#Still sorting some planning things out since I'm sorting characters and changing the events to some degree but I'm excited to write

[chaoscradle]

New Byler WIP yay!!

[nopanamaman]

How long did it take for pafl as a whole to be written? whats your writing process like and do you have any tips? i personally struggle a bit with that sort of stuff haha and i think pafl is an awesome example of good writing

Thank you so much, I'm flattered!

It's a pretty hard question to answer haha

The actual concept for PAFL was brewing for a long while. The story and characters went through a lot of revisions over the years - all before I even made the first video in the series.

I think publicly putting the project in motion was what forced me to solidify how the story would progress and what the characters would be like.

When I just started it, the only things that were set in stone were the events of PAFL and Yura going to the Zone after Katya's capture. But by Punch it Punk, I've roughly laid out the plan for the whole rest of the story.

There have been some slight deviations since then. I have given more significance to certain secondary characters and have compeltely changed the ending. Plus, some details have - and will be - tweaked as the series goes on, because of course 19 year old me wouldn't think everything through perfectly.

Still, the general plan has stayed more or less consistent since the third song. Much more so than I expected it to lol

[cupcakeslushie]

Okay. I've been tip-toeing around this AU for a while now, but I just got caught up, and now I think I have a (decent) grasp on what's going on. So I wanna go over everything I know so far to see if I'm right or wrong on anything. Don't know if you'd be willing to correct me or not. Either way, I hope my mistakes can help you understand what to clarify to other fans like me. But, I also have some questions. You probably won't be able to answer most of them, but it's at least worth a shot.

First, where's Venus? Like, why is she not in your comics that are (sort of) separate frome the canon now story. The ones that skip to the future way after all the turtles reunite. Did she die? Did she escape? Is it because she wasn't introduced yet when you made those comics?

Two, why do you keep on making references to the future timeline? I know you're planning on possibly making your own stuff leading up to the events of the movie. It just gives me a jumpscare when I see certain...imagery in those comics. I guess you're hinting at what your version of the future apocalypse would look like, but it just hurts to see. Specifically in the comic explaining both the events and aftermath of the movie and the bad future timeline. It's starting to really confuse my brain as to where this story is headed. What's meant to be the main focus? The Hamto's reuniting? The aftermath? Or the future?

Third, did you make all those min-comics before you started the actual AU? Or did you do them during?

Fourth, are any of those mini-comics relevant to the actual story now? Or have you changed your mind on a few things? It's just that everything is so all over the place, I don't really know whether to trust if they're accurate. I know most of them are just there for funzies, but the longer ones concern me. I guess I'm just not used to the storyteller doing sequel, start, prequel, start, sequel, prequel, prequel, sequel, and then end. Or maybe it's just me, and I'm sleep deprived.

My little observation speech is gonna take a while for me to get out in your asks because when I get theoretical, my speech gets long, and my proper English goes down the drain. So I'll be back. I appreciate your work very much. Despite the pain it causes me, it's still amazing.

I’ll try my best to clear up what confusion I can!

1. As far as Venus. The answer is kind of a mix of, I was still figuring out her design and backstory while coming out with some of those early comics, and then, once I had that down, I wanted the boys to grow strong bonds as a main cast. That’s why a lot of the side characters are only making small appearances in the Sep!AU Life stories, as those are mainly for the boys reconnecting. (Usagi shows up the most because I love him and am totally biased towards him).

This maybe hasn’t been stated outright, but I wasn’t really expecting so many ppl to like Vee as much as they do, and now im trying not to spoil too much of her story. It’ll unfortunately just take us a while to get to the meat of it. Since the boys reconnecting takes up a lot of the early s1s2 story, Im trying to follow the familiar Rise blueprint of Draxum, Shredder, Krang, and then in s3 we’ll have crazy fun new stories with the extra characters.

Ive also decided to take this little nugget from one of the Q&As, and use it for Venus instead of Jennika. It was a much needed bit of inspiration to explain why Venus sorta disappears for a while and will go through some major physical changes (not yet revealed) before the family can figure out a way to reach her.

2. I’m not sure if you mean jump scared in a bad/triggering or neutral way, but if you need me to tag anything on those posts please let me know!

The glimpses of the future timeline, are being scattered throughout wherever they parallel the present story in little ways, but that’s only for now. As we get closer to the movie plot, bigger chunks of the future will be revealed, because the future versions of the boys will have a larger role to play in the present timeline. So we will need more backstory than what the canon got. And also I just enjoy drawing my future versions so sometimes I don’t think too hard on a reason. I just like throwing them at ppl with no warning or reason.

When s2 ends, I plan on collecting all the future related stuff that’s been released, and recapping it for easier reading. Right now, it’s just little sprinkles of foreshadowing to give ppl an idea that, ‘oh crap. The doomed timeline is a bummer’. In my mind, I guess i thought it’d be kinda like a fun scavenger hunt for clues, but maybe ppl don’t like that 😅

3. All of the side-stories were written as the main comic was/is being released. A lot of them resulted from asks that just spawned the need to expand on certain ideas, or a desire to give all the turtles their time to shine.

For instance, when I was doing Donnie’s section of the main comic, it was a good few months where we hardly saw anyone but him and Venus. I wanted to just mix it up, and give Raph some love with his ‘Raph Time’ short. When Leo was front and center in the main, we hardly saw the others, so Mikey and Donnie got their little ‘Secrets’ short (and it was also I fun thank you for EW making it so far in the tmnt sep competition).

4. Anything that has been reworked/revised or just plain dropped should have an ‘Edit’ note because yes—I have gone back and changed some things, but more so from the asks i got in the early days, and some movie idea drafts.

All the short comics done in the last year, especially the ones that are listed in my pinned post, are canon and fall somewhere in the timeline. They’re like supplemental reading though—extra meat to give the world and the characters more personality. They do have particular backstory plot and important info in them, but nothing that shouldn’t eventually be re-visited/repeated in the main story.

um I hope that cleared up some things! I know it’s kind of a crazy amount of lore. I’ve tried my best to organize it in the pinned post, huge timeline, and search bar tags, but I know it’s getting harder and harder for newer ppl to jump in as it just get bigger. Thanks for reading regardless!

[enhasfever]

bloodline — enhypen hyung line

{ coming soon!! }

╰┈➤ [ cast.txt ] enhypen hyung line + fem!reader ft. maknae line

╰┈➤ [ contents.txt ] university!au, supernatural!au, vampire!enha, vampire!reader, fake dating, unrequited love, exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, secret relationship, angst, fluff, (possibly) suggestive themes

╰┈➤ [ summary.txt ] in which your journey with these four young men is anything but blissful and glamorous, but you live in a world where people will do anything to protect their bloodline even if it means faking relationships or keeping forbidden love a secret. will it be worth it to you?

╰┈➤ [ notes.txt ] each part can be read as a stand-alone story, though some events within the plot of the series may make more sense if they are read in the order they have been written in. also, the y/n character in each boy's story will appear in the other boys' stories and will be portrayed by female idols to avoid confusion.

why won't you love me — l. heeseung

╰┈➤ [ fic.pdf ] teaser! || read it!

╰┈➤ [ cast.txt ] heeseung + fem!reader (y/n character portrayed by le sserafim's yunjin in other stories)

╰┈➤ [ contents.txt ] unrequited love!au, one-sided pining (reader), toxic family dynamics (reader is constantly pressured and guilted), lots of angst, maybe a sprinkle of fluff (more tba)

╰┈➤ [ word count.txt ] N/A

╰┈➤ [ summary.txt ] in which you know heeseung is out of your league, but you still choose to pursue him knowing that your chances with him are slim to none. if you don't obtain his attention and love, you can kiss your place in your family goodbye.

catch fire — p. jongseong

╰┈➤ [ fic.pdf ] teaser! || read it!

╰┈➤ [ cast.txt ] jay + fem!reader (y/n character portrayed by itzy's yuna in other stories)

╰┈➤ [ contents.txt ] enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, reader is sort of a mean girl, eventual mutual pining, angst & fluff (more tba)

╰┈➤ [ word count.txt ] N/A

╰┈➤ [ summary.txt ] in which you and jay have been competing with each other since you were in primary school, and it can't possibly get any worse when you're paired for a project. that is, until you're suddenly planning for an unsolicited wedding.

impurities — s. jaeyun

╰┈➤ [ fic.pdf ] teaser! || read it!

╰┈➤ [ cast.txt ] jake + fem!reader (y/n character portrayed by ive's rei in other stories)

╰┈➤ [ contents.txt ] secret relationship!au, mutual pining, star-crossed lovers of sorts, an equal amount of angst & fluff, bloodline discrimination ?? i'm making it a thing idk (more tba)

╰┈➤ [ word count.txt ] N/A

╰┈➤ [ summary.txt ] in which you and jake must keep your relationship a secret, especially from your family. they'd never allow you to be with someone who came from an impure bloodline like his.

all for love — p. sunghoon

╰┈➤ [ fic.pdf ] teaser! || read it!

╰┈➤ [ cast.txt ] sunghoon + fem!reader (y/n character portrayed by aespa's winter in other stories)

╰┈➤ [ contents.txt ] fake dating!au, exes to lovers, a lotta angst, fluff to make up for it (more tba)

╰┈➤ [ word count.txt ] N/A

╰┈➤ [ summary.txt ] in which you and sunghoon have been happily together since high school and are destined to marry after graduating from university. the problem? you broke up three months ago, but no one knows.

╰┈➤ [ notes.txt ] i wrote a small drabble/fic a while ago with a plot similar to this one, though i do plan to change up a bit of it in this series. here it is if you're interested in reading it!

© enhasfever 2023 | DO NOT COPY, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY WORKS ON THIS BLOG.

[aeternallis]

Kim's Place in the Mafia: Novel vs Show

The one thing I can say without a doubt in my mind is that from the crumbs we get of Kim and Chay from the book and show, these two are obsessively in love with each other. So I'll say that now and get that squared away.

And I know, most of the fandom detest the book due to its problematic authors and will never read it, and that's completely valid. Furthermore, I will say now that the book is trash and hardly coherent at times. But as my favorite English scholar for Ancient Rome, Mary Beard, once said: "It's trash...but it's very valuable trash."

For what it's worth, reading the book at least once can provide a more nuanced understanding of why the showrunners made the changes they did in the show. The changes in and of themselves makes for a more cohesive story (SOO MUCH MORE COHESIVE), but it also goes without saying that a lot of the events in the show remain faithful to the novel, so in that regard, there is some merit to be had.

Finally, when I say the novel is "trash", I mean the narrative itself, not necessarily the translation (although it's not perfect by any means). If anything, I'm grateful for the translators who took the time to translate this novel into English, since translation is a thankless job most times in fandom (lookin' at you, MDZS). As I speak no Thai whatsoever, I can’t give an informed opinion on DAEMI's technical writing abilities, since I'm not a native speaker, nor am I the book's target audience.

But, I digress.

The more I reread the book (in all its trash glory), the more I find myself questioning Kim's views in regards to how he sees himself as part of a mafia family. 🤔

In the book, Kim is a lot more accepting of his place within the mafia, despite his initial tendencies of disappearing on his guards and staying away from the main house. In fact, that pretty much changes once Chay enters the picture.

Gotta love a Kinn who's curious about his little bro's love life. XD

Kim is firmly settled into the fold of the family business (if that scene in the secret warehouse is anything to go by) and there’s a scene in the beginning of the book where Korn obligates all 3 sons to dress up in some fancy suits and visit their chocolate factory, since he’s particularly keen on getting it off the ground. This shows that although Kinn is set to inherit (in public, at least) the other two sons still have their duties to the family.

In fact, I will say that one of the most interesting things about reading the book is finding out that Kim's sleuthing is actually canon. Lol Granted, it's sleuthing more in regards to finding the mole and not really about Korn's game plan, but sleuthing nonetheless.

But in the show, his role within the family business and how he views it are a little bit more foggy because he has his musical career to keep him occupied, besides his sleuthing into Korn’s affairs. He’s not active in the way one would typically expect a member of the mafia to be (and who knows, this may be due to limited time constraints on the part of the showrunners), but he’s active within that sphere nonetheless.

And because of this, contrary to the general fandom consensus, I never really got the impression that Kim wanted to be out of the mafia, yknow? Personally, I think it’s too big of a leap to say him moving out = him not wanting to be in the mafia. Having that sort of character motivation wouldn't really make sense either, because then we would have had stronger hints of it, I think?

At the very least, by the end of the show, Kim--just like Chay--has more reasons to stay than not. The way I see it, Kim wanting to be out of the mafia would actually somewhat contradict his actions in the show.

Despite his effort in staying away from the mansion his father and brothers live in (and later on, Chay), Kim benefits from being a Theerapanyakul. We see this in a lot of different ways: the penthouse he lives in, the cars he drives (he gets his own set of the Maserati fleet, yo), his private studio, the freedom of movement he has in being able to easily get information (although this may be debatable), using Big as a gopher.

I highly doubt his career as a young musician is maintaining his luxurious lifestyle (perhaps only a part of it, like the fame); imo, there’s a calculated reason why BOC chose to keep the level of his fame as vague as possible. The way I see it, Kim moved out and pursued music simply because, due to his unique position of being the youngest son (aka the spare), he just had the luxury to do so.

If he truly wanted out of the mafia, I'm firmly on the camp that he could have done so already. We've seen in both the show and the book that unlike Kinn who's constrained by his duties, Kim does have the freedom to disappear, even to the point that it's to his detriment at times. Lol

Maybe I can go even further, and suggest that perhaps the reason he chose to move out is to get a better vantage point of the circumstances surrounding his father's schemes and the ongoing tides of power. Kinda like, he has to move away from the trees, in order to see the entire forest.

I wouldn't go so far as to say he wants power for himself (although this idea would be fun to entertain, especially within the context that he now has Chay in his life to protect), but again, being a member (a high-ranking one, at that) of the Theerapanyakul family benefits him in a lot of different ways.

In one of BOC's interviews and then in Jeff's goodbye message during the last KPWT, he mentioned something about Pond changing up Kim's character in order to make Jeff Satur shine. Idk about y'all, but that's quite a touching gesture, and one I definitely approve of, whilst I get a better understanding of the similarities and differences between novel!Kim and show!Kim. It's obvious from the show that besides changing Kim's maturity level and changing his image from a fuck boi to a cool prince, giving him a passion for music definitely humanized him and served as a way to balance out the other two love stories.

But be that as it may, although we the audience don't know as to what extent Pond changed Kim's character to better fit the story, at the very least maintaining Kim's position as a legitimate contender in the politics of the mafia world remains consistent in both the book and show.

Whether that observation lines up with the idea that he wants out of the mafia though, is entirely up to you. XD

[nowoyas]

thinking started feeling like burning - nishinoya yuu/reader

m.list - deleted smut scene - read on ao3

A/N: would you believe I wrote the majority of this BEFORE having a complete mental break and quitting my job without any sort of plan? this one is gonna have a smut spinoff oneshot sometime before the end of the month but no clear ETA yet due to school and job hunting. this boy needs more love and goddammit I may not be confident in my noya but I'M GONNA GIVE IT TO HIM

Summary: Nothing had changed since you left. Not him, a brilliant hurricane, and not you, a lost robot moving forward with no goals or dreams of your own. Opposites attract, after all.

Warnings: past minor character death, suggestive themes. reader is gender-neutral but for purposes of the deleted smut scene coming later is afab. reader basically has an anxiety disorder and it's implied they have not great parentage but no major detail is gone into.

Word count: ~8600

desolate

/dĕs′ə-lĭt, dĕz′-/

adjective

1. Devoid of inhabitants; deserted

2. Barren; lifeless

Yeah, maybe that was it. Desolate. In this hotel room—small, furnished but empty—you set aside your phone and its little dictionary definition of what’s wrong with you and the definition imprints itself on your brain all over again. Hardly the first time you’ve known the meaning of the word, but perhaps the first you’ve recognized it in your face.

In high school, you’d occupied your time with almost nothing but studying. There had been friends, one or two, and a blip towards the end in the form of a boyfriend, but you had potential and didn’t need to focus on things like going out to karaoke or making out with a guy when you had exams to study for.

You had so much potential.

You recall, dimly, having memorized the definition for desolate one day among all your vocabulary. More than that, reciting it for a hopeless light in your life who just didn’t get all this school stuff.

Your nose wrinkles at the memory. Best not get caught up in that spiral, yeah?

Against your better judgment, you flop onto the hotel room bed face-first and sigh. What the fuck are you even doing here? None of this was necessary. None of this was planned for.

There’s, of course, the simple textbook facts of the situation: you attended a work event, and halfway through, went to the bathroom and just stared at yourself in the mirror—much like the way you spent the past half an hour in a hotel bathroom—went home, got in your car, and drove to a hotel precariously close to your hometown. Sure, there’d been some kind of internal monologue going on, but you don’t remember any of it anymore. Nothing beyond what you’ve known for the past six years:

Something is fundamentally wrong with you.

“So, what, we get in our car and drive away and don’t show up to work and hope it all works out?”

The desolate room does not answer the desolate you.

~

Some species of sea turtle have been observed returning to the beach where they were born in order to nest, a phenomenon known as “natal homing”. There are many theories as to how they are able to return to their birthplace…

Like the sea turtle, you swim through endless water and find yourself, of all places, back in Miyagi, staring at a house you only vaguely remember and wondering if your instincts really led you here, or if you’re staring at a random stranger’s house you’ve never been to. Maybe there’s more than one family with his last name in the area.

It looks like all the others—a house in the countryside, standard and homely. You were here… what? Three times? Five?

Not even in the double digits—you know that much. You and Noya had spent more time together at school, or at your house. Your parents hadn’t wanted you to spend too much time alone with a guy at his house. In hindsight, you kind of get it. His grandfather hadn’t exactly been the type to make sure you two were being good kids, or whatever.

Still, you run your fingers over the nameplate, the kanji of Nishinoya’s last name, and try to figure out why this, of all places, is where you’ve drifted to.

“[name]?”

You startle, looking to the voice. Familiar, yet matured. Perhaps a bit lower. Perhaps carrying an emotion you don’t recognize. That, you know, must be him.

You note with a barely-stifled laugh that Noya has not changed his hair in the years since you’ve seen him. Still that stupid, adorable tuft of dyed blond hanging down in his face. Good.

Then, the feeling passes, and the panic sets in.

What the fuck are you doing at your ex-boyfriend’s house?

“Noya,” you breathe. You nod to him, stunned.

“Holy shit, that’s actually you!” He’s closed the distance in an instant, swept you off your feet in a hug that has you crying out in surprise. When he sets you down, you stumble, trying to catch your brain before it falls out your head. He studies you with bright, sharp eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Ah. “Uh, yeah. About that? I… I have no idea.”

He blinks slowly, and then he’s laughing. “That’s not like you at all! Come on, if you’ve got the time to sit down, I’m sure we’ve got something around here to feed you with.”

“Feed me…? Wait, I…”

But he’s already grabbed your wrist, pulled you across the forbidden threshold and right to the front door. Maybe you should have thought about literally anything before showing up at his house.

Too late for regrets, you guess. You’re in way too deep for him to let you slip away now.

~

In your mind, Nishinoya is steepling his hands together like a stern employer trying to figure out the best way to admonish a bad employee. The image doesn’t really suit him, and you do know that, but you still feel like cubicle fodder waiting to get chewed out.

In reality, he’s resting his chin in his hand, watching you carefully as you run your thumb over the glass of water he’s given you and try not to meet his eyes. (It had taken quite a bit of debating to keep him from actually feeding you. The water was a concession in a valiant fight.)

“So, you don’t know what you’re doing?”

A slow nod.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” The statement, repeated, does little to hide how astounded he is at the concept.

You sigh. It is easy and so, so heavy as the air escapes you. Maybe you can drown your errant thoughts in water until you understand just what, exactly, you’re trying to do here. You try, but no matter how much you drink, you still don’t have an answer. “Pretty much, yeah. I just sort of ended up here.”

He has an easy smile on his lips, sharp eyes taking you in. “After what?”

“What do you mean, after what?”

“I mean, it’s not like you to just run off and end up anywhere. You’re, you know, thoughtful and stuff! I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of you just doing something without at least three plans ready to go in case something went wrong.”

“I mean, there was you,” you admit with a laugh.

Shit. That was the wrong thing to say, but here you are, panicking and thinking you’ll make things even more awkward than you already feel, and there he is, smiling like he’s looking at…

What?

It isn’t until he’s leaning in further like he’s about to say something dirty that you realize your real mistake in that response.

“You didn’t think before you did me, huh?”

Your cheeks flare, and you hurriedly down the rest of the glass of water while you try to think of a suitable redirect. “You know what I meant!”

“Sure do! You meant—“

“Oh, hush.”

He laughs, and you fall into silence, trying to commit the sound of his laugh to memory.

That’s what sucks about this, oddly enough: you sit at his dining room table, holding a now-empty cup, and it’s just as easy as it always was. He tells you what he’s been up to: how he doesn’t play volleyball anymore (tragic—you loved watching him play) and he’s been traveling a lot (infuriating—you love to travel) and he’s dated once or twice since you last spoke, but nothing really lasting.

(heartbreaking.)

(you love—)

(you loved him when you left.)

“So,” he says, ever enthusiastic to redirect the conversation onto you, “what have you been up to?”

“Nothing, I guess.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve always been amazing. I bet you’ve been doing something awesome with that brain of yours. You wanted to write, right? How’s that going?”

Hah. Amazing. He’s only saying that because you were useful when you tutored him. “No, really. Nothing. Sales, I guess. Convincing people to give up money for a product I don’t believe in for a company I hate. I guess I’m up for a promotion soon. Really though, I think I’ve probably just been dead for the last… what, six years?”

