#unfinished and old one unfortunately

[kinokoshoujoart]

oops all rock (springtime edition)

i’ll be able to draw digitally again soon! ;w; in the meantime i’ve been scribbling a lot on paper…

could not wait for Soon, so i resorted to coloring it using the markup tool in default iphone photos app (don’t do that ever again)

[good--merits-accumulated]

i fear i am endlessly predictable (writing new dps au which is once again fantasy with Arthurian elements)

[zecoritheweirdone]

Hi just found the little comic you did for mystery skulls! it looks super amazing, I haven't thought of something like it before. I hope you continue it its awesome.

i'm glad you liked it!!! i do hope to continue it as well,,, tho prolly not in comic form, cuz that was hell on my wrist,, dkdndkdn. only thing stopping me from writing it rn, aside from lack of motivation(curse you adhd),, is the fact i haven't fully plotted things out yet. but once i do,, i'll try my best to write it out!!

[concerto-roblox]

i can't believe there's a thriving the next step editing community on tiktok 12 year old me is quaking

[mooooonnnzz]

hiii, saw request is still open and just finished reading forwards beckon rebound and bawled my eyes out.

so i was wondering if you could maybe make something with ford having a kid (reader) who's like really young when he got pushed into the portal and stanley raising reader and reader reminds stanley so much of ford when they were younger and is a nerd like their old man it hurts stanley so much to see the resemblance.

Dream About Me

Platonic!Stanley Pines x Child!Reader

ᰔ 1,8k words!

ᰔ MULLET STANLEYY!!!

ᰔ slight angst? or heavy angst? it's just overall sad really depends on the person

ᰔ gender neutral reader!

ᰔ request are open!

𐒘𝛠 When Stan took you in, he never thought how painful it would be to see all Ford’s quirks and traits shine in you. Seeing his smile on your face made it really hard for him to continue on with his day without breaking down into violent sobs, especially freshly after Stan had accidentally pushed Ford into the portal. Another wound to the heart was the additional finger on each of your hands. He hadn’t noticed until one day during dinner when you were sitting in front of him, coloring within the lines of the coloring book he had gotten you days prior. Your hand was splayed across the page, hand pressing down on the other side of the page to keep it from closing it on you. His eyes brushed past your hand, disregarding the six finger, just like he always did with Ford when his eyes shot back to your fingers, eyes widening upon seeing the extra appendage. He would’ve choked on his food if he didn’t swallow it moments before. 

𐒘𝛠 “Are you looking at my extra finger?” Your fingers curled inwards on instinct, nuzzling them into your palm. “Dad told me to never be ashamed of my extra finger.” You tell him, which sounded more of you trying to reassure yourself than anything. “Did he really?” A wistful smile pulls at his lips, his eyes distantly looking down at his plate. “Yeah. He said that it’s a gift. We both shared our weirdness together.” Your other hand that was holding the crayon was now wrapped in your other hand, the crayon discarded on top of the unfinished page. Stan’s teeth snagged on his bottom lip. This was harder than he thought. “And you-you should treat it like one, k-kid. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He had tried coming off as stern, but the way he fumbled over his words and how his voice cracked in all the wrong places made it lose its whole empowering purpose. But you managed to get the message. A smile all too similar for Stan’s liking shown on your face. “Do you have an extra finger, Uncle Stan?” You brought your six fingered hand in front of his face, wiggling them wildly. “Unfortunately, I do not.” He pressed his palm against yours, his large hand completely dwarfing yours. “Ah! Five fingers!” You retract your hand away from Stan’s, wide eyes never leaving his five fingers. “I have actually never seen five fingers before!” You comment, flicking his fingers. “Have ya never seen another person that isn’t your dad?” Stan initially meant it as a lighthearted joke, but the way you sheepishly looked down to the ground told him very clearly that Ford had never taken you out of this house. ”Maybe once or twice when I was a baby?” You shrug. “He’s been so busy with everything else he left me to myself.” Sounds just like Ford. He hopes you don’t inhabit that from him. 

𐒘𝛠 Your insatiable curiosity was full force. Everything always needs to have a reason or explanation, and if not, you would forge a plausible reasoning that ties your question into a nice little answer. Seeing this in a different perspective really rattled through Stan. He had found this side of Ford when they were younger plenty annoying, always wondering why his brother couldn’t leave things be, but seeing you do it was a messy mix of bittersweet and gut churning. Hearing you ask all the same questions Ford had asked them when they were younger sent him in for a loop. How could you be so eerily alike to him? Even the passionate twinkle in his eye had passed down onto you. “Uncle Stan!” You padded over to him, book in hand with messy scrambles of your writing. “Look what I discovered!” Stan forced a smile onto his face, stomach twisting into vicious knots. “What did ya find, kiddo?” You eagerly nod your head as you spoke with the same vigor and passion Ford had all those years ago and shoved your book into his lap. Looking down at your book had some semblance of Ford’s cursive writing, but it had seemed that it was a mix of his and Ford’s. “This is really nice, kiddo.” He strained out, rapidly blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall out. “So you believe me? You believe my theories?” You rambled out, oblivious to Stan’s fighting battle with his emotions. “Yes, kiddo.” He pushes himself off the couch, running a hand through his hair. “I need a m-moment. Gotta check on this mullet.” He leaves with that and you’re left wondering what you did wrong. 

𐒘𝛠 When you were about twelve years old, Stan had caught you squinting at him from afar, the same way Ford would look at him without his glasses—he didn’t mean to draw everything back to Ford, you just were an exact carbon copy of him, unfortunately for him. So he conducted an at home experiment where he stood far away from you, holding up a sign with words that looked like a blended mush to you. That was enough to prove to Stan and you that you needed glasses. Getting a pair of frames sent Stan in for a loop. As if you didn’t act enough like Ford, now you had glasses that made Stan’s stomach drop whenever he looked at you. “How do I look?” You smile at Stan, the comically large glasses sliding down your nose. “Maybe we should get smaller ones?” Stan suggested, plucking the frames off your face and setting them back on the display stand. His eyes abruptly landed on ones that looked exactly like Ford’s glasses when he was about your age. He cleared his throat, shaking him out of that weird trance and ambling on to more of the display cabinets with glasses. “What about these!” He turns around and when his eyes lock on you, his mouth runs dry. “A-Are ya sure you want those?” You scamper over to the mirror, a small gasp leaving you. “I look like Dad.” You whisper. Confliction swimming in your eyes. “You don’t have to keep em—“ You wave him off. “It’s okay, Uncle Stan. I-I think it keeps his memory alive, right?” Stan swallows, nodding slowly. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

𐒘𝛠 Staring at yourself in the mirror, you flickered your eyes back and forth to a polaroid photo of Ford to yourself in the mirror. There was some resemblance. Especially with you wearing your glasses. It made sense why Stan couldn’t really keep a straight face whenever he talked or even looked at you. You internally fought with yourself, jumping back and forth to liking the fact that you looked like Ford or to hating the fact that you do. You had his eye shape, his nose, his smile, the extra finger, even the stupid need to have glasses. You have his mannerisms, the way you speak is a lot like how he talked when he was your age–told to you by Stan, and so much more that you couldn’t dwell into before you’d burst out into tears. It was both a blessing and a curse. A worn out sigh leaves you, brain spinning and pounding harshly against your skull. This wasn’t going to lead you anywhere. Picking at your features and wishing that you didn’t have them wasn’t going to be beneficial for anyone. You pocket the photo and swing the door open to see Stan right in front of you currently in the process of opening the door. “Oh!” You step back and Stan jolts up. “I didn’t know you were in there, kiddo. I’m sorry.” A sheepish hand rubs his neck. “It’s okay. I was leaving anyway.” You sadly smiled at him, stepping out of the bathroom. Stan raises an eyebrow, catching the melancholy look in your eyes. “You doin’ alright?” You stop in your tracks, hand ghosting the pocket where the photo of Ford was in. “I-,.” The words die in your throat when you notice the concerned look in his eyes. You didn’t want to put any more weight onto his shoulders.  “I’m alright. Thanks Uncle Stan.” Stan looks at you hesitantly before nodding to himself, bidding you a quick goodbye. “You can tell me anything, just lettin’ ya know.” He lastly says, closing the door, leaving you to your thoughts in the silent hallway. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get the guts to truly tell Stan how you feel. 

𐒘𝛠 As the years go by, Stan had found himself breaking out of his habits of relating you to Ford and saw you as your own person. But there would be times where he would slip up back into his old ways and meddle in his mind. You had adopted a few of Ford’s mannerisms, from the way he spoke to how he fidgeted, you had it all. He’d catch glimpses of Ford whenever he would see your pinched concentrated face. Sometimes you’d walk into the lab to show him all the theories you thought of to fix the portal and Stan would just look at you, guilt and despair heavy on his expression. You would have to awkwardly bring him back and repeat everything you had just said to him. “I’m sorry that I keep reminding you of him.” You fidget with your spinny chair, softly swaying from side to side to ease your anxiety. “It’s not your fault. I promise.” He kneels down beside you, patting your shoulder reassuringly. A moment of silence passes before you turn your head over to look at him. “Sometimes I think you’re going to up and leave because I act like him sometimes.” Stan has had hard times coming to terms with you being so alike to his lost twin. Nights he’d spent crying on his bed, wondering if this is all worth the struggle. There’s times where he couldn’t even look at you without being choked up in his own cries. He wasn’t emotionally stable enough for this and he was doubting his capabilities of taking care of you. But alongside pain, you also brought him joy, you gave him a reason to wake up in the mornings, to smile, to laugh. Stan takes a shaky breath in. “Kid, I’m gonna be honest with ya. It’s been hard, extremely hard. I’m not gonna sit here and tell ya that it’s been all sunshine and rainbows, because it hasn’t. But what I can say is that I have been getting better, with the whole Ford thing. Sometimes it comes back like a slap on the face and I’m left scramblin’ but, at the end of the day, you have shined so brightly and shown me how incredible you are, just as yourself. And no matter how hard it gets, I’ma stay right by your side.” Wrapping him in a bone tight hug, you let out a relieved sob. “Thank you,” you cry out. Stan pats your back soothingly. “You’re also my kid now. Forever imprinted on me. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed!!

just wanted to share that i had the worst food poisoning ever these past few days

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic fic recs part 2!

Hello again! I'm back with more fic recs! You can find the first post here. It has been updated to reflect what unfinished works have been finished. As always, be respectful of the authors and thank them for their work! Happy reading!

Finished

Killer Ex

Alastor and Vox used to date. At the scene of one of his latest crimes, Alastor finds something of Vox's. He pays his old flame a visit.

your vice is a locked room

I like this one a lot! It has some really funny one liners. Alastor's rut hits him and he finds he can't get Vox off his mind. He seeks Vox out and they clash together.

>Run Vox.EXE

I love the portrayal of the programs and the idea of Vox using programs to supplement himself. When Alastor disappeared, Vox became more reliant on his programs. Now that he's back, Alastor hates Vox's programs and wants for his friend to stop hiding behind them.

Animal Urges and Indulgences AND Aggression and Vivisection

These two pieces are connected and delightfully dark! Vox likes to perform ritual dissections for Alastor. Alastor finds it to be the only thing that arouses him enough for sex. They both do not waste the opportunity to enjoy the moment.

And You Know, It's Cause You're Beautiful

Alastor gets dosed with love potion and seeks Vox out for some relief. They have a wonderful night together.

Shall We Begin

Alastor uses his magic to connect to Vox's nervous system and fuck him. This piece is romantically one-sided.

What Makes You So Special?

This one's cute and sweet! The Vees collaborate with Asmodeus to open an Ozzie's in Pride. Alastor sings a song that finds both Vox and Alastor tangled in each other's arms at the end of the night.

Radiostatic Trilogy

Now I know this title is unassuming, but this series is very good! Alastor goes into heat while live on air. Vox was waiting for him to finish his broadcast and ends up helping him through his heat.

I'm Not A Saint (But I Could Be If I Tried)

Vox sacrificed himself to save Alastor and ended up in Heaven. Unfortunately for Heaven, he's not interested in being a perfect angel when his love is down below.

i want your violence, your silent sedation

Years ago, Vox killed Alastor on live television. Except that he didn't-he kept Alastor alive and dependent on him with no one the wiser.

Coal Black Heart

Vox has a meeting with Valentino and Alastor gets possessive. It ends poorly for them both.

Territory dispute

Alastor set a firm rule years ago when he became an overlord-no deer sinners were allowed in Pentagram City, so why is there one working at Vee Tower?

