#while also trying to shift through my backlog

[tttabii]

── 西村 力 EYES ON YOU ; NISHIMURA RIKI

pairing ୭ bad boy! ni-ki x student council president! reader.

word count: 9162 ; mentions of ni-ki and the others smoking cigarettes, fluff, college au!

THE STUDENT COUNCIL OFFICE WAS unnaturally still save for the swish of the papers as you flipped through another round of proposals for the festival. All the ideas had been swimming around in everyone's heads since the fall festival only a month away; some of them were truly imaginative and some just downright stupid.

You let out a tired sigh as you stamped "Approved" on a handful of ideas that might actually have a chance: a food fair, with international dishes made by students, a photobooth with a vintage train design, and a long horror escape house that jumped off the page. You had to admit it was smart. If executed well, they could get interest from other nearby schools and also be a plus on the academy's record. That was worth approving.

You finished up the last file and then you heard it; that knock. You had become used to it. Annoyingly familiar like a ringtone you had grown too tired to change. 

You groaned. "Ni-ki... what now."

When you opened the door you saw the same sight: Nishimura Riki with a crumpled piece of paper in hand and an annoyingly smug smile like he had already won. 

"I know the deadline's over, but come on—just take a look at it," he said, holding out the paper with those stupid puppy eyes he always used when trying to get his way.

You crossed your arms. "No. A deadline's a deadline. I'm not making exceptions for some dumb festival stunt of yours."

You were closing the door when he stuck his foot in like his mother owned the place, and let out an exaggerated sigh. Rolling your eyes, you back at your desk, regretting not locking the damn thing.

He strolled in with bravado. "Come on, baby. Just this once."

You gave him a glare, your heart beating just a bit faster with that term of endearment, which only annoyed you more."I'm not your baby. And you can stop calling me that. This isn't one of your little games."

But you took the paper out of his hand anyway. Because, of course, you always ended up hearing him out, no matter how much you told yourself not to.

You quickly scanned the proposal. A foam party.A real foam party. It sounded absurd and almost genius.You cocked an eyebrow. "And who exactly ae you doing this with?"

He leaned on the edge of your desk with ease. "My bros. We've been talking about it for a while."

You sigh quietly and gave the paper back. "I'll think about it. But don't get your hopes up."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment, and began stepping away from you to head to the door. "I won't. but you are going to approve it, I know you can't resist a good-looking guy with an agenda."

You dismissed him, "Go away."

He walked away, but not before catching the way your eyes lingered a second too long on his outfit. He has seen it, he knew it. You never stared outright—but with guys who know how to dress, he knew he could expect your attention, whether you liked it or not.

The next morning, the wind was light as you walked up the few stairs of the school, the white sundress flowing around your knees. You wore your bag slung over one shoulder, your glasses slipping down your nose as your eyes tried to focus on the paper in your hand. You were mentally reviewing your schedule for the day, already dreading the backlog of reports you'd have to approve.

You'd seen Ni-ki earlier, surrounded by a couple of girls leaning against a tree, wearing that obnoxious smile that surely belonged on the cover of a magazine. You ignored him, as you always did.

But of course, he had to announce his presence. He deliberately collided with you, and before you had a chance to do anything, he had snagged your glasses off your face, holding them above him like a smug toddler with a toy.

"Ni-ki!" You shifted your arms to reach for them, annoyed. "Give them back!"

He just grinned like he was in on the joke, and held them a little higher. "Nope. Not until you say please."

You stood on your tiptoes again to reach, and one hand instinctively gripped his arm for balance. Standing that close, he could see everything. The soft curve to your lashes, the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes appeared so much clearer and prettier and more... you without the frames.

"You know," he leaned in and teased, "you look so much better without these."

Without warning, his other hand slipped around your waist, steadying you when you almost lost your balance. You jolted, realizing it was him, and stepped back instantly. "You're such a nuisance," you muttered, snatching your glasses from his hand and hurrying off toward the student council office, vision still slightly blurred.

Behind you, a few boys turned to look to take a good look at you.

And Ni-ki noticed.

Oh, they were definitely going to be a problem.

As the girls from earlier tried to distract him, laughing too loudly and clinging to his arm, Ni-ki wasn't paying attention. His eyes were still on you.

You had just rubbed your eyes tiredly, while waving small hellos to your fellow student council members. Your dress was hugging you beautifully perfect—elegant while also feeling effortlessly comfortable.

Your hair was down with soft waves and a small white bunny pin on the side, held back just enough. Your bangs framed your face gently, loose and natural. He thought you looked way too cute for someone who claimed to be tired.

His eyes dropped down to your lips. You had put a light gloss on your lips—subtle and pretty but also dangerous. He wondered what type of lipstick it was. Actually, maybe he didn't care. Maybe he would just wipe it off with his lips if given the chance. Those girls would for sure be jealous.

But they didn't matter.

He had long stopped being a playboy, the moment he actually laid eyes on you for the first time. It all started weeks ago in the infirmary. He was only there to skip class, claiming to be sick when in reality he just wanted air conditioning and a decent bed. He was about to fall asleep himself—until he noticed you.

You were all curled up on one of the beds, face slightly to the window so that warm sunlight hit your cheeks. You looked peaceful at first, and then your brows furrowed as the discomfort woke you. A heat pack pressed to your stomach, and you were hugging a pillow tightly. He wasn't expecting that.

The cold, powerful student council president fitted into the bed, looking so small, like a girl who just wanted to survive painful cramps in peace. That was the moment he realized there was more to you than just a sharp tongue and standing straight. When you did wake up, he was there, watching you.

"Can I help you?" you asked flatly, your eyes still narrowed as if you just woke up.

"Yeah," he said, already smirking. "Do you mind giving me a little kiss?"

You grimaced. "Are we deadass right now..."

You then stood up and walked away without second thought. And yet, you still lingered in his thoughts.

The very next day, you caught him smoking behind the school building with Jake and a few others. He figured he was done for—but Jake gave you those ridiculous puppy eyes and, surprisingly, you let them off with a warning. Strict, but not cruel.

He remembered how close you stood when you handed out the warning. Your cherry-sweet perfume hit him all at once. You avoided his gaze when he looked straight at you. He saw the way your fingers fidgeted at your side. Even then, he could tell: you weren't as cold as you pretended to be.

Later, his friends told him you were actually younger—by a full year. The first and youngest student council president their school had ever had. You earned that title by merit, not by a favor—organization, leadership, and grace under pressure.

The resentment that came from the assistant president—also one of Ni-ki's exes, the one that lasted all of one month—was inevitable. Actually, almost every relationship he ever had lasted a month. If not, even less time.

But it all stopped once he started seeing you from a distance. And realized something even worse—

You might be unattainable. 

If someone good—really good—were to notice you, they could take your heart before he got the chance to do it. Someone with no bad boy reputation; who had no gossip flying around like second skin. A clean-cut man who liked cold girls with secret warmth who would treat you right. And never make you cry. Someone worthy of you.

But he also knew... you weren't cold. Not really. And he certainly was not going to let anyone else be the first to warm you up.Not without a fight.

('−ㅿ−')

It was already the evening, the softly lit glow of the sunset streaming through the windows as students hurried about with flyers, costumes, posters, decorations—the whole deal. Some students were juiced and rehearsing on the quad lawn. Others were in deeper planning meetings, but you had just ended yours with the council. Your arms were filled with files and event charts—everything neatly color-coded.

That was when it happened.

Yunah. Again.

She plowed into you on purpose right outside the council room, her shoulder hitting your shoulder harder than it needed to have . You twisted your heel a bit, and your knee smashed into the cold, hard, and rough concrete floor, scraping it hard against the tiles.

"Oop-sorry," she said with her make-believe sweet voice as she never even turned her head as she took off down the hallway.

You took a deep breath, moving your hair back and squeezing the files harder to your chest. "It's fine," you murmured to yourself, hoping to sound more convincingly steady than you felt. 

You stood up, brushing the dust from your skirt, and limped forward—unaware of the thin trail of blood running down your knee. You had a job to do. The gym was the final stop on your daily rounds. After this, you could go back to your dorm, shower, and maybe nap before the late council online meeting tonight.

You pushed the gym doors open.

The air carried that rubber flooring odor mixed with sweat, pierced with metallic clinks of weight and the sounds of boys' voices. You had your clipboard in one hand, scanning the space quickly and efficiently. Everything in order. Equipment in appropriate locations. Towels where towels belong. Floors clear. Good.

And then you saw him. Ni-ki.

He was rocking a black tank and pants, hair slightly wet against his forehead. He was seated at a weights machine, forearms pumping with veins as he effortlessly lifted. You could see his biceps flex every time he pulled the weights, and your breath caught in your throat before you reignited and glanced away in a panic.

Stay focused, damn it.

You took a shaky step back, still limping without realizing you did, and flipped your clipboard to the gym report—

"Hey." 

You blinked up in surprise. Ni-ki was suddenly standing before you, holding a towel against his neck, brow furrowed as he looked you over. 

"What happened?" his voice now a lower pitch.

"What?" You looked up in confusion for a moment, before following his gaze. He wasn't looking at your face. He was looking at your knee. 

Where blood was trailing slowly down your skin, now obvious against the pale background of your socks. You flinched slightly as he dropped to one knee, his hand resting gently on your injured one. The touch was light, but you still shuddered.

"Oh... it's nothing," you mumbled. "Someone just... bumped into me."

"Uh huh." His voice was dry, clearly unconvinced. He looked up at you for a second, something unreadable in his eyes. And then—without another word—he stood and called over his shoulder to the other boys, "I'm heading out. Later."

"Where are you—"

"Sit."

He motioned to the bench nearby. You blinked, unsure if you were even supposed to obey—but your legs were tired, and honestly, your knee stung.

So you sat.

You watched him silently, as he cleaned up the wound, and then unwrap the bandage with just as much caution as he used to dab away your blood, pressing it to your knee just right, running his thumb over the bandage to make sure that it was secure. He didn't say anything again until he stood back up, wiped his hands, then jogged over to the vending machine.

He was back in a moment, and dropped a cold chocolate milk into your hands.

"What's this for?"

"Sugar," he said, now sitting beside you, again not too close, but close enough that your knees nearly brushed.

"You looked like you could use it."

"I'm not a child," you countered, though you were already uncapping it.

"I know," he said, looking sideways to you. "You're the president. Cold, nonchalant and untouchable." 

You raised your brow at him, but he wasn't finished.

"But you limp like a normal person," he added, biting back a smile.

You exhaled a short laugh despite yourself and took a sip.

Ni-ki leaned forward, arms resting on his knees as he looked ahead. He leaned back, elbow resting casually behind you on the bench, eyes glancing sideways as you sipped quietly on the chocolate milk he got you.

"Who pushed you?" he asked, voice steady, but there was a weight there, layered underneath. He didn't look at you—just stared at the gym wall across from him like your answer didn't matter.

You didn't say anything.You kept your eyes down on the page you held in your lap, fingers messing with the edge of it, pretending that the milk tasted more interesting than the buzzing tension between the two of you.

He made a small, humorless laugh. "Figured."

You glanced at him, brows drawing slightly together. "Yunah has always been looking at you like that," he said plainly, like it was something that he had noticed a million times before and filed away. "Especially when I'm around. Like this morning."

You blinked. "This morning?"

"Yeah, when I took your glasses and I held your waist."

You immediately looked away, the heat rushing up your neck as you let the memory wash over you—how close he had been, how your heart jumped and you pulled away very quickly and blushed.

