#and yet they are taking up so much rent space in my brain

[toasty-owl-arts]

@cheemken

YOU

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8564 tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: longer chapter woohoo, was gonna write after break but had so much inspo. wrote on my phone, so if there’s any typos, please ignore 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The nights haven’t been easy in the past couple of days. Mingled with a growing sense of anxiety added on top of your already heightened stress, your brain just can’t seem to shut off. You’ve tried melatonin and no more caffeine, but caffeine is ultimately getting you through the day and keeping you up when needed. In all honesty, you’ve already been struggling with sleep, but with the surprise meet with Suguru, dread’s been pooling in your stomach.

You have no doubt he spilled the beans. Hell, you would too if that was your best friend. You can only hope he somehow didn’t, though. A small part of you would be a little annoyed if he did, because again, he has no role in this. At least not a big one.

A sudden banging on your door jolts you upright, checking the clock and it’s not even 7:30 yet. Only one person could be demanding your presence so early. A heavy sigh leaves you, forcing your stiff muscles out of bed, wrapping yourself in a robe before trudging to the front door. When you peek through the peephole, your landlord stands there with an annoyed expression on his old face, foot tapping the ground in impatience.

“Bastard,” you mumble to yourself before opening the door. “Good morning, Mr. Sato.”

Seems he doesn’t have time for fake pleasantries, “Y/N, I’m assuming you saw the eviction note I left on your door yesterday morning.”

Unfortunately. “Yes, sir. I did.”

His arms cross, scratching at his greying mustache, “So, is it also safe to to assume you’ll have the money by next Friday?”

You sigh heavily, hand running through your hair. This is not how you wanted to start your morning. He was already making your life hell by suddenly raising your rent out of nowhere three months ago for so-called “renovations”. But you’ve yet to see any actual renovations being done. Not to mention, you’ve been bugging about your heater no longer working, and during this time of year, you and Koji are practically freezing to death. You had to buy a portable heater, small, but it gets the job done. Although it’s mainly in Koji’s room because you’d rather freeze than let him. “Look, Mr. Sato, I’m really trying here. I’m working hard to get the money, but please understand that—”

“Understand? I’ve been understanding, Y/N. I even applied last month’s rent to this month, just ‘cause of you.”

Of course, he’s gonna throw that in your face. Landlords seem to take their title so literally that if he didn’t have this much control over your space of safety, you would’ve ripped him a new one. Also, how could you forget that to even get him to agree to that plea deal, you were forced through an hour and a half of an uncomfortable, infuriating dinner with the man. Really, he’s not giving you much to work with here, but then again, you shouldn’t have had such high hopes. “I know, I know,” you reply, scratching at your roots. “I’ll have the money, okay?”

“You better,” he says gruffly. “Or I’m renting this unit to someone who can actually afford it. I’m hurting here too, you know?”

You huff. “Yeah, thanks.”

Without another word, you close the door in the man’s face, locking it. Leaning your back up against the hard surface, you close your eyes and will yourself to stay calm and positive. Counting back from ten and then back, a small tip your therapist showed you before your insurance no longer covered it. It’s okay. It’s only the start of the day, you have 20 something hours left. Now’s not the time to throw yourself a pity party and play woe is me. Now’s the time to just pick yourself up and move on. You’ll find a solution for the money, you always do.

Though this time, you can’t help but feel you’re really fucked.

I mean, you honestly have no idea how you’re going to come up with almost four thousand dollars in just a week. That sounds quite literally impossible in every single way. You get paid next week, but with taxes, you’re going home with maybe three thousand, so how will you get that extra thousand?

Unless some miracle decides to hit you, which almost never seems to happen. You used to think someone hoaxed you, or you were just born with the most unluckiest luck ever. Or, the more cynical thought you tend to have, you were fated to live a life in strict financial management, and hardships are constantly thrown at you left and right.

But hey, you’ve made it this far, right?

“No, I haven’t.”

“You what?!”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Y/N, what the fu–”

“Jesus Christ, I know, Hana. You don’t have to make me feel even more like shit.”

Your friend stops mid-way, eyeing your very displeased expression. She sighs and relents, slumping back in the small chair in the backroom of the cafe. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting your confession simmer and process. When she does, it’s an honest question. “But…why?”

Why. You feel like you’re staring to hate that damn word. “A lot of reasons, I know it’s not really justified, but I just…need someone to understand me for once. Not come at me for my dumb decisions.”

Your words feel bare and raw, not completely exposing the extent of the emotions you’ve been harboring, but enough to make her stop. Hana regards you with pursed lips, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Finally, she nods. “Okay, I won’t question you anymore. You have your reasons, and your reasons are always valid. So, I’m behind you on this. We stick together, remember?”

A hint of a smile forms on your lips, quietly thanking her. She comes forward to give you a hug, one you immediately reciprocate. Her auburn hair tickling your nostrils, arms seemingly tightening. “Don’t go holding things in anymore, I told you that. I’m here, to talk, listen, whatever.”

You and Hana met three years ago. She was just your co-worker at the time, now promoted to your manager. Although she’s two years younger than you, you two relate to a lot of things. Whether that be movies, food, what guys are hot, or alcohol. If anything, Hana might be your only friend in general. It’s a little sad, maybe, but at least you have someone to come to when you need to talk about adult issues your five-year-old wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

“I love you.” You find yourself muttering.

“I love you too, girl. Now, get out there, your break’s up.”

Jokingly scoffing and nudging her, you stand from the seat and do a quick stretch. Preparing yourself for yet another few hours of dreaded customer service and fake smiles, you walk out of the backroom, pushing the small curtains aside that separate the back from the counter, and clock back in.

“Cash or card?”

“Hello, how can I help you today?”

“Would that be all?”

“Have a nice day.”

Are all phrases any retail or customer service worker finds a little annoying, if not a lot. It’s so draining. And when the customers don’t greet you back, your pettiness shines through and you won’t even say have a good day to them when they’re leaving. Although, the job does have some upsides to it. For example, you get to make free coffees, take whatever pastries are left at the end of the day home, and the customers are never really bad. Of course, you have had a couple experiences, but nothing compared to a chain store. You’re even starting to use your customer service voice throughout the day, even when you’re not at work. Honestly, that’s not very good.

As you’re wiping up the counter, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you see a set of numbers, an unsaved contact. You give Hana a quick glance, muttering a “just a sec”, before going back to the back to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

God, it’s gonna take some time getting used to his voice on the regular now. “Oh, Suguru. hey…uh–what’s up?”

There’s some shuffle on the other side like he’s adjusting the phone. “Are you busy right now?”

“Well, yes. I’m on the clock.”

He sighs, phone switching to his car output. “Where do you work? I’ll come now.”

“What?” you splutter out, head shaking. “No, Suguru, you can’t just pop out at my job. I’m busy, just tell me what you need right now.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

That statement alone scares you a bit. His cynicism always got on your nerves, but it also worried you from time to time. Most of the time, he didn’t mean any harm because that’s just how Suguru was, but it still did its job. Contemplation strikes through you. “Is it bad?”

He hesitates, which only further skyrockets your anticipation. “Honestly, it’s not too bad. But still, I need to talk to you.”

A breath emits from your lips, one you didn’t know you were holding. Eyes meeting the ceiling, you ponder over your decisions. Eventually, you come to a conclusion. “Fine, but it can’t be too long. I’m at Deja Brew, the cafe on–”

“On Express, got it. Be there in a bit.”

He’s hanging up before you even get a chance to question that he knew the cafe you worked at. If he did, surely he would have visited at least once, but you’ve never seen him come in. And you’re every day. Unless he usually comes when you’re not clocked in anymore. Anywho, you steel yourself for the inevitable conversation. Anticipating whatever bad or not-so-good news he'll give you.

“So.”

“Mm, this is good.” Suguru nods appreciatively, sipping from his coffee. You made it for him before he arrived, as a weird sort of gift to him. You two have situated yourself in a booth in the corner. Hana was a little confused as to why you were taking a break while you were on the clock, even regarding you with an almost scolding look. But the second she saw Suguru follow, her expression changed.

You practically saw the heart eyes form, smiling in a bashful way. That’s one thing you forgot about. The way girls would magnetize themselves towards the man, his best friend too. The two together were an almost deadly duo.

“Suguru,” you say, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “Please just…don’t stall anymore. Why did you want to see me?”

“Right,” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. Once more, his steely gaze meets yours, you have to hold back the sudden urge to look away. “Like I said, it’s not terrible news, but not very good either.”

You nod, wanting him to just stop with the extraness and get to the point. “Okay, say it.”

“Satoru.” is the first thing he says, gauging your automatic grimace to his name. “He knows.”

Figures. “And you told him?”

He nods in response. You exhale, rubbing your face. “Suguru, why? I didn’t say you could.”

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed permission to tell my best friend he has a secret love child he hasn’t known about for five years, Y/N.” You hate when his voice gets like that, like you’re a school child who’s just been caught by her teacher for doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Anywho, he knows. He wasn’t…very happy.”

You slowly ask, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer. “What did he say?”

“More so what he did than said,” he pushes a stray strand of black hair out his eye and behind his ear, arms crossing. “He’s been quite easy to anger. I mean, I haven’t really talked to him because he’s not answering my calls, but I’ve been hearing from people at the office. He also kicked my ass out right after I told him. But that’s all I know at least, Nanami says he’s like a ticking time bomb.”

Jesus Christ. You don’t know what else you were expecting, you’re surprised he hasn’t done worse, but like Suguru said, that’s all he knows. His state is most likely a hundred times worse than what’s being thrown at you right now. You feel an intense guilt pool, mixing with a slight fear. “Did he…do anything else? Say anything?”

“I don’t know, he’s not talking to me right now.” Suguru concedes, leaning closer to you, brows furrowing in a seriousness. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel worse, but I should let you know. He’s going to try and seek you out now that he knows about his son. You know that, right?”

Of course, you fucking know that. That’s what makes you scared, the possibility of somehow running across him in the most unsuspecting of places makes you want to stay holed up in your shitty apartment. “Yeah,” you gulp. “I figured.”

“I don’t know how he’ll react if–when–he does see you.” he honestly admits. “I just think you should reach out to him first, before he does it. I have his number, you should ca—”

“Stop.” you hold a hand up, eyes closing. “No more, I don’t want to be told what to do. I just…need some time processing everything right now.”

“Y/N–”

“Suguru,” your eyes open, staring at him dead on. “You seriously can’t expect me to jump from one thing to the next. I need fucking time to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m already stressed as it is, now I have to worry about my son’s father possibly trying to reach out and that just sets me more on fucking edge. You come to my work, spring this on me, and I–” you’re rambling. Cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence, choosing not to finish it. The last thing you need to do is rant to him. Besides, you’re just starting to see him again after five years, that would absolutely put him in a weird place between comforting someone who was once his friend, and backing up his life-long best friend.

You jolt a bit when you feel a warm palm envelope your hand, his thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. Looking back at him, he gives you an all too familiar look. One that can make you just pour out everything you’re feeling right at that second. It’s a horrifying technique he has. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like shit. I should’ve been more considerate. I’m sorry.” He apologizes with a soothing intonation. Again, it’s making you feel warm. “It’s a hard situation, I could never know exactly what you’re going through. but…I care about you, Y/N. I always have, even without Satoru’s involvement. So, I’ll do better and not overwhelm you.”

Damn it, Suguru. Now you’re making me feel bad! Not trusting yourself with words, you meekly nod, slowly pulling your hand out his grasp. You miss the way his eyes dart down to his now empty grip, a small downward twitch to his lip that he expertly hides. “I should go back to work, I’m assuming you do too.” You stand on wobbly feet, giving him one last lingering gaze. “On the house, by the way….yeah, bye.”

Suguru watches you disappear behind the curtains, a small pit expanding in his gut. He pushes it away without thought, sighing to himself as he stands and exits the cafe. He walks down the sidewalk to his blacked out 2025 Mustang GT parked on the street. Getting in with a heavy head that’s full of all kinds of emotions. Some he doesn’t try to acknowledge, but the ones he does, it’s all worry and concern. He really doesn’t see how this situation can somehow turn around. Maybe you two will have a very mature and calm conversation when you cross paths.

He almost laughs to himself when he begins driving. Calm? Mature? Yeah, right. How do you have a calm conversation about hiding a kid for five years? Not to mention, you and Satoru are equally stubborn; it used to be so infuriating for him.

Suguru had patience, a lot of it actually. But you two tended to test that. Although, he would always forgive one of you the quickest. Cough, cough. You. It was like you had this weird thing about you that made the people around you just…like you.

His grip tightens on the wheel, biting his lip. He gets to a red light, thumb tapping on the material. Damn it all.

There’s a ringing that emits from the car’s speakers, looking at his touch screen to see the familiar name. Using this as a distraction, he answers. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice sounds out. “Where are you? Thought you were paying for my lunch.”

He huffs, eyes rolling, and moving the car forward once the light turns green. “I never agreed to that.”

“Sure you did,” Shoko replies, exhaling a breath. She must be smoking. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m already waiting outside. I thought Satoru was coming, is he gonna be late again?”

Yeah, no. “I don’t think he’s coming anymore.”

“Why not?” Shoko asks.

Suguru exhales heavily, turning the street towards the meet-up spot with his friend. “Some shit happened, I don’t think he’s doing good.”

Shoko pauses, adjusting her phone in hand. “What happened?”

Suguru too stops, completely forgetting how Shoko has no idea about what has transpired in the past couple of days. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

Satoru has never been surprised before, not technically. He’s a smart man with quick instincts and a good foresight, it’s like he can always tell when something is going to happen, before it happens. Even for birthday parties, his perception and people reading skills are great, he knows when someone’s lying or not telling the full truth.

In short, he knows a lot of things.

But, what he didn’t expect was for 1) even hearing your name ever again after the breakup, and 2) you have a son, his son. A son he had not one goddamn clue about. The only person who’s ever been able to throw him off his game is you.

Even back when you two dated, there were moments where you’d either say or do things that would make him pause for a second and think how unlikely that was of you. He knew you’d lie sometimes, small white lies weren’t foreign to him because he did it too. But, he never thought you’d deliberately keep something like this from him.

And to top it off, if Suguru never saw you by chance that day, would you have ever even told him?

Now that really fucking pisses him off.

When Satoru is mad, everyone else’s day is ruined. When he’s mad, you can see it in his face, his body, how he’s just barely holding himself back. It’s even more scary when Satoru is known as the laid-back, playful and unserious type of man. So when he’s mad, almost no one in the office wants to make him even angrier, let alone be around him.

He’s barely slept a total of ten hours within the past two days, mind keeping him awake. He’s trying to not imagine the image of you holding a boy who looks like him because he’s already broken one too many pairs of glasses and the thought alone makes him infuriated. He sees a blinding white flash of betrayal, hurt, confusion, and anger.

He doesn’t mean to take it out on his employees, but their feelings are not on his list of priorities.

He has a son.

A son who’s five, apparently.

Five whole years of being kept in the dark, not even being blessed with a smidge of information about his offspring. While he was off fucking women, having fun, dreading about taking over his father’s business, you were god knows where, changing fucking diapers and losing sleep. And for what? Were you that fucking scared to tell him?

Oh, he’s so going to rip you a new one when he sees you.

But, he’s still not sure if he wants to do that. Afraid of what might happen, he’d rather not blow up on you, but can you blame him if he does?

He just found out he has a secret love child from a woman he knew years ago and know he’s expected to act like everything is normal in this boring fucking meeting?

Not to mention, if his father finds out, he’s not sure what will happen. If anyone else finds out, for that matter. If anything, he needs to get a reign over this messy situation before he’s allowing anyone to know.

“Mr. Gojo? What do you think?”

At the sudden mention of his name, he snaps back into focus. Eyes flickering over to the bald-headed man who currently stands in front of the table of other withering men, the screen projector displaying a multitude of different statistical data. The man falters slightly, his grip tightening on the laser pointer as Gojo’s eyes land on him

Shit. He has no idea what they were even talking about. “About?” He clears his throat, appearing nonchalant, though the tight hold on the ballpoint pen says otherwise, the faint click of it opening and closing the only indication of his simmering irritation

The room feels colder, quieter.

The man clears his throat nervously. “The expansion plan... into the Asia-Pacific region. Whether you think it’s viable in the current climate.”

Gojo leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his pen continues its faint, rhythmic clicks. His expression is unreadable, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lets the silence stretch a moment too long. “And you need my opinion on this?” he says finally, his tone polite but tinged with condescension.

The bald man shifts on his feet, adjusting his glasses. “W-We... wanted your insight, given your, uh, experience overseeing the European division.”

“Right,” Gojo says, dragging the word out just enough to make the man squirm. He tilts his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if I’d been paying attention, I’d probably say something about how overly cautious you all seem to be. But that’s just a guess.”

The bald man blanches, stammering, “O-Overly cautious? We’ve taken every factor into account—”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gojo cuts in smoothly, his voice softening just enough to disarm the growing panic in the man’s voice. “I’m just wondering if maybe all those ‘factors’ are holding you back. Are we leaders, or are we playing it safe like everyone else?” His eyes flicker briefly over the rest of the table, daring anyone to challenge him.

The bald man hesitates, then nods quickly, his nervous energy palpable. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Gojo. I’ll revisit the projections to—”

“No need,” Gojo interrupts again, flashing a faint, humorless smile. “I trust you’ll figure it out. Unless you think I shouldn’t.”

The man practically trips over his words in an effort to assure him. “No, no, of course not. I’ll make the adjustments immediately.”

“Perfect,” Gojo says, the finality in his tone dismissing the topic entirely. He shifts his attention to the projector screen, the numbers and graphs blurring together as his thoughts drift.

The room eventually moves on, the hum of conversation resuming. But Gojo doesn’t miss the quick glances from across the table, the subtle unease lingering in the air.

He taps the pen against the table, his jaw tightening. It’s taking everything in him not to snap, not to let the weight of the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a filthy fucking person seep through the cracks.

Let them sweat. It’s the only thing keeping him entertained today.

