#I'm actually not half bad at this writing thing

[emptymanuscript]

I admit I'm on the fence about AI in general... well, on the I have never used it and am not sure if I ever should but I've got the deep fear of missing out side.

But in the context of learning, it strikes me as falling in the same landscape as a calculator or Excel. I use a calculator or (actually more commonly) Excel to do any math because I'm not particularly good at math and never really have been.

BUT

When I was growing up, you did NOT get to use a calculator until you knew how to calculate. This was not a thing to make us suffer or just make life more difficult.

I also had stupid tests where I had to solve 100 math problems in 3 minutes, and I'm not about to argue that was good for me, helped me, or should be inflicted on subsequent generations.

I had to learn how to calculate BECAUSE of the above. If YOU don't know how to calculate, then it is impossible to tell if the calculator gave you the correct answer or not.

Back when I used to post to r/excel, I used to get flack for not showing the "EFFICIENT" way to solve problems but instead would show things step by step. But this is the same thing. If you do things in a big complicated group, you either get the right answer or the wrong answer. If you do things step by step you can CHECK your answer step by step and see if they make sense.

Do I need to know how to do 87^2 in my head in 30 seconds or less? No. I really don't. But I do need to know what is going on and why it is happening.

87^2 = 7,569 is great for a calculator to do. The calculator absolutely can do it faster than most people can. But if I just plug in 87^2 and get 689, how do I verify it? How do I check? Can I even realize, hmmm, that doesn't look quite right. Are my functions all right?

Knowing what is going on is the insurance for that. I can probably catch that, oh, I was trying to use a clever trick and forgot some steps.

The answer isn't all that is important.

And yes, it absolutely can make you dumber. Like I got to hear a discussion between two lecturers I really liked. And one just went off on a tangent and the other was clearly wondering why the hell she was there, this isn't science. BUT because I knew the details of how they were both dealing with the basic problem they were talking about - current science not being able to successfully predict certain phenomenon without numbers to fudge the situation that represent things that can't be proven independently of the need to fudge the numbers - I was able to follow the miscommunication while they, themselves, could not. His tangent made perfect sense in the context of his field of interest and made zero sense in hers. And if all you have the answers with no information of how you got to them, there's zero way to connect "I think the Sun might be conscious" and "I think half of the standard model is based on incorrect assumptions." They were in fact talking about the same things and differing solutions but there's no way to align that without talking about the assumptions, which needs to be laid out in order to UNDERSTAND the answer.

And struggling with my FOMO on writing, there's the basic truth that the reason I fear like I'm missing out is in part because I AM an expert. I have a graduate degree in TEACHING creative writing. I know my shit. So if I ask ChatGPT or whatever to spit out a scene for me, I not only can tell if it is good or bad, I can explain WHY it is good or bad and what needs to be done to improve it. I have zero fear of amateurs asking ChatGPT to spit out a novel for them and getting a novel of quality that I will be competing with. I am scared of people with enough knowledge of how writing works and knowledge of how ChatGPT creating the equivalent situation of me doing long division on paper while they're plugging the equations into a calculator.

A calculator, used as a tool, by someone who understands what they're doing, can do calculations faster and with less errors than someone who also understands what they're doing but isn't using a calculator. But it's not the difference of one being able to do it and another not. It's a difference of speed and accuracy.

It's an entirely different set up when it's someone who understands what they're doing versus someone who doesn't. You can give someone who doesn't know what they're doing all the tools in the world and it will still take them longer and produce an inferior product because they can't understand what they're doing.

And that's the basic problem with using ChatGPT for education. Yes, it can give you an answer. But because you don't know how, you simply have to trust that it is the correct answer. With no way to double check, no way to gauge, and no way to adjust the workflow to better suit your needs.

It absolutely is shooting themselves in the foot. Because school is the point where access to help with process and WHY things work the way to do is easiest to get. It does simply get harder to find the farther away from educational opportunities you get. And when you need it to work isn't the best time to be trying to figure out what you're really doing instead of already having that education and skill under your belt.

It's also relying on the fatal assumption that tomorrow is going to look like yesterday. My earliest datable memory is June 1st 1982. The world is so profoundly different in February 13th 2025, that I am very comfortable promising you that the idea that you can depend on the world looking the same for your entire life WILL get you into trouble because that's simply not the way the world works. Certainly not now. The assumption that it is safe to use ChatGPT now because you will always be able to use ChatGPT is a set up for failure. Will there always be tools? Yes. Will you know how to get future tools to work the same way as ChatGPT? Probably not. I grew up using Dos and then Window's machines. These days, the programs are so different, I find it easier to use a Mac instead of learning the new way that Windows does things.

If you rely on a particular tool solving a problem for you in a way you don't understand beyond that tool giving you the answer, you will be relearning the tool every large iteration. And eventually it will be different enough that it will set you back. That you will essentially be starting from nearly scratch. And then what? If you don't know what kind of answer you should get, how are you going to know if you're using that new tool correctly because some engineer decided that it is more efficient to move in a different direction?

Even novels have changed over the course of my life. Every book I've read that was published in the last 15 years breaks fundamental rules I was taught back in the early 90's. The conventions that I would have insisted that ChatGPT follow have changed. But if I didn't know WHY those conventions existed how would I even know? How would I adjust? Why would it even occur to me that I needed to adjust? ChatGPT sure doesn't know.

That's probably fine if it's just something you're doing for fun.

But if it is your job? Getting things wrong can be the difference between keeping that job and going hungry. It is not a good idea to be utterly dependent on your tools. Tools are to make what you're doing easier, not to do the task for you all together.

Yeah, just don't. The grades are not as important as what you will be able to do (or not be able to do) later in life. And sometimes that later can be a LOT sooner than you anticipate. I watched a LOT of people wash out or nearly wash out of college because they didn't know the whys and hows of what they were doing academically. I saw straight A students flunk out because they just learned the cheat or because their schools were crap and only taught one way to do things or taught nothing at all and just let the cards fall. I had a good friend who came in with a 4.2 GPA and nearly flunk out because she wasn't taught basic skills I had gotten in middle school.

Which was intentional.

Because she was black and poor and I wasn't.

Her schooling was designed to fail her because the best way to make sure someone as smart as her STAYED black and poor was to let her fly without ever teaching her the skills to do better when she needed to. And she was damned smart. And she worked damned hard. And she pulled through and got a master's before I did. But she was in the extreme minority and had a lot of help and still slid through by the skin of her teeth. Most people in her position crashed and burned and ended up WORSE off than they started. Which is great for the powers that be because it makes them a demonstration of why you shouldn't even try. It shows that society is stacked against you. Because it is. Because it is designed to fail.

