.”

There’s mischief laced in Jaebum’s voice.

You crack an eye open.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Jaebum says incredulously, lips quirking into a smile. “I’m actually one of your biggest fans.”

The world freezes for a second.

The distant camera flashes halt to a stop, the sound of screaming fans dim to an acute noise, and the cold air lifts from your skin, warming your body from inside out.  Your vision blurs from the intoxication of Jaebum’s confession. His timid smile is all you can see.

“Why me?” you ask more to yourself than to Jaebum, recalling all the times you’ve quietly watched him with awe from behind the scenes, the charismatic leader of his team. Someone as occupied and charming as he wouldn’t have time to admire a rookie idol like you.

“Why not you?” Jaebum challenges, raising a brow.

“Because…” you struggle to reason with him. You’re not up to par with him. He’s several years your senior. You have not yet shown your full potential. “…because I’m me.”

“You’re being unfair, _______.” Jaebum chuckles, though his tone is bitter. “I didn’t come up here to get rejected.”

Your eyes shoot up to his in alarm.

“I wasn’t-“

“Rejecting me? I know, it’s hard not to.”

You barely manage to keep yourself from cringing.  

Jaebum, on the other hand, completely fails to hide his horror. Even in the dark, the dim glow of the moon is enough to expose his flushed cheeks.

Vicissitude - Part 3 (Chanyeol)

“Care to tell me why you haven’t been to work for the past three days?”

Kyungsoo is scary.

He entered the kitchen twenty minutes ago without saying a word, silently tiptoeing around you and your laptop at the table to brew some coffee. You’d almost forgotten he was there until he cleared his throat, paused for a solid few seconds, then dropped the big question.

You were hoping he wouldn’t notice.

But his low profile tendencies have a reason behind it, which is being highly aware of his surroundings and noticing changes.  Which you’ve clearly made.

You’re actually doing your homework.

A lot of it.

Along with other things.

“Oh, you know,” you say over the whirring of the coffee machine. “Places to be. People to meet.”

“In the middle of nowhere.”

You never knew Kyungsoo had so much sass in him. The quiet, deadly kind of sass that catches you off guard because he’s being so painfully casual for someone who’s about to pry for information.

And his back is still turned on you.

“I still haven’t gotten my paycheck, by the way.” you’re stalling, which is painfully obvious. “I’m going on strike.”

Kyungsoo finally shows his face after pressing a button on the coffee machine, the whirring immediately subsiding after he lifts the mug from the base of the machine. He studies you quietly without an ounce of emotion on his face, and you try to mimic the same neutral expression but you know you just probably look like you’re constipated.

“Paychecks come out every two weeks. And considering that you’ve also skipped out on the past few days…..” he doesn’t finish knowing that you understand the deal here.

No work, no pay.

You sigh, acknowledging defeat and turning back to your laptop to finish up that government paper you’re only halfway finished with because you didn’t actually start writing it until three days ago. Somewhere along the line, you’ve turned writing papers into a form of distraction.

In actuality, you hate writing. But it gives you something to do and think about other than the lingering touch of Yixing’s lips and the thin layer of guilt there that you’re still trying to figure out.

As usual, forgetting things isn’t as easy as it seems.

“Please tell me you’re going to go away soon.” you say without looking up from your laptop, because you know very well that Kyungsoo is still standing there with his coffee and he hasn’t shown any sign of movement.

He’s also making you think of things again which is bad. Very bad.

“I’m waiting.”

He wants answers.

He’s been hanging out with Baekhyun too much. He’s slowly getting just as annoying. And by annoying you mean being able to read right through you even with the façade you’re showing.

Are you really that readable?

“Then keep waiting.” you pull down your laptop screen and grab for your coat behind your chair, and only now does Kyungsoo set down his coffee in mild surprise.

“Where are you going?”

He sounds like your mom whenever you ask her if you can hang with some friends she doesn’t recognize the names of at any time past nine in the evening.  

Mind you, it’s only three in the afternoon right now. Therefore, Kyungsoo can’t call you out on this.

