#i'm going to make a better post about this game at some point but GEEZ IT WAS GOOD

[momentomori24]

I have just now finished Cold Front and holy shit. That was a lot more intense than I thought it would be. I need a Winnie plush to forfeit all mortal possessions to now.

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 11: Bob

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It was as if the layers of sleep deprivation and bodily fatigue were stripped away from him all at once. No, that wasn't right- he was being stripped away from them, not the other way around. First came relief, and then came the realization that he hadn't for one moment been fully awake since he arrived on the first morning. Looking down at his body, which was thrashing around violently and baring its gums at the behest of its temporary occupant, he thought, 'geez, I look awful' (not that he looked much different from usual.) It was quite the hit to his self esteem (not that his self esteem had too many hit points.)

"Who the heck are you?" said Bill in his own voice, and then he backtracked and realized that he had promised he'd only ever say that once in ten billion lifetimes. "...I think I must have hit my head, 'cause I don't remember jack! Woah! I'm suddenly getting the urge to stab a hot poker into my eye! Heh heh, weird. Untie my hands so I can go and do that, would you?"

Sarah kept smiling that same unsettling smile. Rob wondered if anyone would have untied him after hearing that request, and considered for a moment if Bill was playing inscrutable 5D chess or if he truly was floundering for the right words and saying whatever came to mind. Just then, Bill turned his head at an unsettling angle and looked right up at Rob.

"So you think you're pretty clever, huh?"

He pretended not to hear him.

"You forgot I'm not stuck here! I can go whenever I want!" he yelled (or said- his volume was always an issue).

"And void the contract?" Sarah asked, leaning uncomfortably close to Bill's face.

"Huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about the contract?"

"I know lots of things," she replied with an audible satisfaction in her voice. That was- no, impossible, Bill thought. Could that seriously have been some kind of coincidence? Who was this? He had to look at Rob's memories, and he had to do it now. But the 'before' memories or the 'after' memories? He was great at chess, he was, but they were playing checkers. He was good at checkers, too, mind you, but they had the checkers pieces on the chess board even though tournament rules should forbid them from bringing in pieces for other games- ah, this metaphor was tearing at the seams! Why couldn't it be as simple as them being his pawns? In his mind, the metaphorical chessboard grew orifices and them turned inside out and digested itself.

"I'll find another pawn," he said to Rob, referring partially to the metaphorical situation. "You think you're valuable? Needed? Don't make me laugh! Ahahaha! Too late, i'm already laughing!"

Sarah kept on smiling down.

"Do you have a twin?" she asked.

"W-what? Uh, like I said, I'm kind of an amnesiac right now! And having hallucinations- hey, uh, what's my name?"

He narrowed his eye, dreading the answer that was about to come out of her mouth. She would say Rob, right? It would be so much simpler if she said-

"What's your name? Do you mean your name or his name? Oh, sorry, I mean, do you want me to say Rob's name or your name? Rob's name is Rob."

"I-"

"Your name is Bill! Isn't it?"

He yelled in frustration and Rob thought that, even if for just a moment, Bill passed perfectly for him, a deeply unsettling realization.

"Okay, I'm taking that as a yes."

She passed a hand over her face and switched effortlessly into a scowl, leaning over him like this was some sort of bizarre horizontal police interrogation.

"Alright, slick," she said in a gruff tone, "You better get talking. Did you ever have any siblings? What were your parents like? Were you ever a baby or did you pop out fully grown? And did you have the hat and tie when you were born or did you get them later?"

This situation would have been hilarious if he wasn't one of the people involved.

"...Wouldn't it be silly if I broke your friend's wrists to get out of these ropes?" he said through an insincere, face-splitting smile.