"She saw the whole thing," he added, not sounding particularly concerned. "She didn't say anything though."

You paused, then mumbled, "Could've just been someone else who pushed me. Maybe it was a stranger."

Ni-ki shrugged, like he had already thought of it and shot it down. "Maybe. But I don't usually guess wrong. And Yunah... she's petty enough to push someone over less."

You took the last sip of your milk, and held the empty bottle in your lap for just a second, until Ni-ki took it from you, just brushing his fingers against yours as he did so. He stood up, walked to the bin, and tossed it without saying a word.

You stood up too, dusted off your dress and grabbed your clipboard, and walked off without saying goodbye.

You turned on your heel, and his voice came behind you, teasing."Not even a bye, prez?"

You didn't turn back, didn't answer.But he caught the way your hand went up for just a moment to scratch the back of your neck—anxious, a bit flustered—as you walked down the hallway and turned around the corner toward your office.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

The library was quiet, the soft hum of the built-in café mingling with the distant sound of pages turning. Instead of locked in your student council office like usual, you chose to be on this rare break in a different spot—curled up by the corner window seat of the library, nursing a cold latte, and flipping through your notes for the upcoming autumn festival.

Honestly, you were juggling more than you should be. Between your responsibilities in student council and being part of a baking club—which let's be honest, insisted on running a full baking competition booth—you hardly had time to breathe.

It was a fun idea: visitors could taste different pastries and vote on the best one, provided the participants knew what they were doing. This wasn't a bake-off for beginner bakers. You already wrote of the safety list three times.

But for now, you just wanted your highlighters. You rifled through your bag, trying to dig out the familiar pack when your fingers stopped, heart sinking ever so slightly.

One of your plush keychains was gone.The little bunny with the dark red ribbon. Missing.

You paused for a moment, scanned your open bag again just in case, and then exhaled softly through your nose, disappointment creeping over your expression.

Your fingers clenched around the only charm that still hung from the zipper, and your teeth grazed your lip as your face dipped from its normally neutral expression.

It was subtle, but still—anyone who truly knew you would see it. You didn't show much in public. Stoic, organized, composed—always. But right now, you were unguarded in a way you rarely allowed.

Meanwhile, on the rear path near the library's back entrance, Ni-ki had been taking a quiet smoke break. The wind ruffled his black hoodie a little, and he was leaning against the railing with half-lidded eyes, letting his mind wander. That was when he noticed something odd in the grass. 

A little, dirty, plush bunny, facedown. 

He stared for a second, then bent down and flicked the ash from his fingers, and carefully lifted the bunny by the ribbon.

He recognized it right away.

Of course he did.

He'd seen it enough times hanging off your bag—cute, a little worn, something he figured you probably had for years. His lips twitched in a tiny smile, just barely there, as he tucked the bunny into his pocket and stubbed out his cigarette.

You had just come out of the library, clutching on to the last charm on your butchered bag, distractedly gazing at your feet.

You were perhaps hoping the bunny had dropped somewhere close and that no one had stepped on it or thrown it somewhere completely different. And then you heard it—the sound you had grown unfamiliar too. The sound of jangly chain jewelry.

You almost choked, eyes instinctively shifting without even turning. You knew who it was before you had turned.

Ni-ki, walking up the path toward you, the chrome hearts keychain on his belt swinging and clinking as it bumped against the metal chain clip on his pants. A few charms were hanging loose, glistening as they swayed in the briefest of sunlight exposure.

His heavy silver earrings twinkled from their usual spot, and the fake lip ring—one of the things that always made your stomach twist for reasons you refused to acknowledge—sat crooked against his lip and stuck out like a sore thumb.

His messy black hair fell over his eyes, bangs as low as always and unkempt around his forehead, as if he had just rolled out of bed without a thought. He never made it look intentional, and yet it was so infuriatingly good on him.

Your hand curled instinctively around your bag's strap, trying to act unaffected as he slowed to a stop in front of you.

He didn't say anything at first. Just held something out.

You blinked.

And there it was—your plush bunny, a little dirty now but still intact, dangling from his fingers by its dark red ribbon.

"You dropped this," he said, voice low, casual.

"Oh... thank you," you said, your fingers brushing against his as you got the stuffed bunny back. You couldn't even look at him—either too awkward or maybe just too closed off—before quickly re-attaching the charm onto the zipper of your backpack and sort of twisting away. You stood there for a second, awkward, not knowing what to do, and then made the choice to do what you always did when things felt strange.

You walked away.

The faint smell of smoke was still with him, curling around you along with the warm wisp of that familiar cologne of his, something sharp and clean, something spicy underneath. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it felt... familiar. Even comforting. You didn't recoil from that smell. Not the way most people did.

You grew up with it. Your parents smoked when you were little, and the smell was forever tied to memories of home, of quiet evenings, and cold winter nights. It didn't disgust you. It never had. He noticed. He caught the tiny change in your face, the nuance of bringing the smell into your body with no negative reaction. He didn't say anything. Just stood silently and watched, as he always did, as you walked away.  

          ૮ – ﻌ–ა

It wasn't the last time he "coincidentally" ran into you.

You had your doubts about how accidental it really was.

Especially when it kept happening like this—in places you definitely wouldn't expect him. Like, for instance, the baking club room. Today was extra busy, obviously. You and your clubmates were trying out different cake flavors as you attempted to work your way through which flavor would be used at the festival's opening ceremony. The whole campus was abuzz about the festival, especially with some higher-profile guests likely to show up.

The club wasn't really that big, but was really close-knit. You weren't the leader—there was enough responsibility on your plate being student council president already—but you still pulled your weight, always listening to the instructions and never acting like you were above it. You liked it this way. Less pressure, more time to focus on the fun.

And today was fun.

You were dressed casually, in low-hanging sweatpants and a slightly oversized jersey top, one side slipping off your shoulder, the black strap of your bra visible in a way that was clearly intentional—it matched the design, and you liked the look. Your hair was pulled into two loose pigtails, bangs falling messily across your forehead, and your apron was already a little dusted with flour and sugar.

You stood at one of the mixing stations, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the thick, creamy mixture, wildly. Quickly, checking around to see if anyone was paying close attention - you dipped your finger in and popped it in your mouth—soft vanilla with a warm cinnamon background.

Your lips turned into a small smile, briefly so, it could've gone unnoticed. You quickly released it when you realized. You weren't alone. You added a pinch of cinnamon sugar anyway—quietly hoping—wishing, that your cake will receive more votes. That people would like it. And even if you didn't show it, you love when people like the thing you bake.

You spent time, figuring that flavour out, layering it warmth with some little surprise at the end. It mattered to you, more than anyone cared to know. You turned to help a clubmate ice another test batch, apron tied tight behind you. 

And just outside the door, lingering just out of sight—was Ni-ki, with Jake and a few of their friends, having been roped into delivering something artwork nearby. But he'd stopped when he passed the glass window and caught a glimpse of you.

His gaze lingered.

The way you smiled to yourself—a real one, so rare it almost felt like a secret. The way your top slipped down slightly to give me a glimpse of that black strap. The way you licked the batter off your finger like you didn't even know that was distracting.The look on his face changed ever so slightly.Jake caught it right away.

"Bro," Jake grinned, shoving him with his elbow. "You're down so bad."

Ni-ki didn't say anything. He looked away with a blank expression and ignored the teasing as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked ahead like he hadn't been caught.

After Ni-ki left the baking club hallway, he meandered through the main building with his usual lazy charm, side by side with his group of friends, and a handful of the girls from his class following closely behind him, still asking him questions about the course they were in—but let's be real, half of them were just using the questions to try and keep his attention for another second.

He hardly looked interested. Answering with some short, amused comments. His hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, chain jewelry chiming softly as he walked, their silver glimmers reflecting from the hallway lights. After the end of class, he stepped outside to breathe, leaning a little and then stopping suddenly.

You were there.   

Right on the edge of the main path with your clubmates. You were holding out your tray of neatly portioned cake samples to passing students. You were focused and professional—smiling only slightly, your usual guarded expression locked back on your face. Still, you had a rhythm. Offer a piece, introduce the flavor, remind them to vote at the club.

Jake stepped out of class and you caught him first, carefully holding the tray out toward him, quietly saying: "Try this one."

He took a bite, eyebrows raising. "Oh—yo, this is actually fire."

That was when Ni-ki walked up, that telltale sound of his pants chain dragging against metal making your ears twitch slightly before your gaze flicked in his direction. You immediately recognized the grey hoodie—sleeves bunched at his elbows, zipper half undone, showing a glimpse of his collarbone and toned chest.

Fuck.

He didn't even try to look good. He just was.

You swallowed hard, lips twitching with annoyance, and turned to leave when—

"You're just going to ignore me after giving Jake cake, huh? Damn," he called out behind you, his tone casual but still hinting at that smirk. "What a president you are."

You froze for a second, rolled your eyes slowly, then turned back and deadpanned. "Do you want to try it or not?"

He raised an eyebrow, stepping in a little closer. He still had his hands in his pockets. "Have you even tried your own cake?"

You gave him a confused look. "No. Except for the batter."

He smirked, that lazy smug smirk of his. "Try it, baby."

You exhaled sharply. "I told you to stop calling me that."

Jake snorted. "You two sound married."

Before you could snap back, Ni-ki moved casually and took the small plastic fork out from your hand and shoved a bite of your own cake in your mouth before you could stop him. "Mmh!" You choked, in shock, at how fast he'd gotten the fork around your lips. 

He smirked wider. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned in and dragged the same fork through the cream on the remaining cake sample and licked it clean with a hum of approval. "Damn. That's actually so good."

You were still flustered, wiping your lips when his eyes locked onto your mouth. There was whipped cream clinging to the corner. He didn't say anything for a few more seconds, and before you could wipe it away yourself, he discreetly used his thumb—almost teasingly—to brush it off gently.

"Sweet," he muttered quietly before licking off his own thumb with a satisfied expression on his face.

Your brain literally flat-lined for a second.Then you heard it—a voice that could ruin any moment.

"Ugh. Didn't think she was the one who baked it. Looks like someone's using her position for pity points," a girl's voice sneered from behind. She was clearly talking to her friend, but her eyes were on you.

One of Ni-ki's exes—not Yunah. Another one. Pick-me energy, rude smile, and only trying not to conceal the blame dripping off her every feature.

Ni-ki's whole face changed right away, jaw tensing—but he was still not reacting outwardly. Just standing there, silent. Like the calm before the storm. Pretending like neither of you heard it, still clear as day.

You muttered to yourself more than you were talking to him, "Why do you date such weird girls?"

His gaze darted back to you, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just a little as he tilted his head. "Aren't you a weirdo one, too?"

You scoffed, "Well, we're not dating. And we'll never date."

That amusement, sharp look returned to his face—one brow raised, his eyes seeming to dip for one impossibly small moment to your bare shoulder. The little curve of your collarbone showed under your loose jersey top. It wasn't scandalous, if anything it was trending. A lot of girls wore it. But you saw where his eyes traveled and the way they paused made your heart skip.

"Mhm," he said with a hint of a smirk, and his voice low. "Whatever you say, princess."

The word dripped off his tongue, a bit of tease and a bit of dare. Jake, still chewing on his second sample, muttered "This is better than Jungwon's K-dramas." 

You rolled your eyes, spun around, and whipped away in a whirlwind—muttering curses under your breath—but not before hearing Ni-ki chuckle behind you.

Then the votes were tallied and the results posted on the club board.

