#i need to launch myself into the sun

[eldritchqueerture]

unmedicated adhd will have you scrolling through the same posts on your dash for the third time, asking yourself How Do I Leave the House, hoping the answer somehow appears in the posts

[kindahoping4forever]

Luke @ When We Were Young Fest - 22 October 2023

📸: Yising Kao

[vroomian]

What if I quit my job and became a monk

[iguessitsjustme]

🚂💛🧡❤🧡💛 it's a love train! send this to all the blogs you love! don’t forget to spread the love! 💛

<333 I just got home from work and after the day I had, I really needed this. Thank you!

[milo-is-rambling]

Anyone else got that praise only feels good coming from people who don’t know you thing or is it just me?

[b-blushes]

can u even believe it i have dealt with 2 of the issues that were taking up most of my brain power, cooked a very vegetable-rich lunch, did my laundry....... wow that's functional, baybee

[cinnabeat]

the way reiko does something unquestionably strange and then immediately stops interacting with baby shigeru as if to preemptively avoid the rejection shes sure to get what if i start screaming

[halonicheart]

Worthy is the Heart

Summary: In which Estinien dreams of a dreary ball swarmed with faceless strangers, a chivalrous lost soul, and two very important people dear to his heart. What could have easily been a nightmare was a tender yet bittersweet dream, one he didn't know he needed... ---- Time feels as though it moves slower here, wherever or whatever this place was, it wasn’t right. Estinien is at a loss for how much time exactly has passed when he finally can see something that was actually familiar. He reached the end of the sea of people, just a few wide strides ahead of him was a figure with their back facing him. They wore a flowing dress dark as night, long black hair curled at the ends, skin ghostly pale… He knew who this was. “Lovette” His voice barely above a whisper. “Lovette!” He wished so badly to rush to her side and pull her close, his heart swelling at the very thought. However, there is a hand grasping his arm. The glare he was ready to send whoever it was that grabbed him withers in mere seconds. An older Hyuran man with salt and pepper hair was giving him a crooked smile. For Alberic to be here, of all places…

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

10

(T.W sexual content)

Jinx

She tasted like berries.

Sweet, but not in a fake, sugary way—real, ripe, and just a little tart. Like she’d bitten into something moments before and I was just catching the aftertaste.

It’s been hours, but I swear I can still feel the ghost of her lips on mine, still hear that little hitch in her breath when I pressed closer.

Fuck.

I flop back onto my bed, arm draped over my eyes, trying to will away the ridiculous grin stretching across my face.

It’s stupid.

I’m being stupid.

But my brain keeps looping it—her fingers in my hair, the way she shivered when I kissed down her neck, the way she didn’t pull away.

I run my tongue over my lips absentmindedly, half-expecting to taste her again.

I don’t, obviously.

But damn, do I want to.

I roll over onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling. That kiss—it keeps coming back, like a song stuck on repeat.

It’s like the air’s different now, charged in a way it wasn’t before. It’s heavier, thick with something I can’t name yet.

My mind spins with thoughts of her—Y/N, all quiet and measured and impossibly soft—yet when we kissed, she wasn’t like that at all.

She was there, fully present, her breath hot against my skin, her hands steady as they tugged at my hair.

I let out a frustrated sigh and punch the pillow beneath me. This isn’t helping. It’s just making me more wound up.

But the thought won’t leave me, won’t stop scratching at the back of my mind: What if she wants more? What if I want more?

I sit up and swing my legs off the bed, pacing back and forth. Fuck. What am I even supposed to do with this?

I know I’m a mess. I’m always a mess. But with her? I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to have her close, to kiss her. It wasn’t just about the kiss itself, but everything around it—how she reacted, how her body moved, how I felt with her.

The problem is, I’m not sure if she feels the same.

I need to know.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N

It's pouring down. The sky is an endless wash of gray, with rain slashing against the windows like a thousand tiny blades.

The world outside feels muffled, like the storm’s swallowing everything whole, and inside, it’s just me, wrapped in the quiet of my room.

I’ve been staring at the books on my shelf, picking up one, setting it down, picking up another, but none of them seem to hold my attention. Not when my mind keeps drifting back to her.

To Jinx.

The way her lips felt, soft yet sure against mine. How everything inside me seemed to catch fire for just a second. I’ve been trying to tell myself it was nothing, just a moment, but it wasn’t just a moment. Not to me.

The sound of something scraping against my window shatters the silence, and my heart skips a beat. I stand up, instinctively moving toward the sound. When I reach the window and pull it open, I nearly stumble back in shock.

Jinx’s face peeks through the rain-soaked window, her eyes gleaming with that same wild energy I can never quite place.

Her lips curl into a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, she launches into a dramatic, over-the-top quote. “It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. And none but fools do wear it, cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love!”

I blink, momentarily thrown off by her theatrical entrance. My pulse quickens, not just from the surprise but the way she’s looking at me, the intensity of her gaze almost too much to bear. “What… what are you doing?” I ask, trying to regain some semblance of composure, even as my heart hammers in my chest.

She just grins, that wide, almost-dangerous grin of hers, and without any hesitation, she climbs in through the window, her drenched clothes sticking to her like a second skin.

Water drips off her, splashing onto my floor, but she doesn’t seem to care.

"Jinx," I start, my voice tinged with concern, "You're going to freeze."

"Well, warm me up," she says, her voice playful, daring, and that's all it takes. Her lips are on mine again, sudden, hot, and desperate in a way that makes my breath catch.

It’s different this time—more urgent, more consuming. I don’t have time to think before her hands are pulling me closer, pushing me to match the intensity she’s giving. Her body presses against mine, the cold of the rain outside clashing with the heat building between us. The wetness of her hair still clings to her skin, but it’s all forgotten, lost in the wave of sensation that crashes through me.

I’m lost in the kiss, her taste, the way her lips mold to mine like we’ve done this a hundred times before, even though we haven’t. My pulse quickens, the tension in my chest tightening as her hand trails up to cup my face, her thumb grazing my cheekbone.

My hands slip beneath the drenched fabric clinging to her skin, slow, deliberate.

"You need to take these off," I murmur, feigning practicality. "You'll catch hypothermia."

I try to sound convincing. I really do. But she knows. I know.

I just want her bare.

A grin splits across her face, teasing and sharp. "You trying to get me naked, toots?"

Heat flares across my cheeks. "And what if I was?"