Error 404: Radio Demon Not Found

Years ago, Alastor made a website for his radio show. Vox finds it and helps bring him into the 21st century.

Calculated Risk

Alastor and Vox get drunk one night and Vox finally gives in to the desire to make Alastor his. With the morning comes regret and an unexpected confession that changes everything. Note: This fic contains dubious consent that seems to be noncon at first!

Happy Anniversary

Vox has a very special surprise for Alastor for their anniversary. Alastor is extremely touched by Vox's thoughtfulness.

Roasted Venison Haunch

Alastor decides to make venison for Vox. Vox is enjoying the time together, especially when he can be a little shit about it.

Late Night Partner

Alastor goes to his favorite bar and finds an enterprising young demon there waiting for him.

Fetch Quest

Alastor contracts I.M.P. to go to IKEA to find a blahaj for Vox's birthday.

Escort Mission

After Alastor's high praise of I.M.P.'s services, Vox contracts them to escort them on an anniversary dinner to Ozzie's.

How do you want your Radio Demon?

Valentino sets up a special night for Vox with one of his hookers. It's everything and yet nothing like what Vox really wants.

You took me to Hell, too

After being rejected by Alastor, Vox goes to a bar to drink away his sorrows. A freshly dead Velvette makes his acquaintance.

you get me closer to god

Alastor and Vox try out hypnotism in the bedroom.

You're on the Air

This one is by the beloved rillyrillo, author of the Safe with Me series! This piece is a short and sweet human AU. Alastor hosts a live podcast/radio show and allows time for callers to ask him questions. Vox calls in regularly.

long run the fox

An adorable little regency AU! Alastor is an eligible bachelor who is tired of the season's balls. His mother engages him in a wager to find at least a companion of some sort if he does not want to marry. Alastor is certain he'll win until he meets a peculiar gentleman by the name of Vox.

Signals Lost and Found

This series is a sequel to the fic Competing Frequencies, which I have not read. However, the series stands up really well by itself and has an excellent take on the consequences of Alastor's fight with Adam. Charlie hosts an activity where the residents have to make a list of people they have put before themselves. Alastor finds himself putting Vox on that list much to his chagrin.

Lady's First

This is also by princeliest, author of the 666! series and just as delightfully sexy! Alastor finally caves to Vox's little jokes and goads about them having sex together.

Home Again

This piece is my work! Alastor returns to Pentagram City after his absence and reconnects with both Rosie and Vox.

Backwards Evolution

Vox wakes up to find his head replaced back to the model he fell into Hell with. To make matters worse, while he adjusts he's at the mercy of Alastor who seems to want to play some perverse version of house with him. Now a series!

Mixed Signals

This one's a hilarious sort of crack fic. Alastor and Vox fight with their radio waves and end up accidentally impregnating Alastor. Now, Alastor and Vox must navigate their fraught relationship as the embryo saps away at Alastor's strength.

Empathia

When Alastor disappeared seven years ago, Vox ripped out his own heart and put it in a box. In his place, Vox.exe took control. Alastor notices the drastic changes in Vox's behavior and decides to uncover the root cause.

Fully Booked

This is an ABO fic that plays somewhat into the dynamics. Alastor desperately wants a child of his own so he makes a deal that will make him fertile and decides that Vox is the ideal partner for a strong child. Vox would just really like Alastor to stop fucking around and help him through his heat, goddammit.

Unfinished

Every Madman Has His Vice

This one has a really unique premise that I am enjoying immensely! Seven years ago, Alastor tore Vox's chest open and left him for dead. Now, Vox is back, and helping Charlie Morningstar with her new project, the Hazbin Hotel. What happened while he was gone? And how will Alastor react now that Vox has come back to life?

Magnolias Grow Best with Entertainment

Alastor is an omega and Vox is an alpha hopelessly pining after him. He decides to try and court Alastor-Alastor takes it entirely the wrong way.

Audio and Video

Alastor and Vox were business partners before Alastor disappeared. When he comes back, he immediately ropes Vox into helping him with the hotel. Shenanigans ensue.

A Deer Watcher's Odyssey

This one's fun and cute! Vox decides he's going to destroy Alastor emotionally by instigating a romantic relationship with him. Except, perhaps his actions are not motivated entirely by hate. Alastor finds himself curious and flattered as he becomes the object of a secret admirer's affection.

No Audience to Perform For

I love the way this is written! The interactions between Vox and Alastor feel very accurate! During the next extermination, Angelic Security fails astronomically and Vox suffers the consequences. Only, somehow, he's still alive, and trapped in Alastor's room.

Dapple Rose

This one explores an interesting premise of Alastor being the one obssessed with Vox! Vox and Valentino come to the hotel to discuss a business proposal with Charlie. Alastor takes this as an opportunity to secure Vox-the one that got away-back under his wing. Vox does not take it well.

Once Bitten, Back for More

This is written by prince-liest, and they wrote the 666! series so you know this is good! Vox has been following a topside crime podcast for years when the host suddenly dies. Vox wastes no time in finding him and trying to make him a friend, and possibly more. Alastor would just like something to make sense down here and for the TV man to maybe be a little less creepy.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke

If you liked the Safe with Me series, this is by the same author, rillyrillo! Vox's heat suppressants stop working because he's built up too much of a tolerance. In a panic, he contacts the only person in Hell that knows he's an omega. Alastor has never been affected by those base urges, except now Vox is working through 50 years of heat suppression and doing it in Alastor's very own bed.

Contested

Alastor contests his contract and wins his freedom. However, his freedom is still tied to the paper and he must find a way to properly dissolve his contract. Vox just wants to help his old partner out of whatever mess he's created.

Taming the Deer

Velvette and Valentino decide that the best next thing is to finally kill the Radio Demon. Vox can't go through with it. Instead, he kidnaps Alastor and attempts to woo him. Alastor is less than impressed.

His Chains

This is an intriguing take on their simultaneous respect and disdain for each other. Alastor's soul is sent for auction and Vox can't pass up the opportunity. Alastor dreads what his new dealer will put him through but Vox surprises him.

A Bad Deal

Please be advised, this fic involves rape. In an attempt to cheat Vox, Alastor offers his soul in a deal. His dealer takes offense and releases him from their contract, forcing him into the deal with Vox. This one is one-sided, wherein Vox takes what he wants and Alastor suffers for it. However, it is very well written and compelling!

Raw End of the Deal

Please be advised, this fic involves rape. Alastor's dealer has always taken a sick sort of satisfaction in using his tentacles against him. With the destruction of his microphone stand, Alastor finds himself repeatedly "encouraged" to find a way to fix it. Vox witnesses one of these moments and decides to take advantage.

Deals Are Made to Be Broken

Years ago, Vox accidentally sealed himself and Alastor into a terrible pact and ended their friendship. Now, with Alastor's return, the two go through the growing pains of dealing with the fallout of that night.

A Gentle Touch

If you liked Addicted, check this fic out! It's written by the same author, dancingdog! A recently deceased Alastor is tricked into selling his soul and tasked with bringing other overlords to a mysterious bookshop. One night, he decides to go after Vox. Vox manages to impress him and escapes with his life and a burning curiosity for who the Radio Demon really is.

The Pictures Came and Broke Your Heart

After Alastor's fight with Adam, Vox seeks him out and they end up having sex. Angel catches it all on the hotel's camera feed as he battles his late night insomnia. With his new blackmail material, he demands Alastor give him all the juicy details and accidentally forces Alastor to confront his own feelings for the first time in decades.

candlelight

Heaven decides to implement a test of sorts to gauge if sinners really can change. This test is to put two well known rivals together into the same living space for an indeterminate amount of time. Vox and Alastor find themselves slipping back into old routines as they spend more time around each other.

For my friends who liked the last post, I hope this finds you!

@rae-does-stuff, @sassy-radio-hazbin-queen, @motherarts, @freakshowmemories, @bratpfanne-of-doom, @superpersonpatroleclipse , @nocakesformissedith , @coins-that-never-land , @matrixbearer2024 , @dancingafterdark ,@pedi-bug , @starlightthedaydreamer , @unnecessarilysalty , @morallygreysoul, @hazbinsillynight , @saml27 , @floral-moon-light , @therealangeldust69 , @speedyvoidthing , @glassrosepen , @monstrousvoice , @legreenorange, @thedragonforest , @mystudentclodeagle , @tarotthrawn , @imdoned, @alice-on-elm-street , @camillekarnage , @dancingthere , @spinning-all-your-silk , @lucifer-morn-666 , @mysterybooks-world , @sqwdkllr , @maskmasters , @murasakirose080 ,@cpyclopse , @likzenip , @hiddlydiddly , @phoenixdemonqueen , @alice-after-dark , @fallenemma , @pinkpoffin80-blog , @pro-crastinator14 , @marsbabysblog , @dible-png , @imma-potatoo , @that-one-fangirl123 , @ratpink , @webstertome , @tigersharktheautisticseawing , @i-want-more-coffee , @diequeeria , @frenchmacaroni , @idsrv2bleed , @flyingcheeseburgerfromvenus , @taemakesart , @av0ryx22 , @samm-w4s-hereee , @classystudentmiracleus , @realmofvoxtv , @huzoz , @queenbee5436 , @ok-average24 , @bookworm-blogs , @thesexydancingcrepe , @yurisakaki13 , @animefanboy48 , @sw5t , @lilly3683 , @hiemaldesirae , @ghosttai , @nornpai , @goodusernamepending , @sillysimplysilky , @somebody-in-this-world-who-lives , @whimsicalmacabre , @sassycandypoetry , @kamdensl , @morninvio , @twyisontheline , @tristala , @morfanerina , @achondrit3 , @yourlocalpurplelover , @mcarrefour , @enderianpearlz , @hardhideoutcollector , @motherarts , @witchtig

[autisticlancemcclain]

hey guys.

so my grandfather passed earlier this evening, after some time in palliative care. this has put a shit ton of stress on my family. i'm also desperately trying to chug my way through my overloaded final semester of undergrad, plus work, plus trying to figure out next year's living situation and finances. i'm overloaded. i'm stressed.

and, unfortunately, over the past little bit, this account has gone from stress relieving, to neutral, to stress inducing, and i just to not have the space for that right now.

i'm heartbroken about it, to be honest. for two years i have poured my entire heart and soul into this. it has taken up every inch of my free time. i spent all my time thinking about it, i put all my creative energy here. not only did this account make me truly, genuinely happy, but i made a lot of friends and had a lot of fun. it hasn't been that place of joy for me for a while now, but i was keeping up, anyway, because i'm so proud of all i've managed here and i don't want to let go, i don't want to move on.

however, i need a break. a long one.

i have been in and out of the voltron fandom since i was 13 years old. 2022-2023 has been the longest consecutive amount of time i have been fully, both feet, petal to the metal engaged, and i actually think that's the longest i've ever been obsessed with one thing. i usually fluctuate. i have no doubt that one day, probably in the not-too-distant (but not too close either) future, i will come back here. i will pick things up again. they're not going anywhere, after all.

for now, what i've posted is what there is. i have lots of wips, and lots of outlines, and lots of things i've started and let stay unfinished, and i'm going to keep it that way. i heard something about some law coming for fanworks on tumblr, so i might shift anything that's been posted here onto ao3, but as for updates -- it'll be awhile. i hope what i already have holds up.

i've read all your comments and reblogs and asks and messages, even if i haven't responded to them. i'm touched by your concern and endeared by your flattery. i appreciate all the energy you guys have returned here, and i wish all of you the best. have so, so so much fun with this fandom until i come back to it.

love, and hugs, and kisses,

-jackie

[blueparadis]

꒰ U LOST ME ꒱ ⋮ GOJO SATORU → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]: sorcerer!fem!reader x ex-boyfriend!satoru gojo ( powers not described ), hints of virgin!gojo, relationship talks, angst, undertones of smut, fluff, hurt and comfort, canon divergent, mention of Geto and Shoko, mention of smoking, alcohol. // syn. | Gojo never liked the idea of piling up unfinished business, and he was not tough enough to chase you so he waited for you to come back. + word count -1kish // back to blog navigation.

“This was a mistake.” Satoru unzips your jacket holding the apex of the zipper in between his teeth; along with the tiniest sliver of modesty that you had kept carefully tucked underneath your skin.“I should have never come here.” His galactic eyes stilled on you. He is still holding the zip in between his teeth. The jacket is not undone yet. He has paused halfway. “S'to0ru, why did you bring me here again?”