You saw your name first again. You blinked at it for a second until the club members screamed and brought you in for a mini group hug. You had won. That cake would be served to our guests for tonight's festival.

A smile immediately stretched across your face as your club began preparing to haul the cake to the display area. The cake, embellished with whipped cream, fruit slices and nice touches, looked beautiful. You just gave them a few quick instructions about not tilting the tray or turning the garnishes around. It had to be perfect as it sat there until tonight.

By the time everything was settled and the club booth was set up, the grounds were starting to fill with energy. Students were dragging props out, hanging decorations, testing lights and microphone systems. Music faintly played in the background, greetings were being shouted from all over the campus, and the buzz was everywhere.

It was only 10 a.m. but the ambience was already wild— and it wouldn't be until 7 p.m. tonight before the real thing began.

Still, after baking the entire morning and walking in and out of the sun making sure every tiny thing was in place, you were parched.

You held your printed speech in one hand, eyes scanning it while your throat started to feel dry and rough. You glanced around the campus yard, seeing booths still half-open—no one seemed to be selling drinks yet.

Then, without warning, a warm hand pressed gently onto your shoulder.

You turned around.

Ni-ki stood there clad in a black tank top, silver chain at his collarbone, and hair still damp from the heat. His fingers were cold from touching your shoulder, but in his hand was a small chilled yogurt drink pack, the same kind you used to drink with breakfast while still trying to rush out the door.

He just held it out to you, saying nothing, eyes soft but unreadable.

You blinked at it then at him. "You looked like you were about to pass out," he said as simply as ever. "Take it. It's good for you in the morning. Probiotics and all that."

"...Thanks," you mumbled as you took it. The cold plastic felt so nice in your hand, and you didn't realize how badly you needed it until now.

You poked the straw in and sipped as he stood beside you, like it was totally normal. "You ditched your booth?" you asked, side-eyeing him.

"They'll survive without me," he said. "Besides, they're doing the foam thing right now. I'm not trying to get soap in my eyes this early." 

"You mean you ditched your bros to stalk me?"

"I'm accompanying you," he corrected, pretending to sound offended. "Very different."

You shot him a look, but he only smiled and walked alongside you as you did your rounds. He didn't try to take over, didn't interrupt, just followed along—his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting between the booths and your checklist.

The assigned students was setting up a horror escape room, and someone from the art department was hanging huge photo booth banners and string lights. It actually looked kind of... magical. The warm colors, everything for fall. The music floating by.

You felt the excitement growing in your chest, but that familiar emptiness was also there—a quiet reminder that you didn't really have anyone to enjoy this with. Not really. Not like that. Most people didn't get too close to you. Some people were intimidated. Other people didn't bother.

You learned to manage. Ni-ki didn't seem to mind though. He wasn't talking much, but he matched your pace, sometimes handing his bottle of water to you without asking when he saw you squint from the sun. His presence was annoyingly... soothing. You hated how comfortable you were getting with it.  

At one point, he tilted his head toward the large LED board being wheeled toward the main stage. "You nervous for the speech?"

You shrugged. "It's just a welcome speech. I've done worse."

"You practicing earlier was kinda cute."

You turned your head sharply. "What?"

He lazily shrugged again, pretending he was too invested in some balloon arch being taped together across the walkway. "Just saying. You get all serious and focused when you take charge. It's adorable."

You stared at him.

He blinked at you like what?

You turned away quickly, sipping the rest of your yogurt drink. "You're annoying."

He grinned at the way your ears turned a little red."Can't be that annoying. You didn't brush me off this time."

After making sure every booth was set and all details were arranged, you quickly ran back to your dorm around 5 p.m., like the rest of your group. The buzzing sensation in your chest was starting to get harder to ignore. You took a quick shower to wash the day away and let the steam take away some tension from your tight muscles.

The shower also allowed you to take time with your skincare routine. You brushed out your hair, curling just the ends, incorporating your straight bangs to fall just right across your forehead. You picked out the little dress you had been planning since the day you decided to host this festival. It was cute, not too much. And it was enough that you would be noticed faster than the guys with their decorated crops.

You sprayed perfume gently behind your ears, the floral scent subtle but sweet. A few pieces of jewelry shimmered softly on your neck and wrists. One last look in the mirror... and you nodded to yourself.

By 6:30 p.m., you were back on the festival grounds.

Everything looked different under the setting sky. Lights had turned on—golden, pink, soft blue—casting a warm glow on students from both your campus and others who were already lining up at the entrance. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation.

You inhaled deeply and checked in with each of the club presidents over your phone and some brief verbal check—in rounds to make sure everyone was settled. You held the speech card with shaky fingers although you had said that speech hundreds of times. You weren't afraid of the crowd, you simply didn't want to screw this up. Not after all that work.

Then the clock hit 7. The festival officially started.

From the stage, you saw faces—so many faces—and just off to the side you could see Ni-ki in the crowd wearing a loose dark jacket and black tee, slightly damp from the foam, laughing at something Jake said as they finished adjusting the drink booth setup.

You swallowed your nerves and stepped up.

Your voice warmed through the field, steady but bright. You welcomed the guests, thanked everyone for coming, and opened the festival. You even got a cheer. When the MC mentioned the winning cake, your name was said—along with the tray. Students actually clapped when they tasted it. You stood at the side, cheeks warm, heart full, pretending not to look for a certain someone's reaction.

Later, you returned to your stand beaming as students were now piling up for pastries and treats. You handed out cake slices and mini croissants, complemented peoples costumes and hair in passing, softly chuckling when someone recognized the fruit tart from your submission. You carefully packed one into a box, waved goodbye to your club members now arriving to take the next shift, and just let your feet go where they always went these days.

Ni-ki's booth.

You noticed Jake first, then Jungwon, both were busy pouring drinks or were busy chatting it up with the students that slipped in and out of the foam pit. There was laughter and chaos, but it was a fun chaos, the type that endears you to the moment, making you feel and think this was something you would want to remember.

You avoided the foam, walking up to the drink section instead, and delicately placed the box of tarts on the counter. "My treat," you said softly, smiling.

Jake blinked. "Wait—really?"

"Seriously?" Sunghoon ventured as he looked over his shoulder. "Are you actually treating us now?"

"Just shut up and take it," you said lightly again, your eyes darting Ni-ki, who seemed to pause mid shake with the drink blender.  

They all exclaimed, "Thank you!" as they opened the box and saw the tart; their eyes widened as they cut into it with plastic forks and started to compete for the strawberries.

Ni-ki backed away from the counter and wiped his hands with a towel, heading straight for you and sliding into your space like it belonged to him. "Didn't think you'd actually come by," he said, his voice lower now, only meant for you.

"I said I'd roam freely," you said, "I just happened to look in here."

He raised an eyebrow. "While holding a box of fruit tart?"

You rolled your eyes, but a smile peeked through as you lightly leaned against the counter. He looked at you for a second—really looked. From your curled hair to the light shimmer on your cheekbones to the little details in your jewelry.

"You look..."he paused. Then leaned just a little closer. "Dangerously good."

You scoffed. "Are you working, or are you flirting?"

"Multitasking," he said plainly, giving you that infuriating soft smirk. "Wanna try one of our drinks? I'll make it special."

You raised an eyebrow. "Do you say this to every girl?"

"Is it bold of you to assume I have other girls?"

"Uh huh," you scoffed. "Wanna look at the line of girls behind me? I'm practically cutting the queue."

"Yeah, but they're obviously here to see the other guys," he chuckled as he nodded towards his friends.

You narrowed your eyes. You're not sure about that, as you caught sight of a girl by the foam pit sheepishly pointing to Ni-ki, and absolutely squealing to her friend. "I see one already squealing looking at you."

He just laughed, a low laugh, the kind of laugh that made something flutter in your chest—and walked away to grab you a drink. He didn't ask what you wanted. He just knew. A little sweet, a little refreshing—something cold and creamy to balance out the summer night heat. 

He handed it to you with a grin before casually slipping his arm around your shoulder like it was second nature. His fingers played with the end of your curled hair, making your stomach twist in ways you hated admitting. The guys behind the booth were already yelling things like "Whipped!" and "Get a room!" as Ni-ki waved them off, dragging you gently away from the foam party.

"Why are you leaving your friends?" you asked, sipping the drink—and wow, it was good.

He shrugged, leading you into the crowd. "The student council president needed some time to enjoy with a hot guy like me."

You glared at him. "Your ego is insufferable."

"You still haven't denied it," he teased, his thumb briefly brushing your shoulder as he adjusted his arm around you again.

You really tried not to get flustered. But the way his cologne wrapped around you like a second skin, woody and warm, and the way he just effortlessly steered you through the crowd like he belonged beside you, it was too much.

He led you right to the food district. The lights here were golden and warm, and the stalls were bursting with colors and scents. You let him lead you to a takoyaki stall, and you could see that his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"Alright, this one is non-negotiable," he said. "You have to try this."

"Why?" you asked, letting him handle the ordering.

"Because I'm Japanese," he said with pride, "and I'm making it my mission to teach you all the things that are tasty."

You blinked, your lip curling. "So you're essentially flexing your culture onto me?"

"Damn right," he smirked. "You need to know what actual good food is."

You and him moved from booth to booth trying mochi, karaage, yakisoba—him explaining each dish with that stupid twinkle in his eye, the way he seemed to be sharing part of himself with you, and you paying way too much attention for someone who swore to not fall into his trap.

People noticed—of course they did. Your usual cold expression had softened, and Ni-ki, the boy known for charming every girl that breathed near him, hadn't flirted with anyone else the entire month. Not once. Just talked politely when someone approached, but his attention always snapped right back to you. Boys who usually tried to talk to you looked away, realizing they didn't stand a chance when Ni-ki was practically glued to your side.

You pretended not to care.

But your fingers brushed his when he handed you another skewer, and your heart jumped. Just a little.

Then, he turned to you again with a glint in his eye.

"Wanna try the horror escape room next?"

You froze. "Like... right now?"

His smirk widened. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," you lied immediately.

You couldn't understand why you agreed to it—perhaps it was how his eyes lit up with mischief, or how smug he looked when he said, "Scared? You?"

But here you stood, at the door of a horror escape room, regretting your whole life. Ni-ki handed the entrance tickets to the usher in one hand, and took your hand with the other—and just like that, he was pulling you inside. His jacket was draped loosely over your shoulders—warm, slightly big, the sleeves covering your hands because the moment you'd shivered earlier, he had taken it off without a word, and draped it around you, and now you were holding onto it like it was a lifeline.

As the door creaked shut behind you, darkness covered the room and creepy music began to play, like a reverberating echo. You shrunk your pace, stepping cautiously. Ni-ki turned around and grasped your hand like it was something he was used to.

"Come on," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I'll lead."

And lead he did. You mostly let him guide you, letting your body follow his—walking just behind him, peeking out from his side, your fingers now clutching his bare arm since the jacket had already claimed you. His skin was warm, and the muscle beneath was hard, flexing slightly each time he moved.  

You almost jumped out of your skin when the first actor hopped out, wailing. You screamed. Very loudly. And you immediately threw yourself to Ni-ki's side, clutching his arm with both hands in a tight grip.

"You okay there?" he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You nodded quickly, releasing him a little, but not much.

When there was finally a moment to breathe, he pointed with one of his long fingers to a dim hallway. "We should separate for the first part that's reasoned-"

"No." You started to shake your head so quickly you reminded him of a panicked puppy eyes wide, as if defiant to abandon him even the slightest.