That shut them up! Finally, some fear! Priceless. All he had to do was get rid of those pesky human inhibitions and yank real hard, now! But, wait, how would he break into the Mystery Shack with no hands? How would he try and pour something spicy into his eye with no hands? How would he do anything at all with no hands? On the bright side, neither of them had treated that like a bluff. That was good. Maybe he would just break Rob's wrists and leave the body for the look on their faces alone. There were other pawns- this had all been one big detour in his plan, to begin with. He had to focus on getting out of the-

Oh, right. Oh, right. The Nightmare Realm. The one that this kid had gotten into and then out of into the third dimension. The whole reason he had even taken interest in Rob and his many mysteries. It was time to take a look- and he knew this was the right choice- it was time to take a look at Rob's memories from before he arrived here. Unknowingly casting aside the chance at knowledge of his eventual defeat and how to avoid it, he made his choice and closed his eye.

"Wait, no! Don't put me back!" said Rob's mindscape form as he was pulled towards the body, a first in all of Bill's many centuries of interacting with humans. His pleas were ineffective and Bill brought both of them into a dreamless sleep, where he cracked his knuckles and prepared for the gargantuan task of sorting through the cyclops' memories. What would the boy's mind look like? A quaint childhood home? A lawless desert island? Some sort of polygonal Picasso dimension?

He saw all three, sort of. In front of him was TV static as far as the eye could see, surrounded by black borders above and below, marred with floating islands that held fully-intact buildings- houses. A mall. A school. A junkyard. A forest (though the entrance to that one had a sign reading 'NO BILL ALLOWED', which meant it had to have been Rob's post-arrival memories.) Hovering in the top left corner of his field of vision regardless of where he turned was a pause symbol, as if he was looking not at a dreamscape but at a television screen containing one.

There was a wall of light in the distance beyond which all of the islands looked unfinished, like storyboard drawings. Past those were simple sticky notes and then nothingness- the furthest extent of Rob's memories, no doubt. Dreamscapes were never linear or easy to navigate, but with time he could definitely piece together an understandable story. It was just a matter of picking a starting place. And where better to start than the nearest building to him- a mall?

-

The mall was dark and cold. Gone was the crowd that had been a constant presence since the first day of the apocalypse, gone was the frenetic atmosphere. No one was here. Maybe the fighters had been sent through the ceiling and all of the spectators had followed them out to wherever they had landed? Sure, maybe. Either way, hoping that this was temporary, he took up his usual spot in the car park and waited for business that took several hours to arrive. The sound of footsteps approaching was such a relief that he forgot about his mystery man act entirely for a moment.

"Oh, Harold," he said. "Ah! I mean, what may my establishment do for you?"

"You will refer to me as Mayor Wilson."

"...Since when does this place have a mayor?"

"Since the Order Order reestablished order in Eastmore."

"The what? I've been gone for five hours, how much could have changed?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked-"

"Actually, I'd rather not know."

He cleared his throat and began to answer anyways.

"The unruly atmosphere needed to be quashed lest this town tear itself apart. I and several like-minded colleagues put together a new order for order, the Order Order, in opposition to the Chaos Order, which currently occupies the territory of-" he shuddered- "Westmore."

"Westmore?"

'Mayor Wilson' stood at one of the broken car park windows and the van reluctantly followed. Sure enough, there was now a fence with plenty of police tape at the parallel edges of a few floating islands, beyond which almost every building was on fire and distant figures yelled and screamed near-profanities.

"Oh," said the driver. "So you're preventing this town from being torn apart... by dividing it in half?"

"Precisely! Ah, and if you intend to do business in Eastmore, you need to know we've reestablished a stable currency around here. No more 'anything goes'."

"How'd you convince people to adopt one?"

"With money," he said, proudly putting his hands on his hips and then quietly, quickly speaking under his breath, "andthethreatofviolence."

"Sorry?"

"Ahem! Nothing, nothing, my friend. Now, the new currency is Pogs. They told me my collection would never be valuable, but look at who's laughing now! Oh ho, it's me. I'll take one can of caviar." He emptied three wallets full of the aforementioned things through the window and onto the driver's lap before he could even protest.