"Then I’d say—tit for tat."

I blink. "Pardon?"

"I’ll get naked if you do," she says, her dimples carving soft shadows into her cheeks.

Oh.

Oh.

I should hesitate. I normally would. I’ve never been bare before someone before. But it’s her. And like she said—tit for tat.

My hands abandon the hem of her soaked t-shirt and instead ghost over my own nightie. She watches, eyes heavy-lidded, something molten burning in their depths. My breath catches when the fabric pools at my feet.

"Tit for tat," I echo, waiting.

And she follows suit, peeling damp cloth from her skin, piece by piece, discarding them carelessly onto my carpet. There will be stains later. I don’t care.

I watch, entranced, as she strips away every obstruction—every piece of fabric separating us—until only her underwear remains.

Pink with blue stripes, painted onto her hips like a second skin.

I exhale sharply.

She tilts her head, lips curling into something feral. "You good, toots?"

I nod, unable to form words, and she laughs—soft, breathless—before stepping closer.

"Y/N—"

I look anywhere but at her. The floor. My hands. The storm outside. Anywhere but at her—

Her hips. Her thighs. Her waist. Her breasts—

"Y/N."

My name, insistent now, pulls my gaze up just in time for her hands to find my waist, for her lips to crash against mine.

I know what to do this time.

I part my lips, just slightly, and she takes the invitation without hesitation. Her tongue slips inside, and the sound that escapes between us—low, needy—is neither hers nor mine, but something we create together.

This is different.

Reading about this could never compare to living it.

I’ve read about moments like this, devoured words printed in delicate ink, tracing the whispered confessions of lovers between dog-eared pages. I know the rhythm of desire, the way books describe it—skin like fire, breath like smoke curling in the spaces between bodies, pleasure painted in prose so lush it drips like honey from the page.

But I had never truly understood it.

Not like this.

Not the way my pulse thrums in my throat, too loud, too fast. Not the way her lips press against mine with a hunger that words alone could never capture.

Stories told me what passion looked like—how it felt in theory. But they never prepared me for the way my body trembles beneath her touch, for the shiver that racks my spine when her fingers ghost over my skin.

They never spoke of how need coils in the gut like a living, breathing thing.

Or how lips taste different when they’re messy and desperate, when kisses are more than poetic metaphors—when they are real.

My knowledge of love, of lust, was shaped by carefully crafted scenes, lines of dialogue rehearsed in my head a thousand times over. But the script is gone now, torn from my hands, and all that remains is instinct.

Her.

Me.

My hands trace the curve of her spine, following the dip, the flare, until my fingers spread over the swell of her ass.

All her earlier bravado vanishes the second she whimpers against my mouth.

I drink in the sound, greedily, pulling her closer, deeper, until the need for air is secondary, insignificant compared to the press of her lips.

Then she shifts. Mimics my touch. Shoves me back—

My knees hit the edge of the bed, sending us toppling onto the sheets. She lands on top of me in a tangle of limbs, her body pressing into mine, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up—light, unrestrained, joy in its purest form.

The sound is stolen by her kiss.

She keeps kissing me, as if my lips hold answers to all her unspoken questions.

Perhaps they do.

When I pull back to catch my breath, I notice the smudge of deep mauve staining her lips—her lipstick smeared, ruined, evidence of the control we’ve long since lost.

Then her lips leave mine, trailing lower—

"Oh, oh—Jinx—"

I hardly recognize my own voice, wrecked and shameless as she marks my skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my neck. Searching. Seeking. Until—

She finds it.

A sound—practically sinful—rips from my throat, unbidden.

She stills, lifting her head from the crook of my neck to look at me.

Smug.

So insufferably smug that I don’t know whether to roll my eyes or kiss her senseless.

I choose the latter.

She snickers against my lips, the sound reverberating through me, sinking into my bones like warmth on a cold night.

"Y/N," she murmurs, so soft, so uncharacteristically tender that I melt beneath the weight of it.

"Jinx," I try to mimic the tone, sultry and smooth, but it betrays me—awkward, inexperienced.

She doesn’t mind.

She only smiles before resuming her path downward, lips pressing, teeth grazing, leaving behind welts I’ll wear like a brand.

Lower, lower still.

Her mouth ghosts down my stomach, past my navel, until she reaches the last barrier between us.

She pauses.

Faltering.

I had assumed—assumed she had done this before. But her hesitation speaks volumes.

"Jinx—" Her name leaves my lips breathy, pleading. She knows what I’m asking.

And so, slowly, she hooks her fingers beneath the waistband of my underwear, painted nails dragging against my skin as she tugs.

I giggle, lifting my hips to help.

This is vulnerability like I’ve never known, like I’ve never allowed myself before.

But it’s Jinx.

It’s Powder.

My Powder.

The damp fabric is discarded, forgotten. She wraps her arms around my thighs, pulling me closer, breath shaky as it fans over my heat.

She’s nervous too.

Then—

A warm exhale. A flick of her tongue, tentative at first, an exploration, a slow unraveling.

Then—she finds it.

Finds me.

Her lips close around my clit, sucking, hard—

A yelp tears from my throat, unfiltered, obscene, and it only spurs her on.

Her nails dig crescents into my thighs as she devours me, hungrily, desperately.

She wants to consume me whole.

And god—

She’s succeeding.

She tugs me closer, impossibly closer, her mouth sealing over me, sending white-hot pleasure searing through my spine.

My back arches, fingers tightening in the damp strands of her hair as my body succumbs, as I surrender.

As she ruins me.

"Oh—fuck, Jinx!"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

She tastes fantastic—sweet and sharp, a flavor I could drown in, a craving I’ll never shake.

I pull her closer, teasing her with the slow drag of my tongue over her clit, just to see. Just to feel.

She responds beautifully.

Y/N’s back arches, hips pressing into my mouth, her voice slipping into something uncharacteristically filthy. If she could hear herself now, she’d blush to hell and back.

I slide lower, tongue dipping to where she’s already soaked, drinking in the proof of her pleasure.

“Fuck,” I breathe against her, the vibration making her thighs twitch, her body offering itself to me in trembling anticipation.

My eyes flick up—locking onto hers as I push my tongue inside.

"Jinx—holy shit!"

Her voice is wrecked, needy, breaking apart as I move, tongue and lips working in tandem to unravel her. She tries to hold my gaze, but she can’t—her head falls back, mouth parting in a soundless plea.