Great! The painkillers are now slowly kicking into your system. But at least you are safe now. You are in his vicinity. That's all he cares about. That's all he needs to protect you. That's all he needs to —

“was I supposed to leave you there?” He unzips the rest of your jacket. Your belly is on display. Not that he could not see it, he always did. With his six eyes, he could see anything he wanted to. But with his limitless being off, he is more embarrassed than you are right now. This is the first time he is touching you, the first time ever touching a woman. “Seriously, how bad do you think I am?” There is a tone of mockery in his words. He finds it funny. hah! Of course, he does. His hands are resting alongside your shoulders. He scans your body. You are wearing a bra and three-quarter jeans; wherever his eyes land it is bruised. “God, what kind of missions were you doing past these years, babe?”

Now that he is hovering above you, you can meet his eyes properly. “Babe, huh?” Satoru notices your face contort, lips tremble and eyelids blinking rapidly. You look away holding your tears back. A second later, you feel Satoru’s lips graze over your belly. He inhales, strongly. You could hear him. “Oh god! Stop it Satoru. It tickles.” You protest throwing your hands at him in all irregularity preventing him from inflicting another wound on yourself.

As Satoru hears you laugh he remembers the good old days he spent with you. If he had not been so hooked on you there is no doubt you would have lived a much better life. But that is not the case. He is your doom which is why you are the only one he allowed himself to be vulnerable with. He feels he owes it to you. He feels he owes it to you because you were brave enough to love him, brave enough to confess, and more brave than him to let Suguru go so easily.

Unfortunately, your heart mistook it as affection, sometimes even love. But that is not the worst part of all this. Satoru played along with you until he was aware of your emotions, his emotions. And before he could reconcile, you left. You had to because you could not forgive him so easily for what he did and how he did.

Moreover, he had enough on his plate. But Satoru never thought he would see you years later at a pub sitting opposite to Shoko sharing a smoke and a couple of beers. How could you let go of him so easily? Did you not love him enough? Or was it just a silly teenage crush? Secretly, he wished to be like you— empathetic, honest, and blah blah blah! He is everything that you are not. He is everything that you do not deserve. He is everything that you would drown in the pool of regret.

Satoru leans forward kissing your cheeks. You do not protest and even if you did he could easily overpower you. After all that is exactly why you are in such a predicament. Your so-called ex-boyfriend towering above you while you are wasted. You had to take painkillers because the moment Satoru saw you with Shoko, you knew you could not lose him even if you ran away.

“don’t let me lose you too.” he murmurs as he starts kissing softly along your neckline, towards your cleavage, and down to your stomach. “you’re the last good thing left for me in this world.” You get up and hold his face in between your palms. He retorts to give you space but you do not let go of your hand from his face.

“I hate the way that I don’t hate you,” you remarked with a scoff. Satoru jerks away from you. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He is going to dissociate any minute now— “I know you have a heart because I feel it breaking.”

“Oh, now you care?” He snaps. Of course, he does.

“you always push people away.” You start. “Let it care,” but Satoru is quick to interrupt.

“this time I won't. this time I — he sounds so earnest that you think he must have spent all these years without you stuck in a flux of regret and hurt which is unexpecting of him“You know how things were back then. Geto left—”

“yeah.” You pause. “I know.” You inhale heavily, trying to swallow your tears. “which is why I left. So that neither of us had to deal with the hurt we were supposed to deal with. Does that makes sense to you ’tooru?” God! You sound awful with that breaking voice of yours. The painkillers are not helping either. Your mind is so fuzzy and you could feel your nerves tickling but there is nothing to worry about. You have always been honest with him. Maybe that is why he pushed you away.

Your eyes were almost on the verge of betraying you but a firm grip on your wrists kept you awake enough to feel the fervent kiss of his. You did not resist but rather let him sink his teeth into until his grip loosened, groans softened and you tasted a little blood while sucking his lips. You are not sure whose blood it is and you do not need to. He was not playing when he said he won't push you away this time. This is dangerous. You can not run or hide from him anymore. What a pain! Satoru rolled over the bed with you on top. He settled you on his lap quickly before discarding your jacket on the floor.

“There is no turning back now.” He stated holding by your waist.

“Too late to regret now” You murmur against his lips before kissing him. You feel him smile while giving him the taste of his own blood.

—

@angelshub @public-safety-network

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" - 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2 Aemond x Reader

A/N: I had not originally planned on this being a series but the Aemond girlies loved the first one so here is a second as a lil gift. //Divider by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

Summary: You wake up to unfortunate circumstances. It only gets worse when you finally get some answers. A dream confirms that whatever chance you had at having a normal life was gone.

TW: Blood, Death.

←  Previous Part • Final Chapter →

Word Count: 3.6k (Not proofread, we die like men 🫡Im also just too tired I'll do it eventually🤣)

You yawned as you sat up in your bed rubbing your eyes. You look over to the spot Aemond was in and simply see a flower. Blushing you reach over and smell the flower.

You look over to the bath on the other side of the room and notice there's no steam coming out of it. You stand up and grab your robe off of the armchair next to your bed.

You walk over to the door after you wrap yourself in the armchair and attempt to open the door. You're shocked when the door doesn't open or move an inch.

"Hello?" You try opening the door again but they don't budge. "Is anyone out there?" You wait but hear no response.

You're unsure of what to do now. You look around your room for something to do. All that you manage to find are some of your old toys and unfinished projects.

You sit in front of the fireplace trying to think of what could possibly be going on. You remember a piece of the wall that could move and search for it, trying your best to remember exactly where it was. You end up finding it next to your dresser.

The piece moves easily and you reach inside. Your hand touches something and you instantly remember. You lay down flat on your stomach reach in with both hands and pull out the wooden box.

You're filled with nostalgia as you sit down on your bed with the box. You blow off the smoke and open it up.

Inside lies a small journal which you place to the side already deciding you have to see what young you used to write about. Inside also lies a small cushion you had sewn for you and Halaena's dolls. One of your teeth which Aegon convinced you to let him take out by tying it with string to a door.

You're confused for a moment at the last item. It's a black handkerchief with gold detailing. You pick it up and stare at it a moment before you remember.

Aemond had found you crying in a corner of the library covered in dirt, mud and God knows what else. He had asked you what happened and although you didn't want to tell him he convinced you too. You admitted that your brothers had joined Aegon in tormenting you by throwing mud at you insisting it was just a joke.

Aemond felt bad especially since he understood what it meant to be at the end of their cruel jokes. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the mud off of your face before walking you to his mother's chambers.

Alicent cleaned you off and got you a clean dress before seeking out the boys and your mother. All three of them were forced to shovel horse shit while you, Helaena and Aemond watched and ate cake.

The memory brought a smile to your face. Aemond had asked you for the handkerchief back but you told him you couldn't find it.

You pick the journal back up excitedly and open it up to a random page.

King's Landing 117 AC

Dear Diary,

Today my brother was born. Father named him Joffrey, I personally think his name is stupid but I held my tongue. Septa Anne would be proud. I went with the boys to the dragon pit today. It was awfully boring. Aemond and I watched while they got to practice commands. AND YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT THEY DID! They gave us pigs! PIGS! Called them the "Pink Dreads".

Sometimes I wish I could just gouge out Aegon's eyes and put them in his soup when he isn't looking...maybe I can get Helaena to catch a beetle for me...

Anyways. I went to the kitchen to get cake but then Harwin stole it! He said it was taxes? WHAT EVEN IS TAXES?

You can't help but laugh as you continue to read. You fall asleep while reading about the time Aegon fell out of a tree while trying to grab a bird.

You wake up and blink a couple times, clearing your vision. You sit up and jump back when you see Aemond next to you lying in your bed.

"Gods! When did you get here?" He has a smirk on his face as he continues to read while eating an apple.

"A while ago. You were sleeping peacefully I didn't wish to wake you." You nod and look at what he's holding. You quickly notice it's your diary and try to snatch it out of his hand but he's quicker. He clicks his tongue at you as you try to reach for it. "Im quite enjoying this. Listen to this one. Aemond gave me a flower today!"

"Aemond! Stop! Give it back" Your face flushes in embarrassment. "I was a kid!" He drops the apple and manages to grabs your hands with one of his and holds them down.

"He is so cute!" He looks back at you with a shocked expression. "You thought I was cute, princess?" Aemond pulls you to sit in his lap and you hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment. "Aemond smiled at me today!"

"Stop!!! Please I beg of you!" He laughs and puts the journal down.

"And this!" He lifts you out of his neck and waves the handkerchief in your face. "You swore to me that you lost it! Liar!"

Aemond begins tickling you and rolls you over caging you under him. He leans down and leaves a trail of kisses from your neck down to your collarbone.

"Aemond?" He hums back in response. "Why was I locked in my chambers?" He stops kissing you for a moment before he leaves a final one on your cheek and sits up.

"You need to break fast first...then we can talk."

Aemond calls for food and for your handmaids to prepare you a bath. You're shocked at first cause of how open he was about being in your chambers while you were fully undressed. You wanted to ask if the talk had gone well about the betrothal and if that's why he was ok with people seeing him here but you opted to wait.

He watches you eat occasionally grabbing slices of fruit off of your plate.

"If you want one you could just take from the tray you know?" He smirks as he puts another grape in his mouth.

"But they taste much better off of your plate." He leans over and bites the strawberry that you're holding.

"So." He leans back in his chair. "Are you going to tell me why I was locked in here?"

The atmosphere immediately changes and is tense. He sighs deeply.

"...King Viserys died..."

Your eyes widen and you drop the food in your hand back onto the plate. Your heart clenches at the news. You had spent much of childhood following him around, you had even willingly chosen to be his cupbearer in some of his council meetings simply because you wanted to be near him.

"...that doesn't explain why I was locked in my chambers Aemond. Matter of fact that is far from an explanation. If my grandsire died I should have been notified."

Aemond fidgets with his hands the same way Alicent does as he looks at the wall.

"Kepus. What are you not telling me?" He continues staring at the wall occasionally looking at you. "Aemond." [Uncle]

"Aegon was crowned king." He says it quickly with his head held high. "As the king's firstborn son, he is the rightful heir. He was crowned before the masses in the dragon pit."

Aemond watches as your breathing quickens and your facial expressions. Your lips are pressed together as you're clenching your hands so tight.

"Who made that decision?"

"It was the King's wish. He said it upon his deathbed to my mother." You roll your eyes and stare at the wall. There was a battle going on within your head. Part of you was understanding of the firstborn son point but the other part was devastated for your mother.

"Does my mother know? What of my grandmother? I was supposed to leave with her this mourning."

"...your grandmother interrupted the crowning. She was riding Meleys, many people died and just as many were injured." You cover your mouth with a shaking hand. "I believe she is already on her way to Dragonstone probably to speak to your mother..."

Meanwhile in Dragonstone

Rhaenys wasted no time heading straight for the princess. She had no time for formalities.

She walks into the room seeing them both by the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Lorent." Rhaenys stops at the head of the table. "Princess Rhaenys, might we hope for news of Lord Corlys' recovery?"

"Viserys is dead." Rhaenyra's face drops as Daemon turns around. "I grieve this loss with you Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father...possessed a kind heart." Rhaenyra struggled to comprehend what was happening. She knew her father would die soon but hoped she would be back to King's Landing in time to be there.

"There is more. Aegon has been crowned as his successor" Rhaenyra clutches her stomach as Daemon walks over.

"They crowned him?" Rhaenyra was looking off into space, grieving.

"How did Viserys die?" Daemon had a look on his face that no one could quite place. Was he sad? Angry? Or just plain confused.

"I could not say." They both look at each other.

"How long ago?" Rhaenyra asks.

"A day past, perhaps two. I was made prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations."

"Viserys has been slain." Daemon watches Rhaenyra.

"Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon." It was not a question, Rhaenyra already knew that it had happened.

"She did. I refused her." Rhaenyra let out a shaky breath.

"And yet you are alive." Of course, Daemon was skeptical, when was he ever not?

"The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit. I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys." Rhaenyra was still clutching her stomach.

"They crowned him before the masses." Rhaenys nodded.

"So that the masses would see him as their rightful King," Rhaenys responded.

"That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you could have burned them all for it." Daemon's unknown emotion was now evident, he was angry, livid even.

"A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house." She took a deep breath. "The greens are coming for you Rhaenyra. And for your children."

"M-my children?" Rhaenyra's face contorted in pain. "My daughter! You brought her with you?" Daemon stood straight up.

"Sadly...no...Alicent had her chambers guarded well and her room had no passages. I'm sorry. I did not wish to leave my granddaughter either."

"You left my daughter with those cunts?" Daemon walked around the table to face Rhaenys. "You left her to become a bargain in this war?"

"I did my best Prince Daemon. We have allies within those walls that can get a message to her. Once I hear word she is alright I will be sending someone in to retrieve her."