"I don't have any caviar in stock."

"...Hm. Well, then, give me the closest thing you have, and by royal decree, you shall fetch some next time you stock up."

"Royal decree? You're a mayor!"

"A mayor whose territory you are parked in. I have supreme authority to boot your vehicle, sir, and all the Pogs I need to get it done!"

"I'm going to Westmore," said the driver, revving up and plunging through the window, but not before he grabbed a few food items from the back and knocked Harold down like a bowling pin with a well-placed breakfast burrito to the face.

-

The mall was full of light. The windows betrayed no signs of the TV static world outside, though the clouds in the sky were frozen in place and the pause symbol loomed where it has been from the start. There were beings here, also frozen- blob people, food people, shape people (who Bill found oddly familiar). All of their faces were missing, covered up by dripping static ooze. One figure, being dragged into a static door in the center of the hall, was entirely obscured by the ooze- why just him? Bill thought the figure might have been Rob himself, but after a while he noticed that there was a Rob here, too, not too far from the door, also perfectly frozen. This was a snapshot of a memory.

Entering an unmanned video store, he encountered more obscured figures and flipped through the DVDs on sale, each one a memory that popped up on the TV behind the counter as soon as he opened the case. They all seemed to be of various sorts of traps, but none of them went past one still frame. Weird- were this guy's memories really so bad that they were just still pictures? Or-

Bill glanced up at the pause button in the corner, narrowed his eye, and left the video store to look for the nearest TV remote, which he found without much fanfare in memory-Rob's frozen hand. Sure enough, the world sprung to life after a single press! But things were still perfectly silent. Before Bill could adjust the volume, memory-Rob chucked the remote into the static door, which he promptly closed. He would have found a way to follow it in if a wall of credits hadn't suddenly started rolling. Unable to access the rest of the memories in the mall, he decided he'd return later and popped right back out into the dreamscape proper, making a mental note that Rob had a lot of traps in his repertoire. That told him absolutely nothing important.

Next up was the school.

The student body painted just as chaotic an image of the boy's home dimension as the mall patrons had. It seemed at first that Rob wasn't actually present in any of the various school-centered memories until Bill noticed the consistent presence of a grotesque (in his rather hypocritical opinion) blue-skinned monocular student in a near-identical outfit. It occurred to him that maybe something happened to change the kid's appearance, but what? He had no frame of reference, no glimpses into this guy's life to guide him through the dreamscape. He was supposed to be in control, and yet here he was, blindly looking for something of consequence in a sea of apparent irrelevance. Just then the school shifted and distorted around him. The students vanished. The floor caved in. Every door in the hallway fell away- all but one. The superintendent's office?

-

The superintendent's office was still intact, and so were the machines! It had been a perilous path around several unstable 'potholes' (read: holes in the floor that led down into the abyss) and through at least one crowd of pitchfork-wielding war paint-wearing children, but he was here, and he could reclaim- and hopefully resell- his wares. While he loaded them back into the van, he checked the tires for any signs that one of the kids had been stupid enough to stand in his way, and thankfully found nothing. Not that getting run over would have killed most of them. Most of them had survived worse.

The driver wandered around the sales floor and checked inventory. None of the contained items had breached their cases, there were no mysterious liquids on the floor, everything was-

His eyes grew wide as his gaze fell upon his media shelf, where one of the DVDs for sale was conspicuously missing.

-

The superintendent's office had four tall cages in it and nothing else. They were covered by dark cloths like museum exhibits yet to be unveiled. The room was silent. When he yanked down the coverings, he found that there were four frozen figures, one in each cage- three versions of Rob and one older human man in a suit. Was this a memory? What kind of weird life had Rob lived?

A few moments later, when nothing happened, Bill turned to leave, only to be interrupted by a voice from the second cage.

"Let us out!" said memory-Rob #2. "Don't just float there! What's wrong with you?"

He turned around, unsure what exactly was going on.

"We can hang out! Maybe talk about friend stuff," suggested memory-Rob #1.

"Friend stuff? How naive. None of us are friends here. We have disavowed friendship," said memory-Rob #3 in a deep, English-accented voice. "You ought to let me out and keep the others imprisoned-"

"NO!" yelled #2.

"That really sucks of you to suggest!" yelled #1. "Seriously, man?"

"Calm down, calm down. Who, uh, who are you guys? And who's that?" Bill pointed to the human, whose gaze was silent and intense.

"I'm Rob," said memory-Robs #1 and #2 at the same time in happy and angsty tones, respectively.

"I'm Dr. Wrecker," said memory-Rob #3.

"No, he's Rob too," said the human, finally. "We all are."

"What, you're also a Rob?" Bill crossed his arms.

"It's a rather long story."

"I'll find out one way or another. Are you guys, what, alternate personalities?"

"We're all just parts of the mind," offered Rob #3. "I know full well that I've moved on from this identity, and yet it lingers within me, as me. Try not to think too hard about it."

The others nodded.

"We can still be friends!" said #1. Bill promptly pulled the cloth back over his cage and he went silent like a canary, but none of the others protested.

"What would happen if I bent the bars and let you out?"

"How should we know, man?" said #2.

"You're the master of the mind. You tell us," said #3- Wrecker?

"Doing something so reckless would earn you detention- I mean, excuse me, interfere with the natural functioning of my mind," said human-memory-Rob. " Regardless of the immature prattling of-"

"Who are you calling immature?"

"You're a child-"

"You're also a child! We're all a child!"

"I like to think of myself as an adult," offered Wrecker, and he earned death stares from #2 and the human one.

"Uh, do you guys want me to-"

Before Bill could finish his sentence, both of the non-Wrecker Robs nodded, and Bill took that as a sign to cover Wrecker's cage.

"You being in my head makes me uncomfortable," said #2.

"Tough luck. You let me in."

"Fair enough," said #2, pulling the cloth into his cage and covering himself up. Bill and the human were left in the office, staring at each other with mutual contempt.

"You have overstayed your welcome. I suggest you leave my office this instant."

"Your office? You're the superintendent? How old is Rob, anyways?"

"That's a matter of how you count."

"What's that supposed to-"

"13," said Superintendent Rob. "not that I would admit it."

"13 and he's looked like you before?"

"How would you like to have two eyes?" said Superintendent Rob, raising an eyebrow and speaking in a sinister tone.

Bill left the room before he could even wonder about what that threat meant.

Glimpses of silent memories stored in the junkyard and assorted houses made one thing clear: there was something that was, even here in his target's mind, being kept from him. Nearly ever memory featured at least one figure whose features were obscured by static. Sometimes more. This figure was the target of Rob's ire more often than not, but it was difficult to figure out what was happening with no sound, and so far none of the memories had contained any TV remotes for Bill to use. As he approached the wall beyond which things looked unfinished, he entered one final house, recounting everything he could now say he knew about Rob.

The boy was a career criminal with hijacking, kidnapping, and destruction of property on his rap sheet. He was good at making traps, but perhaps not good at using them. Much of his time- in fact, the vast majority of his time- was spent plotting to destroy and/or trying to destroy a mysterious figure whose form had been scrubbed from memory, save for a short period of time during which he had been trying to kill a banana or two instead. His surroundings were modern. He was 13 years old. Something had changed to make him look slightly less freaky, but what exactly caused that change was unclear as of yet. There were shape people in the kid's home dimension who Bill knew from somewhere, maybe, or maybe most other triangles just looked the same.

