#i am now three for three in writing these two a season finale-timed happy fic

[curator-on-ao3]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine Characters: Raffi Musiker, Seven of Nine Additional Tags: canon-consistent, Getting Back Together, Love, Episode: s03e10 The Last Generation (Star Trek: Picard) Summary: If only there was a way to know for sure that, this time, Seven and Raffi could make it work.

Spoiler: There is.

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag babes! @guiltyasdave • nsfw under the cut! 18+ MDNI!

wip #1 • show me a little bit of spine! feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…'

oops i don't have a sneak peek for this one...sorry chickens.

this is an official part two to "all's fair in love and viscera" cause i can't leave them alone to save my life! i finally decided on the name crimson for this specific reader, and the au as a whole will be called the to the bone universe (that’s also how it’ll be tagged on my acc!!!)

this is jealous!logan getting down and dirty in a bar bathroom after a special someone makes a move on his girl...wink wink nudge nudge. a special guest! a very special guest, cause what better way is there to get a man off their ass and admit they like you than dirty dancing with another man in front of him.

think degradation, biting, pain kink (obvi wtf). there's also some emotional constipation and just a hint of angst. it'll be so fun!

wip #2 • says he needs it bad (oh so very bad) feat. sub!logan howlett (& crimson!)

'it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…'

double oops i don’t have a sneak peek for this one either…pls forgive me!

this is also apart of the to the bone universe but it's more like a non-connecting little blurb than another part...if that makes sense lol i just wanted to write more crimson!

all this is thanks to a lovely anon who sent in a req desperately needing me to speak on sub!logan. it's funny because ofc i'll speak on sub!logan wtf who do you think i am. it's honestly one of the fluffiest, softest things i've ever written...established relationship is really locking my ass down. it's still filthy though don't worry! think riding, think pain kink, think light dustings of a breeding kink. i really don't know how to explain this lmao it's gonna be great trust me!

wip #3 • hunting for sport... feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'there's a big bad wolf somewhere in these woods...'

You scramble backwards, stuck watching the way the brush starts to rustle as he gets closer. You push yourself back to your feet, muscles screaming in protest as you break into a sprint. It's all in vain, you know it is. He's only playing with you, letting you tire yourself out. He’s known where you’ve been the whole time, could smell you the whole time, could hear you the whole time. The two of you have been at this long enough now, his patience is starting to run thin. He's right behind you, if the violent thrashing of the brush over your shoulder getting louder is any indication. The dull sound of claws ripping through the forest floor growing closer and closer before the entire woods suddenly tilts on its axis.

this is also in the to the bone universe! can you tell that i'm really into this au? i physically can't stop writing them...another little fic that's outside the events of parts one and two :))) who would i be if i didn't write a chase fic for this man? that's the real question. more violence heavy than the other fics listed, i got bit by the freak bug and i need to write nasty sexy violence sorry babes.

wip #4 • give it to me like a man! feat. dbf!patrick zweig

'patrick comes to your college graduation party, he gives you the best gift...'

“Yeah, I've been pretty busy since the season started. Lot’s of traveling and shit, you know?” Your dad hums in agreement, nodding his head lazily. “For sure, my schedule has been killer this season.” He brags shamelessly, tone heavy with understanding like he and Patrick are in the same boat. Only your dad’s boat is a three million dollar yacht sailing to cushy televised matches and Nike shoots while Patrick is floating on a dinghy to some barely media covered ITF matches. “It’s a miracle I even had time to fly in for the party, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Your hand slides up the length of his cock in one slow motion, your palm grinding over the tip through the denim. “Yeah, daddy.” You say, voice going light and airy around the edges. Patrick thinks it’s being said to your dad, but when his eyes flick over to you, you’re already looking at him. Eyes half-lidded and shiny as your fingers brush over the metal of his zipper.

the long awaited dbf!patrick lol i know i've been dragging this damn thing out for like three weeks but it's the most "done" fic on this list so maybe maybe MAYBE it'll actually be posted soon...

anyway this is nothing but pure filth. just straight up nasty no plot at all pure sex and fucking hard gross style. lots and lots of dirty talk, degradation, risk play, sort of public sex, a barely there daddy kink...just me being nasty on a google doc for no reason!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing (it's technically thursday but like oh em gee who cares just do it anyway chickens)

[a-supernatural-writer]

Rusted Orange Leaves

Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader

It's been awhile! I am so sorry for being gone so long. Ever since graduating life has been sort of a roller coaster. Working full time along with trying to figure out student loans has been tough.

I wanted to start writing again and get back into The Lost Boys with a bit of a self indulgent fic. For context I recently lost my Nana (grandmother) a couple weeks ago and its been tough to say the very least. She was not only my grandmother but she was another mother to me and in this fic there is a lot of things that are actual things that my Nana and I would do together. Not only that but this is also a fic for anyone who might've lost there own grandmother or even a grandparent in general who you had a very close connection with.

Happy fall to all of you and I am very excited to write for one of my favorite seasons of the year. Get ready for some spooky, Halloween fun and in general fall themed fluff.

Word Count: 1,840

The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon filled David’s noise as he walked into a place that he called a second home. Music that he remembered coming out during the time of the 1910’s and 20’s played at a reasonable volume. Being loud enough for anyone to enjoy but just low enough that people could talk comfortably to each other without raising their voice. 

He smiled softly as he walked deeper into the house and caught sight of you doing your thing around the kitchen. 

You were making your grandmother’s infamous great pumpkin cookies that she made every year around the fall holidays. You smiled a little though that smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you mixed in the chocolate morsels that went in the cookies. 

But now these cookies were to be made by you and other members of your family since your grandmother unfortunately passed away not even a month ago in September, just before the leaves started to turn. 

A part of you was sentimental; making her baked goods and other recipes she taught you ever since you were little. You and your mother were really the only two who she taught her recipes to, leaving it to the both of you to teach the rest of the family. 

You had her cookies on your list along with her pumpkin and apple pie and the traditional fall soups she made from scratch. You also had some of your own recipes you’ve been wanting to make. 

With it being the beginning of October, the leaves turning their beautiful vibrant colors, you turned on the music that your grandparents played and had been going at it in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning. 

You were so engrossed in your activity that you didn’t notice your boyfriend David walk into your home. You had given him a key a while ago, turning your home into his home as well… along with your other three boyfriends; Dwayne, Marko and Paul. 

David had gotten there before any of the boys could. He knew that you were dealing with your grief in your own way. You had been having your days where certain sounds, images and even scents sent you into a crying mess. Hell, even before your grandmother passed away, you got so upset because a candle you bought smelt like her. 

You wanted to bask in her scent forever. Her smell gave you comfort and it scared you that you could never live in it again so you haven’t even lit it since her passing. Afraid to lose it and never smell it again. 

David knew that your grandparents weren’t just that, they were another set of parents; a mother and father to you. David knew how much your grandmother loved you. He and the boys got to spend some time with her and she talked about you so much and always wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. You were her first grandchild and she loved you like you were her own. 

Your grandmother even had them tear up, making them promise her that they would love you and make sure that you would always be happy and live your life. And they promised that. 

You eyed the amount of batter in your mixing bowl, finally noticing David when he walked into the kitchen, “Hey.” You said quietly, not fully trusting your feelings in that moment. You wanted to cry, but at the same time, you were feeling the most comfortable since her passing. 

David smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “Hey. I can see you’ve been busy.” 

You nodded, leaning into him, “I made some apple turnovers for the first time. I think they came out really good. I have another batch in the oven and pumpkin soup is simmering on the stove… think it’s too much?” 

David shook his head, “Nope. I think it’s perfect. Do you need any help?” David didn’t think it was too much. If anything with how much the four of them loved your food, it could never be enough. And who was he to stop you from cooking and baking, this was your way of coping, he didn’t want to stop you from healing. 

You felt warm and fuzzy when he offered to help. Cooking with David was always wonderful. It surprised you just how much he enjoyed doing the activity with you. It warmed your heart even more at the idea that you were gonna teach him your grandmother’s recipes. 

“Yeah, I can teach you her pumpkin pie and I wanted to make her chicken pot pie to go with the soup.” You could help but get excited as you explained what you wanted to make. 

David just smiled, taking off his coat and gloves, grabbing a basic brown waist apron that was hanging on a hook in your kitchen, matching your own. You got one for him after he complained a little by getting flour and food particles on his pants one night. 

He tied it around his waist and grabbed the kitchenware he needed and the ingredients that he needed. He followed your instructions as you did your own thing, chopping whatever vegetables and poultry needed for the chicken pot pie. 

Of course, during the longest part of cooking, prep work, did the others file into your home. 

Paul came in smiling at the scene before him. He never in his life thought he would see David doing such a domestic thing in his life, but then again, he didn’t think that for himself either. “Do we have to kiss the cooks?” Paul teased before giving you a kiss on the lips, tasting pumpkin and chocolate on your tongue as he gave you a stomach fluttering deep kiss that held nothing but love with no lust behind it. Just pure love. 

David rolled his eyes when Paul gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek to tease the bleach blonde. “Smells great in here.” 

Paul honestly loved it when the home smelled like this. Your home for him was a place of comfort. A place for him to unwind and just relax. That’s what made you very similar to your grandmother. Both of you made your homes feel like a home. 

He always thought your grandmother was the definition of a grandmother. A woman with a heart of gold and a pure soul. Always making sure everyone was taken care of. The day she passed was a sad one. 

He was frozen in fear the moment the news settled in for you. He had never seen someone feel so much pain that wasn’t physical. He’d seen you sob your heart out before. But seeing your face turn into anguish and cry out so loudly and so heart broken, truly shook him to his core. 

Since then he’s been treating you much more softly. It wasn’t per your request, but something in him changed and he wanted to show you just how much he cherished you. It’s not like he didn’t already, he just had a much more lustful and hornier way of going about it. 

Marko was next to walk in, carrying a small brown bag in his hand and smiled once he saw you spreading out the cookie batter on the pan, “Are those the pumpkin cookies you were talking about?” 

Marko softly grabbed your chin and placed a short kiss on each of your cheeks before placing one on your lips. 

You giggled as Marko gently nipped at your lip, “Yes. I’m gonna bake them once the rest of the apple turnovers are done… what did you get?” 

Marko smiled as he carefully pulled out two tea cups with saucers attached to them. One design to be like fall colored leaves and the other in the shape of a pumpkin with leaves. You cooed at the teacups, wanting to hold them but didn’t want to dirty them with the batter on your hands. 

“Oh, Marko. They’re so cute.” You cooed softly. Marko felt his chest swell with pride as he got you a gift that made your eyes sparkle. And he knew that tone in your voice. You only talk that way when you truly love something. 