Understand that ChatGPT is the same set up. It will make things easier. For now. It will give you the answers. It will work. Until it hits the level it can't anymore. And that WILL happen. It is inevitable. And then you have no supports and you ARE going to crash and burn.

There is a reason that ChatGPT is cheap and being forced on everyone. It is controlled by the people who are being served by the current societal structure.

Are you being served? Are you sure? Because if there is ANYTHING about you they can benefit by crushing, washing you out, setting you out to sacrifice, they're going to do it. Anything that is free in our society is a tool to make YOU the product. And they're damn good at doing it. So think long and hard about using that tool when they have so much history and investment in making you crap out for their benefit. Don't rely on them to save you.

I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:

I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"

One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."

I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"

A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.

A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.

There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??

[foreveia]

in full bloom ⤨ akaashi keiji

⨭ genre; fluff, college!au, flower shop!au, valentine's day special!

⨭ pairing; akaashi keiji x fem!reader

⨭ word count; 4.9k

⨭ descriptions; akaashi comes into your flower shop every day and buys you a single flower, and now that it’s valentine’s day, you finally find out why.

⨭ warnings; painfully sweet tooth rotting fluff, profanity (?)

⨭ a/n; part 1 of my valentine's day special drop !!! in other words here's some painfully fluffy romance to cushion ur valentines (if ur single) or be an extra gift of the day (if, unlike me, ur not). lucky u guys—i'm so painfully single that i pumped two of these bad boys out. <3

song i listened to writing this: 'happening again' by katherine li

one.

Working the morning shift usually sucks. Working the morning shift alone usually extra sucks. 

But in this case, morning shifts at Furudate Flowers are actually quite lovely: it’s always calm, domestic, peaceful, still in the way only early mornings can be. For four blissful hours in the morning between 7 AM and 11 AM, it’s just you and the blossoms in bloom—no chaos, no rush, no impatient customers tapping their feet like you’re the only obstacle between them and a groundbreaking love confession. Just the quiet hum of soft jazz playing over the shop’s speakers, the crisp morning air filtering through the half-cracked window, and the comforting scent of earth and petals settling into your skin like a second layer. It’s almost always empty.

Almost.

“Good morning,” Akaashi greets, voice smooth as always, as he steps up to the counter. 

8:30 AM, on the dot. He’s never late, never early. Just always right on time.

“Morning,” you reply cheerfully, setting down the small notepad you had been scribbling new orders in. “What’ll it be today?”

He doesn’t answer, but you don’t need him to: you already know what’s coming. He’s made it a daily routine, as he has for the last month or so, coming in the shop and really taking his time to scan the selection, head tilting slightly as he considers his options. It’s something you’ve come to expect—this quiet deliberation, the way his eyes flick over each flower like he’s searching for something more than just petals and stems. You’re half-starting to think he goes through this whole process just to mess with you.

But, finally, he reaches out and plucks a yellow tulip from its vase, holding it up for you to see.

You raise a brow. “Going for something bright today?”

He hums in response, resting his elbow against the counter as he spins the flower between his limber fingers before calmly asking, “What does it mean?”

“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you respond instantly; you don’t even have to think about it. 

Akaashi blinks. Then—the smallest, softest twitch of his lips. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close, something just as pretty.

You don’t get a chance to comment on it, though, because he does what he always does: gently tucks the flower into its brown paper wrapping, smooths out the creases, and, without hesitation, extends it toward you.

“For you.”

Your fingers pause before taking it, eyes flicking up to his face. “Y’know, most people buy flowers for themselves or for other people,” you muse thoughtfully, twirling the tulip by its stem. It’s gorgeous, even as it’s a few days away from full bloom. “You’re the only one who buys them for the florist.”

Akaashi doesn’t falter. He doesn’t even look embarrassed or sheepish, like you might’ve expected someone else to. Instead, he just shrugs—calm, composed, like this is the most natural thing in the world. “You’re the only florist who can tell me what they mean.”

It’s such a simple response. So straightforward. So… Akaashi. And yet, your heart does something annoying. You promptly tell it to shut up.

Instead, you exhale a small, amused huff, shaking your head as you slide his receipt across the counter. “You’re either a hopeless romantic,” you start, watching as he reaches for his wallet to slide over a five dollar bill. “or a weirdo. I’m still trying to figure out which.”

Akaashi tilts his head, considering. Then, as he tucks his change back into his pocket—just before he turns toward the door—he says, “Maybe both.”

And he heads out, just like that. 

You glance down at the flower, then at the others on the shelf, the budding collection in various stages of bloom. 

You’re not sure what to make of it. It’s not like you mind the attention (he’s kinda cute), but you can’t figure out the angle. Is this some elaborate inside joke you’re not in on? A weirdly prolonged experiment? A test to see how long it takes for you to lose your mind? 

Or is it… flirting?

The windchimes by the door jingling snaps you from your thoughts. It’s another customer, here to pick up a bouquet, and you’re reminded that you are in fact on the clock and at your job. As attractive as Akaashi is and as sweet as his flower routine is, you have priorities, and right now, it’s on getting that bag.

So you sigh, setting the tulip down carefully before turning back to the register, and decidedly, push him to the back of your mind.

two.

Akaashi is beginning to think this might be the worst idea he’s ever had.

Or, at the very least, the most pathetic.

This thought occurs to him as he sits at a too-small table outside the university café, half listening as Kuroo and Bokuto argue about dinner plans while Tsukishima makes quiet, cutting remarks in between bites of his meal. It’s the usual nonsense: who’s cooking, who refuses to cook, why Kuroo swears that his econ degree is better than business majors but can’t manage to budget their groceries for the week. Akaashi is used to the noise, the way their conversations spiral into oblivion. Normally, he’d step in, smooth things over, steer the conversation back on track.

But today, he’s distracted.

He drums his fingers against the table, thinking about this morning. The flower shop. The way your eyes lit up when you saw the yellow tulip. The soft hmm you made when you twirled it between your fingers. He wonders if you kept it. If it’s sitting in a cup of water somewhere behind the counter. If you even care enough to keep track of the others.

His friends, unfortunately, notice this brooding.

“You’re quiet today,” Tsukishima notes, barely looking up from his book. It’s not an accusation as much as it’s an observation.

Bokuto perks up immediately. “Ohh, you’re right! Akaashi, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re thinking about the florist,” Tsukishima deadpans, spearing a cherry tomato with his fork.

Kuroo’s eyes light up. “Ohhh, that’s what this is about? Your little crush on the flower shop girl?”

Akaashi doesn’t respond. Which, in hindsight, is the worst possible thing he could do, because his silence is basically an admission of guilt.

