#Ever since quarantine I’ve just been getting worse and worse over the years. I genuinely miss being able to talk to people-

[flaskuwu]

ignore this I just need to vent somewhere so I don’t go insane ^_^”*

[hatsukeii]

One where y/n has been obviously in love with Tsuki since they were kids and not afraid to show it, but he’s always been lowkey mean to her and thinks she’s annoying and then finally years later she decides he’s not a nice guy and let’s him know she’s fine with all that crap and then he realizes he’s falling for her and does something really sweet for her and they fall in love? 😭😭🥺👉🏻👈🏻 ty in advance. Sorry if this is too long or specific, if it is, feel free to ignore

I genuinely hope you didn’t think I would actually ignore this<33

IM SORRY IM A MASTER PROCRASTINATOR ILY ALL AND YOU ALL DESERVE AN APOLOGY FROM ME

Dear diary//Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Cursing

Genre: Angst??? I guess???

Summary: He’s an ass, but you still love him to bits, and it’s killing you.

July 16, 2008

Dear Diary,

I got to play with Tsukki again! He had his dino with him, it was super cute! He told me his front teeth came off last night, and there’s a big hole in his teeth, but it’s okay, because he said it will grow back. I tried to hold his hand while going down the twin slides but he said it was sweaty, so next time I’ll wear gloves!

You flip through the hot pink diary, cringing at your young infatuation. Your diary entries were cringey as fuck, but they always rekindle something within you whenever you read them. You can’t even remember when you stopped writing in the book. Was it when you turned 10? Maybe 12? You don’t have a single clue.

April 30, 2011

Dear Diary,

Tsukki refused to marry me in the playground at break:(( I’ve known him for so long though, aren’t we supposed to get married? I just wanna hold his hand and hug him and give him a biiiiig kiss<33

Chuckling at the memory, you recalled the event from that entry clearly. You were seven years old only, still an immature kid. You still thought that getting married in a middle school playground was a huge milestone in life, almost as crucial as a legal marriage.

May 29, 2016

Dear Diary,

Love how Tsukki didn’t even remember my birthday:,) Must be nice getting made fun of. Half the students in my class felt my second hand embarrassment from when he completely forgot about it. God, why am I even in love with this asshole? I’m gonna have to go to school tomorrow and deal with all my classmates making fun of me for being hopeless. Brb, currently digging a hole for myself:)

Frowning at the memory, you think back to when you were twelve. He was an asshole then, still is an asshole to this day. And yet not an ounce of your unconditional love and support for him has faded. Grabbing a tissue, you wipe the remaining tears from your eyes, ignoring the dried tear stains on your cheek. Your hand slams onto the bedside table, lazily feeling for your phone. Tilting it towards your face, you sigh at the empty lock screen, accepting defeat. Flicking through the rest of the book, you are welcomed by pages and pages of white. “So that’s when I gave up on this diary...” you mutter to yourself as you lift yourself up from your bed. Heading towards your desk, you absentmindedly grab yourself a pen, notebook in hand. Slamming the diary down, you open it up to the next entry page after your last one, gently placing the tip of your pen on the first line. You grab your hair out of frustration, the ink bleeding into the thin paper. “What to do, what to do...?” You mumble, starting to form sentences in your notebook.

July 17, 2020

Dear Diary,

It’s been a while hasn’t it? Holy shit, all my entries were about Tsukki weren’t they? Jesus, of course they were. At least I was able to get it off my chest this afternoon. Telling him that I’ve been in love with him for years, that was fucking terrifying. Telling him that although I know he’s an ass, an animatronic dick complete with ballsack, that won’t stop me from falling harder, it was gut wrenching, but also relieving to a certain degree. I’m still waiting for some form of response, although I’m not sure I’m gonna get one anytime soon. I can’t decide whether telling him was the dumbest or bravest decision I’ve made. Maybe it was both. Just wait until I look back on this entry like a decade later and still cry about it lmao. Tbh he’s a genuinely nice person at heart. I know that all too well. He may be an ass most the time, and he may think I’m annoying, but despite how hard he tries to push me away, I’ll never abandon him. Jesus Christ, I sound like a yandere here, but it’s not that. It’s that I care for him a lot. Maybe even a bit too much. It’s ridiculous how absolute and utter shit a crush can make you feel.

Throwing the pen down, you flop back onto your bed, huffing into the thick blankets. You stay silent, not sure of what to think of the situation. “I’ll just deal with it all tomorrow, I’m tired of this shit.”

On the other side of the incident, Tsukishima is currently going through a mental crisis.

The blond sits at his desk, eyes unwavering, but focusing on nothing. It feels as if he hasn’t blinked in what seemed to be hours. Just hours of staring at his wall that led to nothing. Your confession plays in his head nonstop, like a broken record that refused to run out of battery.

“The thing is I like you. I’m pretty sure I always have. And I know that you’re such an asshole and all that, you won’t treat me as well as people would expect, but it’s fine. I’m fine with all that. All the dumb, stupid, careless insults you’ll throw at me, the side eyes and sneers, telling me to shut up and go away, I’m fine with it. I know you’re a good person, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Well shit what the fuck do you want me to say?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

Maybe he should have let you down slowly.

But as he stares at his wall, the photos of the two of you framed and balanced on his floating shelves, he starts to reconsider his feelings.

The way your expression faltered then as you hastily took your bag and rushed away without a single word, the way you avoided him in the halls, the way you stopped talking to him throughout the day, it drove him crazy. He couldn’t handle the realisation that he hurt you so incredibly badly, so now all he can do is stare at his empty, blank wall. Did he know why he felt that way? No. He didn’t and still doesn’t. He’s Tsukishima fucking Kei, the emotionless, provoking, unlikeable king, yet a mere girl is somehow able to mess with his mind so badly, that all he can do is wallow in regret and confusion? What is this weird feeling? His throat itches, his heart is beating like crazy, sweat starting to gather around his temples. He clamps his two hands together, slamming his forehead onto them and squeezing his eyes shut.

How could I have been so dense?

How was he unable to see that you were absolutely in love with him? Even with the bento boxes, birthday gifts, constant compliments, he still only ever thought you liked him as a friend. However he never did. He likes you more than that. Way more. Yes, he thought, and still thinks you can be annoying at times, especially when you nag at him about not eating enough or being rude, but it was undeniable that there was something else he felt. But his stupid ass shitty ego would never let him admit it. And now that you finally confessed, he freaked out and fucked up. Even then, he didn’t think it would affect him to this extent.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you (Y/N).”

He says that over and over again, desperate to cloud out the disagreeing thoughts in his head that scream otherwise.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

The guilt didn’t go away.

In fact, now that he’s said all that, he feels even worse. Oh how much he wants to find you right this second, wrap you in his arms, tell you how incredibly sorry he is, but he can’t. He doesn’t deserve to do that. His heart is begging for him to just get out of the house and run to yours as fast as he could, but his body won’t move. He wants to cry. Scream. Shout. Throw something. Shatter something. But most of all, he wants to get another chance.

Picking up his phone, he hesitates, before typing in your contact, the cleared out, empty chatroom showing up on his screen. Going as fast as his fingers could, he typed out the one sentence he’s been dying to let out.

“It was a middle school crush, but I’m still into you. I always have been.”

Is it just me, or is this bad-

Idk man it seems like all my fics are pretty much the same and I hate it😌

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @justachillgirl @trashcanweeb @just-another-bored-writer @poppirocks @majorfangirl37 @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @itmekisuu @skyeackermans @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @shoutsukii @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @thirstyvolleyballhoe @iwaixiumi @iwaigroomi @inlwlevi

Feel free to comment or pm to be added to taglist!

I’m back to writing lmao I’m bored in two week quarantine rn

Edit: cue me realising I was half asleep and missed something in the request don’t be surprised if I repost this💀💀💀💀

Btw the hq manga just ended time to cry

💕💕💕💕

[drawlfoy]

Colorblind

masterlist request guidelines yes ma’am i’m back

pairing: draco x gryffindor!reader

request: yes! thank you kind anon :) this is the first request that really got me out of my writer’s block so i appreciate it!

summary: soulmate!au where the entire world is black and white except for your soulmate. y/n’s situation is a bit...unconventional. 

warnings: swearing and a little gore but it’s not explicit at all and just a mention

a/n: helloooooooo everyone! i know i’ve technically been “back from the dead” for nearly a month now, but this is the first time i’ve decided to jump back into writing. i’ve been working on the wonders of ohio bit by bit and have been horrified to see just how much my writing has deteriorated since last summer (when i was writing 1k words+ a day). i’d like to get into writing genuine original work during this quarantine, so i’m using my blog as a chance to polish up my own writing and work the kinks out before i touch my original ideas. thanks for being so patient with me !

music recs: figure 8 from peach pit, don’t delete the kisses from wolf alice, and bad things from cailin russo

word count: 3,098

Y/N frowned as she stirred the honey into her tea, watching the sugary swirls as they dissolved into the bottom of what she had been told was an amber drink. Her best friend, Tina, sat across from her in her snug Gryffindor robes, energetically recounting just how beautiful the color blue was.

“I had no idea, Y/N,” the brunette gushed, her cold triangle of buttered toast lying long forgotten on her plate as her hands added animation to her story. “You have to see it. He told me that the red in our robes brings out my eyes too--something about the color wheel and how green is opposite of red--and we made each other hold up our things so we could see what color its meant to be...honestly, it was such a dream...”

Even though Y/N was thrilled that Tina had found her soulmate in the convenient place of the Ravenclaw house--really, she was ecstatic for her friend--she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. She did quell the bitterness and envy that threatened to crawl its way up out of her throat, instead choosing to sit and pretend to listen as her own thoughts trailed off with a vacant smile on her face.

She’d been alive for 16 years, seen everyone there is to see at Hogwarts, traveled to every country that had a sizable young magic population, and had let her parents submit pictures of her to wizarding families all across the globe--only to still live in a dull world of simple blacks, whites, and greys. Friends like Tina had told her vibrant stories of the stunning hues of green, blue, red, purple, and gold, but Y/N had no way of knowing what they actually looked like, relying instead on her parents’ soft explanation of green as the color of life, blue as the color of peace, red as passion and anger, and yellow as the feeling of the sun hitting your skin after a long winter. 

Infuriating. She despised the security questions she had to fill out to open her Gringotts account (What’s your soulmate’s surname? What’s your favorite color?) and the unimpressed look of the goblin teller as they quietly conferred with her parents (”Sir, we rarely have complaints over this--statistically speaking, soulmates are found by the time a wizard or witch is old enough to handle money...). 

In other news, her love life was barren and dry, and at the end of the day, it was better to just not dwell on where she fell short. 

“I’ll stop going on about me,” Tina said, finally reaching down for her breakfast. “I want to hear about you. I’m so sorry that you have to put up with that crabby posh Daddy’s boy in Potions. You have my moral support. Always.”

“You mean Malfoy?”

Tina quirked an eyebrow as she took a sip of her own tea. “Yeah. Y/N, I have no clue how you’ve gone so long without being put off by that wanker. He’s so annoying. I know you don’t believe me, but you’re about to see for yourself in...erm..” She made a show of checking her pocket watch. “Less than an hour.”

“He doesn’t seem that bad,” Y/N countered. “I’ve spoken to him once or twice in the library. Doesn’t have much to say, but he was cordial. I’m not horrendously upset that we were assigned to be partners.”

“Did he know you were a Gryffindor?”

“I have no idea. Neither of us were wearing our robes, so I couldn’t tell you.”

Y/N’s friend rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re going to be singing a very different tune come lunch. Trust me.”

<^>

The wooden stool that Y/N was perched on was uncomfortably wobbly as she waited, albeit a little nervously, for her potions partner to arrive. It had been an unwelcome selection process--or perhaps, lackthereof--that began with Slughorn reading off a canned speech regarding house unity and the importance of bridging the gap between old rivalries and ended with groups that consisted of one Slytherin and one Gryffindor and directions to create an immaculate Draught of Peace.

Not her favorite way to spend a Friday morning, but she admitted to herself that it could be far worse. She could be paired up with one of Malfoy’s goons--Crabbe or Goyle--who were by far much more obnoxious.

A slight movement in the corner of her eye pulled her attention back to the present. Y/N started at the dark figure standing by the empty stool next to her.

“Excuse me,” Malfoy said simply, placing his satchel on the table in front of them and sitting.

Y/N sent him a weak smile as she unrolled her parchment and began reviewing the ingredients. 

“I don’t mean to sound brash,” she began as she sorted the ingredients at their table, “but I’m pretty good at Potions. If you want to, you can just read the directions while I prepare everything.”

He seemed like he wasn’t quite listening to what she was saying, instead his eyes, unfocused and slightly cloudy, were settled on her braid that snaked around her shoulder.”Er, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Okay.”

As the pair began, Y/N couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy looked tired. His normally pristine and glowing skin looked dull and lifeless, decorated with dark eye bags under his slate-grey eyes. She was struck with a sudden desire to ask if he was alright but decided against it. The furrow in his brow as he glanced over the directions reminded her that they were simply partners for the week--and that Slytherins generally got into a hissy fit if people tried to act too buddy-buddy with them too quickly.

“Add the moonstone until it starts to steam,” he said after a few moments, apparently not noticing that she was already emptying the powdered moonstone into the cauldron. “Stir until completely dissolved.”

“Add syrup of hellebore.”

“Stir until the consistency is akin to cream.”

This went on for the rest of the lesson--Malfoy softly instructing her while Y/N consulted her own set of directions, just in case. As she worked, she couldn’t help but notice how unusual his hair was. It was unlike any other white she’d ever seen before--instead, it had some kind of warm hue to it. Y/N knew that no one her age actually had naturally white hair--Malfoy clearly had some iteration of “blond”, whatever that meant--but all the other light haired  wizards she had met had slightly grey tinges in their hair...not whatever he had going on. She shrugged it off and kept stirring.

An hour passed by much quicker than anticipated, and to her surprise, Malfoy never said anything even mildly irritating. Y/N stored this tidbit of information away with the interest of asking Tina why she thought he was such a dickwad. 

“I think that’s all we have to do today,” Malfoy said once they had added the porcupine quills and set the lid on for the night. 

“We really let it sit here until Monday?” she questioned, reviewing the parchment one more time. “That seems a little excessive.”

“Well, it’s not like--” He began waspishly before he took a breath and cast his eyes to the ceiling. “Er, I mean, I know that Slughorn casts a preservation spell on them over the weekend. There’s really no other way to do it without booking an entire day.” 

“I guess that makes sense.” 

He sent a surprisingly soft smile her way. It appeared that they had finished earlier than the rest of the students and had a couple more minutes until they were dismissed, so the silence around them was tense. Y/N decided to take a risk and ask something she assumed everyone, especially someone as allegedly ostentatious as Malfoy, liked talking about.

“So,” she began casually, twiddling her thumbs under the desk, “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

The few moments of complete and absolute quiet that followed after this question prompted her to send a glance over to Malfoy, who looked...completely stricken?

“Er....” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked her up and down. “Yes?”

Y/N had never had an interaction so awkward as she waited, tense and very weirded out, for him to just go ahead and pose the question back to her so she could break the ice and complain about how she’d searched far and wide for her soulmate and failed--but it never came. Malfoy just stared at her for another few heartbeats before he shut his slightly gaped mouth and turned to pack up his belongings.