"You have done enough." Daemon pointed at her. "I will retrieve my child from the snakes you fed her too."

"Enough Daemon..." Daemon turned to face Rhaenyra who was now hunched over gripping the table. "The babe... it's coming..."

King's Landing

Aemond watched as you paced around the room. You had requested he leave you alone for the a day only allowing in your handmaidens and refusing to see anyone else.

Since you had called for him this morning you hadn't said anything in almost an hour and instead paced around the room looking for the words to start this conversation. Occasionally you would stop, point at him and open your mouth but then you'd scowl and resume pacing again. He could tell you were conflicted.

"Ñuha jorrāelagon, kessa ao sit ilagon? Before you burn a hole into the floor." [My Love, will you sit down?]

"Now is not a time for jokes, Aemond! Do you know what your family has done? This is an act of war! They have usurped the throne right out from under my mother's feet. If you think she will let this go easily- no, if you think Daemon will let this go easily you are all sorely mistaken." you begin pacing again.

Aemond stood up and walked over to you and grabbed your hands.

"Gīda." [Calm] He pushed a strand of hair out of your face. "Everything is going to be ok."

"What will happen to me?" The thought had crossed your mind many times as you wondered what would be made of you.

"My grandsire and the King have agreed to our betrothal. They will announce it as part of the terms if she agrees to declare Aegon as the rightful King and kneel before him and the council."

"Terms?" You back away from him letting go of his hands. "Our marriage would no longer hold meaning Aemond. It would be seen merely as something my mother won in bowing to Aegon, a spoil of war. Either way, she would never say yes."

"Then Aegon will marry us anyway." He shrugs and pulls you back into him as if none of this bothered him. "He is my brother and he knows of the love I hold for you."

"And if I say no?" His face became stern.

"You wouldn't hurt me so."

"You mean the way that you have today?" He sighs deeply. "Why did you not come and free me from my chambers?"

"Because I knew you would leave at the first chance." You look away from him and he turns your face back towards him. "You're mine and I wasn't willing to risk losing what is mine."

You would typically enjoy this possessive air around him but you currently found it suffocating. You wanted nothing more than to put space between you but he was holding you tight against him.

"Aemond. This is not right. You must understand that?" He rolled his eyes and let you go.

"Who sits on the throne is none of my concern and not on my list priority."

"Then what is?" You step towards him angrily.

"You!" he snaps. "You are my only priority. If you say no to marrying me then you will be made prisoner here. You will spend the entirety of this war locked in here." You could tell he was being truthful. "Marry me and you will at least have some freedom."

"Some?" He walked back over to the table and sat down tired of this conversation. "What is some?"

"You will be allowed to walk freely around the castle with a guard of my choosing."

"And Vermithor?" You think of your dragon and where he could be. You had claimed him when you returned to Dragonstone after what happened at Driftmark. Aemond's bravery in claiming Vhagar led you to sneak into where he sleeps and approach the dragon yourself. You had also thought that if you claimed him you could ride to King's Landing and see him. You had learned the song Daemon would sing and tried singing it to him to calm him down. It worked despite almost being burnt to a crisp you had claimed him.

"I will visit him on Vhagar." He reached for your hand but you shied away. "You must understand that my grandsire worries about allowing you to have full freedom. After a while, you will be allowed to go riding."

"How long is a while Aemond?" He visibly gulped and bit the inside of his cheek. "How long?" Your voice was cold and made the hairs on his neck stand.

"Until you give birth to our firstborn." He said it quietly already knowing how you would react. It was smart you'd give them that. They know you wouldn't fly away while your child is in their possession. "My grandfather's decision not my own."

"And did you try to fight him on it?"

"Why would I?" He shrugged but soon noticed the angry expression on your face. "I want marriage with you, I want children." He tried to reach for you again.

"So do I Aemond! But not like this." You take his hand and he pulls you to sit on his lap. "I want us to marry because it is what we want. I want my mother to be there! This isn't the way I want to do this."

Aemond leans his head against your chest.

"My hands are tied, my love." You get off of his lap and walk over to the fireplace facing your back to him.

"I wish to be alone."

"Baby..." You hear him get up and walk over to you.

"Please go...now!" A few seconds later you hear him sigh and leave the room. You sit on the armchair and allow yourself to cry.

This was all too much for you. You worried for your mother and the rest of your family. Did they think you were a traitor now? Will they think you have chosen Aemond's family over them if you were to marry him?

You know there's no way your mother will kneel before Aegon, even if she decides to, Daemon would rather lock her in her chambers than agree to that.

How could they be so foolish? So reckless?

You walk over to your bed and lie down. You go over the pros and cons of agreeing to marry Aemond. You then think about ways you could escape. Maybe agreeing to a betrothal will at least get you the right to walk around, you could find your parent's allies within the walls and find a way back to them.

You can stall the wedding for a while. Aemond would understand you'd prefer to be married only after the war was over and your family could attend.

You soon tire yourself out with all this thinking and fall asleep.

You spend the next day alone in your chambers. Alicent had invited you to join her in breaking your fast but you respectfully declined. You needed more time.

You saw a boat sail out from King's Landing and knew it was most likely Otto heading out to deliver the terms to your mother. You knew it would not go well and they would be lucky if she didn't feed them to Syrax for their treachery.

It was only the following midday when you grew worried. You saw Vhagar fly away from the castle. Part of you wish you knew where he was going and the other part of you remained angry. You thought he knew you better, if he did he would have fought harder for your freedom right? He would have denied Otto's offer and not allowed him to make your marriage into something that they hoped would sway your mother into giving up her crown.

Gods you missed her, you prayed every moment for her safety. For all of their safety.

It rained that night. Something was off. You could feel it in your bones. You tried to sleep hoping it would calm your nerves. Your handmaid brought you tea to help you relax. You soon fell asleep but sadly even your dreams were disturbed.

You wake up on the floor of pitch black. Everything around you was dark. There was no light just darkness. You sat up and looked around.

"Hello?" Your voice echoed. You stood up and began walking around in the dark abyss not knowing where you were going.

"Gēlȳn enkagon jamela!" You hear Aemond's voice. [You owe a debt!]

You quickly turned around but nothing was there.

"Aemond?" You walked in the direction that you heard his voice. As you got closer you noticed your feet getting wet.

"Taoba!" You hear him again but in a different direction. [Boy!]

You turned again where you heard his voice and walked quicker in that direction. You felt something patter on your head and looked up. Nothing was there just darkness but you could for sure feel something wet as if it was rain.

There was a flash of a bright light to which you shielded your face.

"Daor Arrax!" Arrax? That's Luke's dragon.

"Luke? Luke, are you there?" You noticed your clothes clinging to your body as they were now soaked the scent of salty water filling your nose.

"Vhagar! No! No..." What had happened? Why was he saying no?

You look around you quickly trying to make sense of what it is you are hearing. The rain is heavier and you look at your hands. They aren't just wet...they're red. Your dress is now too stained red. You touch your cheek and look back at your hands and see the same red substance.

Something drops from above causing you to step back quickly. More pieces fall from the sky surrounding you. You shield your head and scream as the red rain grows heavier and more pieces fall.

When the rain softens and the sound of stuff falling ceases you open your eyes and look around you. Your face twists in pain as you see pieces of the body of Arrax surrounding you. It only gets worse when you see a human body part. You look closer and notice the hand.

"He got me." You hear his Lucerys voice and you instantly know it was his hand.

You wake up in a sweat your hair sticking to your neck and your pillow drenched. You look up and see Aemond standing at the end of your bed his clothes drenched.

And in that moment you knew.

The war had started.

A/N: So this is clearly turning into a series. Which I'm actually not mad about. Not sure where this is going but naturally the chances of any of this being 100% original is not possible. There are far too many HOTD fanfics for any ending or storyline to be original. I can only hope that it is 100% enjoyable.

I will still obviously do my best to come up with a unique ending but I feel like to have a unique ending people need to die. I need to start killing off characters like Grey's Anatomy 🤣

Anywho I hope y'all enjoyed this part! If you wish to be added to this Taglist or any other one please let me know!

Gen Taglist: @thought--bubble, @valeskafics

[icarusredwings]

i *live* for your agere wade omg 😢🙏🏻 i also age regress there's just something about your favorite character being like you that makes me smile :) your writing is absolutely wonderful as well!! :3

Hi hon, Im so proud of you for doing what's good for you, and I am so happy that you've found something to enjoy that makes you feel good about yourself.

Thank you so much for the support. I've seen more people mention how excited they were to find cute, mild, and nonnsexual regressions for Wade, so I've decided to put it on A03 for more people to enjoy.

I actually was nervous about posting them in general because of the stigma around it but seeing how supportive you all have been (I dont know why im even shocked) it's made me a little more confident in my writing. I was abused quite a bit as a child, and while I don't regress, I do have a special attachment to my stuffed animals and find comfort in kids' shows. Annnddd, as someone who was working towards becoming a geneticist? It's comforting to know that some very intelligent and successful people also do.

While you're waiting for me to write more or upload to A03, have some HCs:

Depending on what's going on, he fluctuates between 5-8.

Wade has 3 caregivers, Al, Vanessa, and Logan. He loves them all so much but certian care givers are for certain things. Al (Mama) is he goes too for booboos, Ness (Mommy) is who takes him out the most, to the park and doctors (If things get too out of hand, she can pull the "He's my disabled son you bastard" card, and Logan (Kitty) is general. The one youll find when wade is casually colouring or playing tea party with.

He'll take "sippies" but hes a bit too old for them because he chews the tops off.

Cereal, mac and cheese, pizza, bassically anything he already eats as an adult, including spicy tacos.

He doesn't have a lot of toys (and if he does, they're from a give away or a dumpster) so is very possesive of them and will instantly get upset if you try to take them away or "hurt" them.

Wade is the type to just chill with you on the couch and eat snacks if you don't have the energy to play or take him to the park. Even as a child, he was very emotionally intelligent, and it shows.

Most kids would have tantrums, but he seems to either be understanding or go cry in silence while isolated (its what hes used too)

As much as people say he's a potty mouth, I don't see it. Not yet anyway. Sure he'll say "bad words" sometimes but as someone whos used to being screamed at to shut up all the time, I believe he talks so much as an adult BECAUSE he wasn't allowed as a kid so he's more of an observer unless you are unfortunately his favorite and then hes going to tell you random facts.

Oftentimes, the "perfect child" are ones that are independent, quiet, and who monitor their emotions/ actions around other kids and adults. This means being forced to act older than you actually are, walking on eggshells around adults and trying to do things by himself.

He likes to wear clothes that are too big for him rather then tight. (Bonus points if they're a hoodie or a sweater)

He likes baths and sometimes will tell you that his "Skin hurts" when really it's just itchy/peeling/ needs lotion.

He's not big on babytalk but "puppy" "mama" "mommy" "park?" "Kitty scratch bad guys" "I watch tv?" "Go home?" "Play horses?" Are common. Its either small unfinished sentneces or endless rambling with full sentences that repeat themself. Logan has once heard "Did you know-?" 30 times once all in 10 minutes

He has a stuffy of a Wolverine named Fluffy from Kitty, a unicorn named Buttercream from Mommy, and a bear shaped dog toy from Mama. In her defense she didn't know it was a dog toy (because shes blind and cant read duh) but Wade loves it more that it squeaks.

Because kidWade (He is "NOT little", he's a "Big boy") is bigger than them, he has issues playing a little... rough... with other kids. He has infact shoved a kid into the sand while playing tag.

Wade is very erm... possesive.. over his caregivers and will act out if he believes Kitty is ignoring him. Because of their history, hes even more prone to acting out with Ness and has gone as far as telling someone they looked like a burnt quesodilla that "had a baby with a wrinkled cucumber" before (and will do it again)

Flappy hands. Giggles. Screeches. That is all that needs to be said.

Wade likes music, arts, and crafts. Physical exercise is nice too but naps are needed afterwards.

Naps must be willing. If you tell him to go take a nap he'll just stomp his feet and cry that hes "being good" so "doesn't need one" bassically, naps are punishment.

Tw for sensitive topics such as mental and physical health

The worst part about having Wade isn't that he is a "brat" or "bad", no infact wade barley ever is a brat. He's very people pleasing because he just wants as much affection as possible. it's the fact that you can't trick him or keep him from doing something. He's too smart.

"Come on baby, we're going to the park"

"Yay!!- wait.... Mommy... Mommy the park is that way...Mommy this is how you go to the mean doctors! They're gonna rip my teeth out!"