Kuroo grins. “Damn. So, what’s the update? Have we reached the realization phase yet, or are we still on ‘maybe if I give her flowers for long enough, she’ll develop psychic abilities and confess first’?”

Akaashi frowns. “You know, I don’t actually need your input on this.”

“Sounds like you do. Your method is tragic,” Kuroo snorts.

Akaashi pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to be patient. He’s beginning to regret ever telling them about this.

Bokuto pats him on the back, offering brute affection as he always does. “Has she said anything? Did she give you any signs?” 

“I don’t know,” Akaashi sighs, drumming his fingers against the table. 

“You don’t know?” Kuroo echoes, brow furrowing in disbelief. “You’ve been giving her flowers every morning for over a month, and you don’t know?”

Again, Akaashi fails to respond, only offering a half-hearted shrug.

Tsukishima finally looks up from his book, resting his chin on his palm. “So… your plan is to keep giving her flowers and hope she figures it out?”

Akaashi presses his lips together. “It’s… a gradual approach.”

“It’s an unclear approach,” Kuroo cuts in with a slight scoff. “You can’t expect her to read between the lines forever.”

“If it were me, and I was getting free flowers every morning with no explanation, I’d just assume you liked messing with me,” Tsukishima supplies unhelpfully. 

Akaashi frowns at that. Because… is that what you think? That he’s just messing with you? That it’s some elaborate joke? A weird habit?

Bokuto, still ever on his side, shakes his head. “No way. I think she knows it means something.”

“Then why hasn’t she said anything?” Kuroo raises a brow.

“Why hasn’t he said anything?” Tsukishima counters, flipping a page in his book.

Kuroo turns back to Akaashi, clearly delighted by this new angle. “That’s a good point. Why haven’t you said anything?”

Akaashi exhales slowly. He could answer that. He could admit that despite his usual confidence, this whole thing is different—because it’s you. Because he likes the way you talk about flowers like they hold real meaning, because he likes the way your brow furrows in quiet concentration when you’re wrapping bouquets, because he likes—

Well. That’s the problem, isn’t it?

He likes you. He has, for longer than you could know, which makes saying any confession absolutely terrifying.

Kuroo watches his expression shift and leans back, arms crossed. “Okay, look. Hypothetically speaking, if you did confess, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Akaashi doesn’t hesitate. “Rejection.”

“Okay, besides that—”

“Humiliation,” Tsukishima supplies.

“Besides that—”

“The crushing weight of knowing he misread every interaction and made a complete fool of himself in front of the girl he likes?”

Akaashi takes a slow sip of water. “Thank you, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Just saying, it’s a risk.”

“But what if,” Bokuto starts, leaning forward, eyes bright, “she does like you back?”

Akaashi pauses.

It’s not like he hasn’t considered it. There have been moments—tiny, almost imperceptible things. The way you smile a little brighter when you greet him. The way your fingers linger when he hands you a flower. The fact that, despite the shop’s wide variety of customers, he’s the only one you tease, the only one who gets a huff of amusement when he asks about each flower’s meaning, just so he gets to hear you talk about it in that sweet, enthusiastic way of yours.

It could mean something. It could also mean absolutely nothing. The uncertainty is paralyzing.

Kuroo, seeing the hesitation in his expression, grins. “Alright, new strategy. Pick a flower that spells it out for her. Something so obvious she has to get it.”

“Something that means ‘I love you’ or something!” Bokuto agrees.

Akaashi glances between them, unimpressed. “You want me to go from subtle daily gifts to I love you overnight?”

“Bold moves, man,” Kuroo says, smirking. “They get results.”

Tsukishima, surprisingly, doesn’t dismiss the idea outright. “You could do something a little more direct,” he muses. “Even something simple. Just make sure there’s no room for misinterpretation.”

Akaashi exhales, tilting his head back against his chair. “You all make this sound so easy.”

“That’s because it is easy,” Kuroo says, stealing a fry off his plate. “You’re the one making it complicated.”

Akaashi doesn’t argue. Because, really, they’re not wrong. He is making this complicated. One flower a day. One careful selection every morning. And yet, if you still don’t know… well, maybe it is time to change something. 

Across the table, Kuroo and Bokuto are grinning like they’ve already won.

“You’re thinking about it,” Kuroo announces. “I knew we’d get through to him.”

“I believe in you, Keiji,” Bokuto says, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “Make us proud.”

Akaashi just sighs, shaking his head.

But later, as he walks across campus on his way to his next lecture, as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through a list of flower meanings, as his thumb hovers over one in particular. He realizes, reluctantly, annoyingly, begrudgingly, that his idiot roommates might have a point.

Maybe. Just maybe.

three.

Evening shifts at the flower shop are chaos incarnate. 

It’s the kind of chaos that makes you miss your quiet, peaceful mornings. Instead, you’re knee-deep in last-minute Valentine’s panic, dodging frantic couples, watching bouquets disappear faster than you can restock them, and narrowly avoiding an existential crisis over whether red roses are actually romantic or just wildly unoriginal.

At least you have Yachi and Kiyoko, your favorite two co-workers, to suffer with.

“Everyone’s really revved up for Valentine’s,” you say, finally watching the clock tick to 9 PM so you can flip the Come in! sign on the door. “It was actually crazy today.”

“That’s what happens when you work at a flower shop in February,” Kiyoko hums, wiping down the counter with methodical ease. “Not that it’s a bad thing.”

“I almost got trampled when we restocked the red roses,” Yachi mutters, sinking onto a stool near the register. “One guy was so desperate, he tried to haggle. Like we’re some kind of flower black market.”

You snort, rubbing your temples. “Yeah, I had a couple who came in fighting, stopped long enough to pick out a bouquet, and then continued arguing while paying. The romance is thriving.”

Kiyoko shakes her head, but there’s an amused glint in her eyes. “Valentine’s does things to people.”

Probably one of the sole perks of being single: not having to worry about Valentine’s Day and its expectations as encouraged and promoted by capitalism. You even offered to work the day-of, considering that it’ll just be a whole day of fulfilling orders that have already been wrapped and arranged throughout the rest of the week. There’s several bouquets already ready, that just need to be handed over to whatever happy person they’re going to—it’s the kind of thing that, despite your loneliness, makes the day just the slightest bit endearing. 

You sigh, stretching your arms over your head. “At least that’s the last of it for today. I might actually get home before midnight.”

Yachi peeks at the leftover stems and petals scattered across the counter. “You still have to clean up, though.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Kiyoko finishes wiping down the last of the workspace before leaning casually against the counter. “So,” she says, tilting her head and peering at you over the rim of her wireframes. “What flower did Akaashi give you today?”