The minute the awful meeting of ifs and hesitant decisions is over, he’s pushing out his chair, being the first one to leave the haunted room. It’s a bad mistake on his end, because his secretary, Aiko, is on his ass. “Mr. Gojo, your father is waiting for you in your office.”

Great, as if things couldn’t get any fucking better. He holds back a remark, gruffing out. “For?”

“He didn’t say, sir. He just wanted me to tell you to see him as soon as the meeting finished.”

He really, really doesn’t want to see his father right now. The two were too alike, constantly butting heads which only ended in a harsh set of insults being tossed around, mingled with occasional threats of “never passing the company down to someone as idiotic as you”. His father is bluffing, of course. He has no other person to pass it down to, with Satoru being the oldest and only son of his father’s. His long legs easily lead him to the doors of his office, to which he hesitates. Taking in a big breath, before opening the doors and closing them soon after. “What is it?” he asks, walking over to sit in his chair, leaning back comfortably.

His father, Yamato Gojo, the current CEO of the Gojo Group, who sits leisurely on the black leather coach stands up to position himself across from his son. Arms crossed and the permanently etched frown on his face. “Why didn’t you come to the dinner yesterday? There were very important people there you needed to meet. I texted and called you.”

Why didn’t he go? Can he really just say “sorry dad, I was stressing about this shithole I’ve found myself in”. No, he can’t. Instead, he shrugs and brushes his father off. “I was already busy.”

“Busy with what? What’s more important than networking?”

“A lot of things, actually.”

Yamato dislikes that answer quite a lot, frown seemingly deepening, regarding his son with another usual disapproving look. “Satoru, this is serious. They were expecting you and you embarrassed me. I won’t let this happen again, when I say you need to be somewhere, you be there. No if, ands, or buts. You’re pissing me off.”

How ironic of him to say that considering he’s having the exact same effect of Satoru. He isn’t scared of his father, hell no. But he does know to pick and choose his battles. And with the way his mind is completely scrambled right now, he forces himself to intake a huge breath of air. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll be there next time. Happy?”

“Only after you prove it.” Like father, like son. Satoru hates how his father always seems to want to get the last word in. But his father hates how he does the exact same.

Throughout the entirety of his shift, up until he clocks out of work and walks to his designated parking spot which houses his white 2025 Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. Driving back to his high rise penthouse on autopilot, his thoughts zeroed in on one person only. Or well, two people.

Satoru wasn’t ever sure he wanted to be a father. He knew it was expected of him, but so many people had such high expectations of him, it became exhausting. Too exhausting. Does he even have a right to call himself a father to a child he never knew, a child who probably doesn’t even know him?

His right hand reaches for his phone, calling a number without taking his eyes off the road. It answers on the first ring, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Do you know where she lives?”

There’s a falter, hearing Suguru’s deep breath come out on the other end. “No, I don’t. And nice to hear from you too.”

“I don’t have time for your sarcasm right now.” He stops at a red light, using his left hand to rub the crease between his furrowed brows. “Do you know anything? Her number? Where she works? Where did you see her so I can go over?”

“Satoru, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go meet up with her again. You’re obviously not in the right mind space and I don’t want you two to—“

“I’ll argue with her all I want, I have that goddamn right to.” Satoru grits out, interrupting his friend before he has the chance to spew out more shit he’d rather not listen to right now. “Answer me.”

In Suguru’s mind, he knows if he gives Satoru even the tiniest bit of information regarding your whereabouts, he’ll storm over there and probably say things he doesn’t mean. Satoru tends to think emotionally in very dire situations, a bad habit of his. Still, although he knows his best friend should be angered by this situation, Suguru doesn’t want to involve himself. More than he has. After speaking with you, he’s come to the conclusion that you’ll reach out to Satoru soon. Considering the fact that he already knows. “I don’t know, I saw her at a grocery store, but she was just shopping.”

“Fuck,” Satoru groans, moving his car forward again. “Well how the hell do I—“

He’s cut off by a small vibrate to his phone, a message. When he looks down, the screen is overtaken by a new call coming in from Himari. Honestly, she’s the last person he wants to talk to right now.

“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, after noticing the small beat of silence from the other end of the phone.

What isn’t wrong? “Gotta go, call you later.”

“Sat—“

Satoru ends the call, picking up the new one. “Hey.”

“Baby,” Himari’s light voice fills his ears, sighing in relief. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the mall but the tires of my driver’s car popped.”

He’d rather not, but Satoru has found out that it’s been quite difficult to say no to his girlfriend. So, he puts his own internal and external battles to the side, making a right turn and exhaling. “The mall?”

“Yes, baby. Thank you so much.”

He hums back in response. “Be there in ten, wait outside.” Once again, he hangs up and a suffocating silence fills his car. Hands tightening around the wheel, he reels himself in with a big inhale, then exhales. He can’t show these sorts of emotions in front of the woman, for she’ll no doubt question and question about what’s wrong, which will then lead to an argument. He doesn’t need arguments.

As Satoru sees the mall in the distance, he’s overrun by the sudden determination. The determination to find you and meet his son.

“Just one more question, Koji. Then let’s eat dinner, how does that sound?”

The young boy groans in annoyance, the math work of simple addition problems laid out in front of him. He hates math, almost as much as you, excelling in other subjects like English and Art. “But Mama……” he drags the words out in a childish manner.

Plating two plates of tonkatsu chicken with curry, one plate smaller than the other, you turn to your son who now has a pout on his face. You resist the urge to pinch his cheeks. “You can do it, you did the other ones so well.”

Sitting next to him, you look over at his workbook. Just one more problem. It’s a problem consisting of three numbers, 5, 23, and 6. Simple in your eyes, but a disastrous monstrosity in the eyes of a five-year-old. “Mama will help you, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” Koji grumbles, reluctantly grabbing his red pencil again.

Times like these you cherish. Sure, it’s mundane and not very exciting. But it’s the little things that matter most to you. Helping your kids with homework, helping them learn to ride a bike, tie their laces, it’s all wonderful experiences from your perspective. Proof of the fact that your chubby little baby isn’t very little anymore, growing into his own person. Although, the more he grows, the more he’s starting to resemble his father. It’s scary at times, when he looks at you and you get random flashbacks.

Eating dinner and washing up is another thing you love. After such a hectic day, you just want to unwind with your son. You had put in your PTO for the convenience store a month in advance; after a particularly hard month. Finishing at 5:00pm, like most people do, is a breath of fresh air.

You let Koji tire himself out in the tub, then the living room, to which he has Cars playing (his favorite movie at the time). He plays with his own small set of matching cars, while you sweep the kitchen. Your eyes flicker over to your phone that lays face up on the island, a bubbling sensation forming in your being, one of contemplation. You wonder to yourself, would you call Satoru? You know his number by heart, he most likely hasn’t changed it.

After the breakup, you cut off all contact with him and his friends, even choosing to get a new phone and new number, just to avoid any possibly drives of texting him, or to avoid him texting you. You quite literally wanted to erase every memory about him.

Kinda hard to do that when you’re raising his carbon copy.

After another blind minute, you pause your sweeping and grab your cellular device. You’re about to grab Suguru’s business card from your purse when a sudden question hits you.

How was he able to call you earlier at work if you had never given your number to him in the first place?

Your brows knit together while you come up with any possible solutions and reasoning to that thought, coming up blank. Seriously, how did he call you? Without thinking, you go to your recent calls, pressing the first one, and raising your phone to your ear.

It rings for about a second, before Suguru’s coaxing voice follows. “Hello?”

“How did you get my number?”

“What?”

“How did you get my number? I didn’t give it to you at the store.”

You can practically hear the way he’s trying to formulate an answer. Coming up with a shitty one. “I just…guessed.”

You say nothing, your eyes narrowing on a certain spot on the blank white walls of your kitchen.

Another second passes before he gives in, too easily. “Okay, okay. Look, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but—“

“Were you stalking me?”

“What?! No! Of course not, Y/N. I’d never do that.”

“Then tell me how you got my number without me telling you.”

He sighs. “…I have a friend. He’s in the law enforcement and I…may have asked around. But before you get any ideas, I was worried. You just fell off the face of the Earth and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You can’t stop the huff that leaves you. Should you feel complimented that he went out of his own way to do all this or invaded? Maybe both. Honestly, you did that all for a reason. And he blatantly went behind yours, probably everyone’s, back to get some information on you in a shady way. Isn’t that illegal or something? “Suguru, when people do that, it doesn’t mean they want to be found.”

“I know, Y/N. But I was worried, so was Shoko and Satoru—“

“Does he know my number too?” You ask, already feeling your panic run up your veins, boy straightening into a stiff position.

“No, no, he doesn’t. Just me.” He quickly relieves you.

You guess that’s somewhat better. Although you still feel mildly annoyed at Suguru for what he did. “Is that all you know?” The way he doesn’t respond immediately makes you feel even more frustrated, jaw clenching.

“I….” He lets out a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.”

“What else do you fucking know?”

He winces at your now harsh tone of voice, though he knows it’s all expected. “It wasn’t on purpose, I just wanted your number, I swear. But when you’re looking for that kind of stuff, other things pop up like…address and…yeah.”

If only he could see your expression right now. “You know where I fucking live?”

“Yes, Y/N….”

Okay, now your privacy is very invaded. You have never really gotten angry with Suguru, let alone get into an argument. He always knew when to stop, what not to say to make someone else feel worse, but did he just get fucking dumb after all these years? “…are you serious?” You know he is, not even giving him the chance to answer your rhetorical question. “Fuck you, Suguru. I can’t believe you—you completely—I don’t even know what to tell you right now.”

You can hear the guilt in his voice, tone softening. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I had the best intentions, I was never going to visit you or call you without your specific permission to.”

“Did I give you permission to call me earlier?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Exactly.” With another scoff, you bite your lip, picking the correct words to voice out. You wouldn’t say you’re a word vomit person, usually. But right now, you just feel…slightly weirded out. All this time, you thought you had solitude. But Suguru knew where you were this entire time? “Goodbye, Suguru.”

“Y/N, wai—“

“Don’t. If I need you, I’ll tell you. But right now I don’t want to speak to you.”

He pauses, feeling his gut tighten. Nonetheless, he nods and mutters. “Okay, I’ll give you space. Just please know I’m sorry and I really didn’t have bad intentions.”

Seems like this is the second time today he’s apologizing to you. You don’t like it. Without another word, you end the call, putting your phone back on the hard surface of the island. Jesus Christ. What the hell is going on, seriously?

One minute you’re stressing about getting evicted, then you have to worry about Satoru somehow running into you, and now you find out Suguru has just casually known your address all these years. Why is all of this deciding to be sprung on you all at once? Out of no where? The world must be punishing you for every unholy deed you’ve done in your life; it really doesn’t seem fair. At all. Can’t things just go right for once in your life? You just want to go at least a day without external stressors fucking you over in every way possible.

Of course, you’re unlucky. That’s just how things have always been for you. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, and you’re the punchline to every cruel joke. The thought of Suguru knowing your address sends a cold, uncomfortable shiver down your spine. What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?

The questions swirl in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. You sit down heavily on the edge of your worn-out couch, its cushions sagging beneath you as though they, too, are tired of carrying your weight. You bury your face in your hands, the skin of your palms rough against your cheeks, and take a deep, shaky breath.

Satoru (and Suguru). Their names alone bring up a storm of emotions you can barely keep bottled up. You’ve worked so hard to keep them, and everything they represent, in the past. Yet here they are, forcing their way back into your life like unwelcome ghosts.

You glance at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table, mocking you with their bold red lettering. As if you didn’t already know you were drowning. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the tide.

You watch Koji focus on the bright screen, moving his toy cars in unison with the movie. Willing yourself to worry about the now, to convince yourself that you’re not done, that there’s still some fight left in you.

However, that seems to be proving harder each and every single day.

It’s a chilly, but sunny winter day. The sidewalk filled with other people going about their day. You’re wearing a black trenchcoat, along with a scarf. Hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat as little puffs of white air leave your mouth, a stark piece of evidence of how cold it is today. The heels of your shoes clacking down the concrete, making your way to the familiar cafe of Latte Lounge.

Saturdays are supposed to be happy days, a final breath of fresh air after the business of the weekdays prior. The day where people enjoy Mother Nature and what she has to offer, a day of sleeping in, a day of no responsibilities.

A woman like you has no Saturdays. It’s like every day is a cold, hard Monday.

You finally spot the cafe, its large, glass windows giving you a sneak peek to the liveliness that resides inside. Of course, most people do choose to go to cafes on Saturdays. Especially this early in the morning. Walking in, the small bell above the door dings. The workers behind the counter greet you; while you give them a half greeting back, your eyes scan the environment. It takes a few seconds, but you see Mr. Ito sitting at a table for two in the corner.

You prepare yourself with a heavy sigh, forcing your feet to maneuver you over to the man who smiles and stands once he sees you approaching. “Ms. Y/N, good morning.”

“Good morning.” You’re a little caught off guard when he takes the empty seat from across from him and pulls it out, a silent move of help. Sitting down, he pushes your chair in then walks back over to his own. He laces his fingers together on top of the table. “Get whatever you’d like, on me, remember?”

“Oh, I’m not very thirsty right now.”

“No, please. It’s my pleasure, especially for meeting with me so early this morning.”

A part of you wants to deny his niceness. But, he did cause you to lose money you could’ve still had to spare if you didn’t have to call in Sana to watch Koji. And well, coffee always makes you feel better. “Just an iced vanilla latte.”

He nods and stands up. “Great, I’ll be back.”

Watching him go up to the counter and order, you look back down at your lap. Koji misbehaving sounds odd, he’s always been an obedient kid. Of course he has his moments, but he understands when to listen and when to goof around. A few minutes later, Mr. Ito sits back down with two cups of coffee, sliding yours over to you. You thank him and sip. Hm, not too bad.

There’s a small silence that flows over you two as you taste your coffees, but you wait for him to speak first. He did schedule this little meeting, after all. He clears his throat. “So, Ms. Y/N, again thank you for meeting with me.”

You nod. “Of course, Mr. Ito. Anything for Koji.”

Mr. Ito smiles, his hand waving you off. “Oh please, call me Haruto.”

Already trying to get on a first name basis. Simply nodding again, you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.

“Anywho, like I said earlier this week, I have concerns about Koji’s behavior. You see, he’s had about six instances where he doesn’t listen to me when I say it’s time for silent reading time. I understand he’s a talkative child, but he usually does not act out like this. Would you happen to have any idea as to why he is behaving this way so suddenly?”

“No, I don’t. Koji listens well, and he hasn’t come to me specifically about getting in trouble.” You respond, lips pursing.

Mr. Ito nods in understanding. “I can assume so, but his behavior has started affecting his peers, as well.”

You sit up straighter in your chair. “In what way?”

“Well,” Mr. Ito tilts his head, seemingly recounting the times Koji has misbehaved. “The students who sit around him have started coming to me, complaining about how Koji doesn’t leave them alone. They feel as if he’s taking away from their learning.”

What? Not to mention that that sounds quite…interesting for other five year olds to say, but no way Koji has been that bad. Maybe it’s your bias as his parent, but this is brand new to you, very brand new. Even when he’s home, Koji always insists on doing his homework before playing or eating dinner. So really, you’re not sure how to react to this surge of new information about your own child. “I really don’t know, Mr. Ito. I mean, Koji is a great boy, he listens very well to me and the other adults in his life. I’m just as shocked as you are right now.”

Mr. Ito leans back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not doubting your parenting skills. Koji’s clearly a bright and energetic boy. Maybe too energetic for some of his classmates to handle.” His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent there, something you can’t quite place. “It’s possible he’s just seeking attention in ways that might not be obvious at home.”

You nod slowly, though his words don’t sit right with you. Koji doesn’t come across as attention-seeking at all. If anything, he’s a bit reserved until he’s comfortable around someone. “I’ll talk to him tonight and see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Ito says, his smile deepening as he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. The movement feels deliberate, like he’s closing some invisible gap between the two of you. “You’ve always struck me as a very attentive parent.”

The compliment lands awkwardly, and you find yourself straightening your back again, instinctively pulling away from his lingering gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Ito,” you say curtly, steering the conversation back to its purpose. “I just want to make sure Koji’s doing well and that his behavior isn’t affecting his classmates.”

“Of course,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “And I’m here to help however I can. We could even set up regular meetings if you’d like, to make sure we stay on the same page about Koji’s progress.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you say, your polite tone edging into firmness. “But I do appreciate the offer.”

His smile falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, leaning back in his chair as though he hadn’t just been testing the waters. “Understood. Please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything. My door is always open.”

You nod, feeling a distinct shift in the atmosphere—one you’re eager to step away from. “Well, are there any other concerns I should know about, Mr. Ito?”

He looks like he wants to say more, but decides against it. “No, Ms. Y/N. None at all, thank you for coming out.”

“Thank you for the coffee, have a nice day.” You reply, wasting no time in standing up, grabbing your drink in one hand and bag in the other. Though, his voice speaking again causes you to stop.

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Ito’s voice stops you just as you push your chair back. You glance at him over your shoulder, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I really hope I didn’t come across as too forward earlier. I’m just...invested in making sure Koji has everything he needs to thrive.”

You offer a polite smile, settling the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Of course, Mr. Ito. I appreciate that.”

He smiles, but there’s a pause before he continues. “It’s rare, you know, to see a parent as involved as you are. It’s refreshing.”

The compliment makes you pause, and you clutch your coffee cup a little tighter. “Well, Koji’s my world,” you reply simply, brushing off the remark.

“As he should be.” Mr. Ito leans back in his seat, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his own drink. “But I imagine that must get exhausting sometimes, especially since you seem to handle everything on your own.” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, as if he’s inviting you to confide in him.

You blink, his words catching you off guard. Is he fishing for something? “It’s not always easy,” you admit cautiously, “but that’s just part of being a parent.”

“True,” he says with a small nod, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. “Still, you shouldn’t hesitate to lean on the people around you when you need to. It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”

You stiffen slightly, unsure how to interpret his words. They seem innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flickers toward you feels... calculated. “I manage just fine, thank you,” you reply, keeping your tone light but firm.

“Of course,” he says smoothly, raising his hands slightly as if to placate you. “You strike me as someone who handles things with grace. It’s admirable.”

You glance at your watch, eager to end the conversation. “Well, I should get going. I’ll talk to Koji about everything we discussed.”

“Of course.” Mr. Ito stands as you do, his smile as steady as ever. “Thank you again for meeting me. And...if you ever want to talk more, even just about life in general, I’d be happy to listen.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, and you force another polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.”

“I can walk you to your car, I’m heading out as well.” He quickly suggests.

You shake your head almost instantly, smile feeling more narrow. “No need, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“But I—“

“Thank you again, but I really must go.” You cut him off, feeling your patience run thin and the desire to be cordial and polite stretching too much. You nod stiffly and turn around to briskly walk out the cafe. However, just as you do so, you collide into something, or someone.

Your open-lidded coffee fumbles a bit in your hand, quickly steadying it. Though it does manage to stain the white shirt of the person you just bumped into. Just great. You hold back a wince and apologize. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t—“

Your words leave you, your breath feeling like it’s been stolen straight from your chest. Every hair on your body stands up straight, your heart falling straight to your ass like you’ve just hit the biggest drop on a rollercoaster. You know that feeling when you question if something is real or not, pleading with yourself and every deity watching that it’s not? Well, that’s exactly how you feel right now.

It feels like a spotlight has been shone on you without your consent and you suddenly want to throw up. Because as your eyes have moved up to profusely apologize to the stranger, a bucket of water filled with nostalgia and past memories drowns you.

The bright blue, unmistakable irides stare back down at you. A million memories play on repeat, but one thing’s for certain.

The past has never felt so close, and you suddenly want to erase it all and scream.

a/n: the dreaded reunion is here! thank you for reading and the tremendous support! <3 stay tuned for next chap, sorry if yall thought these two were boring, chapter 3 will be getting more into it

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts

[violetrainbow412-blog]

The important date [R. L]

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

word count: 5.1k

an: I was very excited to write this. I'm latina and Kuku completely won my heart and I think he's absolutely like a young remus. If you want to read more of this you can tell me and I would be very happy to see a comment or reblog. Kisses!

People who might be interested: @fairysluna @madame-fear @luceracastro @luv4fati

You were quite nervous when you knocked on the door of the modest apartment whose address was written on the folded paper inside your pocket.

You had tried to look your best before leaving the house, but the wind on the way had messed up your appearance slightly and while you waited for a response you ran your hands through your clothes, trying to fix the damage.

After a few seconds no one came out and as you knocked a second time the fear of having gone to the wrong place settled in you. You were startled when the door finally opened and a boy appeared, about your height, with long black hair and whose bare chest was covered in tattoos.

“You aren’t my pizza.”

“Uh, sorry. “I probably went to the wrong house” you exclaimed sadly.

“I don't know if you were wrong, but you can come in if you want,” the boy said, smiling mischievously at you while winking at you and leaning against the door frame.

“You weren't wrong! I'll be there in a moment” a voice spoke from inside. He sounded agitated, but you still recognized him.

The stranger looked at the apartment in disbelief and then looked at you from head to toe, as if he was analyzing the situation.

“Are you coming with Remus?” You nodded. “Okay, so I… Excuse me?”

Without waiting for your response, he half closed the door and then you lost sight of him, leaving you just as confused as at the beginning.

Sirius, oblivious to your sight and hearing, practically stumbled down the hall until he reached Remus' room. He was trying to comb his hair at the same time as the toothbrush rested in his mouth.

“Do you want to explain to me why there is a pretty young lady waiting for you out there?”

“She's my college classmate,” he said in a half-understandable way.

The place was so tiny and there were so many books everywhere that he almost fell when he went to spit the toothpaste into the sink, trying to hurry as much as possible.

The apartment was always messy, in general, but the one who made the least mess was Remus. His only problem was the ridiculous amount of sweaters, boots, and pieces of literature he bought at second-hand places, which had slowly managed to plague his piece of space.

“Are you wearing that expensive cologne you bought last time?” mocked James, who had been in the living room but thought it appropriate to join the conversation. “And you're combing your hair.”

“Is she the one you stay with to study so often?” Sirius insisted, his brain spinning events.

"Yes, sometimes"

“And why did she come here?”

“Because I invited her to dinner.”

"Here?!"

“No, in a restaurant”

Both James and Sirius were slightly taken aback, as there had been no mention of you in any previous talk and it wasn't very common for Remus to do that kind of thing.

“And why didn't you go to her house for her?”

“She said it was on the way,” he responded breathlessly. He was still struggling with putting on his shoes.

“Bad there, Moony. You should be a gentleman and go pick her up at her house instead of keeping her waiting.”

“I would have done it if it hadn't been for the fact that you two idiots forgot to pay the rent that is due today. I had to pass a while ago and the time was barely enough for me”

“Didn't you pay, James?”

“I thought it was your turn!”

“Anyway, that doesn't matter anymore.” Remus got up to search his dressing table for a few golden rings “It's late and I have to go.”

“You can't leave us like this! What's her name? Have you kissed her?”

"He is right. Come on, introduce us to your girlfriend.”

“She's not my girlfriend yet,” he exclaimed, taking a last look in the mirror. He looked good, to have done it so hastily “But I plan for her to be today.”

The jaws of both listeners almost dropped to the floor at that statement and if they were already curious about the stranger's appearance, that had only increased their interest.

“I'm leaving, don't wait up for me.”

"Wait!"

“Bye,” he said, hurrying down the hallway toward the exit.

Sirius and James immediately followed him, but before they could ask anything he had already opened the door.

“Remus.”

"Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry for the delay,” he apologized benevolently, as he leaned down to kiss your cheek in greeting.

The two curious people managed to see this exchange and then Remus closed the door, but not before giving them a warning look that was responded to with an expression of astonishment and another of pride at what they had just seen.

“How well he kept it, right?”

“Why do you think he didn't want to introduce us?”

“Possibly because you are in pajamas, I flirted with her, and because there are pigs that live in better conditions than us.”

“But he still could have told us something. We are your friends.”

“Give him his space. Maybe it's a nice thing he wants to keep for himself."

“That's why he's been so happy lately,” James reflected.

“Yes, it is likely.”

A knock was heard on the door and the two began to fumble with each other to open it first, eager to be able to see even a moment more of their friend's woman.

But it wasn't them, it was a thin boy dressed in uniform.

“Good evening, Sirius Black?”

“Yes, it's me,” he responded disappointed, taking a bill out of his pocket and receiving the pizza box in his hands while James returned to lie down on the couch.

By this point you and Remus had already left the building. During the way he offered you the full explanation for his lateness, trying so not to get angry with him.

“It's okay, I didn't wait too long,” you reassured him. “I guess those are your roommates.”

“Sirius is the one with the tattoos and James is the one with the glasses.”

“They seem nice”

“They are a little weird, but when you meet them you like them”

With one deft movement Remus placed you on the inside of the sidewalk and both of you took a moment to observe each other. You were wearing a tight white long-sleeved blouse, underneath a strapless dress with a floral print, and you were wearing your comfortable brown leather boots. He, looking completely elegant, in a beige trench coat over a light blue formal shirt and a kind of scarf with lines that combined both colors. For a few months he had been growing his facial hair, which made him look older, but in a good way.

"Where will we go?"

“There is a restaurant a few blocks from here. He looks calm and I thought you might like it. James orders food delivered sometimes and it tastes good.”

“Good” you smiled. You trusted your friend's good judgment in choosing a place.

The truth was that the beginning of your friendship was somewhat curious and you would have to go back a while to understand it.

A few years ago, Remus had his doubts when Sirius and James encouraged him to enter a Muggle university. They had decided after graduating from Hogwarts and moving to the apartment they shared in search of independence and adventure, but the brunette still didn’t have a clear picture of what he wanted for his life. 

Furthermore, he didn’t have as many financial resources as his friends to live comfortably and study at the same time. He allowed himself a year of work to raise money, even without knowing if he would use it for an education or something else, and since in that time he saw that they were both comfortable in what they had chosen, he decided that he could give the Muggles a chance. Although he had some administrative problems, since Hogwarts wasn’t a validated school for those cases, after sending a letter to Albus Dumbledore to ask for help, everything was solved and he was able to enter the philosophy faculty in a modest institution.

Before you, Remus didn't have many friends. He was able to start a conversation with his classmates and function in the classroom, however, he almost always spent his time in his books or at home. Sirius invited him to art school parties but when he attended, beyond drinking and making sure his friends didn't do anything stupid, he didn't do much.

His life had been quiet until you met him a few years later. The link that brought you together was that you had enrolled in an elective sociology class at the university and it turned out that Remus had chosen the same one. Despite being quiet, the boy quickly gained your attention due to the scars on his face and arms, which you still hadn't dared to ask about and he hadn't talked about.

Although you were curious, you tried not to observe him too much so as not to make him uncomfortable, but when he had to present a topic or answer questions it was inevitable to focus all your attention on him.

Remus didn't even notice your interest in him until, as fate would have it, the professor assigned pairs for a project and you were his lucky partner.

During the first meetings he felt out of place and even a little uncomfortable, since he wasn’t so used to spending time with other people outside his circle or studying in company. But he soon began to enjoy working with you and eventually recognized that you were an excellent teammate. You almost always spent it in the library because the atmosphere was calmer, although sometimes you would look for a lonely meadow on campus to lie down and continue moving forward. On one of those occasions you discovered that the boy carried chocolate all the time, because he shared it with you to lighten the hours, and it had become a habit to bring something to eat.

The weeks passed and when you presented the product you obtained the highest grade as well as congratulations from your teacher, with which Remus felt more than satisfied. He thought that once what you had in common was over, you wouldn't want to continue frequenting him, but he was surprised when you started looking for him to have breakfast together and he, to reciprocate, accompanied you some afternoons when you stayed in the library to study or walked with you to the bus stop.

You soon discovered that he was, in addition to being intelligent, kind and that he had many qualities that you liked. Likewise, he saw another set of attributes in you that made him feel the same.

As the weeks passed, you began to get along well and by the middle of the course you could already tell that you were friends. Less than a month after finishing it, you had already fallen in love.

“How is your hand?” Remus asked in the middle of a silence, when you had already gone quite a few blocks.

You had cut yourself by accident a few days ago and when he saw the wound he was quite worried, because it didn't look pretty at all.

“Better, it almost doesn't hurt anymore and the antiseptic helps a lot”

As you said that you raised your palm covered with a big band-aid, as if trying to show him that it was true, and he took the opportunity to capture it with his. Remus had a lot of experience with wounds and wished he could heal them with magic, however, he knew it was forbidden.

"It is good to hear"

He searched you for some sign that you didn't want him to hold your hand but, beyond your flushed cheeks, he found nothing.

You continued walking and talking about some other things until the boy stopped at a picturesque place. A couple of people could be seen through the large glass windows, illuminated by the warm light from inside.

Your hand missed his warmth when he let you go to open the door for you and then you followed him to a free table, with a view of the outside but private enough. All around paintings were decorating and some plants too.

You expected Remus to choose the seat in front of you but he decided that the one next to you was better, with your knees touching under the red table.

“Good evening, welcome,” a young girl, who couldn't be older than your age, greeted you. She was a beautiful redhead and her metal badge said Lily.

After she left a couple of menus, she asked you if you wanted any starters or something to drink, to which you denied.

“I thought we were going to a cafe or something.”

"You don’t like here?” 

“On the contrary, it is too cute. If I had known, I could have worn something better.”

"What are you talking about? You look beautiful,” Remus said, without thinking, and you laughed sheepishly.

“You're not far behind,” your hand went to his neck, where you adjusted a fold “You look like a professor.”

"Is that good or bad?"

“I like the professors. I mean, their style” you stuttered. “They look elegant.”

Although you had never spoken openly about what you felt, both of you had the suspicion that the other person felt the same way. Those moments of indiscreet flirting were signs of this, in addition to the multiple daily actions that showed interest and affection for the other.

Still, Remus felt insecure about himself. The physical marks on him were only the most superficial, since he was too afraid that if he confessed to you about his lycanthropy you would end up being scared or simply believing him crazy. He couldn't talk to you about the magical world and that made it even more complicated.

He didn't have much experience with girls in the romantic sense, but he liked to think that he wasn't doing too badly with you. He really liked you, so he wanted to try as hard as possible to win your heart and hoped that he would be worthy of your affection even despite his various flaws.

When the waitress returned you ordered a glass of wine and Remus simply ordered tea, wanting to be as calm as possible to talk to you. The last thing he wanted was for his statement to be ruined by alcohol.

The moments with him weren't awkward but, honestly, the atmosphere demanded a certain composure and it wasn't until after a while that you started chatting like you always did. You talked about final exams and products to be delivered soon, discussing the topics and making some suggestions that could be useful.

When the girl returned Remus ordered a stew for dinner and you ordered some meat pie which soon arrived. You ate it with pleasure, keeping the conversation when it was appropriate.

“Have you thought about what you will do during the holidays?”

“Probably visit my parents. And if not that, maybe enter a summer seminar”

"Study more?" the brunette laughed.

"It's a possibility. I think it would be too boring if I don't. And you?"

"I don’t know yet. Maybe look for a job, or…”

“Let's take a seminar together,” you murmured excitedly. However, you later added: “I mean, if you want.”

“I might consider it,” he murmured with a tight-lipped smile “So we could spend more time together.”

“It's strange, you know? This semester I have felt so happy studying with you. I didn't think college would be so interesting until I found you in that class."

Remus's heart began to rumble in his chest when he heard you say that and it was inevitable to smile. You liked to see him smile.

“Did I ever tell you I wasn’t sure about going in?”

“To sociology class?”

"To the University"

"Oh really?"

“I thought I could have dedicated myself to something else. In Hog... High School I was a good student and I thought it would be enough to get a job. But James and Sirius entered a college and then I thought I'd do it too."

“Remind me to thank them later,” you joked. If they had not convinced him, you probably would never have met “Will you ever introduce them to me?”

“Do you want to meet them?”

“They are your friends after all, right? But only if you feel comfortable, I wouldn't want to…”

“Okay, that would be great. I just feel a little embarrassed sometimes."

"From me?"

"No! From them. No, don't even think about it from you” he hastened to say and both of you laughed “It's about them. Sometimes they act like idiots, like Sirius did a while ago."

“I thought I was just imagining it, but he's kind of… flirtatious, right?”

"Quite a bit, I would say. I would like it to be limited to girls, but I don't think anyone is safe" he laughed. "But don't worry, he won't bother you anymore now that he knows that you...”

Remus fell silent as he realized what he was about to say and you noticed the sudden interruption.

"That?"

“That you are my friend”

To be honest, the answer disappointed you a little. You had been waiting for any kind of sign or proposal for a while and you thought that statement might have been in the answer. And although Remus already had those plans in mind, you clearly weren't aware of it.

There was silence for a moment as the two of you reflected on the conversation, for different reasons, and you tried to make it less awkward by eating some of your dinner.

“It’s raining,” you said after a while, eager to change the subject “I forgot my umbrella at home”

“We'll figure it out, don't worry,” he said happily, oblivious to the feeling he had provoked in you. You had practically finished your dinner when he asked, “Do you want dessert?”

You nodded at that and ordered a delicious red velvet cake and he, as expected, a chocolate one. After this you tried to talk about something else, convincing yourself that you were thinking about nonsense instead of enjoying the moment with your friend. With the boy you liked. 

At some point he excused himself to go to the bathroom and you were left alone at the table, playing with what was left of food on your plate. You looked around as if expecting to see something interesting, but all you saw was the rain falling outside and a pair of people sitting a few tables away from you. They looked happy and from the way they looked at each other you assumed they were a couple. As you watched them you wondered if that was what people thought when they saw you with Remus, because the way they interacted was the way you did; Is that what other students would say when you spent hours in the library, talking quietly and barely distanced from each other? Did anyone think you were a couple when they saw you laughing lying on the grass at dusk?

You considered the possibility of being the first to confess what you felt and wondered if it would be better to wait. Remus called you sweet names all the time and in the last few weeks he had started to become more physically affectionate; he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, he held your hand from time to time, he even sheltered you in his arms that time you had a terrible morning and all you wanted to do was cry. But did that mean something else or was it just the courtesy of a good friend?

You wanted to continue reflecting on it, but your musings were interrupted by the waitress's voice calling your attention.

"Miss?"

"Yeah?"

"This is for you"

She held a beautiful bouquet of pink carnations with clouds surrounding it, wrapped in white fabric and topped with a ribbon. The sight unsettled you, but out of inertia you extended your hands to hold the gift. It was heavy and gave off a mild smell.

"W-What is this? Who sends it?" 

“The gentleman over there,” she pointed out happily.

For a second you felt nothing but confusion. Had someone been stalking you? You didn't remember anyone you knew when you walked in and receiving flowers from a stranger was ridiculous, because the most you could have imagined was that they would buy you a drink. But when you turned and saw that it was Remus who was smiling shyly at you, you understood what it was about.

“Oh my God…” you whispered barely audible, your cheeks turning red “Thank you, you’re so kind.”

“To serve you” she exclaimed, probably happy to have been a participant in that demonstration of love, and then she withdrew.

Trying to calm yourself down, you turned around to talk to the boy, who was still sitting on the stool in front of the bar. You spent a few seconds looking at each other, him slightly uneasy and you feeling completely blushing.

“Are you not going to accompany me? I have some cake that the boy I was with left”

“You'd have to be a fool to abandon a girl like you,” he muttered on the way to the table. He sat on the opposite side to where he was initially, as if he wanted to maintain the fantasy of being someone else who accompanied you. “Did you like them?”

“They are beautiful, you wouldn't have bothered”

“They have something there” he pointed out and in his eyes you could see some nervousness. You took a paper envelope between your fingers from which you took out a small note.

A modest gift for the most beautiful and interesting girl I have ever met. I feel like you brought color to my life and every day I am happy that you found me, wondering what I did to deserve the grace of such a wonderful human being.

It's been a while since my heart has been uneasy about your feelings towards me and at the same time certain about how it feels about you.

I'm sorry if I'm not that good with words, or that good in general. I just hope I'm enough to win your affection and be lucky enough for you to say yes.

Sincerely, Remus.

The boy watched you with a mixture of anxiety and concern as you read the words, waiting for what your reaction might be. You read the entire note twice, just to be sure it meant what you thought, and then you looked at him.

In your eyes, he had never looked more handsome.

“Say yes?” was the only thing you managed to say. It was the part that intrigued you the most about the note.

“To the question I want to ask you, of course” 

“You're not going to ask me to marry you, are you?” you tried to joke, feeling your heart race with anticipation.

"Not yet. But we can start as girlfriend and boyfriend, what do you say?”

Remus was a very curious guy. He was shy and quiet at times, but when an idea got into his head no force could convince him otherwise: he was determined. And he was sure what he wanted with you.

One of your hands went up to his cheek and your thumb caressed one of his scars, one that went down to touch his lips, feeling free to be able to observe him more closely now that you knew you could do so.

"This bothers you?" you asked sincerely.

"What?"

“That I am touching you like this. Your scars”

"I don't mind. I've gotten used to them."

“That was the first thing I noticed about you.”

“Do you think they are ugly?”

“I think they make you look sexy,” you said honestly again and he let out a laugh that was somewhere between nervous and amused. “They make you stand out.”

You were so close to him that he had to lean just a little to kiss you.

“I don't think anyone has ever said that about them.”

“I really like you, Rem. That's why. And I would like to pretend that I need to think about it more, but I know I would be very happy with you. I already am, but... I want to be with you"

“Is it a yes, then?”

“But first I need to do something” you explained and with the help of your hand, without giving him time for anything, you brought him closer to steal a kiss.

Remus gasped in surprise, but put up no resistance and delighted in feeling the taste of your lips mixing with the chocolate he had previously eaten. You were kind and careful with him, who tried to reciprocate as best as possible. 

When you separated from him, your cheeks were red and your eyes were bright.

“It's a yes”

“Did you need to kiss me to decide?”

“I had already decided, I just wanted an excuse.”

And then Remus laughed again. Unable to contain his excitement, he approached you until he hid his face in your neck, trying to drown out his blush, and you felt tickled by his hair rubbing against your skin. Now the closeness of that way between you was correct, no one could say anything and you had the right to do so.

“I was so afraid you would say no.”

“Have you seen how I look at you?” you murmured in his ear “To be so intelligent you miss a lot of things.”

His breathing told you that he was laughing and then you were silent for a moment. Your hand slowly caressed his side while you traced patterns on his back, although he probably didn't feel them because of the layers of clothing he was wearing. Through it all, you thought about how nice the boy's warmth felt against you. Like it felt meant to be.

“We should go,” he said, when he finally left his room and looked at the time on the wall clock. Closing time was almost approaching. “Is it okay if I call a taxi to take you home?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll go pay the bill and be right back, okay?”

“Let me give you some money…”

"No way. No,” he stated firmly. He got up from his seat and, by the way, now he stole a kiss from you “Wait here.”

You did it obediently and while you did it you took the opportunity to observe and caress your bouquet. They were beautiful and you wondered how Remus had planned the delivery. It hadn't been something spontaneous, he already knew the purpose of the date from the beginning and that only made you feel more like a girl in love.

He showed up a few minutes later and, after thanking your red-headed cupid profusely, you waited for your taxi at a table near the exit. When it arrived you practically had to run to avoid the rain, but that didn't matter to you because while you were doing it the brunette held your hand to prevent any accident.

The elderly driver started the engine after you told him your address and silence reigned for a moment, with only the barely audible music from the radio.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” you asked, after a few blocks. No one lived with you and it seemed cruel to you to send Remus back to his apartment.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“There is enough space. And you must be tired”

You weren't trying to make a sexual innuendo in your words. You just wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

Remus agreed without much resistance and upon arriving at your apartment, which fortunately was in order, he was respectful by telling you that he could sleep on the couch if you wanted. He seemed so decent to you that you accepted his proposal, taking charge of bringing him enough blankets and pillows to make him comfortable.

He had already taken off his shoes and jacket when you sat down next to him to wish him goodnight. You didn't think he would look much more handsome unkempt and with disheveled hair than he did at first.

"Thanks for the invitation"

“It's the least I could do after everything today,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Was it a good date?”

“It was a great date” you exclaimed honestly and for the third time that night you approached him to kiss him.

This time you took the time to savor the contact, prolonging it as much as possible and causing a spark to settle between you. Remus quickly learned that your lips were soft and definitely more expert than his, with all of that making him feel a little dizzy. You reveled in the feeling of his large hands holding your waist, not knowing where else it was correct to place them. If you could have, you would have kissed him all night, but you separated only because you knew that the desire existed in you and him, afraid that if you followed your prudence wouldn’t be enough to stop you from making love to him on that sofa.

He looked completely enthralled with you as you watched him and you knew you most likely had the same expression. After all, so many months of longing between you were summed up in the pleasure of that physical contact that you were discovering.

“Go to sleep, pretty,” he suggested “I'll be here in the morning.”

“Good night, Remus. If you need anything, go to my room, okay?”

A part of you wanted him to look for you in the middle of the night, but you knew that both of you were hesitant to make any moves to go to such extremes. The boy just nodded and then, still not convinced, you headed towards your room so you could sleep.

That night Remus dreamed of you and you dreamed of him, with the sound of the rain lulling you, only a few meters away between you, and a beautiful bouquet resting on your nightstand.

You didn't know if that was happiness, but at least that's what it felt like.

[theineffablesociety]

I'd like to plan a Good Omens meetup for Saturday October 19th, 2024. Poll below!

Edit: If you're looking for the Discord link, please message me!

We're currently looking at a hotel in Langhorne, PA that has a good bit of space. Just need to see about availability and cost.

For our immunocompromised and vulnerable fellow fans who plan to attend, we're going to include a masking policy in our event spaces and hallway/foyer outside those rooms. We'll have extras available.

All ages welcome; under 18 must attend with a guardian.

-

Start original message:

The Ineffable Society Meetup is a thought that's brewed in my brain since June 2023 when a bunch of local GO fans chanced to meet for the first time at the King of Prussia PA screening of series 2 episode 1 and 2.

It is time to stop brewing and let others contribute.

Here's my initial thoughts:

I'm willing to organize but not alone. We'll need to work together.

I live near Philadelphia, PA so this is the area I'm willing to do what needs doing primarily in Eastern PA, Central NJ, surrounding areas therein.

I'd want everyone attending to be 18 or older, please. I encourage those 17 and under to organize something together!

Taking suggestions for type of venues to host, think like a family reunion or larger.

I'm not interested in handling money, so would seek at least 2 people to oversee financials if that comes into play. (Finances might be needed to cover renting a space, any printed materials, little swag gifts.)

As mentioned, Saturday October 19th. Because it's close to the Earth's Birthday. :3

Afternoon through evening could be good. Maybe a 3 hour window on the small end; most of the day on the larger end. Will depend on location and on how many helpers step up.

Good Omens related fun: encouraging cosplay, script book readings, discussions, games, swaps. Maybe screening an episode together (there's copyright law to contend with here though). Depending on how much time we have together and space. Simplest plan would be an informal Good Omens afternoon mixer type.

If fewer than 12 people are interested:

We could just meetup at a restaurant that has a function room! (Not super ideal for allergies, as there's probably nowhere that's good for everyone. But does it in a pinch. And would probably not be a big up-front cost. Often there's a small room fee and then the assumption everyone will eat.)

If more than 12 up to 40 people are interested:

We might consider renting some conference rooms at a small hotel. (That does make it easier for people to find accommodations: already there! At a hotel! Downside is this will require chipping in.)

Any more than 40 people and uhhh... We'll figure it out.

WHAT I NEED TO KNOW FROM YOU

There will be more questions to follow, but most important one is below.

Please answer YES if you are:

A Good Omens fan

18 or older

In the Eastern PA to Central NJ area

Or are otherwise willing, able, and interested to go there

For transparency. A little about me:

I'm North (SeedsOfWinter). They/he.

Over the past two and a half decades, I've organized or been a member of organizations that planned meetups, game nights, reunions, and nerd events for friends and strangers alike.

I've been a Good Omens fan since June 2019. I run @rareomens. I am a mod for @ineffableeraszine and @bildadzine. I was a mod for the Our Side Zines, Pin Me Up 2, and many more. I was a founding admin for the LGBTQIA+ Fans of Good Omens groups.

I've been part of convention presentations for Good Omens at The Ineffable Con (virtual) and DragonCon (in-person, Atlanta GA). I love to organize fan photoshoots and meetups.

I know that any attempt at gathering people requires a team to make it happen; and that there's pitfalls and perils to all of it, especially when you're dealing with a bunch of possible strangers meeting for the first time! But the end result (you all getting a chance to connect together as fans) is feeling pretty worth it.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Dangancember 2024 - Danganronpa Top 24 Class Trials - NUMBER 2🥈: Danganronpa 2 Case 5

//I'm willing to bet that almost EVERYBODY thought this one was going to get Number 1 on this list, and to be fair, when I did a ranking years back, it DID get the reward for my best case back on Reddit.

//But in case this list, compared to that one, isn't evidence enough, my opinions have changed a bit.

//I feel the need to remind everyone that this ranking is based primarily on my general feeling of each of these cases, taking into account the characterization, investigation, general mystery, plot twists, etc. If we were ranking this purely on investigation and mystery, without my personal feelings towards a case involved, this one would be Number 1.

//When it comes to Danganronpa cases, Game 2 Case 5 is not just the crown jewel; it’s the one everyone expects to see perched at the top of any "best trials" list.

//And yes, I hear you already, "Oh, how predictable. Case 5 at the top? How original!"

//But let’s face it, sometimes the popular opinion is popular for a reason. I don’t do contrarianism for sport, folks. If something’s obvious because it’s correct, then I’m not going to waste time pretending otherwise.

//Could I have slapped some other case here, like 1-2 or V3-1, to make things spicy? I think it's spicy enough that this one isn't Number 1, but that aside, we’re not here for hot takes; we’re here to appreciate brilliance, and Case 5 is absolutely, unequivocally, that case.

//Now, let’s address the elephant in the room, or perhaps the giant robotic animal mascot if we’re staying on brand. This case is legendary for reasons beyond just "it’s good."

//Put simply, there is no other video game or mystery-themed franchise that could pull this case off OTHER than DANGANRONPA.

//It’s part mystery, part madness, and 100% the kind of twist-riddled storytelling that no one can replicate. You’d need the full chaotic toolkit of Danganronpa’s narrative rule-breaking, character complexity, and absurd-but-brilliant logic leaps. Without those, you’re just a murder mystery fan with a dream.

//Why does this case stand out so much? Because it takes what we think we know about how these games work, how mysteries work, really, and throws it straight into Monokuma’s metaphorical incinerator. In most murder mysteries, the setup is fairly predictable: Person A offs Person B, usually for some selfish reason, like wanting freedom or holding a grudge.

//Danganronpa usually follows that formula, with the added twist of a deadly game show setting. But then along comes Case 5, flipping the script so hard it leaves you reeling. It doesn’t just upend expectations; it takes them out back, ties them to a rocket, and blasts them into space.

//And yet, it’s not just shock value. Beneath the twists and turns, this trial is meticulously crafted, intertwining its revelations with the overarching story in ways that make your brain do somersaults. It’s equal parts emotionally devastating and intellectually satisfying. If you’re a fan of intricate mysteries and gut-punching twists, this case isn’t just going to impress you, it’s going to live rent-free in your mind forever.

But don’t take my word for it (well, okay, do, since you’re reading my review). This case’s reputation precedes it. If you’ve played it, you know. And if you haven’t…well, let’s just say, the bar for storytelling in murder mystery games is about to be set unreachably high.

//Let's dive in!

//Let’s be real: by this point in time, you’re knee-deep into this game, so many are dead, and you know something’s about to go down with Nagito Komaeda. The ominous buildup and his increasingly unhinged behavior practically scream, “Buckle up, this is gonna get wild.”

//So when you eventually stumble upon his body, it’s not exactly shocking that he’s the victim. What is shocking, however, is everything else about this chapter. The setup, the stakes, the twists, and oh boy, the absolutely brutal state of his corpse. Seriously, if you thought previous trials in this game had upped the ante, Chapter 5 snaps the bar in two and sets it on fire for good measure.

//The setup alone is chaos incarnate: Nagito has hidden bombs around Jabberwock Island and cheerfully announces that if they go off, the entire island and everyone on it will sink straight into the ocean. Naturally, this sends the remaining students—Hajime, Chiaki, Fuyuhiko, Akane, Kazuichi, and Sonia—into panic mode as they scramble to defuse them.

//Just when they manage to avert what feels like certain doom, they discover a warehouse is suddenly engulfed in flames. Conveniently (or suspiciously?), fire grenades are nearby, and the group decides to toss them into the inferno in an attempt to extinguish it.

//Crisis averted, right?

//Wrong.

//When the smoke clears, they find Nagito’s lifeless body inside, and it’s unlike anything the series has thrown at you before.

//Let’s talk about that body discovery scene because…wow. Danganronpa doesn’t shy away from gruesome, but Nagito’s death takes the cake. His body is covered in cuts, there’s a knife stabbed straight through his right hand, and, as the pièce de résistance, a massive spear is impaled directly through his chest. It’s horrifying, grotesque, and easily one of the most graphic and unforgettable discoveries in the entire series. If you’re not audibly gasping by this point, you might need to check your pulse.

//But here’s where things get really interesting: despite being the victim, Nagito is also the villain of this chapter. His death isn’t just the result of some random grudge or desperation; it’s an intricately planned act designed to manipulate and torment everyone left alive.

//It’s peak Nagito. Brilliant, twisted, and utterly maddening.

//I don't know if I can talk about Nagito himself without repeating things that I've already said, because he’s come up multiple times in this countdown already (and spoiler alert, he’s not done yet), and for good reason.

//Calling him "memorable" feels like the understatement of the century. This guy is the embodiment of chaos, and his very existence has transcended the game to become a full-blown meme.

//But there’s a reason for that: Nagito isn’t just weird; he’s fascinating. He’s the kind of character who sticks in your brain long after the credits roll, equal parts horrifying and hypnotic.

//What makes Nagito so unique is his complexity. On the surface, he seems like an unassuming guy with a fairly mundane talent. But peel back the layers, and you’ll find one of the most manipulative, unsettling, and downright creepy characters in gaming history. His self-loathing is palpable, but it’s overshadowed by his ability to twist every situation to his advantage, or just to create absolute bedlam at ease.

//He’s so committed to his warped version of "hope" that he’s willing to employ the most extreme, morally dubious methods to achieve it. In many ways, he’s the second game’s true antagonist, even if he doesn’t fit the traditional mold. Fuck Junko and Izuru.

//And Case 5 is essentially Nagito’s magnum opus. It’s the culmination of everything that makes him such a standout character: his intelligence, his unpredictability, his disturbing charisma, and his willingness to do whatever it takes, even die, to prove his point. The result is a chapter that feels less like a murder mystery and more like an elaborate psychological chess match.

//So, while Chapter 5 might technically be about solving Nagito’s death, it’s really about unraveling Nagito himself. His influence permeates every aspect of the case, making it one of the most unforgettable and genre-defining moments in Danganronpa history.

//The investigation is okay, but again, as I said for 1-2, it's how they all culminate into the trial that it really works, so let's not waste any more time, and actually get into talking about that.

//For starters, I want to say that the pacing of this trial is BRILLIANT. Every twist and turn feels meticulously timed to keep you on the edge of your seat, while the ideas introduced all tie into the case’s central themes, on top of being innately shocking.

//When the students first discover Nagito’s body, the sheer brutality of the scene makes it look like he was tortured for information before being killed. There are cuts all over his body, a knife impaled through his hand, and that massive spear skewering his chest like the world’s most horrifying centerpiece. It screams “murder most foul,” and naturally, the students start theorizing about who could’ve done something so horrific.

//But quickly, they realize that it wouldn't make sense for someone torture Nagito for information if his mouth was duct-taped shut. Though Kazuichi especially argues for it, that one little detail flips the entire narrative on its head. If he couldn’t speak, then the torture couldn’t have been for interrogation.

//The students realize this, and their next leap in logic is to suspect that maybe Nagito wasn’t murdered at all. What if he orchestrated his own death?

//After all, this is Nagito we’re talking about, a guy who thrives on chaos and has a disturbingly cavalier attitude toward his own life. Using the rope attached to the spear, it seems plausible that he could’ve rigged a setup to drop the weapon onto himself, making it look like an elaborate suicide.

//This is...somewhat true. But in true Danganronpa fashion, the obvious answer is never the correct one. The suicide theory falls apart under closer scrutiny, leaving the students, and the player, scrambling for answers.

That’s when the horrifying truth comes to light, and boy, does it hit like that fire truck that killed Celeste.

//Nagito set up the scene so that the warehouse he died in would catch on fire once the students opened the door. To get through, the rest of the group grapped a bunch of fire grenades to put the fire out, and all of them grabbed at least one, and threw it into the flames.

//However, this single act causes them to plummet head first into the trap that had been set for them.

//Nagito, ever the agent of chaos, actually rigged one of the fire grenades with lethal poison gas. When the students threw the grenades to extinguish the warehouse fire, one of them tossed the poison grenade, dispersing the gas and killing him. Suddenly, what seemed like a murder mystery or a suicide case becomes something far more twisted.

//And here’s the kicker: nobody knows who threw the poison grenade. Not even the person who actually did it!

//By mixing the poison grenade with the others, Nagito ensured that the identity of his killer would be COMPLETELY RANDOM. This wasn’t just a murder; it was a gamble, a deadly game of Russian roulette where none of the participants even knew they were playing. As I said it’s the kind of mind-bending twist that only Danganronpa could pull off, and it perfectly encapsulates Nagito’s philosophy of chaotic hope.

//Monokuma obviously knows which student threw the poisoned grenade as well, and obviously, if the students get it wrong, they are ALL SCREWED.

//The brilliance of this setup is how utterly hopeless it makes the trial feel. Class trials are all about deduction, piecing together clues, and eventually uncovering the truth. But how do you solve a case where even the killer doesn’t know they’re the killer?

//For the first time in the series, it feels like there’s no way forward, no light at the end of the tunnel. The murder is, quite literally, impossible to solve using traditional methods. It’s a masterstroke in subverting the player’s expectations while also reinforcing the themes of despair and uncertainty that define the series.

//This moment also highlights why Nagito is such a standout character. Only he could come up with something so convoluted, so meticulously planned, and yet so chaotic at its core. He turns the class trial, a system designed to uncover truth and punish the guilty, into an instrument of despair.

//By making the killer’s identity random, Nagito forces the group to confront the idea that justice might not always be attainable. It’s a chilling reminder of how far he’s willing to go to prove his warped ideals about Hope and Despair.

//Thematically, this case is a perfect storm. It pushes the students to their absolute limits, not just intellectually but emotionally as well. How do you come to terms with a murder that has no clear perpetrator? How do you move forward when the very foundations of the game’s rules have been shaken?

//The trial becomes less about solving the mystery and more about grappling with the moral and philosophical questions it raises. It’s a level of depth and complexity that sets it apart from anything else in the series.

//Of course, this wouldn’t be a Danganronpa trial without a good dose of drama and tension. Watching the students wrestle with their guilt, fear, and confusion as they try to piece together the puzzle from start to finish, and then reach the absolutely horrifying situation they land in, is both heartbreaking and riveting. The stakes, genuinely, never reach higher than this, and the outcome feels completely uncertain and TERRIFYING.

//By the time the truth is revealed, you’re left in awe of the sheer audacity of the writing. It’s the kind of storytelling that leaves a lasting impression, long after the game is over.

//Ultimately, what makes this so effective is how it combines narrative brilliance with gameplay innovation. It’s not just about what happens, but how it makes you feel as a player. You’re questioning everything you thought you knew about how these trials work. It’s a case that breaks the rules, challenges your expectations, and delivers a story that’s as thought-provoking as it is shocking.

//But if you thought we were done, no, we aren't quite yet. What comes after this kicks the trial into a, somehow, HIGHER gear.

//Despite Nagito’s seemingly impossible-to-solve murder, the students DO manage to piece together the truth. And the resolution is haunting, depressing, and brilliantly layered, as it ties back to one of the game’s longest-running mysteries:

//The identity of the traitor.

//Monokuma drops the first breadcrumb early in the story, mentioning that the island was prepared for specifically 15 students but somehow, this group ended up with 16.

//This anomaly immediately plants the suspicion that one of the students is a traitor working for, what we eventually discover, is the supposedly evil "World Ender Organization." It’s a mystery that looms over the entire game, and Nagito, being Nagito, becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth.

//This obsession drives much of Nagito’s increasingly erratic behavior. His bizarre stunts, from his cryptic speeches to the explosive warehouse gambit, are all rooted in his desperation to expose the traitor. Though his motives aren't quite what they seem.

//The events of Chapter 5 are essentially his ultimate gambit for this mission: an elaborate plan to force the traitor to reveal themselves by staging an unsolvable murder.

//But this isn’t just about solving a mystery. Nagito, in his twisted logic, decides that sacrificing himself is a small price to pay if it means exposing the traitor and their connection to the World Ender. If everyone else has to die as collateral damage? Well, that’s just fine with him. It’s peak Nagito, both brilliant and horrifying.

//But...if this plan is at risk of killing everyone, and the poisoned grenade was thrown by a random person, how exactly was it supposed to work?

//What makes this trial so exceptional is how it builds on a recurring theme in Danganronpa 2: the way characters use their Ultimate Talents to achieve their goals. Each case in the game showcases this idea in unique ways.

Teruteru uses his cooking skills to conceal a murder weapon.

Peko exploits her swordsmanship to stage a clever escape.

Mikan manipulates her role as a nurse to fabricate an alibi.

Gundham weaponizes his hamsters to immobilize his victim.

//But this trial falls into this theme while also switching it up, by making the victim the one who uses their talent to manipulate the outcome. And Nagito’s Ultimate Lucky Student talent once again takes center stage, and its application here is as ingenious as it is unsettling.

//Nagito’s luck is unlike Makoto’s relatively tame version in the first game. It’s tangible, almost supernatural, and eerily consistent. Whether it’s winning a game of Russian Roulette with an almost fully loaded revolver in Chapter 4 or orchestrating the chaos of this trial, Nagito’s luck always seems to tilt events in his favor, even when it’s to his detriment.

//This trial showcases his mastery of his talent, as he uses it to create a scenario so convoluted that solving it requires an extraordinary leap of faith. It’s a testament to how his character embodies the unpredictable nature of luck, both as a tool and as a weapon.

//When the students are left with no other options, Hajime proposes a bold theory: the person Nagito was targeting with his poison grenade must be the traitor. With the clock ticking and no clear path forward, the group takes a gamble and calls for the traitor to reveal themselves. And here’s where the trial delivers one of its most gut-wrenching twists.

//Instead of the group uncovering the traitor through deduction, the traitor steps forward voluntarily. It’s Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer and a beloved figure in the story.

//Chiaki’s betrayal is particularly heartbreaking because of how central she’s been to the trial system in Danganronpa 2. She is effectively Hajime's equivelant to what Kyoko was for Makoto, being his closest ally, and often providing critical insights and support during investigations and debates. Her calm demeanor and love for her friends make her an endearing presence, so her reveal as the traitor feels like a betrayal not just to the characters but to the player as well.

//Even if I've always felt Chiaki might be a bit overrated, it’s hard not for me to feel a pang of sadness as the truth comes to light. And yet, this reveal also solidifies the brilliance of Nagito’s plan. His twisted methods worked: he exposed the traitor, even at the cost of his own life.

//Genuinely, the reaction to Chiaki stepping forward as the traitor is one of the most soul-crushing scenes in the game thus far, and for good reason.

//Chiaki is the most perfect candidate to play the role of the final killer in this game, because she’s the one student on the island that everyone universally adores. She’s the epitome of the "can do no wrong" character. Which for me personally, is something I've never liked about her, but it does work in the buildup to this revelation.

//She’s sweet, dependable, and always there to lend a hand during trials with her sharp insights and calm demeanor, just as her supposed "father" Chihiro was. The same applies to Kaito in V3, as he's the universally loved wildcard who shoulders a heavy emotional weight heading into the endgame.

//So, when Chiaki confesses to being the traitor and asks the group to vote for her so they can save themselves, her classmates react in the most predictable way possible: absolute, unrelenting denial.

//Instead of nodding grimly and doing what needs to be done like every other time, they outright refuse, dragging their heels like stubborn toddlers who don’t want to eat their vegetables. Watching this unfold is both heartbreaking and oddly hilarious, as it highlights just how much the group collectively loves her.

//Hajime, bless his poor, conflicted soul, finds himself in the unenviable position of having to convince the group to face reality. This includes arguing against everyone, particularly against Sonia, who is especially resistant to the idea.

//Imagine trying to sell an unflattering truth about someone universally beloved while standing in a room full of people who would rather rewrite history than accept it. That’s exactly what Hajime has to do. Everyone goes to great lengths to deny Chiaki’s guilt, even twisting their earlier testimony to absolve Chiaki, and it’s like watching a courtroom drama where the defense lawyer loves their client so much they’re trying to argue the laws of physics out of existence.

//What makes this sequence so powerful is how the game adjusts its tone and pacing to reflect the emotional gravity of the situation. The trial’s usual high-energy minigames, complete with intense, upbeat tones and kickass music, suddenly shift into something quieter, heavier.

//Take Sonia’s Rebuttal Showdown, for instance. The usual sword-clashing music is replaced with a somber track, setting a melancholic mood. This silence isn’t just an absence of sound, it’s a deafening reminder of the emotional stakes at play.

//Even Hajime’s iconic "No, that’s wrong!" line is replaced by more desperate, sorrowful dialogue, hammering home the fact that despite arguing against, her, he, above EVERYBODY ELSE HERE, wants to accuse Chiaki THE LEAST.

//But he knows he must. She’s essentially asking him to kill her so that the others can live, and he’s left with no choice but to comply. It's tragic, raw, and incredibly effective storytelling.

//As if the emotional gut punches weren’t enough, the trial then drops a bombshell about the overarching narrative: the Future Foundation, which had been framed as the antagonist group, are actually the good guys. Chiaki and Monomi, as their representative, was working against Despair all along.

//This twist retroactively reframes the story, making Chiaki’s betrayal feel even more bittersweet. Monomi’s steadfast support of the group also takes on a new light, as her actions were driven by a desire to protect them, not manipulate them like they all believed. It’s the kind of twist that makes you sit back and rethink everything you’ve assumed about the game up to this point.

//And then there’s Nagito, whose insane brilliance looms large over this trial. At first, his actions seem designed to expose Chiaki as the traitor and ensure her execution. But after the trial, it becomes clear that his motives were far more complex, and arguably even more unhinged.

//After discovering that the other students were former Remnants of Despair, key players in Junko Enoshima’s plans, Nagito developed an intense self-loathing and a burning hatred for his classmates that completely paralleled his initial admiration of them. In a bizarre twist of logic, he decided the traitor was the only good person among them and concocted this elaborate trap to ensure their survival.

//Nagito’s plan, of course, hinges on his Ultimate Luck, which he uses to make the trial seemingly impossible to solve, and his hope was that Chiaki, as the traitor, would survive by default while the rest of the group received a wrong verdict and were executed. It’s a plan so convoluted and morally dubious that you almost have to admire the audacity of it.

//However, it’s also hilariously short-sighted upon reflection. Killing everyone except Chiaki would have effectively handed victory to AI Junko, whose goal was to plunge the world into even greater Despair. Of course, Nagito had no way of knowing that, but it's still funny to think about that had Hajime and Chiaki not been able to stop his plan, Junko would have won.

//In hindsight, Nagito’s plan might seem downright idiotic, but it’s this blend of genius and madness that makes his character so compelling. The sheer absurdity of his actions adds a layer of dark humor to the trial, even as the emotional stakes reach their peak. It’s a masterclass in how to balance tension, tragedy, and character-driven storytelling.

//The effectiveness of this lies in how it forces you to confront uncomfortable truths. Chiaki’s true identity, Nagito’s madness, and the group’s denial all intertwine to create a narrative that’s as heartbreaking as it is unforgettable.

//It’s a rollercoaster of emotions, packed with twists and turns that redefine what a Danganronpa trial can be. If the goal was to leave a lasting impression, this chapter more than delivers. And let’s be real: who doesn’t love a trial that combines emotional devastation with a side of absurdity?

//The revelation that Chiaki unknowingly threw the poison grenade ties everything together in a tragic bow. The class trial’s conclusion sees Chiaki and Monomi executed in a sequence that’s as heart-wrenching as it is inevitable. Nagito’s gamble paid off, but at what cost?

//The fallout from this trial leaves the remaining students reeling, their hearts shattered and their resolve tested like never before. It’s a moment that defines the series, not just for its shocking twists but for its emotional depth and philosophical complexity.

//What makes this trial so effective is how it uses every element of the Danganronpa formula to maximum effect. The mystery is intricate and satisfying, the stakes are sky-high, and the emotional weight of the characters’ decisions is palpable.

//It also serves as a perfect showcase of how the class trial system can be manipulated. This concept is revisited in Danganronpa V3, where Kokichi and Kaito pull off a similar stunt to challenge Monokuma’s control.

//I want to end this review by going over basically all the key points of why this trial is amazing, even though I have already done some analysis here already, and I admit, a lot of this will be repeating myself.

//But to make this review as official as it can be, I need to make sure the information is presented well. I can break down why this trial is fantastic into 5 main catagory's.

#1: This trial massively subverts the formula.

//The Danganronpa series has a well-established formula: a murder occurs, the class investigates, a culprit is identified, and they’re executed. Rinse and repeat, right? It’s a satisfying loop for those who love unraveling mysteries and piecing together evidence, but just as you start to feel like you’ve cracked the game’s rhythm, this trial throws an absolute curveball.

//The Danganronpa series thrives on its formula of uncovering killers, but Case 5 in Goodbye Despair flips the script in spectacular fashion. Instead of a straightforward murder, it begins with what looks like a suicide, leaving players and characters scrambling to make sense of Nagito’s maddeningly intricate setup. With no clear culprit, the trial forces you to rethink how cases are solved entirely.

//Nagito’s genius lies in using his Ultimate Luck to orchestrate an elaborate plan where every clue feels like a trap. By staging his own death and planting conflicting evidence, he creates an unsolvable mystery to expose the traitor among his classmates. This subversion of expectations turns the investigation into a mental labyrinth, testing the player’s logic like never before.

//The trial doesn’t just break the usual flow; it’s a deep dive into Nagito’s twisted obsession with hope and despair. His plan, theatrical and chaotic, challenges everyone to grapple with impossible choices. It’s peak Nagito—equal parts brilliance and insanity.

//Speaking of...

#2: Nagito’s Genius and Madness

Nagito's role in Case 5 is nothing short of mind-bending, as he masterfully pulls double duty as both the victim and the mastermind. Only Nagito could turn his own death into a trap, complete with poison, a fire grenade, and a spear, because why use one method when you can use three and confuse everyone in the process?

//It’s a move that’s equal parts genius and absolutely unhinged, perfectly reflecting his complex character.

//What makes this setup so effective is how it’s not just a murder but a moral battlefield. Nagito’s goal isn’t just to die but to force his classmates to uncover the identity of the traitor hiding among them. This escalates the already high stakes into a psychological tug-of-war, where trust erodes and tensions boil over.

//Nagito’s twisted ideals of hope and despair come to life in this trial, making his actions as brilliant as they are baffling. His chaotic orchestration is both a testament to his intellect and a reminder that, in the world of Danganronpa, no situation is ever as simple as it seems, especially when he is involved.

#3: Chiaki's Death

//Chiaki's reveal as both the killer and the traitor is an emotional wrecking ball disguised as a plot twist. Up until this moment, Chiaki has been the group’s rock, dependable, sweet, and seemingly incapable of harm.

//Learning she’s the traitor completely flips the script, forcing one to rethink every smile, every piece of advice, and every moment of quiet solidarity they’ve shared with her.

//It’s like finding out your favorite cozy sweater has been secretly plotting against you this whole time. The twist doesn’t just pull the rug out from under you; it sets the whole floor on fire.

#4: The Complexity, the Detail, and the general Presentation

This trial is a masterclass in making players second-guess everything they thought they knew. From unraveling how poison ended up in a fire grenade to deciphering Nagito’s absurdly elaborate setup, the mechanics of this case are both brain-bending and deeply satisfying.

//Every tiny clue matters, and the game’s pacing doles out twists like it’s hosting a plot twist buffet, except every dish leaves you more anxious than the last.

//The atmosphere is dialed up to eleven, with every element working in perfect harmony to mess with your emotions. The ominous tension builds like a slow-motion train wreck you can’t look away from, and when the trial reaches its devastating crescendo during Chiaki’s execution. It’s the musical equivalent of someone punching you in the soul, ensuring the emotional impact of this case lingers long after the trial gavel falls.

And #5: The Themes and Emotional Impact

//Nagito's actions are the embodiment of his twisted mantra: hope born through despair. His scheme is a masterstroke of chaos, forcing the group to grapple with betrayal, sacrifice, and their commitment to surviving together.

//Chiaki’s tragic death serves as a painful but pivotal moment, galvanizing the group to push forward despite their grief. It’s a gut-wrenching reminder of the game’s central theme: even in the bleakest moments, hope can still shine through, though it might leave you sobbing into your controller.

//Unraveling Nagito’s convoluted plot is satisfying on an intellectual level, but the real punch comes when you realize the cost of discovering the truth.

//Chiaki’s confession, laced with bittersweet acceptance, and the group’s collective sorrow turn the courtroom into a theater of heartbreak. By the end, you’re not just grappling with the logical fallout of Nagito’s manipulation, you’re left questioning your emotional capacity to survive the gauntlet of despair Danganronpa throws at you.

//And...that's about it. There really isn't that much to say that hasn't been said already. Ultimately, this trial is the most series-defining chapter in Danganronpa history, and every other trial should stand by its example.

//It encapsulates everything that makes the series special: the blend of hope and despair, the unpredictable twists, and the deeply human conflicts at its core. It’s not just a murder mystery; it’s a philosophical puzzle, a character study, and a testament to the creative heights of the genre.

//No wonder it stands tall as one of the best moments in the series, if not its crowning achievement. And personally, I do believe that it's hands down the best case in the entire franchise.

//...

//Except for one...

[hinamie]

Hellooooo, I've been loving the jjk x atla au, it's been living in my brain rent free!

Do you have any songs you associate with this au?

Also, please share any lore tidbits you have on Megumi! I know he's a very central character so I don't want to ask for plotty/spoiler-y details, but I'm so curious on him based on all the artwork you've dropped! I've been theorizing like crazy!

Thank you for all the amazing art! I see your work and I get very motivated to draw and/or write :)

hello!! that's so sweet of u to say i'm thrilled u like it so much!! can't believe it's been one month of straight brainrot already gHJGFJGJ

for music--YES we have a whole playlist actually but here r some of my favourite songs from it

House of Wax - Point Blank Society: VERY lmhs megu coded lyrics if u know u know smile :) ,, "Time stands still / I don't deserve you"..,,,yeah thats him thats my gay little emo boy

A Tear in Space (Airlock) - Glass Animals: *the* LMHS song of all time i wrote a brief thesis on how it simultaneously fits itfs and stsg and the nuances on how it applies to each ship respectively,,, the way sam and i lost our minds when this dropped was concerning . oughhhh if i could animate the animatic i would drop for this song.,,,,,, anyway.

Goliath - Former Vandal: ik i said house of wax was megu coded but this is THE lmhs megumi song i don't care what anyone says. yes it's fv bc i have a problem but this is MY (co-owned) SANDBOX AND I PICK THE CHARACTER SONGS. "I've forgotten how to swim / From pretending that I don't know how" im clawing my eyes out actually

onto megu lore !! you're correct he's a Very central character hjdsgf I can't believe main character megu /still/ managed to happen in this avatar yuuji fic . that being said here r some of the most non-spoilery yet interesting lore bits sam and I could scrounge up!

despite being a waterbender born in the northern water tribes, he has been living on the streets in the earth kingdom since he was 10

he frequents fighting rings (sanctioned and not) in order to earn enough money to scrape by . pit fighter lmhs megu ladies and gays

he had two sled dogs as a kid that sadly did not come with him to the earth kingdom . side note we could not in good conscience take the easy road and name them shiro/kuro so i came up with names all of 10 minutes ago white = yukiya (lit: "snow arrow") black = shimo (lit: "frost")

megumi's favourite colour is red :)

please direct any atla!au/lmhs questions to @lmhsfic!

[eggcompany]

Julian, On My Knees Part1

Young, broke, omega Julian Pankratz, Jaskier, finds a place to live. Sharing a nice little flat in the good part of town with a fit older alpha who's daughter just moved out. The room is perfect, his own bathroom, and his flatmate is probably the most gentle yet stern, buff and beautiful, and sweetest smelling alpha he's ever encountered. It's just perfect

At least he thought so. Stupid thin walls, stupid heat brain.

“Hi! You must be Mister Rivia! I’m Julian Alfred but everyone calls me Jaskier. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance.” The young man said quickly, in a chirpy way as his hand stuck out as soon as the front door swung open. His eyes squinted with how widely he smiled, the picture of happiness and joy. 

Geralt shook his hand, taking in the chipper man. 

He was nearly as tall as the older alpha, which was surprising but welcomed. He’d be able to reach all the shelves, Geralt thought as he took stock. The boy had messy brown hair and a round baby face. Soft pink cheeks, sparkling blue eyes, smooth summer sun tinted skin, clean and nice. So much more beautiful than his profile picture. 

Geralt nodded, turning to let the omega into the apartment, waving him in with a hand. 

“Hmm, this is the flat. Bathroom’s over there. I have my own so that’s yours. That’s my room, you can knock if you need anything, I work from home mostly. There’s a mini fridge in your room, it’s older but if you want it out, I can remove it. The living room, the kitchen, I prep my food so please don’t mess with my containers. I split it down the middle with electric tape to make it easier but it’s not a strict line.” Geralt explained as he walked the other man around the house, pointing at doors. He couldn’t help but glance at the wide smile on the omega’s face. 

He’d explained the apartment over text when the boy said he was interested. It didn’t take Geralt long to take the ad down and decide Julian Pankratz was the only applicant. He was young, only 22 years old, worked part time at a coffee shop and part time riding his bike around delivering food. He was an aspiring musician, liked staying in and watching movies, didn’t have many friends in the city, and most importantly, he was an unwed, unmated Omega. Someone who wouldn’t be bringing another alpha into the house at all hours of the night stinking up Geralt’s space. 

Geralt knew another alpha in the house would only cause trouble. Betas didn’t like all the rules about scenting in Geralt’s building, and most of the Omegas interested so far were 18 year olds who wanted someone to look after them once they left their parents house. 

Julian, Jaskier, was different. He’d said he wanted some freedom and space, just wanting one person to live with so he didn’t get lonely but would let him be his own person. Someone to have his back and talk to but wouldn’t smother him or try to parent him. Seemed like a good fit. 

Geralt smiled a bit, amused, when Jaskier’s eyes widened and explored the kitchen, opening the fridge and cabinets. He almost forgot what it was like to be around someone with enthusiasm about everyday things, a youthful bounce in their step. 

Jaskier couldn’t hold in his excitement. The space was big and open, cool grey flooring with a big rug in the living room and well loved black leather couch and matching recliner, the tv was huge, the kitchen was huge, the cabinets were spacious, the fridge was big and had a nice freezer, and it smelled amazing, like warmth and clean laundry and a little like leather shoes. It was so much bigger than what Jaskier was hoping for, and so much bigger than what it should be for the price they had agreed to. 

“Wow this is nice! I’m so excited! The last flat I was in had two bedrooms and I lived with seven people. I’ll make sure to pay rent on time and keep my space clean, sir. But um… can I ask you something about the room?” Jaskier asked as they made their way to the slightly ajar door. He stopped short of it, not reaching for the doorknob but standing patiently. 

Geralt waited a minute for the boy to continue but Jaskier was waiting for the Alpha’s permission. Geralt liked that, it was respectful and pet something ingrained in his mind. 

“Yes?” Geralt asked as he stood beside the door he’d freshly painted, a nice light nearly white. He watched the omega look down at the floor, cheeks turning a cherry color. They had discussed house rules, rules for the complex, rent payments, but not quite the details of the actual. Apart from the contents and size. 

“I'm an omega. I… have quite um veracious heats. Are the walls…?” Jaskier said in a timid way, embarrassment burning inside of him. He’d only told Mister Rivia that he was an omega, he’d felt it was inappropriate to talk about his heats and such over text. He wanted to make a good impression on the alpha, didn’t want him to think he was some floozy puppy looking for a mate and a free bed. He was a grown man, he wanted the alpha to see that. Even if he still had to ask about the ventilation and soundproofing. 

Geralt understood immediately though, having had the room remodeled after Cirilla had presented. He wasn’t shy about omegan issues, he had an omegan daughter, and had dealt with her issues. Not much scared him anymore. Nothing is more exhausting than a thirteen year old omega who wasn’t scared to leave the house in her pajamas, barefoot, to walk two miles to McDonalds if you didn’t wake up fast enough. 

Geralt wasn’t a blushing twenty year old alpha anymore, after all. He could handle having a screaming banshee in the house for a few days a month. 

“Yes, soundproof and insulated. You have your own thermostat, the door has a seal around it, and there are extra ventilation vents that lead out and not to the rest of the apartment or building. I had it specially remodeled to be… as comfortable as possible for an omega.” Geralt explained and pushed the door open, welcoming Jaskier inside. He stood by the door, wanting to keep the separation of Omegan Space and General Space very stark. 

Jaskier walked in, eyes looking at the ten foot ceiling, the calm blue walls, the plush grey carpet, and the still plastic wrapped mattress Mister Rivia said would be provided sitting on a black metal bed frame that had a spiral patterned head and footboard. It was bare but somehow he could already picture where he’d put his things, hang his posters and pictures. 

He looked at the closet with its louvered doors and the big window overlooking the park that was spread out next to the building. He could open it and get good fresh air or the warm sun, and hear the rain at night. 

“Wow… This is amazing, really. So much space and such soft carpeting… so plush. I'm really really happy. Thank you Mr. Rivia! I’ll go get the rest of my stuff, just a couple bags and my instruments and my ikea shelves.” Jaskier thanked graciously, and happily, nearly skipped, to the front door. The alpha was right behind him, grabbing some keys from the rings by the door. 

“I’ll help you. I have your copy of the key in my truck anyway.” Geralt said and couldn’t help the small smile that smirked on his lips at the omega’s genuine response. 

“Oh, thank you, dear.” Jaskier said as he slipped his shoes back on and opened the front door. He couldn’t help but feel giddy. He’d always dreamed of a place like this. So what if he had a smoking hot roommate who smelled so nice, it was only a bonus. He couldn’t wait to get the plastic off that bed and sleep alone for the first time in… since he moved out of his parent’s house. 

It was like heaven already. 

~~~~~

Geralt was surprised about how much he enjoyed another man’s presence in his home. He liked the sound of Jaskier cooking in the kitchen, he liked that the omega would leave his bathroom door open after he got a shower and his scented steam would waft out, all honey sweet and warm, he liked that Jaskier would come quietly sit down and watch TV with him if he heard a show come on. 

He liked when Jaskier sat on the kitchen counters under the bright white lights to tweak and fix his old second hand instruments. He liked that Jaskier would talk and talk, about his job, customers, his music, anything in the world and not get offended when Geralt didn’t answer. The alpha found it soothing to have the chatter while eating dinner or breakfast. He liked that Jaskier hummed as he did laundry or washed dishes or swept, tunes that he’d hear on a guitar or keyboard after a few weeks. Geralt felt less lonely, like the hollow feeling he felt after Cirilla moved out was being filled, not in the same way his daughter’s presence did, no not at all, it was an all new feeling. It was nice.

Jaskier loved living in the apartment. He could open up his window and smoke when he got itchy for a cigarette, he could work late into the night and not worry about making too much noise, he could masturbate and not worry about the smell or his sounds, and Mister Rivia let him watch TV with him. 

He loved that. He loved sitting by the older alpha, eating dinner with him, greeting him in the morning. He loved that Mister Rivia would ask him if he had a good day at work or if he was cold or if he got wet by the rain and then tell him to get a warm shower and put on some dry clothes before dinner. He liked that when he forgot his work apron and his name tag and his jacket, Mister Rivia caught him in the lobby of the building, all three in his hand and a gentle finger wag. 

He loved being looked after. It wasn’t overbearing, it was sweet. 

They were happy together, Geralt made sure Jaskier knew when to be out of the apartment when his daughter or ex-wife was visiting, sending Jaskier off with a few dollars to get coffee or a snack. Jaskier gave Geralt ample warning when he was going into heat, making sure the alpha was okay with him to heat in the apartment before locking himself away in his room for a few days. 

There were a few hiccups. Geralt had a yelling match in his office which made Jaskier cry and hide away at his friend’s house till Geralt called him, and swore it wouldn’t happen again. Jaskier came home drunk, very drunk, and fell asleep half hung over his toilet, naked from the waist up, shoes left in the middle of the floor, front door left unlocked. Geralt had given him a strong talking to. 

‘That is not safe Julian. If you ever get that drunk, where you can’t keep yourself on your own feet, you call me. At least then I can lock our front door.’ Jaskier had sniffled and nodded, making sure he had Geralt on speed dial. 

And the one time they actually argued. Four months in and they had a fight. Jaskier wanted to hang up a new poster, a big framed thing. But he didn’t ask where the step ladder was and thought it was too rude to stand on a dining room chair. So he stood on his computer chair. And left his bedroom door open. 

Geralt had come home from a meeting at the office, tired and uncomfortable in his tailored suit. He’d barely broken the entryway when he heard Jaskier scream out in fear. He found Jaskier crying, hand over his bloody knee. He was first concerned and scared but once he saw it was just carpet burn, and noticed the computer chair was tipped and the half hung poster, he was angry. He barely kept his voice from rising as Jaskier cried, yelling back.

 ‘I’m a grown man, I can do it by myself!’ Jaskier had shouted, shoving away Geralt's concerned hands. 

‘Obviously, if you used the right things. You should never stand on a swivel chair, Julian, You can be as grown as you want as long as you use your head! Don’t be stupid Julian. Think.’ Geralt had reprimanded, leaving a hand to help Jaskier to his feet. Jaskier had pouted and stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door. Geralt had huffed and slammed his own door. 

Jaskier apologized and looked like a dog, tail tucked between his legs. 

‘I’m sorry. Just got scared.’ 

‘I forgive you. You know where the step ladder is, next time, use it. Please’ 

And all was set back to normal. 

Month after month, five had passed, their few disagreements passed easily, and soon Jaskier had been there for Christmas. 

They had exchanged small gifts. Jaskier got Geralt a pair of new blue slippers because ‘Geralt yours are ugly and old, look these have really good insoles!’, and Geralt got Jaskier a nesting bundle of music print blankets and pillows.

 Jaskier had cried and told Geralt that it wasn’t fair and that he shouldn’t have spent so much money, ‘Jaskier would it make you feel better if I said it was on sale?’ 

‘Yeah, it would.’ 

‘It was clearance, cost me barely anything.’ 

‘Okay good, lie to me if it makes me feel better.’ 

‘I will’, Geralt had rubbed the omega’s back until he stopped crying. He’d made a note to himself to always tell Jaskier his gifts were cheap, even if they were $100 nesting bundles. In Geralt’s mind it was worth it, to see Jaskier tie the bundle to feel each piece, cotton, flannel, fuzzy material that Jaskier rubbed against his lips repeatedly until he hauled it all to his room with a big smile. 

And then New Years and Jaskier sent Geralt a selfie, covered in glitter and glow sticks under a blanket of confetti and fireworks, right at 12:01. Geralt had saved the photo, he didn’t know why, but the big smile on the omega’s face and the way his cheeks were crimson red and eyes drunk dilated, it made Geralt’s heart jump. He didn’t mention it to Eskel or Lambert when they asked why he was smiling at his phone during their poker game.  

Then Valentine’s Day which was the worst because Jaskier was supposed to be in heat but he’d just started new hormonal heat aids, which supposedly were supposed to keep his cramps at bay, and they were making him crazy. He sobbed into a gallon of ice cream on the couch, covered in piles of blankets, watching some disgustingly cheesy romance movie with Brad Pitt.

Geralt was trying to finish a spreadsheet but each time he heard the omega sob, it felt like his heart was being ripped out, making him hurt. So he was out on the couch soon enough, rubbing the omega’s back as he cried and babbled about how the medicine wasn’t working and his stomach hurt and his head hurt and he felt starving and he was getting fat and a million other things. Geralt just shushed him and didn’t say anything. Eventually Jaskier calmed down and fell asleep there on the sofa, leaving his empty tub of ice cream and spoon on the side table. Geralt put pillows behind his head, wiped his sticky face and hands with a damp paper towel, and turned the tv and lights off. It made Geralt feel better, even though he kept his door open, headphones half off. Just until Jaskier dragged himself to bed. 

They liked living together, they liked having each other around. Just as roommates, as friends, as… whatever they were. They respected each other, never going into each other's bedrooms, Geralt never going into the omega’s nest and Jaskier never stepping foot in the alpha’s den. They didn’t talk about Yennefer or Jaskier’s heats. 

They pretended to not hear each other’s personal dramatics. Jaskier pretending to never hear Geralt’s phone calls with Yennefer or the late night binges on the candy he had stashed above the fridge. And Geralt never hearing the noises that came from Jaskier’s bathroom at 3am.  

It was easy, it was a silent arrangement that worked. 

Until it changed.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

4, 7, 13, and 19 for the fanfic writing asks

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

Oh man, you're making me CHOOSE??? This is fucked up and evil actually. Okay. Ugh, there are so many I love... buuut I can probably muster up three currently updating fics. If anyone wants my completed fic recommendations then ask away!

First of all, @angeart 's wonderful(ly evil) Help Me To Breathe, which I have been commenting essays on for a while now. I'm biased because we're friends but this fic does so many things right - it is long but for me it's definitely worth it. How she handles mental health struggles is really poetic whilst remaining grounded, which I appreciate a lot. If you're looking for... 242k words (so far) of scarian angst, this is the fic to check out. It's not finished yet but it is worth waiting for.

Next, @definitelynotshouting 's lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) is THE fic that started my obsession with watcher!Grian. It's the fic that inspired my own watcher/listener series (shameless self promo) and it is constantly taking up space in my brain. It is devastatingly sad, but it is about recovery, ultimately, and again I really love how it's being handled so far. Really worth the read.

Finally, @uhohbestie 's There Are Monsters Nearby .... when I say this fic has been living in my head rent free... I mean this fic has been LIVING. THRIVING. in my mind. This is truly classic zombie fiction, where the zombies are kind of second to the relationship drama. I love the explorations of disability in the apocalypse, something I myself have been advocating for in my original writing, and the depictions and emotional beats surrounding cheating, flawed perspectives and jealousy are heartbreaking and so realistic. Wonderful fic. I am in shambles. Please read it.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

My ideal fic seems to be anywhere between 5k and 200k, but then some of my favourites have also been oneshots. I tend to go for any multichapter with more than 1k words per chapter, and any oneshot that takes my interest (though a longer one (5k +) will catch my eye a bit more than a drabble). It's kind of hard for me to tell, because I read a lot of unfinished fics, but I do kind of prefer fics that take months to update but give a 5k + chapter every time... longer *tends* to mean slightly higher quality, but that is not always the case. Agh. I don't know. Every rule can be broken.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes and no. Multichapters tend to get their own little document for organisation with each chapter broken down into scenes. However, for Comms AU, I quite insanely went into it with no plan or outline. Yes, I am just now getting an outline together. Yes, it is a fic with 5 different timelines happening at once. Yes, I am regretting the lack of plan.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I write, then pass at least once (usually twice, sometimes even three times) to edit. My edits usually attempt to flesh out things that feel rushed or don't make sense. My writing is tricky sometimes, I hate writing plainly and that then becomes a weakness when I spend 5 paragraphs describing the texture of the air without actually explaining what's happening. So I try to clean that up. Comms AU gets one edit, usually, because it is just "audio", though with all my fics I sometimes edit as I write - especially if I've taken a break and decide to re-read what I've written.

Thanks for sending these asks! I have discovered that I need to make a longer fic rec post omg...

The ask game!

[hellsingmongrel]

Man, so I'm not normally the biggest fan of Modern AUs, nor am I overly fond of fiction focused on kids, but...last night, my sleeping brain decided to concoct this Trigun (Stampede-flavored) Modern AU that now is living rent free in my damn brain! I want to get it out of my head and into the ether. I don't know if I'm going to do anything long-form with it, and I'm having to translate dream weirdness into more coherent storytelling, but here we go.

So it's modern day Earth, like 2024 or some shit, right? And that's when this version of Earth had just begun fucking around with Plant cloning. It's early enough that the SEEDS project hasn't even left the planet, the scientists haven't yet figured out how to put Plants in bulbs and use them for fuel, none of that! But they've already had Tessla happen, and the boys have already been born. Since they're not in space, even though they had to have found out about their sister, Nai hasn't had a chance to literally nuke humanity from orbit, and I guess Rem has had a chance to try and curtail some of his trauma, so he's...more stable? Ish? Stable enough where he's not actively trying to murder everyone. And the boys are "older," like we see in the flashbacks for the time Vash encountered Nai during the Last Run, so probably around 6 years old but looking 16 or so.

Rem has managed to fudge their paperwork so they've started going to school with human kids, to try and give them a normal childhood. Nai isn't as eager to play ball with the whole "being human" thing as much as Vash is, but Vash has got so many friends, Meryl and Milly and Lina are there and they're like the cutest, most stupidly adorable group of friends, just a bunch of little goofballs, like kids that age are. And the school has a field trip to a theme park (it was Disneyworld in my dream because my school actually did this, but ours was a band trip) and Vash manages to convince Rem to let him go. Vash and Nai and Rem are still paranoid about humans figuring out who they are, so you know, he's told to be extra careful and take care of himself, and Nai gives him one of his blades or something for self defense, just in case something happens. Even though Vash would never, that boy has trauma around knives and trying to defend himself, if you've read Trimax, iykyk. But he takes it anyway, and somehow, he manages to sneak it into the park. Maybe the metal doesn't register on metal detectors or something, who knows.

But he's a kid, and kids are dumb. Especially when they're 16. Especially if those 16 year olds aren't actually 16 and don't have the actual lived experience to know better. So he starts playing with the knife in front of the girls, showing off and just being a silly little guy. And then the knife slips. Bad. We're talking "this is how he probably lost his arm in this AU" bad. Blood everywhere, the girls are panicking and take him to the school chaperones and it's like "HOLY SHIT WTF DUDE, We're taking you to the ER, someone call his mom!"

And he hears that, pictures the doctors finding out he's not human, remembers what happened to Tessla, and panics. Boy does a runner like only Vash can do, and he manages to get away from them, out of the park, and escapes from security. And when parents get involved in trying to find him, the authorities start looking into the incident, and someone in the government overseeing the Plant research is able to recognize the elemental make up of the blade he dropped, and they start having suspicions. So the feds get involved, and it just goes from bad to worse, right?

Meanwhile, loopy from blood loss and panicking and a little sobbing mess because he feels dumb about slipping up and he's afraid he'll never get to go home to his mom and his brother again and is spiraling the way kids do when they panic, he gets lost in the city and ends up stumbling over teenage Wolfwood, who lives on the streets and has a few street kids that he looks after on his own with Livio. They never got to live at the orphanage, but that also means that the Eye (in whatever form it takes in this AU) never got ahold of them, so yeah, shits fucked for them, but it's actually a whole lot better for them than it might have been. And it's Wolfwood without all of the EoM trauma, so you can just imagine what he does when this delirious, bloody, terrified, severely injured kid runs him over in the street, sobbing about being caught by the adults and taken away.

Big Brother Nico do what Big Brother Nico do.

At that point, I ended up waking up, but damn if my brain didn't give me enough details to come up with a dumb AU idea that I kind of love and want to do something with, but I don't know if I have the time or spoons to do so.

Ideas I'd had following this beginning to flesh itself out in my head; Luida and Brad are Plant researchers brought onto the project to help the feds figure out wtf is going on with this whole situation, and when Luida is told to talk to Rem, because she's not giving them anything they can use, the two of them reach a secret accord to bring Vash home safe and sound and cover everything back up nice and squeaky clean the way it should have stayed.

Vash's arm is bad enough that he can't really heal it very well on his own without medical care, Plant healing or no. He's doing better than most kids would, but it still begins to go septic, and it forces Nico and Livio to make the really hard decision to find adults they can trust to bring him to so he can get the care he needs. He still ends up losing his arm, though.

At the end of everything, Melanie ends up taking Nico and Livio and the other kids in, so they still get to have their momma figure, even if she comes in later. Maybe she's the one that they find to help them. Is she maybe someone they've known was mostly safe but was never able to get them to stick around long enough to take care of them? Either way, the boys get Vash to her, and it starts the process of getting him home and the kids finally staying at the orphanage.

Meryl, Milly, and Lina all end up sneaking away when they realize that Vash is in more trouble than the adults are letting on, trying to go find him, since they know him better than anyone other than Rem and Nai. Eventually, they meet up with Nico and Livio while everyone is trying to avoid federal agents.

Obviously it's lovey-dovey Vashwood and Insurance Girlfriends and Polygun-flavored, but in the "these kids are too oblivious to think about sexy things, yet" sort of way, because I really do headcanon that at least Vash is ace, Wolfwood is probably demi, and also I am not writing children getting intimate like that. >8/ But kids having little crushes on each other is adorable and I can't not have Vashwood and Insurance Girlfriends be the eventual outcome, once those idiots all grow up and get their heads screwed on straight.

Also, because Nai hasn't had a chance to murder everyone, Rem's managed to work with him enough that he's very slowly overcoming his trauma and regaining his ability to trust that he's not in permanent danger. He'll probably grow up to be a Plants Rights activist or something, lbh. Or a politician. But he's not going to murder people, so either way, it's a win/win!

Because Nico's been living on the streets with him, Razlo either hasn't had to manifest as strongly for Livio, or hasn't manifested at all. Livio is still the sweet, shy, crybaby teddy bear we see, and maybe Razlo only comes out when the feds start getting closer and almost managing to grab the kids, and because he's been able to bond with Nico and the other kids so well this time, Livio is close enough to them that the thought of them getting hurt or taken away is enough to make him want to protect their little group instead of just Livio.

Wolfwood absolutely grumbles about how alike Vash and Livio are. Both a couple'a crybabies, geez, what the Hell you two??? But he also is very much a teddy bear who gives the best hugs when one of his little band of gremlins is upset, so he probably spends more time in a cuddle pile than anything else, now that there's two of them to lose their shit at the drop of a hat.

Vash was totally the one very sweet boy in a clique of girls that everyone who'd known him realized, when they were adults looking back, that he was very much the sweet gay kid hanging out with the girls because it was safer to be himself around them than it was to be around the other boys. (This isn't meant as a stereotype of gay kids, this is based on actual kids I grew up with. My friend group honest to God adopted them because we were all a bunch of momma bears.)

Vash is also...not trans? Because he's a Plant and Plants don't work the same way humans do, but he's also not what humans would think of as a cis boy. He expresses a masc presentation, but probably the closest equivalent would be an intersexed kid. Nai, too, tbh, though he's probably more of the "I don't give a fuck" opinion when it comes to his own gender identity. He uses he/him because that's what humans think when they see him, but he doesn't care any deeper than that.

[tippenfunkaport]

Introducing MAYbe I’ll Make This, the easiest month of prompts you’ve ever participated in happening this May 2023.

It’s a chance to share all those ideas you’ve been toying with that you might draw or write someday with no pressure to actually commit to finishing anything!

Participation can be as little as sharing a few words or a single sentence or as involved as a sketch or plot summary, it’s up to you! 

What’s the point?

To fill our fandom tags with fun new ideas and stimuli to get everyone’s creative juices flowing. For fan creators ourselves, it gives us a chance to talk about our ideas with no pressure to deliver. And who knows, hopefully seeing people excited about our ideas might give us extra inspiration and motivation to maybe even work on them someday!

Here’s how it works:

Throughout May, post anything from a few words to a snippet from an idea you’ve been kicking around that you MAY draw or write someday and tag the related fandoms, if any. (Ideas that you've started, have actively in progress or have even started but abandoned are also welcome!) A few sentences about a fic you might write, a sketch you’re still figuring out, or even a long infodump about the AU of your heart, share as much or as little as you want!. It’s not a commitment to make anything, just a fun excuse to talk about your ideas. 

Don’t have any ideas of your own? No problem! You can still participate by boosting the ideas that others post, asking questions and expressing your excitement about the ideas that appeal to you. 

Anyone from any fandom is welcome to participate as well as original writers so please spread the word!

We’ve got 30 days worth of prompts to get you started that you can interpret anyway you like… or ignore entirely and do your own thing. Do all 30, pick and choose, do them out of order, whatever you want! The point is just to have fun and share your ideas! 

That’s it! Just a super chill, low effort way for us all to celebrate those ideas taking up space in our brains that we aren’t quite ready to commit to making yet (or maybe ever). 

Notes

Participants retain all rights to their ideas and first dibs on the writing / drawing of them.

Want feedback on your ideas? Encourage brainstorming? Happy to let someone else take your idea and write it themselves? Add a note to that effect to your post so people know what kind of interactions are welcome. 

Please be supportive of others' ideas and keep overly negative opinions to yourself (especially if they did not ask for feedback). If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all!

You’re welcome to tag your posts with “MAYbe I’ll Make This” or link back to this post to explain the challenge but your host (me) won’t be sharing every post related to this challenge. This is just something I wanted to do for my own purposes to share all the ideas I may never get a chance to write but I’m opening the prompts list to anyone who might like to do the same. 

Questions? Drop me an ask! 

May 2023 Prompts

No Plot Just Vibes

Lives In My Head Rent Free

Sometimes One Must Torture The Blorbos For Enrichment

Completely Self Indulgent

I Just Want Them To Be Happy 😭

Canon Divergent

Inspired By A Movie

Galaxy Brain Of Me, Honestly

No One Wants This But Me

All The Tropes!

Where We’re Going, We Don’t Need Canon

Idea Fueled By Spite

Shameless Excuse For Hurt / Comfort

Inspired By A TV Show

Slaps Idea: This Baby Can Fit So Much Projection!

Yes, I’m Cringe But I’m Free

One! More! Time! 

Totally OOC But Hear Me Out… 

Role Swap

Inspired By Someone Else’s Au

I Hurt Myself With This Idea

Old Tropes, New Tricks

Pretend I’m Good Enough To Pull This Off

It’s Really Just All About This One Scene… 

Crack Treated Seriously 

Seriousness Treated Like Crack 

I’ve Actually Started Working On This

Yes It’s Been Done But Not By Me So

More Of What You’d Call A Character Study

Casually Slides in My OC

Inspired By A Book

[okayto]

Mini-Review: Bee and PuppyCat: Lazy in Space

Bee, an unemployed woman in her early twenties, encounters a mysterious creature she terms PuppyCat. She adopts this apparent cat-dog hybrid, and together they go on a series of temporary jobs to pay off her monthly rent. These bizarre jobs take the duo across strange worlds out in space.

This is the kind of show I often enjoy, episodic while expanding the world and our view as the stories pass; humorous without making me cringe.

It's a very fun show that looks like its aimed at kids, and would probably be fine for that audience--it's not adult humor in the vein of things like The Simpsons or Rick and Morty, but it feels like adults are the audience because of the atmosphere.

Bee is a mess, in a recognizable way: she's been fired from her job for possibly valid reasons but also partially for taking the blame for someone else. She's aimless: if it wasn't for the rent being due, she wouldn't really be looking for another job.

The aimlessness of being an adult, yet not automatically having things all together, is a running theme. Bee definitely doesn't. Her best friend and neighbor, Deckard, is struggling to decide between following his passion, and staying where he is in a predictable environment with friends and family.

His sister Cas gave up a passion project in favor of the predictable work and stability of software engineering, something she has complicated feelings about. Their landlord, Cardamom, seems to have everything all together, except he's a 7-year-old with no adult supervision, and as the episodes go on you realize that his straightforward approach to life is actually a child being forced to handle things that are an adult's domain.

The setting is also fun: it's hard to tell whether things like toilets be a place to store food instead of, well, bodily functions are normal, or why a 7-year-old seriously acting as a landlord doesn't seem to raise many comments. Is this a fantasy land where things are just kind skewed anyway? Or are Bee and her neighbors extra-odd? In that way, it reminds me a bit of Steven Universe, with its mix of cartoon reality and non-main characters eventually making clear that they think this is weird, too.

The actual fantastical bits are interesting, too. We get information about Puppycat towards the end, but he definitely has secrets, and Bee isn't as straightforward as she appears at the beginning, either. Their visits to other planets/dimensions (?) to earn money would be an interesting show even without showing any of their home lives.

You can definitely see the influences of classic magical girl anime, but this show is also the answer to the premise: what if magical girl, but tired adult? What if magical girl, but it's just kinda a job?

Verdict

Voices: Very good! They sound very...realistic, not super polished. I don't mean that they sound like inexperienced voice actors, I mean that they sound real and variable, which isn't common in voice acting. I really enjoyed them.

Also, special shoutout to my favorite character, Toast, whose first line had me wracking my brain to figure out why did her voice sound SO familiar and why was her voice affecting something in my emotions until I looked it up, and her voice actress is the English voice of Sailor Moon/Serena that I grew up with!

Visuals: Vibrant and pastel colors, a very round cartoon style, it feels modern and cozy.

Worth watching? Yes! On one hand, it's just a fun series, the balance between "just living life as an aimless young adult" and "brightly-colored fantastical adventures" is done well. The supporting cast of characters is great and entertaining. And on the other hand, it's also nice to watch a cartoon that feels very much like the target audience are adults, but not because the show is raunchy. I really hope we get another season someday.

Where to watch (USA, as of September 2023): Netflix. Note that a 10-episode original web animation (titled Bee and Puppycat without any subtitle) can be found on Youtube; the Netflix series I watched is both a reboot (covers the original series' material in a few episodes) and then continuation. After asking advice on here, general consensus was that newbies starting with the Netflix series is a good idea, but there's nothing wrong with the older, original web animation.

Click my “reviews” tag below or search “mini review” on my blog to find more!

[pixeldistractions]

Gameplay notes on a broken, stinky camper:

They haven’t set off on their adventure quite yet, by the way. There’s a bit more story to go still. But this is a glimpse into their future to show off the camper, since I need an entire empty lot to park this thing on, and the camper shown in the previous story scenes is just deco.

Here is the camper build that they’ll actually live in. It’s a decent sized class-C motorhome. As Jordan said, it’s not really one of those cute little renovated #vanlife campers that Ingrid has her heart set on. (Like this one <- I am a total geek over this woman’s van life channel, lol!)

But maybe Ingrid will get hers someday.

This camper is old and run down, definitely in need of some renovation. Jordan is a handy guy, so I have no doubt he’ll keep it running. But creative or stylish, he is not. So he’s probably quite happy to make it smell better and just leave it be.

It’s off-grid, and doesn’t currently have any power or water capabilities, but he is welcome to upgrade those systems when he’s ready.

It’s off-grid, and a micro home on 32 squares. (33, actually, being 3x11, and I cheated out a block from the bathroom so it could remain in the smallest tier. 😉 )

I haven’t played with either of these lot types in gameplay before, and I’m super excited to try them! I’m also looking forward to the gameplay of bringing this camper to different locations and playing in some towns that I don’t normally play. But it’s a bummer that, more often than not, I’ll have to bulldoze an entire building to place it somewhere.

(OMG give us world editing tools!!!)

The lot challenges are filthy, gremlins, and creepy-crawlies. And because it was said to be very stinky in the story, I placed a few of these apartment problem stink clouds around to pop up and give them a bad surprise from time to time.

The whole camper, not counting the lot value of wherever it’s placed, is around $7000. Neither of them paid that much for it, or even have that much money to their names. I keep my sims broke, lol! But I do have a kind of personal gameplay rule that my sims can get a bonus “kaching” for each apartment problem or lot challenge they add, to help out with the purchase price. Because in game, lot challenges don’t make the lot any cheaper, even though they kind of should, in my opinion.

Then they would have to pay $1000 in “repairs” to get rid of the lot challenge or apartment problem, if they ever decide to.

(Sadly, I suspect my apartment problems are about to totally break with the new For Rent pack we’re getting, and I’m not sure I have the brain space or ability to fix them this time. Oh well, we had a good run with them, didn’t we? Hopefully someone with more skills and time can pick up the torch.)

Jordan imagines renovating this back room with a couple of bunk beds for his boys, for the hopeful occasion that Colette lets them come out to visit.

So, they’ll take this thing to a few locations on their way out to California, and then in a couple weeks, Jordan will end up in Sierra Nova to meet up with Maya for the climbing club she hosts through Tyler’s adventure park. The plan is that they’ll train for a season in Sierra Nova, then travel to Komorebi to train further and then attempt to summit, which is another bit of gameplay I haven’t tried before.

I am not going to attempt to wrangle any sort of road trip driving shots with this thing, or the deco object, either. We will use our imaginations!

(Oh, but how cool would a cars/road trip pack be, where we could own a camper and drive it from place to place? But I bet even if they made a pack like that, the campers would be rabbit holes like the tents are.)

[silv3reyedstranger]

20 Questions

thank you @appropriatelystupid for tagging me! i just finished my french exam this morning so doing this is an awesome way to spend my afternoon🥳

How many works do you have on AO3?

i was not aware that i had seven written and posted?? that's wild :0

2. What's you total AO3 count?

31,822 words?? also a massive surprise since i don't write or post nearly as often as i'd like...but hey, i'll take the win!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

okay, so obviously supercorp lives rent free in my head, but i'm also deeply entrenched in the cissamione and bellamione fandoms. i've got a fuck ton of wips for them, but i haven't put much out yet. however, recently, rojarias (reignjas) has been taking up ALL my brain space—i'm dying to write a lawyer au.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

erm. well, since i only have seven, i'll give you the top two? 1st: i'm home when i'm with you...2nd: this color looks better on you than me

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i used to be really into and really good about responding to comments because i really appreciate every single one (and i still do) but it took a lot out of me and made me a little anxious, so i don't do it anymore. that being said, i still love and cherish every single comment that's ever been left!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm really not the biggest fan of angsty endings, so i don't write them very much. i'd much prefer piling on the angst throughout and giving them a happy ending. there's too much sadness and grief in the world already, i feel like everyone should get a happy ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oo, okay, i'm not sure about happiest since they feel pretty even, but if i really had to pick maybe oh how love stings?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i don't currently, which i think is in part because of how lovely most people in the fandoms i'm in now are, but years ago i wrote a dramione fic and people had a lot (which wasn't necessarily hate, but it was still unnecessary) to say about that.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

i've tried on occasion, but let's just say i'm still working out the kinks (pun intended)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i don't and i don't think i will anytime in the near future because i feel like a lot of planning will have to go into that and i don't have the brain space right now. but secondly, i don't feel an immediate urge to merge any two worlds currently.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

luckily, no, not that i'm aware of—hopefully it stays that way!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

i've had someone ask in my comments before, but as mentioned above i don't really answer comments and i'm still not sure if i'm entirely comfortable with translations even if it allows a larger audience access to the fic.

13. have you ever cowritten a fic before?

i was working on one with @glitterslytherin a few years back, but we never quite got much of it finished haha

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

it's gotta be supercorp, but currently, rojarias and cissamione have me in a chokehold (i suppose i'm on my supercorp detox atm? maybe i'll be able to churn out fics after this little break)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i think this applies to all my WIPs to be honest. obviously i want to finish them all, but motivation is a bitch and she tends to come and go as she pleases XD

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'd like to think i do a pretty good job with dialogue. i used to be better at descriptions, but i think the balance has tilted the last couple of years.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

being able to just write and not edit on the way (another reason i rarely finish things) also planning is very much not my forte💀

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

while i am bilingual and almost trilingual, i do tend to stick with english since i feel like it's jarring to have a bit of a different language suddenly pop up and then the reader has to read the translation. and two, i'm not even grammatically accurate in english all the time, so forget about another language!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh, this is so mortifying...i believe it was percy jackson, but following closely behind was harry potter.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

i don't think i love any of the fics i have out at the moment—like, don't get me wrong, i'm super proud of them—but there's not one finished one that parades in my head all the time. the rojarias lawyer au and a supercorp orchestra au are constantly being thought about though?

tagging a couple of mutuals if ya'll wanna take part!

@theredcapeofk @yanana94 @belladonnainbloom @coffeeshib @naralanis @an-organism

[commanderdazzle]

Unordinary Type (Ch06)

Sometimes a life change comes about not as a sweeping whirlwind, but as a slow wave on the beach.

When you first meet Cee and Ezra, they look like they've just passed through a whirlwind themselves, but what will that end up meaning to you?

Post Movie Ezra x Fem!Reader.

(A/N; This chapter contains the idea that sparked this story in the first place, feeding Cee and Ezra a thick and chunky stew.

But one of my possibly controversial opinions is that I can't read x reader fics without a long as hell Meet-Cute. My brain literally cannot engage with established relationships, and I don't know why.

As usual, some sentences are wacky because Tumblr hates my paragraphs.)

Nearly two hours later, you were at Cee and Ezra's door, awkwardly kicking with your knee while you held a stew pot by both handles, a bag of bowls and utensils hanging from your wrist. You heard the chattering inside cease as someone walks to the door, then the beep of a key card unlocking before the door slid open to reveal Cee standing there. "Sorry if I'm intruding, but I couldn't help it, I had to bring something!" Cee smiles, probably the biggest one you've seen so far, and waves you in, saying, "we were just talking about how to get food that wasn't the slop at the public cafeterias." "Lucky me, huh?" You laughed, inwardly cringing at the idea that they haven't had a home-cooked meal in however long they were off-planet. "Lucky us, I'd say," Ezra added from his spot on the floor, jacket off and pack open. The appartment was exactly the same as yours, but entirely unfurnished.

The front door opened into a wide sitting area, with a kitchen along the back wall, an island dividing the two. Two doors on either side went into two equal sized rooms, and one of those rooms had a private bath, the apartments other bath being a door to the left of the kitchen area. It was a nice place, all things considered, and you could afford the rent, since being a nurse on a space station paid just enough for the landlord.

With that out of the way, your other essentials were covered by the teaching job. But what are they were doing to afford the same place? You think to yourself. Returning your attention to Ezra, you noticed him slipping something back into his pack, the contents of which were strewn across the floor. A few feet away, Cee had been doing the same to her pack, but she wasn't at all bothered by you seeing the things she had out. The two of them cleared a space for you to put the pot down on the floor, and as you removed the utensils from the bag, Ezra clears his throat. "You didn't have to go through the trouble," this time, when he says your name, something about his tone makes you feel warm. "Eh, I haven't eaten dinner yet anyway, it's no problem at all to cook for three," you assured him, them offered the first bowl you scooped to Cee. She took it gratefully, asking "what's in this?" as you handed the next to Ezra. You were glad you picked the deep bowls; it probably helped Ezra settle the bowl in the middle of his crossed legs, so he could hold the spoon with his free hand. Scooping a bowl for yourself, you answered, "carrots, celery, corn, peas, potatoes, and beef, in a beef broth, all allegedly the real thing, according to the market folks," you grinned. "Incredible," Ezra murmured, "far better than hospital or cafeteria fare." The both of them were clearly enjoying it, so much that they both asked if there was enough for more. "Can't let these precious ingredients go to waste," Ezra said, and you felt he meant it genuinely. "It's no problem, anything left over can be put in the chiller at my place," you try to assure him.

But he takes you by surprise when he fixes you with a stern expression. "You sure say that pretty often," he says quietly, and you don't move, even when Cee flicks her eyes between the two of you. He goes on, "do you have a 'problem' with anythin', or is it in your nature to be so compassionate you let yourself get walked over?" You flinch, even though you know he has a point. It's something you've struggled with all your life, the anxiety and social pressure, the need to be helpful and well-liked. Well, I guess there's one thing I really don't like... You're not sure if this really counts, but after a seconds hesitation, you answer, "I really hate that space station." Ezra's eyes widen, but he doesn't interrupt, "I hate the feeling being so far from solid ground gives me, it's only six months out of the year, but I feel like I'm suffocating the entire time." You aren't ready yet to share anything deeper than that, and you look Ezra right in the eyes, wildly hoping that he'll understand. In the overly bright light of the apartments default fixtures, his brown eyes take on a different tone, no longer dead and in pain like they seemed under the hospital lights. They're now filled with warmth, sparkling and alive, and you swallow a lump in your throat. He's looking into your eyes just as intently, and whatever he sees in them, he's smiling now, and you feel your cheeks warm again as he speaks up. "That's entirely fair," he finishes his second bowl before passing it back to you, "not everyone has to be space-worthy; after all, that's what us prospectors are for." The warmth you were feeling drains from you, the idea that he would go back out there fills you with dread instead, but you don't argue. He isn't mine to argue with about this, you think suddenly, but it still hurts, bringing back the same fear you felt whenever your father left on his excursions. One of which he never came back from. But still, would Ezra do that to Cee, if she decided she wasn't going back out there? If she wanted to settle, live in an actual home, would he stay? You remembered the day they arrived at the station, when Ezra was being carted off to surgery, and he had desperately asked you not to leave Cee alone in that stagnant white room. Was that enough to trust him?

You remember asking yourself the same thing, after he woke up from his surgery and your fears that they had been prospecting were confirmed. It feels terrible to judge him on just one thing, but I've known men like him. The clinking of a spoon in a bowl brought you out of your reverie as Cee handed hers to you, and you realized you had been thinking for far too long. Ezra apparently thought he knew what you were thinking, because his posture softened.

"Hey, don't turn your mind towards the station a moment more. You're down here now, this'll be good for ya," he said gently. You nodded, grateful for an excuse to shove your thoughts away. When Cee asked if you needed help carrying your things home, you let her hold the stew pot so you could carry the bag of utensils and unlock your front door. "Mighty grateful for the meal, aren't we?" Ezra prompted Cee, who nodded and said, "yeah, thank you!" "You're welcome, I'm glad you both enjoyed it," you replied, then you turned to wave at Ezra, "goodnight!" He returned your wave with a soft smile, and you wondered why that made you feel like cheering. Once safely in your appartment, Cee helped do the dishes while you stored what stew was left in your chiller. When the dishes were done, you noticed Cee looking around at your furniture.

Her eyes went from the couch that faced right when you entered from the front door, the glass coffee table in front of it, to the thickly carpeted floor. "Gathering ideas for your own place?" You asked her quietly. "Oh yeah," she grinned, then looked back at you, "if you're cool with it, would you come with us tomorrow, show us the best places to shop?" "Absolutely! I have to buy supplies for my students anyway, since I just finally received the list of what I need from the school," you groaned, lamenting the administration's lack of haste. "Okay, cool," she reached out a hand, and you shook on it, "uh, just as a reminder, don't ask Ezra about the money." Wondering briefly why she felt the need to tell you again, you nod your head and say, "understood." Smiling before saying goodnight, Cee heads down the hall to their door, and you watch her until she's inside safely before locking your own door. Sighing wistfully, you shut off the lights in the main room and pass through your bedroom, gathering your usual sleep clothes. Leaving them on the dresser beside the door to your private bath, you grab a towel from the top drawer. When the hot water of the shower hits you, you allow your mind to wander, tracing the path of the day through your memories. You weren't expecting the strangest of your patients to show up at your door, wearing matching clothes and smiling like nothing was wrong. You were already so fond of them, you could tell, but you just weren't sure whether getting attached was advisable. Just two nomads, a pair of vagabonds, you thought, not people to stay in one place, and even if Cee chooses to, what will Ezra do? You couldn't bear to think of it a moment more, so you forced your mind into silence. Finishing your wash, you shut off the water and dried with your towel until you felt clean enough to dress. Then you grabbed your current journal from the table next to your reading chair, and sat down heavily.

Sagging into the cushion, you began to record the events of the day, as usual when you relax before bed. You didn't note your true feelings on the matter, only the facts, but inside, you knew something was happening. What that something was, you had no clue, but you did know one thing.

This had everything to do with the strange realm of prospecting, and the people who went in and out of it at will. But can I will someone to stay who doesn't want to? You startled yourself with the thought and quickly finished writing your entry, so you could sleep the idea away.

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

What lyrics are my characters belting off their chest? Full force, no holds back, screaming and throwing up. A question in my brain because I have character brainrot but no motivation yet to write.

Space Don't Dictate Fate

Cosma: "I know the pieces fit- I know the pieces fit- I know the pieces fit- I know the pieces fit- I know the pieces fit..." Schism by Tool

Greeter: "Fuck me like you hate me- Dig it up and tear it down- Dig it up and whore me out- Fuck me like you hate me- Dig it up and tear it down- I love the sound when you come undone." FMLYHM by Seether

Tharion: "I'm calm, now absent- I'm date rape yellow black to the liver, come on- Take my lung, take my loose tongue- Take my sum, take my memory..." Suffragette Suffragette by Everything Everything.

Arc: "I put a blanket over my face- Shoot the sun down- I put a blanket over my face. Six dollars and cheap vodka- Is that all it took to unlock? Ten years of secrets- Ten years of secrets..." Shoot the Sun Down by The Drums (Honestly this whole song)

Robots & Gardens

Green: "Ah fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh!" Session by The Offspring

Peace: "You make me want to start smoking- Cigarettes, so I die slowly-, Anything that's bad for me, Yer killing me, yer killing me..." Yer Killin' Me by Remo Drive

Digits: "Have you ever loved someone- So much you thought you'd die? Giving so much of yourself- It seems the only way- Tell me what you want and I- And I will give it to you- 'Cause you are my love..." Candy Rain by Soul for Real.

Hollis: "Just dance, just dance take off all your clothes- We gon' step into the fire- Just move, just move come on and get close- We gon' push it even further (x2)..." Expectations by Grouplove

Donnie: "My love, do you ever dream of- Do you ever dream?- Candy-coated raindrops?- Ooh whoa darling- You're the same my candy rain..." Candy Rain by Soul for Real

Fucked at Five

Saz: "Can't live with'm- Can't live without'm- New kid on the block with a rip- Dad got a sag in the back with a drip- Come and get a sip- LA-DI-DA..." Dad Vibes by Limp Bizkit.

Elliot: "...I hate myself, I wanna party- And pretend that I'm a star again..." I Hate Myself, I Want to Party by King Princess

Julie: "I don't linger for fun- Oh, you wish you could come- Wanna be my plus one- Give a fuck 'bout your style- Or the latest of trends- If you knew what it took- Just to get out the ends- Wanna know where I stay- Know you owe me some rent..." Speed by Little Simz

Ian: "Show me a word that rhymes with pavement- And I won't kill your parents- And roast them on a spit." Harness Your Hopes (B-side) by Pavement

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: The Best is Yet to Come

Here, this might help explain something.

Takes place a year and a half before Seeker and Seer.

Song: Bad Moon Rising-CCR

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

Detective was glancing at the doorway again.

The entire group had gathered to discuss a few things, not the least of which was the addition of the youngest of their number, dubbed 'Nash', for simplicity's sake. They'd decided that they couldn't justifiably turn the boy away, or make him wait; this was supposed to be a family, not a club, one didn't have to be 'this tall' to be a Riddler. Besides, someone so young needed guidance, support, companionship. He wouldn't be safe on his own.

They hadn't managed to convince him to leave home. It wasn't good for him there, and Detective had offered, Narci had offered, but Nash refused. Now Narci hovered close by and the two spoke animatedly with each other, while Detective stared at an empty door.

By Puzzles' thinking, it was good that they were getting along. Narci and Nash were closer to each other in age than they were any of the rest of them, and having a younger brother figure might help Narci not be be such an annoying brat.

It would also help to keep him from bothering Puzzles all the time, since, while he wasn't an old man like the others, was still solidly an adult. Twenty-three might not be anything venerable, but it was not a child, so when he asked the Detective “Are you seeing things again?” it wasn't meant to be rude, so much as a reminder that he should be kept in the loop.

Detective sighed.

“Do not worry about it.”

“No, no. Tell me about it.”

It was as much a challenge as an invitation to explain. One of the greater troubles Puzzles had with understanding the Detective was that they claimed to have visions, minor prophetic powers. Ludicrous obviously, complete, crunchy hippie, new age nonsense. Yet, the Detective also didn't lie. It was a quirk a few of them shared. So when Detective said they saw the future, they were telling the truth, even though that was impossible. Something else had to be going on.

Detective sighed again, this time in light frustration.

“Someone comes through that doorway.”

“What, now?”

“Obviously not.”

“So, sometime then. In the future. Is that all?”

“Yes. I just...don't get much of anything more than that. No details. It's like when your brain recognizes movement before it recognizes anything else. I see the movement, but nothing else.”

“You sure it's not just one of Swags...'employees'?”

“Watch your mouth.” Swag said, having slipped up to refill Detective's wine. He had a glass of his own in the other hand. “They ain't mine, I just rent out the spaces so they can have a safe place to work.”

“Work.” Puzzles scoffed.

“I will throw you out on your green ass, don't think I won't.”

“Peace.” Detective pleaded.

“From your mouth, to his ears.” Swag said, moving on to check on the others.

“You do not need to be rude about those women, you know.” Detective scolded. “They provide a service that is clearly in high demand. In any case, no. Whoever this is, is not inside the party room. They aren't in the club at all. But they come through that doorway, and it is important.”

“What good is this so-called ability if you can't get any actual information from it?”

“Well, it led me down every street necessary to meet all of you~” Detective pointed out.

“But never told you when you might be in danger? Like I said, not very useful.”

“Such a stubborn thing you are. Why do you ask me these things if you've already made up your mind about it?”

“I guess...” Puzzles thought about it. “I wonder if there aren't...health issues, perhaps?”

“Puzzles, I am only in my forties. I know that seems positively ancient to you youngsters-”

“I am not a child.” Puzzles reminded.

“And I didn't say that, now did I? But I'm not falling into dementia just yet. In fact, these visions only came about after I was cured of all my ills.”

“What do you mean?”

Detective sipped their wine, staring into the mirrored wall behind the bar.

“Before I met you, any of you, I was...ill. A tumor in my brain. Inoperable, they said.”

Puzzles winced. A nightmare. The silent, secret fear they all shared.

“I didn't accept it. I searched everywhere for a doctor who could help me, but got the same answer every time. So I turned to less...legitimate avenues. Doctor Fries is not a doctor of medicine, but he does have some experience with it. Also, he was at least willing to try, as long as he could use whatever he learned from the experience to help his wife. Unfortunately, he failed, and I died.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“The tumor truly was inoperable, it turns out, even with the doctors cryogenic prowess. He was, however, able to keep me 'fresh' long enough to get me to a special place. Do you know of the secret of the Demon's Head?”

“The Lazarus Pit. Yes, I know of it. I hear it can cure anything, including death. It sounds like nonsense, but you're about to tell me otherwise, aren't you?”

“Do not use it unless your need is at least that dire.” Detective warned. “There are side effects.”

It could cost one their mind, Puzzles had heard. That was the last thing he wanted to lose. He would much rather simply die than allow anything to happen to his precious brain. It was the only thing he actually had going for him.

“When I came out, I was alive, yes.” Detective continued. “But I was incoherent. Nothing made any sense. I saw everything, and it was too much to handle. Worlds upon worlds, upon worlds, billions of faces, billions of voices, all at once. It was incapacitating. Honestly, I'm glad it has subsided into this weakened form. But ever since then, I knew. I knew there were other worlds, other versions of me. And I knew I had to find you, because something is coming.”

Puzzles' heart chilled.

“Do you know anything else about that? Or is it just another impression?”

Detective frowned.

“It's frustrating, but no. I know there is danger. To all of us. But I don't know what, or how to avoid it, or if it can even be avoided. I keep trying to look for more information, but those visions are very fickle. So you see, I can only use them to supplement the here and now, because they aren't solid enough to plan around. Sometimes, they only happen a few moments before an event comes to pass.”

“Like with Nash?” Puzzles asked.

“Like with Nash, yes. Like with all of you. I only knew which streets to walk down a short time before meeting you, but I knew I needed to be looking. It was like that with each one of you. Except...”

“Mhm?” Puzzles was interested now, despite himself.

“From the first time I opened my eyes after coming out of the pit, all the way up until now, at the edge of every vision, there has been...someone. Something? I do not know who or what they are, or what they want, or if they are even aware that I can see them. Always out on the horizon, very far away, just barely visible. I can't make out any details, just that something is out there, and it is important. For years it's been this way. It's almost comforting to know that I'm not alone, but recently I realized...It's been coming closer.”

Puzzles shivered.

“Okay, I think that's enough of that.” he said. Detective shrugged, shaking their head.

“Death changes a person.” they said. “Please try harder to avoid it, if you can.”

“I...really hate that you said that.”

Detective shrugged again, then took their wine and found a seat with the others, leaving Puzzles to stare into the mirror, struggling between logic and superstition.