Not another word was exchanged between them until Slughorn officially announced that they were all dismissed as long as their brewing stations were spotless. 

Malfoy was out the door before she even had a chance to say goodbye.

<^>

“So?” Tina sat at the edge of her seat, waiting for her friend to relay all the details of her potions adventure.

“Super weird,” Y/N answered. “He was nice. Didn’t say anything mean about my house or parents or wealth or anything. I asked him about his soulmate, though, and he totally clammed up.”

Tina’s eyes narrowed as she shifted on her bench and drew closer. “I haven’t heard a whisper of anything about his soulmate. Poor bloke probably doesn’t have one. I’m not surprised...no one deserves to be stuck with him forever.”

“No, that’s not it,” Y/N countered. “First of all, he’s not bad. I told you. Second of all, he told me he had one and looked at me like I was stupid for not knowing. It was weird.”

“I wouldn’t sweat it. He probably thinks he’s so important and sought after that all anyone talks about is him and was just offended that you didn’t know, I guess. This is what I mean. He’s such a prick.”

“Maybe.” Y/N found herself looking over to the Slytherin table, her eyes stopping on the curiously colored hair of a certain 6th year. He seemed especially down, hardly touching the spoon in his stew and choosing to look like the definition of angst instead. 

But in a very attractive way she admitted to herself. There was no denying it--Draco Malfoy was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way, like how paintings of imaginary places that you’ll never be able to actually visit for yourself are beautiful. 

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, jarring her out of her whimsical train of thought and bringing a blush to her cheeks. For once, she was relieved that no one could see her in color.

<^>

By the time Monday rolled around, Y/N was feeling more and more uneasy about her whole situation. Malfoy ignited some kind of weird feeling deep inside of her--almost like butterflies--as he absentmindedly tapped his lips with his quill, studying the directions sheet in front of them.

“How was your weekend?��� Y/N asked, her voice a little pitchier than she would’ve liked. He arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at this, hardly even bothering to glance her direction. 

“The usual,” he drawled. “I studied, mostly.”

“Nice. Way to keep us all on our toes.”

The slight smile that stretched across his face and the dimples that followed nearly made her knees weak, her hand shooting out to grasp the edge of the table before they gave in. “Yeah. You know me. The wild card.” His voice seemed bored, but she was just glad that the words coming out of his mouth weren’t entirely insufferable. 

Y/N sent him a soft smile, fiddling with the edges of her robes. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tina watching them intently.

“We only have to stir it 12 times counter clockwise and 14 times clockwise and add the unicorn horn powder before we let it simmer until Wednesday,” Y/N mused as she finally tossed the parchment back on the table. “Easy work. We should be done in about a half hour, give or take.”

They made quick work of the directions, the smell of their potion taking an amiable lilac like scent. 

“I think that means we didn’t royally fuck it up,” Draco offered as she rolled her sleeves back down and settled into the stool next to him.

Y/N smirked at him, a glimmer in her eyes. “We? Don’t you mean me?”

He laughed stiffly before immediately sobering up and packing up his things. “Sure. I’m going to ask Slughorn if I can leave early. See you.”

With that, he got up and left her alone. At face value, Y/N didn’t expect the situation to mean that much to her, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth and stung more than expected.

Shake out of it, Y/N, she chided herself. What does it matter, anyways?

<^>

A knock on her dorm room shook her out of a particularly thrilling study session for her DADA exam, whose notes she promptly shoved into her satchel at the suggestion of a welcome distraction.

“Come in!” she called. 

The door opened to reveal a particularly devious looking Tina. “I come with questions.”

“Please distract me from that tragic exam tomorrow,” she moaned, throwing herself on her bed. “Anything is better than thinking about it.”

Tina’s lip quirked as she settled down next to her friend. “It’s about your dear Potions partner.”

“What about him?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at him today.” Tina propped her chin up into her hand. “You like him.”

“I most certainly do not!” Y/N said hotly. “I mean...I think he’s cute, and his hair reflects the light in this really cool way, but no! I’m not an idiot!”

“Of course you’re not an idiot,” Tina soothed. “He’s objectively a very pretty person. No harm in appreciating that. And now that you’ve spent a little more time with him, and you’re realizing that maybe he isn’t an arsehole, I could totally understand why you’d develop feelings for him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“How am I being ridiculous?”

“He’s already found his soulmate, Tina. I’m not masochistic enough to want to pine after a boy who already has his person.” As the weight of the words sunk in, Y/N could feel her chest tighten for just a moment. Tina just kept watching as she moved to gently wrap a hand around her shoulder.

“So say I do like him, just a little bit,” Y/N continued as her voice grew softer. “Say I actually let myself develop feelings for him even though I know there’s no way he’s my soulmate. Say I actually give in and have to see him every day knowing that he’s in love with someone else. Don’t you think that’s a little too much for me? I want to find my soulmate! I don’t want to mess around with anyone unless it’s with them.”

Her friend was quiet, but she moved her arm to wrap around Y/N’s frame. 

“I’d just really like to find my soulmate already,” Y/N finished up. “And I’m afraid that they’re not even out there. So, no. No detours allowed.”

Tina smiled a little at this, sitting up to instead pat her friend on the back. “You’ve always been the more focused one. I respect that. But I am saying that there’s no harm in seeing other people while you wait.”

Y/N shrugged. “Yeah. Fairs. Now, I hate to say this, but I have a list of spells a metre long just waiting to be memorized for the exam tomorrow. I’d love to tell you the rest of all my gushy secrets once that’s taken care of.”

“Of course!” Tina kissed her friend on the cheek and skipped off. “Just don’t go too crazy studying. I still need a best friend to bitch to at breakfast.”

“No promises!”

<^> 

“Add a little more powdered moonstone,” Malfoy instructed from her right, “Just until it starts to boil.” 

Y/N went to reach for it, catching a glimpse of her partner on the way. There was something just so magnetizing about him, something so delicate and stunning. She couldn’t help but feel a quick twinge of envy for whoever his soulmate was. 

The sound of the moonstone slipping into the potion pulled her back into reality, and she quickly stirred to avoid an unwelcome explosion. 

“And now the chopped gillyweed.” 

Y/N turned to their stockpile of ingredients, only to see whole cloves of gillyweed.

“I have to confess something,” she said, still stirring vigorously. Malfoy snapped to attention so quickly it almost made her jump. “I’m shit with a knife. Can you chop it for me? I have to keep stirring this anyways.”

What looked like disappointment flashed across his face for just a moment before he stood up and reached for a knife. “Sure.”

Y/N nodded and turned back to the concoction, careful to make sure that the moonstone wasn’t clumping together at the surface as she waited for Malfoy to be done with the gillyweed.

“Fuck!” 

Y/N turned to see Malfoy’s hand covered in--no way.

His hand was covered in blood, as was the knife that was held tightly by his right hand. 

“Fuck, fuck, can you hand me a towel?”

Y/N couldn’t help but stare as the words from her parents floated back into her head (Green is the color of life, blue is peace, red is passion and anger...). 

“It’s red.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Your hand. It’s red.” Now that she looked closer, she could see hints of colors that she’d never seen before in him--a soft hue that reminded her of first kisses and the scent of roses in his cheeks and lips, a warm, sunny glow in his hair, and a cool, startling color in his eyes that seemed like the color for getting thrown into a cold lake on a summer afternoon.

He was staring right back at her, his eyes wide and his breathing quick. 

“It’s you, isn’t it,” she breathed. “It’s been you all along. If only you hadn’t worn those blasted black suits all the time instead of your robes..”

The corners of his mouth crinkled into a smile.

“Ms. Y/L/N, step out of the way,” Professor Slughorn interrupted, rolling up his sleeves and getting his wand out. “Draco, boy, this looks deep. Get on up to the infirmary now. Don’t dally.” 

“Meet me,” he whispered as he made to leave. “Tonight. In front of the library. I guess we have some things to discuss.”

“Yes, yes, I guess we do.” Y/N cheeks were hurting from smiling, and as he left the room, the color fading from her vision, she had never been so content to be in pain in her life.

final a/n: hi everyone :) welcome back! can’t wait to write more! sorry if this was a bit of a trainwreck...i haven’t written in a long time and this is the first thing i’ve done since college apps. all feedback is appreciated! thank you! also apologies for any plotholes or spelling errors! i wrote this in a day and i know it’s a little messy oops

[the-final-sif]

Now, for the fake quarantine dating au aka the Fuyumi has gone feral au, we’ve now got 3/4 todoroki siblings hanging around the league of villains. Obviously this can only go well. Incorporating some lovely suggestions I got in here.

Fuyumi is now on quite good terms with most of the league. She’s practically adopted Toga as her new younger sister. Because really, the girl is quite sweet when she’s not stabbing people and she’s still a teenager. Fuyumi is a really good influence on Toga and while there’s obviously a lot of things she can’t help with, she’s able to at least get Toga to be better about consent and stalking.

Twice & Fuyumi become super close, at first just because Twice is keeping an eye on her to make sure she’s not taking information she’s not supposed to, but it quickly becomes a regular friendship. Twice is extremely supportive of Fuyumi and honestly he’s just so happy to be helpful that Fuyumi can’t help but like him.

She’s so used to being in a caretaker/helper role, that Twice being so eager to help her out is unfamiliar to her, but honestly a godsend at the same time. Twice helps her manage the new extra workload of being a villain, and encourages her to keep going when she starts worrying that she’ll never find Touya.

I should mention in here that the league is actually the paranormal liberation front by this point, and Skeptic/Re-Destro/the others are hanging around, and at the very least Skeptic and Re-Destro are aware of who Fuyumi is and why she’s here/that she’s not really a villain, but honestly they’re just so relieved that there’s an Adult that Tomura and the others will listen to and who seems to actually know what’s she’s doing, so they’re keeping their mouths shut.

There’s probably a good month in here where Fuyumi suspects that Geten might be Touya who got quirk swapped by AFO, but eventually that theory gets disproved, putting her back at square one.

Under Fuyumi’s guidance, the league rescues Kurogiri from jail (although none of the core members are aware of his status), so now they have two Real Adults around, which is great.

Tomura is extremely happy to have his foster father back. Kurogiri is so proud of the progress he’s made while he was gone (and he 100% pulls Fuyumi aside privately to thank her for getting Tomura to dress respectably), and the two of them have a genuinely nice reunion.

One problem: Tomura now has now been dating Natsuo for a month, has caught Serious Feelings, but nobody knows about any of this and Tomura doesn’t even know how to go about telling anyone, let alone Kurogiri.

It doesn’t help that 1) since he accidentally told Natsuo his old name, Tenko, he then had to tell Natsuo that he’s still in the closest and ask him not to mention him to anyone by name to stop that from getting out. 2) Natsuo has no idea that he’s a villain, let alone the leader of the league of villains, because for obvious reasons, Tomura doesn’t think that will go over well.

He doesn’t want to lie to his boyfriend, but he doesn’t know how to tell the truth either. There’s so many things he can’t say, and even though he’s mostly just been avoiding answering certain questions, it’s still weighing on him.

All of which comes to a head one evening when the two of them are lying in bed, not doing much besides cuddling, something that is still extremely foreign to Tomura and which makes him a bit nervous, even with special gloves on. Maybe it’s how undemanding Natsuo is for answers, or maybe it’s because getting Kurogiri back has made Tomura more brave, or maybe it’s just that he’s kept secrets for too long, but regardless, Tomura’s the one who breaks the silence.

“I feel like- I- There’s things you should know. About me. That I haven’t told you. That I need to tell you. But-” And he doesn’t even know where he was going with that, because he can’t tell Natsuo, but god he needs to.

“Hey, hey, hey, easy.” Natsuo has a grin on his face, softer than his normal one but every bit as bright. “It’s okay. I mean, if there’s things you want to tell me, than I’m happy to listen, but you don’t owe me answers or anything. I get it. Everyone’s got skeletons in their closet. If you’re not ready to tell me yet, that’s just fine.”

God, he was so nice and Tomura wanted nothing more than to take him up on that, but all the same he knows that Natsuo wouldn’t be saying that if he knew.

“I want you to know, but I also don’t. Because it’ll change things. Don’t try to say it won’t. I know it will. There’s no way it won’t. And you deserve to know about it, but I don’t know how to tell you. I want you to know, but I like things how they are too and I don’t want them to change.”

Natsuo’s quiet for a moment, clearly considering before his fingers come up to gently stroke through Tomura’s hair, and fuck if that doesn’t help him calm down.

“Okay. I get that. It’s still okay if you aren’t ready yet though. If it makes you feel any better, there’s stuff I haven’t told you either, for the same reason. I like what we have now, and I don’t want to lose it. But hey even if knowing more about each other will change things, that doesn’t mean it’ll be worse. Just different. Change can be good too. Who knows.”

Again, it takes a lot for Tomura not to interrupt and say he knows this won’t be a good change. But he manages. He doesn’t manage to find any other words to say though, too busy wondering what secrets someone as kind as Natsuo could possible have. 

“Tell you what, I’ve been meaning to get this off my chest anyways, so how about I go first? Then if you feel like telling me your stuff, you can, or we can just save it for another night. Okay?”

Tomura nods, because that sounds nice, and who knows, maybe he’ll get lucky and Natsuo will reveal that he’s a villain too or something.

“Alright, here goes; the reason I haven’t told you my last name is because it’s Todoroki. And yes, it is the Todoroki you’re thinking of. Endeavor’s my father, and Shouto Todoroki, from the UA sports festival and stuff, that’s my younger brother.”

Oh god fucking damn it.

Suddenly, Tomura’s brain helpfully supplies him with a few facts.

He has, while not directly tried to kill Natsuo’s (and Fuyumi’s???) father, enabled Dabi to attempt something of that scale.

Wait, doesn’t Dabi have a grudge against that guy? It’d always been a bit weird to Tomura, but he hadn’t really questioned it. Not until now. That’s going to be a major problem.

“I didn’t tell you for a few reasons. One, I didn’t want you to like me or not like me because of him. Two, I noticed you were kinda jumpy about hero stuff and I didn’t want to scare you off, and three, my relationship with him is kinda... complicated. Definitely not great. It’s got to do with a lot of things, but Touya’s a pretty big part of it all.”

It takes everything in Tomura’s body to hold back his instinctive responses of ‘Do you want me to kill him for you?’, because at this point he doesn’t want to make that offer unless he means it, and he might mean it soon. Depending on a few things. He let’s his gut guide his tongue instead.

“You’re brother’s pretty important to you, huh?”

Natsuo laughs, and it’s something soft and bittersweet, but fond. Still so very fond.

“Yeah, I mean, both of them are. But Touya was my older brother. He was always looking out for me. He was a pretty sickly kid, but he had a fire in him like nobody I’ve ever met. Literally and metaphorically. I still remember how some older kids tried to pick on me after school- it must’ve been ten years ago now- he was so tiny back them, but that didn’t stop him. They weren’t taking him seriously, one of them asked him what he planned to do against them when he wasn’t even up to their shoulders.”

This time Natsuo’s smile is more fond, lost in memories. Something about this is causing ideas to connect in Tomura’s brain, and he knows it’s heading towards something, but he’s scared to get there. Why though?

