#That's it. I feel like I've been losing a lot of mutuals over my main recently due to not shutting up (sorry)

[sskk-manifesto]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[revasserium]

death before decaf

opla!zoro; 10,414 words; coffee shop/college!au, vague enemies to lovers, fencer!zoro, sports medicine!major reader, slightly ooc zoro (he's a bit more talkative), fluff and flirting, bff!robin, zoro makes the first move, zoro calling reader "princess", mutual pining, both reader and zoro are dumbasses, making out in locker rooms

summary: sanji and nami bet on how long it'll take you and zoro to finally crack over your caffeine-related discourse; or -- that one coffee!shop zoro au that literally no one asked for.

a/n: i keep on saying "this is the longest fic i've written to date" but this really is the longest fic i've written to date. and no, this will not be the only time zoro calls reader "princess" in one of my fics. trust.

one.

“How long did you say?”

“Two weeks, max.”

“Nah… you think?”

“Probably closer to a week. Week and a half.”

Sanji stubs out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe before tossing the smoking nub into the bin, casting Nami a disbelieving look.

“They’ve been going on like this for like three months… and you think they’re gonna crack in the next week and a half? Nah, fam — I call bullshit.”

Nami shrugs, smirking, “Your funeral.”

Sanji scoffs as Nami pushes through the swinging double doors into the main body of the cafe, hitching a smile onto her face as she greets the customers already lined up in front of the counter.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters to himself, dusting his hands off on his apron before pushing in after her, putting on his best customer-service smile.

“Mornin’ folks! Welcome to the Straw Hats Cafe, where the coffee’s hot but the people are hotter — what can I get started for you, sweetheart?” he grins as he shoots you a wink and you flash him your best Colgate smile.

“Can I get a decaf latte with —”

“Oat milk, two pumps of caramel, and whipped cream on top? Oh — and a sprinkle of cinnamon cause you can’t have a fall latte without cinnamon, right?” Sanji finishes for you.

You nod, your cheeks flushed a bright, wind-kissed pink from the cold outside.

Behind you, a green-haired boy in a tight-fitting tee and no jacket scoffs under his breath, shaking his head.

“Yep! You know me so well,” you say, giggling and making a point to speak just a bit louder.

“Course I do, darlin’. It’s what I get paid for,” Sanji jots down your order and pushes it to the side where Nami’s already halfway done with making your drink.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite mosshead jock — lemme guess, double espresso, no sugar, no nothin’, right?” Sanji punches in the order just as Zoro makes his way up to the counter, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.”

Sanji grins, hiking an eyebrow, “Talkative as always, I see. Alright — that’d be —”

Zoro wordlessly slides a full punch card onto the counter and Sanji pauses.

“Ah — pardon me, I do believe that’s your free drink! You sure you wanna use it on an espresso? Maybe… you wanna try one of our seasonal specials? The maple spice latte’s one of our best —”

Zoro scoffs again, “I’m good. I like my coffee real, thanks.”

Down passed the pastries, you roll your eyes, making an exaggerated face as Nami hands you your drink with a grin.

“Y’know, if you guys just made out I feel like it would fix a lot of this unresolved tension,” she says, even as you nearly choke on your drink.

You’re still coughing when Zoro joins you by the finished drinks counter.

“I’d rather lose an eye than make out with someone who drinks decaf.”

Nami sighs, shooting you a meaningful look as she slides the double espresso toward Zoro.

You wipe your lips with a napkin before leveling him with a glare.

“Well I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than make out with someone who never grew out of his middle school emo-phase.”

“At least I don’t try to use sugar to fill the gaping hole in your life where a real personality should be.”

“At least I don’t make that gaping hole my entire personality.”

“Princess.”

“Edgelord.”

You turn resolutely away from Zoro and smile back at Nami and Sanji, both stealing glances at the pair of you even as they continue to handle the Monday morning rush.

“Thank you guys — I’m gonna be late for class.

Zoro tsks, taking a sip of his espresso.

“I’m gonna be late for practice.”

You huff, pivoting away from him towards the door, purposefully letting it swing shut behind you; Zoro swears as it almost makes him spill his coffee.

Back in the coffee shop, Sanji finishes another order just as Nami washes off her hands to take over at the cashier.

“One and a half weeks?” Sanji asks as he rolls up his sleeves and grabs a few metal cups for steamed milk.

“Yep,” Nami replies, shooting another look out the glass door where they can both still see your’s and Zoro’s silhouettes as you head towards the university campus, “Just about.”

“Alright then, you’re on.”

Nami’s smirk only grows, “Like I said — your funeral.”

two.

You’re fuming all the way to your first morning class — Bio-Organic Chemistry — that you don’t notice your friend Robin until she’s standing right next to you.

“Are you mad at your fencer-boy again?”

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath, “He’s not my fencer-boy, and no. I’m not mad.”

Robin grins, “Your tone says different.”

You cast her a reproachful look, “I just… bumped into him at the coffee shop again.”

“Ah,” Robin says, her voice saturated with understanding.

You groan, “He just… pisses me off so much! Like, why’s he care how much sugar I put in my drinks or if I drink decaf? He’s just a muscle-head loser who thinks drinking espresso shots makes him somehow more manly or something. Ugh.”

Robin’s grin is amused when you turn to chance her a glance.

“Then… why do you care how he takes his coffee?” Her question is light, but you’ve known her for long enough to know when she’s teasing.

“I didn’t! At least… not until he made fun of my drink first. I mean, who does that anymore? We’re in college! Like, grow up!”

“Mm,” Robin hums, schooling her expression into one of careful consideration and marked compassion, “and of course, you’re just engaging in his… childish antics because he started it first, right?”

You sigh, cupping your very sugary latte between your palms as you both duck into the main lecture building, teaming with students shedding scarves and jackets, shaking off the late autumn chill.

“I know, I know it’s stupid but… he just… pisses me off so much!”

Robin chuckles, her smile distinctly sphinx-like as you press your lips into a pout.

“Well, we can talk about it after morning lecture, hm?”

You sigh and nod, waving her off as she heads down the hallway towards her Ancient Worlds class and you head upstairs for the sciences.

You spend the whole lecture in a mood and by the time you’re excused, your temples have started to throb.

But true to her word, you find Robin waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, a thick leather-bound book clutched to her chest. You give her a questioning look.

“Just some light reading,” she says. You roll your eyes.

“Just say you’re a gigantic nerd and go.”

At this Robin laughs, falling into step next to you as you both start to make your way towards the dining commons.

“Have I ever denied that I was?”

You let out a noncommittal grunt.

Luckily, the commons isn‘t as crowded as it usually is and you both quickly find a seat.

“So,” Robin says as she slides into the seat next to you, propping up her chin on the heel of her hand. There’s a low, lilting tone to her voice that tells you there’s no getting out of it this time.

You sigh again, pursing your lips, staring down at your açaí bowl.

“So what?”

“Tell me about him.”

You scoff, “Not really much to tell — he’s… one of the fencers on the national team. So obviously, he’s got his own head shoved so far up his ass he can probably watch his own lunch dige—“

“So he’s quite good at fencing then.” Robin keeps her voice neutral, taking a contemplative bite of a banana.

“I guess — I mean we’re the top feeder school for the Olympic team, aren’t we?” You jab your spoon into the yogurt, nearly splattering Robin’s new book. She gently tucks it into her bag and motions for you to continue.

“I dunno, there’s not much to tell after that… he’s an arrogant jock who judges people by how they take their coffee,” and at this, you shove a large spoonful of yogurt and açaí into your mouth, glaring at nothing in particular.

“Doesn’t your practical applications class look after the fencing team?”

Again, you grunt, sinking a bit further into your seat at the thought.

“Yeah, I’ve been dreading that all morning, and the class isn’t till Wednesday.”

Robin’s smile is almost too academic as she carefully finishes her banana and gets started on an egg salad sandwich.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

You sniff, swallowing another huge mouthful of yogurt.

“It can,” you say, grimacing, “You should see the number of times I’ve had to hold back from dislocating his shoulder on purpose.”

Robin laughs her tinkling, all-knowing laugh, “Every day, I wake up glad to be on your whitelist.”

Your lips twitch into a reluctant grin.

“I’d be nicer too if I were as tall and pretty as you are. But since I’m not one of god’s strongest soldiers, I’ve gotta find other ways of defending myself, y’know?”

“I’m not sure what you do can be called ‘self-defense’ in a court of law but…” she smiles, “You shouldn’t sell yourself short either.”

You cast her a deadpan look, “But I am short. It’s like where 90% of my rage and spite come from.”

Robin grins, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You make a rather childish face, but a comfortable warmth spreads from the center of your chest out towards all your extremities at Robin’s words. She cocks her head and continues.

“Plus… I’ve a creeping suspicion that your fencer-boy would agree that you’re prettier than you think.”

You freeze mid-swallow on your last spoonful of yogurt, eyes wide.

“Wait — what?”

Robin sighs, looking at you as if studying a particularly interesting monolith carved with all her favorite dead languages. You sit back, crossing your arms, feeling raw beneath her inquisitive gaze.

“You can’t still think that this little… feud you two have is purely based on a difference in coffee preference, can you?”

You realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip and force yourself to stop.

“I — I don’t know how it can be anything else though…” but even to your own ears, you sound distinctly unconvinced. Robin cocks her head.

“Think about it — when we were all little kids and running around on playground, which girls would get their pigtails pulled the most?”

Your frown deepens, “But we’re not kids anymore and this isn’t a play —“

“Yes, I know. Just humor me for a moment.”

You squirm in your seat, your heart thudding erratically in your rib cage, making you feel strangely breathless.

“It was… always the girls that the boys had a crush on,” you answer, your voice growing smaller with each word as the realization seeps into your skin like sunlight. And suddenly, it's too hot. The thought that Zoro might be doing this because he likes you isn’t something that’s crossed your mind. Or rather, it isn’t a thought you’d allowed to cross your mind.

“You know, boys aren’t technically considered ‘men’ until they’re in their mid-thirties,” Robin says, conversational and satisfied to have driven the point home to you. She leans back even as you reach up to press your face into the palms of your hands.

“But…” you try to grasp for some thread of logic that might be able to refute Robin’s claim but come up empty. She’s always been too smart for her own good. And yours.

When you finally lift your head again, it’s to find Robin still watching you, an oddly indulgent smile on her lips.

“C’mon,” she says, gathering her things, “don’t want you to be late for your next lecture.”

She has the audacity to wink as you hurriedly grab your stuff as well.

“Shut up,” you say, bumping her lightly with your elbow as you walk passed her, cheeks darkening with every step. Your next lecture, you both know, is the Nutrition of Sports — which is one of the few actual classes that you and Zoro actually share.

“Have fun in class!” Robin calls as you split ways outside the dining commons. You consider flipping her off but decide against it and opt to stick out your tongue at her instead.

Robin shakes her head, laughing quietly to herself. Really, she thinks, this is just starting to get interesting.

three.

You walk into Nutrition of Sports fully prepared to see Zoro slouched in his usual seat at the back of the class — except, he’s not there. You blink; he’s always been there, always early despite what others might assume of his punctuality. And yet.

“Lookin’ for me, Princess?”

You jump as you hear Zoro’s voice behind you, dangerously close to your ear. Jerking around, you find him smirking, arms crossed as he stares at you.

“N-no.”

“Tch.” He saunters into the room, his arm barely grazing yours as he drops into his seat, leaning back with a sort of damnable, feline grace, doing nothing to hide a huge, lethargic yawn. When he makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, you pause as you notice the way he winces, favoring his left side over his right.

You narrow your eyes.

“You’d be a shit poker player,” he says, grinning as he turns his eyes back towards you, catching you staring before you flush a deep purple and stomp towards your own seat, just one row ahead of him.

You noisily start setting up your supplies — an endless parade of jelly pens and perfectly coordinated sticky notes in aesthetically pleasing colors — pretending like you hadn’t heard him.

Thankfully, the professor hurries in soon after as the rest of the students file in.

Halfway through the lecture, you’re stifling the third yawn of the hour as you feel a small, crumpled something hit the back of your neck. You jerk around to find Zoro ducking behind his arms even as you spot the small wad of paper that he’d obviously just tossed at you.

You bend down to pick it up, only to find a note scribbled in slanted, uneven handwriting —

Sugar crash? Ha. Serves you right.

You nearly whip around but the professor clicks another slide and drones on. You huff, flipping the paper over to scribble on the back —

What happened to your arm?

You surreptitiously toss the note back to him and grin to yourself as you hear him sputtering behind you. The professor glances towards you. You flash him a winning smile as you continue to jot down notes; behind you, you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro scrambling to appear as if he’s paying attention.