It's even HARDER to care for a kid who can escape literally anything and can run all the way home if you upset him too badly. The only thing really you can do is call a different cg and double up on the reassurance. (And maybe a bribe)

Another thing is that just because he's in this headspace doesn't mean his issues are gone. Between the nightmares, the flashbacks, the scary hallucinations that he can't understand, intrusive thoughts about harming a person, impusive thoughts, and just straight up having to deal with cancer on top of it all, etc.

Do you know how hard it is to explain to a child that they're nauseous and exhausted because the cells inside of him are eating the other cells, dying, and healing all at the same time?

[joannasprose]

just don’t leave me alone, wondering where you are

CW: harassment, violence, a little bit of angst.

I’m sorry for not posting for like. five billion years :/ here’s some vi x reader angst/fluff because I’ve been thinking about her :p

———

You dragged your feet against the hot asphalt as though you were being held down by a large anchor.

The street of the underside had become crowded during this time, the bustling streets and the cities merchants hoping to get a grab of whatever you had in the pockets of your pants.

It had been seven years since then. Since Vander. Since Mylo and Claggor and Powder. Vi’s name had always brought bitterness on your tongue. Since the day she disappeared, you had never once spoken it out-loud. It plagued your mind like a festering and undying disease.

As you stride through the already crowded streets—your eyes find The Last Drop. Memories filled your mind like a flood. You remember days spent in the bar, speaking with Vandar and indulging in Powder’s unfinished.

Most importantly, you remember Vi. Nights where the two of you sat on the roof and she listened to you talk about your day. The same old story with the same old ending.

Pushing those memories far from your head, you turn the street corner nearest to the well-known brothel, a familiar face comes into view, making you unknowingly heave out an annoyed breath.

“How’re you doing, sweetheart?” His voice calls, one that fills your head with an irritation warranted light just for him. One of Silco’s guards, his arm resting against the brick of the alleyway, a smile displaying his teeth and gums.

“Sam,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, putting your disinterest on display.

“Aw come on. Why the long face? You missed me that much?” His confidence is what stirs a smile on your lips. You can’t remember when he had first began to take an interest in you. Unfortunately, you wished you have have handled the days of being unknown with much more care.

Sam lifts himself from the wall, stepping closely towards you, and attempting to slightly graze the hair that hangs wildly out of place on your head. But before he has the chance though, you grab his wrist with as much force as you could muster up.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, venom laced in your words as his face once portraying a deep lust, now twisted into an agitated and offended expression.

He pulls himself out of your hands, his arms dangling at his side for only but a moment before he reels his right arm back, the palm of his hand meeting the skin of your cheek.

It stings. A harsh pain that you’ve felt a few times before. “I’ve been nothing but kind to you for months, and you’ve yet to give me what I want.” This time, you really do laugh. Is harassment really his judgement of kindness?

His brows furrow, anger tucked underneath. As he steps closer to grab your face, a figure pulls him back, throwing him off balance.

You can’t see their face. They don’t speak to you. Only harsh grunt from themself, and Sam, and the streets of the under-city are what clouds your senses.

Their fists meet his face unrelentingly. You hear him beg, pleading for the stranger to stop. You can’t see it, but you can hear it. Fist meeting bone with anger laced in the strangers knuckles.

You don’t say anything. No words escape the space between your lips as the stranger lets him go, and as he crawls away, limping frantically.

“Don’t come near her again.” That voice. So endearing yet harsh. Familiar yet distant.

As she turns to you, those light blue eyes creating heart ache and helplessness in you—you muster up the courage to speak.

“Vi?”

———

definitely planning on making this a little series! yes I know this is so obviously rushed but I really wanted to get something out because I’ve been gone for so long! but I promise the next part will most definitely be longer and well written <3

reread this and im cringing so hard omg

[sunny-day-jack-official]

So! The demo is finally out! Or, a bit of it is. What’s next?

Let’s run over a few questions, so hopefully everyone is in the loop!

Q: Why is it only a little bit after so long?

A: Development has been all over the place and a big reason is just how difficult it can be to mediate between artists, programmers, writers, etc.. Mental and physical health, personal emergencies, etc.. are also a big part of this— and it wasn’t anticipated that this would eat up so much time.

The original game was planned to have Sauce (presently speaking!) handling a large majority of tasks all at once. So— when health stalled, production stalled.

Of course, healing took a bit of time to. And even now, that’s why so much of the demo is left unfinished. Overall— it wasn’t possible to complete the demo in the same amount of time the original demo was completed because realistically speaking— that was extremely unhealthy and rushed.

Because of that tight deadline, 48 hours to a week, many significant errors or retconned elements made their way into the game. A huge toll was taken that resulted in extreme burnout after. Quality (as can be seen in the CGs) suffered. An emphasis on quality is currently being prioritized, but I can safely say that I am no longer able to work at my original 2021-2022 pace.

—

Q: Why are you (Sauce) working alone?

A: At this point in time— we had spent a while working on the GUI and design/function of the game. It is, after all, set to have some pretty hefty features.

Translation and dub settings

Censorship and Softcore modes

A VERY LARGE story map with several endings

An additional “one-shot” story mode wherein every ending you unlock, you then unlock additional content

That takes a lot more planning than we’d anticipated.

How do we make this efficiently run on most systems?

Are we able to make sure that the size of this game is compatible with older devices?

Are the assets optimized? ( A lot of time has gone into re-drawing and working out sprite systems )

What settings are accessibility necessary for impaired players? How do we implement those options?

How do we design a stylish and efficient system?

That was something we had figured originally would be pretty easy to work out! But multiple people here are wearing multiple hats.

The rest of the team is actively working on those portions. But at the moment— we’ve decided to shelve literal art development and scripting (which was where we were hovering for a while) until we got the programming bits truly sorted out.

That leaves little old me! While they worked on this, I’ve been spending time making sure we could serve you a sample of what’s to come. My job is doling out a taste of the narrative, style, etc.. That way, once they’re finished, we can consider any feedback in the implementation of these portions of the game in the final, official build.

Hopefully that makes sense! TL;DR - Everyone’s busy making the important program my bits and designing the menus. So I’ve stepped away to work on this so you all have something to see in the meantime!

—

Q: Why are you REBUILDING THE DEMO?

A: The old demo— you’d think it would be easy to patch up. But it’s literally the very first build, sized up and fixed and stitched over. Unfortunately it was an unoptimized mess, even for what it was.

Hopefully a cleaner, more organized build will allow for better gameplay. But the key factor is just a desire for better quality!

—

Q: How often will you be uploading new additions?

A: Until all the bugs are fixed and the whole demo is rebuilt. This should be every week or so until then. Once it’s all done, the demo will see a re-release publicly!

In the meantime, please keep in mind bugs may be aplenty— and I personally apologize for this. Demos released are intended to show proof of work— but they may not be the best, most fun experience for narrative-seeking players. It’s advised immersion-prioritizing players wait until the build is fully finished and christened on our steam page!

—

Q: Will there be Mac support?

A: I will absolutely try!

—

Hopefully that helps give a bit more insight. Unfortunately it’s difficult to articulate everything that’s going on, but we’ll do our best! We’d like to have someone more verbally gifted helping us to write these posts, but until we decide how to go about that, you’re stuck with me.

We’ll do the best we can to answer any questions as clearly as possible. And again— we thank you all for your patience.

Making SDJ was clearly a messier experience than we had considered. It’s been a rollercoaster— and as Sauce speaking, I can actually attribute most of the delays to my own personal health and absence.

That— I am sorry for.

The rest of the team is working very hard to put something together that’s quality. I can promise with my whole heart that they’re doing their best. We’re all just people passionate about this project, and no matter the weather I don’t think it’s ever not on our minds.

I look forwards to putting out a large Kickstarter update soon, detailing our work and more! And I’m excited to open the airways for more and more communication.

But for now— we’ll see you next bug-fixing update.

- Sauce

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

top gun masterlist

top gun blurbs

⭑ is for strong allusions to smut † is for actual smut ▸ is for a little bit of angst    the rest is just pure fluff!!

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

there's also my dbf!jake seresin masterlist for anyone interested

† Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven - Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

† What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars - After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?

⭑ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - It’s Halloween at the Hard Deck and Jake is letting out the Texan in him. You find out that you may have a thing for cowboys - or perhaps just for Jake Seresin as a cowboy. Either way, the evening takes a turn.

▸ Same Old Truck - It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Jake Seresin. Back then, you were head over heels in love with him. Now you aren’t much better off. The only question: If it ended back then, how can you be sure it’ll last now?

⭑ Jake Seresin and the Unfortunate Hat Situation - You’re visiting Jake’s family in Texas for the first time and so far, it’s been going well. Just that Jake may have forgotten to mention the hat rule.

Blondie Fancy-Pants - You meet Jake at the Hard Deck for the very first time. Or maybe not the very first time after all. But who says first impressions can’t be disproven?

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw 

Tuesday Night - It’s a random Tuesday night. Only that Rooster has wholly and absolutely charmed you.

⭑ Not a Coincidence - It’s not a coincidence that you turn up at the Hard Deck for a beach day. It’s not a coincidence either that you end up inside the bar all alone with Rooster. And after what happened on Tuesday, well...

† Rooster at 5, Bradley at Night -  You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

⭑ Take Me on a Joyride -  After two months of successfully sneaking around with Bradley, things finally kick off.

The Jacuzzi Incident - You spend your Christmas holidays with the squad in your uncle's cabin and sharing the jacuzzi with Bradley ends steamy in more than one way.

Oh No, There’s Only One Bed - The hotel is all booked out and now you have to share a room with Bradley Bradshaw. Worse, you have to share a bed.

Oh No, There's an Arm Around My Waist - You wake up in the same bed as Bradley Bradshaw. That's it. Or is it?

A Wedding to Remember and a Proposal to Come - You’re Penny’s maid of honour. Bradley is Mav’s best man. And after planning this perfect wedding, you’re thinking about your future with him.

† Great Balls of Fire - It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

Robert “Bob” Floyd 

⭑ I’ve Always Wondered If Your Glasses Would Look Good On Me - It’s a slow Sunday morning and you get to live out a fantasy you’ve had for quite a while now.

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Ice Ice Baby (Series, unfinished) - You need a fake date to your friend’s wedding. Who better to ask than your coworker Ice, who you may have developed a little bit of a crush on?

True or False - After months of flirting, finally things kick off when Ice suggest playing a round of “True or False”.

all of these are x reader!!

and again: there’s also my top gun blurbs and the dbf!jake seresin masterlist

[cupiohearts]

CANT CATCH ME NOW ?! - leaving them behind

they see you everywhere. james, jonggun, joongoo. they find bits and pieces of you lying around in their pockets, their houses and memories. it depends on which one it is which scene they see you in.

DG VER. gun ver. goo ver.

for james, he sees the sight of you in the crowd when he first started as an idol. he catches himself hoping for a glimpse of you in crowds as he did before. maybe you just show up at one of his concerts one day. he knows its a childish hope to think you'll come back. especially not when theyve all pushed you out of their lives.

but was it such a hopeless thought to have? a particulary fond memory of seeing you in the front row at barricade. hopping down and singing his lyrics to your face. fans thought you were just a really lucky person to catch the attention of DG, minimizing it to a harmless fan interaction moment just for the concert.

he loved the way your eyes twinkled underneath the stage light illuminating your face in a mesmerizing glow. he recalled the heartbreak when they were all gathered up at your apartment.

it had become a haunting memory of seeing the house abandoned. the only thing left was a small ragged old scarf you insisted on keeping

"yknow! one day for my super awesome snowman! ive been waiting for winter to come in korea so snow is finally here!" you tell him with a giddy grin at the mall. your loose baby strands around your face and your face bare with nothing on it standing out to him.

you always mentioned you wanted to experience the snow. you said you didnt have it where you were from. far too sunny for that you said.

"you wont have to wait long. it get cold fast in korea" he tells you. chuckling as you hold the scarf in your hand while picking out more winter items.

how unfortunate. it was snowing right now. he wondered where youve gone. maybe youve died off, its better for him that way. that way he wont have to think about whether or not youve settled down yet. maybe gone back to your old country or somehwere new.

maybe youre out on a date somewhere, possibly 6 feet down in a ditch. his mind wanders when it comes to you.

reading the note you left behind for him. written in a sparkly pen you always used.

"why do you have so many pens and only use one?!" he questions you with a raised eyebrow. his long fingers unzipping your pencil pouch and looking through all the pens you own.