“Touya looked the guy right in the eye said ‘This’, and without blinking or even changing his expression, just with a little flick of his hand, he sent a wave of flames across the ground. Before they could do anything, he melted their shoes in place so they couldn’t do anything. Then, while they were panicking about it, he got his big creepy grin on his face. The kid who’d been leading them looked up and I think he almost fainted out of fear when he realized that he couldn’t fight back or get away. He apologized real after after that, promised they’d never do it again, and Touya said they better not, or next time it wouldn’t be their shoes that he melted. Then he turned on his heel, grabbed my hand and walked me all the way back home. I never got picked on again after that. But that was Touya for you, nothing ever scared him.”

Vividly, a memory flashes in front of Tomura’s eyes of some low level grunt getting in Dabi’s face. The guy had been getting a bit too friendly with Toga while she was still recovering from her eye injury. She was on pain meds at the time, and honestly Tomura had been about to decay the guy where he stood when Dabi stepped in and told him to back off. Apparently the guy thought he was hot shit because he asked why he should.

The very next second, blue flames had erupted and the guy was stuck in place, bound by his own shoes and helpless to do anything but simper out apologizes as those flames hovered around him, the smell of burning flesh hitting the air. Tomura hadn’t heard what Dabi had said, but he’d heard the rumors afterwards. ‘Next time, my flames will be burning a whole lot more than just your feet. Got it?’.

He hadn’t actually burned the guy’s feet off all the way, but it was enough to leave scars as a reminder.

Tomura had wondered many a time what Dabi was like when he was younger. Before he was Dabi.

It was almost funny, to find out that he’d always been like this. At least on some level.

Years of training was the only reason Tomura managed to keep a straight face and his voice somewhat even.

“Sounds like he was a pretty good brother.”

“Yeah. He really was. I miss him so much. All of us do. I know Fuyumi told you guys that she’s thinks he’s still out there, I don’t know if I believe that or not, but I don’t really have the heart to tell her to let it go. I probably should. It’s been years. I just... I just really like to think he’s still out there somewhere. I’d give almost anything to get him back, if I could, so I can hardly blame her for looking for him.”

Silence for a moment.

“Sorry, that’s kinda a lot to dump on you- I don’t really talk about him a lot these days.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I- I get it. My family- some of them anyways- it’s not the exact same, but it’s similar. I miss them a lot too. And-”

Tomura wanted to tell him the truth, but fuck, he couldn’t. As much as he wanted to tell his boyfriend that his brother was alive, had been this entire time, even now looked out for them because now that he was thinking about it, fuck, no wonder Dabi had been avoiding Fuyumi even while he vouched for her. But-

But it wasn’t his place to. That wasn’t his secret to share.

“-who knows, I can’t say I’m one to believe in miracles, but they do happen sometimes.”

Fuck that sounded sappy. It made Natsuo grin though, bright and wide, and so it was worth it. Worth the guilt that settled in Tomura’s chest, for all the things he couldn’t say yet.

Biting his bottom lip, Tomura decided to switch topics, meandering back to far lighter discussions of new games coming out soon. He’d wanted to tell Natsuo everything- but not tonight.

There was someone else he had to talk to first.

[asokatanos]

I got the first dose of the covid vaccine yesterday (Jan 5th 2021)!! Sharing 2 days of my experiences so that when access has been expanded and doses are available more widely you’ll have my story regarding safety and side effects.

Some facts: I got it early because I’m a medical student seeing patients (lately a lot of covid pts!). I am otherwise mostly healthy without any serious chronic or autoimmune conditions. The reason healthcare workers are being prioritized is not because we’re going to get more sick, but because if we DO catch it, we might accidentally spread it to patients who might themselves become very ill. Our jobs mean we are exposed to and exposing many many people every day. No WFH here!

Once you register you get a little card with the vaccine company (in the US rn moderna or pfizer only) and today’s date and a date 28 days later which is the date of your next and (hopefully) final dose/appointment.

I got the first dose of the Moderna vaccine after answering some screening questions about history of severe allergic reactions, recent covid (+) test or quarantine, a temperature check, etc. The shot itself was delivered with a small gauge syringe 💉. It actually hurt WAY LESS than the flu shot I got several months ago!! I’m a big baby when it comes to needles (ironic! I know) but this was NOT BAD AT ALL. Genuinely barely felt it. 1/10 pain scale. The 1 is just because I knew the needle was going in

They had me sit for 15 min afterwards to make sure I didn’t pass out or suddenly get an allergic reaction. I was just fine! Left the hospital and got totally lost on my way home thanks to my goddamn gps which for some reason took me ACROSS STATE LINES I am going to kill google-

Two hours later my arm felt mostly normal. No pain! 0/10 pain scale. The area felt like it might be a little warm and maybe ever so slightly numb, but this might just be because I was mentally focusing on it very intently since receiving the shot.

Pain began maybe four hours after the shot. Gradual soreness that went from a 4/10 to maybe a 6/10 by bedtime (11 hours later). It’s not sharp or stinging, it feels like the same dull sore sensation one gets after a flu shot. Maybe slightly worse, like something between a flu and tetanus shot. I will survive it even though my mom accidentally bumped the spot no less than three times

Around 11pm or so I started getting a headache. This might have been secondary to personal stress or maybe the several hours I spent watching tv or the fact that I’ve been prone to bad headaches for several years now. But it’s also a known vaccine side effect. I took two ibuprofens at around 10:45pm because of the arm soreness

Okay so I didn’t sleep much over night. Part of it is stress but also my arm hurt. I’m used to sleeping on my left side buuut the shot was in my left arm :/

And in the morning about 22 hours after I got the vaccine the arm soreness is worse, maybe 7-8/10. I took another two ibuprofen so we’ll see how it goes. No other side effects though just the sore arm.

okay so it’s now about 6pm and fascists are taking over my country’s capitol building so i haven’t been focusing on my arm so much. the good news is that it hurts less now! still hurts to move it in abduction (which is medical for out away from the body like an airplane pose) but it’s way less severe. a steady 4-5/10

Everything is unhinged now so I’m just scheduling this post for Jan 7th and hoping there are no further historical events in the next 24 hours.

Jan 7th update is that it doesn’t hurt anymore!!

[prettyflyshyguy]

Oops I wrote more C virus stuff

I got super energised and spent all night drafting up a one-shot about what happens when Ashley reunites with Leon post RE6 in the C-Virus AU cannon. It’s unfinished and is very much a draft, but I’m excited so I wanted to post what I have so far. I intend on compiling a bunch of these together and putting them up as chapters on AO3 and Fanfic.net once they’re edited, featuring various different characters.

You came this far just to become a Monster - The Aftermath

A brief summary: Ashley visits Leon while he’s stuck in quarantine. It gets a bit emotional. 

I’m assuming the President in RE6 was the same in RE4 despite the uh long time difference between the two games. It’s 9 years and I’m Australian so I know nothing about American politics but I think a president can only serve 8 years in one stint so uh maybe he’d just been elected in 4 and was just running out of time before he died in 6? I’m rolling with that for the sake of my head-cannon/AU storylines. It makes sense given Leon was described as being good friends with him, and we can assume the friendship started once he got Ashley back home safely after the events of 4. 

Given Ashley was 19/20 during RE4 she should be 28/29 post RE6 depending on her birthday. 

-

The conversation with Hunnigan echoed in her mind as she walked down the labs corridor. 

“While pursuing Chief Security Advisor Simmons, Leon became infected with the C Virus. He’s OK, don’t worry. It’s just we’re still running tests to make sure he’ll stay ok.

I know the report I gave you didn’t have much to go on in it, I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to provide you with much more information. You’ll just have to wait until you can see him for yourself.

He’s happy to talk with you, you can go down to the labs today if you’d like.”

“He’s happy to talk? You mean I can’t see him?”

The warm smile was betrayed by the sorrow in Hunnigan’s eyes. 

“He’s still adjusting to everything. He’s spoken to a couple of our doctors and he’s dealing with a lot of internal negative emotions right now, about what people think of him. I don’t think the tests are helping.”

Hunnigan reached out and gently held Ashley’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you visit. It’s what he really needs right now. Trust me.”

-

Standing outside the viewing room door, holding her keycard at the ready, she steeled herself. The way the security staff described the setup, Leon had access to a shutter system on the viewing window, giving him control over how and when visitors can see him. It allowed him much needed privacy given his life since coming home was endless tests and scans and scientists. 

Tapping her card against the reader, the light flicked green and she heard the lock release. Pressing down on the cold handle, she slipped inside. There was a small coffee table near the viewing window, the shutter was down. A few chairs were on the far wall, she pulled one up to the window and sat down. On the table there was a remote control, it looked custom made for the setup. It only had a handful of buttons, the most important of which was a ‘call’ button that she was told would alert Leon that someone was in the room, and a ‘mic on’ button. The room had an inbuilt microphone and speaker system to allow comfortable communication even if large groups were there. 

It felt uncomfortably sterile. Worse than a hospital. She looked up to the top left corner of the room, where a security camera stared back. She was also told Leon had access to the feed. She wondered if he was watching now? Hunnigan said she’d call ahead. Was he waiting for her to do something first? Would he be upset that she was so hesitant? 

Shaking off the feeling she hit both buttons on the controller and flashed a smile and a wave towards the security camera, for good measure.

A moment passed before she heard a light clicking sound on the intercom, before a voice emerged.

“Ashley, hey…”

She was surprised that he sounded so… Normal. She wasn't sure what she expected, no one had given her any information other than that he’d been infected but he hadn’t lost his mind. There was an extensive report written about the events that went down, she’d been able to convince the BSAA to let her read a copy of it but it was heavily redacted. Particularly the parts pertaining to Leon. 

“It’s… good to see you.”

She was relieved to hear the sincerity in his voice, despite how slightly rough around the edges he sounded. He was Leon, that hadn’t changed. But she could tell he was different all the same.

“It’s good to, uh, hear you, haha..”

Her feet shuffled, she started bouncing one leg. Looking longfully at the window glass with the shutter still closed. She was fine with phone calls but this was making her nervous. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d last spoke, that they’d last caught up in person. 

“I’m sorry, about your dad. I’m sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. I’m sorry for everything, Ashley.”

“It’s ok, Leon. You did everything you could.”

Despite the lack of contact, the uncomfortable fog in the room was palpable for both parties. Her leg bouncing rate increased. Shuffling could be heard over the intercom speaker. They each heard the pain in the other’s voice. The wound was still fresh and very deep. 

Not wanting to have that conversation to a wall, Ashley attempted to change the subject.

“So how are you holding up? I mean with the tests and everything. Hunnigan said you shouldn't have to be in isolation much longer.”

“Uhh yeah… It’s fine. I’m doing fine.”

She let out a small sigh.

“You can’t bullshit me, Leon.”

Silence. 

“You’ve been stuck inside that room for almost three months now. You must be tired of it, and lonely.”

She paused, before continuing.

“When I got back from Europe after you rescued me, they kept me in isolation for precautionary testing for two weeks. They were paranoid I guess. I know for you they didn’t need long to clear you of any issues. Those two weeks were the worst of my life.”

“Worse than being injected with a mind-controlling parasite?” he joked back. 

“Much, much worse.” she playfully replied, “I didn’t have a strong, capable, and handsome government agent to save me from a bunch of creepy scientists in hazmat suits.”

She heard what sounded like a muffled laugh. A smile crossed her face. 

“Unfortunately for me the only ‘strong, capable, and handsome’ government agent I know is limited to Visitors on Wednesdays only.”

This made Ashley giggle suddenly, the first time she’d properly and genuinely laughed since before the C-Virus incident even occurred. 

“When I came home, Dad was so worried. He just wanted to make sure I was gonna be ok. He was always so busy and worked so hard. He just wanted to make sure he could change something for the positive. In the end you made sure that happened. You and Helena.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and gently dropped off her chin. Followed by another.

“I’d known Simmons for just about my whole life, he’d had family dinners with us, we’d visit his house frequently. Dad had confided in him about so much I just… I can’t believe he’d betray us like that. I can’t believe he would be so selfish.”

The tears were making it hard for her to see, her words were mixed in with sharp breaths as she began to sob.

“He killed dad and all those people, after everything, he just fucking killed him and killed everyone else and burned it to the ground all for what!! And now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do, Leon I just don’t know what to fucking do!”

She cried for a moment, letting the anger and the grief flow. Purging her system, letting it out. As she started to calm down she pulled a packet of tissues from her bag, to clean her face.

“I want to make a difference. I want to do something, like dad did.” she said slowly through strained breaths.

“I never want to feel helpless and small ever again. After you rescued me in Europe, after everything you did to stop Simmons, I want to do something for the world too.” 

She glanced up at the security camera, as if it would respond back somehow. Hoping he was watching.

“You and dad made me realise what I wanted to do with my life, what I cared most about. I even changed my college degree to International Relations when I got home but I mean, you already know that. Now with the BSAA here, I’ve asked Hunnigan if she can help me shift my career slightly, and work with you and everyone else here.”

“Really? You want to work for the BSAA?”

She nodded, not knowing if he could even see. Taking the moment to have a drink from her water bottle to gather herself.

“... I’ll put in a personal recommendation, if they’re still accepting those from me after everything.”

“Thank you Leon, I’m sure they will.” Ashley smiled.

“Well if they let me do anything, once the tests are cleared, I’d like to go visit your old man with you. If you don’t mind. I couldn’t be there for the funeral so… “

“Of course Leon,” she wiped a tear from her eye, “I’d love that. I’m sure dad would too.”

“I think you’d be great here, we need more people like you Ashley.”

“Of course, someone needs to be around to stop you getting into more trouble right?”

She was hoping for a smart ass response, a laugh, a quip, something. Her comment was met with silence. Her heart sank.

“What happened to you, Leon?”

He avoided responding, she could hear more slight shuffling noises.

“I know you feel uncomfortable, god knows I would too. Everyone’s talking about you, saying you’re a hero. You and all the others that worked together to stop the C-Virus from spreading. You saved people's lives.”

“... I don’t think you’d be calling me that if you could see me right now.”

The most she’d gotten to read about the effects of the virus on him were small comments about carapace and ‘external structural changes’. In all honestly she had no idea what he looked like, if he was even recognisable. She didn’t really know how to ask, besides the fact she really only knew Hunnigan well enough to be confident posing the question.

“I wouldn’t know. No one’s shown me any photos of you. I have no idea.”

He was silent again.

“But you’re still you, in the end. Does it matter what you look like?”

“It does when you look like a monster.”

She recoiled slightly at the tone of his voice.

“When I was in China, when it happened. It didn’t really matter to me. People's lives were at stake, Simmons was out there, I embraced it in the moment because I couldn't let people down. I needed to do something. I couldn't just give up and avoid facing the world. But now? I’m stuck in this cell and every few days I get more needles poked into me and more scans and more people asking me stupid fucking questions and I just.”

He paused suddenly. Breathing for a few moments.

“I can’t deal with all of this. I’m as good as a lab animal now. And why would anyone think any differently if they saw what I’ve become.”

“C’mon, don’t say that.”

Suddenly the shutter began to move upwards, a brighter light from the room beyond the glass spilling in. It took Ashley a moment to adjust before she could fully stare at the figure sitting opposite her.

“If you were in trouble and the thing that came to help you looked like this, would you still call it a hero?” 