“A yellow tulip,” you answer, gesturing to where you’ve arranged the collection of flowers he’s gradually gifted you into a small bouquet. It sits in an ornate glass vase on a shelf behind the counter, just slightly out of customer view, but from where your co-workers are standing, they can clearly see the new addition, proudly displayed in the middle of the bouquet like a golden gem.

Yachi, predictably, gasps. “You kept them? I didn’t know that!” She practically launches herself over the counter to get a better look, clutching her hands to her chest; you forgot that it’s been a while since you worked a shift with her, your schedules rarely seeming to overlap. “Oh my god, that’s so romantic.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “I mean… what else was I supposed to do with them? It felt weird to just toss them out.”

“But you arranged them,” Yachi insists, turning to Kiyoko for backup. “Look at this! She made it into an actual bouquet!”

Kiyoko, ever composed, simply tilts her head in consideration. “It is a little telling.”

“It’s not telling anything,” you argue, leaning against the counter. “It’s just… I don’t know. He gives me flowers every morning, and it’s a nice routine.”

Yachi wiggles her fingers dramatically. “A romantic routine.”

Kiyoko hums. “It’s certainly an interesting one. And you’re sure he’s just being friendly?”

You hesitate. Because, really—are you?

“I mean… maybe?” you say, trying not to sound too uncertain. “I don’t know. He’s really calm about it. Never acts embarrassed. Never even hints that it means anything.”

“No way!” Yachi shakes her head, her blonde ponytail swishing. “No way. Guys don’t just casually give a girl a flower every day for a month and not mean something by it.”

Kiyoko nods. “She has a point.”

You groan, rubbing your face. “But what if it isn’t romantic? What if I get my hopes up and it turns out he’s just… like that?”

Yachi places a gentle hand on your arm, looking dead serious. “If he was just like that, he’d be giving everyone flowers.”

“And yet, you’re the only florist he buys them for,” Kiyoko adds.

That thought makes something flutter in your chest. You shove it down. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble, twirling a stray petal between your fingers. “It just… it doesn’t feel like a confession. I think you guys are reaching.”

Yachi gasps, scandalized. “Reaching? No, you are in denial.”

“I mean, what if he just likes flowers?” you try, grasping at straws. “Or what if he’s just being nice?”

Kiyoko gives you a look. The kind of look that says she sees right through you and your bullshit.

Yachi, meanwhile, clutches her heart dramatically. “You cannot be serious.”

You huff, shaking your head as you start gathering stray petals into a pile. “Look, I’ll admit it’s kind of cute. He… is pretty cute.”

Yachi blinks, before she points at you, “Oh my god, you do like him!”

You pause, mouth opening—then closing. Okay. Fine. Maybe you do like him. A little.

He’s attractive. He’s polite. He listens when you talk about flower meanings and never rushes you when you’re busy. There’s something deliberate about the way he does things, something intentional. And that’s what’s so frustrating—because if this is flirting, if this is some kind of long-winded confession, then it’s frustratingly vague.

So you just sigh. “Even if I did like him, it’s not like I’d do anything about it.”

Kiyoko hums. “And what if this is him doing something about it?”

You stare at her.

Yachi nods aggressively. “Exactly! This could totally be him making the first move!”

You hesitate, fingers lingering over the pile of petals. “But then… why hasn’t he just said something?”

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe he doesn’t know how you feel,” Kiyoko offers with a small shrug. 

Yachi grins. “Or maybe he’s just waiting for the perfect time to confess.”

“You’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

Yachi doesn’t even deny it. Instead, she beams, taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you a bit. “Listen, if he comes in tomorrow, and his flower has a romantic meaning,” she pauses, largely for what seems like dramatic effect. “I win this argument.”

You snort. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

As if that’s gonna happen.

***

When the bell above the door jingles the next morning, Akaashi steps in like clockwork. He scans the rows of flowers once, twice, before finally, leaning over and picking out a single red camellia. 

I love you.

Your breath hitches.

God, Yachi is going to be insufferable.

four.

The life sciences library is, without a doubt, the best one on campus.

Not just because you’re an assistant there, and not just because it’s the only one on campus with a café: because it’s the one in the very center of campus square, making it the best place for people-watching. And right about now, mid-February when the entire campus is blooming with romance, it’s the best time for it.

You come in, dropping off your bag with purpose behind the check-in desk, muttering a small greeting to Makki—he’s sitting behind the computer with a face of purpose, though he’s really just playing 2048 (you’re not sure why he’s pretending to be locked in; it’s not fooling anyone). Mattsun pages through an old encyclopedia someone left on the drop off counter. Somewhere in one of the sections, you spot Iwaizumi shelving books, and Oikawa predictably distracting him from doing so. 

It’s a normal day. Just you and your band of library assistants, who really do everything in their power to avoid responsibility. 

You settle in behind the desk, tapping the keyboard to wake up the circulation computer. There are a few books waiting to be checked in, but nothing urgent, so you take your time, stacking them into neat piles. It’s quiet—save for the faint hum of the café, the occasional rustle of pages, and Oikawa’s exaggerated sighs as Iwaizumi pointedly ignores him in favor of shelving books correctly.

Routine. Normal. Everything as it should be.

And then, as you reach into your bag for a pen, your fingers brush against something soft. Something delicate.

You blink, pulling it out.

The red camellia.

The petals are still perfect, even after being tucked between your planner and a stack of readings. You must’ve slipped it into your bag absentmindedly before heading to campus, but now, seeing it again under the library’s cool fluorescents, it catches you off guard.

The meaning lingers. I love you.

You should stop thinking about it.

But it’s hard, especially here, where romance feels unavoidable. From your spot at the front desk, you can see couples huddled over textbooks, murmuring in hushed voices. Someone just dropped off a stack of biology books, a bright pink sticky note still attached to the top one, scribbled with something that looks suspiciously like a love confession. Even Mattsun, who barely looks up from his encyclopedia, lets out a low whistle when he spots a couple sneaking a kiss behind the botany section.

“Valentine’s,” he comments idly. “Can’t escape it.”

You hum noncommittally, fingers still curled around the camellia.

Makki finally pauses his game to glance over. “What’s that?”

You hesitate before answering. “A flower.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I have eyes. I meant, why do you have it?”

You should brush it off. Say it’s nothing. But the weight of it feels heavier today—the quiet way Akaashi had handed it to you, the way his fingers lingered just a second too long.

“…Someone gave it to me,” you say finally.

Makki and Mattsun exchange a look, and you realize your mistake immediately.

“Akaashi, right?” Makki says, smirking.

You stiffen. “How did you—”

Mattsun grins. “You think we don’t see him in here all the time? Guy spends half his life reading in that corner.” He gestures vaguely toward one of the back tables near the windows. “It’s honestly embarrassing how obvious it is.”