He burst into quiet laughter, "You're like a scared little puppy." He chuckled, clearly enjoying his laughter at your expense. "Kinda cute though."

You scowled at him defiantly, but it probably looked like you were not even close to ready to cause any bodily harm to him being practically glued to his arm. He merely ruffled your hair with a smirk, and continued walking while you pressed against him the entire time.

Eventually, when you escaped, blinking into the hallway lights as you exited the room, you shoved him softly with your hand heel. "I am never doing that again. Ever."  

He laughed, full-bodied and proud. "You were clinging to me like I was your boyfriend."

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up," you muttered.

But the extra warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. You barely got a second to breathe before he pulled at your wrist, tugging you along. "C'mon."

"To where?"

"The photobooth," he said, smiling. "Duh."

The tiny booth was only about big enough for the two of you—warm and faded with the weight of the last couple, barely lit by peeking neon hearts that flickered with the camera sensor. As soon as you crossed the threshold, Ni-ki plopped down onto the seat and pulled you into his lap like you barely weighed anything.

You squealed in surprise. "Ni-ki!"

He laughed loudly and freely and it really sounded like he loved the sound of it. His hands barely rested on your waist steadying you. "Relax, it's just a chair, and you're sitting on me. I'm fine with that."

Not able to connect with any words, you huffed but stayed put. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, and the slight breeze of his breath on your neck from how close he was. And his hand had moved a little to play with the hem of the jacket he had draped over you.

The camera blinked.  

First photo: He reached up and squished your cheeks together, pulling the most dramatic heart-eyes face while your expression was frozen mid-annoyed-pout, lips squished and eyes wide in disbelief.

Second photo: He nudged you. "Flex your arms. C'mon."

"I don't have muscles," you muttered, but did a small awkward pose anyway.

Ni-ki laughed and put his arm behind you, flexing. The camera caught the ridiculous contrast between his sharp, defined muscle and your soft arm and the look of pure betrayal on your face.

"Wow," you muttered. "Thanks for embarrassing me in high def."

Third photo: you gave up and finally decided to just throw a peace sign with your lips twisted up into the faintest of smiles. Ni-ki did some random sign that didn't even look like anything—something between a thumbs up and finger guns—all while grinning like an idiot.

Fourth photo: You weren't prepared. You weren't even looking at the camera when you felt it—soft and sudden, a warm press of lips to your cheek. You turned your head sharply just as the flash went off, catching the exact moment that your eyes bulged open and mouth dropped in shock, a single hand reaching gingerly to your cheek in disbelief.

Ni-ki leaned back, victorious, completely unconcerned.

"You—! That's cheating!" you groaned, lightly slapping his chest.

He tilted his head, "You didn't say no."

After the photobooth, you were still in recovery mode from being surprised by that last photo—the press of his lips against your cheek, your heart still thumping. And as if all of that wasn't enough, Ni-ki went even a step further.

He pulled out his phone, and instantly inserted the strip of photos into the plastic case on the back, smoothing it down in pride. "There," he said proudly, holding it out towards you. "Now you do it."

You blinked. "No way."

"How come?" he smiled as he was reaching for your phone. "C'mon. Let's be matching."

"Ni-ki, it won't even—" you said, but he was already messing with your phone case. And even though it was clear that the case was not made for photos, he somehow manhandled the photo in there, bent in half and slightly crushed, until it was behind your phone just like his.

You looked at it trying to look annoyed. "You just ruined my aesthetic."

"I am your aesthetic," he smirked.

That was that, and together you walked back to the foam party. 

The scene had changed drastically—the field was alive with glowing lights, music thumping through the air, and foam cascading from the machines like snowy clouds. There were students everywhere now, splashing around, slipping and sliding like kids at a water park.

As soon as you entered the suds, Ni-ki didn't waste any time—he scooped a handful of bubbles and threw it directly at you.

You shrieked, stumbling back. "Ni-ki!"

Of course, your hands retaliated, flinging a palm of foam into his chest. It splattered across his shirt and him only laughed, shaking his head like a wet puppy, sending suds flying.

He leaned in close and used a finger to dab just a bit of foam to your nose. "Boop."

You wiped it off with a glare and then used your hand to pointlessly run it through his hair, making it appear he just survived a soap hurricane. His friends were somewhere to the side losing it over the two of you—hollering half-teasing comments like

"Get a room!" and "We totally lost him to the council president!" as you both rolled around on the ground, chucked, and begged bubbles to go his way. 

You were laughing so hard, you didn't even notice he was standing over you, still grinning, with foam sticking to his shirt. His chest was puffing a little bit as if he couldn't manage keeping up with his own grin, and then...

He leaned down.

Before you could react, Ni-ki took your face in his warm, slightly damp hands from all the foam. He leaned forward and kissed you before you even got the chance to blink.It wasn't rushed. It wasn't sloppy. But it was slow and deliberate, almost instinctual—like he couldn't help himself anymore.

Then, the ghost of his tongue ran across your bottom lip asking for entry, waiting. You froze. And then you let him in. The world melted away. The music, the foam, the teasing voices, all of it blurred until it was nothing and your lips moved against his. His hands stayed put, just holding you, almost afraid to let you go like you would disappear when he did.

He tasted like fruit punch and something sweet that you didn't know. Maybe it was just him.

Oh god, Ni-ki thought, heart racing as he kissed you deeper, the shy ones are always the boldest. He didn't even see the people watching or the foam that was still being thrown in the background. All that mattered was just you. 

But then you pulled away.

Not because you wanted to—but because reality struck you like a cold gust of wind. Your eyes were looking around. Public. You were in public. Your heart dropped. Your reputation.

What if you were just another girl? What if you were just a girl that he was messing around with like they said—like all the rumors suggested? You pulled back quickly, a shaky breath leaving your body, Ni-ki looked at you blinking, his expression changing—then reaching out and brushed your cheek for the foam residue.

You swallowed. Because maybe you weren't sure if you were just another girl. Or maybe you were starting to hope that you weren't.    

"Are you okay?" Ni-ki asked, voice softer than usual and assessingly scanning your face for any sign of sickness.

You slowly nodded yes, even though your heart was still pounding, and your lips still tingled from the kiss. The foam clung to your body like snowflakes, soaking into your clothes, coating your arms and bare legs.

You stood awkwardly, trying to brush it off when Jake tossed you a towel from the sidelines with a cheeky grin. "Here. You might wanna clean up before someone thinks you got into a war with a bubble machine."

You gave him a half-laugh before Ni-ki stepped closer, towel in hand, brushing the soap gently off your arms and shoulders. Then he crouched down, hands ghosting over your legs. "Sit," he said, glancing up at you with a small smile. "You'll slip."

You paused considerably, but finally sat on the wooden ledge of the booth, he looked so earnest, and you didn't want to disappoint. His fingers were soft as they wiped away the foam from your shins, just the tender kind of attention you would never have expected to come from a self-proclaimed playboy. His hoodie still draped your shoulders, still warm and slightly damp from you earlier, and your mind was racing.

And then he left—telling you he'd be right back. Just disappeared into the crowd.

You stared at the foam affect that covered the ground and your mind was racing. That kiss. Those eyes. His hands on your cheeks. His arms wrapped around you like you were some kind of trophy.

Sunghoon sat down beside you a moment later with Jake behind him and, then, Jungwon and Jay following. They were all smiling—like they'd just witnessed a rom-com scene play out in real time.

"What's with the serious face?" Sunghoon nudged your arm.

You hesitated. "...What if I'm just another girl to him?"

You could see their instant reactions. Jake snorted, "Oh please. You're the only girl on his mind right now."

"Yeah." Jungwon nodded. "You think he goes around making out with every girl in front of all of us?"

"He's been different. He barely smokes anymore, he keeps leaving parties early because you're not there... he doesn't even flirt around like he used to. It's weird." Jay leaned in, shaking his head with a grin.

"Weirdly wholesome," Jake chimed in.  

Before you could respond, Ni-ki reappeared—holding two cones of ice cream, one already melting a little. Tucked into one of them was a folded piece of paper and a small flower, slightly crumpled but clearly picked with intention.

He walked straight over to you, holding it out with a sheepish grin. "It's not fancy or anything. But..."

You took the paper cone and opened the note.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Straight to the point. Direct. Just like him.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Ni-ki..."

Jake leaned over next to you, speaking in a whisper like it was some deep secret, "When he goes after something he wants, he makes a move before anyone else does."

You smiled then—your heart flipped, your pulse racing—and looked up at Ni-ki. "Yes," you breathed.

The minute the word left your mouth, his hands were right back on your cheeks, thumbs moving across your skin like he didn't even think about it and he kissed you again. It was a softer kiss this time, but no less full of meaning. God, this was the first time you had ever been with someone like this—someone so openly affectionate, someone who made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. Like you weren't being seen, but rather... chosen.

He pulled back, smirking at you with eyes full of mischief. "You're in for a long ride, princess."

Then, without warning, his lips pressed against the corner of your jaw, trailing lower to the curve of your neck. Your breath hitched—completely caught off guard by how intimate he was being, especially with everyone watching.

But for some reason you did not give a fuck.

[sendmyresignation]

april listening.. been a minute since i've done this 🫣

[lbibliophile-sw]

Proof of ID

Also on AO3 [710w] @ailesswhumptober - day 20: accidental de-aging, "I'm not qualified for this shit" @corrieweek - day 3: "you shouldn't be here"

Fox lets himself slump as he climbs into the covered Guard speeder, finally escaping the top-priority meeting on… whatever it was. Thorn and Thire were also there – a waste, of resources, honestly, thankfully Stone was able to escape – so they can catch him up on anything actually important. It’s not like the natborns listen to their advice half the time anyway.

“Hey Fox, are you ok? Only, you were quieter than usual in there.”

“’m fine, Thire. Just tired.”

And he is, down to his bones. The sort of tired that comes from a multi-day blackout mission that has him ‘waking up’ only to face the entirety of his usual gruelling double shift ahead of him. He wants nothing more than to collapse on his bunk for a solid six hours, but instead, he has meetings, and datawork backlog, and whatever else comes up… Just the mere thought is enough for him to remove his helmet and rub at his aching eyes.

“Trooper!” Fox stiffens reflexively at Thorn’s Command voice, despite having spent the past two years as the highest-ranked clone on-planet. “Why are you wearing Commander Fox’s armour?”

Fox blinks at him, struggling to push his sluggish brain into gear. Why… is he wearing… his armour? Because it’s his? And he’s on duty?

“Oh! Is Fox alright? I mean, obviously not, since he sent you in his place. But I’m assuming he’s with Zontal? Or wait, is he not all back yet after the blackout? It has been longer than usual so I guess that might be a struggle.”

What?

“I have to say, you did a pretty good job of copying his body language. Until you took the helmet off, I really did think that it was just Fox having an off day; most people wouldn’t have noticed anything at all! How would you feel about being on call for a repeat performance? Anything to get Fox to rest occasionally.”

“Thire!” Thorn finally forces his way through the babbling. “Just, shut up. And you’re going straight to bunk when we get back, your triple-shift is showing. Now, Trooper, sitrep. And your name.”

“Uh, Fox?” It shouldn’t sound like a question – his name is the one answer he does have right now – but shouldn’t they know it too?

“It’s ok, you don’t have to keep pretending here. We sweep the speeders for bugs, and we already know you’re covering for him, besides –”

“Thire, enough. Let the shiny speak.”

“I’m not a shiny.” Thorn snorts.

“Maybe not a shiny, then. But you still can’t be more than, what, eight? Nine at a stretch?”