"you cant expect me to use all of them. plus my papers look sparkly this way and its cute. the design is cute and i like how it writes!" you chirp at him. turning behind you and hitting his forehead with your pen. "red hair... i like you with your curly red hair. reminds me of someone i used to know" you tell him.

curling his hair around your pen before dropping it when you hear the teacher say your name and turning back to the board. your hair whipping him in the face "im innocent!" you joke with your hands raised causing the class to laugh.

you tell him youre sorry in the note. that you couldnt handle it anymore.

you tell him everything but telling him nothing at the same time. telling him of how you felt like everyone else was moving while you were stuck in the present. everyone was special and you were not.

he let the paper drop down after skimming the rest of its contents. he wished to just crumple it up and tossed it away. he couldn't.

he knew he was being selfish wanting you back when youve clearly stated in the note this was out of youre pure will, leaving them behind. he wouldve cried. he wouldve cried if he was james lee.

all he could do was pick it back up and meet back with gun, and goo.

it was gonna all be in one set page but i found that it was longer than most of my other projects if i actually completed this whole

so i broke it up

like the friend group

ha

i caught up with lookism

i like the new pretty boys :3

ALSO QLSO I HAD AN ENTIRLY SEPRATE DOCUMENT FROM THIS AND I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED MY UNFINISHED STUFF BC I ACCIDETNALY POSTED IT INSTEAD OF COICKING DRAFT SO I HAD TO COPY AND PASTE ALL OF THIS PARAGRAPH BY PARAGRAPH TO THIS PAGE THINGY BC IM ON THE PHONE TYPING ALL PF US THIS SO A+ FOR WFFORT

did not proof read (bc im insecure abt my works 😔🤞)

[theminecraftbee]

fic masterpost

last updated: august 2024

note that this masterpost does not include tumblr-exclusive fics, because i write those as effectively "sketches"; they're practice and meant to be easy for me, so i deliberately don't 'take them seriously' enough to list them here. (also, there are probably over a hundred at this point.) you can find the tumblr exclusive fics in the tag 'a bee fic' if you're looking for them.

additionally: for ANY of my fics, you can always DM me to ask me to give you spoilers if the tags and summary do not give you enough information to decide if you want to read the fic or if the fic might contain one of your triggers. just let me know in a way i can respond privately, and i will give you that information!

-

multichapter fics

this is about a stuffed bird, hermitcraft, T (warning: a bordeline M), 78k. in which an apocalypse happens that turns much of humanity into horrible monsters, mumbo gets a distressing call from grian and decides to travel across the country to meet him. still my most popular hermitcraft fic and my second-most popular fic overall. heavy on body horror, themes of what makes someone a person, and also evil x is here. i still love the mumbo voice in this, and it even has a complete podfic by quackingfish if you prefer audiobooks.

the continued adventures of the boatem road trip, hermitcraft, T, 28k. a series of events that take place as boatem is trapped in the void together for three months after big moon. originally written as a series of vaguely-connected oneshots on tumblr, gathered here into one place. the ending is a little abrupt, but if you're looking for something with the highest concentration of some of my favorite jokes i've made sitting right next to some good old cosmic horror, this is the fic for you.

the last days of the free angel of carrows, hermitcraft, T, 79k. the angel joe hills and the zombie cleo, owners of the atsign agency, investigate a strange mystery brought to them by pearl, and must save their city as they go. a noir-inspired urban fantasy i originally wrote for a big bang, and still my longest fic! it's got some of my favorite worldbuilding i've done, a great joe-and-cleo plot, a pearl i'm still obsessed with, and so much angel symbolism. if you like aus or urban fantasies, this is the one of my fics you should read.

solving counting sheep, evo, T, 78k. blade-three, living weapon of the watchers, is stolen by martyn after martyn finds its command words and taken home to jimmy to try to rehabilitate. what neither the property police or three itself know is that three is the ultimate fate of grian, their friend who they presumed dead. a fic that is very VERY much about identity and learning who you are, and also plays into many of my favorite living weapon and watcher!grian tropes--as well as subverts them in some heavy ways. probably one of the most personal fics i've ever written, as well. my understanding is that both people who like watcher!grian and people who hate it like this fic, which i take as praise.

the carriers, life series, M, 40k. PET mail (the group made up of Pearl, Etho, and Tango) are mail carriers after the zombie apocalypse, as well as asymptomatic carriers of the zombie virus. when cleo, a person from pearl's past, asks them to bring her a package, they go on a journey that barrels through all three of their pasts. this one is rated M for two specific reasons (both violence) but if you're chill with violence this one turned out pretty well! it is a very me take on a zombie apocalypse, what with the fact that the remnants of heavy industry are almost as much of a threat as the zombies, and a fic that leans pretty heavily on the double life soulmate pairs.

san luis, dream smp, T, 23k, perpetually unfinished. after the other three members of sbi die, philza tries to put back together the pieces. it would be easier if he wasn't hearing their ghosts. this is a fic i'm unfortunately unlikely to finish because it just makes me too sad to write after irl events, but it has some of my best handling of grief, and i know it brings some people comfort. if you don't mind me at my most unrelentingly sad, or are looking for that, i might still recommend it.

in deference to saint george, original superhero work, T, 42k. superhero superball, aka jack harlan, starts dating a customer he meets at the coffee shop he works at, while at the same time dealing with the attacks of the villain dragon and natural disasters. a hero/villain fic with a very ME kind of ending, i am still SUPER PROUD of this. i think the worldbuilding and characters work and it's my proof to myself i can write ow! also, if you've always wanted to read a superhero au from me, good news: this may not be an au, but it's very much exactly that.

-

long oneshots

consequentialism, hermitcraft, M, 5k. as the members of boatem start falling in the boatem hole, their own dead bodies start showing up. peak "WOULD THAT BE FUCKED UP OR WHAT" horror from me, and also the first hermitcraft fic i ever wrote! if you like my horror writing and aren't too squeamish, good news: this exists.

to convey a certain brilliance, hermitcraft, T, 21k. joe hills and zombiecleo slowly, and through many death loops, drag their way out of their collapsed base to try to survive after a lunar apocalypse. this is the second hermitcraft fic i ever wrote and i wrote it before we knew how moon's big would end, inspired by super hostile; people still tell me it has some of their favorite joe characterization.

cura te ipsum, hermitcraft, T, 15k. tango, in a world where the hermatrix is canon, wakes up on-board the hermethius after dying to the moon and has to try to figure out how to cope. still one of my favorite oneshots i've written, full-stop, and the culmination of all my big moon emotions. it can be considered fully canon-compliant, and it's mostly about all the big emotions something like big moon would cause.

jevin's egg disaster, hermitcraft, G, 7k. the eggs from the season nine egg hunt turn into real children. chaos ensues. this is technically sorted into chapters, and written as a series of very short ficlets on tumblr originally. it doesn't really "conclude" as a result. however this is me on pure crackfic and contains my favorite joke i've ever made (it's in chapter 7 if you're wondering) so PLEASE read it if all the rest of my 'everyone talks about their big feelings' is causing you to need a laugh because it WILL make you laugh.

attempt thirty-three, hermitcraft, T, 14k. joe hills experiences the thirty-third loop of the time loop he's been stuck in, trying to save the world from the rift. a fic exploring the idea of "what happens in that middle part of the time loop when you've been there a while, but don't have things solved yet?" if you like joe hills and you also like hurt/comfort, this is very much a fic with both of those things, and some of my best with both of those things.

a thing that is thicker than starlight, hermitcraft, T, 13k. after reuniting on an adventure through space, long-lost siblings cleo and gem return home and try to figure out where they're supposed to fit into each other's lives. written for recursive exchange and based on "out to the galaxy steady she goes" by thedepressedcanary, although this fic stands on its own. it's a vaguely treasure planet-like au, but it's also MOSTLY about the trauma your parents leave you and the feeling of knowing you're supposed to care about someone (but don't know how to yet). this is my sibling feelings fic, read it for sibling feelings.

the inner mechanism of a black box, dream smp, T, 14k. techno is trapped, isolated, in a horrible version of the prison with only his voices for company. still my most popular fic, and also the fic of mine that is most describable as 'whump'. i still really love the techno writing in this one; it may be the first complete thing i posted to the account but it's still good. written before we knew anything about the prison, and so the situation is entirely speculative; also written before 'techno in prison' really became a genre. you can tell both of these things, for both good and ill.

revenant, dream smp, M, 11k. jack manifold descends back into hell in order to drag tommy back up and out with him. written in a fugue state during the like, three days tommy was still dead. jack manifold is way cooler than he deserves in this fic (he is also EXACTLY as cool as he deserves). to be honest i don't remember why i rated this one M, but not stuffed bird? if you can read stuffed bird you can almost certainly read this. has some of my cooler weird formatting decisions in it and a WAY COOLER VERSION OF HELL THAN THE DSMP GAVE US I'LL STAND BY THAT.

bad beat, dream smp, T, 10k. techno goes to play a high-stakes game of poker against quackity, hoping to win insurance for his friends' lives. do you like card games? i like card games. most of this fic is a thriller in which they are playing poker. both people who like and dislike poker like this fic, though, because the thriller elements still work. also, my one take on casino quackity, so if you like quackity, give it a shot.

a kind of playing heartstrings, empires smp, G, 6k. jimmy invites scott to a cod empire gathering. an older fic of mine that's a cute take on empires flower husbands with a LOT of music culture worldbuilding for the codlands! this is just a fic that makes me feel cozy and happy. it is uncomplicated fluff.

survivorship bias, empires smp, G, 9k. an amnesiac jimmy is fished out of the water and into a surviving village that exists a few decades after the rapture, but still a great deal of time before empires season two will happen. a combination of worldbuilding of that transition period and emotions about jimmy, who doesn't remember why he's sad but certainly feels it. i enjoyed meshing different empires cultures together for this a lot!

the perils of updating your vault hunters server before even the public release (seriously who qa checks this), vault hunters smp, G, 9k. in which a bug on the vault hunters server turns all of iskall's friends into cute small children and he has to get them out of a vault again. this one is just an excuse for me to write endless Cute Baby Shenanigans, and if Cute Baby Shenanigans sound like they're your kind of thing, give it a read!

it's a long way down if you want to get up again, yugioh dm, T, 12k. mokuba tries to puzzle out why his brother is acting so strangely; as it turns out, this is because kaiba has recently time traveled. a fic shoving DSoD kaiba into the earliest parts of yugioh. he is very bad as a time traveler, and he's not necessarily making things better, but they aren't necessarily worse. also, a fic with a lot of my feelings about mokuba and seto's relationship, as well as their relationship with gozaburo. the kaibas will always make me feel things.

on burdens, yugioh dm, T, 11k. kaiba realizes that jounouchi is both more complicated than he gave him credit for and probably being abused, which changes his perspective on him. violetshipping, but mostly pre-violetshipping. another fic where i write people playing a card game! it is also as much about kaiba having the world's worst emotional intelligence as it is about kaiba and jounouchi both having shitty dads.

-

selected short oneshots

a question for the dead, life series, G, 1.2k. a script-format fic interviewing the dead players of last life. one of my favorite experiments with formatting of all time, line after line of character study with no wasted words. read it.

different sort of soulmates, life series, G, 926. an aromantic mumbo jumbo hears about double life after the fact, and talks through with grian his fears that he wouldn't have been capable of having a soulmate. cute grumbo friendship and also some feelings about feeling disconnected from the people around you. a personal favorite ficlet of mine.

the long odds, life series, G, 1.8k. martyn is invited to the table with the other writers to play a game. a very meta fic in which martyn plays blackjack with watchers and listeners. this fic is like 80% metafiction and allegory by weight, and i like it very much.

a murder, life series, G, 483. before limited life, jimmy and joel realize it's coming via a flock of birds on empires. a fic both with jimmy and joel's unique friendship and a meta twist on the whole canary thing.

task: answer the following question: do you believe in curses?, life series, G, 1.2k. the surviving members of secret life explain their thoughts on curses. a spiritual successor to 'a question for the dead' and another one of my absolute favorite experiments with formatting. another one with no wasted words that hinges on the character voice of it all.

home, life series, G, 887. cleo and etho have a conversation about their new relationship after secret life, given that cleo's aromantic. man, i love cletho so much, and i also really like the idea of aromantic cleo, so this is my ficlet with both of those things.

do you even lift, bro?, hermitcraft, G, 2.4k. boatem fluff about who can bench press the most members of boatem. this fic is still really cute tbh, not much else to say.

like father, hermitcraft, T, 2k. grumbot prime decides he has to protect grian the same way grian protected grumbot in another world. the horror of being trapped by something you can't escape in a box designed to stop you from hurting yourself; also, the horror of your mistakes coming to haunt you.

forgetful, hermitcraft, T, 977. an interaction between evil x and xisuma near the end of season eight. a ficlet exploring some of my feelings about how season eight evil x can very easily be read as abusive and not even xisuma ever seems to acknowledge that. also, the horror of admin powers in minecraft.

to spite your face, hermitcraft, T, 980. a ficlet where joe gets to be mad about how he was treated by hermitopia during the crossover. i just think i still have so many crossover feelings about joe hills on empires, that's all.

as what you make becomes you, hermitcraft, T, 3.2k. decked out consumes tango, as seen from three perspectives. technically three separate oneshots collected into one fic as one story, the idea of decked out 2 'eating' tango is one of my favorite horror concepts from season 9. this is my execution of it.

missed the shovel talk so this is the next best thing, hermitcraft, T, 941. the rest of the NHO throws a party for doc and then interrogates him about when he even got married to ren in the first place. a goofy, funny fic about the hermits hanging out and being friends. this one is mostly jokes, but i think they're very funny jokes.