Your face warms. “It’s not—”

“Relax,” Makki interrupts, leaning back in his chair. “It’s kinda cute.” Then he snorts. “Though, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m starting to think you’re a lost cause.”

You groan, dropping your forehead onto the desk as he and Mattsun laugh. 

“Do you really think it means something?” you ask quietly after they finally stop making fun of you. 

Mattsun raises a brow, flipping the encyclopedia shut with a thud. “You’re joking, right?”

Makki leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk like he’s about to break the most obvious news in the world. “He’s been giving you flowers for a month.”

You shift uncomfortably, tracing a fingertip along the edge of a petal. “Yeah, but—”

“But what?” Mattsun interrupts. “You think he’s just doing it for fun? Some kind of—what, botanical enrichment project?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that research paper. ‘Floral Gifting and Its Effects on Clueless Library Assistants,’” Makki snickers.

You scowl, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you. “…It’s not like that.”

Mattsun sighs dramatically, tossing the encyclopedia back onto the counter. “You’re killing me. I mean, if some guy was giving me flowers every day, I’d at least start questioning my life choices.”

“You don’t have any,” Iwaizumi calls from the stacks, not even looking up.

Mattsun gestures vaguely in his direction. “Exactly. And yet, even I know what’s going on here.”

Makki hums, tapping his fingers against the desk. “Listen. I don’t know what’s going on in that overcomplicated brain of yours, but if it were me, I’d start thinking about what I want.”

You hesitate. That’s the problem, isn’t it? You have been thinking about it—more than you’d like to admit. About the way Akaashi looks at you when he hands you a flower, like he’s waiting for something. About how, lately, you’ve started waiting for it too.

Mattsun stands, stretching lazily. “Anyway, I give it two days before he gives up on subtlety and just confesses outright.”

Makki grins. “You’re being generous. I give it one.”

They wander off before you can argue, leaving you alone at the desk, still holding the camellia between your fingers.

You should put it away.

You should really stop thinking about it.

But instead, you turn it over in your hands, feeling the softness of the petals, the steady thump-thump of your heart a little too loud in your ears.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ve been a little slow to catch on.

five.

Valentine’s Day is always a steady hum of movement.

The real rush had been in the days leading up to it—four days of wrapping, arranging, preparing. Now, on the day itself, there’s nothing left to scramble for. Just bouquets waiting in labeled slots, each one tagged with a name, a time, a destination. Customers filter in throughout the morning, exchanging receipts for flowers, smiling as they walk back out into the crisp February air.

It’s not chaotic, not like the frantic energy of last-minute shoppers earlier in the week. It’s gentle. Purposeful. A day of fulfillment rather than panic.

By midmorning, most of the orders have already been picked up. You stand behind the counter, the lingering scent of roses and eucalyptus settling into your skin, fingers lightly tapping against the register as you watch the occasional customer come and go.

And then, at exactly 8:30 AM, the bell above the door chimes. You don’t have to look up to know who it is, because Akaashi Keiji is nothing if not consistent.

But when you do, you’re taken aback. Today, for the first time in over a month, he hasn’t come in with his hands shoved in his pocket, ready to pick out a flower for you. Matter-of-fact, he’s not even holding a single flower. 

He’s holding a bouquet.

Your breath hitches.

It’s beautiful.

You inhale sharply. Your fingers curl slightly against the edge of the counter.

“Good morning,” Akaashi says, voice as smooth and even as always. But there’s something beneath it this time, something quieter, heavier.

You stare. You don’t mean to, but you do, because he’s standing there with a bouquet in his hands and a look in his eyes that makes your heart feel like it’s folding in on itself.

Finally, after a very long moment, you find your voice. 

“You—you brought flowers,” you say, dumbly.

Akaashi exhales a small, amused breath, tilting his head slightly. “I did.”

“For me?”

A ghost of a smile. “For you.”

Your brain is working slower than usual. Maybe it’s the boredom post-morning, maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of seeing him standing there, framed by the morning light, holding a bouquet like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like it’s meant to be in his hands.

You glance down at the arrangement again, eyes flickering over the petals, cataloging their meanings instinctively.

Pink peony—Romance, prosperity, a happy life together.

White gardenia—You are lovely.

Baby’s breath—Everlasting love.

Red camellias—I love you.

Your stomach flips.

Akaashi shifts, carefully adjusting the bouquet between his fingers. “I, um.” He pauses, choosing his words cautiously. “I’m not the best at expressing things. Not in the way I should.”

You blink at him.

He doesn’t look nervous, exactly—Akaashi Keiji doesn’t do nervous—but there’s a certain deliberateness to the way he speaks, the way his fingers tighten slightly around the stems, the way his eyes hold yours like he’s making sure you hear him.

“The flowers,” he continues, “have been saying it for me.”

Oh.

Oh.

Your breath catches. The weight of the past weeks—the past month—settles all at once; every morning encounter, every carefully selected flower, every soft, fleeting moment that felt like nothing and everything all at once.

You should’ve known. You should’ve realized sooner.

Akaashi watches you carefully, his expression unreadable, but there’s something expectant about the way he waits. As if he’s prepared for anything—for rejection, for silence, for something in between.

You exhale, a half-disbelieving laugh slipping out before you can stop it. Your fingers finally reach forward, brushing against the edge of the bouquet, skimming over the soft petals. You don’t know what to do with all the warmth curling in your ribs, with the sudden overwhelming feeling of affection, so you simply say, “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “I know.”

“Would’ve saved you a lot of money on flowers.”

“Probably.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

You shake your head, still absorbing, still processing the fact that this is happening. Akaashi Keiji has been confessing to you for over a month without saying a word.

And yet, now that he’s here, standing in front of you, looking at you like this moment has always belonged to the two of you, you think that you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Slowly, carefully, you take the bouquet from his hands. The weight of it feels right in your grip, like something meant to be held. And then, just as carefully, you turn toward the arrangements behind the counter, fingers brushing over familiar stems until you find what you’re looking for.

A single red chrysanthemum.

Love reciprocated.

You pluck it from its vase, hold it up between you. Akaashi’s eyes flicker down to the flower. You watch as the realization settles, as something in his expression shifts, as the tension in his shoulders melts.

Then, finally, he smiles. Small, barely-there, but real, soft, familiar.

And for the first time, it’s you who hands him the flower, as you murmur back, “It’s for you.”

⨭ closing notes; my best friend proof read this and she was so mad i didn't write their valentines date lmao so pretend that they go on some sweet lil excursion as seen off camera. ANYWAY love u all love keiji love that lowk this is my first valentine's single in a hot minute and im still hot and funny i hope (jk humble me rn)

[butterfly--empress]

And Another Thing...