“I’m thirteen. I’m Fox. And you’re being mean. If this is revenge for saving your shebs when you tried to block that Senator’s access because you thought she was her own daughter…”

“What did you just say? No, seriously, I made Fox swear to never tell anyone about that.”

“I keep telling you I am Fox. Why won’t you believe me?”

“Ok. Ok. So, not body doubles, but Force osik. Maybe.” Thorn rummages in his belt pouches as he mutters to himself, finally pulling out some sort of case with a bright metal finish. “Here. I’m having a hard time believing you, because this is what you look like right now.”

Fox takes the case, holding it up so the smooth surface shows his reflection. He twists it back and forwards just to make sure. He raises his free hand to trace the smooth skin of his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, watching the movement in the improvised mirror.

“Thorn. Thorn, someone stole my face.”

Thire reaches back to awkwardly pat him on the knee.

“Look on the bright side, at least you still have your helmet. You keep it on most of the time anyway.”

“But it was my face!”

“Alrighty,” Thorn interrupts the impeding meltdown. He is in a speeder with three-quarters of Coruscant Guard Command, he should not be having flashbacks to Kamino and cadet-duty. “I’m driving us back to base. Then you two are going to go to sleep, while I have an adult conversation with Zontal to try and figure this out. Any further discussion can wait until after those steps are completed. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes Thorn.”

[insert-random-account-name]

Analyze the Princess- The Damsel

Yes, this is the second one I posted today. I have kind of a backlog, due to my own laziness. Welp, on with the show.

The Damsel-

The Damsel is one of the most common routes people find on their first playthrough. Unfortunately, since people find it pretty early, they often miss the unsettling undertones of the chapter, and don’t realize what is so wrong with how she acts. I may be speaking from personal bias, as someone who dislikes the Damsel (not as a character!), but I usually view her chapter as a pathway to the Burned Grey or the HEA. She isn’t very interesting, merely agreeing with everything you say, and there isn;t much to do. It’s also tragic how a being as full of personality as the base Princess could be reduced to such a sad form. The Damsel is what you’d expect; a hapless prisoner waiting for her true love to set her free. She is beautiful but shallow, relying on your validation to make any decision. If you choose to slay her, she isn’t angry, or betrayed, but sad, asking what she did wrong. Only if you ask her to stay in the cabin does she begin to show her true feelings, but those tie more into the HEA then herself, so I won’t go into too much detail.

You get the Damsel by entering the basement without a knife and then choosing to save her, letting her stab you to death to save herself. This results in a Princess who, by nature, cannot be dangerous. If you had even the slightest thought that she may harm you, you wouldn’t have seen her unarmed, and certainly wouldn’t have freed her. The Damsel would never think of trying to kill you, even when you plunge the blade through her heart. She also places her full faith into you. In the first chapter, she had to rely on you to get her out of her chains and for you to fight against yourself to save her life. This means that the Damsel is also unable to save herself, since she never could before. 

The Damsel represents idealism. She’s beautiful, she loves you, she agrees with everything you say… and that’s it. There is nothing else to her. Any substance is long gone by the time she becomes the Damsel. When you try to peel back her syrupy sweet personality, all you find is a paper doll. She’s perfect, but at what cost? It shows, in quite a literal way, how perfection is often a front, and the ideal of what said perfection looks like often has very little substance. The Damsel has no personality, no wants, no motives, no goals. No growth is possible in this form without drastic action, because there is nothing to grow. 

The Damsel loves you, not because of genuine affection, but for the sake of loving. She complies with everything you say, not to help the two of you escape, but for the sake of being compliant. When you ask her what she wants, she says she wants to make you happy, not because she cares for you, but for the sake of having an answer. The Shifting Mound says some very interesting things about her, but what really caught my attention was what She says when you ask her what She thinks about the Damsel. After the typical speech, she adds, “Do not mourn her. She has served her purpose.” While all the other vessels find their purpose in the Shifting Mound, with more hopeful lines (She is part of something greater, she doesn’t need to be protected any longer, she has finally learned to sing for herself), the Damsel has already served her purpose. The Shifting Mound cannot offer anything to a vessel that desires nothing. The Damsel is accepted as a perspective and then quietly put away. Even the ending argument with the Damsel feels more lackluster than all the others. The Damsel’s route is gentle (yet pliable), like her heart.

The Razor The Stranger The Damsel The Prisoner The Tower The Witch The Spectre

(If you like my yapping, check out my other analyses. There's one for the voices here and my one for the narrator here)

[forever-will-last]

New Upload Schedule!

So, it's been a while since I've updated. I've moved (yay!), had a bunch of other personal stuff going on (boo!), and literally today, the day I'm posting this, is my birthday! Yay for being 26, boo for having to move and becoming unemployed right before losing my health insurance! When will I meet the CEO of my dreams who will give me health insurance?

In the last couple of weeks, through a lot of internal debate as well as conversations with a close friend, I have reflected on my fics and the most sustainable way to continue writing going forward. Cadina Week, as fun as it was, proved to be extremely detrimental to my writing habits and accelerated my burnout much faster. (The timing was also pretty rough, as my personal life kinda hit the fan right after Cadina Week ended, and the entirety of July just kinda... Went down the drain, and ended with me moving, so, you know! Fun times lol)

I refuse to give up on these fics, but I've needed to give myself more realistic deadlines to upload, so I don't set the unrealistic expectation of myself to return to writing at a pre-Cadina Week speed, as I simply don't think that's possible right now. And, of course, on top of all of this, I started another WIP because the writing demon within me does not know the definition of SLOW DOWN. Luckily, this fic has a completely fleshed out plot, and at the time of posting this, is around halfway done in terms of chapters already. My initial plan was to drop it all at once, but as you may have seen by me dropping the first chapter today, that wasn't really a sustainable plan either. So now I'm doing weekly uploads for not only this new fic, but also, for my other fics (for the most part, as you'll see below).

So, without further ado, presenting my new uploading schedule!

MBAU Mondays: Expect an update to i thought i was a fool for no one (but baby i'm a fool for you) aka mbau (marching band au). This fic has 16 total chapters, so after 16 weeks, uploads on Mondays will stop. I'll reevaluate my upload schedule after that point to see if things need to be shifted around.

Wildcard Wednesdays: Most Wednesdays will have an update to Welcome to the Psych Ward! Some Wednesdays will have an update to sbau/one night with me and she's making vows (she's making vows). There might even occasionally be a random one shot or other crackfic idea outside of Psych Ward! I cannot dedicate a specific day to sbau since those chapters are simply significantly longer than anything else I write, and take considerably more time than one week if I'm writing sustainably. Please note that my primary focus is going to be on the other two fics, and Wildcard Wednesdays may not always happen if I need some extra time for the other fics!

Thousand Pics Thursdays: Expect an update to a thousand pictures in my mind; in a painting of the past on Thursdays! It's a lot slower than previous uploads, I know, but let's be real, that was never a fully sustainable writing/posting method. As I continue writing, if I find myself accumulating a large backlog of chapters for a thousand pics, I may occasionally have a Bonus Thousand Pics Tuesday. It entirely depends on how this new process goes as to whether or not that'll happen, but we'll see!

Thank you all so much for your patience, and I look forward to trying this out and hopefully getting back to regular uploads AND actually having a sustainable upload schedule!

[mediaevalmusereads]

There There. By Tommy Orange. Vintage Books, 2018.

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Genre: literary fiction

Series: N/A

Summary: Tommy Orange's wondrous and shattering novel follows twelve characters from Native communities: all traveling to the Big Oakland Powwow, all connected to one another in ways they may not yet realize.

Among them is Jacquie Red Feather, newly sober and trying to make it back to the family she left behind. Dene Oxendene, pulling his life together after his uncle's death and working at the powwow to honor his memory. Fourteen-year-old Orvil, coming to perform traditional dance for the very first time. Together, this chorus of voices tells of the plight of the urban Native American--grappling with a complex and painful history, with an inheritance of beauty and spirituality, with communion and sacrifice and heroism.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions of violence, drugs, suicide, sexual assault, alcoholism, domestic violence, animal cruelty/death, mass shooting

OVERVIEW: This book has been on my TBR pile for a while, but I figured I'd pick it up now as I'm making my way through my backlog. I didn't have any expectations going in, so I was hoping to be impressed. Fortunately, I was; I very much enjoyed Orange's prose as well as the focus on Indigenous/Native characters who don't live on a reservation. Because this book is so strongly crafted, it gets a 4.5 from me.

WRITING: Orange's prose is very good, moving from first person to third person to second person with ease. I like the way each shift in perspective also comes with a subtle shift in style; no two POVs are written exactly alike, which not only shows off Orange's range but also makes character voices feel distinct.

Some of my favorite passages were in the prologue, the interlude, and various third person POVs where sentences moved from complete and constructed to more fragmented, like it was approaching stream of consciousness but not quite getting there. The style made these passages feel more emotionally weighty, and I liked the way Orange played with and entangled his imagery.

The only thing that I didn't quite like were the passages (mostly in first person) that felt a little too filtered or relied a little too heavily on telling (versus showing). One could argue that these qualities reflect the voice of a particular character, but personally, I think Orange could have made them stronger.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows a large cast of Indigenous/Native characters around Oakland who are all coming together at a powwow. Each of them has their own reason for going and their own relationship to their Native identity, so it's less a linear narrarive than it is a series of glimpses into each character's life.

I liked how characters were all loosely connected to one another and how Orange explored many different facets of being Native and living in a city. While I appreciate narratives that focus on reservation life, I also haven't read a lot of stories about Indigenous people living in more urban areas, so it was nice to read something that thought about Indigenaity in relation to things other than a reservation.

I also appreciated Orange's meditations on crime, alcoholism, storytelling, family, etc. Orange is not afraid to dig into the dark plagues affecting Indigenous peoples, and he successfully does so while retaining characters' humanity.

CHARACTERS: There are a lot of characters in this book, so to keep this review from going overlong, I'll just speak of them broadly.

Orange constructs his characters very well, and even though a lot of them share some of the same experiences, no two felt exactly the same. Yes, they are all Indigenous people living in and around a city, but they each have their own relationship to their identity, family, substance abuse, and so on. I enjoyed it in part because I felt like I was getting a multi-faceted look at a number of different things.

TL;DR: There There is a wonderfully-crafted series of character-centric vignettes that examine Native identity and community through different lenses and experiences.

[springdayautumnmoon]

I have finished Xenogears

This game was great. I love how the story became such a cerebral doozy as it went on. It did a wonderful job of allowing the world, lore, and narrative unfold to overwhelming degrees while still remaining comprehensible with its messages and theming. If I had played this at a younger age, I would not have been able to appreciate it the way I do, and as much as I wish I hadn't put it off for so long, I'm glad I was able to experience this for the first time through a set of eyes that can see how great it was.

I wanna get to Xenosaga sooner or later, but I think I'd rather play some other, shorter games in between. Let this simmer while I shift my attention towards some of the many indie games in my backlog, replay some old games I haven't touched in a long time, maybe try improving my speedruns, and also finish that God damn video I've been meaning to get out.

[pbandjesse]

I am not feeling well at all. Which sucks because it is for nothing! I just feel so bad!! I don't know why and so I don't know what to do about it. Very frustrated. Looking forward to going to sleep.

We got home last night within the hour. I was a little miserable when we got back and desperately wanted to sleep. We would bring everything inside. James brushed their teeth while I took a shower. And pretty quickly we were in bed. I fell asleep pretty quickly. And I slept well.