My fingers replace my tongue on her clit, circling, coaxing, guiding her higher as I devour every reaction, every desperate sound spilling from her lips.

She writhes beneath me, pressing her face into the pillow as if she can contain the pleasure, and it’s intoxicating.

And then—

My name, her voice breaking around it, slipping between variations, between love and abandon.

"Jinx—fuck! Pow, Powder!"

Her body bows, hands clutching the sheets with a desperation that might tear them apart, and I don’t stop.

I drink her in like she’s the sweetest sin, the most potent drug, something sacred.

Eventually, trembling hands pull at me, urging me up, and though I want to keep tasting, I relent.

I pout, but one look at her—soft, glowing, utterly undone—and I’m undone too.

I shift beside her, fingers slipping between hers, holding her, grounding her.

"You okay, toots?" I tilt my head, waiting. But she’s still floating, lost in the aftermath.

I grin, waving a hand in front of her dazed expression.

"Earth to Y/N."

She giggles, hazy, dreamy, nodding as if the world makes sense in this moment and this moment only.

"I've never been better," she murmurs, voice still syrupy and sweet.

She tugs me closer, pressing a kiss to my lips, and fuck—

I could stay like this forever.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: they finally got 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, hope you liked it ;)

please like and reblog <3

[eldritchqueerture]

someone in my circle better get caught up with Malevolent and become a Patreon supporter right this second because im going to explode

[kedreeva]

There are good things in this world still

Today, we installed a new light for the peafowl in the barn, since the old lights were burning out slowly, and it's SO BRIGHT in there now.

Today, I got to report to the vet that Aurora is doing better and discuss where to go from here, which was a hopeful thing. I got to report that the antibiotic, while extremely effective (possibly), also has a major side effect that's happened to both birds it's been used on, which may help them in the future if other peafowl need the same treatment. It sucks to be dealing with it but it's also nice to know the experience will help someone avoid the experience down the road.

Today, I hung up one of Bug's paintings on my wall, the one I found myself smiling over every time I saw it. I REALLY like how it turned out, and it feels like getting a little bit of Artemis back, even though they're not technically related; Bug's mom (Aurora) is actually the hen that sat on and hatched Artemis' egg too late in the season.

Today, Sark made too much peanut butter frosting and ate it on more sugar cookies. Living his best life on that front.

Today, I had a delicious glass of chocolate milk.

Today, the sun came out and Bug got to go outside all day. When I went to collect her, she was SO EXCITED that she raptored around the flight pen for a good five whole minutes with me, and tried to involve the other birds who were very confused about why I was also running around with her. My favorite is when she BOLTS up to me and SLAMS on the brakes with her wings flipped out and up, ducking down and looking up at me, and waits for me to stomp my foot before she absolutely loses her shit (positive) jumping into the air and zooming around and launching herself off of any surface that gets in her way. I love her, your honor.

Today, I hung out with two dogs and over a dozen chickens at my neighbors house, because Pete took Jude away on a day trip to help her de-stress from the stuff she's been dealing with and he wants her to be happy.

There are good things left in this world, however small. This is your opportunity to reblog this and share your good things with each other, or check the notes if you need a reminder.

[moldcursed]

ethan doesn’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t know what to do, whether or not what he’s hoping for will even work — but he has to try. it’s his own mistakes, his own bout of insanity, that brought this on, and if there’s even a chance to fix it, he’s going to take it.

it isn’t necessarily a conscious act, but instead more of a feeling. a thought that ethan hopes he’s somehow willing into existence. fix him, fix him, fix him : words thought over and over again, a mantra, silently commanding the decay that lingers beneath the skin to make itself useful. to put sebastian back together, to keep him alive. to worm its way inside his ribcage and make itself at home inside him.

as his hands remain on sebastian, face streaked with his own tears, ethan knows there is risk involved in this. there’s a small part of him that knows that it may go wrong as it did with so many of those taken by the bakers ; there is a small part of him that wonders if he’s being selfish by even trying. but when sebastian whispers his name, when his eyes flicker closed and his body goes slack against him, ethan knows it doesn’t matter. none of those risks are important in comparison to fixing this shit.

he still does not move away from sebastian’s body, even once he’s ceased breathing. he does not quit touching him, thumb stroking along his jaw. it feels somehow important that he stays close, and that’s an instinct that ethan won’t argue with.

he’s dead, silly, that little voice in the back of his head laughs, girlish and airy. he’s dead and you killed him!

she’s right, and yet she isn’t.

seb is dead. ethan did kill him.

but somewhere deep down, as ethan stares at his best friend’s seemingly lifeless form, there’s a feeling of connection.

a flutter. a tug on a string connecting him to the man beneath him. it is sensed by some crucial part of him, almost as if it is in the fibre of his very being, and ethan knows that it’s worked in some way or another.

how well though, he isn’t sure.

sitting here watching and waiting for sebastian’s eyes to open, to see the rise and fall of his chest, feels like an eternity of torment. “ wake up, you bastard, ” ethan murmurs, tone bordering on something close to pleading. “ i know you, seb : you’re stubborn. you’re a fighter. you can do this — just wake the fuck up for me … ”

It feels about right that even as his consciousness starts to wane, the sound of Ethan crying jolts him more than his own pain. Then again, he's bled out enough that pain doesn't really register any more, not even when Ethan presses into his wound.

He understands, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Ethan's trying to help him now. He understands that something in him has shifted, and when Ethan's hand cups his cheek, Sebastian blearily blinks the tears gathered in his eyes away.

Don't be scared, he wants to tell him, even here. Even all fucked up like this. It's all gonna be all right.

But he's tired in a way that he hasn't been in a long time. In the fleeting moments that Ethan's concerned face comes into focus, Sebastian's heart aches, wanting to ease that worry out of him, but in his exhaustion all he can manage is a nod of the head and the softest, "M'kay."

He doesn't really expect to be saved. Truthfully, Sebastian already feels liberated having broken through Ethan's insanity to get his best friend back in the last moments of his life. But the hand that Ethan keeps on his side is warm-- so warm, compared to how cold he's become-- and even as his eyes stay on him, Sebastian isn't really able to see the way Ethan wants him to.

If nothing else, all his senses become hyperfocused on Ethan's hands on him. Each point of contact is an anchor: the hand that holds him tenderly on the face, the one on his wound where it feels warmest.

Sebastian can't see, but he can feel. And he feels something bizarre squirming into his blood-- something spindly, weaving like thread into his knife wound and sinking into his veins. If he had any sense left, the feel of it would terrify him; goosebumps pop along his skin, even, but he's lost enough blood that he doesn't even notice any more.

"Ethan..." Sebastian whispers his name, but there isn't a thought attached to it. The tears in his eyes drip until they dry out, and webs of alien warmth sear through his blood.

"I..."

His eyelids shut. His pulse fades to nothing.

...and then it flutters.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 14. Little Girl Gone.

Dahlia has survived and bonded a dragon, but now she must face her father who awaits her back in the flight field. With a dragon very much known to the both of them.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

”It will do for now.” I joke back, his breath wafting over me as he chuckles behind me.

I can’t help but feel a sense of Deja vu as I turn to face him. The clearing so similar to the one all those years ago as I take him in. Only this time he’s far closer than he was that day. Ironically it almost feels like a dream seeing him here in front of me. Like I would wake up any moment back in my bed.

But he was real. And he was mine. As if sensing my thoughts he inhales loudly, his chest puffing out proudly with the movement. His sapphire blue scales catching the setting sun as the silence settles around us.

”We should start heading back. You’ve ventured a fair way in.” His voice startling out of my trance.

I raise an eyebrow at him before taking a few steps back to prepare to mount him. “No thanks to you.” I retort.

He lowers his head, eyes narrowing at me at my words. I know he won’t harm me, but I can’t help the panic that briefly sets in as he eyes me.

”You survived didn’t you?” He snaps at me before extending his leg out for me to mount.

”For the most part.”

I now knew what the gauntlet had prepared us for. The last part almost perfectly replicating the run I needed to do to mount him. Though clearly it was made for dragons a fair bit smaller than my own. I take off, doing what I can to gain as much speed as I can before grasping onto his scales and climbing up his back.

”I can see. You might want to clear up that blood before we head back.”

Shit, I’d nearly forgotten about my nose. I slowly reach up and touch it. It hurts, but it’s luckily not broken. I grasp the sleeve of my shirt, tearing it off to wipe away the blood. I definitely didn’t get all of it, but hopefully it looked better than it did. I lower myself down onto the smooth divot of his back, reaching out to grab the thick ridge of scales Kaori had referred to as the pommel.

Clearly happy I’m seated properly, he bends slightly before launching us up into the sky. I try to hold back the yelp that escapes my lips, but it escapes before I can stop it. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment. But at the same time it feels so natural to me. As if I was made to sit on this dragons back. As if this was what I was always made to do. The sound of his beating wings and the rush of air is all I can hear as we rise above the trees.

As I look around I spy a few other dragons with riders heading towards the flight field. But with how few there are and the setting sun, I know we’re one of the last ones to head back. Meaning anyone still down there is most likely unbonded or dead. With the dragons too far away, I’m unable to tell with riders are on their backs. I hope Bodhi, Austin and Liz made it. No, they did. They would all be down in that flight field waiting for me.

”Why did you protect me the other day?” I ask as we bank towards the flight field.

It had been a question on my mind since Presentation Day. And honestly a question on everyone’s minds. No dragon had ever protected a cadet on Presentation Day. Especially not like that. But it was extremely rare a cadet would have met or known their dragon prior to that day. Only a handful like myself, a child of a Dragon Rider, had seen a dragon up close before coming here.

”I thought it would have been obvious to you by now.” I had a feeling if I could see his face, his words would have been accompanied by an eye roll. Can dragons even roll their eyes?

”Well it’s been a few years. Wasn’t sure if you actually remembered me.” I retort before he throws us into another bank, causing my to fumble for my grip on the pommel. Bastard.

”Little flower, I watched you grow up for most of your life. You might be older but you still look the same.”

”That doesn’t answer why you defended me. And stop calling me little flower.” I snap back as we level out, starting out decent to the flight field.

”I defended you because I knew you we’re my rider. I have been waiting for you since the day my last rider passed. I would have done anything to make sure no harm came to you little flower.”

Clearly we were not giving up on the little flower nickname.

Without warning his wings starting beating faster and faster before launching us upwards at an alarming rate. It’s now I remember Kaori had warned us all the dragons would put us through our paces, making sure we could keep our seat and to put on a show for those below. I sneak a glance to my left, below us hundreds of dragons and riders line the field. Most likely all with their eyes on the last of us to make it back.

His wings stop beating as we hand in mid air, a weird feeling of weightlessness falling over me. I feel the slight change in gravity as we go to drop, but instead of falling with it he spreads his wings beating them loudly as we flip backwards into our decent, another yelp escaping my lips as we start falling towards the ground in a spinning motion. I was now secretly glad I’d barely eaten breakfast as I would no doubt be struggling to keep it down right now.

Just when I think we’re going to crash into the ground he spreads his wings wide, pulling us upright as we descend into the ground. A ferocious roar of celebration echoes around us as we descend. Hundreds of dragons line the edge of the field, as well as spectators who have filled the stands to watch the bonded riders. As we touch down onto the ground, I notice the formation of dragons. On our side are the new first years with their newly bonded dragons. Across from us are the dragons and riders in second and third year. If it wasn’t for the fact he was my squad leader, I would have thought my dragon picked out spot based on the other dragons colour. Across from us is a dragon I’d only heard Bodhi and others speak about. The biggest and most ruthless dragon in the quadrant. Sgaeyl. Though with how she was eyeing us off, I had a feeling we now rivalled that position.

As my feet touch the ground, I’m met with a different set of eyes. The ones belonging to the rider of Sgaeyl. Xaden. He offers me one of his signature smirks and a brief nod of his head before his attention shifts to his right, where another set of eyes are looking at me. Garrick, who has his usual unimpressed look on his face as I meet his eyes. I give him a vulgar gesture which only worsens the look on his face before I turn to my way down to the roll keeper.

”Do I want to know what you’re problem is with him?”

”Everything. Now what do I call you before I make a fool of myself in front of the roll keeper and that thing I call a father.” I snap back as I start down the make shift path down the middle of the flight field where a line of cadets waits to give their dragons name.

Movement on the dais catches my attention. I knew he would be here. Knew he would be waiting for Dain and I to bond our dragon. I hadn’t even bothered to see if Dain had made it back on my way down. And I wasn’t turning my back on my father to check.

His eyes don’t meet mine. Still too focused on the dragon behind me. I don’t have to be an inninstic to know what he’s thinking. I know exactly what he’s thinking and the lecture I’m definitely getting after I tell the roll keeper his name.

The rider ahead of me finishes telling the roll keeper their dragons name, moving aside to let me move forward. She looks up and offers me a smile. “Ah, Dahlia Aetos. Congratulations on bonding a dragon.” She says as she writes my name down. “For the record, please tell me the name of the dragon who chose you.”

Behind her my father steps forward, close enough to hear the name leave my mouth. I hold my ground, shifting my eyes from the roll keeper to his. The same brown eyes Dain and I inherited. Eyes that I cowered under as a kid. Eyes I had hoped and wanted to look at me with love and adoration while I was a kid. But not now. Now I couldn’t care less how he looked at me, as long as I proved him wrong.

“Now would be a good time to tell me your name.”

”Prothoenor.”

I square my shoulders and lift my chin, the corner of my mouth lifting into a smirk I know my father hates before I announce his name.

”His name is Prothoenor.”

She nods happily, before writing down his name next to mine and motioning for me to move along. I pivot on my heal, tearing my gaze from my fathers. I barely get ten steps away before I hear rushed steps behind me as a hand roughly grabs my arm and spins me around.

I resist the urge to shove my hands out and shove my father away, knowing I will face far worse punishment for disrespecting leadership. It didn’t matter if he was my father. I was a rider and he was a Colonel who out ranked me. It seems the last few days were out to get me with Deja Vu. The last time I had seen so much hatred and rage in his eyes was back in that clearing. The day mother had died. They had he had told me I was no daughter of his.

”What are you playing at bonding that dragon?” He snarls at me as he tightens his grip on my arm as I try to tug it free.

”I am not playing at anything.” I snap back.

”Don’t mess with me girl. You know who that dragon belong to before you.”

I tug again on my arm, finally succeeding at getting it free as I step back. “Yes I am aware who his rider was before me. He was the last family I had left before his suspicious death.”

He recoils slightly at my words before leaning back towards me and pointing a finger at me. “Your grandfathers death was not suspicious. And as I’ve told you before, we will not be discussing his death ever again.”

”You can’t tell me, that sending his squad to an abandoned outpost near no enemy activity and none of them surviving isn’t suspicious.”

Everything about his death sent alarm bells off in my head, especially as I got older. Something never sat quite right with me about it. But any time I’d brought it up I was locked in my room until he’d seen fit to let me out again. And now I had bonded his dragon, I knew his was scared I might find out the truth behind it all.

He goes to step towards me but comes up short as he averts his gaze over my head. Gasps sound around me as those around us turn their gaze behind me. So far our little conversation had gone unnoticed. Until now. The familiar shake of the ground tells me who is approaching. His words from earlier echoing in my head.

I would have done anything to make sure no harm came to you little flower.

And apparently that also extended to my own father. My father who quickly steps back, giving me a fleeting glare before walking back to his place on the dais.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun

Previously known as In Times Of Flaring: Here is the official Part one to the series! You can also find it on AO3 I finally made an account!

Take Me To The Sun (846 words) by leftmeinwonderland

The quadrant is in chaos. Finding out who is alive, who we all lost - and all I can think about is they aren’t back. He isn’t back. 

I wish I could comfort you, flare. Rathnait whispers to me, and for a moment I feel guilty that I feel so out of sorts for not being able to focus on shielding my emotions from her. Her talons tick nervously on the flight field, vigilant over my every move and breath. All I can do is stare at my dragon vacantly. Streaks of dark copper highlighted her grace, her beauty - running down the length of her neck and down each of her legs. Rathnait was a sight to behold, and I was only grateful to be considered worthy to be hers. Her scarlett colored scales glistened in the setting sun, as if mirroring the sun itself in all its bright glory. Her swordtail flicked in the air back and forth in agitation. We must not get ahead of ourselves, you would feel it if something happened to him. 

I reach out to clutch her nose to my chest, needing to feel the warmth of her breath on my clammy self. She nudges me gently, trying all she can to ground my spiraling thoughts. 

I can’t help but think of the moments I last saw him - the fight, the anger. 

****

“Xaden is already bending the rules with bringing Violet along, I can’t ask him to risk your well being as well,” Garrick murmurs in my ear as we watch the tense showdown between Dain and Xaden. I try to ignore the sting in my chest, having to wrinkle my nose to rid myself of unshed tears. 

“You're not even gonna try, after everything? You just expect me to watch you go? You’ve been keeping secrets, Garrick. This seems like part of one of them” I hiss at him, shrugging my arm away from his hold. Rathnait glowers at both Garrick and Chradh, his brown scorpion tail - the irritation she feels at watching me get hurt is almost enough to make her snap her teeth at them both. Garrick’s jaw clenches, his ever composed features faltering at the anguish I knew he could see in my eyes, could hear in my voice. 

Just say the word, flare. I’ll teach him to treat you with more care. Rathnait snarls at Chradh, snapping as he tries to nudge her affectionately. I don’t want to put her in an uncomfortable position, to push away her growing care for Chradh. You let me worry about that. Chradh knows you are the one I chose, the one I will always look out for.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish we had time to talk more, but right now I would rather know you’re safe with the rest of your squad. Your anger towards me is worth it if I am guaranteed your survival,” I watch as he makes sure his flight gloves are secure, flexing them before flickering those earth toned eyes towards me. My heart cracks a little bit more - all I want to do is scream. To shove him and get him to see that this is hurting me, is crushing me. How much more can I let slide? How much more can I take when all I want is to want him. To love him.

“And what about you? What if you don’t come back?” 

Xaden and Violet make their way towards their dragons. Squads have begun to launch to their respective posts, Dain and I are being waited upon by Second Squad. 

“I’ve survived too much to lose now. I’ll be back and we can talk - I’ll tell you everything,” Garrick promises, stepping forward to plant a soft kiss on my temple. Clutching his flight jacket, I can’t help it as tears fall down my cheeks. 

“It seems like you might lose me though,” Turning around to follow my Squad leader, ignoring the curses from Garrick, ignoring the way in which my Squad watches me with grimaces and pity. All for fucking War Games, all for nothing. 

I make my way towards the group, needing the familiar, needing their constant. Ridoc opens his arms, bringing me in for a brief tight embrace. Sawyer offers a wavering smile.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Rhiannon softly asks, wiping my wet cheeks with her hands. I shakily smile at her, making sure my own flight jacket and gloves are secure. I can’t bare to watch Garrick and Chradh take to the sky, having to believe that he’ll be ok, but at the same time wanting to protect myself from more heartbreak. 

“Let’s go get this over with.” I quickly scale up Rathnait, she chuffs at me, making sure I’m secure in my seat. Let’s go flying, Ray. Take me towards the sun. Sending my devotion to her down our bond. She launches quickly, wings flaring gloriously. The rest of the squad is quick to follow. 

I’ll always make sure you’re near it, flare. The light will never die in you, not even from this pain. 

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

Ok thoughts 👏thoughts👏Everyone gather around I have thoughts about this!

Episode 2 was clearly the Pomni episode. We got to see her character get a little more fleshed out and we also got a glimpse of what motivates her which is great.

With this tweet we have solid confirmation on who the upcoming episodes will center on (thanks for not making us guess, Goose) and this lineup is really interesting.

First fascinating thing is that Kinger and Zooble share a spotlight in ep 3. Why is that? Everyone else gets their own dedicated episodes so why are they unique in that regard? What connects them?

Well, I have one idea!

So we know since the pilot that Kinger has been the one to have lived in the Circus the longest out of all of them. We’re still not sure if he was in fact the 1st human to be trapped (maybe we’ll find out in the next episode) but he definitely has the most seniority, both in age and in length of entrapment.

We also know that Zooble was the most recent character to get stuck before Pomni (and considering their attitude, it may have even been quite a while beforehand) AND is the youngest character next to Jax (they even share the same age, which could be a coincidence but it feels too deliberate of a choice).

Which means ep 2 will simultaneously focus on the oldest and the youngest of the characters.

I’m actually curious as to what their dynamic will be because they haven’t really interacted much in the pilot (and like not at all in episode 2), if they end up interacting in ep 3 at all. But mostly I’m excited to see them more fleshed out with hopefully Pomni getting the chance to bond with them (either together or separately).

My guess is that the purpose for them to share focus on an episode is to get perspective from someone who’s been there the longest and has seen more people come and go than anyone else vs. someone who was just recently in Pomni’s shoes and had probably a much different first day experience (we know Zooble cared enough about Kaufmo to personally organize his funeral so they may have some…feelings about who’s essentially his replacement).

Ep3 is also supposedly Gooseworx’s most anticipated episode so I’m extra excited.

Next we have Gangle for episode 4. I honestly don’t have a lot to say about her or the significance in her episode placement outside of her being the closest in age to Pomni (being only a year older). The only hint we get about what her episode will possibly consist of will be on how reliant she is on her ComedyMask to feel happy, which will be very interesting and we might even get some confirmation on whether her avatar was programmed with that feature upon entering the Circus or if it was an add on of sorts by Caine to help keep her sane. A pretty shitty feature if it can’t last for very long but it does make for a nice metaphor about how fragile her facade is (girl is literally masking).

Actually I don’t think her and Pomni have actually exchanged words yet in the show. Wouldn’t it be funny if they don’t up until her episode. Like Pomni is so caught up in between whatever mess episode 3 has in store for Kinger and Zooble that the two of them never actually talk and it just keeps getting more awkward. Gangle wants to talk to her but is so self-conscious about her Tragedy self that she’ll only feel safe to have a conversation if she has her mask, but it just keeps breaking before she even gets the chance.

Again this is all just speculation, if they actually end up talking in episode 3 I’ll…make ship art of them.

Yeah

Anyway, episode 5. The one I’m personally waiting for because y’all should know what I’m about by now.

*Warning: Unhinged, borderline psychotic tangent incoming*

I swear to god if Pomni and Ragatha don’t have a fucking conversation before ep 5 I will launch myself into the sun. I’ll take anything, I just need them to get real for a second. I NEED to know the extent of this woman’s damage. It has to be explored, analyzed, and dissected and I will do so with gusto when the day comes. None of these characters will be safe from my scrutiny, but Ragatha oh ho ho, you have been living rent free in my head for too long, madame. You WILL pay your dues and I intend to collect in every episode until there is not corner of your unsound mind that I have not examined in great detail!

Ahem *Straightens tie* Ok back to business

So yeah, Ragatha.

It may be because we’ve only had 2 episodes but I can’t help but feel like we’re supposed to see Ragatha as a sort of deuteragonist since out of all of the supporting characters she’s so far been getting the most focus aside from Jax, and we’ll get to him in a minute (I promise that’s not just me being biased, or maybe it is, I don’t know, you tell me).

In just two episodes we’ve seen more of what makes her tick compared to anyone else. And of the main cast she’s been the ONLY one to make any kind of connection to the main character and have enough of a meaningful interaction with her to leave an impression.

But this is what really clinched her role as a deuteragonist for me, she’s so far been one of the few to have the narrative briefly shift to her perspective to give us significant character moments like these:

The show REALLY wants us to see just how NOT ok she is.

If she’s meant to be the heart of the group, her heart already can’t take much more damage. Her friendship (if you can call it that, it’s so painfully one sided right now) with Pomni clearly means a lot to her, so much so that her entire sense of self worth seems to be tied to it (and if you’ve been paying attention, she doesn’t have a lot of that as it is). It would be nice to see their connection gradually grow before her designated episode, where she might experience actual growth for herself.

And if episode 2 is any indication of how this show preserves friendships well…

Yeah, I don’t think she’s gonna make it.

In fact, I’m willing to bet actual money that she’s either gonna abstract in episode 5 or episode 6.

Which brings us to Jax’s episode! The other deuteragonist…tritagonist? He definitely shares some degree of significant narrative focus along with Pomni and Ragatha. He’s both an active antagonist force and one of the only characters to drive the plot forward every time he’s on screen (then there’s that weird thing where he keeps breaking the fourth wall).

He has so much significance in the story that Gooseworx gave him his own bullet point in her list of content warnings (this could also be a joke, but I mean it would be funny to see just how despicable they can make this character).

Gooseworx also described Jax and Pomni’s relationship in the show as “messy”. After episode 2, I don’t think she considers him as a candidate for any kind friendship like she did for the others, and who could blame her? In just two days the guy abandoned her to deal with an abstraction and chucked her out of a truck. He’s no one’s favorite person, and he relishes that. Bunnyboy definitely has some issues that Pomni would pick up on the more she’s forced to spend time with him. To the point where I can see her trying to eventually form some kind of bridge because, as her previously established character motivation implies, she’s not the kind of person to intentionally leave anyone high and dry. But unlike the rest of the crew, I don’t think Jax would be inclined to change for the better just because someone took pity on him. He seems like the kinda guy to dig his heels in and commit to his bad behavior out of spite.

And for his episode to come after Ragatha’s, why do I get the feeling the reason Gooseworx went so far as to preemptively apologize to bunnydoll shippers specifically is because he’s gonna cause something really really bad to happen to her (could be abstraction, could even be something much worse) that he would come to sorely regret.

And oh boy would that evoke some feelings in everyone!

I feel like if that is indeed the direction this show is going, the rest of the episodes will really be something.

I’m also certain Caine will get his own episode but right now he is very much an antagonist to these characters. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a villain, but he’s certainly not someone Pomni is keen on sympathizing with, at least not currently.

Thanks again @lilyclawthorne for helpfully providing me with the tweet so I can give some context for my ramblings of the week!

[currebunz]

Homecoming (Kenji Sato x Singer!Reader)

A/N: I decided to start something like a series. I'll rework a more detailed version of Captured at a later date.

Word was that Kenji Sato was returning to Japan. The sun rose, the sky was clear and the day seemed just right. Of course, you already knew he was coming back as you were the first person he told about his big move. You were excited to see your long time friend again, but things were different. You both were different. Kenji had become more boastful, the hard work he had put in paid off and he was reveling in the attention. He was a man now, not the boy you had known.

You had also changed, launching your singing career and becoming somewhat of an idol. Although you called yourself a musician and a singer, your fanbase rivaled that of idols. You remained humble, finding the spotlight to be too much and keeping your public appearances to concerts and TV programs. The contrast between you two was nearly like night and day. However, you didn’t let that concern you. All that mattered was getting to reunite with Kenji again.

Kenji had arrived the day before, but he needed some time to sort out his living situation as he told you. Not to pry, you decided to make plans with him before he started to pile on work. You called him with a video call, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Don’t tell me jetlag kicked the Kenji Sato’s ass” you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. You try taking a red eye half way across the world and then talk” Kenji yawned.

Even if he was a bit disheveled, he somehow made it look attractive.

“Uh huh, and who was it that said ‘the second I get off the plane we are going places?’” you asked.

“I know, I forgot about the press meeting. I’ll make it up to you somehow” Kenji sighed.

Naturally, the moment he returned to Japan the press was foaming at the mouth to get an interview with him. He had his hands tied as he couldn’t deny the publicity and the chance to look good.

“You can make it up to me with…. Okonomiyaki” you said.

“What? Okonomiyaki? You realize you are getting to chill with the Kenji Sato right? We could have anything in all of Japan! Sashimi, Fugu, Wagyu! And you want Okonomiyaki?” Kenji chuckled.

“If I wanted any of that, I’d get it myself. Besides, don’t you remember after every game we’d go out and get Okonomiyaki? You, your mom and dad, my mom’s and I would go to a local place” you began.

“Yeah, and dad would try to flip the whole thing,” Kenji sighed as he remembered.

“And all the toppings would fly off. I smelled like Bonito for three days” you laughed.

Kenji grinned, looking softer now. It made you happy seeing him like this. It reminded you of the past when he would be glued to your side.

“You think you had it bad? My uniform smelled like Okonomiyaki sauce for a week!” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, recalling the tragedy of Kenji’s baseball uniform. Thankfully, your moms helped Emiko get the scent out in time for his game. As the laughter subsided, you had a silly smile on your face as you looked at Kenji.

“Well, I still want Okonomiyaki” you said.

“Fine, how about afterward?” he suggested.

“It’s gotta be before my concert” you reminded him.

“Shit, that’s right. You have a concert tonight” Kenji hissed.

You had to resist the frown from showing on your face. Of course he had forgotten, Kenji Sato was a busy man. So busy he couldn’t keep track of your schedule, even after you shared it with him.

“It’s alright, we can do it another day. Maybe when we both aren’t so busy” you sighed.

Kenji looked a bit panicked, his steel blue eyes going wide before he cleared his throat.

“N-No, no. I want to do it as soon as possible. I mean… I want to see you. In person” he said.

You hung your head low and sighed. Honestly, hearing him say that made it hard for you to meet his eyes. You slowly raised your head and gave him a wry smile.

“Alright, we can try,” you agreed.

“Maybe Kenji Sato could get VIP backstage access to the concert and surprise you?” he smirked.

“Uh-huh, I’ll let the staff know to let you in. Just don’t make yourself at home in my dressing room. I have important things in there” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Things more important than me?” he teased.

“Oh please, you know there isn’t anything more important to me than you. Well, maybe my bass guitar” you snickered.

Kenji started laughing too, relaxed that you had forgiven him and given him another chance.

“I’ll see you tonight, you’re going to be great,” he said.

“Hit a home run at the press meeting” you said back.

The call ended there, as both of you were called away for the evening. You had been in your dressing room preparing for the concert. On a large monitor was the press meeting where Kenji was… well, himself. It made your stomach tighten over how cocky he was being. You knew it would spell trouble for him with his team. But hopefully they would see the Kenji you knew.

Or rather used to know.

“[y/n] The venue has let the audience in, we're ready to go on,” your secretary announced.

“Right, thank you Kohaku” you nodded.

The show must go on, regardless of how you felt. As you left your dressing room, you turned off the monitor, Kenji’s smirk faded to black before you turned to leave. Your mind shifted to the performance, clearing your head of any other thoughts than your songs and choreography. As you stepped onto the stage, the venue exploded in cheers.

“What a huuuuuge crowd! I think we could bring the whole venue down!” you shouted.

Your fans screamed a loud response back, not that you could really understand it.

“Let’s get this show on the road! One, two, three!” you shouted.

As the music began, the crowd sang along and cheered. It was no different from your previous concerts, everything came to you easily. You could feel yourself begin to sweat as the set list made it to the halfway point. Just as it was about to reach the point where you did your signature set, a loud alarm blasted through the venue.

“Warning, Kaiju attack” came through the speakers and on every screen.

You watched as the fans began to file out, the staff guiding them to the nearest exits. You jumped off the stage, assisting the people in barricades to take the back stage exit with your staff.

“[y/n]! We have to get going!” Kohaku called to you.