-

i also have a number of other 'shorter' oneshots that aren't included here for the sake of the length of the post. to find all of my fics, including those left out of this masterpost, check my ao3! and, as suggested above, browse the 'a bee fic' tag on tumblr to find a collection of everything i've written, including things i either haven't yet transferred to ao3 or will not transfer there.

i hope you enjoy my writing!

[popponn]

coincidences and flickers.

ii - blank papers.

notes: fem!burnout artist!reader x pro-player!isagi yoichi ; pro player / post canon au ; self-depreciating thoughts towards one's own work ; fluff, with slight angst (burnout) with a happy ending (a slight hurt/comfort) ; unreliable narrator. a.n. at the end; f!reader but could be read as gn.

summary: you never thought you would find yourself next to isagi yoichi again. yet, like a deja vu, it happened once more.

prev. ; series masterlist. ; next

Going outside, viewing a bright cheerful day filled with fresh air and sounds of laughter around you, several sayings crossed your mind before you finally stopped yourself upon a cafe. Sitting on one of the bar stools and facing yourself towards the people who passed by you from beyond the window, you sat quietly.

The first comment came from yourself, heavily uttered out in your mind, it said, “Ah. Shit. It’s going nowhere.”

Right in front of you, beside a half-empty cup of coffee, was your opened sketchbook filled with unfinished scribbles all over. In some parts, there were hastily drawn squares that illustrated the canvases you would use for your work. Inside those squares were sketches no longer visible, most of their parts were crossed out almost violently under a tangled mess of scratchy lines. Looking at this without your pencil touching the paper, you just wanted to slump down right on top of the table. Thankfully, however, you still remembered what it meant to be appropriate in the middle of a crowded public place.

The second was not quite a comment, actually. It was part of an old professor’s lecture from your student days, a memory that had aged by a few years already. It was said in an empty hall that would soon be used to exhibit students’ works within a few months, right in front of said students. Your professor resembled a smirking, merciless wolf ready to ruin and devour as he stood upright, dressed in black that was more suitable for a funeral than a class.

“The theme is ‘beauty’. Please remember to make it a worthwhile piece. Of course, how you interpret those themes is up in your decisions and angles,” he said. Somehow, those motivating words felt haunting. You remembered how most students paled as the tongue that had ruined so much self-esteem during its career as both a critique and a teacher went on.

“Feel free to show off with size and numbers as much as your space and creativity allow it. I do have high hopes for each of you. After all, ‘beauty’ is one of the most attractive things for an artist, no?”

—sitting at the cafe, years after graduation and even more after that exhibition, you could hardly remember what you drew. Did that professor also leave a scathing so bad your memory repressed it?

Then, the third comment came in the form of your friend, a few glasses behind from being a blackout drunk, but certainly a few glasses too much to still have a filter placed on his mouth. A thick accent laced his slurred voice as he continued his supposed lecture about art and career. “Don’t you get it?! We are artists, but we are human too! Love what you make everyone!!!” he said passionately while standing on top of the restaurant table half naked, his cartoon t-shirt nowhere in sight.

Everyone, just as drunk or a bit less, cheered and agreed with him simultaneously. The stench of fellow art graduates and victims of capitalism’s passions, or perhaps repressed stress, filled the room. From your seat, as the unfortunate yet responsible sober friend of that night’s reunion—chosen via a rigged game of rock paper scissors—could only watch in amusement. Shouting again, your friend stated, “Art is rooted in our emotions as a human! It’s the heart—the heart! Don’t forget that! Express yourself!!!”

Afterward, it spiraled down into even more of a jumbled oration that you couldn’t quite remember. But, certainly, you would wonder if your current self was the one seated there that night. What would this version of you think of those sentences?

Your answer came immediately in the form of a scoff that escaped your mouth bitterly.

“Beautiful things, love, and emotion… huh?” you repeated while staring down at your sketchbook once again. Letting go of your pencil, you buried your face in your palms,“…what am I doing right now then?”

Is there a point for an ‘artist’ who felt nothing when doing something they were supposed to feel so much emotion for?

Is it even okay for someone to make something even when it is not even worthwhile?

“Ugh,” you groaned hoarsely into your hand. Lifting up your face you heaved out one long sigh. As of the moment, you should try again to brainstorm a concept for the needed pieces. Also, you still had illustration work to do. There was no time to whine and feel down. It felt immature, truthfully.

You glared down at the messy, filled-up page of yours. This was the product of your choice, so you had to go on. If the worst comes to worst, you would just consult your client and draw it out as needed. It felt almost like a chokehold that dug itself right inside your trachea, but you reminded yourself once again. “It is work,” you whispered to yourself, “you just have to—”

“Excuse me,” a voice stopped your mutterings right on its track, asking, “is this seat taken?”

You spared a second to berate yourself, once again reminding yourself you were in public that going out was probably the wrong choice for that moment. Then, you faced to your right, answering the voice with a smile, “It is not, please feel free—”

Then, in a manner of a dramatic deja vu, you found the very familiar face of Isagi Yoichi, dressed in casual boyish clothing, right next to you. He paused as he too realized who you were, freezing just as he was about to sit on the stool beside you with a cup of cold drink in his hand.

“Ah.”

“Oh.”

Like a pair of two surprised barely-acquaintances you were, you and Isagi stared at each other in a mix of surprise and recognition. His eyes looked a few shades darker under the shadow of his black cap, however, through tresses that peeked out from under there, you noticed how the bluish tone of his hair got accentuated even further. Dressed in a casual white sweater and grey pants, those hues of his stood out even further.

He looked slightly different compared to the man you met that night, shying away from the party and leaning against the wall. But, even more so, he looked different from the ‘him’ you viewed through the screen three days ago.

A player who truly deserved the titles of ‘Ace’ and ‘Star’ in his name. Someone who without a doubt carried so much passion for what he loves that it couldn’t help but steal your breath away for numerous reasons. It was hilarious in a way, how replaying that one of many matches where Isagi Yoichi played–out of curiosity and a slight remembrance of his name–ended up with your heart thumping almost wildly in your studio.

It was supposed to be a background voice, yet you watched that match with too much enthusiasm, feeling both envious and wishful every time Isagi Yoichi’s face came onto the screen.

Ah–you took in an inconspicuous deep breath–this is no time to think of some soccer match.

Reverting your focus back to the matter at hand, you silently took comfort in the fact that most customers surrounding you either had their ears plugged or were too into their own conversations to care about two people gawking at each other. Forcing your bewilderment within a tidy gulp, you immediately put on your best pleasantry. “What…a surprise to see you here, Isagi. And as I was saying, it is not occupied. Please feel free to have it.”

Quickly enough, the male in front of you followed your cue. Pulling the chair and sitting himself beside you, Isagi offered you a nod that could pass as a half bow as he greeted you by name. “I, uh… didn't expect to see you here too. It’s nice to see you again!”

You nodded back to him, albeit much more slowly, “Indeed, to think I will be able to meet and converse like this with a national soccer superstar, your fans must be seething.”

Isagi chuckled bashfully at your remark, the tense line on his shoulder loosening, “You talk as if you are no one yourself.”

“Having a few websites and prints displaying my name is certainly incomparable to you, please,” you shrugged, turning in your seat slightly to find a more comfortable position to converse with him, “though I am honored to have you know me.”

“Well, I did end up finding out a bit more about you after that party…” Isagi said as put down his iced drink. An iced tea of some kind, if its color was any indication. While your attention shifted slightly towards his drink, Isagi continued a tad bit too miserably, “…but to think you listen to my comments about your painting like that…”

Isagi’s smile crooked ever so slightly, a teasing tone mingled with one that said ‘How could you?’ as light as it should be for a small talk poking. You raised both of your eyebrows as a reply, smiling, “In my defense, you didn’t ask.”

“Hey, I think I did,” Isagi took a sip from his drink. His right cheek twitched. “I definitely did and you just answered vaguely.”

“Then, you probably asked just as vaguely,” you covered your grin with your hand, poorly playing up a faux misery to cover up your growing mirth, “after all, there is no way for a mere painter and illustrator like me to just brag in front of you, Ace Striker.”

“You are…” taking notice of your insistence, Isagi gave up with a sigh. Then, staring at his drink as if he was remembering that party, he continued, “Still that night…”

Hearing him trailing off, you too recalled the condemning comments you spat out that night. “I was… truthfully I just had some shame with that piece of mine. Pardon my manner,” you reasoned, truthfully unsure of how much of it was true.

“Ah, no, I don’t mean it like that, I mean!” Isagi hurriedly added, “I mean, yeah, that happened, but if I know it was your painting…”

Isagi seemed to hesitate to continue his words. You did wonder on what he wanted to say, but letting an awkwardness rise when the both of you still clearly wanted to sit in this spot would be in poor taste. Brushing it off with a wave, you attempted to finish the topic at hand with a good note. “As they say, what happened, happened. So, putting all those aside,” you turned your face fully towards Isagi, starting the conversation from the top once again. “What brings you here?”

If Isagi did notice the shift in conversation, he certainly didn’t bother to mask it. His eyes stayed on you for a moment, but after a brief, nearly unnoticeable moment of silence, Isagi replied to you as he took off his cap, putting it down on the table, “I, well, taking a drink, I guess? I’m supposed to meet up with a friend but…”

As your company furrowed his eyebrows despite holding his smile, you scoffed amiably, leaning your cheek on your palm. “Did they cancel out of the blue?” you asked, out of experience,

“Yeah, his girlfriend and something about an urgent matter,” Isagi said in a way that told you whoever this friend was, it wasn’t exactly a surprising thing for that person to pull. You attempted to cover up your pity at that. Isagi, with hair slightly disheveled by his cap, returned the same question back to you. The forced smile etched on his lips visibly softened as he asked, “How about you, though?”

You took one deep breath as you thought up a response. Answering honestly would just bring the two of you back to the very topic you attempted to run away from–your drawing. But, with a sketchbook being opened in broad daylight like this in front of you, lying would be plain stupid.

You held back a groan. Your headache was probably caused by a rotting mind rather than whatever you thought it was before. This conversation had turned into a devil’s loop.

However, still taking proper manners and such into account, you lightly tapped said sketchbook, “As you can see, work, in a way. I need a change of scenery to try and get new ideas. But, as of now… you could say I’m taking a little break.”

It certainly put so many things mildly, but that answer should do. The last thing you wanted to do would be to express your frustration once again and repeat that night with the same person. Therefore, calling ‘this’ a ‘break’ would suffice.

“Ah, I see,” Isagi’s eyes moved to your sketches. Then, they moved between you and those scribbles a more few times, before with a somewhat timid kind of curiosity, Isagi hummed, “Uh, you don’t have to but… mind if I take a look? At those drawings?”

How you wished you could snap that thing shut and run away.

“Sure,” you pushed it towards him. You hoped your hands didn’t shake. Keeping up your demeanor, you added in a joking manner, “But they are still very messy though–” they are a mess “–I hope you won’t mind.”

“I definitely won’t!” Isagi responded with a grin that carried with it a mysterious confidence. He sounded even more sure than you were. As he flipped the book back to its first page, you immediately bit your tongue. You reminded yourself to appear friendly. “I found some of your work online and I really like them!”

A light flutter touched you upon hearing his praise. It did sound genuine, even if you probably would have thought otherwise. Though, probably, if you looked at your older artworks, you could say that it was made with your whole heart at the very least. Unlike most things you had put out recently.

Idly tracing the pencil you had laid down, you replied, “I’m glad you like them.”

You managed to stop yourself from saying more, somehow, despite the bitter words already hanging at the exit of your mouth. Pushing those words aside, you eventually decided to continue to follow the lines on the pencil’s body once again, feeling the familiar and artificial smoothness on it.