I don't remember James leaving for work. And I slept until around 9. When I woke up I just laid there for a while. Not even looking at my phone yet. Just being there.

James said that we were just a little zonked. This is the best way to describe it. Just creaky and tired but mostly fine. I would wash my face and get dressed and felt alright.

I would focus on some cleaning this morning. I vacuumed. I moved the couch and shifted our rug. I changed the kitty litter. I was really happy with myself. Accomplishing something.

I would empty the dishwasher. And make some outfits for the week. And then decided it was time to go for a drive.

I would head over to Glen Burnie to go to value village. I haven't been in a thrift store in like forever. And I had a lot of fun. I had some excellent finds today!

I found two dear america books. Which is always great. I would loop the store a few times. I found a plaid soft dress and a sweater dress and I think both will be great for the winter. I also found a striped shirt for James that I think makes them look like a masc lesbian and that's all they ever really want so it's perfect.

I found a beautiful pearl frame. And some fun goofy wall pieces. One is a really neat piece that's made of silk flowers.

I would head down the road and decided on five guys for lunch. Me and another woman were both trying to do pull through parking and it was totally fine but when we both got out of our cars she apologized and I was like nah we're good we were like ships passing. She told me to have a nice day and I told her it was beautiful out so I will and she got a big smile on her face. It was a nice interaction.

I enjoyed my lunch. I was listing to last podcast on the left which I haven't been for a while. So it's nice to have a backlog to listen to.

I kept going down the road to go to goodwill. I don't really like that goodwill much but I had two excellent finds. First I found the perfect snoopy plush. This felt so serendipitous because I have been looking online for a few weeks for a plush textured snoopy with almond eyes. And this one is exactly that?m incredible. I had a snoopy plush when I was a kid who has been lost to time and I am very pleased to have a new one. I have always really loved snoopy but I'm also very picky about him.

I also found an incredible fleece with a silk lining. But the best thing is it has a built in scarf! I literally was just looking at a jacket like that last week and thought it was so smart and now I have one! And I love it. It feels so elegant but not fussy.

The nice man at the cash register let me know there were more Snoopy's if I was looking for them but I was good with just this one. And then it was time to go home.

It was a pretty okay drive until right before I turned on our street. When someone who was clearly nodding off something drifted into my lane and almost slammed into me and I was so angry. They looked up with me with like no recognition that something had happened and then they were basically diagonal on the road. It was crazy. I was so heated. He was so lucky I did not come after him because he shouldn't have been on the road. It was insane and I was so mad I had to take deep breaths as I got home.

When I got back I put my new things away. I hung up my two frames items. I decided I would play a game. I haven't done that in forever.

Dad called me and we talked for a little bit. About visit next week. About some other small things. It was mostly just really nice to what both my parents for a little while. I love them both very much.

After I got off the phone I sat down with a lemonade and played animal crossing. I built a curry restaurant with the owners living upstairs with their baby. It was fun. But by the end I just desperately wanted to lay down. My head was starting to hurt. Sweetp has been sitting with me the whole time and while that was nice, my allergies were staring to kick off.

I took some medicine and laid down. I would watch a video but eventually would fall asleep. I woke up at 530 when I heard James. James says they kissed my forehead like 6 times but I never knew!! I texted them hello but didn't move or anything until after 6. I felt horrible.

James would try to make me feel better. They made us spaghetti for dinner. Which did help a little but I still was doing very bad.

I took a long bath. And the hot water was very nice. I kept joking to James I wish I was able to bath in warm gel. Like hair gel. I think that would fix me.

I still didn't feel great after the bath. James pulled out another blanket for our bed, per my request. And now we are in bed. I think I would like a snack. I wish we had cereal but that's okay.

Tomorrow we have a nice day tomorrow. Maybe well go get a pumpkin. I have my rhumatologist appointment for the month. I am going to tell them my neck and lower back are still hurting me a lot. See if they have something else they can give me besides the muscle relaxer that I did not like.

Sleep well everyone. I hope you are feeling well.

[entity437]

Songs I Enjoyed from July 2023

i'm not gonna count the time since the last one but i'll try and get through my backlog of 14 SIE lists. Also renaming the project to make it a little more positive sounding.

Good stuff but I don’t have the tools to discuss it properly, though its always nice to listen to really old releases and find they still have some magical tracks.

Took me a few listens to fully gel with the band, but their unique style appeals to me greatly. Dynamic shifts between sombre alt-pop, small electronic flourishes to provide interesting timbres, and metal with riffs that force a emotional focus on sheer presence and texture of the guitars before you. Perhaps reminding me of my favourite metal artist, David Maxim Micic, who does much of the same but with even greater dynamics and technicality.

Charming and among my favourite finds from the battle of the unknowns song tournament here on tumblr (or whatever it was called, I forgot). The moral of the story was to not download the album of every single entry of the tourney, but finds such as this keep me doing the same thing with other categories of music.

While the nightcore version of Rockefeller street still stands as the definitive version, TBH if the music isn’t being performed by a band from within splatoon is it really worth listening to? nah this cover version from a fan of the band works well enough.

Admittedly I enjoy hip hop 90% for the beats and 10% for the vocal rhythms, and this excels in both. Sad, atmospheric, and painting a picture of a lonely night walk. Though not entirely resigned to the problems it mentions, it is no time to be taking action, providing rather a time to think clearly and assess the state of the world.

You thought there wouldn’t be any pony music on this list, didn’t you?

Objectively quite underproduced yet subjectively I feel it is perfect how it is. The instrumental manages to serve electropop purposes, though with the background synth lines and use of an almost pipe-organ sounding synth it has bit of a classical leaning, suggesting the age, grandeur, and fundamental nature of Discord’s character. The vocals don’t slouch either, with the doubling in the pre chorus first providing power to his thoughts, but the sudden slide into harmonisation accentuating the plans he has in spite of the ponies efforts. Further, the vibrato given to the drawn out descending vocal line with the lyrics ‘you tried so hard’ almost make Discord appear sympathetic to the ponies earnest attempt at changing attempt. However saddened he might be at not living to the idealised image Fluttershy might have of him (or what he could be), he is all the willing to stay and embrace who he always has been, chaos embodied.

[theblueskyphoenix]

Hi and welcome to a huge backlog of sketches and concept art I’ve have on the computer for awhile that I decided to finally post in one big sketch dump.

So I have fun little thing known as Court of the King where each of the protagonists get to interact with each other through magic reasons. In this said thing, most of the protagonists have grown up and some even have families. With all this in mind, let’s get on with explaining Fusion King Judai.

Judai at this point in his life has been able to move on from what happened during the events of GX. Took a bit of soul searching and therapy but he’s a lot happier now and is content with himself. So much so, he’s now actually teaching others how to duel at his own little set up known as the Duel Lodge. A place for others like him that are Duel Spirit sensitive or are kind of out casts. All are welcome at his humble abode. 

Another thing he has worked out is his relationship with Yubel. The two are pretty chill with each other and are a pretty good team  now. Yubel can even shift forms now at will. Comes in handy with not scaring people off, and blending in better. Bottom line, Yubel is more chill now and only really starts to get unhinged if you try to harm Judai or his family.

Speaking of, another thing Judai has got going for him is his family. After his long journey of soul searching, Judai returned to reunite with his friends to mend some fences... and with Asuka in particular, rekindle a relationship. Which eventually bloomed into a proper romance to eventually marrying her. Leading to them have their two sons, Kichiro Yuki and Raiden Yuki. 

As far as Judai is concerned, his life going pretty good for him. He went through a lot but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

And that’s basically all there is to it for Fusion King. Now as for what we see here.

Concept art for his final draft and initial draft as Fusion King. First try I wasn’t too pleased with. Felt it wasn’t really flowing all the well design wise. So tried again and well, much happier with him having a longer coat. A nice blend of Supreme King and his old school jacket. Really wanted to show how he basically came to terms with everything. 

Supreme King slight redesign. Nothing major just minor tweaks. Mainly changing the helmet design and re-arranging some of the spikes. Judai can actually take this form if he wishes but it’s rare that he does.

Asuka concept art. Blend of her look from ARC-V and her GX design. She’s a teacher at the academy so gotta look the part.

We got the Yuki boys, Kichiro and Raiden. Both are adorable and precious. Kichiro has his dad’s old jacket and wears it proudly. Raiden isn’t really looking to duel, he’s more into soccer so hence the soccer get up. He’s still a good boy.

Spooky, who is Kichiro’s Duel Spirit companion. He’s a spooky moth kuribo and he wants candy! 

Yubel’s different forms. As stated above Yubel has chilled out so it has allowed some new abilities to come through. Especially for not scaring the boys. (Which Yubel is uber protect of.)

Judai, Yubel and Pharaoh while they were still traveling. (Back before I redesigned Judai so we have the old design of Fusion King.) 

Johan, Cho and Hayato as adults. Johan also did some traveling like Judai but has since settled down and is a pro-duelist. (He has a family of his own to tend too.) Cho and Hayato both work for Industrial Illusion. Cho making model kits of monsters and Hayato being a lead artist of duel monster cards.

Line of the Yuki family all together, ages and heights included. 

And to close out, a sweet little doodle of Judai holding a baby Kichiro.

And that’s it. =D Hope you all enjoy. 

Now I need to work on my other info dumps for this Court of the Kings thing. 

Stay tuned.

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Hello it is I, still awake at an ungodly hour- wait the sun’s rising—

ANYWAY! I was thinking of hero getting swamped with so much stuff that they kind of just shut down and haven’t processed a lot of things. The only who notices is villain, and instead of taking advantage of that like they should (they really should have-) they help them in a somewhat subtly way?

I am gonna attempt to sleep now :D -SleepyAnon

Frenemies

A/N: I felt this prompt on a spiritual level because I’m working on A LOT of stuff atm to get ready for the holidays and uh yeah…Sorry not sorry for how self-indulgent this may turn out 😊

Warnings: stress, burn out/over exhaustion

My Masterlist | Taglist Info | Requesting Information

Hero slumped in their uncomfortable desk chair, eyeing the endless stack of papers ruefully. The ache in their shoulder had grown to a constant shock of pain that traveled all the way up their neck and into their shoulder blade now. Twisting this way and that, they tried to loosen the stiffness in their body.

Their lips pursed, screwing their face up in discomfort.

They were never going to finish going through this pile of paperwork for the case, they were never going to finish writing their backlog of reports, and they most certainly were never going to finish their biology assignment before tomorrow night’s class.

Hot tears pricked Hero’s eyes. Groaning in frustration, Hero doubled over their desk and rested their head in their hands. Taking a deep breath and then another, Hero dragged their hands over their face and scrubbed their cheeks as if that simple gesture could wash away the dullness of their eyes from months of being over exhausted or—

Hero flinched, nearly falling out of their chair. Turning around sharply, Hero stumbled over themselves trying to get out of the chair and face the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

Hero rolled their eyes. Villain’s tapping grew impatient. Taptaptap.

Strolling across the room, Hero opened the window and crossed their arms, not allowing the hovering criminal to enter their dorm.

“What do you want?” Hero grumbled, glaring at their nemesis.

“Come with me,” Villain said, offering them a hand.

“Why?” Hero hissed, “So you can abandon me in the middle of nowhere so I’ll miss the test tomorrow and not only fail, but also so I can’t foil whatever your newest scheme is?”

Villain pouted. “Do you honestly believe I’d do something like that?”

Hero arched their brow.