“Not until everyone is safe!” you shouted back.

You looked around for any stragglers. There was a group of teens carrying one on their shoulders. You ran over to assess the situation.

“She fell and her leg got trampled, she can’t walk” one of the teens explained.

A loud roar came from above and the ground began to shake.

“Take her through the back, follow Kohaku out” you took them as you pointed to your secretary.

The teens nodded, hurrying over to Kohaku who took on the weight of the injured teen. As you watched them leave, you hear another loud roar. Metal crunched and screeched as a huge shadow loomed over. You weren’t sure what you were seeing but it was a Kaiju for sure. And it was falling backward onto the venue.

Your legs felt stiff as you hurried to run away, just in any direction to avoid being crushed. When the Kaiju finally fell backward onto the venue, you were launched into the air. Everything went dark as you felt heavy weight on your body and pain radiating through your limbs. It hurts to breathe let alone move.

“[y/n]! [y/n]!” Kohaku called for you.

You couldn’t open your mouth, the dust and dirt surrounded you. Nearby, you saw a light stick and turned it on. You hoped the light would signal to Kohaku where you were. After a few minutes, you could hear footsteps approaching.

“Right here! I need a rescue here!” Kohaku shouted.

The debris keeping you down was removed and you were rushed to a hospital.

----

The next day, you had your arm in a sling. It wasn’t bad, but you had bruises and pulled muscles. But you weren’t cleared to do any work. You had been lucky enough that Kohaku let you still attend the TV program you had agreed to be a special guest for.

“It’s not like they are going to make me do push ups,” you sighed.

“You're injured, that is going to be a beacon for gossip,” Kohaku said.

“People are going to talk regardless, at least let me have some fun while it happens” you begged.

That was how you ended up on a chair in a TV studio waiting for the cameras to start rolling. What you didn’t expect was for Kenji to be the other special guest.

“[y/n]? You’re the other guest? This is… this is great-” he stopped when he saw your arm in a sling.

“Oh yeah, we got good chemistry so we can bounce off each other” you grinned.

But Kenji just stared at your wounded arm.

“It looks worse than it feels, I’ll live” you began.

“What happened?” he asked.

“D-Don’t worry about it” you said nervously.

Before he could press further, the host interrupted you both to start the show. You forced the best smile you could, feeling Kenji’s eyes on you. The talk show started on a humorous note as the host made puns regarding both Kenji’s and your profession. It was only a matter of time before the conversation shifted to your injury.

“That’s quite the shiner you’ve got there, wasn’t it from the Kaiju attack last night?” the host asked.

“Uh… yeah. Neronga kinda fell on the venue. These things happen” you replied.

“Talk about going out with a bang, how are you holding up?” the host asked.

“I’m fine, I just need some rest” you said.

“You should’ve rested today” Kenji scolded you.

You turned to him, keeping your lips in a thin line.

“Who knew Kenji Sato was a mother hen? Looks like he does care about something other than baseball!” the host joked at your expense.

The audience laughed but you ignored his comment.

“Anyways, the KDF took care of that monster before it could turn you into a pancake. Any thoughts about it?” the host asked.

“I mean, I’m grateful the KDF managed to take care of the situation. But Ultraman kept the fighting away from my venue. I think if the KDF had let him fight it at least the destruction would have been avoided” you answered.

Kenji stared at you, swallowing as a frown set on his features.

“But didn’t Ultraman run away? I think he bit off more than he could chew back there” the host laughed.

Cue another laugh from the audience.

“We all have our bad days, I want to believe he’ll save us next time” you argued.

You turned to Kenji, noticing he looked rather guilty.

“Don’t you think so too?” you asked.

“He snapped out of the dark thoughts swarming in his head, blinking before nodding.

“Uh yeah, sure he will,” he said with false confidence.

After the show had concluded, you started to meet up with Kohaku. You heard someone jogging behind you and already knew it was Kenji.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

“What’s this about? You standing me up or not answering your phone?” you asked.

Kenji cursed to himself, he had told Mina to direct all calls to voicemail.

“Both, let’s go. Right now. I know you have nothing planned with that keeping you busy” he said as he pointed to your arm sling.

You pouted at him, furrowing your brows.

“Okonomiyaki” you huffed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know” he laughed.

Kohaku was annoyed to hear that you had skipped out with Kenji. You hadn’t said that it was on his motorcycle either. There had to be some kind of rule against riding with only one good arm. But you threw caution to the wind as you used one arm to keep you grounded to Kenji. Although, he had driven more carefully knowing you were at risk of falling off. When you both reached the old Okonomiyaki restaurant, the memories began to come back.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” you said in awe.

“Don’t fix what isn’t broken or something” Kenji chuckled.

You both sat down and began to create a monster of an order. It felt like you were both kids again, mixing things and exploring new combinations. When it came time to make the pancake, you looked at Kenji with a sly grin.

“All right hot shot, you gotta cook it,” you said.

“You can at least put the topping on with your good arm,” Kenji rolled his eyes.

“Just make sure you don’t flip it on my head” you snickered.

“Oh ha, ha. Like I can’t flip a pancake” Kenji sarcastically laughed.

“Says the guy who ended up taking an Okonomiyaki shower” you continued to tease him.

“Hm, maybe you should try one,” he said as he filled a spoon with Okonomiyaki sauce.

Kenji leaned over the table to push it closer to your face.

“Ken! Don’t you dare!” you squealed.

You both began to calm down as your hunger became more apparent. Kenji managed to keep all the toppings on and flip the pancake. Now it was time to eat. You grabbed a spoon, unable to eat properly with your non-dominant hand. Kenji watched you clumsily try to eat with the spoon.

“Okay, hold up” he said and stood up.

He grabbed his chair, moving from sitting across the table from you to sitting adjacent to you. He was close enough to bump elbows with you. He raised his chopstick to your mouth.

“Say ‘Ah’” his voice came out playful as he held up a bite sized piece.

“You can’t be serious” you said as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. The both of you moved forward and the bite sized piece of Okonomiyaki made it into your mouth.

“Oh! So good!” you exclaimed as your cheeks tingle.

“Uh huh? See? And you didn’t want my help” Kenji smirked as he fed himself.

As much as you hated yourself for thinking about it, this was an indirect kiss. You pushed the thought to the back of your mind and hummed loudly.

“Well, if you insist. Then you can feed me” you laughed.