[hackedmotionsensors]

i spent a lot of last year being really upset about it. I mean the pandemic really exacerbated everything. And made an unmedicated adhd kid like me feel things a million times worse. Especially on top of studio and comic book work the thing i loved to take joy in was bleeding the joy away esp bc like....what happened to this person? What happened to that person? Why doesn’t this person talk to me anymore? Is my art just really bad and they lost interest? Did they move on? Lol Was I too much of a bitch?(highly likely I tend to pop off)

All of that was kind of a lot and its why I hid a lot of my stevetony art bc I wanted to like...really move on. but I’m someone who never TRULY moves on? Bc like...if you put an X-men movie in front of me I will go BANANAS over cherik. I will still get all sad over The Hobbit (but both of those are bc I’ve been a fan of both since I was a kid....not necessarily the ships but the series as a whole).

And like I still talk to people who’ve moved on here and there and like ...its kind of like “Okay i know where so and so is. They’re  clearly not vibing this old fandom anymore but they’ve got things they’re doing but if I make a joke with them its like....oh hello I’m still here”.

I think on top of fandom stuff its also that...I feel genuinely alone more than I ever have bc of quarantine??? I can’t see my parents. My mom acted really STUPID over the holidays and i haven’t had a chance to check in. She wouldn’t tell me if she got sick anyway. I don’t have the buffer of seeing my IRL friends or even a pet to talk to. I talk to my landlady lmfao And she’s an 80 year old seven day adventist so its not.....super EASY unless we talk about plants lmfao

I can’t even talk to my dork ass coworkers IRL and my exercise routine completely dropped off the face of the planet. Please come back from the war willingness to go outside!! But we can’t really do that either bc LA is the epicenter for the worst of the covid outbreaks.

So it htis a little harder maybe? When you’re like “hey i used to see this person all the time in the notes or comments or we would chat on twitter but now I get nothing” and its like...hmm. Oh. And depending on the mood I either got super fucking sad about it or I got furious lol Or some hot take would piss me off and Id be like well fuck this person. This isn’t normal lol this is what happens to weirdos who only spend all their time on the internet but that’s literally what we’re all doing lately.

Sorry this meant to be about idk fandom??? And just basically dwindled down to I’m lonely and should probably get a cat

[kyber-crystal]

i don’t wanna get all sappy on main again, but too bad LOL.

these past six months have been a real struggle and i have to be honest, i didn’t expect to feel worse when i was away from school for prolonged periods, but here we are now. since the beginning of quarantine my anxiety and depression has heightened, and it gets so bad to the point that sometimes, i don’t even want to get out of bed in the morning. there are so many days in which i get up and look at myself and think, “what even is the point of all this? what am i doing?” (and no, that’s not my insomnia talking. we’ll save that topic for next time.)

when i get stressed out i’m usually hit pretty hard. my family can’t go longer than a day without pointing out how tired i look (e.g. “you have dark circles” or “you need to sleep more”) but sometimes, i’m restless. so falling asleep quickly and sleeping well isn’t always the option. 

god, i was seemingly clear of my anxiety and depression for several years but then i’m hit like a truck out of literally nowhere. the intrusive thoughts keep coming and coming and it feels like i have absolutely no control over what happens to my mind. it sucks. 

but 30 days ago, while i was sleep-deprived and scrolling through tumblr, i happened to stumble upon who i would soon grow to consider my best friend in the whole world, and my soulmate. 

i’d like to pour one out to @poesflygirl because i shit you not, i have no fucking clue where i’d be now if i never knew you. it’s hard to even think back and wonder, “what if i never found your blog? what if we never started talking?” because you’ve become such a big part of my life and i don’t think i could ever let that go. 

i don’t know who the fuck thought it was a good idea to place us 2,000 miles apart. like ????? 

anyway thank you so much for everything you’ve done. thank you for always having my back and being so willing to help me with anything i needed, whether that was looking over my dumpster fire of a WIP or just giving me advice. whether you knew it or not, you helped me through a rough patch and basically saved me from a really dark time in my life. and i will never stop being grateful for that. i owe you. you’re literally a godsent gift from the heavens

@rentskenobi we haven’t known each other for very long but i’m so so so glad to have met you. liv, you’re literally one of the sweest people i’ve ever met and our conversations always make me smile. i really hope we can get closer in the future sksks

@anakinswhore julia i absolutely love your chaotic energy sksksks. i’m glad i found someone to simp over star wars men with. i also hope we can get closer because you truly seem like such a genuinely kindhearted and wonderful person.

and to all the other amazing mutuals who i love and admire with my whole heart, @obirain @speechlessxx @lilbabycee @propertyofdindjarin @imtheoutgoingsidekick-baby @pies-writes-and-more you saved me as well. you saved me from my mental health getting any worse than it is now. whether it was by your sweet & encouraging words or beautifully written fics. and there's more of you that did the same, but i cant even begin to list you all bc there’s too many sjksks

to all 790 something of you, thank you endlessly. this blog has become a safe space and i couldn’t have asked for a better and more supportive community.

[hopelikethemoon]

Unspoken Words (Ezra x Reader)

title: Unspoken Words rating: PG-13 length: 2000 words content: angst, fluff, miscommunication  summary: reader ends up stuck with Ezra on an expedition.  for: @just-add-butter​

Before the galaxy fell apart around you, you had been an esteemed archivist at the university on the Zulpho space station. Word of your specific skill set eventually reached the ears of a wealthy prospector who frequently hired teams of harvesters to venture onto uncharted planets and moons, hoping to strike rich. He approached you about a team he had engaged to ship out to a relatively unknown system to collect information about the alleged Rhivorium Crystals that could be harvested from the mineral lakes on one of the terrestrial moons. You had researched the system at length during your tenure at the university — if anyone knew about Rhivorium Crystals, it was you.

And Ezra. 

A man whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to drive you crazy. 

He knew everything, despite having no formal education to claim. While he didn’t directly question your authority on Rhivorium Crystals, he went on, at length, about his own knowledge on the topic whenever the subject was broached.

Clearly, the man loved to hear himself talk. You had never encountered someone quite like him and you had worked with some infuriating blowhards on Zulpho. 

Despite thorough preparation, none of you had anticipated arriving on the moon in time for a poisonous atmospheric event. Due to a filtration failure on the main freighter, the team split into pairs to make use of the jump pods attached to the vessel which were better suited for inhospitable climates. 

The leader of the expedition, a rather soft-spoken man named Rue, chose the pairs at random in a clear attempt to make the unexpected quarantining as unbearable as possible. At least in your opinion. 

Ezra was a large personality to share three hundred square feet with. 

“I’m quite keen to know what your thoughts are on the truly tragic loss of the Library of Alexandria. I am quite the avid reader, whenever I can avail myself of the time to get swept up in a work of fiction — I do.” He drawled out as he worked to dismantle his blaster. “It’s a damned shame I didn’t think to better prepare for an occasion such as this.” 

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I don’t have any opinions on the Library of Alexandria. It was a tragic loss, I’ll agree with that.” 

“Ah,” He nodded his head. “The funny thing is that having no opinion is, in fact, having an opinion.” Ezra used his teeth to facilitate removing an element of his blaster and despite yourself, you caught yourself watching the way his lips wrapped around the piece. You had been skeptical of his abilities when you realized he was missing his right hand. Harvesters required their full facilities, especially when dealing with extracting valuable minerals. But he’d adapted well to his situation. 

“Did you hear me?”

You blinked at him. “How could I not? You never stop talking.” You regretted the tone you had taken the second his expression fell. You hadn’t meant to sound so angry — you were overcompensating for the flush of embarrassment you had felt from catching yourself watching his mouth. For the fleeting thoughts of what his lips might feel like against your own. 

Ezra’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip, before he gave a stiff nod. “I see.” He lowered his gaze and focused his attention on cleaning the newly dismantled blaster. Silently. 

The silence was worse than his near-constant talking. In the silence you could hear the violent rains that poured down around the pod. You could hear the whine of the engine, the perpetual hum of the generator keeping the filtration system operational. 

You stared at him for a long time; watching the way he handled the blaster, how delicate his fingers were as he worked oil into the barrel. You watched until your heart ached because you knew you had ruined whatever delicate friendship you might have had with him. 

——

You tried to apologize twice, but both times Ezra was quick to shut you down. Your conversations were limited to idle commentary on the atmospheric levels outside the pod and how the generator was functioning. Mostly it was just you talking to fill the silence and Ezra offering clipped responses before he found something to busy himself with. 

You worked on compiling your notes about what you had learned about the planet through your readings of the atmosphere. You annotated your experiences trapped in quarantine with Ezra, making notes in the margins about how much you regretted losing your temper with him. 

Despite your initial opinions about the weathered harvester, you actually did like him. Of all the members of the expedition, he was the only one who could hold a meaningful conversation. Sure, he talked excessively, but at least he was intelligent. The notes were meaningless to the expedition, but you had to get them out of your mind. 

Ezra barely even looked at you and you hated that you actually missed the way his warm dark eyes would light up as he discussed something he was passionate about. You missed him, even though he was sitting only a few feet away from you. 

——

On the second week of the quarantine, a generator malfunction spurred on the longest conversation you had had with him since your falling out. Ezra had tinkered with the generator while you slept, adjusting the baseline levels to match the ever-fluctuating atmosphere beyond the pod. Somehow he’d miscalculated the formula sending the system into a downward spiral.

“Wake up, little bird.” He urged, giving your shoulder a shake. “I need you to wake up. I’ve made a grievous error.” 

The crisis was easily averted once you set to work on it. “You woke me up just in time.” You assured him as you sank back onto your bed, tucking your legs beneath you. 

“I do apologize.” Ezra remarked, catching your eyes as he made himself comfortable on his own bed. 

“No.” You shook your head. “If either of us should be apologizing, it’s me.” 

Ezra sighed heavily as he laid down. “I suppose you ought to be.” 

“I—”

“Good night.” He whispered as he turned his back to you. 

——

You were always careful about keeping your notes tucked under your pillow when you weren’t actively working on them. It wasn’t that there was anything dreadfully private in them, but you would rather Ezra not read what you had written about him. Once the quarantine was finished, you planned to duplicate the expedition notes into an official file and put away your personal commentary. 

Midway through the third week of the quarantine, you panicked when you couldn’t find your notes anywhere. They weren’t under your pillow, under your mattress, or sat on the crate you used as a makeshift writing desk.

You froze when you saw them clenched in Ezra’s grasp. “Looking for these?” 

“Yes.” You swallowed thickly and stood a little taller, as if you could possibly stand eye-to-eye with him. “Why do you have them?”

“You left them out.” He shrugged, holding them out to you. 

“Did you…” 

“Yes.”

You snatched them back from him. “Oh.” 

Ezra sighed heavily, rubbing at the back of his neck as he kept his gaze fixed on your face. “Little bird, you needn’t continue to apologize. I accepted your first apology at face value.” He revealed, scratching at his chin (which had grown significant scruff since quarantining). “But I thought, since you were frustrated by my loquacious nature that I would limit myself for the duration of this unpleasant situation.”

Your lips parted, words poised to escape you, but you struggled to make your voice work. Your cheeks burned hot as you realized everything he had read in your notes. 

“In all my years of life, I don’t believe I have ever had the pleasure of someone describing me with such ebullience. I can’t imagine what I might have done to be worthy of your kind and considerate words, despite them not being intended for my eyes.” Ezra took a cautious step towards you and you didn’t retreat. “When I learned that you would be joining this wayward expedition, I admit that I was thrilled at the prospect of befriending you. You have been afforded experiences that I have only dreamed to be part of.”

“Ezra—”

“Let me,” He held up his hand to stop you. “Had I been born into a finer stock, I might’ve been a learned mind like you.” 

You took a step towards him, ignoring his protests. “You’re the smartest man I know.” You hated that your outburst at the onset of this whole situation had caused him to think less of himself. Hadn’t he read your notes? At length you had praised his knowledge. He could talk circles around the most learned men you worked alongside at the university. 

“I know.” He nodded towards the notes still grasped in your hand. “Am I wrong to think that your commentary alludes to another layer of intrigue between us, little bird?”

You glanced downwards and mumbled, “You can’t blame me for longing for a little human contact.” 

“I should hope that it’s a great deal more than just that.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Once this quarantine has run its course, you and I will still have to see this expedition through.”

“And after?” 

He smirked. “It would be most fortuitous that we should have an after.” 

“I know you’ve read my notes.” You started, fingers trembling as you sat the notebook aside on a crate. “But I want to say it too.” You drew in a shaky breath as you met his eyes. That affectionate warmth you had longed for had returned. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just… scared.” You gestured around the pod. “I am at ease with the thought that we might be trapped in this pod until the generator runs out, but I was terrified at the prospect that I might genuinely care for you.” 

He arched a brow and chuckled, “Little bird, caring for me is an imprudent endeavor, but I am deeply grateful that you should open your heart to someone like me.”

“Ezra,” You whispered as you stepped close to him. You rested one hand at his shoulder as your other moved to cup his cheek, your thumb stroking over the bristly scruff you found there. “I’m not very good with my words.” You admitted. “That’s your expertise.” Where he excelled at verbalizing his thoughts, you favored putting pen to paper. “But I want to explore whatever this is between us.” 

“As do I, birdie.” Ezra murmured as he looped his arm around your back and stroked the small of your back. He drew you closer, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. 

You rose up on your toes to meet his lips, your hand sliding from his cheek to cradle the back of his neck. Finally, you were free to rake your fingers through his hair, finding out for yourself just how soft it was as it slipped through your fingers. 

——

A month had passed since the start of the quarantine and the daily readings seemed to indicate that the atmosphere was being to normalize — harkening its end. You and Ezra no longer slept on opposite sides of the small space. Shortly after you mended bruised feelings, your beds had been pushed together to make the most of them. Not that you ever slept very far from Ezra’s side. 

You fit perfectly into his side and the steady beating of his heart beneath your ear eased you to sleep night after night. And each night he would entertain you with stories of his past until your quiet snores drowned him out. 

Perhaps you weren’t perfectly suited for one another, but throughout your life you had learned that nothing was perfect. The most important parts of your broken pieces fit together. With each other, you finally felt whole. 

[youcantkillamutant]

Earn It

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary:  Some things have to be earned

Warnings: Cursing (Is ‘hell’ a bad word anymore?)

Words: 1.6K

A/N: Joining in on the Quarantine Writing challenge hosted by the lovely @shaekingshitup & @chaneajoyyy. Thank y’all for getting me writing in this time of corn teen lol. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening To: Earned It Instrumental By The Weeknd, Earned It by Jasmine Thompson, When I Get My Hands On You by The New Basement Tapes

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Tea, check. KimoyoPad, check. Earbuds, check. Blue-light glasses, check. Kay had everything she needed. The sun was streaming through her office pod in the palace, window open to let in the breeze, but something was missing. Ideas. She needed ideas. After working on this project for a week straight, Kay discovered that she had no more inventive energy. All of her creations had been wrung out of her within the week, and now she sat at her desk, pouring over everything she had imagined, and it just wasn’t working.

She’d bought a few more hours to pull something together to present to Shuri and the board, but the clock was ticking and she wasn’t getting anywhere. Kay pushed away her KPad. Seeking out distraction would only make her feel worse, only remind her of the work she wasn’t doing.

To be fair, Kay had been particularly hard on herself during the work on this project and she knew it. Shuri and the other girls in the lab had noticed it. Feared it is probably more accurate. when Kay asked Shuri for a few more hours on the presentation, she was met with wide eyes and furious nods. And Kay couldn’t figure out why exactly she was wound so tight about this, but it felt important.

It was her first presentation in Wakanda that she’d make without training wheels. No project lead to report to, just her. When Shuri and the Board had approved her initial proposal, she’d been elated. Called everyone back home in the States to report that after 8 whole months working in Wakanda she’d finally scored her own project. It was exciting, even when the work set in she was excited, but now, a month later and three-quarters a preliminary presentation complete, Kay had to wonder why she’d wanted to do this in the first place.

It wasn’t like she had a ton of work to finish for the presentation anyways. But the part she had to finish just wouldn’t come. She’d been brainstorming for the last week on this portion of the project and she could barely string two sentences together for the presentation because there was nothing. Just as Kay was about to go give herself a bathroom break in which she would stare at herself in the mirror for ten to fifteen minutes, the door to her office pod slid open. Crap.

“Shuri, I thought we agreed that you’d give me at least three hours to go over these—”, Kay stopped short when her earbuds were out. A warm breath brushed over Kay’s shoulder, she knew it wasn’t Shuri. Great.

“N’Jadaka. I thought you were on a diplomatic mission with the Jabari.” Clove and honey floated to her senses, mingling with sand and oak; N’Jadaka’s scent wafting through the air.

“Keeping tabs on me Kay? I’m touched.” He huffed another breath over Kayana’s cheek, so close he could kiss it. Kay didn’t bother answering. Blowing out a breath instead, so get N’Jadaka’s smell out of her mouth.

Ever since she’d come to Wakanda N’Jadaka had been…overly familiar. Maybe it’s because they were the only Americans in Wakanda, but Kay didn’t spend five years doubling majoring in architecture and agriculture to be distracted by a lost prince. especially not on her first big presentation.

“Don’t flatter yourself N’Jadaka. I read the daily news blasts.” Kay waved her right wrist, heavy and strong with the kimoyo beads she’d received her first week working with Shuri.

“Everything is easier with these, I promise! It’s synced with your Pad so you’ll never have to worry about lost files. You’ll be able to chat with me, send video messages about the site visits and…”

“She reads! I knew you were smart. Could tell by the way you—” Kay shot him a sharp look then, one brow raised, daring him to go on.

Around Kayana, N’Jadaka Udaku had a knack for saying the wrong thing. Well in her opinion. All the girls she worked with in the lab and in the field utterly adored the man, but to Kay he was a pompous, arrogant, admittedly smart but incredibly irritating Golden State Warriors fan. Another glance at Kay told Erik to move onto another subject.

“I thought I told you to call me Erik?”

“I thought I told you to call me Ms. Benton.” Another gust of air, this one followed by a kiss of his teeth. Kay could just barely see it in her periphery. Pink tongue caressing his pearly whites before being swallowed by gleaming gold canines.

“Fine Ms. Benton. What are you working on then, Girl Wonder?”

“That’s your cousin’s name.” Erik rounded the table and pulled a chair out smoothly, settling into it and gazing at her expectantly. “I’m working on the proofs for a few smaller eco-house concepts. We’ve got the ecology of it down, solar panels, self venting spaces, and recycled fibers are easy enough to incorporate, but it’s just the…size.”

“What about it?” Kay ignored the way her stomach flipped when N’Jadaka’s face scrunched together in confusion. She’d been doing that for weeks.

“Do you know how difficult it is to turn a 20 meter space into a fully functioning apartment? I mean, sleeping quarters, laundry, kitchen, and living area. Not to mention it should all be ‘mod-chic’ or whatever brief T’Challa gave to the Board. Shuri was supposed to send someone from product development to help me but—” Kay caught sight of Erik’s grin. Her stomach flipped again and she backpedalled. “But I’m sure I can handle this. I probably don’t need help anyways.”

“Now come on Ms. Benton, you were practically begging for help.”

“I can’t imagine why Shuri would send you.” Any time the two had to work in the same vicinity, Erik spent most of his time trying to distract her and no time on whatever it was he was meant to be doing. After her first week, she’d actually never seen Erik in the lab again. According to Shuri, he wasn’t allowed in anymore.

“I’m the last one to say men and women should be separated, but my cousin…well he’s not helped his case much. Besides, T’Challa’s been gunning for his own lab near the top of the palace, this’ll make things easier for everyone. For now at least.”

N’Jadaka had found his way to Kay outside of the lab; sliding into the seat across from her at lunches, and always suspiciously on her off-site trips, trying to play tour guide. Initially she felt annoyed, she didn’t need a tour guide to do her job. Now-a-days, she was feeling a little different anytime N’Jadaka found her. He was getting to her, as much as she hates to admit it.

“Because I’m probably the only person who’s lived in a 20 meter apartment in this country. Seriously, I know how to live small Kay.” Kayana shot him a glare for the nickname and tried to ignore how genuine he sounded. Erik smirked at the way her lip curled in annoyance. He’d always found that cute.

Kay wasn’t stupid, she’d heard the stories about King N’Jadaka. Ruthless, power-hungry, practically foaming at the mouth for control. It was why she’d avoided him in the first place. But this N’Jadaka was nothing like the stories. He was kind of nice. Still cocky and arrogant, but surprisingly sincere. At least he was with her.

“The key to this is to break up the space. That and you’ve got to use any and every piece of furniture as storage. Hell, use the space under the steps as storage. If something in the space doesn’t have at least two functions, it doesn’t belong.”

For the first time since she’d started working in Wakanda, Erik had brought something useful to the conversation. Not that he wasn’t smart, the guy was brilliant and everyone knew it, especially him. It just seemed that every time he came around Kay, all he could spew were cocky remarks and nicknames he hadn’t earned.

“Are you telling me you’ve found more than one use for a pillow?”

“Ms. Benton, there are plenty of uses for a pillow.” Erik waggled his eyebrows and Kay rolled her eyes, but something in his expression felt wicked and her face heated. “But in all seriousness, yeah. If you get a large enough pillow, they can be used as couch cushions. Hell you could turn the whole bed into a couch and transform the sleeping space into the living space.”

“Do you think we could turn them into curtains instead?”  

It went on like that for two hours, Kay and Erik brainstorming. Mostly Kay was questioning how something could serve more than one function and Erik answered back with three different ways to transform the singly-functional to multi-functional.

“I’m impressed.” Kay was loathe to admit it, especially with the way Erik’s full lips pulled up into a smirk. By now they were both standing, they’d both paced the circumference of the office pod ten times. N’Jadaka approached Kay arms wide in victory.

“And the Girl Wonder begrudgingly admits I know what I’m talking about. You flatter me Kay.”

“Ms. Benton. And I never said you didn’t know that you were talking about.” At least not out loud.

“Seriously? After all that help I still can’t call you Kay?” This time N’Jadaka was a few steps away. “What is it with you and nicknames?” His gaze was calculating and Kay met him head-on.

“Names have power, you of all people should know that N’Jadaka.”

“Bullshit.” N’Jadaka took a step closer. “I’ve heard the girls call you Kay.” Another step. “You even let mean old Mrs. Oyinke call you Kay.” N’Jadaka had made it right in front of Kay, close enough to touch. Kay stood her ground.

“Nicknames have to be earned.” Erik’s brow shot up in surprise. Then he leaned in. Close and closer. Between one breath and the next he was so close that Kay could see his golds glinting through barely parted lips.

“And what exactly do I need to do to earn it then?”

_______________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope y’all are doing okay in Quarantine and staying safe. I obvi haven’t been writing much, but I’m hoping to change that once I finish a few more projects. 

I started a new job last month and somehow get to work from home so there’s really no reason why I can’t keep working on The Advocate after I fix a few things around the house. I’m excited about that! 

I hope y’all liked this one. Pretty sure I’ll never write smut but I like to tease the possibility of the chance of a kiss like an 80 year old victorian spinster lol

I was inspired by the Youtube channel Never Too Small. Even if y’all aren’t into design you should check out a few videos because what people can do with small spaces is literally ingenious!

_______________________________________________________________________

Let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the taglist :)

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl @fd-writes 

[stillwinterair]

I have so much creative energy that, like clockwork, manifests in me almost every single day at around midnight, give or take an hour or two to either end (I also get it in the afternoon between like 2 and 4 but it's not as strong and not nearly as consistent). It's when I have my best ideas and can generally work the most effectively; I can very easily sit down and hyper-focus on a project.

Unfortunately, work really prevented me from taking advantage of that because I was usually asleep then. Quarantine was going to be the perfect opportunity to actually... create! To actually do the things I wanted to do in life, to write and outline and work on creative projects and run ttrpgs!

Except... my cat. My cat also, like clockwork, has a mode she enters every night at midnight, give or take an hour or two in either direction. It is her "scream and cry and demand attention, but only play a little bit, mostly I just want to sit in the same room as a person, but it HAS to be a particular room, and you HAVE to look at least vaguely in my direction the whole time, and at least one of your hands HAS to be empty or I will know you're not paying attention to me, and we occasionally have to get up and walk to another room for a few minutes, and then we can go back, and you HAVE to be touching me, except now you CANNOT be touching me, except now you HAVE to be touching me, and if you don't do all of these things then I will go so far out of my way to cause a ruckus and make as much noise as possible and wake up Ash who has to go to bed early because she has work early every morning" mode and it has prevented my creative juices from being able to flow almost every single night for the last year.

I do get a lot of reading done during the several hours per night where I tend to just... wander around the apartment at Lilith's whim. Usually it's not a problem for her, we just sorta walk around and I give her some fuss until she doesn't want fuss anymore but DEFINITELY still wants someone near her (but it HAS to be in the room that she wants it to be in, which is usually Ash's office).

But when I'm not using up that creative energy, it builds. And I have so much trouble using it at other points in the day. If I start trying to write at 1 in the afternoon, I can't do it. It doesn't work. But when the feeling hits, when I get in the zone? It's pouring out of me. I have so much creativity to spend, and for every night I don't have a chance to indulge, the night after is only more intense.

Sometimes I get around it a little bit by opening a Google doc or a note file from my phone, but it's just definitively not even close to the same. All I can do is write down my ideas in a bulleted list, but the act of trying to actually write from my phone is just a recipe for frustration. I've tried to being my laptop with me from room to room, but Lilith seems to hate that (she doesn't even like it when I'm reading a particularly large book, but seems okay when I have a paperback I can read in one hand).

So this leads to nights like tonight, where my creative energy is boiling over, and I need to spend it so I won't go crazy, but then I'm working on a project in 30-60-second chunks broken up by several minutes of fussing over Lilith because as soon as I leave her alone she finds something loud to slam on until it wakes Ash up.

I can't put her in any kind of baby jail like you usually can for cats because she is SO loud and SO stubborn that it basically negates the entire point of using one. She absolutely refuses to rest in the living room, which is where most of my stuff is that I use for creative projects, and she goes on and on for hours

Anyway. I love her very much. She has just been making it so incredibly difficult to make any progress on literally anything that I want to be doing lately. It's incredibly frustrating and has become so much worse since moving to this apartment and I don't know what to do about it. It's making me feel terrible because I've been in quarantine for over a year now and have accomplished nothing, and not even for lack of trying, but because the time of the day when I am the most able to produce content and absorb information, I just can't.

And I kept trying to start running new ttrpg campaigns over the course of the pandemic and I feel like I keep letting people down but I do so much of my work on them during this creative window of mine every night, so I keep getting halfway ready to run things and then I can't put any more work in because my cat is completely absorbing 100% of my creative time. I feel like I keep wasting my friends' time in addition to my own and it makes me feel guilty -- and then I feel even MORE guilty, because of how much of this I'm blaming on a cat!

I feel like I'm going crazy! I feel like I'm having an existential crises crisis every single night for 4-5 hours! Some nights Lilith is content and goes to bed early only to wake up at 4 and lasts until the sun comes up and then I just don't sleep. Some nights I prepare, put aside everything and do something idly that can be put down easily, and those are the nights she sleeps peacefully, every time!

I just. This was a non-issue for so long, because I'm so used to cats having weird quirks like this, and hers is generally easy to take care of: it's late, and she wants someone to sit with and very occasionally play with; I can do that, easy. I didn't have much time for creativity when I was working, anyway.

But a year into quarantine, and looking at all the projects I started, and have gotten so much farther in than I ever would have been able to before -- all the lore documents and scripts and outlines and fanfictions and novels and RPG rulebooks and design documents. All of these things paled in comparison to the whims of my cat.

It's so very silly when I actually lay it out like this. Like, this is genuinely something that has been a huge source of depression and anxiety and self-consciousness for months. And then I write it all out and I'm like... Really? A cat?

But, man, I really don't know what to do. I don't know how to train her not to lose her mind precisely when I need space to concentrate at my desk, without creating a situation that would be actively worse for my partner, AND for our neighbors, because boy, if I did the thing you're technically "supposed" to do with cats (ignore them and let them work through their complaints and realize they're okay on their own, potentially lock them in a room with food and water and a litter box until they calm down), she would wake up the entire fucking neighborhood.

I don't know, this whole problem is dumb but it's literally consuming my life. I just need this very particular atmosphere at a certain time of day in order to be creative, and it's been within arm's reach for a year now, but it's been unachievable because my cat is an unstoppable destructive force

I really do not know how to write any of this out without sounding completely insane but I am losing so much sleep and getting so much anxiety over it aaaauuugghhhh this is unfortunately what we get for naming our cat after a demon

[depressedoverdrawings]

Can you hear the tumult of our youth?

KazeKi is the first romance I’ve ever enjoyed, or rather, that I emotionally connected with, as “enjoy” is a funny word choice for a work that made me feel so miserable. Personally, I’ve never enjoyed media that focuses on relationships and love, were they movies, TV, or literature.

But after I discovered KazeKi, I found myself drawn to it, almost involuntarily so. It was as if a spell had been cast. I suppose what superficially drew me in, at first, was the art. It had the charm of retro manga (I absolutely love retro manga/anime looks, IMO they have so much more character than most modern anime and manga), the nostalgic elegance of the idealized upper-class XIX century, and the unrelenting beauty and cuteness of all the boys.

It was mildly surreal and highly entertaining to witness the seed of so many shounen-ai visual tropes: The flower motifs, the flowery poetry, the impossibly pretty boys in dramatic embraces and breathy kisses, the aggressive frenchness of it all. Even it was shocking to me how these elements, instead of striking me as the tired, sappy tropes I saw them as, were now all genuine and beautiful, somehow. Even those silly sparkles around pretty boys seemed fitting. I realized these weren’t tropes back then, but elements of a sincere artistc vision. However, while the art was mesmerizing to me, I came to realize that what drew me in deeper, and kept me anchored to KazeKi, were the themes explored, and the character-based drama, the very stuff I had always avoided.

Without getting far too personal about it, Kaze to Ki no Uta was the first romance that struck something within me, somewhere personal. Now, I certainly have never faced trauma and pain anywhere near to what poor Gilbert and Serge face in their absurdly depressing story, but I definitely wouldn’t call myself emotionally and sexually resolved and healthy, and once upon a time I was a closeted boy in a catholic school, so I guess there’s space for a little bit of self-identification. My coping mechanism to my personal woes had always been to just bottle them up and distract myself with entertainment and art. And that was exactly what I was doing, browsing music on YouTube, when I stumbled upon the KazeKi OVA’s soundtrack.

I found myself listening to this gorgeous arrangement of a Chopin piece, and thought to myself, staring at the angelic figure looking back at me, across the screen: “Gee whilikers, that’s sure is a pretty drawing of a pretty girl”. Then, after reading the comments, I found out that was a boy. As much as the “draw a girl, call it a boy” school of drawing pretty boys makes me groan, I could still feel it, that first hook of interest, stabbing me. As the slideshow enticed me with pictures of Keiko Takemiya’s gorgeous art, I found myself enamoured by it. It was a particular drawing that made KazeKi finally snatch me: that same boy, lounging angelically on some sort of abstract architectural design; in the background, a neoclassical vase flanked by two neoclassical girls, and, above and below, this stunningly beautiful vegetation. So much care, skill, and good taste, concentrated in just one image! I’d have it as a poster, if I could. So, I googled “Kaze to Ki no Uta”, unwittingly throwing myself in a rabbit hole I could not have prepared myself for. Trying to read it was in itself a journey, but, to sum it up: I managed to read it about as well as one can, if they don’t speak japanese and have no access to the spanish and italian translations.

It had been years since I had started feeling emotionally numb. My most extreme displays of emotion came in the form of quiet, teary eyes, reserved for those rare, impactful pieces of art, and those rarer moments of despair-inducing introspection that I couldn’t manage to suppress, but even those lasted little, as I fought to recover my composure. By the end of Kaze to Ki no Uta, I was a sobbing wreck, doing my best (and failing) to contain my ugly crying. Ugly crying, for god’s sake. I was ugly crying, actually sobbing like a kid, because of an yaoi manga. Crying in the shower, even! What kind of weeb had I degenerated into? It hurt. It deeply hurt, in a way I hadn’t been made to hurt in a long, long while. KazeKi had impacted me to the point that I wasn’t just sad, I was scared too, as the waterfall of emotion opened the path for that deeper, personal darkness to come out. And it did.

Now, I admit I’d been a little bit more emotionally fragile than usual right before I read it, due to the effects of the quarantine and the previous consumption of a highly depressing piece of media: Les Amitiés Particulières, which is probably even more depressing than KazeKi as it deals with a much more grounded homophobia-induced tragedy based in real life. Somehow, it didn’t impact me as much as KazeKi, however. Also, it was definitely what influenced my personal YouTube algorithm to recommend me the KazeKi soundtrack, so I wouldn’t know of KazeKi if it weren’t for Amitiés. But even then, it felt unnatural to, well, feel so much. I hadn’t felt this invested in and attached to fictional characters ever since I was a little kid, too young to realize those people in the TV weren’t real. In the following couple of weeks, I was crying over these boys, spending whole days feeling like trash, feeling mild anxiety spikes whenever I remembered about KazeKi, having (even more) difficulty falling asleep, and utterly failing to avoid thinking about my deep-seated intimate issues, all because of these dumb, pretty anime boys. Not even my trusty prayer of “they’re not real people, stop being stupid” worked. In an attempt to stop wallowing in this shounen-ai hell, I decided to consume a whole lot of escapist media while I deliberately avoided any activity related to KazeKi, be it reading the manga, listening to the OVA’s soundtrack, looking at fanart, or even just thinking about it. It “worked” for a month or so, but now I’m back here, wallowing in KazeKi’s painful beauty again, stalking the other seven people in the western world that seem to care about KazeKi, and distilling my thoughts in this bizarre textwall, in an attempt to work it out. If you’re one of those seven people, please don’t refrain from talking to me, if you feel like it! I’ve had just one opportunity to have a conversation about KazeKi, and it was in YouTube comments, for heaven’s sake. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m this afflicted by KazeKi due to its unrelenting, merciless, cruel beauty. Everything about it is presented in this assembly of pure beauty and lost perfection, this painful nostalgia that is present in its aesthetics of an idealized Europe which lives only in its surviving art, that is present in the story which ultimately tells us of the loss of love, and is present in the fact that the whole story is a broken man’s reverie about the past. Tragedy might make me sad, but tragedy with beauty will destroy me. Bittersweetness is just so more cruel than bitterness. And it was this masterpiece of sadistic bittersweetness that permanently broke something in how I deal with my emotions. Kaze to Ki no Uta touched me deeply, to the point of leaving a permanent impression, I’m afraid. I can count in one hand the pieces of art that have punched my soul in the face like KazeKi did. I am honestly flabbergasted over the effect it had over me. At first I felt embarrassed over being emotionally obliterated by a freaking shounen-ai, but I’ve since come to the conclusion that KazeKi is a work of art, a genuine, sincere work of art, deserving of the title. Now I just hope I’m not alone in being emotionally obliterated by this freaking shounen-ai. After everything they went through, the personal fights, the shaky development of their relationship, the undeserved ostracism at Lacombrade, Auguste’s demonic persecution, the escape; how could it be that Gilbert’s life would end in such a horrible way, and that Serge would be left alone to face the full, unbearable weight of his grief! Why?! Keiko Takemiya, you’re a vile sadist. You’re a genius, too, of course. But you’re a vile sadist.

I knew that a happy ending wasn’t going to happen. The horrible ending was a pretty early spoiler, really. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t stop myself from reading on anyway, and I couldn’t stop myself from having an inkling of illogical hope. Even if my logical self knew a happy ending wasn’t gonna happen, it couldn’t prepare me for just how tragically their love would end, and how awful it all would feel, once I knew their full story.

It’s all the more bitter because of how close Serge came to saving him, too. Having escaped together to a place where they could’ve built the nearest thing to a normal life a gay couple could have, back then. But in the end, not even Serge’s love could mend Gilbert’s mutilated soul. Those boys deserved so much better, especially Serge. Serge, you sweet angel! You were created to suffer.

KazeKi really is a masterpiece in how it explores its extremely heavy themes and the minds of its characters, and how it flawlessly meshes that with perfect art. There are many moments in KazeKi that haunt me: Serge letting that bird go, Serge’s vision of Gilbert at the Lacombrade grounds, Gilbert running into the carriage, angel wings behind him; Serge laying alone on the bed in Room 17. I cannot look at those pages without tearing up and feeling this horrible feeling in my heart, and this feeling is literal: My heart actually feels heavy and constricted when I think about it, it can’t be healthy. Up until now, I thought “cri evrytiem” was just a meme. KazeKi has woken me up to the fact that bottling up one’s own personal issues will inevitably end with them exploding out, leading to something much, much worse. I am scared by the prospect of facing my personal issues. To me, they are horribly strong, and seem incredibly hard to solve, if they’re even solvable at all. I’m horrified by the prospect of facing them, working to solve them. I’m so scared, that simply thinking about it, right now, gives me this awful weight in my chest, and makes me want to cry, again. But I know now that I have no choice in this matter, as the only alternative is that abyss I dare not speak of, and one cannot return from. Melodramatic? Yes. But I did just read Kaze to Ki no Uta.

Thank you for getting this far, whoever you are.

I’m forever haunted by Serge’s words to his long-gone Gilbert, right at the beginning:

“Gilbert Cocteau, you were the greatest flower to ever bloom in my life. In the faraway dreams of youth, you were a bright red flame, blazing so fiercely… You were the wind that stirred my branches. Can you hear the poem of the wind and trees? Can you hear the tumult of our youth? Oh, there must be others who so remember their own days of youth…”

[ae0nx]

FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 3 RECAP

I’m sorry if I get a little too personal in this one... erm... Yuki and Aya’s relationship definitely brings up a lot of things with me and my own relationship to my older sisters and... yeah? Good art isn’t good unless you can have a deep emotional reaction to it, right?...

Lol, when you’re reliving a traumatic moment and your over zealous older sibling bursts into your private time... ahaaaaa.... quarantine is the worst.... Of course, I know that Aya means well but I’m really feeling for Yuki right now haha

- How tight was Aya holding onto Yuki’s shirt for it to rip like that? Hahah or rather how old was Yuki’s top lol

- But because I make a metaphor out of everything, Yuki always has this buttoned up pretence he shows to everyone and Aya has this way of getting under Yuki’s skin and breaking the perfect outer layer that Yuki has created. Maybe the accidental tearing of his shirt was just a visual metaphor for their relationship? But then, Aya mending Yuki’s shirt and then going too far by stitching a redesign pretty much shows so much about how Aya presently treats Yuki hahaha

The peach metaphors in the english dub were EVERYTHING. MY favourite disaster ship. <3

...🙋🏾‍♀️

- Shigure’s laugh, I can’tttt hahaha Haven’t had a laugh from him like that since he and Yuki found Tohru camping out in the woods

Aw, don’t be mean to Kyon-Kyon. And, of course, the guy is working out. 

I’m guessing we’re gonna get more of these Yuki faces for the rest of this season... I’m praying for you, my dude 😂

I LOVE THIS MOMENT SO MUCH. EVERY TIME IT GETS ME. AHAHA

But, Aya looks gorgeous as always, I mean, I could never hate. Outfit appreciation: 5 stars

Fruits Basket is pretty much top tier anime for me, personally. BUT, I really wish they delved a bit more into gender presentation/exploration cos it always seems to go on the edge and sometimes it’s more so on the audience to read between the lines but it never seemed to go fully and blatantly in. And this story goes into so many different issues, it’s oddly surprising that it didn’t. I guess I’d have to blame the year that this manga came out and the general public not being as aware or educated about gender presentation. But, I find Yuki’s disposition or more accurately his confusion to men being feminine pretty interesting... especially if you link it to his experience with Akito (those who know, know). 

hmmm....

I love finding parallels.

Wow... another moment that hit close to home. Ok, so I’m lucky to have had a pretty good relationship growing up with my parents. But, the relationship I have with my older sisters (for the most part it’s one of them but in general both)? Not great. Hasn’t been great for a while. Like flashbacks to childhood and it still wasn’t great. And there’s been many times where I’ve reached out and they’ve never had my back... or even made it worse. And this moment?

Literally pierced right through me.

*sighhhhhhh*

I love the small debate Yuki and Aya have at the end of this though when it comes to who should try and make an effort more. And yes, they should both be trying. Although, I would argue that Aya should make more of the effort as he is the older sibling and he is the one who basically cast the first stone to create the ripple that is their relationship. But, I also agree that Yuki should make an effort to be more understanding of Aya and also try and understand his ways of making up for his past actions as they are genuine (even if they are overzealous lol) I love that the characters acknowledged that be they extremely different, they should come to an understanding of each other and try and build a healthy relationship.

I can only hope the same happens for me whenever my sisters decide to grow up...

This is a beautiful Mine and Aya moment! I love.

I do love a parallel ☺️

- I appreciate the delicacy in the animation of Aya crossing his legs, very reminiscent of a certain foolish king... (I should just rewatch Ouran)

CUUTTTEEE

- I’d just like to make a point that Yuki didn’t blush when he saw Tohru... that’s all 😉😸🤡 (I’m sorry)

But...

THIS GUY. FULLY KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING. AND I LOVE IT.

This was even funnier in the sub! This was my first time hearing Aya’s Japanese VA, Takahiro Sakurai and he was stellar in this moment hahahaaaa Christopher Sabat as Aya is great cos... Christopher Sabat lol and I also like Aya with a slightly deeper voice.

Hatori is a total mood, as always. <3

- That ending frame of everyone at the banquet makes me want to recreate it as a lino print... huh... too bad all the PRINT STUDIOS ARE CLOSED NOW. 😭

- Ooooo are we getting angry, protective Kyo next ep? Yessssss, gimme gimme.

As always I didn’t think I’d have that much to say but then I end up saying a lot! I don’t know if I’ll ever not be surprised at that even though the notes I make while watching are bare boned. Sorry, if I got a little uncomfortably personal but for me, Yuki and Aya’s relationship is the one that hits closest to home. I hope you still enjoyed my recap!

See you next week!

[spaceskam]

for @youaremyworldlois ❤️️

ao3

“Do you wanna come stay with me? There’s room.”

“No, no, I don’t wanna get your dad sick on accident.”

“Okay,” Liz said skeptically, “I’m here if you need me.”

“I know, thank you, but I think it’ll be fine,” Alex sighed. 

He was huddled in bed, trying not to pout too much about the situation for the last week. Starting Monday, classes would be solely online which sucked since he was a guitar major and there were few things more anxiety-inducing than being in a small apartment and practicing for hours on end. However, it was only made worse by the fact that he was stuck with his stupidly hot roommate that apparently didn’t have anywhere to go home to either.

“Stay safe, love you!” Liz told him.

“Love you too.”

The call ended and forced Alex to see that it was already 2PM and he hadn’t gotten out of bed. He decided to climb out of bed and face reality. He put on pants and a shirt, knowing damn well his roommate would probably be roaming around. He wasn’t even sure that guy even slept.

For the first two years of college, Alex had lived in a dorm with random guys that always made him uncomfortable. He hated living with strangers in just one room with no semblance of privacy, especially when he had no idea what they would do if they knew their roommate was gay. Then, whenever dorms would close, he would have to couch hop since there was no way he could go back home. 

So, after his sophomore year, he started looking into off-campus apartments. He had a good amount of money saved up and all he had to do was find a roommate. It proved harder than expected because Liz already lived with her boyfriend and Maria lived back home, so he had to actually look for someone he could be comfortable with.

That’s when he found Michael.

Or, actually, Liz found Michael. He was her boyfriend’s brother and apparently a genius that doubled as a giant puppy. He was in a frat and had lived in his frat house for a while before deciding to move out so he could focus better in school. They’d met and Alex had laid out all his concerns and Michael had taken them all in stride, happily agreeing to whatever as long as he had a place to rest his head.

They’d been living together for about six months by the time schools were beginning to shut down and, the closer it got to when UNM would be closing, the more Alex got anxious. Living together for six months didn’t actually mean they hung out ever. Most days, they never even saw each other and he could count the number of conversations outside of ‘I’m going to the store, you need anything?’ on one hand.

But now, according to the fucking CDC, he was going to be stuck alone with him for the foreseeable future.

“Good morning,” Michael said, not even looking his way when Alex stepped out of his bedroom.

“Is it morning?” Alex asked. Michael looked up from whatever the hell he was doing at the coffee table and smiled.

“For you it is,” he answered happily.

That was another thing about Michael. He was so painfully heterosexual that he didn’t seem to have any idea what the hell that smile could do to someone like Alex who basically fell in love with any guy who gave him attention. It was the worst and it would the main reason Alex had no problem keeping his distance from him.

“So, quarantine,” Alex hummed, looking in their newly stocked kitchen for something to eat. He decided on toast and popped two slices of bread in the toaster. “Are you, like, gonna go home?” Alex already figured the answer was no since he didn’t go anywhere to Christmas, but he figured he should ask.

“Nah,” Michael said, “You?”

“Nope,” Alex answered, “So I guess we’re stuck together.”

Michael gave that overwhelming little smirk and licked his lips, cocking his head in Alex’s direction. “I guess we are.”

Alex turned to face the toaster and tried to think of how he was going to survive like this. Why did he have to be so hot and so straight at the same time? It just wasn’t fair.

When Alex had first met him, he’d thought that maybe he wasn’t straight. It was just a vibe he gave off and the way he sat in his chair. However, when he asked Liz about it, she’d basically laughed and said he was the straightest guy she knew. Then, when Alex inevitably let him know that he was gay, Michael just said ‘cool’ instead of coming out as anything other than straight. It was even further confirmed whenever he’d text Alex to make sure it was okay to bring a girl over. Which, that only happened about six times, but still. All girls. Straight, straight, straight.

Not like he’d have a chance anyway.

“What exactly are you doing?” Alex asked, holding a napkin under his toast as he walked towards the living room. Might as well get used to talking to him.

“A puzzle,” Michael answered. However, when Alex got closer, he saw what looked like the base of a miniature house.

“That is not a puzzle,” Alex laughed. Michael laughed right alongside him.

“Yes, it is! 3-D puzzle, it’s a replica of the Neuschwanstein Castle.”

“The what?”

“Sorry, did I pronounce that wrong? I didn’t Google it.”

“I have no fuckin’ idea,” Alex said, shaking his head. Michael gestured for him to sit on the other side of the coffee table.

“Wanna build it with me? Maybe we can actually bond for once?” he suggested. Alex huffed a small laugh and agreed, carefully sitting down across from him and placing his toast on the napkin on the table. “So, Alex, you come here often?”

“Is that how we’re gonna bond? Because I think I might have to go back to my room.”

“No, stay,” Michael laughed, “Help me build this thing.”

So Alex did. It was kind of weird actually spending time with him, but it turns out Michael wasn’t so bad for a straight guy. He was funny and a whole lot better at building than Alex was. 

When the castle was halfway built, Alex felt a socked foot graze his calf. Every hair on his body stood up in alert, eyeing Michael in shock only to see him straight up steal the rest of his toast by shoving the entire thing in his mouth.

“Did you just eat my toast?” Alex scoffed. He was actually pretty thankful for the distraction because he would’ve hyperfixated on that little touch for hours. Who was he kidding? He was going to do that anyway.

“You haven’t touched it for five whole minutes,” Michael said, his cheek puffed out and stuffed with bread, Alex laughed, genuinely laughed.

“What is wrong with you? Were you never taught manners?”

“No,” Michael answered innocently. Which, honestly, just made them both laugh harder. “Also I lived in a frat house with, like, 10 other guys for two years. We consume or we die. You’re, like, the cleanest and most respectful guy I’ve ever lived with.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Want me to make you some more toast?” Michael offered. Alex smiled and tried not to become too obsessed with his charm, shaking his head.

“No, but I will take you up on a pot of coffee.”

“On it!” Micahel said, standing to his feet and showing that he was in nothing but a ratty old t-shirt and tight boxer briefs and socks with little koalas on them. Alex tried—and failed—not to watch him walk to the kitchen area and slide on his socks towards the coffee maker.

This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

-

“Hey, I hate to be that fuckhead, but could you turn your music down? I have a lesson.” 

“No problem,” Michael said, turning his music down. Alex gave him a thankful smile and then quickly went to go to his online guitar lesson at his setup in his room.

He had his sheet music in front of him on his stand and his laptop propped up beside it, easily connecting whenever his professor started the video call.

It was weird, trying to take notes and adequately tweak them via video. He was used to being shown in person how to correct his finger placement or his posture. This was just... He wanted to go back to normal.

“Keep up the good work,” Dr. V said. Alex could tell, though, that he was just as irritated with the lack of hands-on teaching. Working with one teacher one on one really created a close bond of trust and familiarity. Alex could fuck up with Dr. V and not even think twice about it. They were like family.

And now it was fucking weird.

“I sent you scans of that more contemporary piece considering it’s less crucial for you to work on your performance pieces. Have fun with it, play around, show me what you come up with next lesson,” Dr. V added before saying his goodbye’s. Thankfully, that was Alex’s last class of the day.

“You’re really good.”

Alex nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened his bedroom door to see Michael loitering a few steps away. He looked like he’d been there for a while.

"Were you standing there the whole time?”

“Huh? No, I, uh, I was gonna ask what you wanted for dinner and then I heard you were still playing, so I was waiting so I wouldn’t interrupt you. And, well, you’re really good,” Michael said, his fingers tapping against his thigh as he rose up on his toes and dropped back down. His curls sprung with the movement.

“Thank you,” Alex said, trying to smile despite the fact that made him uncomfortable. As stupid as it was, he didn’t really like having random people hear him play. It was different when he was actually performing. Whoever was there came to see him and wanted to hear him. But, like this, it felt like he was simply being annoying.

“You know, I always wanted to play guitar,” Michael said, biting down on his lip just a little bit and Alex had to wonder why the hell he deserved that.

“I mean,” Alex started, looking around before being forced to look back at Michael due to the lack of scenery, “Maybe I can show you a thing or two sometime? I don’t just know classical.”

Michael split into a happy grin and bounced on his toes one more time. “Sounds super fun.”

“So,” Alex said, “Dinner?”

Michael blinked a couple times as if suddenly realizing where the conversation had originated. It was the cutest thing.

“Oh, right.”

-

“We need to do this more often, I think it’d help my fucked eating schedule.”

“Well, we can, if you want.”

“Cool,” Michael said all happily. They were making breakfast together like some sort of domestic couple, bustling around the kitchen to concoct something edible. Eggs, toast, and apparently Michael also needed waffles with those things. 

Alex got to work on the toast and waffles while Michael made the eggs.

“Don’t put any pepper in mine, please, pepper makes me wanna gag,” Alex mentioned. Michael gave him a bewildered look.

“Says the guy who put, like, an absurd amount of Tony’s on his fried rice,” Michael scoffed. Alex grinned. He remembered that?

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Is it really?” Michael asked. Alex laughed and swatted in his direction. Michael grabbed his arm instinctually and tugged him closer. It caught Alex so off guard that all he could do was stare with wide eyes. Eventually, Michael seemed to realize that was a little fucking weird and let go, taking a step back. “Do you want me to put Tony’s on your eggs?”

“Yes, please,” Alex said, clearing his throat in an attempt to not sound like that was weird. Which, it was weird. And absolutely not at all good for him brain that seemed to think Michael was more and more lovable each day.

A couple minutes later, Michael got his attention again.

“Try this, tell me if it’s enough,” he said, holding up a fork with scrambled eggs on it. Alex looked between it and Michael’s eyes a few times before realizing he was just going to feed it to him. Is this what they did at the frat house? He would really like to know.

But, instead of questioning it, Alex opened his mouth and let Michael feed him the bite.

“Good?” Michael asked, smiling all proud of himself. Alex almost forgot what he was asking about.

“Yeah. So good.”

-

“I’m gonna go insane.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Alex hissed, covering himself with his blanket to try and stifle his words despite the fact that Michael was taking a shower and couldn’t hear him, “He’s so fucking cute and nice. Who allowed him to be both? It’s a goddamn crime.”

“Alex, his niceness is why you let him be your roommate in the first place,” Liz pointed out with a laugh.

“Yeah, so?” Alex groaned, “It’s overwhelming. Do you know what he does for fun? Puzzles. And then, last night I guess he ran out of puzzles, because I woke up at, like, three in the morning to get water and he was building a house of cards. Not just a house, a fucking castle. What the fuck is that? Why am I attracted to someone who builds card castles?”

Liz laughed even louder, “Alex, maybe it’s the quarantine. I mean, you’re stuck with him, so you’re bound to catch some feelings because they have nowhere else to go.”

“Okay, but he’s a straight guy that I once saw wash his hair in the kitchen sink on one side and defrost chicken on the other.”

“Ew,” Liz said.

“I know! And yet I look at him and want to put my head through a wall to stop feeling like a pile of goo,” he groaned, “Sometimes I think he is just instigating it.”

“What do you mean?”

“A couple mornings ago, he pulled me close to him and fed me a bite of eggs. Like, who does that? The more I think about it, the more I think he’s messing with me,” Alex whined. Liz was silent for a moment.

“Michael isn’t the type of guy to just, like, mess with people. Especially not his roommate,” she said cautiously. Alex didn’t know what to respond. “Maybe ask him not to do stuff like that? Ask him not to lead you on?”

“Okay, but I’m not going to ask him not to lead me on because then he’ll think I like him,” Alex argued.

“But you do.”

“But he doesn’t know that!”

“Hey, Alex?!” Michael called from the other room, very quickly making Alex panic about what he could’ve overheard.

“Yeah?!” Alex yelled back.

“Can you get me a towel from the dryer?! I washed them to take a shower and then I forgot!” he called. Alex gulped hard and looked upwards, letting out a quiet, strained noise.

“Yeah, gimme one second!” he yelled, “Okay, Liz, I gotta go, He needs me to get him a towel.”

“Seriously, Alex, you need to ask him—“

“Nope, bye! Talk to you later,” Alex said, hanging up before she could try to pressure him into having an adult conversation.

Instead, he went and fetched a towel and then knocked on Michael’s bathroom door. The door opened only a few inches, but it was enough to see a soaking wet body that was tanned and covered in chest hair and Alex realized he was beyond help.

Instead of risking saying anything embarrassing, he just held out the towel. Michael flashed a smile, a ringlet already forming against his forehead that dripped water onto his nose. How was he even real?

“Thank you,” Michael said, winking before he closed the door again.

Alex decided then and there that it had to just be hormones. He was going stir-crazy with nothing but hormones and a hot guy. That’s it. Because there was no goddamn way he looked that good. Alex had to be exaggerating in his head.

He just fucking had to.

-

“Okay, you promised me over a week ago that you’d teach me some things on the guitar and you still haven’t.”

“Okay, okay, come here,” Alex said. Michael smiled like a kid in a candy store and bounced on his toes before meeting Alex on the couch. 

Alex had been a little bit better about keeping his distance and giving himself a reality check daily after the amount of wet skin he’d seen during the shower incident. That was really only two days ago, but still. He was reminding himself that he only felt so attracted to him because he had no other choice in the moment or something. Now, however, that was hard to remember when he was sitting so close.

Still, Alex handed over his guitar. Michael looked at him expectantly. It was almost too much to handle.

“Okay, so these things are called frets and the strings are numbered one through six going from this end to this end,” Alex said, pointing at what he was talking about. Michael nodded along. “Okay, so put your index finger on the first fret, second string. Middle finger on the second fret, fourth string. Ring finger, third fret, fifth string.”

Michael slowly did just that. When Alex reached to adjust his finger and hand placement, he let him. He listened well and molded to whatever Alex suggested.

“Okay, now strum,” Alex told him, listening to the sound it made, “And that’s C Major.”

“Oh, shit,” Michael laughed. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes.

For the next few minutes, Alex walked him through chords: A minor, G Major, F Major, the basics. He explained how to hold the neck of the guitar so it wouldn’t cramp up his hand and how to not press down too hard, but also not too light to get the best sound out of it. They walked through them and switching chords. Alex explained how it got easier with time and with calluses. 

“And now basically you can play 90% of pop songs,” Alex said. Michael’s eyes went wide and he laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah, most pop music is made up of just those four chords or variations of them. Sorry to disappoint,” Alex told him. Michael shook his head.

“Show me another one,” he asked. 

“Okay,” Alex agreed. He leaned a bit close again, talking and guiding Michael through the finger placement for D Major. But then Michael moved his hand off the body of the guitar and to Alex’s cheek, leaning.

For a moment, Alex was frozen and feeling more confused than he had in a long time.

“Sorry, do you not want to?” Michael asked after a few seconds of kissing Alex and Alex just not kissing back.

Logically, Alex should’ve explained that he was confused. He should’ve said that he thought Michael was straight and that, if he was indeed straight, he shouldn’t be doing this because this was mean. He should’ve been an adult. 

But he had been stuck alone with him for three weeks and all sense of logic seemed to fly out the window.

Alex moved the guitar to the coffee table with one hand and grabbed Michael’s neck with the other. He pulled him in for a much more heedless kiss that the first one. Michael made a soft noise of approval as his hands went to pull Alex closer by his hips.

Things moved fast. If it were a normal circumstance or a normal situation, Alex would’ve thought it was too fast. But this wasn’t normal and Alex couldn’t contain himself. He’d been thinking about this for days. Weeks. Probably even months.

He let Michael kiss down his neck, he helped strip them both down, he happily melted when he was finally being touched by someone that wasn’t himself.

He enjoyed every second.

-

Alex wished his horny brain had warned him that the next morning would feel weird.

He woke up first and laid there, frozen on the couch for thirty minutes because he was too scared to moved. Michael was laying on top of him partially, his head on his chest and his thigh draped against his hips. It was the first time Alex had ever actually seen him sleep and so he was too nervous to wake him.

In that hour, though, he was able to plan what he was going to say. He was going to assure him that it didn’t mean anything and that things happen. It was just circumstances. They could still be roommates. Going down on a guy didn’t make anyone gay. He had it all planned and fully expected a breakdown the moment Michael woke up and realized what happened. 

Only, again, he couldn’t have predicted what actually happened.

Michael woke up slowly, shifting a little bit and stretching his legs out. He didn’t jump or scream. He rubbed his thumb all the way from Alex’s nipple to his armpit and made a sweet waking-up sound before raising his head.

“Hi,” he said sweetly, his voice a little deeper than normal. It was jarring and Alex was trying to find the beginning of his speech. He was only more thrown off when Michael kissed his jaw and put his head back on his chest, seeming comfortable in their placement.

“Hey... Uh, maybe we should talk?” Alex said awkwardly. Only then did Michael seem to react, pushing himself up a little bit. He took in whatever expression happened to be on Alex’s face and sat up completely. Alex followed suit. “So, um, I’m sorry about last night. We’ve just been crammed together and stuff happens. I hope this doesn’t make it awkward between us. We can still be roommates.” Micahel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and, with each sentence of Alex’s speech, seemed to become more and more offended.

“What?” Michael asked, rubbing his face.

“I-I mean, don’t worry,” Alex assured, “What happened doesn’t make you gay and I hope you aren’t, like, weirded out by me.”

“Alex,” Michael said, voice matching the offended look as he held his hand up, “What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you acting like I wasn’t a fully engaged participant? Like, I did that on purpose, it wasn’t an ‘oops, tripped and fell onto your dick’.”

Alex gulped, shifting a bit as he began to feel offended. So he wasn’t wrong. Micahel had been leading him on.

“Okay, well, you can’t just act interested in me because you don’t have any girls to hook up with, that’s just—“

“Alex!” Michael said, cutting him off and looking at him with genuine hurt, “Why do you think I’m acting? What the fuck?”

Alex didn’t actually know what to say to that. He stared at him blankly, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t make this situation worse. But he figured he’d already ruined a soft morning by accusing him of things, so he might as well just say what he was thinking.

“You’re straight,” Alex said. Michael huffed a laugh, falling back into the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

“Why the hell do you think that?” Michael asked. Alex sat up pin-straight, looking at him in a whole different light by that one little sentence.

“You... You’ve only brought home girls,” Alex pointed out weakly.

“That’s just not true,” Michael said, looking over at him with amusement rather than anger. Alex relaxed a little. “Ari was a guy, you just didn’t see him, and Dylan was non-binary, you just didn’t see them either—and that’s just since we moved in together. You never saw anyone I brought over, Alex, don’t assume based on names I say and the way I look.”

Alex felt his face flush and he started feeling more than a little embarrassed. In fact, he was so embarrassed, he kind of wanted to cry. Or lay on the floor. Preferably both.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, dropping his head into his hands. Michael sighed and shifted closer, his hand pressing into Alex’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly more concerned with how many allegedly straight guys you’ve hooked up with that you had a speech prepared,” Michael said. Alex laughed a little.

“I was the only gay guy in my high school, I got pretty used to it,” he admitted.

Michael clasped his hand over Alex’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. Alex melted into it, hoping that it meant he hadn’t embarrassed himself for life.

“I’m bisexual,” Michael said so confidently that it almost made Alex cry just by that alone. He was so sure of himself. 

“So does that mean you were flirting with me?” Alex asked when he got to courage to raise his head. Michael huffed a laugh.

“Wow, thanks for noticing.”

Alex groaned, “God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Just, you know, head’s up, next time we hook up, I’d prefer to have the speech be at least an hour after I wake up,” Michael said. Alex groaned louder. “What? No cute remark about me saying next time?”

Alex held back a smile and glared at the boy in front of him.

“I already know there will be a next time because we are still going to be stuck alone in this apartment for at least a couple more weeks. It’s after that that I’ll have questions,” Alex said.

“So confident for someone so embarrassed,” Michael teased. Alex raised an eyebrow that said ‘am I wrong?’ He got a kiss instead of a response. “Here, to balance out your embarrassment, I’ll admit a thing. The only reason I brought that many people over was because I wanted to see if you’d get jealous and make a move.”

“I don’t get jealous, I just get confused.”

“Noted,” Michael laughed, nudging his nose against Alex’s. It was so much touching, so much affection. Alex couldn’t remember a time anyone had done that to him in a non-platonic way. “Point is, I liked you the moment I met you.”

“Liz insisted you were straight so I kept my distance until I couldn’t because I didn’t wanna catch feelings.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah, oops.”

They both laughed for a few seconds before it slowly died down through Michael giving him full heart eyes. It made Alex’s heart go a little haywire.

“Okay, so now that we talked, can we have a redo of last night where you don’t think you’re getting head from a straight dude?” Michael asked. Alex flashed a smile and nodded.

Who knew something good would come out of this?

[bobdylansdaughter]

MY OPEN LETTER TO OPRAH WINFREY

Thank you so much, Oprah. I appreciate all you do for so many people and how you stand up for what’s right always. You’ve always been an inspiration to me even when I was a young kid. I’m almost 30 now and I just feel like I’ve known you my whole life through watching you on tv and reading your books. Thank you for being a shining light in a really, really dark world.

Hi Oprah. My name is Jennifer Thompson, I’m a mother to a beautiful baby boy who just turned a year old in August and step mother to two rambunctious teenagers. I work more than full time the overnight shift stocking and receiving at Walmart. It’s a hard job and truly wears me down not to mention only sleeping a couple of hours a day. But it’s all supposed to be worth it to keep my family fed and warm and safe right? Yet here I am, crying in my living room floor and writing a letter to Oprah Winfrey to beg for help. This is what it’s come to. I know you must get people begging you for money all the time as you are one of the most prominent humanitarians in the world. But I’ve grown up watching you, and have always thought you were one of the true genuine altruists there are in the world of media. And so here I am asking you, like so many others, can you help my family? My job is hard. It is actually breaking me completely down. And it’s SUPPOSED to be worth it. But I still can’t pay all my bills. I’m 4 months behind on my electric bill and 2 months behind on my rent. I contracted Covid (as did my entire family) and while I had to quarantine and stay home from work for two weeks (a full pay check period) I got one third of a regular check during my time at home. I’ve been trying to play catch up ever since. Of course before that it wasn’t much better, I wonder why if I work so so hard over 40 hours a week why my family is starving, why I can’t pay my bills, why we are so far behind. I feel like I’m drowning and I may never see the surface. I know this is a reality for many families. And it’s so hard. I feel so hopeless every day. It’s crushing me. My son is only a year old and I can’t afford to give him the nutrition he needs and due to working so much and being far away for 8-10 hours a night my milk supply is dwindling almost completely now. I can’t feed the teenagers all they do is eat and eat and eat and I can’t keep up. I’ve already had to drop out of school and lose access to my classes because I can’t make my monthly payments. The impact of this pandemic and just general economic circumstances have destroyed my sense of purpose and drive. I work so so so hard and constantly it feels like. I’m killing myself to support my family and it’s not enough. That is such a hard realization. My mental health has really fallen, but I don’t even have time to worry about that or even care when I’ve got so much else to worry about. I’m sorry for the sob story because I’m sure you get millions on a daily basis. And I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. This is just a shot in the dark and a shout into the void, but it’s the last little shred of hope I’ve tricked myself into having. Oprah, will you please help my family? We don’t need much, just enough to get our electric bill paid up and catch up our rent and put some food in the refrigerator. We live in a cramped 2 bedroom apartment with roaches and are paying way too much for it but there’s nothing else in the town I live that I can find, so despite how horrible it is I have to keep paying our ridiculously high rent. 650 a month plus all utilities for a roach filled broom closet. It’s tough. And it’s got mold. And if you wanted to help out with some kind of mold cleaning service that would be very much appreciated as well because I don’t know how we can get rid of it. I’m sorry to just unload everything on you. It’s isolating this level of stress and fear and poverty. It really is, so I guess that can lead a struggling mother to unload all her burden onto Oprah Winfrey in an email she will probably never read. But this shout into the void is the last glint of light at the end of the tunnel for me and my family. Please, if there’s any help you can offer just to get us back to where we aren’t so far behind... that would change our whole lives and save us from eviction or worse.

Thank you for giving me my shout into the void,

Jennifer Ilana Thompson (mommy)

Oceane Bates (1 yr)

Gabby Bates (14 yrs)

Kamron Bates (13 yrs)

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

Realm of the Quarantine Reread End-of-Book Questionnaire: Assassin’s Apprentice

Any differences between your first/previous reading experience and this one?

Uhhhhh yep!! I can’t even believe how different it was. Every scene has taken on an entirely different colour and flavour in my memory. I skimmed far too much the first time, yes, but also I just went into it with the wrong framework. I think I’ve mentioned this before but my mum recommended me these books on the basis of my love of A Song of Ice and Fire. She directly compared them and said how similar they were. Because of RotE’s length I had been putting it off for years, and only finally picked up Assassin’s Apprentice because I was itching to do an ASOIAF reread but was (and am) trying to wait until Winds of Winter to do it. 

So you can imagine the difficulty settling into a book like Assassin’s Apprentice when you’re expecting Game of Thrones. I remember my overall impression on my first read being that it was a pretty standard fantasy novel with the only really exceptional thing about it being the characters and their relationships. Characters are always my top priority so it was enough to keep me invested and progressing onto the next book and the rest of the series, but I did so not having absorbed nearly as much as I should have from the first book in the series.

Now, just from revisiting that first book, my understanding of Fitz and the world he operates in has exponentially increased and I know that will transform my experience of every book going forward. I really made sure to make myself slow down and read every word; absorb descriptions and just be in each moment without racing to the next one. Overall this book (and all the Fitz books) are much more concerned with the human condition and the effects of abuse and trauma and deep loneliness than being an epic fantasy. In fact it barely reads like fantasy at all; it’s incredibly grounded and focused. Of course the elements are there, but while Assassin’s Apprentice may not be as subversive as the rest of the series, it is certainly not generic fantasy. This book just feels alive to me now in a way it didn’t before against the rest of the series. I can regard it as a beautiful piece of the puzzle in its own right instead of just the setup. I wanna reiterate I always really liked Assassin’s Apprentice but it just paled in comparison to my unholy obsession with the rest of it. Idk this reread just really shifted a lot of things into perspective for me and I’m excited!!

Something you can’t believe you forgot

So so much but most ridiculous GALEN IS QUEEN DESIRE’S BASTARD am I dumb??? I didn’t even remember until it was explicitly stated lol

Favourite character introduction moments/scenes

It’s gotta be a tie between the Fool, Kettricken and Patience (realising there is a common theme here of Fitz making an idiot of himself). I genuinely was laughing so hard when Fitz is like, actively making himself smaller and so pleased with himself trying to help the Fool, and of course the Fool’s iconic “listen you idiot” ugh it’s just chef’s kiss baby, that’s what we in the biz call a meet-cute! (I know they have seen each other before, but this is the first time the Fool talks to Fitz). Then of course we have Kettricken who poisons Fitz at their first meeting, and Patience who Fitz continuously embarrasses himself in front of before even realising who she is. The fact that all three of these people end up being some of Fitz’s only genuinely loving relationships makes it even better.

Favourite character arcs

I think I’ve gotta go with Verity and Burrich. Verity goes from kind of a bloke’s bloke (he was so different in the beginning than I remembered!) to being a proper King-in-Waiting. He is self-sacrificial but not for pride; he genuinely cares deeply for his people, as a whole and as individuals, and will do anything it takes to protect them. He is far from perfect, and he could have done a lot more for Fitz when he was younger, but once Fitz is in his eyeline and he is confronted with the life the boy has led he seems suitably shamed and tries to do his best for him. He’s a good boy and I love him!

Burrich of course is just. unlucky. His health deteriorates due to injuries. He gets saddled with some kid and is burdened to bring him up to an impossible standard he has set himself (to not shame a man he has an impossibly high opinion of). He’s deprived of a job he loved and was good at, and most importantly he’s deprived of his boyfriend I mean lover I mean “master”.

His arc is not a happy one at all but it is compelling, and I can’t help but love him and feel for him despite also disagreeing with him on almost everything :)

Favourite quote/s

Unfortunately I don’t have any tabs atm so I couldn’t really keep track, but my heart exploded when Fitz said to the Fool after going into his room, “I wish I had a place that were as much me as that place is you.”

Favourite relationships

Fitz/Fool obviously. Even though they don’t have that many interactions in this book I loved every single one of them. The Fool volunteering to care for Smithy after Fitz has endured a long day of horrendous abuse is just!!!!! Kindness! What a concept! I could really see why they develop such a deep bond so quickly.

Fitz/Burrich is just so real and so compelling and it hurts me but I love it. Fitz/Chade breaks my heart bc Chade is manipulating his way into Fitz’s heart - I think without realising it a lot of the time bc he is lonely too, but the power imbalance is not okay when he is the centre of Fitz’s world for a long time and the closest thing he has to a friend. Knowing how Chade behaves not too much later just makes it even worse when he is so nice in this book because it just shows why Fitz has such a hard time being his own person and saying no to Chade ever.

Fitz/Verity for obvious reasons. Fitz/Hands!! They’re cute but it makes me sad that Hands betrays him in AQ. Weirdly I liked Fitz/Molly way more this time but more their friendship than anything. And next is Royal Assassin and their deeply toxic romance soooooo.

And Fitz and his puppies BUT WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT.

Favourite setting

Do yourself a favour and read the description of the Mountain Kingdom and specifically the palace. It is STUNNING and something I completely skimmed over the first time cos I’m a dumb idiot bitch I could have been picturing a city of huge colourful tulips all this time but fuck me I guess!!

Favourite chapter

As a rereader I think I’ve gotta say chapter one. There’s just so much to pick apart all crammed into one chapter. It still holds a lot of mystery even when you’ve read the entire series.

Most loved character

At this point I’ve gotta say Fitz. That’s who my heart is with during this book and he NEEDS IT

Most hated character

Okay I found Regal a much better villain on this read and hated him A LOT but whomst I despised even more w the very fibre of my being was Galen bitch disgusting!!!!!! Verity was so like, smug?? when he killed him and it was so satisfying. It’s what she deserves!!

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimised by Robin Hobb (most heartbreaking and/or visceral moments)

Literally this whole book was so harsh and I was perpetually emo throughout but off the top of my head, Fitz’s depressive episode after Shrewd and Chade test his loyalty fricking broke me, as did the entirety of Galen’s abuse/training; since I was paying so much more attention this time it hit a lot harder that he is an absolute textbook abuser and the psychological torment he inflicts on Fitz is just. deeply upsetting to say the least. It really got under my skin.

Details, observations, spoilery notes made with the benefit of the full picture

Okay this is where I just dump all the notes I took while reading that don’t fit anywhere else. It’ll be long lol so strap in.

- It’s never not funny to me that Narrator Fitz comes across as like a hundred years old when in actuality he is like twenty. Also that he looks back on himself with such a sense of wisdom and superiority, yet we know there is dumbarsery aplenty to come. Amazing.

- I’ve never really registered that for the first six years of his life Fitz had a mother who loved him and I don’t know how to feel about that

- REVELATION THAT SEEMS REALLY OBVIOUS IN HINDSIGHT: Fitz most likely only spoke Chyurdan when he was abandoned, which would have played a huge role in why he was not only quiet but unresponsive to what was happening around him. He probably didn’t even understand that he wasn’t going to see his mother again until much later, and he didn’t know how to ask questions. When he goes to the Mountain Kingdom and Kettricken comments that he speaks Chyurdan like someone remembering the language he doesn’t comment on it, so it’s likely that future Fitz doesn’t register that he didn’t always speak Six Duchies(?). He mentions in the narration that the memory of being abandoned is incredibly stark but not necessarily reliable, and possibly shaped by the Skill, which to me opens up the possibility that his memory is essentially auto-translating for him things he didn’t understand at the time. We also know that at the time of writing this he’s given up his memories of his mother etc. up to the stone dragon, so obviously his recollections of these traumatic events are going to be warped by that. Anyway thanks to my sister for pointing this out and being much smarter than me.

- According to Fitz’s grandfather, Chivalry always knew about Fitz. Don’t know how trustworthy a man desperate to yeet his grandson out of his care is but there ya go.

- Weird and hilarious that Shrewd tries to see Fitz on the day he arrives but then just like. What? Forgets about him? For years? lol

- Chade literally tells Fitz that he is a king’s man now and that’s the most important thing about him YIKES

- Chade becomes the closest thing Fitz has to a friend for quite a long time and that is fucking depressing

- It’s interesting that Chade had to be convinced to teach Fitz. It’s hinted at that there was an ~incident~ the last time they tried to train someone, followed by a long period of Chade being left to rot in the walls.

- Not to be out here diagnosing fictional characters but like.Fitz. Literally has depression.

- Fitz having to turn down Fedwren’s offer of apprenticing for him is so sad. It’s the life Fitz should have had.

- The Fool’s non-binary gender is mentioned as early as Chapter Nine! (Published in 1995! We have no choice but to stan!)

- “So quickly we were all made accomplices in our own degradation.” OOF.

- I really realised this time that the reason Fitz seems so shit at things he trained his whole life for later is because all that training was interrupted by many months of isolation, deprivation and abuse. All at the age of like 13-14. He got out of the habit of subconsciously acting in a way that Burrich or Chade would approve of. For a long time the only person he needed approval from was Galen, and he became completely single-minded about it because that was his means of survival. And you don’t just recover from that - especially since neither Chade or Burrich would give him the time of day for an extended period *after* his training was done. When Chade did finally talk to him again it wasn’t to recommence training really; he just gave him a bunch of tasks to do. By the time Fitz got to the Mountain Kingdom he was completely out of practice, and still managed pretty bloody well in spite of it.

- Kind of related to the last point: I love that while Fitz isn’t a savant at anything he’s a pretty realistic jack of all trades. He not only has an aptitude for learning almost any skill or subject but a genuine broad curiosity too. It’s one of the few things that is just him, ya know? It’s just his personality and something he can find joy in, even if it does also factor into his being used by others.

- Imagine being Burrich and finding out that your son thought you were a dog murderer for like ten years lol ouch

- Fitz thinks about the Fool soooo often in the Mountain Kingdom, pointing out things that remind him of him, or things he would like. It’s v soft tbh I love them so much!!

- Another dumb thing I forgot is that Regal is convinced that Shrewd had Fitz poison his mother to death, which adds a rather important layer onto his motivations lol

Anyone doing a reread feel free to fill this out! You don’t have to use the tag :)