Because actually, the more I think about it, the more it just pisses me off...

If The main writer wanted this to just be a simple formulaic "magical girl powa" kids show that sells merch. With no overarching story plot.

MLB could've just simply BEEN that. A cutesy Sailor Moon inspired story!

MLB could've just BEEN an all female superhero team with Marinette as leader, Alya second in command, and Chloe and/or Kagami being her love rivals/friends for Adrien's affections.

And Adrien could literally just BE THE DAMN LUKEWARM LOVE INTEREST that she wins in the end. Because the Deuteragonist of this show, sure as shit ain't been him since at least S4, let's be so for real.

Nothing against Alya, I love her, but girlfriend has overshadowed what used to be Adrien's role.

But in this version of MLB, being an all girl team of superheroes with a secret identity. Marinette's absurd 'whacky' antics in this show could easily be ignored/deflected/handwaved away, if we never knew much about Adrien outside of him being a popular, good looking rich kid, whom Marinette crushes on and daydreams about often.

And TA doesn't have to twist himself into a pretzel to defend his poor writing choices, when the only POV that matters is Marinette's.

There would be no need for the lore, or vaguely changing it when he feels like it. Or worrying about the unnecessary drama of the whole 'they can't know each others identities' main plot that has all become meaningless.

The original main plot of the whole secret identities for romantic drama and the reason many of us were drawn to this show to BEGIN WITH, is moot when the writer constantly refuses to do ANYTHING with the setup he writes for himself.

He won't let none of his characters have any real development and growth and only seems to care about ONE-HALF of the original two man team.

And I'm over it. 4 episodes and a lame ass Special that literally excuses the main heroine's reasons for LYING to her One True Love has shown me this show is NOT interested in doing anything beyond what it's given.

All of us invested or holding your breath for any real progress with the romantic/main subplot are going to be waiting for naught.

I was already convinced but now I'm certain:

There will never be a big reveal. And if there is one, it'll be purposely left to the VERY end of the series. And it won't even be satisfying.

Nothing will EVER be done with the Lie. Why should it? Marinette finally has the boy she wants, and even if it ever got addressed, the writer would handle it in the most contrived way possible that somehow excuses Marinette's decision anyway.

How much you wanna bet, he'll just end up retconning his own story to SOMEHOW scapegoat Marinette's bullshit to be Lila's fault?

Or Chloe's? Because even when she's not around, not in the same school, city, or even country, the writer STILL finds a way to hate on Chloe.

No...wait even better! Adrien finally finds out and to avoid allowing Marinette to own up to her fucking mistake/betrayal of trust, she decides to 'sacrifice' her memories and being Ladybug...and oh my fucking god.

......This is why TA had Marinette entrust Alya as the new leader isn't it? He thinks he's so goddamn clever!

Marinette's gonna fuck up big time in this season and then get temporary or semi-permanent amnesia to forget EVERYTHING to avoid owning up to her mistakes?

And instead of people seeing the manipulative writing to handwave away how she's been very selfish and self-centered, and her need to control everything. People are going to praise TA for believing or redeeming her bad decisions/behavior on how much she was finally willing to 'sacrifice' herself for a change for Adrien.

*groans*....god this sounds even worse.

You know what, this post had a point and I spiraled again.

Oh yeah...MLB should've just been another inspired typical 5 teamed magical girl knock off because hoping the writer does anything worthwhile with his Deuteragonist, is just waiting for Levithan to reveal itself from the deep, dank, ocean depths, and in this timeline the world's in rn, that's actually more plausible than hoping for meaningful character arcs after 6 seasons of MLB...

[theartfulmegalodon]

The scripts for my slow burn supernatural gay romance comic River & Ash have been posted up to the halfway point. (That's 15 of 30 issues!) There's never been a better time to start reading them!

Start Reading Now!

When I resume posting them this coming Saturday, I will be uploading each new issue once a month as I write them. I would very much appreciate new readers, and I am always happy to hear comments and critique!

[pa-pa-plasma]

hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor

Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.

[kindlythevoid]

On Abigail and Shawn's Relationship (Psych)

~By someone who's only halfway through Psych~

I actually really liked Abigail and her place in Psych. She's obviously a tie to Shawn's past, but I think she plays an important part beyond just being an obstacle for Shules. For one thing, she feels like a fleshed out character. She has a personality, and while it feels like it's meant to bounce off Shawn's, very similar humor-wise imo, it still very much feels like her own; she has her own ambitions and her own life outside of Shawn and Psych. She likes people, she believes in education, she's a teacher, these are all aspects of her that come out in her time on the show (trying to fix Henry and Shawn's relationship (which I address a lil in the tags), otherwise respecting Shawn's distance, going to her teacher conference instead of the skiing trip, leaving for Uganda for an opportunity she's wanted for six years). She's also still clearly affected by the fact that Shawn had stood her up way back in high school, and this connection is what makes her such an important character for Shawn's development, imo.

Abigail is her own person, but she also serves as a waypoint for Shawn. He gets to fix his mistake of standing her up, and he also learns how to function in a long-term relationship. While admittedly having the relationship start with a "Gus, I can totally do it, watch this" isn't the best, it's reasonable for his character and serves as a wonderful beginning point for his maturation arc. Throughout the relationship, Gus (and company) helps Shawn navigate the differences between a fling and a long-term relationship. He starts to mature and understand that he has to check in with Abigail, he has to make dates and stick with them, he has to have mature conversations with her, he has to respect her time, etc.

Furthermore, it also helps Abigail get over said past mistake. She gets to take her relationship with Shawn one step further, feel it out, see how it would have gone, as Shawn progresses from child-like understanding of relationships to a more mature, grown-up perspective. His repeated showing up, starting from the moment he turned down Juliet in the drive-in because he had a standing date with Abigail (even though he was in love with Juliet at the time; honestly one of the biggest bullets dodged in the show; I have never seen a situation handled so neatly. There was no two-timing, no lying (well, minor lying to Abigail, ig), and they really tried to reinforce their platonic relationship instead of ignoring a possible wedge between them. It was so... refreshing.) I would bargain actually heals something in Abigail, showing her that Shawn is willing to step up as well as that Abigail is someone worth showing up for. It isn't as clear an arc for her, but I'd wager it's there, at least in the background, which is what makes their relationship so interesting.

In the end, the relationship works as a waypoint for the both of them. Shawn learns what it means to be in a long-term relationship, preparing him for a future with Juliet. In return, Abigail has a chapter of her life closed on a high note and is able to move on with her life without the what-ifs and emotional burdens of her past.

[amethystina]

Hello, hope you're feeling even a little better.

This is going to be a kind of rant about the AMAZING chapter you just posted of WHTD lol.