“On a walk.” you offer him a salute, which he doesn’t take very well as he scrunches his brows in thought back at you.

Amazing how much character development he can show within only a week or so after meeting him for the first time. There’s also the fact that you’ve somewhat taken a liking to him during your time at the lounge whenever you’d exchange random pleasantries in between working breaks.

Or how he randomly takes care of the people around him without much thought through simple things. Such as waking Baekhyun up every morning without yelling at him about his alarm that wakes just about everyone in the cabin except for him. And how he’ll diligently listen to Chanyeol’s guitar playing and actually give feedback unlike Jongin who merely offers a nod of approval whenever Chanyeol asks for his opinion.

The way he’d wash Yixing’s favorite purple hoodie every night and run it through the dryer because that’s how often that boy wears it.

Now he’s trying to ease off some of the burden from you too.

Except this isn’t his fight.

And he must realize it too with the way he’s fallen silent again.

That is, until you reach the front door and he calls out for you right before you slip outside into the freezing temperatures. You can’t help but stop and wait for his word of advice.

“If you can’t tell me, tell someone who deserves to hear it.”

~~~

Your little ‘walk’ lasts about ten minutes tops until you decide to turn right around and come back to the comfort of the fireplace indoors. It must be below zero degrees today, with the fog making it nearly impossible to spot anything more than a foot away from you.

You’d only gone out about half a mile or so, but twenty minutes later you’re still walking and slowly beginning to panic as time continues to stretch and you fail to spot the cabin or the others that should be nearby.

Your vicinity isn’t exactly at its best given the circumstances.

To add on to the already dangerous situation, you hadn’t brought your cell phone with you either.

Brilliant, _________, just brilliant.

You wanted to drift far away from your problems but you didn’t actually want to be this far away.

Not even a sign of civilization.    

You’ve never hated yourself more than you do now.

Another set of time passes, you have no idea how much, but by then your nose is frozen and you’re certain you’re only minutes away from getting frostbite on your toes. Along with that, you’re also left with some thinking time, and said thinking time encompasses just about everything odd and dramatic that has occurred throughout the course of this trip and what exactly you need to do to survive this and finally untangle the tangled affairs of your heart.

And just when you think you might die without clearing up your ongoing issues, salvation comes.

There’s a guy wearing a bright orange jacket walking in the opposite direction as you, and at first you think it’s Taemin because you’re very familiar with that jacket.

Though when you yell out and frantically flail your hands to catch his attention, you realize two things.

One, the guy is certainly not Taemin. His shoulders are too broad to be Taemin and he’s also a few inches taller than Taemin.

Two, Kyungsoo’s words of wisdom just slapped you in the face.

“_______? Are you okay? What are you doing out here? God, you’re freezing.”

There are hands on your cheeks. Warm ones. Warm hands in the middle of Arctic weather. And if you close your eyes long enough, you can almost picture home.

“Chanyeol, I’m cold.”

His hands slip from your cheeks and you hear the unzipping of his jacket, crunching of the snow, and then there’s fabric being wrapped around your neck.

You open your eyes, instantly regretting it after finding Chanyeol standing closer than before. While he’s focused on burrowing you underneath his scarf, you take in the bits of snow nestled in his bright hair and the urgency in his movements.

The deep line of worry across his forehead.

You don’t know what to make of this. You don’t know what to make of anything.

All you know is that you have to tell him something.

Anything.

“Let’s get you back inside.”

He’s tugging at your arm, and when you don’t respond, his hold slips to your wrist and he forces you to stumble after him.

He’s not asking any questions.

Which worries you more than the cold piercing into your skin.

“Chanyeol.”

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before you start developing frost bite, but I don’t think we’re too far from the cabin. We’ll make it.”

That all sounds great and relieving but it’s not exactly why you called him in the first place.

“Chanyeol.”

“We should really pick up the pace, though. Just in case I’m wrong about where we are and we both end up-“

“Yeol.”

That seems to quiet him.

He slows his pace but doesn’t stop. You still consider it a small victory as his ears flare a hint of pink at his newly birthed nickname, and you feel yourself flush too. You aren’t concerned with that because your whole face is too frozen to show a hint of color anymore.

It’s just the embarrassed feeling that lingers.

That’s not stopping you.

You need to say this before you get back to the cabin and the magic of being alone and somewhat courageous out here begins to wear off.

“In sophomore year, my favorite instrument was the guitar.” you feel his grip on your wrist loosen which means he’s finally listening. You sniff and breathe out, watching your breathe puff out in a white cloud before disappearing into the fog surrounding the two of you like a heavy cloak. “And then I went out with Yixing.”

Chanyeol stops so suddenly you nearly walk straight into him.

He turns to face you, and as soon as he does you launch into an unpracticed narration of a story you haven’t told in a while and count down the minutes you have left before you really need to book it back indoors and possibly hide forever.

“I was ignorant to music until I heard him one day in the practice room, strumming some random song I wasn’t familiar with, and I don’t know why I stayed but I did until the very end of my lunch period and he looked up past the glass on the door straight into my eyes after the song ended. I knew I loved him the moment he sang to me that same song in front of the whole student council.”

Chanyeol’s eyes have gotten so wide his whole pupils are showing.

“People said things, of course. We broke the sacrilegious rule of seniors exclusively dating seniors. But that didn’t matter. I didn’t care as long as we were together. What really mattered was that he scored a scholarship in Europe and he was bound to leave the day after his graduation.”

You’ve started shaking and it isn’t from the cold.

Chanyeol reaches out towards your shivering fingers, hesitates, then stuffs his awkward hands in his pockets as a final resolution, and you mirror his position as you bite back tears.

“He gave me a note through his music player. Some sort of voice note on why he didn’t want to leave. But you see, I knew he had to. I wasn’t worth a promising future music career. There was so much waiting for him over there, but with me, he’d forever be stuck over here. I wanted to be selfish and that thought scared me.”

You’re almost done here. It’s obvious the ending sounds near and Chanyeol knows it too. He’s looking at you as if the world is falling. You’re glad the crisp, cruel air dries your eyes and snatches any chances of tears trickling down.  

“The last thing I heard from him was that he loved me. And the last thing I told him was goodbye.”

There’s a hole in this story.

Not a fairytale ending or a solution, but an important puzzle piece that you’ve missed. One that’s been there all along, hidden, unknown until you heard the gentle strings of the guitar again two years later.

And that single piece throws you off kilter. Rearranging everything else in a whole different picture.

What terrifies you the most is that it’s standing right in front of you.

“Was it, though?” Chanyeol’s voice has gone quiet in a way that you recognize because that’s what people sound like when they’re shattered. “Was it really a goodbye?”

Yixing and Chanyeol are friends.  

You weren’t aware of this and from the looks of it, neither was he, which means that Yixing has kept more secrets than you realize and maybe Chanyeol knows more than what you give him credit for.

You want to call it unfair that one day, you’re still stuck trying to get over the image of your first love and then in the next, he’s tugging at your heart again but it’s refusing to follow. Not anymore. There’s a new reason behind the pounding in your chest and you hadn’t expected to identify its source in the middle of nowhere.

Where it’s just you and the boy who’s asking if you’re willing to give the past a second chance.

“I don’t know.”

Chanyeol nods in slow motion, like he’s confirmed something scientifically. His feet are heavy when he turns, his boots driving deep into the snow, and you want to follow him and ask why he’s trying to solve a mystery that you feel is only a misunderstanding.

That would’ve been easier to do if you hadn’t seen him bite his lower lip before shutting you out.

He’s not the only one who’s made a breakthrough.

It doesn’t hit you suddenly, but it settles in as slowly as Chanyeol is trudging away. The image of Yixing trapping you that day against the shelves flashes through your memory, and you faintly remember closing your eyes, feeling tender lips that are certainly not Yixing’s.

You know how his mouth fits against yours already. You’ve always known.

The moment you closed your eyes and imagined someone else was a different story. Nowadays, you wish you never have to close them because there’s only one thing that enters your mind and it has nothing to do with Yixing.

Instead, it has everything to do with his friend, and what it would be like to melt against him.

Today - Jaebum

September 22, 2017

Contrary to what they say in trashy teen magazines, first love doesn’t always begin with a heart fluttering, innocent and graceful encounter. You feel obligated to correct that misleading piece of information. You almost mark it out with your pen, correcting the writer’s mistake, but then you remember that you’re not supposed to be the critic here.

You’re supposed to be searching for inspiration. Finding a subject for your next article. You’ve sat in this God-knows-where cafe for an hour, pouring over a pile of publications, desperate to find something. Blindly reaching for an unborn idea.

“Your stories have become bland.” Mark, your editor and usually kind companion, had delivered an uppercut punch before he even finished reading your last feature article. His blatant criticism shocked you. Not once has he ever complained about your writing. It quickly became a quest to please him again.

“This writing no longer sounds like you. Are you even enjoying this anymore?”

It’s not that you’ve lost interest. It’s just that sometimes, you find yourself holding back.  

“Write me something compelling and don’t even think of that promotion until you win me over.”

You didn’t think he was cruel enough to hang the managing editor title over your head. Additionally, he had struck a chord by sneaking in several romance pieces in your resources pile.

You get the hint.

In fairness, there used to be a time when you would eagerly compose romantic writings and hold on to love stories as if they were your own. Your former self embraced romance and took any risk that came your way. That was before he taught you to think twice. He taught you the reality to false beliefs. He taught you everything you know today.

These days, you’ve learned to choose your battles. Today, you find yourself surrendering to the nearly forgotten memories. As you read further down the advice column on first loves, clearly written by a young and inexperienced writer, you’re brought back to the first time you ever gave your heart away.

The very first meeting. When it was nowhere near how the fairytales described it, or how you imagined the love of your life would come to you.  

Because the weather is fair, because Mark is telling you to, because you don’t have much choice, you allow yourself to remember.

Just one last time.

~~~

September 21, 2013

The crash happens while you’re attempting to merge lanes.

You swear you made sure to look, not once but thrice, gauging the blurred lights on your side mirror and passing in front of the car that had seemed far away enough. You could say it was because of the rain. You could say that the pressure overcame you, that you were racing against the passing time that refused to wait for you.

A minute ago, you’d been accelerating without fear of the wet roads, pleading that you make it in time for your first internship. A minute later, you’re hearing the screech of metal and your body is being jolted forward. You don’t realize your car has lost control until you feel the wheels under you skidding sideways to a stop, just missing the guard rail, your life quite literally flashing before your eyes in an instant.

You find your hands shaking when you glance up at yourself through the crooked rearview mirror.

Except for your flushed cheeks, there are no signs of injury. No blood. All limbs intact.

The storm of honking behind you brings you back to your senses.  

“Are you fucking crazy?”

The driver of the other car is knocking on your window.

Drenched in rain, he has his phone pressed against his ear, probably calling for the police. Instead of worry, anger lines his face like the crack of thunderbolt.

His rude shouting somehow dissolves your fear and aggravates you, while a part of you admits that you’re mostly at fault. But your swelled up pride wins out over admitting your faults. The idea of losing even such a trivial and obvious battle as this one is utterly humiliating and embarrassing for you.

Especially since you just made a rookie mistake by trying to rush to work.

At least you’re willing to admit that you’re about to do something incredibly stupid.

Instead of rolling down the window and apologizing profusely or trading insurance information like what you’re generally supposed to do after a crash, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out into the rain.  

The guy is in mid sentence on his phone--something about giving directions and reporting a crash caused by ‘a dumb bitch’--when you slam your door closed and look up at him with blazing eyes.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that the idea of courtesy died with the beginning of your very existence.” you shout over the roar of the storm, the cars whizzing by, and the driver’s angry conversation over the line.

He stops yelling into his phone for a moment, jaw dropping open at your brazenness. You can see that he’s pissed, absolutely insulted, and you can already tell what kind of response he has in store for you.

“What did you just say to me?”