“I’ll go put them with the rest of your collection.” He took the teacups and placed them in a wooden cupboard with glass that you used as a display case for your teacups that you pulled out in rotation to use. You had an addition to mugs and teacups and you had an ever growing collection that weren’t just sitting on a shelf but were used for different times throughout the year. 

Marko grinned to himself. He had been trying his best to make you smile recently. Little gifts and outings have been his way to do just that. Even though you’ve told him multiple times that he didn’t need to buy you any gifts, he wanted to. He loved seeing your eyes shine with happiness and he wanted to treat you. You’ve been going through your emotions and even your thoughts for the most part alone. 

You didn’t want to talk to your family much about how you were feeling, afraid of judgment on some weird level. You were afraid that your family wasn’t going to understand how you felt and the way you were going through your grieving process. 

After placing the teacups in the case, he took one of the apple turnovers you already made and took a bite of it, groaning at how good they were. “These are banging.” He comments. Paul joined in and grabbed one of his own, enjoying the freshly baked dessert. 

Dwayne was the last to walk in. Seeing you doing something that you love and glowing, his heart, if it could, would’ve fluttered. Without a word, Dwayne came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaned down placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re not pushing yourself, are you?”

You shook your head, done with placing the batter on the pans, “No. I’ve been taking breaks here and there throughout the day.” 

Dwayne hummed, squeezing your waist a little, “Good.” 

He didn’t want you overworking yourself too much, even if it was doing something you loved. Sometimes, Dwayne would just make sure that you took time to rest and relax. He knew how hard the past couple weeks have been for you. If the nights of you crying in his arms didn’t tip him off, then you being extra clinging to them lately did. 

You moved to go wash your hands, Dwayne still having a grip on you and moving with you, not wanting to let go yet.

You chuckled, and after you dried off your hands, you reached up and tangled your fingers through his hair. Feeling the utmost content in this moment. 

Out of all the days that have gone by in the past couple weeks, for once you felt at ease.

[babiebom]

When You Fall (i)

A/N: My first full fic on this blog! Thank you to everyone who voted! I will try my hardest to write and upload quickly, though I am not going to promise anything seeing as I have a job interview this Friday that I'm writing this(already passed by the time this is uploaded) and if I get it I'll be working more often. Though again thank you for voting and I hope you enjoy! Also a bit of a warning, some things from the game are obviously changed to make sense irl, like instead of there just being seasons there are actual months!(pictures not mine.)

Next Masterlist

TW: death, self harm in the form of overworking, cursing, depression, negative thoughts, funerals. Etc just sad

Genres: angst, potential happy ending, romance, some fluff. Multichapter Fic

WC: 4k

You hear your name being called, the voice is quiet under the ringing of your ears.

"Y/N!"

You attempt to force your eyes to adjust on the person, head and neck snapping quickly to face towards them. "Huh"?

"I asked if you were going to be alright getting to the graveyard alone…?"

You nod, swallowing even though your mouth and throat were dry. The funeral home was almost empty now; only you, your aunt and uncle, and a few friends that knew both of your parents and/or grandfather. Standing up straighter, you try to fix your face subtly, trying to act as if you weren't out of it for the entire funeral. "Yeah…yeah, I'll be fine. I promise." You clear your throat and offer her a smile.

She hesitates, lips trembling before she slowly gives you a hug. "Your uncle and I are here for you".

"I know".

As the two leave, as well as the rest of the stragglers, it's only you left with the bodies of your parents and grandfather. A sour laugh leaves your lips, tears kissing the corners of your eyes as you drag your feet closer to their caskets. To keep from crying you clench your jaw and curl your lips inward, slowly becoming overwhelmed with the idea of never seeing any of these three people again. If you would've known this was going to happen, you would've visited more, called more. If you would've known…well it doesn't matter anymore because you didn't know, and now you can't do any of those things. 

Slowly and one by one you press a kiss to each of their foreheads, letting your own head rest on top of theirs for just a moment before moving on, hoping the warmth from you would cure the cold coming from them. You stayed there for so long the funeral director had to escort you out, reminding you that they needed to be buried. 

Slowly you got into your car, remembering that everyone was probably on their way or already waiting for you and the bodies to show up. They were all going to be buried in Pelican Town, the same place your father had grown up, the same place you spent your summers during your childhood. 

Entering Pelican Town, nothing had changed since your childhood, and that made everything worse. Things hadn't changed for the town, and yet it wasn't the same for you. Everything has changed for you. The only difference was a couple new headstones, the graveyard now housing your mother, father, and grandfather; though you had noticed the additions of some that weren't there when you had last been here. The mayor was standing next to the open graves, making your heart clench at the finality of it all; the second they were filled with dirt would mark the last time you ever got to see their faces. 

Instead of standing with the rest of the crowd, you stand off to the side, crying silently as you watch the mayor pray over their bodies before they get lowered into the ground. You have to fight yourself to keep from yelling out, knowing that making a scene, making this whole process longer would affect everyone around you. It’s the middle of winter after all, everyone probably wanted to hurry and get back to their regular lives. Swallowing harshley, you only step forward when it's time for all of the guests to throw some dirt on top of the caskets. 

“I love you,” you whisper into the air, clenching your eyes closed and tossing the dirt in. A soft thump is all you get in response, the dirt scattering over the caskets. Your mother and father are sharing a grave, and your grandfather was being buried with your grandmother, the two finally being reunited after a decade and some change of being apart. 

You move backwards again, allowing the others who had arrived to say their final goodbyes. Avoiding looking at what was happening, you focused on the scenery instead. Pelican Town had always been nice, and being covered by snow it was no different. Everything had sort of a Christmas-y vibe to it, but that only made you feel worse. Letting your eyes continue to roam, you spot some of the towns-people walking around, obviously trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. They were walking far too slow to actually be trying to get somewhere, or maybe the calmness of a small town allowed them to take it easy even when they had errands to run. Your eyes connect with a woman with orange hair, her eyes growing wide the second yours stopped on her. She hurried away as soon as she realized she had been caught watching, moving from the large tree that she was under to presumably hide somewhere else. You scoff and turn your head to watch someone else, not really offended but somewhat annoyed that the public can watch as your normal life is ripped away from you. Bitterly, you wondered when the last time this town had held a funeral, or had even had someone die. 

Everything looked peaceful, your presence disrupting the environment and if that woman with the orange hair was anything to go by, this funeral was something that shook the small town that probably knew your grandfather better than you did. You wonder why none of them showed up to the funeral or to this burial. Your thoughts are disrupted by everyone bustling around you, hands on your shoulders words spoken to you, you figure out that the burial is finished by the people moving around you back towards the way you came.

The second you fully realize that the burial had ended, you race out towards your car, not wanting to stop and talk to anyone, not wanting to cry on someone’s shoulders. You decide then that the best course of action would be to throw yourself into your work. So, without another glance back, you drive away from Pelican Town, hoping you would never have to return to the place again.

Scrunching up your nose and frowning, you slam the drawer to your desk harder than you need to, ignoring the sound of the contents inside spilling and moving around. The sound of typing overwhelms your senses, and unlike the persona you’ve put on for the past couple of months, you get up and stalk towards the bathrooms. As you pass the other cubicles, the oncoming anxiety attack immediately takes over your being. 

You push open the bathroom door, wheezing and trying to suck in as much breath as you can. Yet it still feels like you’re drowning, as if every breath you suck in is instead water, and it’s impossible for you to come up to the surface. You fall onto the sink, leaning over it and heaving. Your legs threatened to give out, not wanting to hold you up any longer. Giving in, you allow yourself to sink to the dirty bathroom floor, dragging yourself in between the sinks and the wall, the gross overhead light giving you a headache. 

Your body shakes, still struggling to breathe. As you close your eyes, flashes of the funeral and the last time you saw each of them alive consume you. The second your ears start to ring, you realize that you’re already too far gone, and any of your attempts to self soothe were now made in vain because you couldn’t calm down. You needed help, but at the same time that was the last thing that you wanted. You can feel yourself shake, violently, and your head falls back and forth as you shake, and in the madness you realize that someone was shaking you, it wasn’t you yourself. “Please!” you heard someone plead, yet they sounded too far away from you. 

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out of it, you want them to go away, and to leave you spiraling here on the ground, and in the back of your cloudy mind you hope that you still get paid for having this breakdown during work hours. Joja Co. wouldn’t take away your wages for this, right? You’re shaken again, this time rougher and your eyes begin to focus on someone kneeling in front of you. The ugliness that was Joja blue assaulting your eyes. You groan, and as you feel yourself begin to surface, realize that you had been screaming. Your throat now raw and hoarse as you begin to calm. 

The woman in front of you is someone you recognize, though you couldn’t recall her name. You only knew her as your supervisor that you rarely actually saw in the office, and behind her were two coworkers looking absolutely frightened and worried for you. Swallowing, you shake your head and haul yourself off of the ground, muttering a ‘sorry’ and pushing your way out of the bathroom. It was painful, the walk back to your cubicle, everyone was simultaneously watching you, but still not really looking at you. As if they wanted to pretend that your breakdown didn’t happen, and you are all too aware of how insane you probably looked, coming out of the bathroom with puffy red eyes, and messed up hair. 

It wasn’t uncommon for someone to have a breakdown at work, the expectations of your superiors and the company itself were always too much for some people to handle, yet you realized that you probably looked different than them, having run all the way to the bathroom, and not out the doors to the elevators. After a breakdown, the person always quits, yet here you are, sitting silently in your cubicle, brushing your hair out of your face as if everything was normal. 

Again you open the drawer and look at the letter that had arrived on your desk weeks ago.

Dear, Y/N

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

The same thing happened to me, long ago.

I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life…real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place…my pride and joy: New Hope Farm. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honor the family name, my grandchild.

Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.

P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?

Taking in a breath, you laugh quietly to yourself. Your face still wet from your tears. It was ridiculous, hilarious even, that the very place you wanted to return to ends up the very place you flee in order to get back to yourself. 

You can hear clacks of shoes nearing you, coming from the direction of the same bathroom you just fled from. The woman stops in front of the opening to your cubicle. Staring down at you in your seat with aggravated eyes. The lack of concern annoys you to your very core, and with the least amount of emotion you can muster, you stare back up at her, the letter wrinkled in your hand.

"Yes?"

"That little breakdown you had there was very disruptive," she shifts her weight, "now you're one of your best workers, so we'll give you another chance, but next time something this unprofessional happens we'll have to let you go."

"Right," you swallow harshly, "about that, I need to take time off."

"Time off? Why do you need to take time off?" She asks loudly. You can see the people across from you look over with wide eyes. Vacations were never accepted, and were more likely to be taken as an insult. 

"Well, half of my family has just died...and I don't think I have a good enough mental state to-"

"We gave you time off already, we let you go to the funeral and have an extended weekend. How much more time do you need?" 