None of that felt very useful. Sure, maybe he could use the criminal thing for blackmail, but this was in a whole different universe, and besides, this guy didn't seem like the type to be ashamed of himself. Embarrassing him also seemed like a dead end; he had been embarrassed so many times and kept getting right back up. He was the sort of person to fail 563 times in a row and not take even the slightest hit to his self-esteem. That was probably because it was already at rock bottom. The kid's ego was there, but he wasn't naive enough to make it easy to stroke. All in all: he was the furthest thing from an ideal target.

The last house was currently bare, save for a basement door that sat wide open.

-

"Sweetie, use your fingers. That's where all the grip strength is." She put her hands around his, repositioning them around the handle of the nailbat and guiding his arms in a swing. "Okay, now, go get 'em!"

He closed his eyes, gulped, and swung blindly, hitting the hastily-drawn wooden cutout of a cyborg in leather and sending it to the ground with a massive dent in its face.

"Ah!" He opened his eyes. "I did it! I didn't even hit myself with the recoil that time! YES! What do you say, Darwin, could I totally take on an army of radioactive monsters, or what? Oh, no need to answer, I know I could- AH!"

He spun the bat in celebration and smacked himself in the face with it, keeling over backwards. Meanwhile, the small rabbit in the back of the room erased the 'STREAK: 1' on the recently-established family training whiteboard and replaced it with 'STREAK: 0'.

"I don't know about you guys, but I think that was good enough to count towards my streak," said Gumball from his position on the floor. "I didn't even give myself a black eye that time! You gotta give a guy credit where credit is due."

Darwin sighed and put a gold star sticker reading 'ALMOST FINE' on his sweater.

"What, you don't even have any that say 'GREAT JOB'?"

"We're out of 'GREAT JOB'. Soon enough we're gonna have to break into the 'NOT THE WORST EVER' stickers."

"This is an emergency," he said, sitting up. "We gotta go out there!"

He scrambled for the basement stairs, but Nicole blocked his way, brandishing the nailbat.

"No family of mine is stepping out of that door until each of us can take down twenty cardboard cutouts in a row with perfect form," she growled, holding out the bat. "Now, remember-" her tone suddenly became encouraging- "the key to grip strength is using your fingers."

-

The memories in this house were fragmented and out of order. Bill moved from room to room, usually unable to see anything but the static-covered figures, who spent so much time here that it might have been their house. Was Rob related to them, or did he live here for some other reason?

Just when he thought he might complete his tour in silent mode, another TV remote, this time in the hands of one of the hidden figures, appeared in one of the glimpses of the past. He rushed forward and turned on the sound. There was very little of significance to hear, except maybe that Rob's voice was a lot deeper in this memory. Because of the remote? Was that something he could be affected by? That had a practical application. Took him long enough to find one. The static guys' voices were garbled and unintelligble.

Bill left the house the second it emptied of memories and floated before the odd wall. His attempt to simply pass through it, strangely, didn't work. He hit it like a pane of glass. After several more failures that he was glad nobody was around to see, he noticed a thin seam, stuck his hands into it, and wrenched a hole open. Was that doing damage to the kid's mind? Eh, whatever.

Before Bill could go beyond the wall, a van burst through the hole, skidded to a stop, and then pulled away, dissolving a few feet from the barrier. It was followed shortly by yet another memory-Rob. This one was freshly glitching and looking to be in pain. It got up, expressed some palpable anger, and stormed off, dissolving just as the van had; the memory was a shorter loop than most of the others. When it restarted, Bill floated through the hole and saw, to his great satisfaction, a decidedly un-glitchy Rob in the distance.

"Guys! Guys, wait for me!"

For once, he didn't need dialogue to understand what was happening. The boy had clung to the back of the van and been crunched between two sheets of the fabric of reality. Bill didn't know something like that could happen, but it held endless potential for amusement.

The area beyond the wall was sketchy and incomplete. This would have been his early childhood- the one piece of his life missing from the rest of his dreamscape- and yet there were holes here, holes where his childhood home, his parents, his entire pre-adolescence should have been. It was as if there had never been any memories here, only gaps. Why was he so bored? Why was this so cumbersome? Why did he not want to go back through all the memories with sound this time? Somewhere along the line he had missed the memory of how Rob traveled to- and then out of- the Nightmare Realm, but that could have been absolutely anywhere.

His last order of business was wandering to the forest island and floating in front of the 'NO BILL ALLOWED' sign for a good 10 dream-minutes. He would come back here. He had to. But he didn't want to spend another second in this miserable place! Not when he could be making some progress on his original plan, which was so close to fruition that he could nearly see time dying already.

He wasn't frustrated, he told himself, he was calm. He was the master of this place, and he did not get upset so easily- he thought back to the recent time he got upset pretty easily during an in-mind confrontation and then tried to stop thinking about it for the sake of his own confidence. Maybe he was frustrated! Maybe he was-

With a scream that could have passed for a human affected by a night terror, he sat up in the physical world, seething, and the real Rob was ejected once again.

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged on this by @unexpectedstormy ! I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to respond like it was a chain or make my own post, so I just went for it

1. How many works do you have on A03?

Two. There will be more coming, because Blood Drops on Roses is just arc one of this story, and there's a lot of snippets for Prologue floating around.

Blood Drops on Roses: Linked Universe

BDOR Prologue: The Yiga and The Sheikah

2. What's your total A03 word count?

51,493 words since mid-August, when I finally got an account XD I've been a lurker for YEARS ya'll.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Linked Universe only, so far.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

See above XD I hope to get enough fics out there that I can sort my work like that, but for now it's just those two.

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

Yes, I respond as soon as I can, they are like crack to me. Maybe because I'm new to sharing my work or something, but I would die for each and every one of you that leaves even as much as a <3

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

NONE OF MY FICS ARE FINISHED YET AAAAAAAAAA. Arc 1's ending is going to be pretty angsty though.

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

Hm, I see that this questionnaire is not meant for me. There is a Prologue section "The Trap" that I'll be putting out soon through, its ending is pretty sweet I would say.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet. I am afraid that it's gonna happen, but so far everyone has been so nice, so I hope not D:

9. Do you write smut?

Nah. Don't really read it either. Just not my thing.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I mean unless you count LU as a crossover between all the Link's respective fandoms, no

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Gosh I hope not. How does one steal a fic?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. If I ever get good enough at Spanish, I would like to take a crack at translating my own fic once its all published, but it would probably be laughably terrible. Eh, practice is practice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet. Hey @needfantasticstories, I think Clippy Wind and Pug Sky need to go on some adventures together, don't you?

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

Tbh I don't really ship. I do think Malon/Time and Legend/Ravio are cute though. I'm just not really interested in exploring the romantic side of stories, even in published literature.

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

Geez I hope that I finish all of Arc 2 at this point. But I may be too early into the game to answer this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Heck if I know. I had someone say in my comment section that they liked how I characterize people, so we'll go with that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too much and probably in too much detail. Sometimes it would be better to say "They crossed the bridge and set up camp" but nooooooooooo lets add 7,000 words to this already bloated fic.

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

Italics. I was about to whip out my decade of Latin for part of this fic, but I decided against it because I'm pretentious but not that pretentious. Also because I still don't understand word order at ALL.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Now that I'm thinking about it, I think I have some fanfic from the dog series of Warrior Cats lurking somewhere that I wrote when I was like 12. Survivors, or something? I should probably go delete it, I'm sure it's trash. I'm scared to even look, it probably hasn't seen the light of day since I wrote it.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Well I've only got one big fic out right now so let's go with BDOR

@needfantasticstories and @somer-writes I'm kicking this your way.

[aozoratomarry]

i don't know where else to post it but it's September and i have a lot of thoughts. (tw: suicide)

It’s suicide prevention month.