First, I loved loved loved the scene between Gaon and Elijah. They are so cute!!!!! However, as I was reading it and enjoying every second of it, I don't know why I had this sort of apprehension. I felt like we will loose this kind of easy bond for a short time in the future. Wether this is the case or not, you can totally ignore what I said lol.

I love how Elijah is written. It is a perfect balance of all the reactions and choices someone who has gone through so much like her would have. Not to mention that she is a teenager nearing adult life, which a struggle of its own even for people who had a non traumatic life.

I am very interested in the case and how it will be solved! Hopefully, Mrs. Thongsuk doesn't suffer any more than she already did.

Now, coming to what I really wanna rant about. The scene between Yohan and Gaon!!! It was so beautifully done. It broke my heart in several places, for both of them.

Yohan obviously wants to be there for Gaon, to help him and be in his life but he doesn't want to make Gaon uncomfortable and burden him because he knows that Gaon has a lot of mental health issues at the moment. However, when talking with Gaon and them somewhat behaving like they normally would before the rejection, he started to slip into his old self with Gaon. And he is afraid to show any emotion or be vulnerable in any way, which would make it obvious to Gaon how much Yohan still loves him and that would result in Gaon feeling even more guilty. And, of course, Yohan also wants to protect himself from any more heart break.

Gaon is obviously devastated when he finds out how hurt Yohan is and how much he's trying to hide.

When I tell you, I was smiling and crying at the same time. But I loved it, because Gaon needs to be pushed like this so he can change his perspective and see how him rejecting Yohan was a wrong decision for both of them. Gaon thinks that he was doing it for Yohan's and his sake but I feel that he will see that isn't the case in the near future.

We have weeks of Yohan and Elijah still in Korea with Gaon, so hopefully Gaon will find a good therapist and start sorting through everything he's feeling. Add to that all these revelations he's been having in the last few chapters, I hope they'll have sorted what's happening between them to a certain extent.

I'm just a little anxious and excited about what will happen after Gaon acknowledges that he made the wrong choice and starts rectifying it. Yohan will obviously not believe him so easily, and I feel like Gaon will get hurt in many instances before they fix stuff. Both of them have insecurities that will make it difficult for Gaon in the future. However, when that happens I will enjoy it fully like I've been enjoying every chapter of this amazing fic.

Sorry for the rambling 😭. I just felt the need to send this to you and ask about your health. I know things are tough, but I believe in you and your strength. I may be a stranger on the internet but I've been following you for a while and have seen how much shit you've had to endure, and how you always persisted and came out of it victorious. Everyone has lapses and times that test us, but the people who win are the ones who stay after going through every test life throws at them. You have won many times, and you will win in the future.

Take care and try to be kind to yourself 💜.

Hello!

I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! And yeah, I just love that scene with Elijah and Ga On! They're so sweet together! And I guess that you should expect a bit of a hiccup eventually since Elijah is going to need a moment to get used to Ga On and Yo Han being in a relationship. But that's still far away at this point and the biggest issue the two of them will have. So I don't think you need to worry too much?

I think one of the important things about Elijah (if one wants to keep her in character) is that she's still just a teenager. A teenager with a lot of problems and trauma, like you say. And while she's very intelligent and quick-witted, she's not particularly charming? She can charm people, sure, but that's not the same as being a charming person. If she's being her genuine self, she's abrasive, straightforward, and determined. And I really like that about her. She's not some cardboard cut-out of a teenager who's quirky and playful — she's an actual person with both good and bad sides. And trying to handle her is a handful sometimes, as many people can attest to xD

I admit that I might put more effort into the cases than strictly necessary sometimes. I mean, they're important for the plot, sure, but they're not meant to be the main focus as such. But this time the progression of the case is tied to Ga On's progress in gaining more confidence, so it's featured a little more than usual. And I hope the conclusion won't disappoint!

The scene between Ga On and Yo Han was such a mess, but in a necessary way, yes. Because even if it hurts for them both, Ga On needs to realise just how wrong he was, thinking that Yo Han is somehow able to just shut everything off. Because of course he's not. Yo Han desperately wants to be there for Ga On but he's been told that he can't, so he's trying not to overstep. But the moment he begins to relax? It comes creeping back. Because he's just helplessly attached to Ga On at this point. He genuinely can't help it.

And Ga On is going to realise his mistake pretty soon. He will need another couple of pushes, but I'm going to make sure that he gets them. He's been working up to this slowly but surely and the therapy will help even more. As will a couple of conversations he's going to have with both Elijah and Yo Han in future chapters.

As for how Yo Han will react when Ga On changes his mind? He's going to be pretty suspicious, yes, and he's not going to be able to simply brush off all the pain he's been put through. But, that said, he's also too in love not to feel hopeful. So he won't be unreasonable or vindictive. Just... understandably cautious? And, in all honesty, pretty fascinated once he realises that Ga On is actually serious xD

So while it will hurt, it's also going to be something to look forward to, because there will be flirting — mutual flirting this time. And Yo Han is going to have the time of his life because Ga On is going to have to be the one to initiate it. And, as we all know, Yo Han loves watching Ga On's embarrassed fumbling.

And is going to make Ga On's life even harder by flirting back, which just makes Ga On even more flustered.

So you can look forward to that, I guess? xD

Thank you so much for the ask! Not just for the lovely comments about the chapter, but also for caring so much about my health. I admit that things haven't been easy lately and I'm very annoyed with how tired and unfocused I've been. I had high hopes for this year — especially when it came to Who Holds the Devil — but life just kept throwing me curveballs and I'm frustrated to find that I haven't been able to write nearly as much as I would have liked. But that's just life, I guess?

My plan for the rest of this year is to focus on finishing things that I'm really close to completing. That unfortunately means that Who Holds the Devil might be taking a backseat for a couple of weeks, but I know I'll feel better if I'm able to finish some of my ongoing projects. The fewer things I have to distract me, the better. Not to mention that finishing things gives me a feeling of productivity and satisfaction that I deeply crave right now.

So yeah. I'm sure I'll get through this as well in the end and, for now, I'm going to focus on finishing half-finished projects and goals.