You scoff in disbelief, the woman staring at you with all seriousness of a person who has just been told the worst joke in the world. Did she not just witness the breakdown you just had? You sit back roughly in your chair, running a hand through your hair. Your patience started to run thin with the woman, and so in a huff you slam down the letter rather roughly before looking back up at her.

"Can I take a vacation or not?"

She gasps before angling her body back, now glaring daggers at you. "I am the boss, you do what I say. You've already taken time off, so you don't need any more. I'm really very disappointed in you-"

"But-"

"-and I don't think you realize just how lucky you are to be working for Joja Corporation. There's no other job as liberating and rewarding than working for and growing the Joja family."

You make a noise of indignation, completely taken aback with how she had decided to handle this situation, especially after seeing you in the worst state you've ever been in. "You know what?" You slam your hand on your desk, letting out a huff of air through your nose, now staring at the place your hand had settled. "I quit!"

You turn to watch her face as your words sink in. She splutters and takes in breaths as she struggles to come up with something to say as a retort. Laughing loudly in her face, you stand and push past her, going straight towards the supply closet, where you know there are extra boxes. Picking up the smallest that could fit all of your things, you completely ignore your now ex-supervisors desperate pleas. "You have to put in a 2 week notice!"

"Nah, no I don't." You shake your head, now filling the box with all of your things. You'd rather die than leave any of your cute cubicle things behind for them to throw away. Smirking, you carefully place the last plant you had on top of the other knick knacks you had, looking over to the angry woman with the best shit eating grin you could muster.

"I would say it was a pleasure to work with you, but that would be a lie."

The time taken to get back to Pelican Town was doubled due to you selling your car and opting to take the bus instead, and in that time you started to rethink your plan of starting anew without any backup plan. Everyone else that was riding with you had gotten off long ago, and you were left with those who were just along for the ride, having nothing else to do but stay until they were kicked off. 

You were grateful for the emptiness though, no one spoke a word on the way there; they simply allowed you to exist among them, thinking your thoughts without interruption. 

You grunt in pain as you're launched out of your seat, suitcases toppling over loudly. Embarrassed, you scramble to get up, hoping no one was secretly laughing at you because it would honestly cause another breakdown. The bus driver shouted out your arrival, staring at you specifically through the rear view mirror. Sniffing, you grab your suitcases and hurry off of the bus, squinting from the change of lighting.

"Hello! You must be Y/N" an orange haired woman standing waiting at the bus stop, friendly looking and sweaty. "I'm Robin, the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He's there now, tidying things up for your arrival."

You stare at her before taking her hand in a firm shake. She's pretty, and young looking but from the look at her hands she had to be older than you think. Her grip takes you off guard only slightly, rough calluses coming in contact with your own soft skin. You nod and grab your things again, wanting to get out from under the sun. There was a cool breeze cooling your skin, but just having been on a musty bus for the past couple of hours made you feel grosser than you normally would've. 

 "The farm's right over here, if you'll follow me" 

You want to tell her that you already know the way, that you've been here multiple times in your childhood, but you stay quiet not wanting to bring up memories that will just hurt you. You think staying silent is an even better idea when she takes two of your suitcases and heads down the road. 

Walking in silence is awkward for the first minute, and so you begin a conversation that you already regret happening the moment the first syllable leaves your mouth. "So," you swallow thickly, "how long have you been waiting out here?" 

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. "Not long, maybe 15 minutes? First day of Spring is always brutal with the weather change."

You nod and keep walking, wanting to ask her more questions, yet you know that it would only serve to make everything more awkward. "Do you want something to drink? I have like a spare Gatorade if you're thirsty."

She makes a noise of acceptance and takes the drink from you, gulping it down quickly. The walk takes about 5 more minutes before you make it to a broken down fence.

"This is New Hope Farm."

You gasp loudly, a choked noise forcing its way out of your throat at the look of it. Grass overgrown, trees everywhere, boulders. It looked as if the place had been abandoned for years, and maybe it has been. Your grandfather must've been too old to continue the last couple of years, having been bedridden the months before his passing.  The air smells fresh, though, fresher than you've ever smelled it before, at least since you've grown up. A sense of calm settles over your being, just over the hurt and anxiety. At least you're okay for now. 

"What's the matter? Sure it's a bit overgrown, but there's some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication you'll have it cleaned up in no time." 

You smile at her as you open the gate for you both, entering the messy fields. It's another minute and a half before you actually make it to the farmhouse, "and here we are, your new home". 

You raise your eyebrows at the look of your grandfather's old cottage, it being slightly run down since you had seen it last. Your heart clenched at the sight, realizing that everything did in fact get old without you, or maybe alongside you. Taking in a deep breath, you jump as the door to the house opens loudly. A man, shortish and white haired leaves out of it. He looks slightly familiar, but obviously older. 

"Ah, the new farmer! Welcome I'm Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town." You wait for him to descend the steps, stopping in front of you. You faintly remember him, with less whites in his head and a smaller mustache. His old hat on top of his head is the same from when you were little. You shake his hand, reminding him that you had met him before. 

"Ah, my apologies!"

You shake your head with a small smile, slowly getting tired of pleasantries. "It's fine I was like…maybe 9 the last time I saw you."

The conversation staggers a bit before Lewis sucks in a breath.

"You know, everyone's been asking about you. It's not every day that someone new moves in. It's quite a big deal!" He looks around, a flicker of sadness in his eyes causing you to wonder how close he and your grandfather were. 

"So...you're moving into your grandfather's old cottage. It's a good house…very 'rustic'." You raise an eyebrow at his words, it was obvious that the house had seen better days.

"Rustic? That's one way to put it. 'Crusty' might be a little more apt though." Robin remarks, looking around.

"Rude!" Lewis gasps, whirling around to stare at Robin in shock. You guess it's the fastest he's moved in a while because his hands grasp at his knees for a split second.

The woman lets out a laugh, slapping a hand over her lips in amusement. You let out a snort, silently agreeing with her.

"Don't listen to her, Y/N. She's just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades." Lewis says, sending the woman a glare. Robin, in turn, gasps in shock, her eyes darting between you two before frowning and huffing. Maybe she was trying to get you to buy an upgrade. 

"Anyway…you must be tired from the long journey. You should get some rest. Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that." You nodded to him, but refused in your mind, not wanting to go parading around town introducing yourself to the villagers like some happy-go-lucky extroverted tv character. Lewis begins to leave, but stops a couple feet, maybe even a yard away. He has to yell in order to speak to you, and you sort of understand when you would rather not have to walk all the way back just to leave again. 

"Oh I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell just place it in this box here. I'll come by during the night to collect it. Well…good luck!" His voice is strained, when he shouts. You smile and wave, saying a goodbye to Robin as she walks after him. Turning to the cottage, you feel a sense of overwhelming sadness, your chest growing tight. You know that grieving is a process, and that healing isn’t a linear path, but a thought pops into your mind that this was a bad idea. How are you meant to process, heal, and move on when you’re surrounded by things that make you want to tear your hair out? Sighing, you head inside, setting your things down and snatching an axe off of the wall. 

You think to yourself that the healing can come later, preferably after you demolish the trees taking over the land, at least you’ll be able to see far enough to farm. Stepping back out into the sun, you get to work swinging the axe over your head as well as you can. The thump of the axe embedding itself into the tree sends vibrations up into your bones, yet the pain and unfamiliarity of the feeling makes you feel lighter than you had in weeks. Maybe you just had anger issues. But, chasing that feeling you swing again, and again, and again until both the tree and it’s stump has been reduced to logs that you could pick up. 

You leave the logs on the ground and move on to the next tree, and then the next, and you keep going until you can feel the sweat drip down your back, pooling around the edge of your jeans and your hips. Your breaths come in short, you huffing as you try to bring the axe overhead once more. Your chest is tight, and your head feels as if it’s not screwed all the way on. ‘One more time.’ You think to yourself, bringing the axe upwards. You can tell that the tree was close to being fully chopped down, and so with the last of your energy, you force yourself to at least complete it. Telling yourself that it was more about clearing everything quickly, you knew deep down that you just wanted to feel something other than sorrow. Your arms shake as the tool almost slips out of your grasp above your head. Arms burning, you force them forwards as you swing down, you hear the thump of the axe in the wood, and you fall over ears ringing, your vision fading to black.

[jamesirius]

“All he had to do was ask you out, not my fault he was too stupid to get around to it. This—” He gestured around at the Burrow, encompassing the entirety of the ridiculous fake dating scheme. “—Was a last ditch effort. If it hadn’t worked, we were about to give up.” “We?” “Me and Hermione.” Ron caught sight of the look on her face and smirked at her. “Oh, come on, you thought I came up with that on my own?” “It was an absolutely mental idea, so, yeah, I did think that.”

Keep Reading

Ginny is not totally looking forward to a Christmas spent at home with all her relatives asking her why she's the only unmarried Weasley child. Ron suggests she bring Harry as her fake boyfriend. There are a million ways this could go wrong.

Featuring happily married Ron and Hermione, lots of Weasley babies, the family curse to only have boys, Cedrella Black meddling in her granddaughter's love life, and endless amounts of sugar, mistletoe, and other Christmas shenanigans.

Well, happy new year! Fruitcake has been such a joy to write - I was working on it viciously all through Christmas because I really wanted to finish it in the holiday season. Everyone's responses have been so wonderful to hear, I am truly thrilled people read it and enjoyed it. This last chapter was really just an extra to show more of their life together so here are a few notes and future endgame thoughts in case anyone is interested:

Harry is not subtle. Honestly it's shocking that it took Hermione such a long time relatively to catch on to him in HBP. In this one, since Ron and Hermione are thirty, and have been married for years, and generally no longer have the emotional ranges of teaspoons, they caught on much faster.

Yes, Ron and Hermione's baby is a girl. Everyone except Harry, Ginny, and Cedrella is shocked by this.

Harry and Ginny also go on to have three daughters, which neatly parallels Cedrella and her sisters (although with less tragic endings): Aurora Lily, Felicity Molly, and Cedrella Ginevra. Aurora has the green eyes, Felicity has brown, and Cedrella inherited the Black family grey. Life has a way of working out.

All the other Weasleys did end up having more kids, all girls, once the curse was broken: Bill and Fleur had two more (I think this is less planned and more because they're one of those couples who is literally always having sex. By the way, please notice that Harry and Ginny are being disgusting on the porch swing exactly the way Ginny was making fun of Bill and Fleur for doing a few chapters ago.); Charlie and Steffan adopted a girl named Robin (Wren wanted a brother but he adapts quickly); Fred and Angelina have two girls; George and Cassie have one. And finally, way after everyone else, because Penelope did in fact swear she was done after two, Percy has a tail-ender little girl.

I like to think Ginny did eventually become an Animagus and join the Marauders on full moon nights - something the Marauder kids would bring their eventual spouses into once actually married (as obviously, Remus' secret isn't technically theirs to share).

Did you catch the initial canon divergence mentioned in this chapter? And now you know why Remus' secret has never gotten out.

Yes, Harry and Ginny did get engaged in 2010 so it might be a little quick but we do have to consider that Harry's been in love with her for two years and neither of them like wasting time. I do think they went traditional with it (marriage, then babies, probably when Ginny stepped back from playing professionally to coach) just because Cedrella would have had a fit if they didn't break the curse properly. And they do love her.

Is the curse ACTUALLY real? You know, it was very unclear...

Thank you again to everyone who read the fic, or these notes, or both! I hope Fruitcake provided a bit of joy in the holiday season for you; it certainly did for me!

[grapenehifics]

Countdown to Chapter One!

My fellow Obikins: I am very, VERY excited to share my next fic with you. Some of you may remember a fic of mine called An Uncivil War, the first chapter of which I posted on AO3 almost exactly a year ago, in May of 2023, and wrapped up that July. At the time, I mentioned to a number of people in the comments that I was already partway through the sequel (An Uncivil War is listed as part one of a three-part series, Can't Stop the Suns), and that I hoped to have Part II ready to go by end of 2023.

Well, that obviously didn't happen. I started looking at February 2024. That didn't happen either. I pushed it to April. April has come and gone. May, though! May I am going to make happen! May 27th, 2024, to be exact. Chapter one of Pick Up the Pieces, a.k.a. part 2 of Can't Stop the Suns, a.k.a. the sequel to An Uncivil War, a.k.a. the thing I have been writing on and off for more than three years now, is going up on AO3. (Excerpt and way more ramblings below the cut.)

A) I wanted to make this announcement in advance because I'm just really excited to share this fic. Parts of it I've posted on Tumblr as WIP Wednesdays, but most of it I've tried to keep under wraps until it's ready and, frankly, I really want to talk about it!

B) @palfriendpatine66 specifically asked for a heads-up before I started posting, but I figured I'd share publicly in case anyone else has the same desire to read (or re-read) part one before starting part two. May 27th is the day!

I do want to say, though - prior knowledge of An Uncivil War is NOT required to understand or enjoy this fic. If you haven't read An Uncivil War, I would really love it if you did! I'm enormously proud of it and love, love, love talking about it. But I also don't want anyone to not give Pick Up the Pieces a try, assuming they were otherwise interested, because they're worried they won't understand what's going on. If you want to jump in, make sure you read the tags and the summary, and by the time you get to chapter three you should have a pretty good grounding in what happened previously. Obviously there are some little details here and there you'll miss but for the most part you should be okay. I did try to make it as accessible as possible.

C) Thirdly - mostly as a reward for reading this far - I thought it would be fun, over the next three Wednesdays, to give a sneak peek of one of the later chapters, because I've really missed doing regular WIP Wednesdays for this fic (for the aforementioned secrecy reasons).

The main part of the fic is set during what would have been the final year of the Clone Wars, except we take a departure from canon during the season 5 episode The Wrong Jedi and diverge off-course from there. Mixed in with that, though, are flashback chapters, covering some portion of Anakin's years as Obi-Wan's Padawan, which have just been a blast to write. They go in roughly chronological order, and this one in particular is set when Anakin is 17. I'll post a little bit today, the next part a week from today, the final section the week after that, and then you'll get the rest of it when chapter ten goes up in the actual fic :)

Chapter Ten preview starts below:

“Uh…” Anakin looked down at his cards and bit his lip. “Hit me?” he asked tentatively. The three other players around the table blinked slowly back at him. He reached out and flipped the top card of the table deck over, letting the rest of the players see it. “Damnit,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Tough luck, boy,” boomed the Besalisk on Anakin’s right, the one he was most worried about getting a peek at his cards. “That makes twenty-two.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Anakin snapped, frustrated. He tossed his cards face-down in front of him. “Don’t remind me.”

Anakin was losing, and quite badly at that. He really needed to slow down and stop the bleeding or Obi-Wan was going to catch him not only gambling, but totally out of credits, too, and he would not be happy about it.

“I’m going to take a break,” Anakin said suddenly, standing up so quickly his chair squeaked. “I’ll sit out this round. Be right back.” He scooped the (very meager) pile of credits he had left to his name into his hand and pocketed them before walking away. What he really wanted to do was take a quick minute to check the chronometer strapped to his wrist without any of them seeing him do it, but needing to take a walk was as good an excuse as any.

He didn’t leave the Castle (Takodana was a little too humid for Anakin’s liking), just took a slow lap around the edges of it, checking out the other gambling tables, the billiards games, the tourists, the regulars, the spacers, the spice runners, the spice addicts, the smugglers. The people who, if he hadn’t become a Jedi, probably would have been his friends and his enemies, his rivals, his contemporaries. His lovers, maybe.

The lower levels of Takodana Castle had once been an ancient Jedi temple, a fact Obi-Wan had mentioned rather a few more times than strictly necessary on their trip over from Coruscant. It had been built on the site of an even more ancient battleground, where Jedi and Sith had fought one another centuries – maybe a millennia – ago. The Jedi had won, that time, and built the original Takodana Temple as a kind of memorial. Anakin let the tips of his fingers trail over the wet, warm stone walls as he walked, feeling to see if he could catch any whispers of the old voices. Old hurts, old betrayals, old war wounds…

He had started doing this thing, about a year or so back. He had discovered, largely by accident (not that Jedi were supposed to believe in accidents, just The Will of the Force, and all that), that he could, rather paradoxically, up the ante on his meditation skills by upping the ante on his distractions. He’d been filling in for Obi-Wan, who was supposed to have been taking a turn sitting in with a group of the youngest Younglings but had been called away at the last minute (or so he had said, at least; Anakin still wasn’t totally sure he believed him). Anakin had tried to keep to the Younglings’ schedule, which included a quarter of an hour of daily mandated meditation time. Younglings not being particularly good at meditation (they were worse at it than Anakin was, which was really saying something), they’d lasted only about half that time before starting to get fidgety. It had started small – a few coughs here and there, a couple of giggles, wiggling on their mats – and then had progressed from there to full-blown chaos. Anakin was supposed to be setting an example, though, and was determined to sit still, keep his eyes closed, and ignore everything that wasn’t an outright cry for medical attention until the allotted time was up.

What he had found, though, was that it was actually one of his better meditation sessions. The noisier the room got, the more relaxed Anakin got. He’d eventually opened his eyes to find one Youngling on his lap, another chewing on his Padawan braid, and a third hanging from the ceiling rafters, but had felt…calm and at peace and a little floaty, but also grounded, connected to the Force, the air, even the children. He’d asked Obi-Wan about it later that night over dinner. Obi-Wan had suggested they meditate over it, which made Anakin roll his eyes because he already had meditated today, that was the whole thing he wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about, and how much meditation did a person need every day, really? But after they ate he’d dutifully sat down across from Obi-Wan and closed his eyes anyway. Obi-Wan had reached out and taken Anakin’s hands in his, which almost made up for the double meditation session. (Almost.)

And then, just as Anakin was starting to settle into something resembling regulating his breathing, something hard and poky had slammed into the side of his head.

“Ow!” he’d said, reflexively, and opened his eyes. Obi-Wan’s datapad was lying on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan himself was still sitting serenely, holding Anakin’s hands.

“What the kriff did you do that for?” Anakin demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan had said, without opening his eyes, “I thought you said you liked having distractions while you meditated.”

“Not painful ones!” Anakin shot back.

“Apologies.” The holopad, from the floor, flicked on and started replaying whatever the last thing either of them had watched on it, which happened to be a nature documentary about tee-muss. “Is that better?”

Anakin grumbled about it, but he had, sort of, asked for this, and admitting defeat now would be both embarrassing and would necessitate him letting go of Obi-Wan’s hands, so he closed his eyes and tried again.

Of course, the first thing he had to do was release the pain in his head into the Force, but once he’d done that, he found that, once again, sifting through his distractions was easier when he actually had distractions to sift through. He let the migratory patterns of wild tee-muss go, and felt Obi-Wan squeeze his hands. “Good, Anakin,” he murmured softly, so quietly Anakin almost couldn’t hear him over the documentary narrator. “That’s very good.” (Anakin had replayed the moment in his head, putting that voice of Obi-Wan’s into different and much more…naked contexts, so many times since then that he could get hard just thinking about it, now.)

So Anakin had started to experiment, on and off. He turned the holoprojector on in their rooms while he was meditating. He sat in the corner of the refectory and meditated during mealtimes. Once, he tried meditating during galactic history class, but his teacher had ratted him out to Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan had told him not to do that anymore. And, now, he wanted to see if he could do it while inside Takodana Castle on a bustling summer afternoon.

To be continued next Wednesday!

[sailormew4]

Fanfic Writer Interview

Thankyouuu to @earthtodora for the tag!!

Tagging: @m34gs and @vulpixen

wow this one is a bit long oops.

How many works do you have on ao3?

I have 28 works currently on ao3!

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Outside In: One, if not the first BNHA fic I uploaded. I'm honestly surprised this one is the one that made start to get known in the BNHA fic atmosphere. The plot is based on that one Teen Titans episode where Beast Boy and Cyborb go into Raven's mind. This time, Bakugo, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Iida go into Midoriya's mind. This is BakuDeku Fic. Fun Fact: This is actually the first time I did something like this, in fact I did something similar for the Voltron fandom right here on Tumblr. Status: Complete

Add Water: THIS IS MY SECOND MOST KUDOS FIC? So context: This is an H2O: Just Add Water x Voltron crossover fic. The premise is Lance is the grandson of Cleo and Lewis from the original H2O series. It's still canon compliant so he's in space trying to hide his mermaid secret from everyone. Gosh, this right season three I wrote this, I haven't touched this fic since 2018 (Voltron Depression am I right?). I might actually go back to my VLD fics. This one does contain Klance. Status: Ongoing.

Mariposa: A MIRACULOUS FIC? DAMN I DIDN'T TOUCH THIS SINCE 2019! So, typical Marinette gets akumatized cause GOD DAMN IT I STILL NEED THIS! I want her to reach her villain era lowkey and give Chat Noir the spotlight he STILL deserves. Status: Ongoing

Friendship in Flames and Curses - OHOHO! Now this one I hoped would be in top five. This is simply a crossover between Blue Exorcist and Jujutsu Kaisen. Rin gets taken by Sorcerers by mistakenly being seen as Curse User. Him and Itadori becomes BESTIES! The comments in this became so crazy, I recently finished this not too long ago on 11/18/24. No focused romantic relationships until the sequel (currently in the works). But I love this fic SO MUCH. Status: Complete

Forget About Love: - Oh my gosh, I'm exposing my Klance Days. This is probably one of the few Klance fics I finished. The premise is after Keith leaves for the Blade of Marmora, Lance is hurt and misses him to the point he takes a potion to make him forget the hurt which makes him forget Keith and his love for him - which fundamentally changes for the worse. Fun Fact: The title comes from an Aladdin 2 song, but the premise is inspired by an episode from the show of Once Upon a Time. Status: Complete.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I LOVE responding to comments. I used to reply every chance I got to them, but took only replying after I update the fic. I got tired of constantly getting comments to update. But, I always screenshot my favorite comments.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angriest ending?

... define angry ending? Cause I can tell you which fic I wrote with the most anger? I always strive to have happy endings, maybe bittersweet. But the only one I can confidently say I wrote in anger was my fix-it fic for Voltron Season 8 End to a Beginning. That shit I wrote almost 22k words from spite from the finale. I still plan to update it cause I was really excited but uh chapter two is still kicking my ass.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, almost all of them have a happy ending. I would say the most happy would be either JJK x Blue Exorcist fic cause its a happy note and had a pretty humorous ending, but there is also my UsaMamo fic Homey Touches where Mamoru realizes Usagi makes his home.

Do you write crossovers?

HA! Did you read my top five? Two of them ARE crossover fics, well they're more AU adjacent kinda. You'll see what I mean. Some others ones I've written are

Legacy of the Moon: A Sailor Moon X BNHA fic. After the death of Sailor Moon, another thousand years passed and Luna finds Bakugo and says he's Sailor Moon, but he refuses to believe it. A BakuDeku focused fic as well. It's still ongoing and the latest chapter is currently being written

An Alien Device: A BNHA x Ben 10 fic. In the summer before the last year of middle school Midoriya is forced to go on a vacation with Bakugo and his Dad. On the first night, an alien device crashed landed to reveal the Omnitrix and stuck itself upon Izuku's wrist. This is also BakuDeku.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

... have I? This is a genuine thing. I'm mostly bad with social cues, so I could never tell if something was out of hate or confusion. I probably did, but just don't remember it or simply ignored it.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I.... do not. It's mostly because smut itself to me is kinda just... there. Maybe its the demisexual in me, but when I read fics that have smut. I do kinda just... skim it over. Like I'll read it for the genuine emotion but not the actual well physical stuff.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I did, I do not know. I do know that I have a now long abandoned fanfiction.net account (I should move some of my How to Train Your Dragon fics I had there to Ao3). But if I did, I don't know about it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

... I have been offered. One of my fics was offered, but I had to turn it down cause it wasn't going to be published on Ao3 but a different sight. I just didn't feel comfortable with the idea of having it out there without me knowing what's going on.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, why with @vulpixen with a Gravity Falls fic. I was in high school, so I couldn't write as much as I wanted and since I was using her OCs we decided to just co-write together. She did most of the heavy lifting while I did most of editing and stuff. I'm always open to now co-write more often now, in fact I did have a fic being written with Codi ( @collisiondiscourse ) for a BNHA fic. But they're busy with Uni. They do draw me the most amazing cover art for some of my fics tho!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... Soooo this is kinda a loaded question. See, I don't have a singular OTP that dominates. I have a Mount Rushmore where I will eat any content of them like its the most delicious bowl of curry ever and it influences all future ships. Those being UsaMamo aka Usagi Tsukino/Sailor Moon and Mamoru Chiba/Tuxedo Mask. This was the start and I will always think of them when comparing any current ships I have. Next would be of course BakuDeku aka Bakugo Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku from BNHA. I don't think I need to explain this one. This sucker got me by the neck when Kacchan got kidnapped and I ain't ever leaving. Next is Klance aka Keith and Lance from Voltron Legendary Defender. By god, if you see me now and think "Wow she's super into BakuDeku"... you have not seen me at my most FERAL and potentially insane. In fact, I did not realize how much this ship STILL holds me its claws until the recent news of it being taken off of Netflix. And the final one *drumroll* is MadoHomu aka Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi from Madoka Magica. Now this ship, while I don't talk about as often as I like is because their story is still going and I want to see how it ends. Doomed Yuri at its finest.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Any fic, I haven't updated before 2023. I love all my fics to bits but sometimes, hyperfixations come and go. I do plan eventually especially with my resurgence of Klance love, but it might be a while.

What are your writing strengths?

I think its dialogue. I often say my own dialogue aloud when writing to get the tone right. Plus, I'm very much a word person. So I think is my best.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably a lot. I know I'm my own worse critic, so I'm harsh. One that I try is conveying words through actions or setting the scene essentially. I can't quite get the tension right in my opinion, but maybe that's because I know how it ends. I haven't really asked what it could be from others.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

So I watch anime and read manga. So my thought process is write how the character would think, so for example in my anime fics, I use honorifics if the character does in speak, but in thought its just the name. When there's multiple language at play like say my Voltron fics where I make Lance use Spanish, I just use the Spanish and give translations at the bottom.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

So damn, can I say any of the ships I have yet to write for or ones that have like "dead" fandoms. Take Tokyo Mew Mew for example, I want to write an IchiSaya (Ichigo Momomiya x Masaya Aoyama) fic so bad because back in my middle school days THAT was the rare pair despite being canon.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh definitely Legacy of the Moon and Friendship in Flames and Curses. I love Sailor Moon and BakuDeku so much and that one is still so fun to write. As for my JJK x Blue Exorcist Fic, that one is simply fun to just write and have fun with no boundaries, like its purely self indulgent. You can probably tell how much I enjoy a fic by how fast I update.

[dk-wren]

Buddy Daddies & “Silent Night”

Happy holidays and Merry Christmas!

I’ve been busy working on other projects, so no time to write a fic for Christmas. However, I still wanted to do something, and thinking about the work I do outside of here, this is what I came up with. So, to celebrate the season, and the anniversary of Miri falling into the lives of Kazuki and Rei, I present a brief history of “Silent Night” and its relevance/connections to Buddy Daddies!

Brief History:

"Silent Night" was first performed in 1818 at the St. Nicholas Church in Oberndorf bei Salzburg, Austria. The lyrics were written by Father Joseph Mohr, which were originally adapted from a poem he had written two years previously, while the melody was composed by Franz Gruber. The song was originally written in German for two voices and an accompanying guitar, though an organ accompaniment was composed several years later (presumably along with an arrangement for a choir since it is traditionally performed in Austria during Christmas Eve Mass).

In Buddy Daddies, Miri is heard singing the first of six verses, which is probably the most well-known verse. When translated to English (first in 1858), and what I gather as the most common/used translation, or the one I am most familiar, only three verses are translated (verses 1, 6, and 2, in that order). Since its original performance/publication, "Silent Night" has been translated into over 300 languages and dialects.

Connections to Buddy Daddies:

(Just to be upfront, this is more my interpretation. I also want to acknowledge that there are a lot of religious elements in this song, which I do not feel I can adequately address/discuss. Though I may be wrong, I also don't think the religious elements are really at play in Buddy Daddies)

First things first, it is more than a little ironic how the first time "Silent Night" is heard in Buddy Daddies, or when Miri enters the hotel in ep. 1, an instrumental version is heard in the background, and in ep. 12 during Miri's Christmas recital (also kind of in ep. 11 when Miri is practicing), a gunfight precedes or succeeds this song.

That being said, it works since those moments then act like the calm before or after the storm. While there will always be some craziness or hecticness in raising a four/five year old, the moments that Kazuki and Rei spend with Miri, especially after these fights, act as moments of comfort or reassurance that their family is all together and they have each other.

The final line we hear Miri sing, and of the first verse, "Sleep in heavenly peace," arguably represents Kazuki and Rei's wish for Miri: that she is safe, has nothing to truly worry about, and knows she is loved. Their drive and desire to let Miri sleep soundly at the end of every night is what causes them to choose their family over the organization and to fight back knowing that the organization disapproves of such "attachments" or the idea of Rei, Kazuki, and Miri being a family. While this scene is not connected to one of the times "Silent Night" is heard in Buddy Daddies, this comfort of having each other and being able to rest easy because of this feeling is also clearly seen in the ep. 3 after credits scene. The events of ep. 3 is the first time Kazuki, Rei, and Miri all seem to acknowledge that they are a family and will be staying by each other's side in the long run, which may then be why Rei quickly falls asleep as they are all relatively on the same page about their relationships to one another (and everyone he loves, whether or not he fully processes this yet, is safe next to him).

In having Miri sing this song at the end of ep. 12, the lines "All is calm, all is bright" also stand out because that is how Kazuki and Rei are seeing their future now. They've done everything in their power to walk away from the organization for good, and they did it without losing their lives. Now, their sole mission is to look after Miri and raise their daughter to be the best person she can be. The two walking into Miri's concert and standing in the back (not just because they were late, but because of their injuries) may give them some time for reflection about what they did that day and how that provided them the opportunity to successfully go after the future they've dreamed of.

Not directly related to the song, but during my research, I also found that another big accomplishment for lyricist Joseph Mohr was his role in building the first school in one village and setting up a fund that would help to cover the cost of education so that children from poorer families could still attend/be educated. His work as a priest could be interpreted as him having an affinity for providing for or working to better the lives of children. Considering how much Kazuki and Rei do to look after Miri's happiness and well-being, the personal life of the lyricist of "Silent Night" then adds some more depth into this song being featured throughout Buddy Daddies given Mohr's connections to looking after and taking into consideration the needs of growing children.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this quick little exploration into "Silent Night." There were more things I wanted to include in the history section, but I felt it would have been too much or gotten too long. I hope the little bit I included was enough though and not too boring.

Happy holidays, everyone!

-Dakota Wren

(P.S. gonna slide this announcement into the bottom of my post, but you know how I wrote at the top I've been busy working on "other projects?" Well, that's because I am currently planning to do a celebration week leading up to the 1 year anniversary of Buddy Daddies premiere. If all goes according to plan, I will have something posted each day from Jan 1st-Jan 7th. If I need to switch to plan B, then expect a mega-post or multi-posts throughout the day on Jan 7th. So while I don't have any new content for the holiday season, expect some relatively soon with the new year. Thanks for reading and again, happy holidays!)

[protect-daniel-james]

I have been writing! There is so much inspiration out there, and my life has been - surprisingly? - going so well lately! I just want to finish some fics before I go on holiday (Netherlands and Belgium) in two weeks.

So, what's in store? Please note that the names are not the real names, they are the names of the files I write the fics in (yes, I am no longer writing directly in drafts of AO3, it was a bit too brave and backfired a couple of times)

Daddy A in the army - this one is taking forever because it is....tough. I got the Zinky Boys book from my local library, and I will probably have to go through that for some more inspiration

His uncle was more pragmatic. “God helps those who help themselves," he said when Roman Arkadyevich brought up the topic of young men returning from their two-year service with wives, kids, apartments, and a bumaga entitling them to vacation in Bulgaria.  With that in mind, Roman Arkadyevich bought the three lucky packets of cigarettes; ready to meet Lady Luck halfway. Naturally, his packets of cigarettes were confiscated on the first day.

Pippo's wedding - this should be a short lemon-y smut because we all know the Inzaghis and we know what they are.

It’s not even ten in the morning and Simone is on his second glass of wine - it’s not a big deal, everyone around the house has already had something, right after their morning coffees, toasting to the groom’s health and happiness, but Simone stayed sober throughout the season, pedantic and precise as ever, wanting to always keep his mind clear throughout the season. Now even the small amount of alcohol, combined with the heavy humid air before the rain that was forecasted for the day, made his head swim.

Numa numa iei - because what's not to love about random EURO pairing

“Nikoushek.” Now he’s mocking him. Nikoushek is a specific memory that not everyone knew about. “Nikoushku,” he corrects him, burying his fingers in the dark roots of his hair. He wishes Adrian kept it longer, all over his head, and didn’t shave the area around his ears and nape. “You use the vocative case when addressing someone.” “Vocative case, what is that. Nikoushku,” Adrian repeats, and his eyes shine brighter than before. “I can’t even speak Romanian properly,” he jokes, before laying his head down on his captain’s bare chest. He can’t resist, and places a quick peck on the skin. He likes the contrast between the bare, hairless chest and the arms covered in tattoos of significant memories from Nicolae’s eventful life. The arms are for the world to see, to learn Nico’s birth date, see the image of his grandmother, admire the colors of the flag, read the names of his children, and get to know the sources of his motivation, Biblical, fictional, inspirational – but the chest is only for him to see.

Juicy - finally putting on "paper" the food kink Ange/Poch fic that celebrates juiciness in all forms, good food, loving good food, loving yourself, and all the good summer Greek-Aussie-and-Argentine stereotypes together.

Juicy. He couldn’t think of a better word. There was so much under his skin - so much to touch and knead and hold onto and rub - and the excess of everything about Ange, his body, his hair, his deep voice, the smile that usually played in the corner of his lip, it all filled Mauricio’s head with a soothing sense that everything will be alright.

Lentemente - it is called this because of the Django Reinhardt song Lentemente mademoiselle, no idea *why* though. It's the Unai x Andoni bookstore!librarian!AU, it's fun and sweet and soft and pointless

“I’m sorry – I noticed you have been standing here with this specific book – “ He quickly glanced at the book’s cover, just to quench his private and nosy curiosity over the book that seemed to have captured the customer’s full attention. It looked like one of those cheap paperbacks dedicated to sensationalistic retelling of history, politics, or anything else – but the cover was nicely done in a clean, aesthetically pleasing way, showing a traditional house façade. Que disent les maisons basques? He had to smile; it didn’t seem like the most thrilling read. “ – and there is a line outside,” he finished his sentence, trying not to seem too judgemental of the book of choice. He made some calculations in his head already – he’d never seen anyone even just remotely interested in buying this book, and he certainly never sold a single copy of it. It was one of those volumes that was always there during the physical inventory and yet Andoni wanted to keep it – if nothing else, it had a nice cover and looked professionally made, which wasn’t the case for some of the faster-selling ones. It was a French-language book, which added a sense of internationalism – and it concerned a local theme, the traditional inscriptions on the lintels of rural houses. It was exactly the kind of book he liked to keep in the shop, even if it wasn’t selling well – it added a sense of rootedness to the place.

[morphofan]

Hyper-Fixation and The Bad Batch

Or, "WTF Is Going On With Morph, Lately?"

Me and The Bad Batch

SO, I first started watching The Bad Batch during the hiatus between S1 and S2. I was big into Boba Fett (thanks to The Mandalorian) and so I found The Bad Batch because Boba was mentioned in one episode. But I didn’t sit down to watch it until my friend, Cyn, told me I HAD to watch it.

So I watched the whole first season, and then had to go back and watch The Bad Batch arc in Season 7 of The Clone Wars. I was hooked. I couldn’t wait for Season 2. I was writing again, inspired again, hyper-fixated.

My sweet cat, my baby, Thomas, died at age 5 in November of 2022. It emotionally destroyed me.

Then my desktop computer had a total hard drive failure. Up until then, I was backing stuff up in a separate folder on my computer, which did f*ckall because the entire hard drive went bad. This was before I learned about backing stuff up on a cloud or OneDrive or whatever.

I lost all my fics, including a half-dozen Bad Batch fics in various states of completion. It was some of the best work I’ve ever written, and it was gone. Poof.

So, there was that sense of lost, and I almost left the fandom from sheer depression. I tried to rewrite the fics, but it wasn’t going to work because I knew I could never replicate what I had written.

Then came “Plan 99.”

I didn’t eat for a week. Not a bite, not a calorie. For seven days. I dropped 16 pounds. At the time of this writing, it’s been nearly 10 months since the finale of S2. The Bad Batch has occupied my mind this entire time. I couldn’t tell you what I did over the last ten months, because it was all just a long blur. I neglected my family, my duties, all the things that a grown ass woman is supposed to focus on.

I still tried to contribute to the fandom, with “Travels With Tech,” fic and video edits, but most of it has been more or less ignored.

A week or so ago, the friend that originally told me about TBB died, very suddenly, of a heart attack at age 45, leaving three kids.

We still haven’t been publicly shown the S3 Bad Batch teaser that was revealed at Star Wars Celebration back in May 2023. There’s been no word of a release date, aside from 2024. It feels now like the creators are mocking us by dropping little comments on TwiX about S3, but not actually giving us anything.

And I’ve realized now, that I’ve built up S3 in my head so much, and imagined so many scenarios I want to see, that I am destined to be disappointed when it does finally air. No matter how amazing S3 is, it cannot live up to the standards I’ve assigned it in my mind.

I did the same thing with S3 of The Mandalorian. I kept thinking, if I could just hold on until S3 of Mando, everything would be good again. But when it came, I was disappointed. And I know the same thing is going to happen with The Bad Batch.

Hyper-fixations always follow the same pattern. I get obsessed with something, and then, quite suddenly, it passes over and I become ambivalent to it. It’s happened with every fandom I’ve been with. Something that, for a time, I thought I could not live without becomes ho-hum. I don’t ever want it to happen, but it always does.

And now I have the guilt of wasting the last two years of my life on yet another hyper-fixation, only to lose interest in it just as suddenly as it started.

S3 of TBB is NOT going to make everything right again. It might provide some happiness for a few months, but then it will end and that will be it.

So anyway… sorry.

END

[epersonae]

Top 10 Fandom Moments

I am trying to figure out how to interpret this, because I don't think I have been doing fandom long enough to have 10 moments that are important to the whole of whatever fandom, buuuuuut I do probably have 10 moments in fandom that are personally important? so let's do some kind of mix of those two things

The first thing I thought of: The Adventure Zone Balance finale, which I listened to over discord with friends, and it's the first time I've ever experience a media moment like that, and it remains incredibly special

Somewhat related: the Stolen Century reveal, which is the moment that I had my "you can't tell me that DIDN'T happen" experience, that led to me writing hundreds of thousands of words of fic

The first time someone beta'd a fic for me; I don't think we are mutuals anymore, but it was such a great experience having someone read my writing and offer help to make it better.

Similarly, and not long after, the first time that Ryn messaged me, and maybe more importantly, the time they messaged me and said "do you want to be a mod on this discord server I'm starting" and I basically said "sure what's discord"

This question has me thinking about fandom-like experiences when I wasn't actually in fandom, and the one that came to mind first was going to see the Lord of the Rings movies, especially the last one, on opening day, at the Seattle Cinerama, where the audience was full of people in costume, and people were cheering. (Goddamn, the moment when Eowyn pulled off her helmet? AMAZING, the shouting from the audience.)

The day that Ryn and I wrote the boss fight scene in The Reckoning Arrives, or at least a substantive chunk of it. Mostly I wrote it in a Starbucks across the street from my divorce lawyer's office. (Close runner up: the day that Ryn messaged that she'd written a scene from the POV of our OC in that fic, and it was so beautiful, and it was so very much for me going forward in that next phase of my life.

The first time I ever went to a con, and I did cosplay for it, and having artists recognize my Lucretia costume, and meeting @faintvox for the first time, and buying art, including a sticker that is now one of my tattoos

The day they announced the second season of OFMD! One of those joyful wild tumblr experiences, I'm so happy I was here for it.

The first time I read Water Flowing Underground, which both kinda melted my brain and also led to so many other things in my life.

The watch party I went to for those first three episodes of S2, and like the Balance finale, being among people who were Into It, but in person this time, and also being supported when I had a complete meltdown at the end of 2x3 when it was so hugely triggering (because it was done so well).

Bonus moment: this post, for Reasons.

[ask me my top 5/top 10 anything]

[amostimprobabledream]

Writer Tag!

Thanks so much @blindmagdalena! How many works do you have on AO3? As of right now, 67. What's your total AO3 word count?

No idea lol.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? A Lungful of Smoke Quid Pro Quo The Trees Stood Witness The Beast You've Made of Me the beast you've made of me

I feel like three of these should be discounted because I wrote them in like 2017 - the Hawks one was literally when he was first introduced and we didn't even know his civilian name then.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, though not every comment - usually if they're just like "Part Two!" or "More plz!" I tend not to reply to those. I tend to worry about looking like I'm purposefully boosting my comment number by replying to them all.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Definitely "as the stars explode".

What’s the fic you've written with the happiest ending? I'm not sure, most of my fics are smut oneshots so I guess hitting the big O is a happy ending. "The Gift" was a pretty happy ending for Grimmjow and Reader.

Do you write crossovers? Not usually but that doesn't necessarily mean I never will.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes. Once I got a particularly stupid one about some girl getting salty that I spoiled a character's death - a character that had only appeared in the manga, so as an anime-only watcher she shouldn't have even been reading about him since she shouldn't know who he is if she hadn't already seen some spoilers.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I think it's pretty much all I write lol. I'm trying to branch out a bit but I worry people feel cheated with no sexy payoff.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have, though this was back in like 2015 of a fandom I'm not naming out of embarrassment, and they reposted it to ff.net. Luckily I don't think Reader Inserts are permitted there so I'm assuming it got deleted anyway.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, a couple of times! Mostly into Russian.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, though my Peaky Blinders OC fic is based off an RP I was doing with my friend, so some of it was partly written by her, which I'm repurposing with her permission. <3

What's your all-time favorite ship? I tend to not get too involved with shipping because I like ships that are more unusual and get tired of the same super-popular pairing getting shoved down my neck. That being said, I am forever salty Peaky Blinders set up Tommy/May in Season 2 and then inexplicably just sorta dropped it because May's actress got preggers. (I want them to finally get together for the movie so badly but I'm not holding out much hope.)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? I like to think once my hyperfixation kicks in I'll go back to some fics I've ditched but I find multichapter stories difficult to commit to. I do want to continue with my Demon!Dabi story and that Dazai one I wrote one chapter of and then ditched. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm fairly good at dialogue and I try to put unique twists on concepts I've seen done before. I personally also enjoy the personalities I give to my Readers, I'm a bit picky with Readers in Reader Inserts (I hate it when they're either super passive and meek or aggressive af for no reason).

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I have a bad tendency to skip a lot of exposition because I want to jump to dialogue. I also sometimes worry my writing is too beige prose-y and I should take my time a bit more. Also I am awful at finishing multichapter fics because I get distracted so easily. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I guess it depends on how it's used? I quite like it when people write characters with accents, I think it adds a nice flavour to stories. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Fruits Basket and Naruto lol. What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to I have a bunch of like, half-started Billy Butcher x Reader concepts but he's such a hard character to write for. I think it's because I don't get to discuss him nearly as much as Homelander. What's your favorite fic you've written? I'm personally pretty fond of "I'm neon phosporescent" for Dabi being a kinky bastard and "stardust in my eyes" as my first foray into The Boys.

No pressure tags: @librarianqueen @inkyveins @honeydazai-main and anyone else who wants to participate!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Random questions for the inbox game: If you had any two super powers what would they be? What are your favorite accessories you wear? Silliest or worst gift someone has gotten you? Meal,you don't get to eat often, but you've been craving the most recently? What is something you have bookmarked to possibly buy when it goes on sale (or if not one item what store are you waiting to have a cool sale)? Something you've tried,or watched, recently that you thought you'd hate but ended up liking? I personally think ST will end on a sad note since there has been talk of expanding the universe apparently (sounds like a bad idea to me…unless they were just referring to that play. but I think Ryan R*nolds wanted a crossover of sorts with D*adpool idk) BUT If it ends on a GOOD note and has a finality to it, do you think Stranger Things will have one of those cliche movie credit sequences that says what the characters go on to do? If so what do you vaguely think it'll say for your fave 5 characters?

I would want to be able to fly (never have to pay for airfare again) and to be invisible (never have to pay for ANYTHING again).

I am not much of an accessories person, but I do wear my hat that says absolutely not at least a few times a week (when I'm too lazy to wash my hair).

I don't think I've ever gotten a bad gift, but I did receive an "I love ketchup" shirt for Christmas when I was in middle school because I put that shit in and on everything. Everything. Mac and cheese, eggs, steak, chicken, any form of potato. I still do love ketchup, and will put it on any of those, but I've definitely toned it down.

Anything from Homecomin' at Disney Springs. It's known as a joke to everyone who knows me that if we go out, I am almost always going with a pasta dish. But they don't even have pasta at that restaurant and it's one of my favorite places to eat. Everything I've had on the menu is so good, especially brunch. God, the cheesy potatoes. I'm drooling.

Most of my bookmarked stuff right now is hockey related items for Liam 😂 I also am always happy to spend money at bookstores.

Does writing count? I technically have only been on here for about three months actively posting my own stuff. I think I figured I'd post a few things and then go back to reading fics other people wrote and now I'm writing in all my free time because I love it so much.

This question is making me very emotional because I don't want it to end. I rarely get into shows or movies to the extent of which I have for Stranger Things. I think it will have a bittersweet ending. There's no way everyone is making it out alive and I am very attached to all of these characters. I don't think they will do the cliche thing there, but I just have this weird feeling that there will be some end credit scene that just goes black and says something like "The previous recordings are based on a true story" or something Blair Witchy like that. I have a bad feeling Steve is gonna be a goner. No, I'm not prepared for it and I won't be taking questions. I also think that either Will or El will sacrifice themselves and either end up dead or extremely hurt. I have a small concern Max is not waking up, but I think they will keep her in a coma for most or all of the season whether she wakes up or not. I think Dustin is gonna be so fucking traumatized they should do a spinoff that's just him in therapy.

Thank you so much for these questions you're amazing ❤️

[sunflouwerhabit]

more musings:

hi, my loves! i’m a little late to the party (it’s been an insane year, an insane few months, an insane week), but a week ago, i published the last 3 chapters of bring me home and that unleashed a WHOLEEEEE bunch of complicated emotions. i penned this little love letter to my newest fic and to all of you 🤍

we are one day out from 2025, which is both a relief and also, in its own way, completely devastating. as i reflect on 2024, i am just so grateful that bring me home was a story i got to tell. it’s forever my pride and joy. i love it and i love all of you.

thank you, thank you, thank you.

now the letter:

and with that, 27 chapters have come and gone! we’ve made it! bring me home

is yours! down the line (harry’s version) is an actual, real thing and you can read her!

for me, today comes with an incredibly convoluted mix of emotions: elation that my readers get to meet her in her entirety and know her the way i do. exhaustion after crossing the finish line. relief knowing all 27 chapters are published. devastated that I won't be working on this story anymore. anger and sadness and grief, because these past months have been hell and i wish we had a lighter world to exist in. grateful to the bmh universe for being my haven over the past two months. grateful to all of you and this family we've created. grateful, all the time, for the boys and the joy they've brought into my most formative years.

bring me home has two lives. plotting this story took several years. before writing a single sentence, i was creating 50+ pages worth of planning docs and sending pey 20 minute long audio messages and annotating down the line. it was pure passion-fueled work. then, over the course of ten months, i got to write her. alongside an amazing guardians season and along with this year’s best memories. late nights writing and writing and laughing with pey and writing some more. there is so much joy attached to this story. it’s the staple of the writing process. maybe that’s why she’s over 400k- a part of me never wanted this to end.

the second life, of course, is more difficult to talk about. when bring me home was published on october 13th, no one could have predicted how our worlds would change only three days later. it was unthinkable then and it still is now. for several weeks, i hated myself for publishing this story at the worst possible time.

now, though, i think bring me home was published exactly when it was meant to.

i needed this story. i needed to be able to escape into this universe where the boys are professional baseball players and they live in my gorgeous little city and they’re safe and happy and together. editing bring me home healed something in me. it was fun, it was hard, it made me laugh and it made me cry and getting to see all of you react made every tear worth it. fiction is healing. community is healing.

bring me home, thank you for being the bright light in an otherwise horrific time. we got a trauma bond like no other, babe.

i was really adamant, in late october, that i wanted to wait to post bmh. i wanted this story to feel light & happy. i now know that it’s okay that it also feels heavy, dark, & grief stricken. if i waited until it stopped hurting to finish bring me home, it never would have been finished. & it needed to be.

i hope bring me home can offer you comfort in the way it has brought me comfort. thank you so much for being patient and understanding and giving me the grace to approach editing and posting this story in the way i needed to. she’s yours. finally. please be gentle with her.

many of my favorite memories from my stories have come after they've been published. watching them start to mean something to the readers, too, is so special. it gives the story a new life. It's magical.

maybe this can be bring me home’s THIRD life. good things, after all, come in threes. baseball has taught me as much :-)

thank you for everything x cheers to the last bring me home day. i’m filled with so much gratitude and also i am so ready to take the nap of ALL naps. i love you all so much.

bring me home, forever. x

-lexie x

[tev-the-random]

(It didn't all fit in the tags so I'll just bring it to the post itself)

*deep breath*

I'm not gonna CHOOSE I'm gonna RANT. That was a silly small question, but I need to ramble.

Important to say! I'm not criticising the creators nor shitting on them or anything. I'm pretty happy with the stories we got and I adore what they've made! But! If I could magically get more content added to past stories, this is some stuff I am particularly curious about/would have loved to see more of:

Scott's Elsa arc. Specifically the Gem Being Frozen part. Currently writing a fic about it because it had SO MUCH ANGST POTENTIAL, IT'S INSANE-

On a similar note, Corrupted Gem. She got corrupted for .5 seconds and then it was over. It was such a perfect set up for some fantastic stuff to happen, sad she never got to go evil for a couple more episodes.

Also would have loved to see the Vampire Fwhip thing come into fruition. Both the twins deserved to be more Evil and Dark, but the fact that fWhip never even got to start on an arc he really wanted to make is just sad.

Ok, so remember that in Katherine's Empires season 1 finale she planted this magic seed given to her by the Overgrown and it turned into a mysterious giant flower? Maybe that was just the end of it and the flower is just there now. But I would have loved some explanation of what that was even supposed to be? WHAT WAS THAT FLOWER AND WHY WAS IT IMPORTANT??

The Crown arc in season 2 of Empires. Pixlriffs got withered to death by the crown and absolutely nothing came from it. He's just a ghost now. Nobody else was affected nor did we ever discover WHY that happened.

Scott's magic eye. He dropped a total of one (1) backstory dump on us about it and then it never came up again. Like, I know there was an easter egg in Witchcraft SMP about that eye-stealing skull, but just. Why? And why did his eye only ever actually see magic in like, two or three episodes? Well, obviously it would have been a pain to edit the colourful auras into every episode, but just the fact that Scott had that ability at all could have made him such a perfect asset for so many other plotlines!

Princess Katherine. Enough said.

The wisps guiding Princess Gem around Dawn? Gem said she was just larping the entire time, so what the hell were those???

The Sheriff shrine in Gobland. Like fwhip. Fwhip you don't just DO that and then never bring it up again. His whole obsession with the Sheriff went nowhere, the waste of batshit insane goblin-

Speaking of Sheriff, the Sheriff. Poor Jim got so taken over by the toy jokes that that was his entire series. He practically didn't get to do anything else. There was a point where his hat was implied to corrupt whoever wore it and he was supposed to get help from Joel to take it away from fWhip before the goblin went crazy, it even ended an episode on a cliffhanger, but once again, nothing happened.

The fact that Mayor Lizzie was hiding her identity never actually came up as a conflict. There were jokes about her cat tendencies, but nobody got to discover what she was.

Both E1 Pix and E2 False. RIP to our incomplete Copper Monarchs.

THE FUCKING FAE

(Switching to Witchcraft SMP real quick) not that it didn't get a conclusion, but more that it didn't make a whole lot of sense and I feel like a missed something: Bertha, darling, what the hell happened between you, your sister and your goat lover-

Ok I'm done lol

mcyt fans if you could choose one dropped plot thread/character arc to get a proper conclusion which would you choose

[myherowritings]

order’s up!

— Osamu gets a big order of some rather strange rice ball combinations an hour before closing. He doesn’t expect that he’d find the customer who ordered to be so damn cute.

pairing: miya osamu x reader word count: 2,387 genre: fluff, post manga timeskip

a/n: first haikyuu fic and aHH it was so fun to write ,, i didn’t expect osamu to be my first but here we are and tbh i am not mad~ ;) FJSDHKJ hope u enjoy!!

“One unagi onigiri to go-- Your order’s ready!”

A middle-aged man stood up from his seat at the waiting area and headed over to the counter, thanking Osamu for the fresh onigiri and making brief small talk. As the man left, Osamu looked at the customer next in line, thankful there was only one person in here so close to closing time.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he stated when your gaze met his, lips quirking up to give his best customer service smile.

You nodded with a warm smile of your own before looking down at the phone in your hands, murmuring what he thought sounded like “salmon, plum, beef, extra green onions, heavy on the seasoning.” Now, he liked to think there were no rules to onigiri, but part of him did hope you wouldn’t ask for all those ingredients in one gigantic, imbalanced rice ball. Maybe you were reciting a large number of individual orders.

He shrugged. Money was money, and all onigiri was good onigiri when made with his special Miya love. Miya love that was specific to Osamu in particular, of course. Atsumu could never recreate it even if he tried-- Not that he ever tried. The day he tried in something other than volleyball would be the day Osamu said he was the worst onigiri chef in Japan.

In other words, never.

Osamu hustled over to the cash register and you took that as your cue to step forward, hands fidgeting with your wallet and cellphone.

He smirked to himself in silent amusement. A shy one, were you? By now he had lost count of all the nervous and fidgety costumers he had gotten at his shop, but to allow them to stay that way simply wouldn’t do. If his patrons weren’t 100% comfortable in his care--well, as comfortable they could be in an onigiri shop--it meant he was doing his job wrong.

As the owner of Onigiri Miya he wanted to make sure every customer would leave with a smile and a desire to come again soon. That was how he built rapport and got so many regulars after all.

“I can take your order whenever you’re ready,” said Osamu in a slow pace, encouraging you to slow your rhythm as you tapped your fingertip restlessly against your protective phone case. Were you in a hurry? You seemed rather antsy, but he went on. “There’s no rush here.”

There was less than an hour until closing and he figured you would be the last customer of the day-- Meaning there was no reason not to slow down. As much as Osamu appreciated how lively his hometown could be, he also enjoyed quieter moments like these.

Not everything had to be so loud. Not everything had to be moving so fucking fast all the time. And he learned that in some instances, he could just control the pace himself.

Your worried chatter brought him out of his musing. “Are you sure? Because I know you close soon and I really didn’t want to come in so late but the guys are still down over a loss and said this was their favorite comfort food,” you said, eyebrows furrowed in a tell of concern. “It’s kind of a big order, so if you need to start cleaning up for closing I can just go to another store-- Sorry for imposing!”

He blinked. He thought he just said there was no rush to imply he wasn’t worried and you shouldn’t be either, but you didn’t seem to pick up on that.

“Hey, you’re not imposing,” Osamu soothed, somewhat alarmed at your apprehension. “You said someone was down over a loss? You on a sports team?”

Losing sucked. Osamu knew this firsthand.

Sure, in hindsight it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but while it could sure feel that way sometimes. If it was bad enough, it could take a few days to really get over and grow from it. So hearing that Onigiri Miya was someone’s comfort food that could help cheer them up on days like those… That certainly gave him reason to puff his chest up a little more.

“Yeah! Well, kind of.” You moved your head side-to-side as if unsure of your answer. “I help assist the volleyball team at my university. It’s my last year in school and I’m sure all of the other fourth years are bummed too.” Catching the small frown on your face, you stopped yourself before it spread, clearing your throat. “But it’s okay! At least we all had fun. And now they’ll be getting some of their favorite food to cheer them up-- If you’re still taking orders, that is…?”

He nodded. “‘Course I am.” Osamu flashed you a grin intended to make your worries disappear. “What kinda store owner would I be if I couldn’t make your team their pick-me-up food?”

The two of you shared a look before you tore your gaze away, biting your lower lip to hide your smile.

“Thank you, then,” you murmured, unlocking your phone to what appeared to be a notes app.

Osamu picked up his pen with a short hum. “Ready to take your order when you are.”

“Right.” You stared at your screen in concentration before listing off what you had written. “Can I have three salmon onigiris with green onions, two umeboshi and mentaiko with light seasoning and ginger, one tempura and unagi with green onions and sesame seeds and heavy seasoning, two…”

As he noted your orders, some arguably stranger than others--not that he should be one to judge, what with his own peculiar preferences--he made a mental note of how cute your voice sounded and tucked it away in the depth of his mind. Was cute the word for it? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he guessed that sounded okay enough. There was something about hearing you talk that made Osamu want to hear more, even if it was just a list of onigiri ingredients.

He huffed. Weird.

When you finished he repeated back your order, affirming it was all correct.

“Great, so I’ll be with you in about 15 to 20 minutes with your order ready,” he informed as he held the paper with the dishes he had to make. “You can have a seat at one of the tables ‘til I return.”

You nodded at his words but hesitantly opened your mouth. “Erm-- Wait!”

He looked back at you, mere steps away from the cooking area.

“Is it just you working at this hour?” you asked, standing with your hands folded behind your back as you craned your neck.

“Yeah, we don’t get many late customers on a Tuesday night so I’m the only one closin’ today.” Osamu gave you a curious once-over. Bright eyes, nervous yet playful smile, cute outfit-- Damn, he sure was using the word cute a lot today. All in relation to you nonetheless. “Why?”

“Are you sure the order isn’t too big for you in this hour?” Once again, you were fretting. He reckoned he ought to teach you some relaxation techniques and tips of how to be less...selfless. “Do you need some, uh, help?”

The corner of Osamu’s lip twitched upwards. Help? What were you planning on doing if he said yes? Learn the basics of food safety and onigiri-making in less than 20 minutes so you could assist him in making your order?

Something told him that was, in fact, what you were ready to do.

Cute.

“Stop stressin’, sweetheart,” he said with a tsk, not bothering to hide his amused grin. “I’ve handled bigger orders than this. You just rest your pretty little head and I’ll be finished before you know it.”

Though you still looked concerned, you nodded and sat down, probably figuring you would be more of a hindrance in his onigiri-making flow than anything else.

“Don’t miss me too much-- And don’t even think of saying sorry or anythin’ like that!” His tone was teasing but he meant what he said. You were a customer at Onigiri Miya and he wanted no patron of his to be worrying this much if he could do anything to help it. “The store’s still open and I’ve no issue taking your order. ‘Kay?”

You blinked. “Okay. I… Thank you, uh, Miya-san.”

“Just Miya’s fine.”

“Right. Miya. Thank you.”

He sauntered off into the kitchen to get started with your order and as he went through making your onigiri, he hoped you wouldn’t still be feeling bad about a big order that wasn’t even that big compared to others he got. Besides, you had already paid for the order. There was no point worrying after the transaction went through.

Osamu soon made his way down the list of rice balls and, just like he promised, popped his head out of the kitchen along with three, full takeout containers in record time.

“For the cutest customer here tonight-- Order’s up!”

You perked up at the mouthwatering smell of his onigiri, pressing a hand to your stomach as you hummed. “I’m the only customer here tonight, but since your food smells so yummy I will choose to let that comment slide.”

Holding the bag of takeout in front of his, Osamu smirked at your surprisingly steadfast composure. You didn’t get flustered at his unabashed compliment like he thought you would, and for some reason that made you seem even more appealing.

As you accepted the order, he quipped, “Only customer here or not, you’re still the cutest.”

You wrapped your fingers around the handle of the takeout bag, the edge of your pinky brushing against his thumb. “Hmm, then-- I guess you’re definitely the cutest worker here tonight, even though it is by default.”

Osamu laughed, both in amusement and in happiness after finally getting you to feel comfortable in his shop.

“A compliment’s a compliment and I’m not above being the cutest by default,” he said with a lazy drawl, watching as you set the onigiri bag on the counter in front of you while easing into a conversation with him.

“As if you would ever have to win by default. You seem much too handsome and talented for that.”

It sounded like you were flirting. Were you flirting? He noted the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you lingered in the store instead of leaving once you received your order.

Yeah. You were so flirting.

“Cute.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing.” He smiled secretively but wouldn’t expand on what he said despite your questioning look.

You narrowed your eyes. “Sure, okay then.” Your fingers wrapped and unwrapped themselves from the handle of the to-go bag, like you didn’t want to leave just yet but didn’t know what was left to say. “Well-- Um, thank you for the order! I’m sure this’ll cheer the team right up.”

“And you as well, I hope.”

“Of course. I haven’t even tasted it but it already has.”

Just being here already has, is what you seemed to say. Osamu rather liked that implication.

“But… I still feel kind of bad for ordering all this so close to your closing hours,” you said sheepishly, rubbing the side of your neck like it had a knot. “I’m sorry.”

Osamu waved his hand at your words. “Please, what do you have to apologize for? Making me do my job?” he asked cheekily, his sideways grin showing teeth. “You shouldn’t feel bad.” He noticed the way you brought your lower lip into your mouth with uncertainty and he continued, “But if you still do...there is a way you could repay me and soothe those worries.”

You looked up, eyes widened. “How? I’d do anything.”

Dangerous words coming from such pretty little lips.

He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, unintentionally bringing your attention to his forearms. “Let me treat you out this weekend, yeah?”

Your gaze followed his hands as you nodded. “Yea--” You blinked to snap out of your daze and he stifled a laugh. “Wait, wait! Shouldn’t I be the one to treat you?”

“What kinda gentleman would I be if I were to ask you out on a date and tell you to pay?”

Maybe Atsumu would’ve made his date pay for their meal and activities of the day, but Osamu wasn’t him. Osamu had class.

“A date?” you parroted. “As in one with me? And you? Together?”

There wasn’t anyone else in the store he could be asking. Nope, just you and your awkwardly cute self.

Osamu nodded in affirmation. A date is just what he was asking you out on. “Well, only if you want, of course.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain the wide smile that threatened to spread across your face. “I wouldn’t mind a date with the cutest worker here tonight,” you teased, looking around the store before meeting landing on his face. “I still want to be the one to treat you, though. It’s the least I could do.”

As happy as he was that you didn’t reject him, he didn’t give. “Don’t worry about treating me-- Your company’s a better treat than money could buy.” You snorted at his pickup line and Osamu silently cursed his brother for saying that line would always work. And then cursed himself for believing it. “Look, I’ll pay. I insist.”

“I insist too.”

You held each other’s gaze, neither one wavering. He seemed to realize you weren’t going to give in, but he wasn’t planning on it either. He huffed, shaking his head, entertained. “Okay, then. How ‘bout we rock-paper-scissors it when the day comes?”

“Fine by me,” you laughed, hiding the bottom half of your face with your hand. He wanted to hold it in his so he could see the full smile you were covering, but Osamu decided he could save that for another time. “But don’t think you’ll have an easy win! I’ll have you know I play a mean game of rock-paper-scissors.”

“‘Course you do, sweetheart.”

And he didn’t doubt that at all.

As strange as the orders were and as nervous as you may have been at the start, Osamu found himself rather fond of you. Was working overtime worth it just for a date with a cute costumer?

Yeah, he decided. It was.

a/n: y/n’s vball team waiting for their comfort food after a bad loss while y/n and osamu are just there flirting after hours: 👁💧👄💧👁