“Okay, maybe I’d do something to delay you, but not in relation to school!” Villain quickly explained. “I’d never do something that evil. This shit’s too expensive to be pulling pranks like that. If anything, I’d kidnap you after the test. But this isn’t a kidnapping…although I guess it could be?”

Hero clicked their tongue. Reaching to close the window, they said, “Well while you figure out which it is, I’ll be getting my work done. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

They barely got the window closed an inch or two before Villain was grasping the bottom of the frame and yanking it back up. Staring back at Hero, they held the window open.

“When was the last time you had a break?” Villain asked.

“Right now, actually,” Hero lied, “So if you could just leave me alone, that’d be great.”

Villain’s eyes shifted to the room over Hero’s shoulder. Furrowing their brow, they opened their mouth to say something, but Hero took a step closer to the window and shoved them hard.

Slamming the window shut, Hero quickly latched it. Villain began their furious tapping, shouting at Hero to open up again, but Hero simply smiled. Waving at them, Hero pulled down the curtain and turned away.

One day, they vowed, they’d figure out which of their classmates was behind their nemesis’ mask. One day, but not today, they sighed as they wearily eyed the heaps of paper on their desk once more.

*

The warm scent of aged paper and ink hugged Hero’s senses. Surveying the library, Hero hoped to find a desk somewhere hidden amongst the stacks—preferably alone so they wouldn’t have to deal with human interaction but mostly so they could concentrate on studying for their midterms.

Weaving a path through the shelves, Hero ran a gentle finger over the spines. They didn’t know why they did, only that they couldn’t help it. The smooth textures, the occasional softness of a leather spine. It was about the only thing they’d smiled about in weeks.

It wasn’t that good things hadn’t happened to them in that time…it was just that they hadn’t gotten to enjoy what good did happen to them. Between their classwork, their extracurriculars, and their heroism, they barely had time to sleep let alone study, eat regular meals, or indulge in themselves.

Hero shook their head. They could focus on themselves after midterms. Once winter break rolled around, they could take a day or two to regroup and be selfish. But then they’d have to start their term papers and finish those reports their supervisor was looking for.

They were threatening disciplinary action now. Hero swallowed at the all-too-fresh memory. If they lost this job…they’d lose their scholarship and if they lost their scholarship…

Hero didn’t dare let that thought breathe. If they did, they’d have to face the reality of breaking down in the middle of the very public library.

They hadn’t realized how many people went to this school. Sure, they’d passed some of the regulars that seemed to be permanent fixtures of the library, but nearly all the study alcoves were taken up by people Hero had never seen on this campus before.

Worrying their bottom lip, they climbed the stairs. They prayed they’d find a table for themselves, alone and secluded from the common areas of the library.

Passing another table with a pair of students, Hero wondered if they should just give up and go back to their dorm. Turning down another aisle, Hero’s eyes lit up.

Nearly sparkling in the flickering florescent lighting, an empty table waited for them. Hurrying toward it as if there were someone waiting to steal it from them, Hero grabbed the chair like a life preserver and pulled it out. Unloading their backpack onto the wooden surface, Hero sat down on the hard chair and prepared themselves for hours of studying.

Sliding their laptop from their bag, Hero’s attention was drawn to someone sliding into the chair across from them.

“Uh, hi,” the person whispered. “I’m sorry, there just aren’t any other tables, and believe me I looked. Do you mind—cause I’ll leave if you…”

Hero offered a sympathetic nod. “No, it’s fine. You’re [Name], right?”

“Ah, so you’ve noticed me,” they smiled shyly. They pulled their laptop from a beat-up messenger bag but made no move to switch it on. “Maybe we could study together? Get to know each other a little?”

“Like you need help studying,” Hero laughed. [Name] was the best student in their biology class. And every one knew it too. Professor practically put [Name] on a pedestal, often looking to them in exasperation when someone answered a question incorrectly. Their reputation for playing favorites was one of the many reasons why Professor was a widely hated faculty member on campus.

Now if only Hero had known that when they’d elected to take biology. If they had, they would’ve taken chemistry instead despite being awful at chemical equations.

Chuckling, [Name] said, “That may be true for biology, but I’m hopeless when it comes to history. Why are they all named Henry? Or Louis? How am I supposed to remember the Sun King versus the dude who created the concept of divorce for his own gain?”

“Well, for one,” Hero laughed, “they’re from two totally different countries, and secondly I doubt [History Professor] will make all the choices Henry. That’s more of Professor’s style, if they even gave multiple-choice questions.”

Thoughtfully, [Name] admitted, “That’s true, but I’m still hopeless. So how about a proposal, I’ll help you study for biology, and maybe you could help me with history? Think about, we’ll both benefit from teaching the other what we know because it’s still going over the material and on the studying front, we’d be learning from the better student.”

Hero narrowed their eyes at them. Why did that sound like something Villain would say? Scanning [Name’s] face for any sign that they might be able to recognize them as Villain was utterly hopeless. Hero couldn’t picture Villain without their mask and they couldn’t picture [Name] with a mask on.

“All right,” they begrudgingly agreed, “it’s a deal.”

[Name] grinned at them. “Great! Then where do you want to start? Biology?”

“Sure.” Hero nodded.

And so began hours of pounding biology notes into their head and trying to help [Name] keep the European nobility from blurring together in their mind.

Hero had to admit that it wasn’t all bad. [Name] had made them laugh more times than they could possibly count. To top it all off, Hero could finally remember the phases of evolution. It wasn’t until the chime went off over the library’s P.A. system to signal it’s closing that they realized how much time had passed.

“Well…it looks like the dining hall’s probably closed by now too,” [Name] said, packing up their stuff. “Do you wanna, maybe, get something to eat? With me?”

Hero froze, their joints stiffening. “Uh…I, um—”

“It’s okay,” [Name] nodded, humming. “I get it if you’re busy. I mean it wouldn’t be midterms week if you weren’t.”

The piles of paperwork sitting on their desk flashed before their mind. Uncertainty wove through their gut, drowned out by the frustration simmering in their chest. “Do you know what? I would love to. I haven’t taken a break in ages thanks to all my…my studying.”

Hero’s heart furiously beat against their chest. They prayed that [Name] hadn’t noticed their near slip-up, but from the smile that had overtaken their face, Hero didn’t think they had.

“Great! I know just the place,” they said, hauling their bag over their shoulder. “And, if it would make you feel better and like you’re doing something still, we could always go over more of our notes.”

“We could,” Hero said slyly, “or…you could tell me about your next scheme?”

[Name] whipped their head around to face them. Stricken, their mouth opened and closed before they seemed to regain their senses. “H-how? How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Hero admitted, glancing down at their feet. “But you and I have never spoken and then you seemed to know how busy I’ve been and you’ve said some things in such a way that only Villain could say and—you just admitted it!”

Glaring at them accusingly now, Hero watched as Villain’s face split into that same easy grin that they’d flashed them earlier.

“So does that mean we’re not going to dinner anymore?”

“Oh no,” Hero said, “I’m starved. You’re taking me to dinner and we’re going to finish studying and then you’re going to tell me about your next scheme so I can get ahead of the paperwork.”

Villain laughed, hooking an arm around their neck and letting their hand dangle over their shoulder, leading them out of the library. “You stress too much, dear Hero. Don’t you know it’s the holidays? I’m taking a vacation until after the next term begins.”

Hero rolled their eyes. They grumbled, “I’m so glad to hear it. Gives me plenty of time to finish my paperwork from this term.”

But hey, at least they’d gotten their studying done, right? Side note: It’s only been a few years since I’ve taken biology and I cannot, for the life of me, remember anything I learned in that class

[hope-hopefully-writes]

Writeblr Reintroduction

Hello! It’s been over a year since my last intro and as they say, a lot can happen in a year. So let’s get on with it shall we?

About Me

I’m Hope! (She/They)

I’m in my early 20’s

My main is @hopeeternia, I’ll be following from there!

I’ve mostly been writing on and off over several years, earliest I can remember writing stories was back around 2011-2012

I have a backlog of books I’ve been meaning to get through and just… haven’t yet (but at the same time I’m speeding through reading the manga Witch Hat Atelier at the moment, very nice story and magic system btw, would recommend)

The genre’s I’m most interested in lean towards fantasy and urban fantasy most of the time, that also is the sorta genres I tend to write in as well

I’m also an artist, so expect some art at some points

What about the blog?

It’s gonna be mostly me reblogging stuff, writing things I want to remember, projects that catch my eye and hopefully some of my writing when I find ways to get things out of my head in ways I like. It’s exactly as on the tin, Hope, hopefully writes things. 

Alright, so gimme your wips

Okay okay! Here they are!

Academy of Stars - My current and main wip, it follows a group of students at the post secondary school of Astral Sanctuary Academy, their lives, their adventures, their discoveries all while honing their magic. It’s a bit experimental, I’m telling it interactively on a side blog under another name mostly for theming sake. It’s still in the beginning stages, but if you’re interested I do hope you’ll give it a try, I’ll be reblogging that story’s pinned post here later.

So funny story, most of my other wip’s are on the back burner, but I will present one that I know I want to work on after AoS.

Jewel Protectors - JP is a story I still wish to work on, and as time goes on it’s still a sort of urban fantasy/sci-fi kind of story but I think the focus from the main 7, though they are all still there and important, is shifting a bit. 

That’s it! Oh! And expect some visual revamps over the next week or so as well.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I have a request! Can you do something with Nathan, some hurt/comfort, Maybe he is your boss and you go through a difficult situation (illness, death of relative or whatever) and he is the least person you think is going to be there for you, but he is there ❤️ i hope i'm clear, writing in english is a little hard for me

Notes: Sorry that this took me so long to answer! From my backlog of requests. Also your English is perfect, dear!! Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader Warnings: Implied loss of a loved one/family member; depression; anxiety; angst

You don’t tell him. Nathan Bateman doesn’t do any of this—attachment, upset. You’ve watched him work steadily for years. You’ve seen frustration flare, but it disappears in the space of a blink. “What good does being mad do?” He asks, “I’ve got shit to solve.” You’ve seen him excited, but excited is different. When Nathan is happy, his joy is boundless, contagious. But if he’s ever been upset, he’s never let it show. He’s pushed it away. So you try that. You push the news of the loss down, along with your upset, your anger, your hurt. He won’t care to hear about it, anyway. Will it serve the AI he’s building? No. Repression would probably cause a circuit to overload—not helpful.

But—and perhaps you remember this too late—you’re not Nathan. Pushing down the pain, letting it fester and sink deep into your gut, it just makes you feel rotten. You start to lag, your work starts to slow. You take longer to fall asleep, you’re slower to get up. Even the instances of Nathan’s boundless joy can’t bring a smile to your face and keep it there.

On a day where you’ve awoken (far too) late (you assume; in this subterranean labyrinth, it’s hard to tell which end is up, what’s night and day), you lay staring at your ceiling for a while. You blink at the dimly glowing light emitting from the ceiling, clearing your eyes of the unsatisfying rest. You contemplate the tasks laid out for you, if it’s worth going back to sleep. And then you hear a knock on your door. You glance over, expecting Kyoko. But Nathan stands at the threshold. Nathan watches you for a long moment before he comes further inside. You don’t bother to try and sit up like you usually would; the weight of your grief sits heavily in your stomach, anchoring you to the bed. He sits on the edge beside you and searches your face for a while before meeting your eyes. “...What’s going on?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, or bored; there’s an odd, concerned little crinkle to his brow. You don’t answer; you can’t—your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth. You can’t stop the tears that spring up in your eyes, either, and when you blink, one escapes you.