“Woah,” Isagi gaped quietly, turning the pages slowly. You took notice that it was pages of still life studies you did. Just from the number of details on them alone, it was apparent they had been made some long time ago–before the overwhelming weight that made the task of simply opening your sketchbook unpleasant came into your days. There was no way you could muster enough will to put in that much effort.

You stared at those sketches deeply, wondering if you enjoyed making them then. Under your own breath, you murmured, ”Those stuffs, eh…”

“You really are amazing…” Isagi praises easily as he continues to flip through the pages, mouth agape slightly as if your drawings truly were masterpieces. “You are so good.”

Truthfully, the more praise you heard, the more you wondered how you should react. Donning on faux gratitude and humor felt wrong. It truly did lighten your heart to hear it. Hearing that someone spared even a second to appreciate something you make has always been nice. But, even so–

Those drawings were from a time when drawing was easy and filled with love. The you who had walked past that time and looked back at it with nothing but envy had no right to accept those praises. In a way, perhaps you never did deserve those praises.

Many people deserve that title of a ‘pro’ more. They who draw better than you could ever hope to be, they who love drawing much more deeply than you.

You, who dared to say you were in love with your craft once before falling silent this soon–

You have no right to accept those words.

Your fingers drew to a pause, you put a second of consideration before deciding to put that pencil back into your back. “You praise me too much,” you replied, thankful for his kind words nonetheless. However, still unwilling to dwell too much on your drawing, you tried to shift the focus towards Isagi once again, “Also, I’m a bit curious, but do you mind if I ask something?”

“Hm?” Isagi’s head lifted up slightly, removing his attention from your sketchbook for a moment. “Sure, I think. What is it?”

“I thought soccer practice is an everyday thing for pros like you. Are you on break?” you asked casually.

“You could say that,” Isagi said, “two weeks off for a bit before we go back to the usual.”

“I see…” you noted down. Then, the memory of a video you watched a few days ago came to the surface of your mind for the second time. It was a video you played to fill the background silence at your studio, however the cheers of crowds and the close-ups of Isagi Yoichi’s face were played enough times to have an impression of their own. “Still, seeing how hotblooded and passionate you are on the field, I would have thought you would be practicing alone instead of drinking coffee…”

“Wha–” Isagi, unexpectedly, spluttered at your sudden statement.

You blinked. Your hand flew to cover your mouth the moment you realized what you just muttered out loud, “Oh my–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude–”

“No, no! It’s fine!” Isagi shook both of his hands quickly. The two of you truly were lucky that no one paid attention to your interactions or it would be embarrassing–you noted, your face turning as if you just sucked on something sour. “I mean, I usually kind of do? It’s just, a break is necessary sometimes, you know–those stuffs. And really, it just surprised me for you to say that out of the blue so…aha ha ha…”

As the blue-haired male laughed bashfully, you couldn’t help but to follow it with a hesitant guffaw of your own. Letting the sudden jolt between the two of you dissipate, you soon added, “I truly do mean it as praise, though. Even someone who doesn’t know anything about soccer like me couldn’t help but admire you when you play.”

While you were very much aware of how you worded it out like mere flattery, you truly did mean every bit of your word. Even through a screen, watching a play of something that felt worlds away from yours, seeing someone putting on such a wide victorious grin and focused gaze was a ‘something’. Three days ago, seeing that replay in the silence of your own room, sitting right in front of a blank canvas, it truly was a sight.

“Your dedication and such… I will call you a talented genius, but it was definitely more than that…” you vividly remembered how his eyes shone within those footages. Even outside of the field, the glint that stole your breath that day still held itself across his blue eyes that were right in front of you. “...you are a sight to behold, Isagi Yoichi.”

Isagi’s mouth hung open. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck as it morphed into a bright smile–boyish, bashful, yet full of pride that you had come to associate with him after watching that match. And, you supposed, after watching the proof of his hard work, he truly deserved to feel that pride.

“Thanks,” Isagi said, saying your name quietly in gratitude. His eyes escaped towards your sketchbook for a moment, “I think I could say the same about you too, though, you know.”

You blinked. “...Huh?”

“That painting that night and all these sketches,” Isagi continued to flip through the sketchbook, finally arriving on the messiest page of all, yet still looking at it as if it was worthy of something beyond a series of unfinished scribbles and less, “I’m no expert at paintings and drawings too, but I could feel how much of your heart and seriousness you put in it.”

“... is… that so…?” you did not expect to hear such praise. Was it a praise?

Was trying to put your all enough when it amounted to nothing eventually?

When it turned out to be meaningless and–

“Your drawings–” Isagi faced towards you, leaning forward slightly as his eyes crescented, a genuine and sincere glimmer still carrying itself in them, “–I really like them!”

For once, you stilled as you listened to Isagi Yoichi’s compliment.

It was simple and, undoubtedly, very subjective. There was no praise on how he understood it nor on how he thought everything came together. You wondered if this was because you hadn’t heard or tried to seek any opinion of your drawings for a while. Or perhaps it was because you drowned every single one of them with your own comparison and sentiments. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. However, you knew that it stilled you because–

It was simply an ‘I like them’. 

For once, however, you couldn’t feel any disgust towards yourself or your drawings coming up. Your brain couldn’t come up with any reason or anything–it stayed silent, as you could only nod and utter out a quiet acceptance. When push comes to shove, who were you to discredit a feeling of ‘liking’?

“...thank you, Isagi,” you nod, looking away back to the window across you with a smile you knew was too shaky and big, feeling lightheaded and flustered, “I’m glad you like them.”

The cafe was bustling and Isagi had returned to your drawings, smiling even as he replied to you with a relaxed manner, “Same to you!”

Yet again, you found yourself unable to reply to that. Letting the conversation died there somehow felt right, oddly enough. Your shoulder relaxed as you took a deep breath once more. In the back of your mind, the grating weight was still there and you knew it would come back much sooner than you hoped it to be. But, for that moment, it was enough.

Sitting next to Isagi Yoichi–whose fervor had gained your respect–who praised you with such sincerity, it was enough for you to think that at that very moment–

It is okay for you to draw, despite everything.

Isagi turned to the next page as you stayed silent, finding yourself only being able to stare blankly at the air between the two of you. “Ah,” Isagi came to a pair of blank pages, clean and unblemished by anything. 

“It seems you reached the end, Isagi,” you lightly said, offering a hand to take back the book.

“Yeah,” Isagi closed it and took it to your hand with a satisfied look, “thanks! It was great!”

“...you really praise me too much,” you repeated once more, this time acknowledging how it felt lighter to say it. “However, thank you. I’m glad you like those studies and idea roughs.”

“...studies…? …roughs?” a pair of blue eyes looked at you in confusion, the owner clearly blurting those words out of question and unfamiliarity.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at that, “The drawings you have seen. They are studies and roughs. An observation drawn on paper and… a messy note of ideas in drawing form, I suppose.”

“Oh–I see, I think I got it!” Isagi said, brightly in understanding, before then shifting slightly in his seat and taking a sip from his drink. “I never heard of those terms before–or maybe I just forgot it after high school, haha…”

You chuckled in sympathy. “It’s okay. I barely remember any rules of soccer either. I do know you can’t use your hand unless you are a goalkeeper, but other than that, I don’t think I even know what offside is.”

With faces turned towards each other, you could clearly see Isagi’s eye crinkling in humor. It was a good look on him, you noted. The lines of laughter on someone’s face always have their own charm visually, you know after all these years, however, it truly suits his face.

“Then, should I tell you?” Isagi offered, quiet rhetorically as he didn’t miss a bit to continue, “So, basically it’s–”

VRRRRT–

Which he would if it wasn’t for the sudden sound of vibration coming from his pocket. Both you and Isagi glanced down. Isagi made an apologetic face that was jumbled along with a grimace and a subtle irritation, earning a nod and an amused smile from you.

Another deja vu. It seemed like that this meeting would end soon too, you thought silently, vacantly looking at the empty pages in your hand. It didn’t feel good. The empty pang where you knew excitement should thrum was still very much there. It still felt like a hole that was simply there to make you suffer.

But, for once, it didn’t feel as terrible as it usually was–you noted. Perhaps, you could fill those pages with something ‘likable’ soon enough.

“Hey, yeah. It’s me. What is it, man?” Isagi picked up the phone with a tone much more casual than the one he used with you. A bit rougher and clearly more impolite too, you realized. “Huh? What–suddenly? Dude. Come on you just dipped out on me–you can’t just–”

You looked away as Isagi seemed to get exasperated not long into the phone call. Remembering your empty cup of coffee, you wondered if you should order another drink or perhaps move on, either back home or somewhere for dinner. You would definitely have to turn back to your work, though, either way. Your teeth felt like biting your tongue ever so slightly at that reminder, though you probably should indeed go home.

However, before that, you did feel like you had to do something beforehand.

Peering over at the phone Isagi’s hand, you wondered how should you go over it.

“Um,” Isagi called out your name, breaking your trance, wearing a description of ‘feeling bad’ on the scrunch of his face, “I’m sorry but that friend of mine…uh, he kinda turns back with his girlfriend and needs me, so…”

“Take it easy, it’s okay,” you hummed in understanding. Isagi wore an obvious guilt on his face still, however, so you added, “Really. While I do pity that I won’t get an explanation from Master Ace Striker himself, I was grateful for our chat. Thank you for humoring me.”

He chuckled at that, “Come on, no need to be that formal. I enjoyed it all too–oh. Wait.”

As Isagi cut himself short, quickly clicking through his phone, you let him be for a moment. You took the chance to put your sketchbook in your bag and scanned over the table for any of your belongings left. From the corner of your eye, you saw a quirk placing itself on Isagi’s lips.

“But, since we already looked each other up,” relaxed and friendly he offered his phone to you, unlocked and displaying the contact screen, Isagi did what you felt like you should do in your stead. “Mind exchanging our number so I can explain about ‘offsides’ and other rules to you through text?”

You were very glad your head had cooled down, or it would be terrible. Is Isagi the friendly oblivious type who doesn’t realize this sort of thing could be translated as flirting? Or it is? Or perhaps, you were simply getting too many things over your head after a few praises.

“Sure, I was about to ask you for the same thing,” you took his offer gladly, admitting your prior intent easily. Accepting his phone, you punched your number in and quickly returned it. “I will look forward to that offside explanation and the other kinds of stuff too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Explain some art stuff to me too later, ‘kay?” 

“Oh. An exchange of information? How transactional.”

“I don’t mean it like that! But… yeah?”

The two of you emitted a simultaneous small laugh, for some reason. Quieting the tickle in your mouth, you shook your head, “I’m joking. I will look forward to another talk with you. It was insightful.”

Isagi’s lips turned into a shape that spelled out amusement in its equal crooked and wry curve. However, just right before he was about to open his mouth, his smile slipped along with the resounding vibration from the device in his hand. Isagi let his mouth hang open for a moment, before finally grimacing, “...well, I should go.”

Never taking your eyes off him as Isagi stepped off his stool, you nodded. “You should. I will be off soon too. Be careful and good evening, Isagi.”

“Then… good evening to you too,” Isagi said as he took backward steps towards the exit, confident and controlled enough as if he could see what was behind him clearly, “I’ll see you around.”

You raised a little wave that was more of a jest than anything, bidding him a farewell, “See you.”

And with that, Isagi turned around swiftly, a slight bounce pushing his first step forward as he went for the door. You were about to take your eyes off him right as he stopped in his rush all of a sudden, turning towards you once again.

“Oh, also–” Isagi said, a bit louder and ignorant to a few glances thrown his way, “–good luck with the idea hunting. Don’t push yourself too hard, ‘kay?”

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a.n.: and the second chapter is done!!! it definitely took longer than i thought, haha. maybe i should publish the outtakes for giggles hoho;;; but things are finally moving and looking up. and as a disclaimer, i want to remind you that everyone's burnout is different & this fic will never be the perfect portrayal of those experiences. but, if you are in a slump or a burnout, i wish you a good time soon :3 thank you for @doobea for beta reading this too ;;; this thing wouldn't end up being as coherent as it is without u ily;;;; all in all, i hope you enjoyed this chapter :> please do look forward to the next one, i will look forward to any kinds of feedback & thoughts u may have hehe <3 once again, thank you for reading!

taglist: @doobea @mariyumemi @intheewrld @lazysublimeengineer @coquettemaiden @kreishin @yoisami @takotakigum @themigrainegirll **bolded and italicized means i cannot tag you. please do contact me in case you want to be added or taken out of the taglist :>