The rest of the lecture goes by uninterrupted, though by the end, you swear that your hackles are raised from the way Zoro’s been staring at the back of your neck the entire time.

“What?” you ask, whipping around to face him.

Zoro, for his part, has the decency to look sheepish as he clears his throat and sighs, leaning back.

“There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” he says as he looks away, a slight darkness dusting the high of his cheeks. It’s not the first time you notice the bone-chiseled features of his face — like some gorgeous, careless god, rendered by the loving hands of a besotted Renaissance artist and preserved for the world to see — the way a constellation of freckles scatter across the bridge of his nose, the way his jaw is sharp enough to sting the imagination.

“Right. Fine. Sorry I asked.” You shove your notes and pens back into your bag, rolling your eyes as you shoulder your tote, “And… you’d be a shit poker player too.”

And with that, you turn and leave the room without a single backward glance.

You’re gone so quick that you don’t see the way Zoro stares after you, his own eyes narrowed into slits. You don’t see the way he frowns as one of his teammates nudges him with an elbow, reminding him that afternoon practice starts in 15 minutes.

four.

Tuesday night finds you slumped over a stack of books on the 3rd floor of the library, your entire body feeling odd and boneless. Hundreds of tiny flashcards are scattered across the top of the desk, each filled with a system you have to memorize before your test on Friday for your O-Chem course, when suddenly, a white paper cup appears in your field of vision, plopping onto the tiny slip of table still available between all your study materials.

“Hm?” you jerk up, blinking blearily up at a vaguely familiar green-haired figure even as he crosses his arms and sighs.

“There. Some real coffee. Looked like you need it,” Zoro says, glancing away the moment your eyes come into focus.

You stare at him for a solid ten seconds before looking back down at the cheap, watered-down cup of unsweetened coffee on the table before you.

Ew, you want to say, but somehow, “Thanks,” is what comes out of your mouth.

You reach for the cup, wincing slightly as you jerk your fingers back from the scalding exterior of the thin paper cup.

Zoro immediately leans down, snatching the cup from the table to blow on the surface. You watch him with wide, wondering eyes. It takes him a second to catch himself before he blushes a deep shade of maroon and clears his throat, quickly setting the cup back down on your desk, tucking both his hands into his pockets, looking anywhere but directly at you.

“It’s — careful — I mean — it’s from the vending machine downstairs so it’s not as fancy as the stuff we get from the coffee shop —”

Maybe it’s because you’re truly too tired, or maybe because Robin’s been right since day one but — you reach for the cup, carefully cradling it between your palms as you take a tentative sip and grimace at the watery, bitter aftertaste.

“Gross,” you say, though without any malice, glancing up at him. Zoro scoffs, dragging out an empty seat across from you, turning it around to straddle the chair, propping both his arms on the back as he looks at you. Your eyes once more catch on the way he’s gentler with his right side.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” you ask again, taking another tentative sip of the truly awful coffee.

Zoro grimaces, “None of your business.”

You sigh, the will to snark back rather feeble as you consider the mountain of vocab you have to memorize before your Friday test.

“Right, sure — keep your secrets,” you drone as you set the paper cup down and nudge it further away from you, “be mysterious for the next —” you check your watch, “eighteen hours before Practical Applications when you’ll have to explain to Coach Mihawk why you've been lying about an obvious injury three weeks before your next —”

“Fuck — okay.”

You pause, looking up from collecting your flash cards.

Zoro digs his fingers into his right shoulder.

“I — I think I pulled it at the tournament last week.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Your tournament was on Thursday.”

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, “And?”

“And it’s now Tuesday.”

Zoro doesn’t answer this time, but you have to actively fight down the urge to throw the no-longer-scalding-but-still-very-hot-coffee at his face. You tell yourself that the only thing stopping you is professionalism and sportsmanship instead of an unwillingness to damage his Michaelangelo-sculpted features.

“It’s been five days!”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to count.”

You bite back a frustrated scream as you push away from your chair and round the table to stand behind him, not giving him enough time to be bewildered before you press a palm to his right shoulder, already focused on finding the tender spots.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

You run an expert palm over the width of his shoulders, focusing on his right, fingers digging into various muscle groups until he winces.

“Ow.”

You grin as you find a tender patch to the right of his spine, almost beneath his shoulder blade.

“You strained your Rhomboid.”

“Gesundheit.”

You roll your eyes and reach over his back for the cup of coffee. You feel his breath hitch as your front presses full against his back.

“Hold still,” you say, pressing the side of the warm cup to the sore muscle.

Zoro makes a choked moaning noise that he tries to bite off, but not soon enough. It sizzles down your spine to curl at the base of your belly, spreading heat through your body in a way you have no urge to examine at this current point in time.

You hold it there for a minute, and then two, till the coffee’s gone lukewarm.

“Here,” you say, tugging the cup away to offer it to him.

He stares at the cup before glancing up at you.

“Caffeine helps with muscle soreness and pain — it’s probably why you’re so addicted to espresso all the time,” you offer by way of an explanation, even as he opens his mouth to ask. He closes his mouth and takes the coffee, downing half of it in a single gulp.

Then, he sets it down on the table before digging a crumpled packet of sugar out of his pants pocket.

“It’s… probably not as sweet as you usually like it but…” he presses it into the palm of your hand, looking anywhere but at your face, “should help the bitterness.”

And then he’s gone, slouching off towards the elevator bank, leaving you gaping after him with the packet of sugar in your hand, your rapidly cooling coffee, and a mountain of revisions you’ve got no hope of finishing tonight.

five.

Wednesday finds you practically sprinting as you reach your Practical Applications course, clutching at your chest as you burst through the gym doors, gasping for breath. Professor Kureha quirks an inquiring eyebrow at you while Mihawk, the fencing instructor, slates you a sharp, rueful glare.

“— as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” his bright hawk-yellow eyes flash back over the fencing team, “regionals are quickly approaching and we need you in top form. So — warm-ups stretches, everyone. Pair up and get to it. Zoro, up here with me.”

You duck your head and hurry towards your normal spot along the bleachers, slowing as you notice what looks like a cup of coffee from the Straw Hats Cafe occupying the place where you normally sit. You pick up the cup — it’s still hot to the touch.

On the coffee slip is a single word — Princess.

And though it’s in Sanji’s familiar coffee shop scrawl, only one person has ever called you that.

Heat crests up your chest, prickling at your cheeks. You don’t have to taste it to know that it’s your order — your favorite order. Briefly, you wonder if Sanji made Zoro recite the entire thing before agreeing to put it down, or if he’d spared Zoro the pain of having to say the word ‘decaf’ unironically.

And then you wonder if Nami teased him at all, waiting for his own drink on top of yours.

“Chop chop,” Professor Kureha says, grinning too wide as she wanders over, peering at you over her John Lennon shades, “you heard old Hawk-eyes — time to pair up.”

You hurriedly drop your bag and take a quick sip of our drink, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as the caramel-cinnamon goodness seeps into your blood vessels. Some nameless freshman hopeful from the fencing team is your partner for stretches and you patiently walk him through all the major motions, pushing on his back and laughing kindly when he can’t quite reach his toes.

You feel the faint tingle on the back of your neck that tells you someone’s staring, and you privately think that you don’t need three guesses to figure out who it is. But you don’t give Zoro the satisfaction of looking over till you help the blushing freshman finish all his stretches, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, reaching up on tip-toe to ruffle his hair even though he’s got a solid four inches over you.

When finally, you glance over towards where Mihawk is putting Zoro through his paces, it’s to find him flickering through the motions — flashes of silver, lithe, fluid — and you find your breath held captive in your chest by the sight.

You’ve always known Zoro to be a graceful fencer, but grace has nothing on the way he flows from one move to the next, each muscle drawn like a bow-string, each intake of breath timed and perfect. His arms and legs move in tandem and there’s a bewitching rhythm to the way his body breaks and bends. It is beauty and strength, dance and magic — power and promise and the sword-tip’s whish of premonition.

When he finishes, you suck in a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding.

You watch as Mihawk murmurs something to Zoro, who winces, looking chastened before Mihawk waves him away and Zoro sets down his epee, making his way over to you.

You open your mouth, about to make some snarky remark but Zoro reaches over his back with one hand and tugs his shirt off in a single, unbroken motion. You gulp, your voice failing you as your eyes settle on the strong ripple of his muscles as he tosses his shirt aside.

Zoro smirks, “Keep starin’ and I’m gonna have to start charging.”

You rip your eyes away, fire licking up the length of your torso as you reach into your bag for a roll of sports tape.

Zoro slumps down in the seat in front of you as you take stock of his sweat-slicked torso, your eyes still catching on the patch of swollen muscle beneath his shoulder blade. You reach forward and run a thumb along it, careful of the way he hisses.

“A hot-patch is only going to do so much,” you say, frowning as you drop the sports tape to focus on massaging the tender bit of skin.

Zoro groans, his eyes falling half shut as you slowly work at the various knots in his shoulders. Your fingers are slow and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure. And more than once, Zoro has to bite back what he’s sure would’ve been an indecent moan before it rolls out of his mouth at the way your soft palms press into the planes of his back, the tenseness of his shoulders.

“Keep moaning like that, I’m gonna have to start charging,” you say, much too close to his ear.

Zoro jerks, even as you pull back, laughing. The sound makes his skin prickle up with goosebumps and he doesn’t want to think about the myriad reasons why.

“I bought you coffee, twice,” he grumbles, cheeks pink, his mind still buzzing from the warmth of your palms.

You hum, your fingers flickering over his skin, pulling away for a second before he feels something wonderful and cool pressing against his sore, aching muscles.

“You’re right… you did buy me coffee twice. Even though the first time was horrible vending machine coffee and I used most of it as a heating pad for your injury.”

Zoro grunts, letting you manhandle him as you gently twist his right arm into an array of different stretches to test his range of mobility.

“Still counts.”

You put down his right arm to test his left. Zoro chooses not to think about the way his body tingles where your hands touch him, and especially not where you’re standing too close, your chest occasionally brushing against his shoulder. He chooses actively not to think about the way he can smell the soft, coconut milk fragrance of your lotion as you lean over him, rambling about doing the proper warm-up and cool-down exercises.

He grins as you reach over mid-sentence to finish your drink and you pause, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

He shrugs, “Nothin’… just that… seems like you liked your drink.”

Your eyes slingshot from his face to the nearly empty cup in your hands.

“I always like my —”

They widen when you realize that Zoro had in fact ordered a double shot of espresso in your usual drink instead of your normal decaf. And, that you’d been too distracted by him to notice.

“I — it — wh —”

Zoro languidly rises from his seat, grinning, “Thanks for the treatment, Princess. I owe you one — lemme buy you a coffee sometime, yeah?”

You stare after him as he makes his way across the room, back to the rest of the team for proper bouts. You force down another blush as you shove the now-empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can, your heart skidding to the rhythmic squeak of feet shuffling against the floors, the bell-like ting of epee blades, the murmur of the watching crowd.

six.

Thursday morning finds you ill-rested and grumpy as you join Robin in the quad, heading for the Straw Hats Cafe during free period.

“Trouble sleeping?” Robin asks, looking you over with mild concern.

You grunt, adjusting your bag, “Had coffee too late in the day.”

At this, Robin frowns, “But you only drink decaf.”

You grunt again, not looking at her, “Yeah, well.”

Robin blinks for a second before a knowing smile splits her lips, “Ah… so. Fencer-boy’s made his move.”

You round on her, fists clenched, “He has not! He just — he just bought me coffee!”

Robin remains infuriatingly unfazed as she stares at you, “Yes. And to most, that would constitute as ‘making a move’. And here I thought you were a fan of romance novels.”

You turn away from her, huffing even as your cheeks fill with color, “I — I am.”

“So?” she asks.

“So?” you echo, cursing yourself for sounding like a petulant child.

“So…” she continues, patient as always, “he bought you coffee.”

You crinkle your nose, your stomach a roiling mess as the pair of you make your way across the quad and duck into the cafe to Sanji’s bright, welcoming voice, your eyes scanning the queue even though you know that Zoro’s got morning practice. This does not go unnoticed by Robin, though she mercifully elects to not question you about it.

“Yes, he bought me coffee. But instead of decaf, he made it a double-shot.” You try very hard to make this sound like a personal affront, but Robin only dips her head.

“Ah,” she says again, and you feel the urge to run out of the building even as the pair of you shuffle towards the front of the line.

“Hi there, oh! I’ve got a special message for you,” Nami says as you get to the registers, her voice silken with glee as she reaches behind the counter to tug out what looks like a receipt. You glance down at the paper, confused, but she only winks as she moves to ask what Robin would like.

You inch to the side, distracted by this strange turn, your eyes dropping to the slip of paper, upon which is scribbled — Good luck on test tomorrow. Evening bout. Gym.

You stare at the cryptic message for a full minute before Robin ushers you toward the counter where Sanji is pumping out drinks, making girls blush as he winks at them each in turn.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Decaf Princess — though… seems like your tastes are a-changin’ these days,” Sanji says, grinning wide as you get to the counter, pushing a steaming cup towards you. You frown at the drink — cinnamon sprinkled atop a perfectly placed dollop of whipped cream, underneath which you’re sure is your favorite drink order. You look back up at Sanji.

“A certain mosshead jock put in an advanced order for you — said to give you an extra shot of espresso for the test you’ve got tomorrow.”

You sputter as Robin laughs beside you, thanking Sanji for her own Long Black.

“You know, you could just be normal and call it an Americano,” you say as the pair of you make your way out of the cafe. Robin grins, sipping at her drink.

“I could… but where’s the fun in that?” she slates you a glance, “More importantly, are you going?”

“To what?” you ask, not meaning to sound so defensive, but you can’t help it, and even as Robin sighs, you know that it’s useless.

“To the bout,” she says, unruffled.

You hunch into your upturned collar and your thick, layered scarf, cradling your drink, the sweet scent of syrup and cinnamon wafting up to tickle your nose. You blush at the thought of Zoro’s voice, full of morning gravel, shy as he lists out all the extremities you like in your coffee order.

“Maybe. I mean… why not, right?”

Robin nods, humming as she takes another long drink, “Mhm — why not indeed.”

You nudge her; she nudges you back. You both laugh as a church bell rings out from across the quad, sending a flock of birds scattering through the misty, morning air.

seven.

Friday evening finds you pushing through the wide gym doors, pressing your hands over the skirt you’d painstakingly picked out, chewing on your bottom lip.

You silently curse at Robin for pulling out last minute, begging off to some Ancient Languages focus group.

“I bet it’s not even real…” you mutter to yourself as you slip into the front row of the bleachers, looking for an empty seat. You somehow manage to look up just as Zoro is about to go on, his mask under one arm, his blade in the other.

You raise your hand in a half wave before catching yourself and shoving it back down, scowling as Zoro’s lips pull into a lopsided grin. You drop into a seat just as Zoro tugs his helmet on and stretches his arms. You tense as you see the slight wince he twitches away as he tests the weight of his blade.

But you needn’t have worried — the bout is quick and decisive, Zoro scoring one point after another, his blade flashing through the air, bright as fish scales. And before you know it, the buzzer sounds, marking his victory. You leap to your feet, cheering with the rest of the crowd as Zoro tugs off his mask and pumps his fists.

You catch his eye and for a moment, the wild rumble of the screaming crowd fades to a dull, thumping baseline. He jerks his head towards the lockers and you nod, swallowing hard as you duck through the still-cheering crowd towards the back of the gym.

When you get there, it’s to find him methodically polishing his blade, his mask set to the side, his thick jacket pulled down to pool around his waist, the rest of his protective wear scattered in heaps on the ground around him. You have half a mind to scold him for being so careless with what you know is expensive gear but you can’t keep yourself from staring at the wide planes of back, curving up to his shoulders, the thick cords of muscle that flex up either side of his neck.

He looks up as you shuffle in, your skirt suddenly feeling a bit too short, too risque for the near-winter weather outside.

You clear your throat and cast your eyes about the empty lockers. You don’t miss the way his gaze skates up your bare legs, pausing at the place where your skirt brushes the top of your thighs.

“Uhm — how’s your shoulder?” your voice sounds too high, echoing strangely along the white-tiled walls.

Zoro licks his lips and puts down his blade, rolling his right shoulder.

“Better but… still not great. Mihawk’s making me to do PT.”

You nod, letting out a soft laugh, “I’m glad. You’d never do it otherwise.”

He scoffs, “You know what that means though, right?” There’s a raw, rolling tension beneath his words, a sort of thickened expectation as he stares at you with dark, meaningful eyes.

You purse your lips, your stomach tightening.

“I —”

Zoro gets to his feet, and you barely register the soft clatter of his blade as it rolls to the side on the bench. He closes the space between you in three quick steps and you find yourself marveling at his speed — wondering vaguely if this is how all his opponents feel when he slips forward, the tip of his blade digging into their shoulder or stomach or the bend of their hip.

“Means we’re stuck with each other. At least till you fix me for regionals in two weeks.”

Your back meets the icy chill of the locker doors and the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them —

“Bold of you to assume that you’re fixable in two weeks.”

Zoro quirks an eyebrow, even as you resist the urge to clap your hands to your mouth, cursing inwardly at whatever the hell made you say that out loud. Your heart thuds an insistent drumbeat inside your chest as Zoro leans casually against the lockers next to you. Like this, you can feel the heat of his skin, the rhythm of his long breaths as he looks you over with sharp, curious eyes.

You think you can taste the sweet, tepid weight of his breath. It smells faintly of coffee and mint and synthetically flavored protein bars.

“Then…” he drawls, propping an arm against the locker door right next to your face, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again. Your gaze is unabashedly caught on the shape of his mouth, but when you finally force yourself to look up at his eyes, it’s to find them warm and amused.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

You gulp, “To fix your shoulder?”

Zoro shrugs, “That and… whatever else you think needs to be fixed.”

You purse your lips, an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words.

“Who knows? Might take three weeks… might take — forever —” your words cut off as he leans in to graze his lips against yours. And you’re momentarily caught between delight and bewilderment that you’re right — they do taste of coffee and mint and salt — but that they also taste of a dull, throbbing hunger as he leans in to kiss you proper. And then, the blooming realization that you’re just as desperate as he is, pushing in, fingers scrabbling against the skin of his chest as his skim along the sides of your ribs, the dip of your waist.

He kisses you so deep and so long that you’re actually gasping when he finally pulls away to suck a stinging hickey into the smooth of your collarbone, his fingers digging grooves into your thighs as he hoists you up to press you against the cold, hard metal of the lockers.

You let out a clipped moan at the same time he does, and his right arm twitches, though he makes no move to let you go.

Distantly, your mind registers the fact that he’s still technically injured, but the part of you that’s hungry and clawing at the base of your stomach with a fierce, immutable need refuses to listen to reason. It takes more effort than it logically should’ve done to extricate yourself from his grasp, to push him away despite his disgruntled sigh as he stumbles back and stares at you with dark, dangerous eyes.

“What —”

“Fuck —” you hiss, even as you let your head fall back against the lockers, the dull thunk pulling a wolfish grin to his lips.

“Yeah, well —”

“Wait — no —”

Zoro cocks his head, “No?”

You reach forward to tug him back, to kiss him as deeply and desperately as you dare, but you pull away before he can properly sink into the kiss and you pin him with a look.

“We — your shoulder —”

“Fuck my shoulder —”

You shake your head, almost delusional with the heat and want and the insanity of it all, “No! We can’t! We — we’ve gotta take care of it first!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, “It’ll get better if we just leave it alone —”

You shake your head again, laughing as he presses back in, slower this time, grazing his knuckles along the skin of your jaw, tilting you back towards him.

“It won’t,” you say, softly, letting him run a thumb along your lips, “but… if you let me take care of it. It will heal faster…” you trail off, letting the implications simmer beneath the surface of all your unsaid words, and it only takes a second for Zoro to consider before he lowers you to the floor and starts haphazardly gathering up his things.

You drag a hand across your lips, watching him.

“So…” you feel yourself blush as you muster up the words but Zoro scoffs, already impatient as he shoves his stuff into one of the larger lockers and slams the door.

“Mine. It’s closer.”

eight.

His, is — in fact — much closer than you’d thought. Only two blocks from the campus, and in one of the most expensive dorm buildings. You wonder how much he must be paying for it before you realize that he's on a sports scholarship, but you can’t even bring yourself to be bitter as he lets you into his spacious dorm, the giant living room scattered with game consoles and opened cereal boxes, leading to a short hallway that opens into his bedroom.

It’s cleaner than you’d imagined, with a set of light green linens drawn neatly over a full-sized bed, and two sets of pillows.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says, sweeping some energy bar wrappers into the trash from his desk as he tosses down his duffle bag.

You shake your head, looking around, your eyes catching on the thick volumes of fencing books, the endless stacks of sports magazines, the huge set of free weights on a rack in the corner by the closet.

“Uh… do you want a drink?” he asks, suddenly awkward as he scratches at the back of his head.

You turn towards him with a grin, “No. But I do want you to take off your shirt.”

Zoro blinks before he smiles and moves towards the bed, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as he leans back on the bed, his perfectly tanned stomach flexing beneath the slanted desk-light as he watches you through lazily hooded eyes.

“On your stomach,” you say, your voice light and surgical as you open your own bag and tug out a tub of medicated massage cream.

Zoro stares for a second before the smile slips off his face to be replaced by a dull, knowing scowl. Still, he doesn’t argue as he flips onto his stomach and sighs, pillowing his cheek on his arms as he pouts at the wall.

“Like I told you — we need to take care of your shoulder first. Regionals are in two weeks. We can’t have you performing like you did tonight.”

Zoro attempts a glare over his shoulder as you carefully maneuver over his back and straddle his hips, warming your palms with the massage cream before setting to work.

“I still won.”

His voice is tight and petulant. You nod, sighing as you work your thumbs into the dip beneath his shoulder blade where you know he’s still sore. He hisses, jerking away from you. You pin him in place with your free arm and continue to roll your thumb across the bundle of muscle.

Two minutes in, you press a bit harder and he lets out a pitched whine that makes you pause in your ministrations.

“F-fuck —” he buries his face in his pillow, thumping a fist against his bed as you laugh and continue the massage, though taking care to be a bit more careful around his injury.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you climb off the bed and wipe your hands. Zoro groans, shifting to watch you with half-lidded eyes and color-stained cheeks.

“I know,” you say, holding up your hands, “that really hurt but you feel much better now, right?”

Zoro grins, sleepy as he blinks slowly up at you, “Yeah. Whatever.”

And then, a long moment later —

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft, flipping onto his side and shifting on the bed as if to make room for you, “stay.”

You freeze, almost unwilling to believe your own ears as you finish putting away your supplies. You glance at him with tight lips and hopeful eyes.

There’s a tiny grin threatening the corners of his lips as he sighs, making a show of yawning and stretching.

“It’s late… and I don’t really feel like walking you back.”

You fold your arms, “I could just call campus security to escort me.”

Zoro stills for a second but a moment later, he casts his eyes up at the ceiling, “Yeah… you could…”

You make no move to leave.

“But you still owe me coffee in the morning,” he says.

You frown, “Wait, what? How’s that?”

He glances at you, “I’ve bought you coffee twice.”

“Yeah, but I just gave you a free 30-minute medical massage treatment for your shoulder.”

“You would’ve had to do it anyway on Wednesday in Practical Applications.”

You narrow your eyes, “Professor Kureha might not have assigned me to you.”

At this, Zoro scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re the best, and so am I.”

“S-she might not have!” you say, though there’s no real conviction in your voice. You both know that he’s right.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He turns away from you, making as if to go to sleep.

You glare at his back, dropping your bag with a loud thump.

“If anything, you owe me coffee now. That massage was worth at least two coffees, if not more.” You plop down on the edge of his bed, scowling at the opposite wall.

Zoro is quiet for a beat too long and you chance a glance at him, only to find him peering you with a strangely indulgent look in his eyes. You blush, tearing your eyes away.

“How’s breakfast?” he asks, his voice once again going soft. Your skin prickles with heat.

“What about breakfast?”

“Coffee and breakfast. That enough to pay for the massage?”

You can’t help the smile that threatens to break across your lips as you glance back at him and catch his eyes.

“I…. guess.”

Zoro chuckles, the sound so low in his throat that it makes you shiver. Quick as anything, he reaches over to pull you down towards him, easily looping an arm around your middle and flipping you both so that you’re pinned beneath him. You barely have time to gasp before you find his lips on yours once more, slow and sweet and shockingly steady.

You kiss him back, letting him push you gently into the crumpled linens of his bed. His fingers are light as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, reaching behind your torso to loosen your bra and tug your shirt from you in a single, smooth motion.

You shiver beneath him and he pulls back to stare. You search his eyes, feeling suddenly uncertain.

“God, you’re gorgeous…”

Heat crests into your cheeks as you try to look away. But he tugs you back with his thumb and steals another kiss.

“It’s late…” he says, pulling away to press your foreheads.

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I know…”

“Let’s sleep in tomorrow.”

You laugh, shifting as he curls his body around you, tugging you easily against his chest and pulling the covers over you both. A moment later, the lights click off and you’re both thrown into darkness. You let yourself relax into his arms, wondering just how you’re going to explain this to Robin tomorrow.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Zoro’s voice murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You grin, nodding as you press further back into him and he grazes a soft kiss along your skin.

“That kinda thinking needs breakfast and coffee first,” you say, to which Zoro chuckles, nodding as he lets you hook your ankles between his, your bodies settling against each other, warm and perfect, the curves and bends meeting like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally, finally finding each other at last.

You don’t have long enough to ponder on the light, musk-salt-sweet of his skin or the way you can feel his heartbeat as it threads along your spine or the way that somehow, the shape of him doesn’t feel foreign against the shape of you, before you’re already falling asleep. And to him, he doesn’t have time to ponder the lovely silk of your hair, just as soft as he’d always imagined, or the way your waist feels perfect beneath his hands, or how he’s somehow he’s always known the rhythm of your breaths before he too is falling into the warm embrace of a dark, sweet, restful sleep as well.

nine.

Saturday morning finds you both tangled in each other, the winter sun bright and cold as it slates through the slits of Zoro’s bedroom window. He wakes up first, shifting to stretch until he feels the weight of you beside him. And then suddenly, he's somehow achingly awake and aware of his body against yours, of your paced breaths and his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. For one bewildering moment, he can’t quite remember what brought him here, and then the scenes from the night before — the bout, the lockers, the kiss — the way you’d tasted, how utterly irresistible you’d been, blushing in the dim light of his room, your skillful fingers digging into his tender, swollen flesh — his own rash promise of breakfast and coffee — it all comes rushing back. Zoro lets out a long breath and leans in to brush his lips along your forehead.

You let out a light groan as you shift in his arms, and when you turn, it’s to find him watching you.

“Oh… hey.”

Your voice is quiet, almost shy as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and he finds himself more endeared than he has words to say.

He clears his throat.

“Morning. Uh… sleep well?”

You laugh, the warmth of your expelled breath ghosting across his clavicle in a way that makes him shiver.

“Mhm… pretty well… and you?”

Zoro clears his throat, “Yeah. Guess it wasn’t… bad.”

He resists the urge to roll away, if only because your cheek is still pillowed on his arm, and he can’t bring himself to pull away from you just yet. So instead, he drops his nose into your hair and takes in the milky scent of your coconut lotion. Tiny, pin-pricks of desire shoot through him, teasing goosebumps into the skin of his back and arms, but he forces himself to lie still as you snuggle against his chest with a contented sigh.

“So… breakfast and coffee?”

Zoro grunts, “Hn. I did promise.”

You smile, letting yourself sink into the thick and syrup of his sleep-deepened voice, his moss-green hair even more tousled than it normally is as he adjusts his head on his pillow.

“Hey,” you say, breathless as you look up at him beneath the sweep of your lashes, your eyes so big and dark and wide Zoro wonders if they might swallow him whole.

“Hey,” he answers, just as breathless, uncertainty creeping up the center of his chest as he stares down at you, lying in the glistening, mercurial light, the bend of your shoulder kissed by the morning sun, the shape of you limned in silver and gold.

You lean up to kiss him before he has the chance to second-guess himself, and though he was the more bold, self-assured one last night, you press in against him this morning, the languid sweep of your tongue along his lips making him groan, helpless, against you. He tastes the satisfied grin at the corner of your mouth as he opens his own, his mind frizzing into gorgeous, white static as you spend what feels like hours exploring the sweet depths of each other's mouths — all tongue and teeth and kiss-swollen lips.

When finally you pull apart, he is more breathless than he’d planned for, his body too warm for his liking, an urgent, pulsing something burning at the base of his stomach as he fights the urge to shove you back and sink his teeth into your skin, to hear you hiss, to make you gasp, to leave the indent of his fingers along the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, to mark you as his in every way he knows how.

But instead, he places a lingering kiss on your cheek and sits up, slowly stretching his arms.

“Careful…” you warn, pushing yourself up as well, watching him, “how’s it feel?”

Zoro tests his right side, drawing his arm up and then to the side, and then pulling it across his torso.

“Whoa… so much better.”

You smile, satisfied.

Zoro chuckles, “Guess I really do owe you breakfast. C’mon.”

He slips out of bed, tugging open a drawer to toss you a thick sweater and a pair of sweatpants. For himself, he only tugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, even as you frown, squinting at him from where you’re nearly swimming in his clothes.

“You’ll freeze.”

Zoro smirks as he looks you over, reaching over to pull the hood over your mussed tangle of hair, “Nah, I’m fine.”

You pout, jerking open the drawer to pull out a sweater and tossing it at him.

“You have to keep your right side warm so your muscles don’t just seize up again.”

Zoro stares at the sweater in his hand, looking reluctant before you press your lips into an exaggerated pout.

“C’mon… I worked so hard on getting it better last night… please?”

Zoro groans, rolling his eyes as he tugs on the sweater.

“Yeah, yeah — fine. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for you, nor does he extend his hand. But the pair of you walk elbow to elbow, hip against hip down the bright dorm room hallway, into the chilly Saturday morning air.

“Geez, if you’re gonna yell at me to keep warm —” Zoro reaches over to tug on the drawstrings of your sweater, frowning as he notices how much skin he can still see beneath the opening of the hoodie.

You blush, tugging at it as the pair of you make your way across the empty campus quad.

Halfway across the frost-kissed lawn, he wordlessly reaches out to catch your hand in his, tucking your entwined fingers into the depths of his pocket. You bite back a stupid, dopey grin as you duck your head, quickening your pace to keep up, your footsteps crunching in the dew-bitten grass, the freshly raked gravel.

ten.

There’s already a decent line at the Straw Hats Cafe, but when the pair of you walk in hand in hand, both Sanji and Nami pause for a second longer than usual. Sanji’s eyebrows jerk up his forehead while Nami’s lips curl into a much too satisfied grin as she turns back to the humming espresso machines.

You savor in the smell of freshly ground coffee, absently tracing your thumb over the back of Zoro’s hand.

When you both reach the front, Sanji looks between you expectantly.

“Well, well, well — I’d like to say I’m surprised but —” he shrugs, grinning cheekily, “Well then I’d be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Zoro clicks his tongue but you shoot him a sheepish smile, pursing your lips.

“So… the usual then?” Sanji asks, his fingers poised over the register.

“Yep,” Zoro says, curt as ever, though there’s a distinct blush on his cheeks that not even he can write off as anything else.

You nod as well, “Oh, but… I think I’ll try a non-decaf latte this time. Just one shot of espresso though, please and thank you.”

Sanji blinks at you for a second before letting out a startled laugh and nodding, punching in your order.

“Coming right up, sweet cheeks. Right then, that’d be 8.75 for the latte and 5.50 for the double espresso.”

Zoro reaches into his wallet and pulls out a 20, slipping it across the counter. Down the bar, Nami is humming, looking cheerier than you’ve ever seen her this early in the morning as she goes about making your drinks.

Sanji sighs as he shakes his head, handing Zoro his change.

Zoro narrows his eyes but Sanji cuts him off.

“Take it from me, fam. You don’t wanna know.”

You and Zoro share a puzzled look as you both shuffle down to the pick-up counter, where Nami is sliding your finished drinks toward you with a bright, knowing glint to her eyes. Zoro clears his throat and reaches over for a packet of sugar, nonchalantly tipping it into his drink before picking it up to take a sip.

You try not to gape as you grab your own drink, flashing Nami a quick smile before turning to follow Zoro.

He picks a table as far away from the counter as possible, tucked into a corner, nearly invisible to the rest of the shop. When you sit down, he frowns at your chair for a second before reaching out to tug you across the floor till your chair is next to his. He goes back to his drink without a single word.

It’s all you can do to blush and stare at your steaming cup.

“I thought we were getting coffee and breakfast,” you say after a brief moment of silence.

Zoro grunts, “We are. Coffee first.”

You nod, somewhat mollified as you take another sip of your drink. The warmth trickles down your chest to rest somewhere in the center of your stomach, spreading heat throughout your body in waves.

“We could just get a chocolate croissant,” you say, giving Zoro a sidelong look.

Zoro frowns, tapping his finger against the side of his cup, “Dessert isn’t breakfast.”

You scoff, “Says who?”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Says me. And I’m payin’ for it.”

You purse your lips, wondering if you should argue more before deciding against it. A few seconds later, Zoro sighs, casting his eyes about the cafe interior.

“We can have a croissant after real breakfast.”

You giggle into your drink, swallowing down the glee fluttering in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your still kiss-chapped lips.

“Kay, whatever you say.”

Zoro rolls his eyes and folds his arms, but his elbow presses against yours and he doesn’t make to move away.

Across the cafe, Nami leans to watch the pair of you, Sanji at her side, looking both stunned and somewhat pained.

“C’mon man, it’s not even been a week!”

Nami grins, rinsing out a few cups and placing them mouth down to dry before pivoting on her heels and holding out an expectant palm. Sanji sighs as Nami’s eyes glitter with mirth and a hard-won glee.

“Right. I think you owe me fifty bucks.”

Sanji narrows his eyes, glancing back at where you and Zoro are tucked into the corner of the cafe.

“Double or nothing on when they’ll have their first fight. I say… not till next week.”

Nami’s eyebrows twitch up. She looks back at where the pair of you are now bickering over where to have breakfast. A smirk teases at her lips.

She puts down her hand, “Alright then… but like I said — it’s your funeral, Sanji.”

Over in the corner, there’s the dull scrape of chair legs as you push yourself away from the table to fold your arms.

“— Belgian waffles are absolutely an acceptable meal for breakfast!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, though there’s still an amused spark behind his eyes.

“Breakfast without eggs ain’t real breakfast. And doesn’t count if it’s smothered in syrup either.”

You make an indignant noise, frowning even as Zoro tugs you back to press a napkin to your upper lip, where there’s a faint line of whipped cream residue.

Sanji backpedals immediately, “Uh — right so, I feel like we need to define what really constitutes a ‘fight’, yeah?”

Nami tuts, shaking her head, “Nope! A bet’s a bet. Now pay up.”

feedback always welcome :) reqs are closed.

[igglemouse]

I start my morning off with a lot more energy and in such a better mood than before. Yes, it is because of what happened last night and it is at least double the effect since it had been quite some time for me and...let's just say I look forward to it happening again.

It was so good that I start my day off with a salad as if last night made me feel guilty. Eat well, live well, think well, be well...something like that, right? That feels like some random quote that would be on some welcome mat or something.

I think the feeling was mutual. When I wake up there was Niklas still beside me, the presence of him was...comfortable. Like he belonged there so I was happy that he decided to stay the night. That this wasn't just a fleeting moment and that maybe it can be more. Let me have my delusions, please!

So instead of shooing him away when the sun comes up I give him a key to the house and let him know he can come over any time he wants. Might seem a little rash but he just feels right?

What do I even have to lose? I've been wanting to make deeper connections with people, I've been wanting a little more in my life, and here he is. So why deny it or hold it back? I mean there is nothing like waking up with someone you enjoy and sharing a breakfast together is there?

"So, what is it that you actually do?" I ask, pushing some more of a pretty bland salad into my mouth. The news droning on in the background, just noise, just another theme to what might be another quiet day.

"I told you, it's just small magic. Practical magic, it's nothing fancy-"

"No, I mean outside of that. Since magic isn't the center of your world you have a job, right."

"Oh, I'm a doctor," he says as if it is no big deal.

I stare at him and blink a few times because did the world just drop a doctor into my lap? "A...doctor?"

"Wait..." excuse me for still being a little shocked. I feel like the main character right now, am I the main character? MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY! "Do you use magic when you..."

"Oh, no! No! That is forbidden, as you know," he says with a laugh. "I should clarify, I'm practicing medicine, not actual doctor. Yet."

Ah, okay, now that is more realistic. A girl can't be too fortunate I suppose. "I'm sure with dash of magic you could be? A little mind control here, a little luck spell there?" he shakes his head but he is laughing at least!

He's getting up to leave to presumably go back to his life. A life I know nothing about but one I am curiously more curious to understand. I think there is more to this man than he lets on, I mean, he does carry around a magic destiny watch. That has to be rare right? Maybe passed down to the first born of his family or something?

Before he leaves he has one more thing to say. "Just remember, you don't need magic. Ninety-nine percent of people get by in life just fine without it, so don't let this whole exile thing get you down."

"Easy for you to say," I reply a little too harshly but that is the truth. It's not true that people are doing just 'fine' without magic, the truth is, magic could help a lot of people and the Realm witholds a lot of it...okay, okay, don't think those thoughts Grace. Those are dangerous thoughts.

"We practice magic for people that can't use it," his tone is serious now, maybe he picks up on what I am thinking. It's not that unpopular you know. There are so many spells to help crops grow for instance, think of the good that can do for many people? Yet the Realm- "We do it to protect the world from those would harm regular, everyday people. Evil spirits, vampires, shifters, if you would believe it the Realm currently thinks there are aliens among us who seek to conquer us."

Ok, now that is funny! I smile, holding back a laugh because while I do believe in vampires (because I've met one) Aliens don't exist. Duh. "The world is definitely a dangerous place once you walk through that door," is really all I could think to say. There are many realities people aren't aware of and so many creatures and beings hiding behind The Veil.

Niklas eyes lock onto mines now, his expression hardens just for a moment. "And sometimes, they burst through it."

"Speaking of doors," Niklas transitions from a sorta serious conversation to a farewell. "I should be going through yours erm...I mean your front door!" his cheeks color at that and the man just added a few more thousand points in his favor. "Anyway! I look forward to seeing you again!"

"Me too!"

He offers me a hug which I'm super happy to accept and Watcher his hugs always feel so comfortable!

I'm really not sure what to do with the rest of my time today as that familiar sense of aimlessness takes hold of me. So I fall back into the familiar, collecting.

It's not glamourous for sure and it's not even really a career but it's something I've gotten into the habit of doing. Chipping away at rocks, picking up herbs, wandering through Windenberg with the hope that one day I'll run into something special.

That doesn't happen today. Today its just the usual dusty old rocks and common wild berries that fill my pockets. There is always tomorrow I guess.

It actually is a pretty nice day so there is no point wasting it all away with collecting. So I called Triple V and invited her to the cafe since we haven't caught up in a few days and now that I think about it I have a lot to tell her. I did meet a random handsome guy after all.

Knowing her I'm sure she has just as much to say to me. With VVV there's always some story or wild scheme running through that head of hers, it's really never a dull moment with her.

"One latte, please! Wait, no, make that two! She'll have what I'm having," yeah, she would order for me. She likes to take charge and she likes making decisions. "Grace! My Grace! We meet again! I thought you were too busy for little old Vee!"

"Huh? You know me, I wasn't doing anything at all."

"Oh, you little liar! You're a lot busier than you let on!" she nudges me playfully in that way of hers and I can't help but to smile and chuckle. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and her spirit is sure to make this a delightful conversation.

"Nope, nothing at all Vee," but I admit to saying that with a sheepish grin.

"And that is the problem, isn't it?" She says, there is an excitement in her eyes, a look I'm too familiar with when it comes to her. It's usually not good and spells trouble with a capital T. "You have sooo much potential, Grace, we both do-"

"Are we really going to talk about this here and now Vee?"

"Yes? We must," insistence, it's taken over her voice now. We're definitely going to talk about it. I was hoping to talk about Niklas and get her thoughts on him but... "I think it's time we take control of our futures, of our, you know..." she says in a hushed voice. It's not proper to talk about magic openly in public you know.

We find a cozy corner of the cafe, far enough for a private conversation but of course if we were really skilled maybe we could put some kind of privacy bubble around us or something? Is that possible? Anything is possible with magic, rich? Either way, once we settle into our seats I can tell she is ready to burst and eventually she does.

"It's the Matlock Society, Grace, what do you know about it?" She asks in a hushed tone, leaning in just a little.

"Umm, nothing, other than that it is the second time you've brought it up and it is named after my family for some reason."

"But it is a lot more than that, Grace. The Matlock society is determined to unlock the magical potential of all of us rejects. Of everyone the Realm denies," she says. There is a fervor here and a wild look to her eyes that I do not like. But this is Vee. My best friend. My only true friend. My sister, basically. She's just excited about something new, she's always like this.

"The Realm denies prospects for plenty of reasons," I try to be the sane one here, try to stay grounded. "Besides, the people the Realm denies don't even know they have been denied unless they are part of a magical family like us-"

"Grace-"

"Valerie Van Vilet, you seem a little unhinged about all of this?" Okay, I had to be blunt and me doing so causes her to pause. Hopefully she's processing this like the intelligent and critical woman I know she is. I understand, we are both denied something we are born with, a right, even, but this whole thing looks like a suspicious white van with 'Free Candy' scribbled on the side.

"What is this about, Vee? Okay, so the Matlock Society unlocks our 'potential' or whatever, then what? Do they do this for free, what do they ask for in return?" I continue on because I can tell maybe I've interjected some doubt into her mind.

"Nothing but your loyalty to their cause, that's it."

"And their cause is????" ugh, doesn't she hear herself?

"Grace look, I'm not asking you to join but I am asking you to consider. We are having a meeting, later tomorrow night, and I'd love for you to come. You can just spectate, that's all, and then you can decide from there if it's something you'd give a try."

"Alright..."

Yeah, I'll see what it's about. I've been doing more riskier things so why not? Besides, Triple V has been a dear friend so I'm sure she means well and if there is something wrong with this 'Matlock' society maybe I can pull her out of it? Keep your enemies close kind of thing?

She leaves satisfied and I decide to have one more drink for the go. Hopefully I'm not getting myself into anything I can't get myself out of.

Either way, it's back home for me, and I was a little shocked to find Niklas already there. Forgot that I had given him a key to a place, that was that this morning?

Any ways, he seems pretty comfortable in my space, as if he's been here for a while, but then again I did ask for this. Things are moving fast with this but maybe that is because it is destiny?

"So umm, are you going to be here often?" I ask, a little unsure about this suddenly. I do want him to be here, I do, there is something that pulls me to him after all, yet still, should I believe in fate and destiny? Especially when it comes to relationships?

His reply his a shrug at first, looking down at his watch again, as if that is to blame. "I go where it tells me to go and just try my best to figure out why. It wants me to be here, I think..."

"I'd love a watch like that but I guess it doesn't tell time very well," I say with a chuckle, and he of course agrees with that.

"Telling time is truly overrated," Niklas says in that thoughtful tone of his. Is everything overrated to him? "There's the past, the future, and the present, and the latter is the only thing that matters."

I chuckle again, giving my head a little shake at his philosophy. It's cute. "I think you should be a poet." little "Maybe you should have been a poet?"

"Now that doesn't pay nearly as well as becoming a doctor"

As our conversation continues I start to notice that he's getting closer to me. Not just the physical contact like his leg brushing ever so slightly against mines or how his arm is also wandering nearer, but there is a connection forming. A bond.

So while we talk about regular every day things, life, work, the weather, it all starts to feel like something more. We just start talking about things. Like he wants to know what my big plans are (outside of magic of course) and I tell him I don't have many. I make Jewelry, that's it, and I guess I blog as well?

He tells me that I really should look for something more solid in life, something more concrete, something I can hold on to and always rely on and I'm starting to think maybe he's talking about himself.

We honestly don't talk for too long though because we decided to put our lips to better use...

Episode List - Next

[hauntsthenarrative]

1, 8 and 10 for yellowjackets 👀

HEY MOOTIEEEE okok;

The character everyone gets wrong - I feel like people misunderstand so many of the characters (as an ex Misty hater who didn't understand the mechanics of a black box I have been guilty of this), but I think the main one is Natalie. I've seen a lot of people complain about how her character is largely based around Travis, but the whole point of it is to demonstrate her trauma-bonding habits and how she EVENTUALLY GROWS OUT OF THAT. While we didn't get a chance to see healed Nat apart from the S2 finale, the show explores how you have this loner girl, who's included with the team and her two friends but at the same time reclusive, with a horrific family life that prevents her from truly connecting with others (ex. Kevin, who she probably never invited over to her house to bond or otherwise EVER again), and a sex life with men who have only used her for her body. You bring her into this situation where she's stranded with the only girls who truly notice her and a guy - Travis, who has an asshole dad who is just lost. Travis keeps people at arm's length, he's got this turmoil inside of him, he's angry and isn't afraid to show it. And Nat is drawn to him because she NEVER gets to be angry- she had to be careful around her dad and take care of her mom. And she sees her inner thoughts in this guy so much. Natalie wants to be there for him in the same way that no one could ever be there for her, and it's someone she can connect with on a personal level, not someone who wants her for her body, not someone who will never understand her, not someone who will idealize her and see her for her beauty. And just as suddenly she's taking bullets FROM this guy and she's falling into the same pattern as her mother, even becoming her. But she stays with Travis for so long, because she doesn't see her father, she sees herself. And so she bonds with him, she sticks with him, she destroys him just as much as he destroys her because she wants to punish herself, and Travis, in many ways, IS her. But the problem is that Travis is also her dad, and she wants so badly to love and hate herself, that she doesn't know he's the one holding all the cards. When she loses him, she loses herself, her other half, her purpose in life, and then he dies and she will never have him in her life again. So in S2, this man who she has projected herself onto, it turns out, really isn't a part of her at all. They are 2 separate puzzle pieces painfully glued together, but they can be separated. That's why Natalie isn't with Travis on the plane to her death. She's with her younger self. Because all along, it wasn't Travis that she truly loved and accepted, and who loved and accepted her. It was the parts of her she had lost and had finally gained back.

Jesus I yapped on the first one so I'm gonna make the next one shorter. For number 8, I think people are wrong about Ben. Do I think it was awful he lit the cabin on fire? Yes, obviously that's fucked up. But this is a man who needs more food than the rest and hasn't eaten for literal weeks at this point. He is anxious, schizophrenic, and totally anti-cannibalism. He just witnessed his only 'friend' (Nat) let a CHILD die in her place and be crowned a fucked up cult leader queen for a group of insane women (and Travis). He is horrified. He is scared. He is on his last leg. Like I said, lighting the cabin on fire was horrific, but whose to say he was next? So I think it can be justified a bit in many extents.

Finally, for number 10, I'm sorry to all my Van loving mutuals, but i genuinely HATE her. I know she's starving and unreasonable but I feel like her character got really fucked up towards the ends of season 1 and the entirety of season 2. Fanon acts like she's the greatest ever but she literally told a guy whose brother she had JUST LET DIE that he was being selfish, and that she didn't regret letting a little boy die when there was a USELESS, CULTISH, HALF DEAD BITCH who was WILLING AND READY to be consumed if necessary that was offering herself up for food. Javi's whole death was fucking bullshit and literally horrific. They let Jackie sleep outside and consumed her dead body but couldn't allow an ailing Lottie to just die when she was already injured? And Van EXCUSING that behavior and on top of that TAUNTING a fellow survivor about the fact they were going to fucking eat his little brother? I feel sick. All the girls are fucked, but Van is especially shitty, and fanon needs to stop making her out to be a fucking perfect angel.

[julia-bunncat]

Shuichi's Love Hotel {LSE} | Shinsai version

Hey, hey, is that the second part of this post?! Unbelievable…

Over a year ago, I did this post here... And now I am officially ready to present to you the full version [so that my intention can finally be understood correctly], using my OT3 of course.

I'll make a little remark before I start, and give a commentary at the end!

The blue text shows the thoughts of the main character (Korekiyo), just like in the original game. You can either read the text version below , or take a look at this google-doc [https://clck.ru/3Ehn5n] to check out the sprites I've chosen specifically for the immersive feel of the game. To read the Shinsai Event, just click on the headline to the right! Both actions would be appreciated, as I've put a lot of work into the google-doc!

Go ahead!~

Kiyo: Whenever this quaint key falls into my hands, at night I find myself here. Kiyo: My role here is to become someone's ideal, a romantic partner… Kiyo: And though I already have someone in my heart, I must admit that it's an entertaining experiment. Kiyo: What depths of humanity's beauty would be revealed to me this time? Kiyo: Shuichi is a dear friend of mine. For his sake, I'll try to be especially delicate. Shuichi: Thanks for coming, Kiyo. Kiyo: You’re welcome. It's always a pleasure for me to talk with you, Shuichi. Kiyo: And I don't even have to lie in this situation. Shuichi: Yeah, he-he... It's mutual. I know we can discuss a lot of things together. You have an opinion on any topic. Shuichi: But today is exactly the day when I want... to discuss something really important. Kiyo: Oh. And what is it? Kiyo: The look on his face... It really is highly intriguing, my imagination’s running riot. Shuichi: It’s about us. Tell me what you're hiding. Kiyo: *ting!* …! Kiyo: Hiding..? Kiyo: I don't know what you're talking about, Shuichi. Shuichi: I’m sorry… But no. You know exactly what I mean. Shuichi: You and I have been together for quite some time, and that's why I can't risk the bond we've formed. Shuichi: You always knew how to distract me from my own thoughts… could always tell me something that made me look at the situation deeper, from a different perspective. Shuichi: I appreciate your gentleness and consideration towards me. Shuichi: But every time it was about you or your feelings, you rushed to change the subject. Shuichi: And yet your eyes… So bright and tender… Each time, a deep sadness was reflected in them. Shuichi: If I'm wrong, please feel free to correct me – I'll believe you. Shuichi: But if it's true… Is there really nothing I can do to help you..? Kiyo: So that’s what is it… He sounded so desperate right now. Ah, it's so beautiful, I can hardly resist… Kiyo: Well, you've proved that there's no point in hiding anything from you. Kiyo: But are you really sure that it’s worth it? Kiyo: It's not about you, Shuichi. What if I haven't decided to tell you yet, because I'm afraid of losing our connection as well? Kiyo: After all, there may be something lurking in the depths of human consciousness that even the whole world can't bear… Shuichi: No, that’s wrong! Kiyo: Before I knew what exactly he was denying, I felt his thin, graceful palm squeeze mine. Shuichi: Whatever you tell me… I assure you, it won't affect my attitude towards you. Shuichi: I'd like to get to know you better, Kiyo. I’m always ready to listen to anything you say. It's worth it. Shuichi: You are worth it. Kiyo: For a moment, I felt a flutter in my soul… No, there is no place in my heart for anyone else. I can’t, I mustn't… Kiyo: Sh-shuichi… Shuichi: Open your heart to me. Shuichi: Please understand: I'm only doing this because you're very valuable to me… Shuichi: You're more valuable than anything I already have. There's nothing to be afraid of, as you once said yourself… Kiyo: …Are you really willing to listen? Shuichi: Yeah. I'm always up for it. Kiyo: The strength of his feelings was blinding. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so careless… Kiyo: Is it real or a dream? Is she seeing all this? Kiyo: Then… I will tell you. Kiyo: But don't forget that I warned you. If you hadn't earned the approval in the first place, it wouldn't have been possible. Kiyo: I'll have no regrets or remorse, it was a choice… Kiyo: The expression on Shuichi's face became even more serious. Shuichi: I'm listening, Kiyo. Kiyo: Our fingers were still intertwined when I started to tell my story…

______________________________

I like the result of this version much more already! The volume is sufficient, their dialogue is more natural and considered, and instead of a formulaic drama, we have a serious but still gentle Shuichi:

So I wouldn't change anything here, no matter who says what, hehe.

The purpose of this text was, for the most part, to show Shuichi’s ideal as I see it. They is still the same gender-neutral person ‘with a core’ who has been in a relationship with Saihara for some time and has been supportive and proactive in every way possible.

However, this ‘core person’ tends to hide behind their confidence/principles/beliefs; tends to show that they feels better than they really does. Over time, this begins to bother Shuichi. He feels that something very important is being hidden from him, and he can’t continue to ignore it — either as a good partner or as a detective.

So in the love-hotel storyline, Shuichi finally decides to talk to this person and get them to trust him. So, I emphasise that you can fit almost any DR character under this formula, as long as they’re not completely weak-willed / indifferent / easy-going.

I’m even thinking of writing a version with some more characters in the future (the same Kaito, for example) or I can accept requests. The formula and phrases will be repeated, but the outcome and context will change depending on the character used.

The choice of Korekiyo for those, who not familiar with my blog, may seem rather unobvious in the context of all of the above…

But can we really argue that he doesn't have the necessary "core" just because of his trauma? I think that in a friendship with Shuichi (and by my concept, they've already gone through all the Free Time Events together), Kiyo can be a supportive party too. It's just, the ways he has… is peculiar and sometimes eccentric ;D

Kiyo took Shuichi's love hotel quite seriously, precisely because he valued their friendship. If you're wondering what he's going to share with Saihara, of course I was referring to the "sister situation". After all, neither during the FTE nor during the Salmon Team dates, Shinguji won't admit that his sister is dead, and he's, well… /sigh/ we all know what.

so yeah, maybe Shuichi will soon regret those words ;;

Well, let's hope they can get this problem sorted out together anyway!

oh, and yes, here I'm alluding to Love Hotel with Shuichi-MC and Kiyo. Shuichi remembers everything, and Kiyo doesn't even realise, yeah 👀

Thank you all for reading guys! <3 I'll probably still continue this thread and I hope I'll be able to post my content here a little more often.

[just--vi]

2023 in fanfic!!

i wrote my first full fanfic in 2023 after coming back to fandom after a long hiatus. in all i've written over 240,000 words which is just nuts. it made me some incredible friends and incredible mutuals who i hope to turn into friends. i started with the loves of my life (wolfstar!!) and discovered some new loves (jegulus has the key to my heart) and came up with a million future fic ideas

goals for 2024 include: write something that isn't a muggle au, convince everyone to ship moonchaser (jk... or am i), write more smutty one shots, read more!!! (gimme your best recs)

if you'd like to see what i've written, click below...

love by the seaside - april 23 / august 23

Remus is an artist who, after a particularly messy breakup, finds himself drawn to the Cornish coast. His fresh start is disrupted, however, when he meets someone who reminds him an awful lot of his ex-boyfriend. (multi-chapter, complete, 42,126 words, wolfstar with background jily)

you're losing me - may 23

Although they're desperate not to, Remus and Sirius just can't quite keep from falling apart. (one-shot | 3,898 | wolfstar | canon compliant)

young blood - may 23 / november 23

After Regulus spends a difficult year alone with their parents, Sirius convinces him to spend his last summer before college on a road trip with him and his closest friends. The very last thing he's expecting is for his feelings for Sirius' best friend to resurface with a vengeance (and he certainly isn't expecting them to be returned). As it turns out, he and James aren't the only ones dealing with complicated emotions. Sirius has just returned from a year long trip abroad and Remus is having a difficult reconciling with just how much he's missed him. Or, a coming of age road trip AU full of angst, fluff, healing family trauma and navigating old feelings. (multi-chapter | complete | 71,029 words)

a weekend at crystal lake - october 23 / october 23

A group of recent college graduates set off to a cabin in the woods for one last hurrah before going their separate ways. As the weekend goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that they aren't alone out there. This is horror-themed AU featuring our favourite Marauders where (almost) everyone dies. This is a fic written for Halloween, with scheduled weekly (sometimes twice weekly) updates until October 31st. Enjoy! It's basically angst and smut with a little bit of fluff as a treat. (multi-chapter | complete | 24,166 words)

under the glow of neon lights - november 23

Pure smut. Regulus, Remus, and James fuck in a dingy club bathroom (and then carry on fucking at home xo). (one-shot | 4,429 words | remus x regulus x james)

the weather outside is frightful - december 23 / december 23

James takes it upon himself to drag Regulus home for Christmas and an unexpected snow storm rolls in, stranding them together over the holiday with no lights, no power, and no heat. (multi-chapter | 15,726 | jegulus )

for the love of ducks - september 23 / present

Remus Lupin has always been sick, and he'd just like to feel normal for once. Sirius Black seems like the perfect man with a perfect, exciting life. (multi-chapter | ongoing | wolfstar with background jily)

where the light gets in - july 23 / present

Remus Lupin splits from the Marauders after a bitter feud with frontman Sirius Black; Famous brothers Sirius and Regulus Black haven't set foot in the same room in seven years; Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes enter a rivalry for the ages… at least, that’s the media’s side of the story. Scandal, heartbreak, and bitter rivalries. But how much truth is there to the rumours? (multi-chapter | ongoing | wolfstar, jegulus, dorlene centric)

the little blue house on main street - november 23 / present

A coming of age university AU in which Regulus Black struggles to navigate his feelings for his brother's best friend, Sirius Black struggles to navigate his sexuality, and the whole lot of them struggle to navigate growing up. (multi-chapter | ongoing | wolfstar, jegulus, pandalily/marylily)

[lewiswhatshisname]

I suppose I ought to introduce myself

I like taking photos with odd cameras. I am by no means a professional. I just have loads of cameras I've picked up second hand from various places, and like mucking about with them in different ways.

Right off the bat, I don't care about taking the perfect shot. That's boring to me. While I don't go out with the goal of intentionally taking wonky shots – I do actually try to make sure each shot is focused and exposed properly – quite a lot of my cameras are broken or weird in some way. My main film camera technically works, in that the lens attached to it is in good nick, and when I push the shutter button, it goes click. But the shutter fires inconsistently, and will often misfire at the lightest touch, it doesn't really fire at the speeds it's set to, the ISO dial is loose as hell and is always changing itself, and even if it wasn't doing that, the light meter really has no idea what light is in the first place.

It really only gets better from here. All of my cameras have some sort of physical malady by dint of being second hand, and in many cases, straight up antique, or because they're Holgas and have a deliberately imperfect design. I've got a couple of "toy cameras" as well, with cheap plastic lenses that make any given shot look a bit weird. None of these categories are mutually exclusive either.

But I also just like to do terrible things to both my cameras and the film I shoot on. My favourite thing to do is shove the wrong format film into the cameras. Sometimes I don't feel like cutting down film to fit into my 127 cameras, so I'll cram a 35mm roll in there. Or I'll stick one into one of my 120 or 620 cameras just for the hell of it. I like to redscale film, soup it, and just generally fuck it up before and after shooting. When I develop the film here at home, I don't put a lot of attention into making sure everything is perfect down to the tenth of a degree and to the second. I am not that fussed about any of it, frankly. As long as the roll comes out of the tank with photos on it, I'm happy. If they're messed up, whatever. That's part of the fun.

Right now, I'm slowly working through uploading my backlog over here. I've got even more photos on deviantART, and I post them to Patreon a month before I put them anywhere else. I also try to remember to put prints up, but that's a whole process on its own. In addition to uploading my backlog, I've been spending much of my time just working on scanning and editing a whole other backlog of negatives.

And according to Lightroom, right now that comes down to nearly 400 photos that I've yet to post, and a further 5,000-odd that I've not even looked at for editing. Plus the five or six rolls sitting on my printer waiting to be scanned.

You'll find a mix of birdwatching and urban photography, along with some random other things. I have favourite subjects I like to go back to again and again, and you'll get used to seeing them through a variety of lenses.

TL;DR, I take a lot of photos, many of them odd or wonky, and I'm never going to be done with this backlog. And the photos I have in Lightroom are only from the last few years. Multiple hard drive crashes have caused me to lose all of my digital photos a few times over.

Current Gear:

Canon EOS Elan II E (35mm)

Canon EOS Rebel XT (dSLR)

Fujifilm Instax Mini 90 (instant film)

Holga 135BC (35mm)

Holga 120 WPC Panoramic Pinhole (120)

Kodak Jiffy Six-20 (620)

Kodak Brownie Target Six-20 (620)

Kodak Brownie Starmatic II (127)

Kodak Brownie Starflex (127)

Kodak Ektar H35 (35mm)

Kodak Ektar H35N (35mm)

Minolta Maxxum 3000i (35mm)

Minolta Maxxum 8000i (35mm)

Pentax MG (35mm)

Ricoh KR-5 Super II (35mm)

Sawyer's Nomad 620 (120/620)

Super Ricohflex (120/127/35mm)

Plus photos from a variety of iPhones

[wttcsms]

sorry if you're not comfortable answering this, but I saw you say that you've been diagnosed with depression. how did you know when to seek help?

tl;dr: from a young age, i never lived a healthy lifestyle with an easy pace. i (and maybe even my family) put too much pressure on me, and i never really coped with it in a healthy manner. my attempt at handling things "with ease" and "not stressing" was actually just me bottling up my emotions, and it's not until things started getting really bad that i finally sought help.

nothing uncomfy abt it at all! discussion of mental health is pretty important! tbh, i never thought i would have depression or be diagnosed with it; i started showing symptoms for around a year before i started really thinking to myself, hey, i think there might be something up with me mentally and this isn't just some silly, quirky thing i'm going through. ever since i was around 18, i went through great lengths to ensure i would achieve maximum academic success but while being a full-time college student and consistently working 60+ hours a week (70+ during the summer bc my junior year internship was so intense; i also went to college 2 years early, so i think that's when the internal pressure to "do well in life" began) was taking a massive toll on me mentally and physically. i would survive off of 4-5 hours of sleep, consume concerning amounts of caffeine, i was losing hair, i was losing drastic amounts of weight, i was breaking out and breaking down, and even when i got better, i still wasn't fully ever healed from that experience purely bc my schedule just never slowed down.

i am still a full-time student, i am still working 7 days a week, leading to 60+ hours (40 hours internship, 20 hours at my weekend part-time job). on top of that, i am in the second to last semester of my grad school, i help out around the house bc after my older sister moved out, i took over the eldest daughter duties, i am still holding myself to a very high standard academically (already planning to apply to phd programs, studying for the cpa exam, already have another summer internship lined up). i knew things were getting bad because 1) i am finally older (im abt to turn 21! yay!) and i realized that the lifestyle i'm living isn't healthy and 2) a lot of my behaviors didn't feel "normal" to me anymore. it finally hit me around two months ago, when i realized that i sort of lost my love for fanfiction. i've been in a weird mood where i didn't want to read any fanfic whatsoever, but i chalked it up to being "too busy" and focused on other things. when i couldn't even find the energy to read my own mutual's fanfic, i knew something was up bc i always try to power through and remain enthusiastic on my friends' behalf. more behaviors that were a cause for concern:

my disinterest in everything that brought me joy previously. sweet treats at the end of the day, coffee before work, buying makeup from sephora, cleaning my room (sounds silly, but i love having a clean living space and cleaning my room used to be a source of peace and joy for me), writing fanfiction, reading books, watching youtube videos, catching up on shows that would release weekly and that i used to count down the days to watch — none of it held my interest. i wasn't excited, i didn't care.

it wasn't just a lack of joy from things i loved, either. rejections from programs i looked forward to/rejections from opportunities, abysmal grades in class, looming deadlines that i most likely wouldn't make, growing assignments on my work to-do list; none of this elicited a reaction from me. there was no stress (that i was feeling; subconsciously, i think the stress was still there and i just refused to acknowledge it), but there also wasn't disappointment or sadness. i had no emotional response to anything, and that was very concerning to me, and the main reason i contacted my sister and then her boyfriend (who is a licensed psychiatrist)

i could sleep for 12+ hours a day. there are many days in the week where all i want to do is rot in bed. not even in a "go on my phone and dick around in bed" type of way, either. i would have certain days where i couldn't leave the bed. sometimes, i wouldn't even feel tired, but i would just sleep. my internship is wfh and if it was a slow day with no assignments, i would clock in and spend that whole day in my bed, sleeping. it got to the point where i wish work was busy so i would have something to force me out of bed. yes, i would be aware of my tiredness sometimes, but this felt different altogether. i just wanted to basically hibernate lol.

i had constant headaches. i thought it was because of the nature of my job, where i look at computer screens all day, or maybe it was bc i wasn't drinking enough water. i would also get unexplainable cramps sometimes.

tmi, but little to no pleasure and an extreme decline in interest in sex

i had extreme issues with focusing on work and studying; a lot of my work (and school materials) centers around thinking through problems and applying tax law or guidance to certain situations.

my diet fluctuated; some days, i wouldn't want to eat, yesterday, i gorged myself on food, eating to the point where even i had to pause and go wtf.

not very often was i randomly sad, nor did i ever want to kill myself or self-harm; when i was a teenager (17/18) and probably showing signs of depression, i was very irritable, angry, sad, and had suicidal thoughts, thought i was worthless, an idiot, etc. however, i mostly just feel empty and apathetic during my episodes now.

what helped me seek help was knowing that my behaviors and how i was feeling didn't feel healthy, but also, my best friend recently shared her diagnosis with me and i would have never thought she would be depressed. my sister's bf was also a major help in getting me comfortable to consider the possibility of having a mental illness and also in finding someone to talk to. hope this helps!

edit: forgot to mention it, but i exhibited many/all of those symptoms for around the past 3 months before ever seeking help. those behaviors started manifesting tremendously and seriously disrupting my daily life, and i knew i needed to do something to get my life back on track.

[ghooostbaby]

was tagged by @muigiel ^^

nine albums or songs I've been listening to lately x nine people I’d like to get to know better x tag game with no name

1. why did you choose your url? i heard "ghost baby" could be a translation of wei ying (from mdzs) and i really loved that vibe

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them. @revengegarden which i use to put art inspiration in.

3. how long have you been on tumblr? i think i first joined when it was in beta in like 2009! i didnt really know how to use it though. i used it intermittently over the years to post silly poetry and save stuff from the internet i enjoyed. i never really interacted with anyone or understand how that worked. i made a new account in 2020 when i got interested in fandom stuff during pandemic lockdown times..

4. do you have a queue tag? no

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? well i answered that above kind of ... i've always sort of gotten weird obsessed with whatever i'm watching or reading, no one else i knew really had the same level and that i remember during the first weeks of lockdown searching stuff on what i was watching instead of bothering uninterested people about it and ended up on tumblr looking at fan art of zuko and sokka :P and all these people losing it over fictional characters i was like ... i think i'm home? so i got a tumblr to participate in it more.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp? my name is from wei wuxian so i wanted a pic of him! he was sort of my main blorbo at the time making this account, and he truly captured my heart when he was all red-eyed insane with rage playing his demon flute

7. why did you choose your header? i don't know what my header is haha

8. what’s your post with the most notes? i'm not sure exactly, but i think the last 'annual stats' thing tumblr shared was a feverish cumplane head canon i posted. i also get notes every day on a recent post about wu ming fanon vs canon. but actually my looooong ranting meta about wei wuxian and lan wangji is probably the most notes. but reading that meta makes me want to hide under a rock encountering my past self

9. how many mutuals do you have? a couple

10. how many followers do you have? o.o

11. how many people do you follow? a few hundred i think?

12. have you ever made a shitpost? *looks up definition of shitpost* no

13. how often do you use tumblr each day? probably an hour a day just scrolling on my phone when i'm too tired to do anything else... i've had a job this summer that has been brutally long hours and tiring so i'm not in the mood to sit at my computer much

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? sometimes haha. listen, sometimes people have takes that are so bad i have to say SOMEthing. then i get so terrified of being yelled at i delete everything or ignore tumblr for 2 weeks or ask @muigiel if people are being mean in my notes hahaha

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts ummmmm

16. do you like tag games? it's nice to be tagged! atm i usually don't have time when i receive them and then the notification passes and i forget, this one i put in my drafts though

17. do you like ask games? love to be a part of one one day T.T idk maybe more people would send me asks if i turned on anon but a year or so ago i started getting all these terfs harassing me in my asks (must be doing something right?) so i turned off anon. one actually was mad enough to send me a death threat (?!) from their account so i was able to report them

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? haha i don't have many, just all of us small fish swimming together.. but i think a lot of people in danmei fandoms really love what @baiwu-jinji posts :) although i think they're not super active rn or we're not on at the same times

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? no but if you're in love with me let me know! i wouldn't be opposed to a tumblr romance :P

20. what is the last song you listened to? hmmmm i think i was listening to a Grouper album last

21. what are you currently watching? i wanted to find something new to watch that had perfect gorgeous visuals of beautiful outside places and ended up watching Orlando last night

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy? all!

23. what is your current relationship status? single

24. what is your current obsession? tgcf, he xuan, yin yu, maurice (film & reading the book)

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

maurice soundtrack !!

80s dancey music bc my taste definitely gears towards lyricless and traditonal/folk music but i've been working with kids who all want to listen to justin bieber all the time so trying to get some fun pop music i can also enjoy (i just hate the sounds of contemp pop music sorry, somehow it feels so... digital? data-driven? written by AI?) - and actually have found madonna is soooo good.

and then relistening to old favourites... yesterday i was enjoying my rock n roll romance playlist which has david bowie, bauhaus, wanda jackson (tunnel of love), suicide (cheree), roy orbison, dead or alive

if you want to take a look inside my brain https://www.nts.live/shows/cantus-orbis

tag 9 people.. uhh. how about just @unfotp @marloviandevil @baiwu-jinji but no obligation!

[starswallowingsea]

Thoughts on enstars?

i like this game a normal amount

i downloaded it on a whim after seeing one of my mutuals post about it shortly after the english release and we talked a little about it. i unlocked like half of the date plan atoz story (like i said, early. that's the second event EVER in the !! era) and thought it was cute or whatever and then kind of played motor show but it wasn't until i gave up on genshin that i really got into the game. i think i was reading chapter 2 of the main story and had just met rinne and was like oh i need to know what this guy's deal is and was dead set on going for his night club card when that event came out.

and then night club came out and i was a goner. that event changed me. it was my first time i think i seriously read any of the event stories and cared about what was going on and i really started brain rotting over rinne specifically and then eventually somewhere along the way i started really liking the rest of the bees too, i think after the release of chapter 5 of the main story and seeing kohaku go on stage and talk about how much he wishes they had gotten closer before rinne and niki had taken off and how they had all been able to come together for such a short time and still do something with their performances.

i read meteor impact early in the fall semester, i remember i spent a full day after class for like 5 hours just slogging through all whatever 50 some odd chapters of it and just losing my mind. and then i read checkmate i think over two days and the same thing. i've read a few other stories since then that were more filler stories but still gave me a greater sense of the world and the characters who are just so. there's 49 of these fuckers and there's a guy for everyone i swear i've been assigning my friends enstars characters on discord and lose my mind over different ones every week lmao. they feel like real people and real friendships that go through real problems and ugh. madara is one of the characters i connected with most with regards to leaving my childhood religion.

like yeah we joke about this game being absolutely insane and there being a lot of weird out of context moments that make others stop and pause and ask what the hell is going on but at the end of the day, the writers clearly have a story they want to tell and love the game just as much as the fans. the fact that they incorporate so so much literary and religious symbolism into these idol gacha game stories that just make me lose my mind (Me, who is like Judas Iscariot, who betrayed the saint for some dimes. You, you don’t hold any grudge for me, and even affirm your love to me, right? Would you even forgive those that crucified and sacrificed you, too?).

For all its flaws, of which there are many, it's such a genuine experience to read and play. The music is good the stories are well written most of the time and it's so full of love.

[eisheartoffantasy]

Entry #16. How Do You Love? How Do You Lie?

Corny title, I know. But it's my journal. My feelings.

Anyways, the girl I mentioned whom I have a crush on — let's call her Silvia — is still very much in my life.

The way she teasingly tells me good night, calls me by those silly nicknames she randomly comes up with, shares all her bizarre dreams and listens to me talk about mine... I'm in love with it.

When my dark thoughts take over, typically when I'm overworked or in a depressive episode at night, the thing I want to do the most is to text or call her. When something positive happens in my life (which honestly isn't that often of an occurrence), the person I want to share it with is her.

But the clearest sign of my crush on her is my jealousy. We have a mutual friend, whom I shall call Hana, who is by my perception closer to her. My main reason for this conclusion is that while I've given Silvia numerous gifts, she hasn't given me as many and yet she's given Hana quite a lot. That is not to assume she treats Hana better than she treats me objectively — for all I know, maybe Hana has given her more gifts herself, but that would suggest even more strongly that the two of them are closer.

Wow...I'm reading the above paragraph right after I finished writing it. What an over-analysis, huh?

I got quite jealous for sure, even verging on resentment towards Hana. So what did I do?

I befriended Hana. I made sure to be as nice to her as possible. I did it to the point where Hana explicitly told me that I'm one of the coolest girls she's met, and I feigned confidence in response, telling her that being thought of as cool is a great source of motivation to become even cooler.

Genuinely, Hana is an absolute sweetie. If it weren't for my unrequited (and unknown) feelings for Silvia, I'm sure I could be very close friends with her. In fact, if my feelings weren't in the way, the three of us could be such an iconic trio of best friends. Silvia, the most sociable and experienced in life to enlighten us with knowledge and hope; Hana, the "cinnamon roll" who deserves to be totally spoiled by us like a little sister; me, the cool one who brings tons of laughter and will wholeheartedly support my besties through any difficult situation.

If only I wasn't so petty.

If...only...I...wasn't...in...love.

Of course, my feelings can NOT become known. At the very least not right now, not in my current mental state — to put it simply, I haven't been my best self. I'm still depressed and anxious half the time, barely finding a direction in life. Silvia is like a beam of sunshine in my gloom-filled world, and I'm quite certain a romantic confession would ruin our friendship. Even if Silvia herself is unfazed by it, I know I would feel embarrassed to the point where my depression would worsen into an endless spiral, ultimately leading to an emotional explosion and to me losing even more than our friendship.

Plus, Silvia has a husband whom I'm also acquainted with. I can't do this to a married couple, even if the most likely outcome is that they'll just see me as a younger friend who developed an insignificant crush that'll naturally fade with aging.

So for now, I must keep lying. It's a harmless lie.

Well, I guess it's a little harmful to myself...but in this situation the truth is more harmful. And the truth is potentially harmful to other parties as well. So it's only clear which way the scale should tilt.

Silvia, Hana, I want to become close friends with both of you in the future, when I'm out of my mental health limbo. This part I'll never lie about.

Ei, you're in love with Silvia right now, that's okay and I allow you to possess this crush for as long as you feel it...but you must not make it known to anyone who knows you in real life. Hence why I'm allowing for this entry to be written. But this is where it stops, alright?

If questioned, you just lie. You tell them that you're still battling depression and other mental illnesses. Say you're slowly healing, which isn't a lie really. It's modified truth and it's the option that does minimal damage.

With warmth and hopefulness,

Ei

[eclaisse]

2024 Week 5

I need to get better about writing these blog posts on a timely basis. Originally I was using Twitter for every thought that popped into my head and posting it immediately, but I got tired and embarrassed by that very quickly.

I have multiple Twitter accounts and have been using the platform since 2016 I think. My main Twitter has a lovely selection of posts— art from my favorite artists, cute foods, different sciences, psychology, astrology, and funny memes. Then there's one I made as a VTuber and one I made for art after the last account was hacked. I don't check the VTuber one anymore because it's full of VTuber drama or overtly sexual humor. I understand that's part of the appeal of VTubers, but the jokes are so corny and make me cringe quite a bit. It makes me feel like I'm back in high school with a bunch of obnoxious students yelling dumb jokes as the teacher is trying to speak. Very specific, I know, but I think we've all experienced something like that.

The art Twitter isn't any better since I follow some VTuber mutuals on there. The people I follow are fine, but on the timeline I still see dumb posts with people either stirring up drama, spreading misinformation, or being overly dramatic about simple things. The memes on there are also super outdated— like stuff I saw back when I was still on Tumblr is making rounds again and people are eating it up. It's just become very off-putting to be there. I did have a lot of fun posting daily as a challenge though. It was a good exercise in research to see what kinds of posts were doing well. And I do like the mutuals I made through streaming, they are all very sweet people. I want to stay connected with them if possible.

I've been brainstorming other ways to pursue "content creation" (I hate that phrase). I just want to share my work with others and bond with them over it. I don't desire to be famous or have a community, I just want to have fun with my hobbies and interact with people.

Maybe it's better if I make a text document and update that like a Twitter every day for the week, and then compile them all into a post on Saturday or something like that. I will think about how to continue the consistency. This is probably the clunkiest post I've made because the sentences are so abrupt and short. But right now I just want to get my thoughts across.

Nothing super interesting happened this week I guess. I found a new dentist and set up an appointment with them, which is early tomorrow morning. I need to schedule a checkup next, but maybe I will wait a bit for that. I want to get a blood panel done this year and see how I'm doing. Work was dull this week because I barely had anything to do— and then suddenly I had to repeat one task three times, which was annoying but no one's fault.

It's been storming a lot so I made a tasty soup today. I used the chicken stock I made and froze a few months back, and added wood ear mushrooms, shimeji mushrooms, baby bok choy, green onions, soy sauce, sesame oil, and noodles. The broth tasted especially good after the ingredients simmered in it for a while. I want to try making it again. I want to make a heartier one though since this was a very light vegetarian soup.

The storm was making me feel anxious though, the tree outside was waving its branches wildly and bending to the winds. the wind and water hitting against the outside surfaces of the house was also a bit eerie to hear. My fear is that the roof will crumble and place will flood, though I think the place is a lot more structurally sound than that. I have enough food and a giant flashlight if I do lose power (many of my friends already did today) so I will just try to be careful.

[lionheartslowstart]

Moved In (Again)

The last month or so has been pretty hectic and definitely stressful. My boyfriend "Thomas" and I finally moved out of the horrible apartment we were living in. While I initially liked the idea of moving back to the city, it was just so not what we thought it was going to be.

Obviously, the main issue was finances. Living in the city, really any of the five boroughs, has become exponentially more expensive than it was when I lived there seven years ago. And the type of job Thomas has requires a lot of commuting (which also adds up after a while), so it was just not a sustainable situation. On top of cost, I realized that living in the city is just not what I want anymore, which honestly makes me really sad. Several years ago, I thrived in New York. I loved living in that kind of apartment and joining in on the hustle and bustle every day. The only reason I left was because my POS ex forced me to. Maybe it's because I'm older, or because I have different needs now, but I came to the hard realization that, while I adore Manhattan, it's just not the kind of environment I can thrive in anymore. It does kind of make sense, when I think about how attached I've become to LA, and the kind of lifestyle that's over there, that I would in turn end up floating away from the NYC lifestyle. But I'm sad anyway, because I'm still losing something. And I can't help but be angry at my ex for that too. Just something else he stole from me.

But I digress. Funnily enough, we were able to move back to my old apartment building, though it is (thankfully) a different unit. I always had a good relationship with the management team there, so when I reached out to them to let them know we were moving again and ask if they had any availabilities, they were thrilled! They told me I was a model tenant, and they would love to have me back. I'm lucky I had an in, because they only had ONE apartment available and they weren't even advertising it online.

Thomas and I fell in love with the apartment as soon as we saw it. It's almost one thousand square feet, bigger than any apartment either of us had ever lived in. It even has a cute little den area where we keep the desk, the bookcase, and all of our witchy things. The living room is spacious, with enough room to put up the pole, and the bedroom is perfect: not so big that it feels weirdly empty, and not so small that you have to squeeze around the furniture. The layout is fantastic, and there's tons of room for our various art, with still plenty of wall space to spare! Unfortunately, due to the model of the unit and its layout relative to the rest of the building, we had to give up the balcony, but we mutually decided that was the right call. Again, ours was the only available unit at the time, and we wanted to pounce on it before anyone else could snap it up. But even if there were other units available, we probably still would have gone with this one. I can't explain it, but it just feels so..."us."

The application process was super smooth. Management even agreed to put our applications in a few weeks early, because they really wanted us to be the people to get it! Then it was just cleaning the old place, packing all our stuff, moving our furniture and things, unpacking our stuff, and (my favorite part) organizing our stuff. Those few weeks were the most stressed I'd been in quite some time. But now, we're finally more or less settled. We just have to finish hooking up all our gaming systems, do some cleaning, and then there's just a few odds and ends here and there (like figuring out where the heck to hang the Pride flags), and we're all done!

We've only been officially living here for just under a month, but we're SO much happier than we were in Brooklyn. It's such a great space, and we're both familiar with the area. I'm familiar with the area because I grew up not far from here. Thomas is familiar with the area because he did live in my old place with me for a couple of months before we moved to the city, and that man has the memory of a steel trap. Additionally, we're only about 40 minutes from my parents now, when we used to have to drive almost two hours to get to their house! Of course, we're still pretty far from Thomas' folks, but you'd be surprised what a difference an hour makes when you're driving long distance. We're also not too far from the city. The commute using public transport is easy and not terribly expensive, so it's there when we want to go visit. But we also happen to be sandwiched between a small city and a large town, both of which have great restaurants and fun recreational activities available. So it's really a win-win. We'll have fun no matter where we go!

I'm so excited to start a new life here with the person I love. The energy in this space is so much brighter, warmer, and happier than it has been anywhere I've lived before. I may not want to stay in New York forever, but this finally feels like home.

[evergreenalice]

not a mutual, but happy to lend a hand! At least as much as one I can lend

I've been playing Strive for a little over a month, it's my first fighting game, and I'd like to think I picked up the fundamentals pretty quickly, now hovering around floor 7 and 8

now, obviously I don't know what things you can or can't do, or do or don't know, so I'm gonna be giving advice that might seem obvious

learn ONE specific character, at least mostly one

they all play very differently, my skills as a Bridget main don't really translate to the other characters, so if you don't main anyone, that'll really hold you back

now, Strive has a decent mission system that'll teach you some basics, so if you're looking for somewhere to start learning, that's probably a good place to start

after that, well, there are a lot of places, I'd recommend looking up fighting game basics, there are videos out there that talk about these, many places to read about these things

like if you don't know what a mix up is, you should look into that, they're fairly important, and then try and see what mixups your character of choice can do

I can't write a step by step guide since there isn't one specific place I got information from, I consumed a lot of sources to inform me on stuff

but ultimately, most of my skill came from throwing myself at other people over and over again, you will lose a lot, you'll probably feel like a bad player a lot, but there isn't a substitute for this

it's also useful if you play against someone more knowledgeable than you, who can give you some tips, I've done this once, and it was fairly useful

ultimately, there is no single "get good" strategy, and it will probably take a bit, but best of luck!

guys how do you like.... learn fighting games. like where do I learn what to do Other than the command list ingame

[catcrumb]

How do you stay motivated to do dailies? I really admire your dedication to these funky fresh cats. I've tried doing my own dailies (drawing, writing etc), but always lose steam about a week in. Was there a point when it became second nature, and just fit really easily into your routine? Or is it always going to be a bit of an uphill battle?

my big rule is that it doesn't have to be "good." that was the first and still the most important rule. some days i have the willpower to get out my tablet! some days i have my mouse! and some days i just wiggle my finger in the shape of a cat on my laptop's trackpad, slap some random thought i had onto it, and hit that post button. doesn't have to be perfect. doesn't have to be a work of art. could look like complete shit. just has to be a cat.

like this guy? very low effort! i had a headache that evening after doing a bunch of things i needed to do, and was like "ah fuck i still gotta do today's catcrumb". this took me thirty seconds. but that was that day.

something that has also helped me a lot is making my rule "one per day", not "once per day". after drawing the one i posted tonight, i drew two more doodles that are gonna be tomorrow's and the day after that's catcrumbs. so i don't have to draw for the next day and a half! the queue function is one of the big reasons i really enjoy tumblr as a platform. (the queue, tags as undervoice, tags for archival purposes, easy chronological and sortable archive/portfolio, and the anonymity. not to mention the vibes. also ive been here for over a decade and can't leave)

also, i use mspaint because it has a limited toolset, so it's just less overwhelming and not as daunting as the beefier art program i have for other art. if i had to open up clip studio paint every day....... i would not have lasted two years lmao.

and tbh the limited toolset has made me feel freer to try new things! like with color! when i was drawing mostly in Digital Art Programs and the edges of school papers i rarely ever got to coloring because i would spend so long on the lines. but with mspaint i draw with the pixel-pencil so it's easier to use the fill tool. this is one of my first little "landscapes" :) i drew it in february 2020. i still think about it a lot!

(also, i've found that the landscapes, which i spend more time and effort on, get less of a response than the scribbly ones. which i'm not bothered by, because 1. it makes me feel less pressured to do the big labors of love 2. it makes me feel unashamed when i only have energy for a quick scribble 3. my loved ones adore my little landscapes, and that's more important to me than Number Goes Up. but also it's fun to see the number go up in response to my scribble. it's a win/win.)

and finally there's accountability. i have a very firm rule with myself that i draw for ME, and my followers are a side effect/bonus of me posting it publicly. i do not create for an audience. to quote:

The difference between an inner-directed process of discovery and a kind of outer-directed pseudo-creativity that in its pursuit of attention gets overwhelmed by desperation.

but that doesn't mean that attention doesn't matter to me. i would not have gotten as far as i did if i hadn't shown my art to my friends/mutuals and gotten very sweet responses from them. that was what made catcrumb happen: the people who i know, am close to, and whose kindness is personal to me. i adore and appreciate the kindness of strangers! but it has to come in second to the kindness of friends, because otherwise you will go crazy. i'm pretty lucky that i have the sort of homebody personality that has little interest in strangers, which helps my brain not get rotted by clout.

so i showed my art to my friends, i got encouragement, they thought i was funny, i kept going, because i liked amusing myself and my friends with my little drawings. and then the snowball went further down the hill, etc etc. nowadays my main motivator is that i told my mom about catcrumb and she would definitely say something if i didn't post. sometimes just knowing that someone would notice is enough.

i hope this is useful. i am a person with a couple of brain problems that have made me debilitatingly incapable of forming and maintaining habits my entire life, so i'm honestly shocked that ive managed to keep a daily habit going for two years! ive never managed anything like that before! maybe because it doesn't Matter. i don't do catcrumb for money - ive thought about a patreon, but i couldn't do it. my executive dysfunction is too powerful, and catcrumb has always been about being the teeniest task to execute.

and it makes me smile. i like drawing little cats sitting around smiling or yelling or holding an object. :~)

tl;dr keep the bar as close to the ground as you possibly can

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.