Nathan doesn’t back away at the sight, or leave as you expect—at this blatant display of humanity. He just reaches out and rests his hand on your head for a moment before brushing his fingers across your forehead. You curl closer, grateful for the contact—for any contact—as the tears begin to fall faster. Your forehead is wedged right up against his sweatpants-covered thigh. His fingers trail from your head to the quivering curve of your jaw. “I tried to be like you,” You mumble through the pain, “I tried not to show it.” Nathan doesn’t answer right away, just soothes his hand over your shaking shoulder. “You can’t be like me,” He tells you, and before that can mark and scar, he adds, “You shouldn’t be.”

You turn your head, hiding your face from him as the tears and sobs begin to pour out, uninhibited. You feel Nathan shift beside you, and after a moment, you find him lying beside you. When he gathers you into his chest, you go willingly, pressing your face into the fabric of his hoodie. --

“...What time is?” You grumble. “Little after one.” “In the morning?” “Fuck if I know,” Nathan mumbles, but the lack of heat behind it makes you smile, just a little bit. You feel him tip his gaze down toward you. You’re sure you look far afield from how you typically do—your eyes must be puffy from crying, hair crazy from sleeping. You glance up nervously as he tracks a cool finger over your tear-heated cheek. “Better?” He asks. You hesitate before you admit, “It’s a start.” Nathan nods, knuckle tenderly tracing your chin. “That’s the most important part,” He reminds you, “The beginning.”

[slayemal-na-nerate]

//Okay, so, obviously it has been... a while, and I'm very sorry for how long I've been away, and how I haven't said anything before now. Posting this on my blog that's been on hiatus the longest, because once I'm back, my hiatus will be completely ended across all accounts.

To summarize my latest disappearance, here's a list of everything that has happened in my life these past few months that has added to my lack of activity here.

Horrid mental health, including my depression being close to, if not, the worst it's ever been

Related to above note, trying to start a time-intensive magnet treatment, since antidepressants don't seem to work, only to have my insurance deny coverage for it for a bunch of nitpicky reasons, leaving me currently waiting to hear back on an appeal the clinic is trying to put through

Two traffic tickets, one of which I'm still waiting to fight in court

My car making horrifying sounds on the way to work one day, leading me to discover that my extended warranty wasn't set up properly and leaving me without reliable transportation for long stretches of time due to miscommunication between the warranty's insurance company and my mechanic while I was waiting for it to be fixed

Work schedule becoming a lot less consistent, with my shifts ranging from everything between opening to closing to miss, making my sleep patterns practically nonexistent

Multiple sicknesses and injuries, including my mom getting covid (she's better now, and I fortunately never caught it) and me currently being out of work due to my knees

Pain and stress from said knees leading me to forget to call in for jury duty the night before my group was asked to be at court the next morning, which, in turn, caused my mental health to spiral for a while, even after successfully attending the two days I was called in for after getting rescheduled the next week

Attempts to finish a backlog of chores consistently slowed down by physical and mental limitations

So, as you can see, my life's been fairly hectic recently. I'm not trying to excuse my absence or lack of communication, but I do think that all of my wonderful writing partners deserve some sort of explanation for where I've been. I never meant to be away this long, and I hope it won't be much longer before I return, but I don't want to potentially give any false hope to anyone, considering I've thought on multiple occasions that I would only be away for one more week.

When I do start writing again, I will be saving all the replies I owe as drafts and waiting until they're finished to post them all at once. Hopefully, this will prevent me from becoming overwhelmed by any responses I might've otherwise gotten in between posts. If you notice that I have not replied to you when those mass posts go out, please let me know, because I have unfortunately noticed that Tumblr has eaten up some or all of my notes on several accounts. Also, don't feel pressured to respond to anything if you no longer wish to write with me. I will do my best to ensure nothing like this ever happens again, but I completely understand if my lack of communication prior to this has shaken any trust some of you may have had in my reliability.

Once again, I am incredibly sorry for this situation and how I've handled it, but I hope to get back to writing with all of you again very soon.

[learning2fly05]

5/21/2023

Hello folks! Its been awhile since the last time I typed in this thing. Since the last post, a lot of things have changed here. I believe I did mention that I applied for another department and possibly was waiting to see if I got hired by them or not. Well, I got hired!! I already went through training and have been out of it for like 2 months. The work has been confusing, but I am learning a lot of new things every day. It was a blessing in disguise with being hired because I was expecting to be taking calls once I was done with training, but that’s not the case. First I got hired during this upgrade which made this department I’m in shut their phone lines because of how many emails we have in backlog. Currently, we are still working on that and no phone calls yet. I suspect by the end of May and or into the middle of June is when we MIGHT get our phone line on and running again. Why I say might like that is because of another surprise that came to me, well, us as a whole team. Since we’ve been doing this all without phone calls coming in, then it may seem we will be a complete offline department forever. Another blessing in disguise is that I thought I would be taking calls, but once I was told that I was in specific team within this team, this team does not take calls. I was dumbfounded by this and happy at the same time. It makes me very happy, on top of recent news that we might just totally be offline all is aligning perfectly since I got hired.

Due to the backlog and being offline, we were given incentives due to the overtime we all been given and told we needed to do. We have gotten a lot of incentives and some have helped with us here in buying things we have been needing to get to fix the house. Sadly by the end of this month, those incentives will be over, but we will still be able to do overtime, in which I have been doing during the week. I tried a couple of times doing overtime during the weekend, but that just didn’t cut it for me since it took me away from my husband and just having time to relax. So I just do over time during the week for 2 hours or so after my shift is over. Also, my husbands shift has changed tremendously to a crappy one from 12 pm to 9 pm while mine is what I had previously before I changed departments. So its been hard on us to have any relaxing time during the week with each other. We try to work things out due to it during the weekends, but errands get in the way as well.

Speaking of incentives, I decided to treat myself to getting a new camera and some accessories with my “pay raise” and the incentives I’ve been receiving and points from work. I upgrade it and now I have a Nikon Z50! I will still keep my old camera, but I already enjoy this new one and its extra features it has. I also just recently just purchased a domain name for my website. This was just sudden, but pricing and time was right. My website needed an upgrade anyways and I deserved a new toy as well.

Guess who’s back, back again?! -facepalm- my sister-in-law and her family are back living in Texas again. They apparently were not happy in Kentucky and decided to move back. They are not living with us currently, so that’s a relief for us. I believe they were attempting to contact us prior to ask us if they can stay with us again, but mother-in-law advised them otherwise. So far, I guess they are doing good living with my mother-in-law, but mother-in-law is now starting to see what we were telling her prior of them, so I’m glad she is now seeing it. You got to experience it to understand it of course.

I also have decided to work on my health. About 2 1/2 years ago I decided to go visit a doctor to do my yearly checkups because at the time I was thinking of leaving the company I currently work for due to the fact of my mental health just not able to bare it and almost broke me. I don’t like doctors and needles, mind you through all this I’m going to say. With this in mind, I thought finally, let me just get what I need done and leave. That appointment just threw me a curve ball in my life. I was told that I have Fibroids and one as big as a grapefruit size, with others smaller than the main large one. My heart sank. I knew something, prior to this, was going on with me and I didn’t know what it was. Then I was recommended one Doctor that I saw and then this Dr was leaving the practice and recommended me 3 other Drs. After seeing the last Dr then, life just got in the way and didn’t do much about it, plus it didn’t sound urgent by either Drs. Now, in April 2023, I took the courage to see one of the Drs recommended to me to only tell me that I shouldn’t be at his clinic since he can’t do much for me, surgery wise and the alike. He is more of a fertility Dr, if we were interested in doing that differently due to this news. So this Dr recommended me a surgeon and well I’m glad I’m doing all this now since its aligning with life now and work too oddly enough. Either way, this Dr examined me again and asked for images and as of now they have been done. She totally recommended me to see this other Dr that uses robots to do the surgery. I already have an appt scheduled for this other Dr. Now, I just need to wait and do the consultation in July and see when this can all be behind me. I will definitely need to tell my parents when I see them in July, all of this. That won’t be taken lightly by them since there will be tears during it. At least I don’t need to have a hysterotomy, the bright side of this all. Told some of my friends at work and they have been through this of removal, so I’m glad I told them just for a heads up of course, but they did tell me their stories and they were positive of course. Everything is aligning perfectly... which usually doesn’t happen. I fear that, too perfect. I hope I’m overreacting with this. Yes, I think I am. 

[strongermonster]

my moron boss who’s big into micro-managing and “we have to follow the exact letter of the rules!!!!111″ type idiot just wasted a huge amount of money on a new timecard system at work that we absolutely did not need, bc she had these notions of “””time theft””” and whatever, i don’t really know or care. (also it’s close to the end of the year so let’s blow thru the budget on crap no one wants or needs instead of the backlog of Actual Helpful Things).

but it’s backfiring gloriously on her bc the new system is a nightmare than requires CONSTANT babysitting on her end, and she’s not smart enough to understand the program, or ask for help.

most of the employees work in the back and start at 6:30am. if you swipe in during the 3 minutes BEFORE this time, you’re green. if you swipe in at say, 6:25am, or 6:31am, it’s red and requires a supervisors attention on the back-end. it also counts you as red if you swipe in on time at 6:30am. (...)

all of the front end people like the cashiers have odd start times like 11am, 1:30pm, and are universally in the red. doesn’t matter when their shift starts or ends, what time they swiped in, if they were called and asked to start early, or even if they show up at all! according to The Machine, they are late. every single person who does not swipe in at 6:27, 6:28, or 6:29am needs a manual validation in the system in order to not be red. there are about 90 employees total, and about 50 on an average day. that is a lot of red to have to manually correct. (there’s probably a way to fix this or expand the threshold for what counts as red, or shut it off entirely, but my boss is too stupid to figure it out) this whole fucking thing came up bc of a complete non-issue, which is that our locker room is very small, and the capacity of it for covid distancing rules is THREE people at a time. there are about 35 that start at 6:30am. so most mornings, no matter what time you show up, you’re stuck waiting in line just to put your shit away and get ready for work, and it’s only getting worse bc the weather is getting colder, so now there’s jackets and boots and things that need to get taken off and put away before the next person can enter.

it doesn’t even matter if you show up at 6am to try and squeak in early, bc the manager who opens the doors can barely show up 15 mins before 630 on most days, so if you’re the last bunch in, it’s still 630-635 before you can swipe in.

the health and safety group did a poll and everyone from the morning group agreed that they would be fine with increasing the locker room capacity to 5 or even 7. everyone who shows up at that time except for 2 insane supervisors (including the one who bought the new system) are vaccinated, so we agreed we were okay with it as a good solution. but ofc “that’s breaking the rules!!” so it got shot down. (we also tried to say that we should just across the board count everyone who shows up for their shift as started at 630. don’t bother swiping in; if you showed up, for fairness’ sake, 630 for everyone. that ofc did not go over well)

also, since people are routinely swiping in around 5 minutes late every day (through no fault of their own) a bunch are staying 5 minutes late to make up. 5 minutes doesn’t sound like much, but 2 years of ‘just 5 minutes’ really adds up to a lot of money lost.  The Machine also counts this as red, because you’ve gone over your scheduled end time, even if you’re still at exactly your 8 hours.

while i’m positive there’s an easy fix for all of this, it does NOT affect wages in any way and i’m still getting paid by the minute, even if those minutes are red, so i will not be volunteering to help in any way, and instead will enjoy the next little while of swiping in at 631 and out at whatever time guarantees that i’m red, just to cause problems and inconveniences (: