#as like time set aside to learn & experiment & write as my priorities

[inniave]

trying to start getting ready for 50/90 now so i can hit the ground running in july (since ik i'll likely be dealing with intermittent flares, etc i want to save as much time & effort up front).

so today i worked on cleaning out & reworking some parts of my little studio area. including adding an actual mic stand!!! yay!! no more trying to keep it from falling off my doohickey and shattering into pieces lmao. also did some cord management (not enough lmao, it's never enough)

behind on lessons for the week thanks to migraine & flare up :( but i've been trying to practice what i've already learned. trying to get back to voice workouts consistently but oh boy am i feeling the break.

over the weekend i wanna get the new strings on the jackson & next week work on default file configs in ableton for my main couple set ups (and also check mic levels now it's in a different spot). also need to get back in contact with the lovely person im planning on collaborating some with over 50/90!

still haven't decided if i'm going to try to work toward certain projects (outside of collabs). definitely going to try for the full 50 songs (which i think shouldn't be too bad considering i wrote like over 30 for fawm 😭). but i haven't decided if i'm going to try to write to collections or whatever. i have a few albums & eps planned out and mostly filled as far as demos go butttttt i don't think those will ever get released :p anyway long way to say i'm still thinking about what i want my goals to be beyond writing 50 songs :p

okay helen music status update complete here have a cookie 🍪

[physalian]

First Time Author Mistakes You Don’t Have To Make

This is for self-published authors, somewhat, I didn’t go through the agent/publishing house process, but I did give it a try.

1. Thinking everyone you work with will like your book

I wasn’t under this illusion, but I did assume that every beta I worked with would be able to stay objective, i.e. saying while they don’t like an element they think it still works instead of “I don’t like this” with no explanation. Which was not the case. If this happens, best thing to do is to cut your losses. They’re not your target audience.

2. Underestimating how long it takes

Your book baby is your top priority and yours alone. Everyone else that you could work with does so at their pace on their schedules. I wrote ENNS in one month. It took almost six months of beta readers and a professional edit for a lot of reasons, but largely in part due to betas just not being very speedy. In other areas, too. I didn’t query ENNS because my first experience trying to work with publishing houses was a lot of “hurry up and wait” and I did not have time to wait 6+ months, with exclusive submissions, just to be told no.

3. Underestimating how much it costs

I had funds prepared and set aside in a savings account to pay the editor that I knew would be the steepest cost of the whole writing process. I’d saved up over a couple months and was virtually unaffected by the exorbitant fee when the bill came due because I had prepared. Betas and editors cost money, and you can’t skimp on those otherwise you’re just burning money. If you hire illustrators or promoters, they eat up cash. Formatting, too, costs money. If I wanted to break even with ENNS, I would have to sell over a thousand copies. Just to break even. Even if you do it all yourself, of which I did my own illustrations and formatting, the programs I used cost money, and time.

4. Vetting book promoters

Anyone following this blog might know of my recent escapades in dealing with scammers. It’s my personal opinion that anyone who will promote any book for money does not have an opinion worth trusting. Do I think my book is good? Absolutely. Do I think every book they promote is good? No. Nor do these people seem to care about anything more than profit. I wouldn’t buy a product based on a review without integrity, and have learned a hard lesson in trying to undo that mistake. If you just want word out, then you can act without discretion and just pick the cheapest influencers. But their word means nothing if they’ll sell it to the lowest bidder.

—

These are just four things I didn’t quite think about going in. I’ve been a writer for almost 10 years now but this is my first time all the way through the publication process and it was a wake up call in many areas, especially with the bad actors on social media.

But the bottom line is this: Don’t underestimate the cost of the process, whether that cost be money or time or simply stress. Writing is easy. Publishing is work.

—

My LGBTQ+ vampire fantasy novel Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is out for preorder now! Paperback debut on 8/25/24.

[hanzajesthanza]

So I watch videos about games to vet them before buying them cause I don't want to spend time and money on something I dislike or disagree with and came to the conclusion that I would like the Witcher 3. However when I tried playing it initially I was stuck on who Geralt was and not who other people said he was so I set the game aside and read all the books expect season of storms (I knew it came out after the game) because I figured it would help me play the game. I love reading so this wasn't a problem and I love the books and am now making my way through the game.

What I have to say is that I do not understand how someone could get the maximum amount of Witcher experience from the game alone. Geralt learns and changes in the books and you need to know him and his companions to make that games make sense.

What are your thoughts on this cause I have a friend who loves the games but hasn't read the books and yes I have told her to read them for her own benefit.

what i've found is that it really depends on the individual, what they define "the witcher experience." for some people, that's only going to be the games, for others, it will be the books first, then games, and for others still it will be just the books, and so on. i've been all three of the above, and there's even more, for instance, people who want to consume every single media that gets produced with the "witcher" name, because... witcher!

the games trilogy stands by itself as its own cycle of storytelling, apart from the books, so i can understand how some fans feel that the books aren't needed to have a "full" experience. i think even xletalis expressed this in one of his videos (i used to watch them way back when), where he said that he felt "satisfied" or "complete" after playing the games, so he didn't feel any need to read the books.

it's also up to the individual on whether or not the books will help or hinder their game experience. some context is helpful, but if you focus too much on the books while playing the games, it begins to detract from the games experience (at least, it did for me).

i really couldn't go back to witcher 3 the same way i did after i read the books, because the thing i enjoyed the most in witcher 3, and which also took up a lot of the time—riding around the map on roach—had become depressing and dull. whereas when i first played the game, it was like freedom for geralt to ride with swords on his back, doing witcher things, when i came back to it after reading, all i could think about was how alone geralt was, riding alone, with no one to talk to, no one to fill the silence. i kept thinking about the hanza's shallow graves... i missed dandelion with his banter and his lute... and i felt the weight of the swords, the desperation and frustration of losing ciri...

and this made me realize that between different medias, there are different priorities for the audience.

in the books, it's the dialogue, the characters, in short: the writing, which is the focus. and this writing is not always "fun" to engage with. yes, it's enjoyable to read, but is often about really heavy topics or feelings, bringing to light some unsavory truths, bringing you to strong emotions. and it's a dialogue with the author, whose tendencies and ideas about the canon i'm trying to figure out as i go. and the witcher largely focuses on the suffering of its characters, and though they retain their hope, their lives are not exactly power fantasies or figures i'd like to live vicariously through.

for instance, geralt as a witcher in witcher 3 feels powerful and cool, but in the books, though he has badass moments, in the storytelling it's exactly the opposite. his "witcher's work" is quite literally just his day job, one he doesn't really enjoy but has to do because otherwise he'll starve, and which often brings him to dark places and fills him with regrets and doubts.

witchering in the books is not presented as something fun and game-like, and this difference in approach makes it difficult to transition back into playing a game for enjoyment. the books, though they depict violence, are really anti-violence and usually (usually, although it's very satisfying sometimes) depict killing as a brutal necessity and not something to aspire to. ciri's story as she struggles with revenge is really best encompassing this, but it's also present in geralt's storyline.

another example is that of regis, as when i first played blood and wine i thought he and dettlaff storming dun tynne was totally badass, but after i read the books, it felt... bad. i saw him as having an incredibly complex relationship with violence and bloodshed, and self-defining as a coward... (blood and wine, though it acknowledged his sobriety, had him break it again and didn't really take the time to explore the effects of this). it didn't feel like it aligned with his character motivations and conflicts from the books.

that was how it was for me playing from a books perspective. but from a games perspective, it's different.

though there are many ways people interact with video games, and i'm not knocking witcher 3's storytelling or saying that you can't engage with video games as stories, i'm only speaking from how i personally engage with video games: i like to maximize the "fun" out of them, the interactive play element.

unlike in a book, i'm often not looking for long and drawn-out philosophical discussions, but witty exchanges or great one-liners. i want cool fights and interesting questlines that lead me somewhere as a player. storytelling is more cause-and-effect than contemplative narrative. and witcher 3 does everything about a video game really well, it's very fun to play.

when i first played witcher 3, riding on horseback with a silver sword as bright as a lightning bolt is all i ever wanted. then after i read the books, i came from this area where the witcher-ing reality was purposefully questioned. it wasn't just like "yooo, endrega nest! blow this shit up!" it was like, "i wonder what the ecological effect of destroying this nest is... oh god... did those rotfiends back there have families..." because... well, the books just make you think like that.

so, i wouldn't say that you necessarily need the books or the games to enjoy either, because for me, they're quite separate: separate attitudes, separate approaches. the books will help you understand what's going on in the games, but can also distract from what the games do well. the games are good because they're good at being games, the books are good because they're good at being books. so it's fine to want to just have one-or-the-other; just don't expect them to translate over.

however, from a cohesive "storytelling perspective," i.e., continuity's sake, i do think it makes sense to read the books to understand character relationships, as you mentioned.

for instance, i did not really understand geralt and dandelion's friendship until i read the short stories and got a better look at why they are friends (though it's also my fault for only playing the third game, they're much better in the first two i know).

i also didn't get geralt and yennefer as a couple until i read the books twice (it's more of a longer story there. but basically, i couldn't read rivia and be like 'nah they shouldn't be together'... like she died on top of his dead body. they're kind of together forever whether anyone likes it or not lol). this was also due to a lot of yennefer slander i read from more game-based fans who didn't read any of the books, but swore that she was cruel and abusive to geralt, and i made the mistake of trusting their word for it since "they know more than i do!"

at the same time, it might be more confusing for an audience, because some characters in the game get reduced to their un-developed character state from the books, so they can then arc within the game.for instance, yennefer in witcher 3 is less like the lady of the lake yennefer, and more like the sword of destiny yennefer.

additionally, some characters are just straight up changed in personality, for instance, triss who has become more brave and assertive in the games, a "pseudo-yennefer." though you can chalk this up to character development occurring in the space of time since the books ended, i think it is confusing to try and pawn it off as the same character with continuity, since we don't see any of that development happening it feels like an abrupt change.

even with characters that cdpr got really "right," i prefer to see them as entirely separate characters and canons (this is about regis. lol) because it's disturbing to see some of the changes and try to take that as a "canon continuation".

this was all kind of a ramble, so i hope i answered your question!

tl;dr my answer would be that it really depends on the player/reader and what they want to get out of the experience; if they feel satisfied with having the knowledge they have or if they want more depth and explanations, if they care to deal with the complexity of marrying two canons with each other, or don't want to get too deep into the multimedia universe.

in my own space, i like to think about the books as a complete cycle, and then engage with games/other mediums with an "i'll entertain it, if it's entertaining" attitude—so i really can't judge if someone wants to only look into the games, that's just the mirror-reverse of what i do.

however, i think it's worth it to look into the other medias, even if it doesn't end up being something you're primarily interested in. like, just read the first book, or play a little of the third game (i choose these because they're the easiest to get into). try to talk to fans who like those medias most, see what they like about it.

i think this can not only help you think about what you enjoy about your own "witcher experience," but also start to understand why other fans like this other media so much, which can then help you have, or understand, more conversations.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hi ! I'm really enjoying your blog, i'm kind of amazed at how much you're able to write !

I'm super happy to see you writing for K tbh !

Love all about it ^^

Soo, um- first ask from me !

(I don't need to say it maybe but take your time, irl first then the rest can follow)

I was wondering how Kusanagi would try to date a friend he has known for some years, without any kind of romantic feelings between them before-

And.. his crush possibly is kind of avoiding him because they're overhelmed-

(They have dated only one person before)

But they want to date him

And in the end they do end up dating ^^

(I know it's a bit specific djjdjdjjdkd)

Thank you so much in advance ^^

Take care !

((Idk how to end this message))

You're great !

I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying the blog, my dear! Thank you so much for the compliments and for sending in the request! Specific is good, so don’t even worry about that. The more specific an ask, the easier it is to know what exactly to write. Thanks again for sending this in and I hope you’ll enjoy the headcanons 😊

Okay, so just playing this scenario out in my head, I feel this old friend of Kusanagi’s is someone he would have met during his school years, possibly high school or even university, though I lean more towards them having met in high school.

I know you said there’s been no romantic feelings between them before, but I can’t really see that entirely. I feel like this was a situation where Kusanagi would have had a silent crush on them during a time when they didn’t feel the same way towards him at all, so he did nothing to act on it. And they probably had a couple times where they kind of developed a little crush on him, but at that point, he wasn’t into them at all or was in another relationship, so his friend never acted on those feelings and did their best to get over it. It was a case of timing never matching up and really, to the both of them, their friendship was the main priority. While Kusanagi is charming and charismatic and does draw people to him, does make lots of friendly acquaintances, he makes very few true friends so when he does, those friendships do mean something to him.

While the both of them would have had feelings during their school years, just at different times, when Kusanagi went to university, which I feel he did abroad and at a really prestigious school, the both of them really did figure that it was never going to happen between them and both of them really set those feelings aside and worked past them. His friend got into their one relationship they’ve had, and as we all know Kusanagi has somewhat of a reputation as a womanizer.

Now, Kusanagi is someone who is really naturally very flirtatious. He doesn’t even mean anything by it, doesn’t actually have romantic intentions or even strong attractions to some of the people he flirts with. Flirting is just really fun to him; it’s amusing and enjoyable. And it’s likely that he’ll playfully flirt with his friend, and they’ve gotten so used to it and really don’t think he means anything by it.

And that’s before he even experiences those romantic feelings and that crush on his friend return.

It works against him in a way. When he does realize he’s seeing his friend as someone he wants to date, someone he seriously wants to be with, it’s going to take him a little bit to really process those feelings. He has to decide if he wants to potentially ruin that friendship, he has to decide if he feels they’re at all into him in return. And part of how he’s always learned to figure that out is by flirting. So, he’s flirting more with that friend than before, taking it to a new level than his previous flirting. He’ll tease them about how, when they’re out doing things and hanging out, how much fun he’s having on their ‘dates’. And because his friend is so used to him being a flirt and having that penchant for teasing someone because it amuses him, they’re not making anything of it. They don’t assume it means he’s into them.

But it does bother them on some level, because they’re also starting to feel that resurgence of their old crush on him. The flirting makes them feel so nice, but at the same time, it kind of hurts them in a way because they really want him to be saying those things to them seriously and instead they’re certain that he’s just being his usual playful self and isn’t into them at all.

It’s kind of a lot for his friend, honestly. They’re dealing with all these emotions and because Kusanagi is trying a little more seriously this time to act on his feelings, he’s being more flirty, he gives more compliments, he starts touching them more, starts taking them out more one on one or asking them on ‘dates’ and they take it as him playing around and it fucks with their mind and their feelings and so they start to avoid him a little, which makes Kusanagi assume they’re not into him at all, even when they are.

It’s not going to be a quick solution or an easy one. Kusanagi has some stubbornness to him, he’s not easily going to cave and admit feeling the way he does towards someone who is giving him all these signs that they’re not at all into him. And his friend is really struggling with their own feelings and it’s going to be a little waiting game to see who makes that next move and it really is going to have to be Kusanagi’s friend, even in subtle ways.

If they start giving him hints that they might be experiencing the same romantic intentions, that’s really all he needs because without them giving him some kind of hint as to their feeling, some positive reactions to his putting out feelers, it’s really going to go back to those ‘well, they don’t feel the same, time to finally get over this and just go back to being friends’.

If there’s enough positive reactions to both of them subtly flirting and feeling each other out, to low-key dating each other, then I can see there being that surety that will let Kusanagi have that conversation that confirms that they’re a couple and exclusive.

[deviant-dveloper]

Hypno.exe in 2023!

Read on: Subscribe Star | Itch.io | Tumblr | GitHub

See all my stuff on AllMyLinks

Like a good time in the night, the new year has come and gone.

I have taken the liberty of getting some rest from focused development through January, so now with the turning of the month I return again to continue working towards a better application for better mind-melting, brain-washing, awareness-annihilating, goodness.

So what does this mean, exactly?

Firstly: Dedicated development time each week, set aside from the standard, full-time work I am engaged in. This will be accompanied by social media posts about the work done that week, available in four flavors: Twitter, Tumblr, Mastodon, and Hive Social (which has nothing to do with the dronification fetish collective of the same name). This way you can keep an eye and/or ear on me and the work I am doing, and can immediately call me out should a week pass without an update of some kind.

Secondly: Hypno.exe itself is getting a major overhaul. While I am not entirely re-writing it from the ground up, I am giving it heavy restructuring as part of upgrading it to Unreal Engine 5.1, so the next release will be slower coming than in the past, but when it does arrive it will have the same amount of features as it currently has, while having a completely reworked UI and better handling of large data like images and audio, as well as the general upgrades to stability, usability, and under-the-hood goodness. Maybe even proper VR support too, if the stars are right.

Thirdly: I will be taking a more proactive approach to both social media and whatever kind of community can be fostered around Hypno.exe; the more who use it and share their experiences, the better for everyone. Interacting with the people who use Hypno.exe in their hypnotic hi-jinks will better help to shape and guide its development as time goes by. Likewise, a healthy community provides avenues for people to request from, and make Programs for, other users.

To these ends, here is how you can help and/or be involved:

You can help by supporting development on Subscribe Star! This will help fund source control and automated build pipelines, which will drastically improve my production process, as well as generally supporting me and the work I am doing. With enough support I could even bring on a real UX designer to make a real UI not designed by me (a programmer). As a supporter you will also get you perks like exclusive discord channel access (more on that below), early builds, direct influence on development, and even priority support.

You can help and keep updated by following me on any social that you prefer, or all, or some. In order of my preference/favoritism: Subscribe Star, Twitter, Tumblr, Itch.io, Mastodon, and Hive Social. The serotonin and dopamine that your encouragement provides is no small thing, so it helps production.

You can get involved by joining the Discord! It is early days yet, but a major part of how Hypno.exe is being built is to have Programs and experiences be easily sharable, be it via .hypno files or exported videos, and Discord is a perfect test-bed for such features. Likewise, a community of other users is a great way to learn how to better make use of Hypno.exe's features, and meet other people interested in hypnosis generally.

Finally, you can keep informed by checking out the GitHub! It may seem boring (and it is) but there you can find information like: known bugs, planned features, how-to documentation, systems diagrams, and possibly more.

I am going to make 2023 be a big year for Hypno.exe, and those of you who are already providing support and encouragement are deeply appreciated, you have made the road to this point far more enjoyable than it might have been, and I look forward to your continued support in the year(s) to come!

[missparker]

Hiiii, I haven't seen you on the birdsite in ages, so in lieu of, like, conversation, here are ask meme questions!

14 how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

17 What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

66 How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

74 You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Hiiii, the bird app and I are having moral and philosophical disagreements right now but you can always find me on threads, FB, and insta. 

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

I am always surprised when people tell me they laughed out loud or cried or had any sort of big emotional response to something I’ve written. And while I know that’s like the goal, there’s no guarantee that what you connect to emotionally is going to hit the same note for another person. Which is to say, I think I do tend to get into the head of a character, or I let them into my head. Is that different? Who knows. I think you have to feel it a little for it to ring true. 

I draw a ton from personal experience, be it conversations I’ve had, situations I’ve been in, things that I’ve felt. I always say that if you’ve read my fic, you probably know me better than anyone I know casually in my real life. Also, it’s real terrifying when someone you know in real life wants to read your fic! Stop perceiving me!

17.  What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

This is so tricky, because there’s no good way that works a) every time and b) for every person. For me, sometimes I have to write through the block and just unclog it with some trash before the good words start flowing again, but also sometimes I need the break and pushing through it only causes more harm. It’s really a matter of knowing yourself and checking in with what you need to keep making good art. Sometimes when I get stuck on a particular story, I know that I need to delete a big chunk of it but I’m stubborn and don’t want to and I spend too much time trying to fix it before ultimately doing what I knew I needed to do all along and just delete it. I think you have to be willing to admit you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere. And sometimes what needs to be deleted doesn’t need to be thrown away forever, but it’s just not right for THIS story. 

66. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

When it comes to fic, most of the pressure I put onto myself. I’ve learned to just ignore the comments that ask for more, demand updates etc because those don’t serve me in any positive way. I always appreciate when people read and comment, but fic is a gift we give of our time and effort and talent and it’s kind of a “you get what you get when you get it” situation. When I wrote greener grasses, I put myself on a weekly update schedule and I could do it but it was TOUGH. For my latest WIP, it’s months between updates and that’s okay too because it just has to be. 

Now, for writing that gets published, it’s sort of a different can of worms. Deadlines do matter, because you’re just one author working with editors who have their own deadlines and you’re part of a big schedule of authors and editors and if you’re late, it impacts a lot of people. I get a lot more strict with myself about achieving a certain word count every day, setting aside blocks of time to revise, etc. It takes priority over other things for sure. But I treat it like any other job - triage tasks, give it the time it deserves, do my best.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it? 

This is so funny because I think I do kind of have a distinctive style, at least people have said as such to me. One time another fic got posted and someone said it was written in a missparker style and I was like… am I so predictable?! But no, I think it was a compliment. Anyway, my style is domestic and character focused and probably someone is gonna drink coffee and probably someone is gonna go pee and probably it’s gonna start with song lyrics.

Thanks, @sarking!

Get to know your fic writer! | ask box

[tentajack]

I think i figured out what the core of my current mental state is coming from.

Whenever I have a major life shift, whenever from my frequent severe illnesses or mass irl re-shifting or an unfortunately timed wombo combo of both, my priorities and time management and brain worms and even my tastes in media and creation will shift, sometimes a little, other times a fuckton.

That's not even going into some minor personality changes, which is why I've dubbed this kind of event an ego reshuffle. It's occurred many times, and it fucking sucks, sometimes occurring at the same time as either a partial burnout or a full one (never want to live though that again). The most severe one was when I had moved and had to adjust to working life... resulting in taking a four year hiatus from almost all art, which at that time had all been traditional with a little training in how to use ps and illustrator to supplement.

By the time I did get the spark back, it was nothing like what it had been before: drawing reverse centaurs and ponies on /mlp/ with only a mouse and GIMP and writing some smutty greentext on the side, almost nothing to do with how I had created previously aside from some side screenshot edits, back around about 2014 or so.

Time has come and gone,and I've had lesser versions of this kind of shift, but for clarity I'm just going to focus on what I've been making, more so what I haven't been making.

I've made lots of things that I love, and I don't regret taking over writing updates for Royal Quest, or any of the lovingly gay ass shit I've written elsewhere, but in the shuffle I forgot I was supposed to be working on game development this whole fucking decade.

It was easy to lose sight of that goal right from the start, especially with the fatigue issues I discovered after a few years at a desk job. I'd try to make sure I was making some sort of progress, either learning blender or setting up documentation for how to set up an alpha version of a game idea. But between constant and chronic health issues, a marriage to my loving wife that I must confess is much more co-dependent than I should allow, employment upheavals, and growing as a person outside of the shadow of my upbringing, shit got a little too chaotic, and my goals and dreams and everything about myself that wasn't tied to either survival or pleasure (I like to entertain a crowd with my art and writing and I'm not ashamed to admit that, but the chase of serotonin really backfired for focusing on long term projects... or all the gratuitous smut, again not sorry at all for that) simply got buried and forgotten.

I remembered just today that I yearn to participate in game dev in some form, any form, and it would explain why my ambition would burn me up despite doing what I could, given I was not making any progress in making an actual game. Strengthening my skills and making wonderful friends, yes, but if I'm not making tangible progress I feel like I'm dying. My ambition is a living flame, and if i do not feed it, it will find something to burn. It does not help that thanks to my irl commitments and chronic fatigue that my ability to draw and write and make has become painfully slow, and that's really really bad for making a game with no outside help.

I can already see what I need to do:

>Properly cancel Royal Quest

This one will be hard to walk away from, but it's been nearly five years since I hijacked it, and I need to move on no matter what before the five year mark. It's a shame I never got around to the three or four scenes where all the consequences of player actions came to bloom, but I can at least write up a short summary of what those would have been in multiple places and hope my players see the announcement on /cyoag/ to know I'm not coming back for a long while. QM'ing has been such a fun experience, but writing daily updates where pacing suffered due to my own fatigue isn't a great way to finish that story. Maybe I'll remake the whole thing in rpg maker someday in the far future, I still love the setting and characters too much to let them go for good. This will hurt me to do, I do not abandon any project lightly.

>Force finish all my don't starve WIP's

This one is more so the fault of an extended busy season and a bad illness, but I am way past overdue to finish A midwinters nightmare, and the two remaining chapters are not something I want lingering in my work queue. I'm going to need to finish both chapters by the end of February at the latest, even if it winds up being a shitpost-like version, I hate abandoning projects once they're in the public view and it is not an option for something I want to finish like this. I think the only other 'expected thing' was some out-of-season kinktober stuff that I'm going to try to do in February if I can balance my time well in the coming weeks

>Wrap up any other side projects and start daily dev progress

Once I have no promises hanging over me, I'm going to start some pre-production stuff on one particular game idea I had for a hunting/fishing/horror game, so that even if I need to fall back to a more 2d/sprite oriented game later on I'll still have solidified what I need for that main project. I know nobody's first game goes as first expected, but it won't mean anything if I never have a first game in the first place. I'll likely be posting those updates one way or another here or on pillowfort, so I can keep myself accountable (except on days I get sick).

That's all I have to say on the topic for now, it's late at night but I feel my ambition being fed again with this rediscovery. I still want to do fandom stuff, but it might become more and more of a backburner thing until I can manage time for all projects again.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture. 

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.” 

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 

Nicholas?

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?” 

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you. 

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods. 

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.” 

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.” 

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 

There was no going back now. 

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 

His stomach does a flip. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 

Gosh.

Next part

[writingwithcolor]

General tips on writing Indian Muslim characters (as a Desi Writer)

pending-dream asked:

This may come off as weird because I am Desi myself, but I was wondering if you had any tips on writing Indian Muslim characters? Specifically Bengali Muslims. While I'm Indian myself, I've grown up around Hindus, and with an extremely islamphobic family. I'm planning on writing a pretty light hearted story where one of the main male characters, a teenager, is Muslim. 

Religion doesn't really play a huge role in the story, but since it IS set in Kolkata, a lot of the environment and events reflect the culture I grew up with, and it's largely influenced by me being a Hindu Bengali (for example, puja, visiting temples, attending Hindu weddings) so I feel like I wouldn't be able to accurately represent the experience of a Muslim growing up in India. 

Perspective from a fellow Hindu: For me, it’s Research Research Research, but in two parts! 

First is your basic research on the cultural differences between being Bengali as a Muslim v. Hindu. This is pretty straightforward. The second part is harder because it entails dismantling your own personal and familial biases. Having Muslim desi friends helps, but depending on where you are, that can be ...challenging (My family had a spell of the vapors when they found out one of my best friends in college was Muslim). More importantly, as I’m sure you know, friends don’t exist to educate us, so it’s important that you put in the work. For me, that meant doing more research on my own.

I still worry about intrinsic bias. It rears its head often, but for my own education, I did my best to read up on Islam from a variety of perspectives as well as regional history/ geopolitics for different sects. The other thing I researched was the history of South Asia in depth, from the perspective of more objective parties who would have no reason to sensationalize South Asian history. I’ve also found anti-caste movements and activists to be a helpful source of insight. A trick I often employ when writing is I slow my thinking down. I follow my instincts, but I also explore where those instincts come from. 

I’m not always a big proponent of beta-reading because I think it often creates a “too many cooks” situation, but hiring a Muslim desi as a beta-reader may be a very sensible solution down the line given your particular situation. On a broader level, overcoming Islamophobia is an important, personal, lifelong priority for me. I’ve tried to position myself to meet desis from all walks of life and have discussions on pan-South Asian issues with like-minded individuals. My goal is not to make friends simply to claim I have Muslim friends, but rather to learn more about the history and culture of this region that is my heritage. I encourage you to do the same. I think you’ll find it beneficial both for your writing and for your own personal growth. Any further insight, I defer to our Muslim mods. 

- Marika.

As a North African, I can only speak for the Muslim side of your character. Marika has given you the most important part of creating this character. Unlearning the biases that we have grew up with or that we were taught indirectly is a key factor in correctly representing a character from a certain group or community. Keep in mind that every household is different, so take your time to understand how both the cultural and religious side merge in the identity of your Bengali Muslim character.

When doing your research, you will find plenty of creators out there who identify as Bengali Muslims and that is good. Do not limit yourself and take from every perspective until you finally start to building your character. Also, aside from the cultural/religious background, your character is a teenager – they might only follow the basics of their religion, they should commit mistakes, they should fail, and more importantly, they are individuals with their own personality. Being a Muslim, even though it constitutes a huge part of who we are, does not restrict our way of being. 

- Asmaa

[cherishedproperty]

The context of D/s can change everything.

I’ve had a few wines, and I’m feeling wordy. So I want to write some stuff.

A lot of people follow me because of this post. And the other sex ones. There are a decent amount, if you go deep diving for them. And that’s definitely part of my D/s life. But it’s not most of it.

Listen, I’ve had the dynamic with the Dom I never said no to. I’ve had the dynamic with the high protocol reporting of everything I did and everywhere I went. I’ve had the dynamic where he knocked me to the ground with his foot on my face, made me cry, transformed me into Someone Else. And I am glad I had those experiences. Those experiences taught me lot about the kind of submissive I am—the kinds of possibilities I need my dynamic to contain.

But now I am nearly three years into the only dynamic I’ve ever had that needed to be compatible with Real Life. The rest have existed in bubbles—a monthly visit, a weekly spanking...things that didn’t have to exist in the context of work and parenting and friendships. They existed in their own space and time. In a way, that was beautiful and wonderful. I could set aside an afternoon or a couple days and fully immerse myself in my submission. And the rest of the time, we sustained the dynamic through online messages and pictures. I learned a lot about myself, because I had the space to discover myself.

But being in a 24/7 dynamic and living with my partner is just fundamentally different. I’ve had to relearn a lot of what I thought I knew about D/s and what I thought I knew about myself as a submissive. I’ve had moments where I felt like an absolute shit submissive, and my Dominant has had to chastise me for holding myself to standards he never set for me. We have had to negotiate—and renegotiate—what a healthy 24/7 dynamic looks like for us. And we’ll keep revisiting it as life circumstances change. But for now, I feel like we’ve evolved toward the healthiest dynamic for who we are and what we need.

It’s not the most intense. We’ve both had experiences that are more intense, I think—either in the beginning of our relationship or with others. But the dynamic is there. And the intensity is there in flashes. Our relationship contains that intensity, for sure. But when you have to balance the household management and childrearing and jobs and life decisions, some of that fades to the background. We haven’t neglected our dynamic; it’s still there. But some things take priority. 

Since we are in an open relationship, we’ve both acknowledged that, if we had a partner we saw once or twice a month, those dynamics would probably feel much more intense. At least in the moment. Because they exist in pockets of time, where you can set aside mental space for them, and they don’t compete with the rest of your life. It’s just easier that way sometimes. And if he has that (or I do), I don’t think that invalidates the dynamic we have together. What we have is deep and enduring. Our power exchange doesn’t have to be performed at max level in every moment we are together, because it is a constant undercurrent in everything we do. And then sometimes—when the kid is at her dad’s and neither of us is 1000% exhausted from work—sometimes that sadistic spark flickers in his eyes and I know I am in for it. Like that sexy post, and the others like it. And I am so glad we have that. 

It’s different from what I had before, in text messages and stolen weekends. And I’m not saying either way is worse or better, or more or less real. But they have had different places in my life, and I’ve had to function very differently as a submissive in each kind of relationship. The context, for me, matters a whole whole lot in how I am able to sustainable and joyfully submit. 

[duckprintspress]

How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours. 

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time. 

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten. 

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed. 

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!) 

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow. 

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

[alegzandryan]

Prepping for a Ritual

So since I am doing these things as we speak I thought I would go through some ritual things that I find useful, for anyone that feels overwhelmed or unprepared for ritual work. I know tumblr and tiktok have pushed a lot of easy jar spells on us, but there really is something more to a ritual setting, even a simple one. And as it goes without saying, this is my personal idea of a guide and everyone is entitled to their own opinion and practice.

Get your supplies ready the day before the ritual. ESPECIALLY if you are going outside/somewhere outside your home. Collect all the things you will need and put them together. This will give you a day to remember all the things you forgot before it's time, instead of in the middle of your ritual

Choose what you are going to wear the day before, too. Some people take aesthetic very seriously but others dont. Either way, give some thought to what you are wearing. Is that crystal necklace good for what you are doing? Are those pants comfortable enough to sit for 30 minutes in? Comfortability is just as important as presentation for ritual, so dont wear that corset that hurts you after 15 minutes. You will need to focus on more important things.

Foot wear is also super underrated. Are you hiking 10 minutes into the forest to find a ritual spot? Wear boots. Are you in your house and want to go barefoot? Make absolutely sure you are not going to step on a ritual tool and make yourself bleed, or curse to some gods about the existence of legos in the middle of your ritual

Make some stuff for a cleansing/power bath. I usually assemble ingredients and things day before, then go to bed, and do a quick ritual bath before the actual ritual. Steep a hair rinse or charm a fancy body wash before hand so you dont have to focus on that spell, too.

Do a tarot reading/your preferred divination, before bed the day before you do a ritual. It can be quick or extensive, it doesnt matter. But it can be good to get some guidance before you are gearing up for a spell or ritual, and have some time to think about it before you are minutes away from it.

Prepare food and water, once again especially if you are going outside. Rituals can take a lot out of you depending on what you are doing, and food and drink are very easy and quick ways to help ground yourself if you are shaky or need help coming back to a relaxed state. If you are struggling, boiling pasta or microwaving stuff is the last thing on your mind, or maybe even your ability. So have some fruit snacks or granola bars or cookies or something-- easy to take and easy to eat-- with you. Trust me, this is more important than a lot of people realize. It's a good after-ritual practice and one you should be ready for

Think about your intent and purpose. Set aside some time day-before to do this, maybe 30 min to 1 hr I would say. Maybe make an entry in your BOS if you are the journaling type. This serves 2 functions: one is to charge your intent before the spell. It will give you more oomph and precision in your spell casting, or more prepared behavior if you are speaking to gods. Think about what you want to ask them, what you want them to know, how much respect you should give them, or what they may ask of you. What are you willing to do for them, and what are you not?

The second function is that it gives you time to back out of something. Not all spells are meant to be cast, and especially not if you are in a high emotion before it. Give yourself a day to prepare, an hour to think over, why am I doing this? SHOULD I be doing this even? There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. Doing things impulsively in magic isn't typically beneficial to the caster most of the time. Think through potential consequences, too. How could it back fire? How could it go right but in the wrong way? Is there a better way to get what you want? Can you add a caveat, or a time limit on the spell? Are you using parts of a closed practice and not really thought about it before now?

If you are doing spell work in the out-of-your-house-space-land, even if it is just like, in your appartment parking lot, the park down the street or even your own backyard, make sure someone somewhere knows about it. I know not everyone is out of the broom closet, but even if you just have to tell your friends you are stargazing or something, make sure SOMEONE knows and has a check in time for you. There are creeps and terrible people everywhere, and not to spook anybody, but doing magic can often attract animals or any assortment of beings who want to watch/investigate you. I have been given a heart attack by a baby antelope at dawn before. I have also been given a heart attack by a forest spirit asking wtf I was doing there. I know it doesnt exactly feel witchy to have your cellphone crammed in your waistband, but trust me, better safe than sorry. Be it humans or otherwise, doing magic in the dark in total secret is just not realistic to your safety. Take someone with you and have them wait in the car or around the corner if you can. Once again, make sure someone, somewhere, has a set time to call or come get you in, incase you get kidnapped or fae-napped. Your wellbeing is a much higher priority than any magic spell.

Also familiarize yourself with nearby wildlife. Even if you are in the city, check out what raccoon eyes look like in flashlight, or maybe if your suburb is prone to stray cats or dogs. Check out a rabies registry as well, so you know what kind of risk you are looking at around such animals. Rabid animals are actually more prone to being unafraid of human contact and will readily let a person touch them. Do NOT interact with wild animals. No, they are not a sign or a gift from your god. Most animals are curious about magic in general, but that doesnt make them not wild. Do not interact. If you are in a less populated space, you should also check out what kind of wild life is native to your area and how dangerous they are. Deer will startle themselves into you like getting hit by a BMW and bears and cougars can be active day or night, as well as Bobcats, snakes, or coyotes. Check out your local wildlife center for advice on how to handle what lives in your area

(Last outdoors advice, I promise) also check out what kind of myths and legends existed on the land you are on, ESPECIALLY if you live in north america. Knowing who's land you are on should be important to your practice anyway, and knowing what kind of creatures may be out there may save you some distress later. Indigenous cultures should be respected, and their tales can tell you what's around your area. And I dont care where the hell you live, if you hear whistling in the darkness/forests, it is one of several things coming to get you and none of them are good. Get gone and DONT whistle back. Or at all. No whistling guys. Bad.

For indoor rituals, make sure you wont be disturbed. Much like meditation, rituals are very dependent on focus and intent. Interruptions can mess with your outcome.

More indoor advice, checkout your lighting and ventilation well before you do your ritual. For instance, my altar is in a walk in closet-- there is no way in hell I am burning 4 candles and an incense in that room. I would have to do it in my living room or bedroom where there are windows, or find a way to eliminate the candles. Is the room dark enough to fit your ritual? Is it light enough that you can read your notes? (also make notes/write up a copy of the spell, it helps so much) Make sure you have enough light to see what you are doing properly.

I am a big advocate of "do not over cleanse your life, stop over cleansing" however, if that is something you do a lot of, make sure all your tools and whatnot are cleansed and prepared day before. You can shave a 2hr ritual down to 30 min if you get all of your prep work done day before, which is nice. And it once again gives you time to say "shit I forgot that one thing I need to cleanse" an hour later and still not interrupt your ritual because it is day before.

If you are an of-legal-age type person and doing some drug/alcohol part of your magic, make double sure you have food, water, and a buddy system. You may not need a designated driver if you aren't going out of your house, but you still need a designated sober person to make sure you dont like, astral travel out of your body and get replaced with a pod person, or get hurt trying to cast a circle with a ritual knife while high. Know your limits well before you use them in ritual and, I cannot emphasize this enough, have a friend to keep you under scrutiny incase something goes wrong and you need help.

If you are having the OTHER kind of must-be-of-age type of ritual, be sure your partner is well informed. Maybe have a dress rehearsal so you are both on the same page about mechanics and consent. Speed run through the general timing and motions, and talk about what each of you expect to get out of the ritual. Is it for bonding? Or are you using the energy to try to charge something? Is it for fertility? Are you both good to have ritualized sex (I know that seems like an obvious question, but you would be surprised by how many partners clam up about sexual things to try to not disappoint their partner). If you are a witch and your partner is not, be sure they know what to expect, and that they 100% want to do it even though it's not necessarily their practice and not just to be a people pleaser. If you havent done anything like this before either, tell them that, too. Honestly is 100% required here

And lastly, keep your cool. It's easy to get over excited or over anxious about this kind of thing, but honestly with a little prep time you have a high change of doing awesome. And even if you dont? That's okay too. Everyone makes mistakes, we all learn from those mistakes, and every single experience you acquire will level you up until you are the best at being you. Do what feels right, trust your gut, do some reading, and keep calm and witchy on.

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

 I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay. 

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

 primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully 

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom. 

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it. 

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

 Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy. 

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

 Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale. 

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

 make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on. 

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

 our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch  

 two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes. 

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them. 

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.” 

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

 we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love. 

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

 Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on. 

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

 The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with. 

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

 darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married. 

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

 the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic. 

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

 Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites. 

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

 A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

 Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience. 

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

 Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride. 

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

 No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

 Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together. 

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

 Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while. 

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

--

For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

 The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

 Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

 cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!! 

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

 Routine, by snoqualmie  (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly. 

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

 Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso. 

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

 Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read. 

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

 the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit. 

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

 the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it. 

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

 I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful. 

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong. 

 my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.  

 Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth. 

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week. 

 especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love. 

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

 sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried. 

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

 of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together. 

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

 cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot. 

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

 Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa. 

 Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it. 

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

 i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

 old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet. 

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

 all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay. 

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings. 

 we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it. 

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.  

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

 Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother. 

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

-

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

 film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru. 

 how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

[fairy-primarina528]

A Lucky Future

Summary: One year has passed since Clover went on her Gym Challenge. At age 14, she comes to the realization about what she wants to do in life.

Word Count: 404

Author's Notes: I just really wanted to write about Clover realizing that she wants to become a Pokémon Ranger. So, I wrote this story out on a whim.

One hot summer afternoon in Wedgehurst, 14 year old Clover was laying down on her shiny Dubwool's fleece. She spent some time recalling her own experience with the Gym Challenge. As much as she loved battling, Clover learned that she doesn't like being in the spotlight. Pursuing fame was never a priority to her. She preferred being surrounded by nature instead of the paparazzi. All of a sudden, Clover has a realization about her future aspirations.

"I've spent so much time in the Wild Area that it's almost like a second home to me. I know what I want to do in life, Wooly. I can't wait to tell my parents!"

Wooly bleated affectionately as Clover stood upright. Both Trainer and Pokémon left the backyard and went inside. Meanwhile, Hop and Gloria were in the living room analyzing Galar Particle fluctuations. They set aside their data after noticing Clover enter the room and gave her their undivided attention.

"Mum, Dad, I've made up my mind about my future. I've found a career that combines two of my favourite interests: battling and learning about wildlife. I want to become a Pokémon Ranger! This is my own way of helping people and Pokémon!"

Hop and Gloria were very surprised by their daughter's revelation. They want to make sure that Clover wasn't jumping to conclusions.

"Wanting to become a Ranger is quite the ambition," said Hop.

"Are you aware of what you're getting yourself into?" asked Gloria.

"I know that I'll have to study ecology, environmental science and the Dynamax phenomenon. I'll also need to go through first aid and wilderness survival training. It's going to be a lot of work, but I'll perservere through all the hardships!" replied Clover.

Clover's reply gave her parents a sense of relief. Hop and Gloria were happy that their daughter had thought carefully about her own future.

"It's good to see that you've got everything all figured out," said Gloria.

"Your mother and I are proud of you. We'll always support you and your dreams!" exclaimed Hop.

"Really?!?! Thanks, Mum and Dad! I promise that I'll become a full pledge Ranger in no time!" declared Clover.

Clover gave both of her parents a big hug. Wooly has been listening in on the entire conversation. The Sheep Pokémon joined in on the group hug. Clover was so happy that her family was very supportive of her becoming a Ranger.

The End.

[hasereshdoneanythingwrong]

Librarian AU (Part 1)

Faye sat at her desk, its ornate, hand carved top covered in various cards, books, and miscellaneous papers. She fiddled with her glasses as she read her book. It was nice and quiet, this solitary library of hers. With Google being such a predominant means of acquiring information, her humble campus library had gone almost by the wayside.

Faye rubbed the bridge of her nose as she took off her glasses for a moment, She’d have to get back to cleaning soon. It’s preposterous that the head librarian must be the only one to clean an entire university library, but it couldn’t be helped. Funds were being diverted from her to other facets of the school, leaving the humble librarian to fend for herself. Every once and a while, though, she made sure to put time aside to remind herself why she started this job in the first place; her love of reading.

What a marvelous way to live, surrounded by knowledge and culture! A mountain of books that she could read one every day and never finish them all! Faye sighed at the thought. It wasn’t all roses, unfortunately. Her responsibilities often taking priority over her own enjoyment of her work. Tracking down overdue books was the worst part. Almost everybody who borrowed books from the library seemed to never return what they loaned, meaning she had to be the bad guy more often than she’d liked. Often times leading to fines or people getting disciplined from the dean.

A clock chimed, 4PM. It was almost time for today’s classes to finish up. If there were ever a time for people to come by, it would be after their final class of the day. Faye slowly cleared her desk away, filing the cataloging cards back into their respective drawers and the papers into their files. Finally she marked her spot in her most recent novel and tucked it away below the desk. She’d have to get back to that later. After all, she’d just gotten to the good part of her newest romance novel, and wouldn’t want to lose her spot.

An hour passed as the sun began its descent, shining an orange light through the lofty library windows. No one had come, just like they hadn’t for a couple days now.

Faye: What happened to wanting to learn, to read and gain knowledge? Isn’t that why people come to this school in the first place?

A disgruntled sigh from the young librarian was interrupted by the sound of one of the large oak doors leading into the library being opened. The door closed and Faye laid her eyes upon a young student, by the looks of her uniform. The girl, walked closer, and Faye was able to get a better look at her.

Her blonde hair was tied in long pigtails, held in place by a red and back ribbons, her eyes a deep, dark red, her skin pale, with pale limbs holding her up. The girl walked closer to the desk, stopping just before it as Faye straightened her back.

???: Excuse me Miss--

Faye: Faye, I’m the head librarian.

???: You are? But you’re so young! Faye chuckled a little at that. She’d gotten that quite a lot since she started. Most people regard librarians as decrepit old ladies, not necessarily a twenty-something.

Faye: Well thank you, I suppose, Miss-

Ereshkigal: Ereshkigal. I’m a second year here at Chaldea University.

Faye: Ereshkigal, like the goddess from the Epic of Gilgamesh? Ereshkigal blushed a little. Not many people understood her namesake.

Ereshkigal: Yes, my mother was an avid reader. I grew up hearing old stories like that.

Faye smiled to herself. It was a wonderful thing, hearing that other people loved literature like she did. A rarity nowadays.

Faye: Well she had excellent taste, the Epic was a favorite of mine in highschool, right next to the Iliad and the Odyssey. All that aside, I suppose that small talk isn’t the reason you’re here. How can I help you, Miss Ereshkigal?

Ereshkigal: Please, call me Eresh. My full name’s just a mouthful. I’m actually writing a paper on the Symbolism of Death in the Epic of Gilgamesh, and was hoping you could help me find it.

Faye nodded. It was an odd choice, to be sure, but a good one nonetheless. The librarian gestured to follow her as she took the young girl towards the historical fiction section. It was far back in the intricate library, with many winding turns blocking the way that one could easily get lost in. As they walked, the floors became noticably more aged. These paths weren’t often tread except by Faye herself. She almost considered this a safe haven of hers, though would never say that to anyone.

As they approached the shelf that contained the Epic of Gilgamesh, Faye reached up onto the third shelf, grabbing the old leather-bound book and blowing the dust off of it. Wiping off the rest, Faye handed the book to Eresh, the girl eagerly awaiting the story. As Faye handed the book over, their hands connected briefly, the two of them making eye contact at the gesture, Eresh’s eyes going wide as she quickly took the book.

Eresh: I, um, thank you.

Faye: Of course, I’m, uh, happy to help. I’ll help you check it out up front.

Eresh nodded as they began their trip back. Once the two arrive back at the front desk, Faye took her normal seat, readying the checkout software. Faye looked up at Eresh. There was something about her and- no, Faye was a staff member, It would be wrong to ask a student out for coffee. No, she’d stay in her role and do her job. Even if her job did limit her in capacities such as this.....

Faye: Alright then, you’re all set. Just return it in two weeks or come back to extend the loan date.

Eresh: Thank you so much, Miss Faye!

Faye: Just Faye will do. It’d be weird if you addressed me so formally when we’re so close in age.

Eresh: Then please, call me Eresh.

Faye: Eresh it is then.

With that, Eresh gave Faye a smile that could melt an iceberg and left. Faye sighed, she should’ve dropped the renewal date by a week, just so she could see that girl again. No, that would be wrong. No, just like she said, she’d keep to her role, even if it does mean missing a chance like that..

mentions: @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasquetzdoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong

This idea was planted in my head by Val, so here you go. The first part of my experiment in a slow-burn.... I’m not good at slow.

[onyourzeus]

• with you | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: with you  pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you genre: flufffffff words: 2.9k

author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a lazy day with wonpil + some possibility of a food fight due to baking (i tweaked it a little bit, i hope you don’t mind)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

lazy days with wonpil are the best. it doesn’t happen often, though, because he rarely gets to spend this much time with you

you’ve been relying on voice messages, long texts and the occasional video calls before and during their subunit comeback promotions

granted you were super excited and absolutely stunned by their performances

not to mention the songs in the album are amazing, you have always been supportive of wonpil’s career

ever since you’ve known him, music has always been his top priority. he’s taught you so much of what he’s learned throughout the years being a trainee and a musician in his own right

albeit you doubt you’d ever reach his level of proficiency when it came to understanding music

you’re content just watching him sing, admiring the way he plays the piano so effortlessly, and being so damn lucky to be part of this important journey with him

but of course, it pains you to be so far away, long distance never gets better no matter what they say

as much as you follow along his schedules as a day6 member, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the end of promotions is your actual favorite part of it all

it means that wonpil has some free time to spare, and usually he likes to spend it with you 

this weekend, you knew he didn’t have a lot on his agenda. you’ve specifically cleared the whole two days, logged off on all social media just so your attention can be focused solely on your significant other 

you’ve been giddy all morning, waiting for wonpil to arrive at your place in mere minutes 

when the two of you haven’t seen each other in a while, wonpil personally likes to have you all to himself in a space where no one can bother the two of you. this is why he doesn’t like you going over to their apartment

dowoon doesn’t have a sense of personal space or can he take a hint that wonpil doesn’t want anyone coming into the room when he’s just snuggling with you

so it’s a win win situation overall to have him in your place instead. the clothes he had left in the bottom drawer hasn’t been worn in a while by him. 

(you’re afraid his scent would come off soon if you keep wearing his sweaters and pjs)

you hear the knock on the door and excitedly dash for it, seeing wonpil in the flesh with…

flowers!! 

“hi,” he greets you shyly, the smile on his face neverending, only growing wider as you try your best to embrace him without squishing the gift he has in hand

“i missed you sooooooooo much,” you squeal, immersing yourself in the warmth of his body and his hand pressing against your back 

it feels like forever since you last saw him, so you want to hug him just as long 

“babe, babe— okay, baby, i can’t breathe!!” he laughs, jokingly coughing as he wiggles his way out of your death grasp. you’re not apologetic, only pouting while sliding your fingers in between his free hands 

“do you want to invite me in?” he asks, the sass in his voice unavoidable and you’d like to slap it out of him

but this is what you missed, so you tugged at his hands and welcomed him in your apartment

“are these for me??” he hands you over the bouquet, recognizing instantly the camellia flowers delicately arranged. he doesn’t answer, only letting his pressed lips resisting its way to a smile tell you how it is

“thank you,” you say to him anyway, reluctant but giving in to what you’ve always wanted to do for so long. 

you kiss his cheek, and it feels all so familiar but new at the same time

he gasps for a moment, brows raised up as if in mock offense but steals a quick kiss on your lips before you can question his silly antics 

“thought you could get away with that huh”

and this is what you truly missed being with wonpil, side by side. the way he sheds off that introverted persona online and really ease into his comfortable ways with you. he’s full of love, of course, but there are times when he is subtly teasing with you as a form of affection

you place the camellias in an empty vase you find inside a cabinet. the two of you didn’t necessarily plan out what to do for the day, and that’s usually the case when he spends his free time here

“i just want to be in bed and… cuddle,” wonpil would confess, winning you over with his doe eyes. nine times out of ten, it works

but today you want to talk with him, catch up on what you’ve missed while he was busy with performing and going on variety shows. and wonpil complies because even though he loves just being lazy with you, having his arms enclosing your figure and dozing off that way

one thing he loves to do is also talk. and there’s so much to talk about! 

you share the couch with him, and wonpil instinctively opens up his arms so he can wrap them around your waist

he puts up his legs on the coffee table, and waits for you to say something

“oh? this is allowed now?” he perks up and you turn your head to look at him, tongue darting out in response

“just because i need your scent to be in every corner of this place as much as possible”

“that’s…. a little gross, babe” 

sue you for missing him that much!!! 

but that didn’t really bother you, in fact you lift your own legs up to rest on his. as you guys find a comfortable lying position, finally you ask wonpil how he has been doing

you’ve probably already heard most of his stories through his messages and voice calls beforehand

but nothing beats listening to wonpil talk in person, and to watch him do it with your own very eyes

it’s something special that you want to keep for yourself, you understand that wonpil has to connect to his fans too. he goes on vlives, writes instagram posts directly addressing mydays, and just overall be relatable to them

and… it gets to you a little bit, not gonna lie. there’s so much of him that he gives to others, yet he doesn’t see it that way 

you’re sometimes afraid that he’ll be seen as too fragile and be an easy target to break 

but over the years you’ve known wonpil, you have only seen him get stronger. be more thick skinned, and it’s an admiring feat 

“were you even listening to what i said?” 

“about dowoon overreaching his leader status even after promos? yep, sounds like him” 

wonpil looks utterly surprised, and you return his expression with a more menacing version 

he bursts into laughter right at your face, and if you didn’t enjoy him tightening his grasp around you, you’d shove him off on the floor

“wonpil why do u keep laughing at me!!”

“you just have that face” 

wow what a way to compliment your s/o thanks buddy” 

“hey now,” he lets out the last few chuckles bubbling in his system, releases one arm around you to poke your nose with his finger. “thats the kind of face i love for a partner” 

“well then consider yourself lucky,” you pout, and wonpil’s eyes shine even brighter

“i am.” 

there isn’t a lot more that happens that day, you guys really took “lazying around” in its most literal form

since the couch is a pull out, wonpil helped you with setting it up and placing bedsheets on it while you grab the blanket from your room 

he suggests if he can take a nap for an hour or two which resulted to a cuddling session before you both dozed off

the curtains on the windows to the side of the living room were drawn out, so the late afternoon sun found its way to the inside of your place

it was warm, it hit your cheek when you turned over so you decided to just lay in bed facing wonpil

when you’d be in and out of sleep, you see your boyfriend’s peaceful face just a kiss away from you

and so you do just that… kiss his lips softly as to not disturb him… you take it upon yourself to take in his features slowly while you can and

it’s such a sight to behold

nevermind the dark shadows forming underneath his eyes or the subtle stress lines on his forehead 

you make it a point to do a self care skincare routine with him tonight. he’d enjoy the new volcanic mask you bought to try out

but setting that aside, wonpil is still so beautiful to you. you understand, out of all people, how so many have fallen for him too

hips lips that produce one of the most hauntingly elegant voices you’ve heard, his cheeks that paints a blushing rose when he’s being effortlessly cute, his eyes that glimmer whenever he’s having fun

however right now he has them closed, relaxed, as his chest breaths in and breathes out

you snuggle even closer to him, putting your cheek up against where his heart should lay, and listen to the beat of his heart

you feel your own pounding in the still of the apartment, only a faint bustling hum of reality outside your window

and as the sun shines on wonpil’s face this time, he slowly wakes up and you will yourself not too look

as you feel him shuffle while repositioning his arms that have encircled you all this time

“you awake?” he asks groggily, his sleepy hoarse voice sending you shivers down your spine

you can’t help but smile silly against his clothes

“mmm” is your response

“psst” he whispers in your ear, caressing the sides of your hair in a lulling manner

before you get too comfortable with his affection, you slowly pull yourself away and look at him

and you can never get used to it, to him

“i really, really missed you,” he mouths, almost inaudible, but you know it in your heart 

suffice to say the two of you didn’t get up right away

now that it’s nearing sunset, you ask if he wants to get dinner or cook at home

“what if we bake”

“oh,” that wasn’t really in your mind, but why not? this means you get to spend more time with him, and it’s a great bonding experience. the two of you rarely do this sort of thing. sometimes he’s ask to cook for you, only to phone his mom during the whole process to help out

in the end of that conversation, though, wonpil would approach you if you were in the room or hanging out on the couch, attack you with those puppy dog eyes of him 

“eomma hung up on me. says i should already know how to make stew without her help”

“do you need my help then, wonpil?”

“yes pls “ :c 

so with baking, it’s perfect, because you guys can tag team

you settle on making brownies, craving some chocolate for tonight. you pull up a recipe on your ipad for reference 

“babe where’s the butter,” wonpil asks behind you, rummaging his way through your fridge

“on the side, next to the cheese,” you tell him as you focus on reading through the ingredients

“... where’s the cheese”

“top shelf, wonpil,” you laugh, turning to see him struggling with messing around the many jars and miscellaneous stuff you have in your fridge

“ah, this needs to be more organized baby,” wonpil chastises you, finally finding what he was looking for

“sorry,” you sheepishly grin, but help him with the remaining ingredients

now that you have everything laid out, baking with him is.. a wild ride

you thought the cooperation between you would fall into a field of familiarity, but wonpil’s eagerness to do everything and have you just be sort of his “assistant” is bugging you a bit 

“i can mix this in—”

“no no no, i got it. you’ll see, i got this” 

“but wonpil—”

“no no no,” he repeats, holding onto an egg as he shakes his head at you

“see this? it’ll get cracked with one hand, just you wait” the smug expression on him just looks to adorable not to react to, but you know if you say something he’ll take it in a different manner. you keep your mouth shut and let him do his thing

he takes a second, three, five seconds before finally cracking the egg on the edge of the bowl

and spilling it all over the counter before he got the chance to put it all in

that’s your cue to laugh as wonpil stands there to take in the shame

and walk it off by washing his hands and wiping the mess

you didn’t mean to be so loud about his mistake, but you see wonpil blushing hard with his arms crossed

and you just know you crossed the line

“wonpiriiiii” you whine, trying to take his hands in yours. he won’t budge, not even looking your way 

“it was an accident, you can just crack it with a fork or something” he relents as you sway your arms side to side, an attempt to calm him down and reassure him it’s nothing serious

and you actually love him more 

“yeah but i wanted to impress you”

if only you knew wonpil

“you impress me every day just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, and the cheesiness sends him gagging mockingly 

the two of you would continue clowning each other while preparing the brownie mixture 

taking turns with cracking the eggs, even at one point having a seriously uncalled for juggling competition with two eggs 

that you immediately stop once you realize you don’t have back up eggs if this fails badly

at one point the brownie mixture has finally been combined, and you’re about to ask wonpil for the tray when you see him dip his finger in the bowl and pop it in his mouth

“mmm,” he reacts, before slowly reaching in to take another dip

“DUDE DON’T DOUBLE DIP” too late, he had already contaminated the bowl and was on his way to smear chocolate on your cheek 

you didn’t even have time to speak his death sentence

the deed has been done, the cheek has been smeared as your nose sniff at the chocolatey smell on your face

“oh it’s on, wonpil”

“no it’s not,” he counters, and he’s already laughing with his pointer finger still up in the air, remnants of chocolate still coating around the skin 

you want to approach it the same way he did, but you needed to go big

bringing the whisk filled with a gooey chocolate mess, you lift it up and take a slow, careful step towards wonpil

his laughter died down and is followed by a gulp down his throat

“you won’t dare, baby. i love you, i love you so much—”

“your words mean nothing right now, pil,” you say as sweetly as you can, comically licking some of the mixture that has traveled down the side of your lips. wonpil stared at your tongue, confused at his emotions right now

should he be turned on? threatened? 

he doesn’t get another second to think as you basically paint the whole side of his cheek with chocolate

“i feel better now” you say in between your own fits of laughter, pointing the whisk at wonpil’s sorry face as he just stands there

taking in what just happened

so yeah, y’all don’t get to bake what’s left of the brownie mixture until… after so much of it has ruined your clothes, and the kitchen counter

fortunately, as the poorly spread out brownie mixture bakes in the oven, you and wonpil get to

share a bath together :) 

maybe it was his plan all along because the smirk on his face doesn’t leave at all while you wash each other up

bath foam on his hair, on your nose

soapy kisses, the works

you’d indulge being skin to skin with wonpil this way, soaked in warm water with the smell of mint in the air from your body wash

you couldn’t take too long in the bath though as the brownies baked for a short period of time

“do you really choose brownies over me right now, babe? really?”

“wonpil the apartment will burn down if we don’t take them out of the oven”

…”

“okay point taken”

you finish up in the shower, put on your bathrobe and dry off your hands to hurry and take the tray out the oven

the brownies don’t look half-bad and evidence of the food fight you and wonpil didn’t even seem like it happened (courtesy to him voluntarily wiping everything down as you ran the bath quickly) 

“so is this dinner?” wonpil asks, walking towards you with his matching robe around him

“how about some take out for now?” you suggest sheepishly, hunger calling out to you already

he agrees, and calls your favorite restaurant for some food

the two of you then spend the rest of the night eating rice from take out boxes and dumplings on the pull out sofa bed, never ending conversations of everything in life accompanying the hum of background tv noise 

y’all even forget to eat the brownies as the dumplings and noodles had filled you up more than you thought

and that’s how you basically spent the first day he’s back with you, and the second is just the same

with more cuddling, sharing the shower, and enjoying every moment with him :) (less food fights though, he’s found out your sheer determination about such things… terrifying)