You’d picked the number because it was when you graduated high school. That had made sense to you—college, too, had felt like nothing. No parties, no partners, just studying, exams, and keeping your body moving forward until you had a neat little degree in a field you didn’t care about. But when you spare a glance away from the window, where your attention has been glued in hopes of avoiding letting the awkwardness and pain of this whole situation actually hit you, it’s the first time since he ran into you that Noya isn’t smiling at you.

Oh yeah. And right before you graduated, you’d broken up with him.

“You broke up with me, you know,” he says after a long moment. “Are you saying you’ve been a ghost this whole time?”

And ouch. He’s right, and you hate that. It hadn’t been his fault you’d left. It’d been your insecurities, your inability to handle the weight of your parents’ disapproval, your unwillingness to fight for something that seemed so correct, your stunning realization that Noya would always shine too brightly for you to be the one standing beside him. He always thought you were amazing, but you were nothing compared to his whirlwind personality, his passion, his sense of life.

Maybe this would have been easier if you’d ever told him that.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. Probably just that high school was the last time I felt like a real person, and that ever since, I’ve just been going through the motions and slowly losing my mind and trying not to panic about the fact that not only do I not have any direction in life, I don’t even know how to enjoy it if I did.” Your words come out calm and metered. You try not to betray the worst of it.

For a moment, talking to him, you’d been able to forget the person you’ve been since graduation. You were always moving forward a step at a time, but at some point, you stopped being a hiker on your predetermined life path and just let yourself be a robot. Mechanical step after mechanical step. Just keep moving forward and you’ll get to where you’re going. When you get to where you’re going, you’ll take another stupid, empty step towards where you’re going now. Some successful career, some boring partner that your parents like, kids, wake up, go to sleep, another day, another day, another day doing exactly what you’re expected to do. Just keep following that bright, clear line. That bright, clear line to nowhere at all.

And then you stumbled. And now you’re here, again. Dizzy, sitting at the same table with the same guy.

At some point, you’d trailed off, staring at the table and searching for scars of a life well-used on its surface. You hear the shuffle of him standing over you, and look up to find him reaching out a hand to you. “Alright. Come on.”

“Come… on?”

He leans forward a bit more to take your hand and pull you up. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“Huh? Wait, but where?”

“Don’t know yet!”

He drags you out, and you stumble after him in mind and body.

“It’s one o’clock!”

“So we’ll scout places that look good while we get lunch. You don’t have anything to do, right?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Then we’re going!”

He pulls you right past the entryway, nearly has you out the front door before you can protest. “I’m not wearing shoes, Noya! You’re not wearing shoes!”

He only laughs, only pauses, only gives you a moment. “Get them on, then.”

“And do you even have your wallet?”

He blinks and pats his pockets. “Guess not! You’ve got until I’m back with my wallet to get your shoes on and decide to let this happen!”

Decide… to let this happen?

He disappears around the corner, deeper into the house, and at last you sigh, sitting to put your shoes on properly. You doubt he’ll be quick finding his wallet—if he’s anything like you remember (and so far, he’s exactly like you remember) then he has absolutely no idea where he put it last. If you didn’t think he’d absolutely drag you out the door once it was found, you’d kick your shoes back off and help him look.

After getting your shoes on, setting his out in ideal kicking-feet-into-without-stopping position, and five minutes of listening to him rustle about the house, you glance at a table in the entryway and smile at the sight of a plain black wallet in the dish. You inspect it, just in case it’s not his—there’s been no sign of Noya’s grandfather around, but almost nothing’s changed, so he probably still lives here. Better to check.

You open it, just to see that it’s got his ID in there and not someone else’s, and nearly slam it closed again immediately.

Yeah, it’s his missing wallet. ID and everything. And, in the little photo slot, a six-year-old photo of him in his volleyball jersey, million-volt smile on his face as you push him away with your own brilliant smile. He’d just won a game, and you’d been busy trying to get him, gross and sweaty, to stop getting all that gross and sweaty on you even as you laughed the entire time. Tanaka took the picture, you think—there’s a bit of thumb in the bottom right corner.

Noya keeps a photo of the two of you in his wallet. After six years without talking.

A noise bangs from somewhere else in the house, and you close the wallet and force down the warmth welling in your chest and rushing to your face. “All good?” you call out.

“I can’t find my stupid wallet!” he shouts back a moment later. He sounds a bit frustrated. “This isn’t going to work if I spend the whole day trying to—“

“Nishinoya,” you cut him off, half sing-song, “you left it by the door.”

No reply except the thudding of feet as he runs right up to you and plucks it from your hand. “There it is! I found it!”

“Oh, really? You found it?”

“Yep! Are your shoes on? We gotta go now!”

“Go where? You���re in an awful rush. Do you have plans or something?”

He kicks his shoes on and grabs your wrist again. “Nope! You’re gonna love it!”

~

Really a type of plankton, jellyfish possess extremely limited swimming abilities, if any at all, and rely on the currents to control their horizontal movements through the sea.

It occurs to you, as you make the trek to the bus stop, that you didn’t have to say yes to this. Well, really, it’s not like you said yes so much as didn’t say otherwise, and Noya, ever the trail-blazer, pulled you along for the ride. What’s even the difference in what you’re doing now and what you’ve been doing these past six years?

You barely make the bus. Nishinoya pays the fare for both of you, before you can protest, and when there’s only one open seat, he takes it.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you snort.

He responds by tugging you down into his lap. “I am!”

You’re stronger than you were in high school. Really, you are. You don’t collapse into emotions like embarrassment. You don’t let the sensation of being flustered consume you. You do not.

…you bury your face in your hands. “What are we doing right now?”

Always laughing. Always lighthearted. “What do you mean? We’re taking the bus someplace we can find some restaurants.”

“You know exactly what I mean!”

The bus passes over a bump, and he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. “You know, you’ve barely changed at all.”

“Neither have you,” you fire back. You meant it as an accusation, but the words come out tender. “You’re still a complete hurricane.”

He laughs, his own tenderness bleeding through. “And you’re still not letting yourself have anything you want.”

“When have I ever—“

“I think you know.” His other arm comes around your waist, holding you in a loose hug, chin resting against your arm.

You try not to stiffen at all the contact. This, too, is something you haven’t felt in ages—simple, casual touch. He had always been that way, resting a hand on your shoulder, your back, running fingers through the ends of your hair, like if he stopped touching you, you’d run away.

Maybe he was right. Maybe he is right.

“You didn’t answer me before. Are you still writing? I’ve been keeping an eye out for your name on the shelves, you know.”

You rest a hand on his arm, half considering pushing his arm off. The bus stops, but apparently not at a stop Noya is interested in dragging you off at—he steadies you as the bus jolts, and as a few passengers file off, you consider admitting the answer.

“Poetry these days, mostly. It’s not like I’d ever get published if I went for it, so I just scribble out a few half-assed lines and—“

“See, stop that. That’s half your problem right there, you know!”

“Another seat just opened up, you know,” you mumble. If you try to fight him on this, he’ll end up talking you into these grand ideas that you’ll never be able to accomplish, and by the end of the day he’ll probably have you in love with him all over again, even though you know it would never work, even though you know you’d never really be anything—as an employee, as a person, as his. “We don’t have to do this… couple-y thing.”

“I want to, though. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

…it is. It really is.

“…I still like to write, but I never have time anymore. It’s work, recovering from work, getting ready for work, waiting to come home from work so I can prep lunches and wash my clothes so I have something to eat and wear at work. I don’t have energy for anything except meetings, emails, and phone calls where no one means anything they say.”

“Damn. No wonder you seem so lost. Why don’t you quit?”

“And do what? It’s not like I have a dream job. I just want to get by and survive—“

“Why? You’re not happy. Don’t you want to do something more than survive?”

“I don’t even know what that would look like, Noya.”

He says everything so simply. Just quit. Just move on. Just move forward. He’s lucky, you think. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have parents planning out your entire life for you.

…okay, that was mean. Add that to the list of things that are wrong with you.

He sighs, shaking you gently in his hold. “It’s worse than I thought. Hey, [name], why’d you come here?”

“I told you already. I have no idea.”

“Alright. Adding it to the list. Today, you’re experiencing adventure for the first time in six years, and you’re gonna figure out what you were doing standing outside my house at noon on a Saturday. If I have my way, you’re also going to be quitting your job and starting a promising career as the greatest writer Japan’s ever seen, renowned the world over, but we can get to that some other time if you want!”

“Noya, I’m not—“ Your words die in your throat as his fingers slide between yours. You hadn’t realized your hand was sliding up his arm, but here he is, holding hands with you like it’s nothing.

God. How old are you, again?

~

Lunch ends up being crepes. Never mind the fact that crepes are not a meal, not even when Noya suggests buying two each—he proudly declares it lunch, and so lunch it must be. You’re lucky that he graciously allowed you to get a table, though he’d insisted on grabbing one outside even as the sky above has started to loom with rainclouds.

“And what’ll we do if it rains?” you retort drily as he sits across from you.

“We’ll figure it out,” he grins, sliding you a menu. “Dry off after we get rained on, not before.”

You snort. “How about we just try not to get rained on?”

“Then we would be sitting inside, and you wouldn’t get to look up at the clouds while we eat! You always liked the way the sky looked before it rained, right?”

A soft huff leaves you, a small smile unbidden. “You actually remember that? I think I said that to you, like, one time.”

He nods. “Only had to say it once! Besides, I caught you staring up at the sky in the rain more than once.”

“And yet, I had to repeat the same information for you so many times, only for you to still get it wrong on test day…”

“Hey! I was distracted!”

“You weren’t supposed to be,” you tease.

“What was I supposed to do? There was this gorgeous person sitting across from me telling me all these complicated things in a nice voice. I’m a simple man!”

Though your cheeks heat at the declaration, you can’t help but laugh. “Clearly.”

“Yeah. Clearly.” For just a moment, he’s soft, unbearably soft, and you fear looking at him. Quick, change the subject before you have to acknowledge whatever’s going on here!

“S-so!” Smooth! You’re doing great, sweetie! “Any idea what you’re going to get?”

He slaps a finger down on the menu without looking. “A… monte… monte…”

You sigh and peer over to look at the fanciful English he’s pointing to. “A Monte Cristo crepe?”

“Yeah!”

“Did you read the part where it’s got onions as a main ingredient? Don’t you hate onions?”

He wrinkles his nose, but stands firm. “I’m sure!”

You huff softly. “Alright. Far be it from me to stop you.”

“What about you? Make a pros and cons list for each menu item yet?” he teases.

“For your information, I don’t have to do that when ordering in restaurants. That’s for big decisions. But…” You sigh. “I haven’t eaten out in a while. It stresses me out.”

“Why?”

“So let’s say I pick something that looks good, and it sucks. I won’t eat it because it sucks, but then I feel like I’ve insulted the chef and wasted my time and money.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. But at least you’ll know! When’s the last time you actually ate out like this?”

You bite your lip thoughtfully. When was it?

“I… think I did a celebration dinner with my parents when I graduated?”

“College?”

“No, high school. We didn’t celebrate when I graduated college.”

Once again, he’s staring at you in blank disbelief. “[name], that was six years ago.”

You flush. “Yeah, so?”

“That’s so sad. What have you been doing? I’m about to take you on a food tour just so you can catch up on all the restaurants you’ve been missing.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Please, no. I can’t eat that much.”

“Then we’ll spread it out!”

“Noya…”

The waiter drops in at exactly the wrong time. Flustered, you stumble your way into lemonade for you, apple cider for him, and then, as he’s confidently mispronouncing “Monte Cristo” to the waiter, you panic and end up ordering some curry crepe, a concept which intrigues and horrifies you.

“How’d you even find this place? Seems weird for there to be some half-French, half-English upscale crepe restaurant out in Miyagi.”

“What do you mean, how did I find it? We found it together. I’ve never eaten here.”

Right. He’s completely winging everything. “Amazing.”

“Right?”

Drinks come, and you sigh into a masterful lemonade and try to think of things to say to fill the space between you and your ex. (You have to try not to forget that bit—that this isn’t natural, that this can’t lead anywhere. For your sake and his.) “So, how’s your grandfather been?”

The easy smile on Noya’s lips drops. “Oh. He died late last year. Age caught up to him, I guess.”

Oh. Fuck. “Noya, I’m so…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. Crazy bastard had a hell of a time of it. He’d hate for me to sit around feeling bad about it, anyway.”

He wouldn’t want you to pity him. Doesn’t want you to pity him. You know that. But…

Did Noya ever talk about any other family members when you knew him? You know he lived in that house with his grandfather. No siblings. Never mentioned any cousins. You know he didn’t grow up around his parents, either…

Has he been alone this whole time?

You reach across the table. Place a hand on his. “Maybe I’ll visit more often.”

In silence, the two of you sit and wait for your crepes.

~

The crepes come out, and with them, new points of conversation that carry you both to finishing—all the way until Noya manages to argue you into letting him pay. He pulls you along, a bit slower than before, a bit easier. You can’t help but let him take your hand and bring you wherever the wind is leading him, half-pitying him and half from the complete lack of will to fight him all day.

“I told you you weren’t gonna like what you ended up ordering.”

“You liked it though, right?”

Predictably, he’d taken one bite of the crepe and instantly realized his mistake. Far too much onions for his tastes. Your curry crepe had been… well…

Let’s just say that you weren’t especially upset when Noya asked you to swap.

“It was really good, if you like onions.”

“I know what I like! Onions aren’t it!”

It’s easy like this, and the day really is nice. There’s rain on the breeze and in the clouds, a pleasant scent and a comforting gloom over the day. You tease and joke back and forth, hand in hand like it’s natural, and it is. It’s easy, being around him. It was easy back then, too. So easy it scares you.

You’re just waiting for the bottom to fall out.

You’re waiting for the bottom to fall out, and it does—with a shriek and loud laughter, rain chases the both of you underneath a tree and within sight of the nearest bus stop, soaking you both through to the bone.

“See?” Noya says, grinning as he pulls you a little closer underneath the tree. “Now we can worry about getting dry.”

“You’re unbelievable,” said with a smile. “What is all this meant to prove again?”

“Well, why’d you come here?”

“Here? You dragged me out here.”

“Yeah, but why’d you come back to Miyagi? I’m just saying, my doorstep is not the first place I expected you to turn up on when the inevitable nervous breakdown hit.”

You fall silent, shiver in the rain. It’s peaceful. You try to focus on watching for a bus, anything except the question you were asked.

“[name].”

You glance at him, yelp a little to find how close the two of you have gotten. This close, in this kind of situation, it’d be only natural for you to lean in, for you to brush your lips against his.

God, have you even kissed anyone since you burned everything down?

You’re not doing this. You’re not falling into a hurricane like him again. You won’t be able to come back if you do that. (Especially with such a fucking cliché.)

You turn away. “You already asked me that. I told you before, I don’t know.”

He hums thoughtfully. Drapes his jacket over both of your heads in an attempt to keep you both from looking any more rained out than you already do.

“I’m just saying, if you want my opinion, you’re going to have to do a lot more adventuring and a lot less sales for a company you hate if you want to remember what ‘happy’ is supposed to feel like.”

“Not sure I ever knew what that was like to begin with.”

“Never?”

“When I was a kid, maybe.”

He tilts his head. “Not even when we dated? Is that why you broke up with me?” He sounds genuinely curious. Would it feel better, you wonder, if he sounded hurt?

You wince. “I didn’t mean… I just…” A sigh. “It’s more like, I was too afraid to let myself be happy when I was with you.” In the close proximity, you find it easier to let your head rest against him a little. “Please don’t misunderstand. I like you. I probably would have been really happy with you if there weren’t something fundamentally wrong with me as a person.” Shit. You definitely misspoke there.

“I don’t really know how to teach you to relax a little, but it’s gotta be easier now that you’re out of your parents’ house. Maybe you need to go somewhere completely new. Get a fresh outlook.”

You arch a brow his way. At least he’s not commenting on your slip of the tongue. “What are you suggesting, Nishinoya?”

“I’m leaving for Italy. Six weeks. That’s enough time for you to plan your little heart out, right?”

“Italy.”

He nods, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Italy.”

“And if I came back after six years to kill you or something?”

He barks a laugh, stark against the pouring rain. His eyes linger on you. The part of you that’s charitable to yourself thinks he might be mentally undressing the clothes sticking to your skin, though you know it’s more of a challenging look. “I’d like to see you try.”

~

One soaking wet bus ride back to Noya’s house doesn’t save you from this little adventure plan of his. Instead, you’re given a towel or two to dry off with and a change of clothes from his closet, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. The way he acts, everything is.

So now here you are, wearing a shirt far too large for you that you’ve wrestled into looking somewhat nice with Nishinoya’s jeans. It slides off your shoulder a bit no matter how many times you fix it. You admit, you do manage to pull it off, but the whirlwind of the day still has your head spinning with just how wrong this situation is.

You’re supposed to be at work right now. You should be in office clothes, sitting at a desk in a too-cold cubicle that you never got around to decorating, perfect and polished while you tap out yet another perfectly-balanced email, three-quarters professional, one-quarter gentle familiarity to lure your clients into a false sense of security. Not standing in your ex’s bathroom, tying one of his t-shirts at the waist, adjusting your hair to look closer to “decent” than “drowned rat”. This, this day, this situation, was never supposed to happen.

Is this whole day going to be a stumble? How long will it be until you catch yourself and get back to moving forward? When you do, will you still have a place at your desk?

Do you even want one?

A knock at the bathroom door. “If you give me your clothes, I’ll get them started drying,” his voice filters through the door.

All of these actions have been so easy. Your wet clothes, picked up from where they hung shower-side. Easy to wring them out a bit more to keep from making the floor worse. Easy to open the door. Easy to hand them to him.

Nothing had ever been particularly hard before him, but falling in love with him had been just like this: easy.

Maybe the first easy thing you ever remember.

~

So you go along with it. Another bus ride, this one less crowded than before. This time with umbrella in hand—just one, because of course Noya didn’t even think about it on the way out the door—and a determination to figure out what the hell you’re doing here to begin with.

Everything is as everything was, you think. Shops lining the street, one familiar sight in particular, one of two things you had never had the strength to deny yourself back in school. At the sight of the bookshop, you tug Nishinoya to a stop. You’re a little surprised when he actually does stop.

“Sorry, can we head in? I used to love this place back in school.” You nod to the bookshop. He smiles and lets you lead the way.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve done something selfish today,” he comments as you lead him in.

You refuse to meet that one with a reply.

The shop is exactly as you remember. High stacks of books, books, books everywhere. The scent of old books and a slight spice in the air, scents blending and mixing until, for just a moment, you’re in high school again, marveling at rare finds coming through the used books section and finding some new world to escape into.

You sigh into the scent and disappear into the stacks. Noya is kind enough to humor you as you pick through, find a title or two to take up to the register. If you really do come back to visit from time to time, you’ll have to make sure to stop in here when you do. The old woman at the register hasn’t aged a day. She smiles when she sees you the same way you’re smiling as you approach her.

“Is that little [name]?” she asks, though you both know she already knows the answer. “Why, I haven’t seen you around here in ages! You’ve grown so well!”

“It’s wonderful to see you again, ma’am.”

“Just as polite as you always were. Find everything you were looking for?”

She’s got a poster on the counter by the register. You steal a glance, then meet her eyes with a smile. “Sure did! I’m glad to see you guys are still here.”

Her smile turns bitter. “I’m not sure how much longer, I’m afraid.”

Ah. There’s the heartbreak, panic, fear. “What?”

“It can’t be helped. It’s getting difficult to watch this place in my age, and my Taka’s not been doing so well lately. The kids are all off worrying about their own lives now…”

Your chest twists at the thought. “Can’t you find help?”

“We’ve been looking, but…”

It cannot possibly be this easy.

There’s no way.

“But…”

Noya slides a few bills over the counter while you’re busy fighting a war in your head.

“Oh, and who’s this? You’ve got to introduce your boyfriend, dear.”

“Oh, he’s not—“

“It’s nice to meet you, Granny! I’m Nishinoya.”

Already, they’re spiraling off into some side conversation, too fast for you to make the obvious correction as the old lady makes your—Noya’s—change. She tucks a little bookmark into the front of the stack, and you slide your new books into your bag in resignation. It becomes his space as easily as it was yours, and somehow, it doesn’t feel wrong.

After you’ve left, you consider clearing the air, bringing up… whatever that was.

…it’s not worth the argument.

Another few shops, another few stops. Another few steps forward, another few hours, and yet again you’re sitting across from him, fretting over being underdressed at the restaurant you’ve both happened across and settled on.

“Are you sure we’re dressed alright?” you mutter.

“They let us in the door, didn’t they?”

…yeah, you don’t know what you expected him to say.

“Besides, you look great,” he adds. His eyes dance over you, over the bare skin on your shoulder where you’ve finally given up on pulling the neck of his shirt back up. “I think you wear that better than I ever have.”

You ignore him in favor of another menu, another decision to make that feels earth-shattering. At least you’re aware you’re being ridiculous when it comes to ordering. Really, what’s going to change if you get the fun-looking drink you might not like over the safe one? How bad would it really be if you didn’t like your meal that much?

Drinking too much. Discovering a new allergy. Food poisoning—

“You’re overthinking again,” he teases.

“I’m always overthinking,” you grumble.

“Maybe you need to take the edge off.”

He’s right, and you know that in theory. But in the practice and the day-to-day, you stare at the drinks menu and feel your chest constrict with that itch of anxiety all over again.

“You’ve just got to jump in before you can talk yourself out of it. Come on, [name], let me distract you a little.”

…you don’t think he’s trying to flirt, but your face feels hot all the same. And, well, shit, Noya is a great distraction. He’s a bit less keyed-up than he was back then, but he’s still endlessly charming, endlessly easy to get wrapped up in if you lower your guard even a moment.

“…fine. So what’s this you were saying earlier about Italy?”

His eyes light up. You rest your chin in your palm, glance over the menu again as he tells you about his dreams of traveling the world, how he wants to seek new thrills and see all these new things. You can see every potential disaster of the situation—for one, he has a house back home that someone’s going to need to care for while he’s away, and he doesn’t seem to have thought of that. For another, he’s got an inheritance and no passive income to work with. His grandfather’s leftover money may be substantial enough for this to work in the short term, but longer-term…

Well, one day, he’s going to run headfirst into a hole he can’t climb out of himself.

The thought scares you. Who’s going to be there for him when that happens?

The waiter stops by. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you pick out something alcoholic and fruity and try not to preen under Noya’s delighted approval.

“I’ve never seen you drunk before. Looking forward to it,” he grins. This time, you’re sure he means it flirtatiously, given the wicked gleam in his eyes.

You reach across the table to bat at his arm. “Keep looking, then. I don’t plan on getting drunk tonight. Just buzzed enough to put up with you.”

“Well, that’s no fun. I wanted to know what you’re like when you finally let loose.”

“Excuse you, I can be plenty fun without getting drunk off my ass.”

“Then let’s see it.”

Drinks come out, food orders are placed. You get your margarita halfway down before the buzz starts really setting in, a pleasant warmth blossoming through you. At least now when Noya makes your face hot with some offhanded comment, you can blame it on something other than your own weak heart.

“You know, this is the most adventurous thing I’ve done since I dated you,” you admit once you’re both walking back to the bus stop. Fully sober you would never have this conversation. You recognize that, but there’s enough pleasant fuzz in your head that for once you do not give nearly enough of a fuck to stop yourself. The night is warm, maybe even romantic. “This whole… running around, stopping at random restaurants, getting drenched in the rain without an umbrella. All that.”

He’s got this soft look in his eyes as he regards you. “Really? I can’t say I’m surprised. You were always worrying about everything.”

You snort. “Someone had to.”

“We were kids, though. You probably could have left at least some of that worrying to your parents.”

“Believe it or not, they gave nearly all of that worry to me. On purpose, I think.” You sigh, lean against him just a touch. Your balance never was all that great sober. “I had to be perfect. You were that one little blip.”

“Hey, it felt perfect to me.”

“Did I make a mistake, do you think?”

He looks a little wounded at that. To your credit, he’s definitely misinterpreting. “Dating me?”

“No. Leaving you.”

He pauses, an awkward motion that has you both stumbling just a bit. He’d drank over dinner, too—you’re both buzzed, and the bubbly, floaty feeling ebbs out as you stare at each other. “Why do you say that?”

“I just… I thought about it a lot,” you mumble. “What it would have been like. If I’d just stayed, instead of letting the thought of my parents scare me into running away.”

He huffs a soft laugh and winds his arm around your shoulder. “I thought about it, too. Come on. You don’t need to make it back to the hotel alone; I’ve got a guest bedroom you can use tonight. That, and I’ve still got your clothes.”

Oh. Right.

You nod and let him walk you back to his home.

~

“Have you figured anything out yet?” he asks as he finds another oversized t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts for you to sleep in. “Gotten even a little closer to figuring out how to do something you actually feel like doing?”

“I had fun,” you mumble in reply. “I know that much, at least.”

“Good. That was mostly the point.” He hands the clothes over to you. They’re more neatly folded than you would have given him credit for.

“Mostly?”

“Well,” he grins, “I also wanted to spend the day with you. Didn’t figure you’d ever agree if I didn’t drag you out before you could think about it too hard.”

“It was nice,” you admit. “Thank you. For all of it. I… I still don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow, though.”

“Is it so bad listening to what you feel like doing every once in a while, though?”

“If I knew what I felt like doing, maybe.” You linger awkwardly in his doorway, bounce your shoulder rhythmically against the frame. “You’ve got your work cut out for you if you think one day is gonna get me that in tune with my brain.”

“That’s why I asked you to come to Italy with me.” He tilts his head, some question lingering unspoken. “Try it now, though. What does [name] feel like doing right now?”

He’s close to you. Too close. He’s close, and pretty, and magnetic, and—

“[name] feels like doing something stupid.”

His grin widens. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Nishinoya Yuu, and I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I am pretty damn stupid.”

—fuck it. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it.

He reciprocates in kind, an eager hand coming to settle on your waist like it’s been waiting to rest there all night. You kiss him hot, heavy, open-mouthed; let your hands slide from gripping his collar to locking loosely behind his neck. When you’re both out of breath, he pulls back and leans in to whisper into your neck:

“Why did you come here, [name]?”

It’s hard to think with his breath on your neck, his hands on your body leaving your skin on fire where he touches, but you are great at thinking and finally off the deep end enough to admit it.

“I wanted to remember what it was like to feel alive,” you breathe out into his ear. His lips brush your throat, and you let out a breathy whine. “You’re the only person who ever—who ever seemed to know how to do that.”

“Let me show you how to let go, then.”

There’s no illusions about what he means. Not this time, not with his lips dancing down your neck to your exposed shoulder. Not with his hips pressing into yours, not with his fingertips toying with the edge of his shirt you’re wearing, and not with his fingertips brushing the bare skin at your waist.

You nod and hope you won’t regret it.

~

If there’s regret to be had, you expect you’ll see it in the light of morning. As it is, Noya returns from the bathroom and collapses right onto you, a lithe arm pulling you into his chest.

“I’m glad you came back,” he mumbles into your hair. You’re both tired—it’s late, and that might have been the best workout you’ve gotten in a while.

“Because you missed me, or because you got to fuck me?” you tease, sliding a hand over his.

“I missed you,” he replies without missing a beat. “Not too late to come travel the world with me. Quit your job and feel peace for once in your life.”

“Peace? With you around? Not likely. Besides, I’m renting a place in Tokyo. I can’t meet rent if I quit my job.”

He laughs and pulls you in a little closer. “Then just Italy, and you can go back to the way you felt before you turned up on my doorstep looking more lost than I’ve ever seen anyone in my life.”

You sigh. “When you’re traveling the world, who’s gonna take care of your house? It doesn’t seem like you’re selling it, are you?”

“Italy, come home, we’ll break in the place, and then I’ll come home to you between trips while you work on writing an international bestseller.”

Your heart flutters at the thought. Admittedly… it’d solve a lot of the problems you have with his little “plan”.

“And how do you suppose I pay for being alive aside from not having rent?”

“Ask that old lady at the bookshop if you can help at the store.”

“Why do you have an answer for everything?”

“It’s okay if things fall into place once in a while, you know.”

You sigh into him. There’s too many unknowns. How is he going to keep paying for traveling? What if the book never works out? If there’s no space for you at the bookshop? If—

He nuzzles into your neck. “I’m waiting on an answer, baby…”

“It’s late, Noya. I’ll think about it.”

“Do me a favor and think yourself into something for once, instead of out of it. I might die if you leave again.”

He presses one last kiss into the back of your neck before you both draft off, sore and exhausted.

There’s one thing, at least, you can be sure of, at least for tonight: you’re glad you came here.

~

Epilogue

“You’re looking much better,” your coworker nods to you as you settle back into your desk. “Get some much-needed rest?”

You nod your reply. “I did, thanks. Sorry for disappearing so suddenly. That cold was killer. Think I slept about fourteen hours straight.”

She snorts. “Man, no wonder you weren’t answering your phone. Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She wanders off to her own desk. You take a long sip of your drink, stretch a bit, and get right to your stupid little emails.

You tap away, pausing between sentences to consider, to answer the phone, to sip your drink. Occasionally, to tab over to some other draft when you worry a passing coworker might see exactly what you’re writing. At one or two points, over to your web browser, either to the wikiHow article you’re referencing, or to one of the many other tabs: your online banking, to confirm that this isn’t going to completely kill you (it won’t—all work and no play gives Jack a hefty savings account), or to any number of other wonderful things on the Internet that you suddenly feel comfortable accessing with the letter you’re drafting in the background.

It takes an hour to settle. The letter is drafted, all the right people are copied. You’ve triple checked everything, gotten all your things already slid into your bag or in a box to carry out with you. Made sure everything you need to leave behind is in clear view on your desk. You’ve even prepped an auto-response on your email client so people know who to bother, if not you. It’d take three, maybe four clicks to blow up your life.

You can’t do it.

You reach for your cell and dial.

Noya, despite all that worries you about him, has always been an early riser. He picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Distract me,” you order in lieu of a greeting.

You hear laughter, a slight shuffle. “From what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just distract me.”

“Ah, you’re doing something you don’t want to talk yourself out of. I’m proud of you!” You hear the smile in his voice, close your eyes to try to visualize it. “Am I allowed to ask what you’re up to? Where you are?”

“No and no. If I tell you, I’ll back out by the time I finish saying it.”

“I get it. Hey, do you still have that mark on your neck from when I—“

Your cheeks burn, fingers dancing along the bruise in question. It had been a bitch to cover with makeup this morning. You’re still not convinced you did so successfully, but no one’s commented on it yet, at least. “No thanks to a certain someone. I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Hey, you said you felt like doing something stupid. Who was I to deny you?”

“Cheeky bastard.” You smile, lean back in your chair a little bit. Click ‘send’. “Oh god. I did it.”

“Am I allowed to ask what you did now?”

“I might throw up. Not sure yet. Hey, how do you feel about renting bikes?”

“Bikes?”

“In Italy. I was looking up, like, bucket lists and stuff, and there’s this road, the Appian way? You can rent bikes and bike it. Apparently, it’s pretty old, and there’s this café we could eat at, and—“

You hear the thunk of something falling in the background of the call. “You’re coming!?”

“Well, I just emailed my resignation letter to my boss and HR, and I can see him panicking in his office from here, so you better have meant it. Here in a minute or two, he’s probably going to call me in, or come yell at me at my desk—“

“When’s your resignation effective? Did you give a notice?”

“Effective as soon as he stops panicking.”

A bark of laughter sounds in your ear. “So if he comes to yell at you, just leave. You already quit, anyway. What’s he gonna do?”

“Good point. Leaving now.” You stand, scoop up your bag. “I have two months left on my lease. If you didn’t mean that thing about me housesitting while you’re off seeing the world, speak now before I call my landlord and let him know I’m canceling that, too.”

“All yours, but your rent is walking around without pants whenever I’m home.”

You roll your eyes. Pause to wave at your boss on your way out the door. If he shouts after you, you don’t hear it. You’ve got a trip to Italy to plan.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.). If your name appears on this list but is not underlined and you didn't get a notification, please check to make sure that your blog is NOT set to not appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got that set that way for a particular reason, consider subscribing to the fic on ao3 for an equivalent update notification, as I always crosspost simultaneously! After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the list.

As always, thanks for reading! <3

[rubykgrant]

It has been 3 years since I had the weird rush of motivation that makes me want to scribble out something FAST, so- WOE, bad MS Paint Comic Be Upon Ye! (I don't have time to draw it good, it just needs to get out of my brain)

I've been rotating thoughts of my RVB story-line, trying to adjust and re-work how certain things happen... I think I've finally got a few things sorted out, and one thing that hit right was my OC Poppy's intro to the characters. She's always been meant to be the new Red Team member (and with white armor, they finally fulfill the prophecy of being the lesbian flag~), but I wanted to make sure she has different interactions with all the others as well. I didn't really have a plan for hos she meets most of the Blues... but as I change the order of other events, it actually worked out for her to meet Tucker first. She's still part of the group of people Sarge has been asked to train (which leads him to finally have a "The military... is actually... BAD" moment. it took him a while, but he got there), but now I've got a scenario in which Sarge tries to get some of the former Freelancers to come by, give people a training session. Wash and Carolina were busy, but hey! Here's Tucker! He knows how to fight like a Freelancer, this is fine. He arrives outside of the main area... and promptly falls down a hill, face-planting in the dirt. Poppy was nearby, so she rushes over to help him up. She doesn't know that THIS is the guy here for the special training, and just talks to him in a friendly, casual way. As much as Tucker likes to show off, he also kind of likes just being able to... have a chill conversation with somebody. When Poppy introduces herself with her first name, he has a brief mental hiccup, because he almost forgot how it works when you meet people and don't care about ranks, or military protocol, or whatever (and he also realizes that she doesn't recognize him for his reputation, he doesn't have the chance to get to know somebody like this very often). So he hesitates a moment before he answers with his first name, Lavernius~

Text reads-

Tucker; OOOF!

Poppy; Woah, dude! You OK?

Tucker; Yeah... fine... just bruised my ego...

Poppy; Here, I'll help you up

Tucker; Thanks

Poppy; Man, you fell, like- ALL the way down the hill. I kept thinking, he'll probably catch himself, but. Nope. You just kept going!

Tucker; It definitely... wasn't the impressive entrance I was hoping to make

Poppy; Don't worry, I don't think anybody else saw. They're all waiting around for that soldier Sarge called in for the "special training". I was only over here to pretend to do vehicle maintenance- I really just wanted to cruise around. My name's Poppy!

Tucker; I'm- Lvaernius

[poohsources]

HELLO EVERYONE! as the year is slowly but surely coming to its end, and i'm now home for the holidays, i thought it was finally time to make another one of these. partially to give a little update on what's been going on in my life and partially as some sort of retrospect for this past year and a look into my plans for next year.

looking back, it's been quite an eventful year — especially when compared to the weird covid years we had to deal with previously. the biggest change was probably my dropping out of college to start a dual studies program in law. i did like my college program just fine ( until i didn't anymore ) but i really feel like law is my thing. and apparently everyone else in my circle of family and friends thinks so as well because i seem a hell of a lot happier than i did before. kinda unfortunate it took me seven years since quitting high school to figure that bit out, but hey, at least i got there in the end. it's been quite time-consuming, and i feel like in those past five months, i've already learned more than i did in all my years of college, but it's fun. i also finally got some new friends my age again. it's also strange to think back that just one year ago i was still struggling financially and just generally dealing with some bad mental health stuff.

i'm actually happy now.

in terms of tumblr and roleplaying, i gotta be honest that i have been sidelining it a lot over the last months. sure, i'm still around but it's not my primary focus, and i'm learning that it's okay not to be online all the time. it's okay to take breaks and focus on other things because as much as i love this blog, the community and tumblr, there are some more important things now. still, i am and always will be eternally grateful to every single person who supports me - whether it is by liking or reblogging posts, sending asks or messages, following me or using any of my stuff. it means so freaking much to me, and i always feel so proud whenever i randomly see my own stuff pop up on my dash because mutuals use it. thank you all so very much! in a similar vein, i honestly still cannot fathom that i almost managed to double the follower count this past year. i'm probably not gonna reach the goal i've kinda been looking at until the end of the year but that's okay. i am so incredibly grateful for everyone here anyway. no matter what.

as for next year - i'm not too sure what i'm gonna do. of course. i'm gonna keep posting memes, and templates and whatever other stuff i feel like doing, but i think my activity is gonna keep on being spotty. i'm also still tempted to do commissions one day ( and we're totally gonna ignore that i've been saying this for over a year now, okay? ) but with the amount of time i don't have, i'm not sure i'm gonna be able to deliver on that. if i do finally build the courage and self-esteem to do that, it will be like an occasional thing that might take some time. however, one thing i do wanna do more of is gifs. i'm not sure what kind of gifs, but i enjoy making them and it's been way too long since i did them so i'm gonna see how i'm gonna incorporate that. or if anyone has any specific gifs they want, always feel free to shoot me an ask or a message. maybe also some aesthetic-y stuff? after all do love making pinterest boards for characters.

maybe i'll also do a blog reveal once i finally set up my multi that i've been planning to work on for months now. since i'm gonna scrap my current main blog ( which i haven't really been active on in a while now anyway ) i'm kinda thinking of coming back to writing and who knows, maybe i'm gonna reveal it here in case anyone would like to write with me.

anyway, this was a lot of rambling, and if you've made it this far, i once again wanna thank you. i know i do this a lot but i really do appreciate you all being here so much, and even after two years of having this silly little blog, it still feels unreal to me that so many people here enjoy what i do.

much love and happy holidays, pooh 🧡

[chrysanthemumgames]

i've been having an itch to write an if game, do you have any tips? i feel like its a very bad idea to jump straight in head first yk?

Honestly, anon, that very much depends on the type of writer you are. I know people who do everything they do by the seat of their pants. The upside is, they can get into it really quickly. The downside is, sometimes you hit a wall and have to figure your way past it, which can be a struggle, and is where a lot of people who take that approach give up and leave their story incomplete. (Of course, hitting a wall can happen to anyone, but it's more likely to happen to pantsers, the delightful 'technical term' for such a style of writing.)

Then there are planners, who write outlines, and sometimes character sheets and do at least some worldbuilding on the side and generally have things much more set up and laid out in advance before they go. Upside to this is, well, a lot of the work is actually already done. Downside is... in my experience I've found that if I plan too much, the actual writing can feel a bit more like a chore, or I end up wanting to change things, or I've dithered too much time on worldbuilding and now I just kind of want to think about something else.

For me, personally, the right balance is to begin with a basic sense of what happens in the story; at least a couple-sentence summary for each chapter, so I know what events need to be covered. Then, as I go, I begin by outlining the chapter with its code (though this sometimes leaves big gaps like [they talk about dream stuff here]), and then go through and fill that in from beginning to end. This allows the particulars of character interaction and even how things happen to still surprise me a bit, which makes it much more fun for me.

What works for you probably won't be exactly the same as what works for me. If you have previous writing experience, definitely draw on that to inform your approach. Remember that an IF is a long term project, and that there just will be times when you're not excited to write. And, to say something perhaps a little controversial: if what you want to do is write an IF, you don't have to write at those times. If what you want is to write and finish and publish an IF... you probably do. It is very, very hard to come back to a project after a 'hiatus,' and I say this as someone who has actually done so, though the thing was never on hiatus in my head, just in terms of physically getting written.

That's the project I've been working on since... I dunno, 2016 or something. FoA, where I have not allowed myself to stop, even if my daily progress is almost nothing, is the same amount of words and I've been writing it for two and a half years.

Of course, all this is just my experience. I'm sure you'd get as many different answers about that as people you could ask. Either way, it's a pretty big commitment, and if you're new to writing or have to learn code simultaneously or just aren't sure you're going to like it, I'd try a small project first if you can, just to give yourself a feel for it.

I'm... actually not sure if you meant this sort of tip or something more to do with characters or story, so I took a guess. If I'm wrong, please let me know; I'm sure I can talk way too much about that stuff also.

Of course, what it ultimately comes down to is this: do you want to write an IF game? If you do, write it. If you don't, no harm no foul! Not every project needs to be completed or even shared. If it's a story you want to write, then you absolutely should. Writing, as an activity, is good for the soul, and I firmly believe that.

[tobiasdrake]

Nearing the end of the first game. Let's see. Who haven't I talked about?

I guess now's a good time to talk about Mukuro Ikusaba.

Mukuro Ikusaba. The 16th student, lying hidden somewhere in this school. The one they call the Ultimate Despair. Watch out for her.

Despite how little time we got with her, Mukuro was my favorite character in Danganronpa 1. She's the character I was actually vibing with when I thought I was vibing with Junko. And I still adore Junko in that "She's great and awesome and hilarious, I hope they beat her to death with bricks," sort of way. Very good villain, top marks.

But I also still adore Mukuro too. Mukuro has a wealth of personality and conflict and story tied up in that itsy-bitsy span of time we actually get to spend with her. Every character has some kind of hidden depths that come out as you talk to them, and Mukuro's blew me away.

When I think of Mukuro, I think of this:

"Dreams are meant to change as you grow up, right? Depending on where you're at—kindergarten, elementary school, junior high, high school... But I've had the same dream since I was a little kid, and I've been rushing toward it ever since. So I've never really had to think all that hard about my dreams.

But if it doesn't change, your possibilities can't grow, right? That's how new opportunities are born. And up until now, I never did that. I never let my dreams grow. All I saw was that one dream. I put everything I had into that one narrow little world. I feel like there's so much more I could be doing that I'm not, and I don't like that feeling. So I think I'm going to start looking for it.

Is it childish of me to think like that? Am I just being a baby?"

This, I'm tapping my finger, THIS is Mukuro Ikusaba. The 16th student lying hidden-- This is who she is in her heart of hearts, laid bare and exposed. She's talking in vagueries to avoid revealing herself, but she's very clearly talking about Ultimate Despair and expressing her feelings on the plan that she and her sister are carrying out.

She's standing here in Junko guise, in the middle of the Killing Game, wondering aloud if this is all kinda stupid and maybe she could be doing something better with her life. She and Junko planned this for years and now that it's here, she feels unsatisfied. Stagnant.

This turmoil boiling inside of Mukuro is the most fascinating piece of background information we ever get about any character through Free-Time Events. It's a genuine tragedy that Junko gets her before she can fully process it, strangling what could have been the most complex and interesting character dynamic in its crib.

And it's a further tragedy what future entries into the Danganronpa series did to this character, ripping out every last interesting thing about her and reducing her Junko's weird twincest pet. Gross.

Except you, Danganronpa IF. You're pretty cool.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

jigsaw voice hi hi hello nyla...i'm here to play a game...THE SELFSHIP ASK GAME!!!!!!! for my darling sea otters might i ask:

👯, 📝,💞,💌, and 👀(pretty please <33)

bestie hash, the final boss of sea otters shippers gracing me with their presence in my ask box uwu we love to see it

👯: What canon character are you most similar to?

i think a lot of people would draw superficial comparisons to perona since our devil fruit abilities would have some overlap with my seeing ghosts and her eating the ghost ghost fruit. i can see comparisons to rouge happening as well! and maybe a dab of parallel comparisons to nami, robin or vivi

and i'm only putting garp here not because we are similar but because we're basically narrative foils to one another so he'd be brought up a lot in discussions about me i think

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story?

the biggest one has to do with my insertion into the blackbeard stealing the dark dark fruit plotline. i always end up doing some sort of fun activity whenever we make landfall and one particular occasion i'm told by a fortuneteller i thought would only give fun little nuggets of wisdom on love or whatever says that i'm going to be betrayed by someone and a "precious flame will be extinguished"

to which i'm defensive and in denial about at first because if ace was going to die in the near future, i would definitely know thanks to the version of the faerie faerie fruit i ate but now that it is in my mind i can't really let it go and start speculating who in the crew could potentially be a traitor because where else would such a grand betrayal come from

and right when i think i was just tripping and paranoid and that fortuneteller was bunk, my 'preventable death sense' is pinged by thatch and it becomes a race against the clock to stop THAT from happening before anything can happen to ace. so with the help of wbp crew member that is a ghost still attached to the crew who has sense become suspicious of teach, when thatch finds the dark dark fruit and said ghost pal sees teach's reaction i figure i have my guy

from there i knock thatch out on the deck later that night and take the dark dark fruit for myself knowing teach will inevitably show up for it, which he ofc did before i pass the quick time event of him stabbing me in the back. we have our exchange of me putting shit together that he would kill thatch, his true plans of just wanting that fruit and weighing my options of keeping thatch alive and more importantly ace (who i realize i'm in love with during our time in wano), i relent and give blackbeard the dark dark fruit

then he leaves, although not before asking me to join his crew which i decline and i just wait on the deck for what i know will be a punishment and trial of sorts because of the events that transpired that night and i knew a lot would be stacked against me since

1) thatch is short one devil fruit, 2) i did knock thatch out, 3) i allowed teach to leave and 4) teach had been a member of the wbp for decades compared to my short couple of years

things ultimately work out there and on that end but outside of thatch's death being avoided and ace not having a reason to chase after blackbeard until we have an encounter with him where we inevitably get our asses beat and get sent to impel down (different levels though, he's in level 6)

the only real major change is ace surviving marineford because the 'preventable death' sense triggered on the battlefield when he was faced with his option of turning back to fight akainu or just leaving and he ultimately relents because in that case he knew he would die and didn't want to put me and luffy through that (.... uwu and we both happened to be behind him)

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

i answered this one here!

💌: How would your dynamic be portrayed? What might people focus on most? Any misconceptions?

i think that our dynamic would really be explored in equal parts gentility and love as worship/a choice

it's shown in present day actions and flashbacks (like the asl brothers arc) that i've always chosen to be in ace's corner - a major highlighted scene being my asking garp if he'd choose ace and luffy or the marines and his hesitance in answering as a contrast to my active decision to choose ace and luffy (and sabo when he is revealed to be alive)

and it's shown in the scenes where there isn't dialogue verbally exchanged but panels/shots of us just having silent eye contact or brief touches for comfort or reassurance. compromises of morality to ensure the safety of a loved on. the fear of losing what's behind him. little things like a casual trivia reveal or random sketch that ace knows how to handle afro hair because he learned a while ago on dawn island to help me take care of it

just stuff that a 10+ of friendship and loving each other and even viewing the world through the lens of that beloved person crafted and i feel like that's really the main thing people would like to focus on in our dynamic

and as far as misconceptions...? i'm not sure i can think of any major ones- well minus weirdos who would only focus on the aspect of our being an interracial couple

👀: How does your ship with your f/o influence both of your characterisations and the world? Would there be any interesting metas written about your dynamic?

i think entire video essays and 'tldr' length tumblr posts would be made about our dynamic as it is expanded on and explored in different ways in arcs like marineford and impel down about the stuff i mentioned above

maybe we'd get so popular there'd be an official ship day so new fans will be ??? when they see an influx of art of the two of us before going "ooooh it's sea otters/flaming pearls day" (dare i be bold enough to say a ship week???)

ace is already a gentle character in certain ways but i think viewing him through the lens of our relationship would add a certain aspect to it that in how much that can extend, verses my more sharp edges that aren't as easily seen over my more sarcastically comedic and joking nature (although the insomnia and eyebags snippets would be a hint there's more to my character than acting nonchalant)

Send in a selfship game ask!

[gr1evance]

here's a big(?) captain starburst (nicknamed starb) summary post i wanted to write up because unlike nix and the whole of grievance, i don't actually have to keep any of his stuff under wraps because if i do anything with it in the future i don't intend on keeping a lot to myself. this might be a bit all over the place since i'm not planning this out at all, but.. enjoy!

art on the right credit

captain starburst is kind of my personal modern take on the "character made in a lab to be a government weapon that escaped" trope that i indulged in a lot when i was younger. he has powers that can be very destructive, and he ended up exploding when he was made and taking the whole building with him. he's from a shared superhero universe with friends, so when he was first getting a grasp on the world he immediately dedicated himself to heroism and helping people. it was rough at first, his explosive powers led him to make a lot of mistakes, and hurt a lot of people on accident. it's something he still struggles with feeling immense guilt over. he did eventually get his powers under control, and can use them to actually help people like he always wanted, but it was definitely a process. he has a lot of remorse and still-pent-up feelings about his past. nowadays he's a pretty famous and controversial hero. mostly because he's openly communist in a very capitalistic field (and country), and more about actually helping people instead of just putting on performances. he's a big sweetheart and just loves making other people's days more than anything!

he's had a few big "events" in his life, one of the most life-changing being his run in with the company that made him, AMOEBA. investigating a string of kidnappings led him back to there, and their ceo lourence. he was forced to work for them, like originally intended, to spare the lives of those in their custody. he eventually managed to escape and save the people held there, injured but alive. the event shot him into the public eye, and his career really took off from there. amoeba was never punished or questioned due to the general public assuming the event to be a publicity stunt, as so many things of that nature tend to be in this setting.

starb has also had many run ins with a lesser known villain, named russian roulette. they were similarly made to be a killing machine, and take their job very seriously. they consider starb a nuisance and a liar after the two of them had a misunderstanding that cost them their newly found freedom, and now they've sworn revenge. despite this, the two of them have.. an interesting relationship. calling it romantic feels wrong, at least at first, but they're some sort of "together?" kind of the way that love and hate are considered similar feelings, although starburst would never hate them. the two of them were recently trapped together for a while, and they've since come to a kind of understanding with each other. they're still rivals, but at the very least, russian roulette isn't trying to kill him.... as much.

art credit

the final kind of "big" thing i can think about regarding him is his husband! a few years back he was kidnapped by scelestic, my friend @apotheoseity's villain organization. while there, he met the lab assistant, teslacoil. he was.. kicked out of being kidnapped because his gay antics with him were too annoying. lol. the two of them kept talking afterwards, got closer, and eventually got married! they live together now. it's pretty silly, considering starburst is a hero and tesla is a villain, but they make it work. tesla is kind of starb's entire world, and really changed his life. despite the weird way they met, they're kind of the perfect couple now. very lovey dovey and cheesy. they're cute!

art on the left credit

he's polyam- as you might have inferred- and has a few other partners as well. he's dating... himself from another universe, a version of nix i use for roleplay. he's the first person starburst got close with romantically, and nix is also the one who helped him learn how to better control his powers. another one of his partners is hocus pocus, or villian spectasy, an upcoming hero with a rich dad who used to be famous (not villain, but villian, with the i and the a swapped. kind of tongue-in-cheek for his original role as an antagonist, but i think it's silly.) they had a rough start, with villian's ego getting the best of him. the two of them were "business partners" for a bit, starburst becoming his sidekick, before starb eventually decided the two of them were better off as just boyfriends and not working together. they worked through it and are still together, and villian works on.. well, for lack of a better term, making himself less of a dickhead. it's the capitalist x communist relationship everyone's been clamoring for! (nobody has been clamoring for it) he has a few other partners, some who are friend's characters, and also.. his motorcycle! he's dating his motorcycle.

thank you for reading if you got this far, i hope this is all legible! lol. he's my special guy (and he's also me) and he means the world to me. he's got a lot going on, i'd love to answer any follow up questions! but that's my big starb rundown for now!

[gatormeister]

39 episodes into Gundam Wing. Still enjoying it, I would say that the second half of the show is a lot stronger than the first half, but it is very disappointing to have not one, but two whole recap episodes in here. Unfortunately they confirmed an opinion of mine that I'd been thinking over since my last post.

Gundam Wing actually does very well with story telling in the moment to moment, but zooming out and viewing the events of the show as a whole so far, feels very... off. So much has happened in the show, and yet it feels like very little has changed at the same time.

Plot beats have this odd disjointedness to them. Things just sort of happen to the Gundam pilots and Relena, they can't change anything from where they are now, and haven't really had the ability to do so since the Romefeller Foundation takes over the Earth. They come close when the Sanc Kingdom existed, but that doesn't last very long at all. They're all just being tossed around an unstable environment with nowhere to really go.

I suppose that's what sets Wing apart though. There is no place to go back to. No White Base, no Argama/Nahel Argama, no Tekkadan, no 08th MS Team, no Earth House, no Inglessa Militia. Sure Quatre has something like that, but they don't show up enough for them to be that for the show. The space colonies don't want them back and White Fang just wants the Gundams as a form of propaganda to rile people up, the Sanc Kingdom was destroyed, those scientists are all over the place, and the Gundam pilots barely even want to work with each other half the time.

Which isn't a bad thing mind you, at least not inherently. Interesting developments are happening all the time, but there is so much that it becomes easy to forget a character or plot beat exists until they suddenly get brought back up.

Part of why Zechs sticks out to me so much compared to the rest of the show is probably because unlike a lot of other characters and factions, he does feel like a constant in the show. Even if he doesn't have an appearance for a bit, you can always be sure he'll pop back up in some way soon, and his plot is very easy to keep track of because of that.

Anyway, I'm going to cut off the ramble for now. I look forward to Heero trying to kill Relena (again) when I get back to it. And I've also decided what I'll be watching in Gundam once I finish Endless Waltz. The current plan is to go through War in the Pocket, Stardust Memory, and Thunderbolt, and depending on the length of those three I might include the Igloo OVAs. Once those are finished, I intend to go for After War Gundam X or Reconguista in G, both of which I've had my eyes on for a bit now.

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 4 of Harrow the Ninth

Back to second person

So in trying to keep track of what Ianthe's eye color changes over the course of this chapter meant, I went back to the first book to try to see if I could find what color Ianthe and Naberius's eyes were back then, because I pretty much never remember characters' eye colors. I didn't succeed in finding out Naberius's eye color, but I did find this very interesting piece of Ianthe dialog from just after she became a Lyctor:

So it looks like Ianthe had maybe already figured out that the Emperor had absorbed Earth's soul even before this book. I'm sure it's Earth's soul, because I don't think she could have figured that out if she weren't actually on the planet in question

So, ok, it feels like removing a fingernail would hurt a lot, but I used to know someone who removed their fingernails as a nervous habit the way that a lot of people bite their fingernails, and claimed that that never hurt, and also when I was like five or six and was wearing sandals with socks like the unfashionable child I was, I opened a heavy door over my foot and it scraped my entire big toenail off and I didn't feel anything at all. I just looked down at my foot and was like, why is my sock all bloody? It turned out my toenail had somehow become like wet and had scrunched up down to the nailbed. After it dried and became hard again, it eventually just detached and fell off by itself, and again, that didn't hurt at all. Also, my pinky toenails just periodically fall off by themselves, also painlessly. So I think in at least some circumstances of acute nail trauma, the nerves are just all completely obliterated before you get a chance to feel anything, or something like that

Also, more interestingly for this book, it seems that keratin counts as bone when it comes to necromancy, maybe?

This obviously didn't happen right now, but it seems to have happened in this room at some time in the past, based on the end of the chapter. I wonder if this happened before or after Harrow removed Gideon - if it happened before, I wonder if Harrow will have more dreams about things that happened before that will tell us more about what happened during that period of time than Harrow's waking thoughts are capable of

This also means that someone here is trying to kill Harrow, but we do know that already from the prologue when someone also tried to kill her. Ianthe seems like an obvious suspect, but I think she's too obvious for it to be her, sort of like Mayonnaise Uncle was too obvious a villain to be the murderer last book. Also there are three presumably major characters that we haven't even met yet

A very odd mix of compliments and insults. Also, Harrow's eyes are "like flower petals in a darkened room" so I think that means they are still black, or perhaps, back to being black again

This whole thing of pre-Work Harrow (I'm going to use pre-Work and post-Work to refer to things now, since the event that Harrow can't remember is introduced in this chapter as "the work") leaving notes for post-Work Harrow to follow reminds me, first of all, of the movie Memento, and second of all of Harrow leaving notes for Gideon to follow back in Canaan House. I guess this is just how Harrow does things

So there are 24 letters and Ianthe is only giving her 22, which means that the other two, which I guess are letter #1 and the one that Ianthe gets to read if Harrow dies

And this explains why Harrow has a letter that she's supposed to read if she's about to die in the prologue

So, a timeline: she did whatever she did a couple days after the end of the last book

So whatever it was, it wasn't just that Harrow removed Gideon and that saved her soul, and things will be fine unless Harrow reabsorbs her soul again. Something about pre-Work Harrow's plans require Harrow to continue living without knowing anything about Gideon. Is it that Harrow remembering Gideon will automatically cause her to reabsorb her soul? But if it was just that, there wouldn't be a reason why it was very important for Harrow to continue living, unless dying would cause her to remember or something like that

This was written before the Emperor told her that she can't do that anyway, because of the Resurrection Beasts - if he had already told her that and she forgot, he wouldn't have told her again, or would have been surprised and/or angry and frustrated that she didn't remember that, probably. So there is some other reason for this. Possibly just that Aiglamene and Crux would probably talk to her about Gideon or ask what happened to her, and then would be confused when Harrow instead talked about Ortus, or maybe the revised chronology from the last chapter would fall apart when the people who knew her growing up reminded her of how it really was. Actually, I'm surprised that "don't mention your cavalier by name to anyone" isn't one of the guidelines here

So there is something special about the sword, something that pre-Work Harrow knew about, which she didn't know about at the end of the last book, so this must have happened because of the Work. Was Gideon's soul put into the sword somehow, or something like that?

Also, I note that Harrow didn't have this sword with her during the prologue, and she also didn't keep that imminent death letter on her person at that time either, so she was in violation of a couple of these guidelines at that point in time

So the source of thanergy that allows Lyctors to do necromancy in space is called the Lyctoral well. I wonder what/where that is

So pre-Work Harrow placed complete trust in Ianthe to make sure her plan works, whatever it was. I'm sure this will not go wrong in any way at all

I'm guessing this is about the letter that is to be read before she dies? There is a guideline to not die, but several places in this letter mention Harrow's death, so possibly Harrow is supposed to die at a particular point in time, or in a particular way, and a future letter will mention this?

So later, Ianthe says:

So, I'm guessing that pre-Word Harrow did something necromancy-related to Ianthe's mouth that can be undone only if Ianthe replaces her jaw or tongue, and whatever this is is very important for Harrow's plan. Based on the name Harrow gives here, it sounds like it probably restricts Ianthe from saying something (presumably about Gideon), or from saying that to Harrow specifically, maybe? This definitely seems like some kind of spell that the Ninth House would like a lot

Ok, this sort of explains how Ianthe was in the prologue. Also, this like of dialog now makes sense:

So Ianthe does know enough to know about the memory adjustment that happened

In the last book I was wondering how anyone knew Camilla's last name, since it was never mentioned in dialog anywhere. But I guess we're meant to think here that Gideon knew it, so Harrow therefore knew it after she absorbed Gideon, and now Harrow doesn't know it anymore because she removed Gideon

But Harrow did interact with Camilla in Gideon the Ninth. I think it was only one time, but after the Ianthe/Mayonnaise Uncle/Colum fight they had this chat where they compared notes and established that Cytherea probably wasn't Dulcinea while Gideon was on the floor, oblivious, worrying about if she'd ruined Palamedes' thing with Dulcinea. This doesn't seem like something that Harrow should have forgotten, I don't think she has any reason to blank out memories of Camilla, and she definitely remembered everything about Cytherea in the last second-person chapter when she realized that one of the coffins contained her body

Does Harrow have some reason to think that Corona is dead? Gideon didn't have any reason to think that Corona was dead at the end of the last book. From the second paragraph it sounds like maybe Harrow hallucinated something to do with Corona at some point in there, or maybe saw something that Gideon didn't see and is now assuming it was a hallucination because of how Ianthe reacted. Also, the way Ianthe reacts to this at the end of this chapter is pretty weird and suspicious

Here's another piece of evidence for some third-party narrator - this piece of narration recognizes this knife as being Naberius's and specifically says that this is something Harrow never knew about. Gideon would have recognized it, but Harrow doesn't seem to know things that Gideon knew anymore. Is Gideon the third-party narrator? I feel like there is too much knowledge of necromancy and not enough jokes about Dr. Skelebone in the narrative for that to be the case, and also the last time that there seemed to be an opinion in the narrative that wasn't Harrow's, it was about Harrow being bigoted against flesh magicians, and I'm sure Gideon doesn't give a flying fuck about that. I guess the other two relevant people who would recognize Naberius's weapons are Ianthe and Corona, and maybe also some of the other cavaliers from Canaan House, but I doubt the other cavaliers would have something to do with this, and also all of them are dead except for Camilla, who was never in a position to fight Naberius to my knowledge

So, I gather than Lyctor healing is supposed to be automatic and effortless and whatever Harrow has done has caused that to not work anymore, and she has to consciously use necromancy to heal, which she was also presumably able to do before

[saturnine-saturneight]

Sliiiide.

🏁-Looking back at the first thing you've written/posted, how have you improved since then?

🌓- Show us a snippet of a before and an after between drafts! What did you change and why?

Haha hellooo, thank you for the ask!!!

🏁-Looking back at the first thing you've written/posted, how have you improved since then?

I think the best point of reference for this is when I started posting prose on the internet. I was part of a roleplaying community here on Tumblr, and had arcs going on for my OCs that influenced and were driven forward by roleplays with my friends.

To develop my characters beyond this, I would write the sort of... Connecting tissue, big events that were happening in the background and could drive my and other people's plots forward.

These were drabbles in the loose sense of that word, and the defining feature was that they were short! Easier to write, easier to consume, packing a lot into usually something around 500 words. Because I honestly, honestly had no idea how to write something longer than this. I would try and fail to connect one scene to the next and just do vignettes, I would lose confidence that anyone wanted to read on if I made them longer, and I especially had no idea how to continue after a dramatic moment or a cliff hanger and just post instead.

(This was partially a mental state thing - my life was pretty chaotic, and my thoughts matched that.)

The main thing I've learned since then is how to plot out something long that coheres and then actually write it, lmfao. I can do long term planning in my writing now and then get from A to B in a way that isn't filler and is (I think/hope) fun to read.

🌓- Show us a snippet of a before and an after between drafts! What did you change and why?

Gonna do the intro paragraph for this. First version:

The wind rushes past their ears as Natalie floors it through the forest. Ron whoops with joy every time the all terrain vehicle hits a bump. It's a clear, starlit night, and there's no one around but them.

This was a version where the characters needed no introduction because everyone in my audience (friends) was already familiar with them, and I just jumped straight into the action. This opening bit leads right into the deciding action of the first chapter in the span of a page or two, and then the whole thing devolves into The Horror.

Second version:

The smell of ozone builds slowly in the cold night air. It's still hard to notice over the metallic stench of their crowded ATV, until it suddenly isn't anymore and it hits Rain straight in the face.

I changed the setting from forest to desert, and put in a few chapters to introduce these characters, explain the stakes, and give The Horror some buildup. This was after a good bit of feedback! I showed the story to people outside of my friend group and they had no idea what was going on or why they should care. Also note Ron's name here - i was playing with worldbuilding, and he was from a coastal town where the majority of kids were named after something water, seafaring, or star related.

Current:

It's subtle at first, hard to notice, when the air thickens, and the clear blue sky slowly, slowly turns a sickly green. Like sticky dust, the sweet stench of flowers begins to cover every surface, every rock and every grain of sand. Only as it starts to seep through the AC does Ron startle awake, head jerking up from where it had fallen back against the headrest of his car seat.

I changed the genre from second world sci-fantasy to eco horror set in the future of this Earth, which is the rewrite I'm still currently on. The storm is not a green acid storm anymore, but a pollen storm instead, so I can link back to the central conceit of plant zombies. I was also able to make this a lot more descriptive, because even though I'm changing the paint on this story and cleaning up the worldbuilding, the bones are, for a large part, already there.

I've honestly fucked with this story so drastically that I don't even consider line edits actual edits right now, haha. Something is a new version when I've rewritten about 2/3rds of it by volume. What stays is the mood and the intention of the scene, but everything else is fair game for repurposing, scrapping, full rewriting etc.

[chartreuseian]

Hey! Fan fic writer ask. 💥🥳🔎😎

Hi hi!! Thank you 🥰

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

Ooooh, I did already get this one, but let's be real, we all have a thousand things we would change if we could. Maybe Nikola saying he loved her in 'The Five'? Or just how they handled him in general? I think they didn't have a huge plan for his character (which, fair) so he's a little all over the place.

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

Not a clue! Fun, I guess. I was the summer after I'd finished high school just before I started university but other than remembering when I started, I've got no idea why.

I restarted because last year nearly broke me and I made a deliberate decision to reclaim my life and my time to do thing that I like. And writing was something I loved, but hadn't done properly since about 2014/2015.

🔎 Does anyone beta read or edit your fics?

Nah! Sometimes I'll send bits to people for feedback or if I don't like how something is going to get some advice, but no proper editing/beta stuff. I don't take it quite seriously enough for that!

😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

To read? Either.

To write? I call it canon adjacent. Like train fic is my sort of 'what if?' response to if something forced Helen and Nikola together back during their Oxford days. In my head, once they get home a lot of the events of the show would still happen, but with their relationship playing out alongside it.

Same for Lessons. It's the question of what would have happened if James had manned up and let Helen and John seduce him (because you can't tell me the three of them weren't flirting up a storm).

I'm attempting my first ever totally original story for them (I say that, but it's got some big Out of the Blue inspiration) at the moment, and it's a very different experience to write it!