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[batsplat]

Sry not your usual wheelhouse but wtf happened between maverick viñales and Yamaha in 2021 omg

tldr is that vinales tried to blow up an engine and got fired. slightly longer version of that is.... culmination of tensions that had been building for years and eventually spilled over in rather dramatic a fashion. vinales joined yamaha in 2017 off the back of an extremely respectable sophomore season with suzuki - and immediately dominated pre-season testing before winning the opening two races of the season. calling him the favourite for the title is maybe going a bit far, but a lot of people thought he'd win it. obviously his time with yamaha never really reached the glorious heights of that early promise. his 2017 season swiftly unravelled after le mans and he was replaced as marc's title rival by dovi in mid-2017. this decline in competitiveness wasn't just his fault - this is also when yamaha started losing the development war, and in general just could not get friendly with the michelins. got so bad that in austria 2018, after qualifying yamaha publicly apologised to its factory riders for being so shit (not the type of behaviour you typically associate with the japanese manufacturers). but even accounting for that, his 2018 was pretty mediocre for a guy that had looked like a champion-in-waiting at one point, and his 2019 rarely went beyond 'meh'. 2020 was a bit of an open goal for a lot of people so maverick wasn't the only one who failed to find it, but he was certainly one of those people (and yes, yes, the current spec yamaha also ran into serious issues that season). it was clear by at latest 2018 that this all was Getting To Him... journalists seem to all agree that there was a severe deterioration in vibes after early 2017 - he cut a consistently frustrated figure. fair to say he was pretty disillusioned with yamaha

meanwhile... fabio. yamaha's unexpected golden child, a guy with massive talent who'd been slightly written off by his moto2 days but who yamaha took a punt on and signed in 2018 for the following season. it was very quickly very clear they'd stumbled into a great choice. fabio's rookie season in 2019 was highly impressive and his potential was immediately obvious, with most believing he'd soon be fighting marc for titles. for much of 2020, he looked like the most likely title winner. of course, that season very much went south for him and many questioned his mettle as a result of a perceived frailty - but if you're questioning fabio's mettle, you're probably not particularly hype about vinales either. fabio was promoted to the factory team in 2021. vinales wins the first race, but after that it is pretty one-way traffic as far as the intra team battle was concerned. and fabio... fabio is winning the title, showing that yamaha could theoretically still Do That in the right hands. throughout that season, he looks by far the most convincing contender - not dominant necessarily, but it is also clear the yamaha wouldn't allow that. if anything, the title fight looks closer for much of the season than it actually is because fabio keeps having slightly odd races, featuring highlights like 'the arm pump issue' and 'the open leathers fiasco'. meanwhile vinales is finishing nineteenth place at sachsenring, last of the finishers (qualified p21 and ended up backing off in the last few laps of the race to collect some data). not even top five in a title fight his teammate is comfortably leading. next race they go to assen and vinales is experiencing a bit of a revival - he qualifies on pole at a track he likes. but... fabio ends up winning the race by a comfortable margin. vinales finishes in second

so, look, the vibes are rough. yamaha had forced vinales to change crew chiefs earlier that year, vinales was increasingly frustrated, he had already decided that he was going to cut off his two year contract after one year and leave after 2021... this had all been building for years and was now finally boiling over. and boil over it did at austria - a bad vibes sort of place, if we're being honest - where vinales... okay, I've kind of been freestyling this post and resisting doing any fact checking, but at this stage I probably should get an explanation from someone who actually understands what vinales *did*. here you go (x):

basically he lost his temper and deliberately over-revved the bike. he didn't actually blow up the engine but he could have. yamaha wasn't all too enthusiastic about someone intentionally fucking up one of their bikes, and suspended him with immediate effect. a bit more detail from the time the news came out (great news story to follow when it was unfolding btw, had the people hooked) (x) (here for more detail):

around a week after the suspension, the yamaha/vinales relationship was formally terminated with immediate effect. a few races later, vinales showed up at aprilia - which back then, despite vinales' situation, did feel kinda crazy because aprilia was The Shit Manufacturer and vinales was one of the most highly rated riders on the grid. the guy people thought would be the future for years. anyway yamaha had to shuffle around its line-up for the rest of the season, though at least they got a rider's title for their troubles. nobody check what happened to them next

[mooodyblue]

venting in the tags

[keeps-ache]

another day another consumption of vegetables

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok soim gonna ramble about the wedding in the tags cos this is my diary lol kitty dont read this (she's not been on tumblr in ages it should b fine pfft)

[icezansky]

my brain feels like mush

[sowthetide]

Update 8/20/23

Hey y'all!

I bet you're wondering where your Sunday update is at, and for that I'm sorry. I've decided to take a hiatus. The weekly update schedule was fine when chapters were shorter, simpler, and relatively in line with canon. But as they get longer, more complex, and deviate further and further from canon, still trying to update weekly has been a drag.

This isn't to say I'm losing interest in this fic, far from it, I just don't want it to become a chore (the absolute worst thing that can happen to a longfic imho). Thank you to my beta goddcoward for giving me the permission I needed to take this break <3 I was so relieved yesterday that it spurred me to write 2000 words of what will (probably) become chapter 29 in about 2 hours after days of writer's block, so I know it was the right decision.

I don't know when exactly I'll be back, but I want to have at least three chapters finished by then (so probably about a month from now). Trying to finish chapters the same week I post them has been more stressful than fun, and I want to build up a buffer of finished chapters that I've really had time to sit with and evaluate before I start posting again.

All of that said, there are so many character arcs and story twists and different POV chapters I cannot WAIT to get to. This has been such an incredibly fun project so far, and I am so grateful to all of you for reading, commenting, and sharing your thoughts with me. I appreciate it all so, so much <3 <3 <3

[ssaalexblake]

Literally cannot convey to anybody how much i do Not want to sit around and debate the timeless child plot. Like, really, i’ve heard it all (except some Really buck wild things with no grounds in reality Or storytelling) and i’ve seen the exact spine folding levels people are willing to go to to deliberately miss the point. 

I will sit here and roll my eyes, loudly over the internet, over the wilful misinterpretations over a not that hard to understand plot in a kids show, but by god i cannot begin to explain to anybody how much i don’t care if you didn’t like it and how much I don’t wish to engage in any even vaguely confrontational conversation with any of you just because i liked something you didn’t. Do you have Any idea how many arcs in dw i think are just crap stories? Probably not, i tend to not waste my time thinking about them tbh, it’s a waste of time. I certainly don’t go on the posts abt the things i dislike that happen to cross my dash to talk about how much i didn’t like it and that it was bad. 

Y’all might want to consider that, ngl. 

[snowddeong]

I just read your phone-sex-operator-Ryujin AU and I wanted you to know how enamored I am with the idea. I just love the concept of it and how it was executed.

The implicit history between the two. Yeji softly singing happy birthday to Ryujin over the phone. And my god, that moment of clarity that hits Yeji once they come down from the thrill of it?

Oof.

Thank you so much 😭 the idea is from an AU I haven't talked much about that atp I'm not sure I'll write but I'm really glad that people actually liked the execution even if it's just a snapshot of a very incomplete story. This was one of those fics I wrote and lowkey had to force myself to post because of how unsure I was about my writing so truly thank you so much for reading 🖤