He steps forward with a threatening glare, puncturing your personal bubble until your back hits the side of your car. From up close, you can tell that he’s young, maybe around the same age as you. The sharp angles on his face create an illusion of older age. You know better than to be fooled, because a proper adult wouldn’t choose to wear ripped jeans on a rainy day or drive at sixty miles in a forty zone. A proper adult wouldn’t stand in the rain long enough just to fight a reckless girl and get their clothes soaked.

You’re aware of all this, yet you’re still fanning the flames.

“It’s shitty enough that I’m late for my internship. But to get hit by a self absorbed asshole? I must’ve murdered a whole town in my past life.”

“Are you kidding?” the guy scoffs, pounding his hand against your car. “I think you’re forgetting who fucking swerved into my lane without even thinking about it!”

“If you care to know, I checked three full times and saw a clear road!”

“Well damn then, let me call an eye doctor for your blind ass while I’m at it!”

“My ‘blind ass’ happened to keep your speeding ass in check!”

“Fuck me, you’re one to talk!”

“I may have lost a very important job opportunity because of you!”

“And because of you, my boss is going to slit my throat once he finds out that I wrecked his company’s car!”

You’re close to throwing fists by the time the police and ambulance arrive. You only break apart when an officer threatens to arrest the both of you if you don’t stop disturbing the peace. This makes no sense to you as the thunderous sky and building traffic are nowhere close to peaceful, but you step back and allow yourself to get examined by the paramedics.

On the other hand, the driver that had hit you is preoccupied with inspecting his car, running his fingers over the dent on his hood somberly as if he’d just lost a precious member of his family. Obviously, he has more concern for his vehicle than an actual person.

“Insolent prick.” you mutter under your breath when he later joins you in the back of the towing truck.

“I heard that.” he hisses back, the driver next to you shifting uncomfortably at your exchange of hostilities.

It takes hours to settle your dispute and walk away as calmly as you can with your car totaled and many dollars to spend. You contact the internship (Mark)

You hadn’t even bothered to learn his name.

[thedoctorvie]

Another questionnaire

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

Pffft, more milk of course. What kind of uncivilized barbarian uses more cereal than milk?

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

Depends on the coldness of air. Sometimes, if the winter mood is right.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

Toilet paper; other, smaller books.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

Coffee: Milk and a bit sugar. Tea: Nothing besides tea.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

Don't know. Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

6: do you keep plants?

Yes, artificial ones. Those never fail me.

7: do you name your plants?

Nope. I'm not THAT crazy... yet...

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

I don't have enough mastery over any artistic medium to adequately express anything inside me.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Yep.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Left/right side alternating, most of the time.

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

Wait, what? Which friends?

12: what’s your favorite planet?

Venus. 460 degrees celsius, sulfuric acid rain, active volcanism, a hundred times higher atmospheric pressure than earth... exactly my kind of planet.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

The astonishing and heartwarming reactions to an important facebook post of mine.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

Since my girlfriend is my best friend and we live in a (somewhat) old flat in a big city... not very different than now ;)

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

One from google: Neptune radiates more heat than it gets from the sun. One from me: Alcohol has been found in some galactic nebulae.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

Penne carbonara.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Something appropriately futuristic. Don't know what the cyberfashion of our future looks like.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

Again, which friends? But i once didn't remember the appropriate name of a wire whisk and called it something very funny (which, unfortunately, can't be translated to english)

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

Nope.

20: what’s your favorite eye color? Green.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

My bags from the medical university of vienna.

22: are you a morning person?

Ahahahahahahaha, no.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Coding, reading, playing computer games.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

No, and i guess there never will be.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Broken into? I'm not that type of criminal ;)

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

Currently cheap brown synthetic leather boots from a discount store.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

Apple.

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunset.

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

My girlfriend, when her brain just quits and does something very irrational.

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Oh yes.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I like socks, but not white ones. I like my socks systematically ordered. Socks are life to me, since they guard my feet from unwelcome encounters with... *shudder*... nature.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Why all those "friends"-questions? Seriously, i can't think of any interesting story with above parameters.

33: what’s your fave pastry?

I am no big fan of pastry. Maybe buns?

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

It is a very old teddy bear. His name is teddy bear. It looks a bit like Mr. Beans' teddy.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

Whats a stationary pen? I mostly write with boring black stabilos.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Good question. Kai Tracid?

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

Both.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

I could write a book about it. But one of the most important is when people hurt other people.

39: what color do you wear the most?

Pitch black like my heart.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I don't own much jewelry except of my engagement ring. You can imagine its story and meaning.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

The one i am currently reading, roughly translated: "Manual of chip cards"

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

No, i don't.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

My girlfriend, while smoking in the courtyard of our residential building.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

That was... well... the last time... lets say... ehm... wait...

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

Depends on the situation.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

Unfortunately, i can't translate it into english, but i will give it in german: "Haben Sie Milch?" - "Ja, fettarme." - "Das sehe ich, aber haben Sie auch Milch?"

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Insects.

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

It was being abducted by aliens (seriously!). I don't know what my biggest fear today is.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I didn't buy any CDs or records in the last few years. The last one i bought a long time ago was some album from The Vision Bleak.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

Books.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

I usually don't have strong connections between persons and music, but one of the strongest is between a friend of mine and Ashbury Heights - Spiders.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

I... don't know. I don't remember any in particular.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

Rocky horror picture show: Yes, i liked it and its crazyness. Pulp fiction: Yes, its ok, but very overrated.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

My girlfriend.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

Er... don't know, argue it?

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

Intelligence, kindness, individualism, openness, tolerance, very broad interests, insatiable curiosity

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

It made me feel bored (sorry!). I didn't dramatically reenact anything.

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

The what and who? What the heck are you talking (writing?) about?

59: what’s your favorite myth?

The one of diarrhea god of some tropical island (i am NOT kidding, it really is a myth! It is from some book about world mythology)

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

I never read any good poetry.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

The stupidest i ever received where non-fitting (but expensive) clothes. The stupidest i've ever given? No idea.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

Nope, through my veins runs coca cola.

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

Well, it's kind of a mess, but i try to organize them.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Black (because it is night)

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

Yeah, but i don't know if i get along with her as good as back then.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

Wild and untamed.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

Like i am in the right place where i can feel good (strange, i know).

68: what’s winter like where you live?

Chaotic. Sometimes warm, sometimes cold, often in-between.

69: what are your favorite board games?

Monopoly, chess.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

No.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Black tea.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

No, i just forget it.

73: what are some of your worst habits?

Good question... smoking?

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

A red-headed, smart, wild cat.

75: tell us about your pets!

You think cats are strange and crazy? You don't know mine.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

God, yes... too much.

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Yellow.

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

FANclub! I LOVE em!!!

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Being there for me.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

Greyish, my girlfriend made me a portal bedroom for my birthday. Wait, can i revise question 79?

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

Re-emission of electromagnetic field waves, outside the thermal spectrum of usual chemical reactions.

82: are/were you good in school?

No, i didn't want to be.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

I liked the one on Monolith - Subsystem, don't know why.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

Yes, an aesculapian staff.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

Yes, i especially like star wars comics.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

What the fuck is a concept album?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Good question. All Star Wars-movies. 2001 - a space odyssey.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

3D-generated arts (see for example https://blendpolis.de/forum/kunst/galerie)

89: are you close to your parents?

Yes, kinda. But i am more adult then they are.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

Well i like Berlin very much. People there seem to be much more open and uncomplicated than in vienna.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

I don't know, i don't plan anything at the moment.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

Drown it in ALL the cheese!!

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

Long, open and flowing.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

A fellow student of mine.

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Preparing the silvester party at our home.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

I have activated automatic updates.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

ISTJ or INTJ, gemini, slytherin.

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

A loooooong time ago, and yes, i enjoyed it.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Schalldruck - Turntable Junky (The Crow Remix) ASP - Krabat Weird Al Yankovic - White & Nerdy Zeromancer - Doctor Online Robert Palmer - Bad Case Of Loving You Eluviete - Omnos Crazy Town - Butterfly Faun - Tanz mit mir