I released a game a few months ago about a real suicide attempt. It was supposed to be my first time opening up about the subject.  I can’t begin to explain how much courage it took me to be able to post it, let alone go back to that difficult time in my life and put it into words (and sound, and art…)

The game included some hard-hitting lines about a child expressing how they feel alone, how the adults around them don’t listen to them, how they don’t know to ask for help.

Keeping the comments open was a mistake.

“Why is this game so dark?”

“Why doesn’t it end with a message of hope?”

“I think it would’ve been better if it had a happy ending.”

I took the game down.

It felt as if I was, yet again, not being listened to. As if what I tried to express was not heard, and if it was, no care was put into understanding it.

I wonder why a game made by a suicide survivor, about a suicide attempt, doesn’t end with a message of hope?

Having (what I felt like were) my heartfelt experiences be questioned like that upset me deeply. I took the game down and considered deleting it forever.

Why should this work exist? For people to toss it away?

My friends convinced me to keep it archived somewhere, and I did. But I can’t play it again. I can’t think of it.

I’ve clammed up about the subject even further, in real life, therapy, online, everywhere. Releasing that game didn’t help, it only made it worse.

I thought making videogames was a safe way for me to share my experiences, and that was naïve, I realize now. It’s not a safe space, not when you put it out to the public.

I was just lucky that my previous projects were received with care and warmth. The spell was bound to break at some point, and that was it.

This suicide prevention month, let’s listen to survivors, respect their experiences and how they choose to share them, and put a modicum of thought into what we say to them.

It’s a sensitive subject. Saying something careless, even if by accident, even with good intentions, can impact a survivor’s life in huge ways. I know it did mine, I'm still recovering.

“Why doesn’t it end with a message of hope?”

Geez, Louise, I wonder why.

[ageless-aislynn]

As I'm drawing to a close on Mass Effect: Andromeda, I originally planned on going on straight into the Mass Effect Legendary Edition (comprising the remastered original trilogy of ME). But I'm finding myself inexplicably dragging my feet the closer that I get to that point.

Annnnnnnd it just tonight dawned on me why.

Big-time spoilers for the original Mass Effect trilogy and Andromeda beneath the cut.

In Andromeda, nothing you do will get your squadmates killed. I don't ever have to worry about them, no matter what choices I make. But in the original, I've been seeing that that is very much not the case. You can get multiple members or even your entire squad killed. You can apparently make choices in the first 2 games that you'll seriously regret carrying over into the third. I can't tell you how many times I've come across people saying something like, "Yeah, so that was so horrible in 3 that I had to go back and replay the first 2 games just to get a better outcome!"

Friends. That does not sound like fun to me. That sounds like stress. I do not need more stress in my life. And I'm just the sort of foolish sap who will be seriously bothered by getting my squadmates killed or by ending up with horrible consequences because I don't know what I'm doing. So I hear people saying things like, "You HAVE to play it through the first time as blind as possible and live with the consequences of your choices!" and I cannot tell you how absolutely horrible that sounds to me. 😭

So I either have to obsessively chart my way through 3 games so I don't get anybody killed who is savable (and I know there are some who aren't no matter what you do *is looking at Virmire right now, for starters* 😱) or every choice will be a horrible, stressful moment for me.

I know a lot of people complained that the consequences of your choices in Andromeda are too light or even non-existent. I can't tell you the utter relief I felt when I realized that most of my choices might color the dialogue of how people respond to me but, ultimately, they don't matter. Whatever's going to happen is usually going to happen anyway. And I like that a lot. I WANT low consequence choices. I don't want reality. Reality sucks, quite frankly. I want my squad all with me at the end, whether or not I'm lousy at magically knowing the right choice to make.

And hey, if you like it the other way, that your choices have true weight and consequence, I'm definitely not suggesting you're wrong. It's just not for me. At least, not right now.

So, I'm thinking of going with a different game next. I have a bunch in my Steam library now, so I may do some researching to see what might just give me some fun, non-stressful play. (Post showing my Steam library, if you have an recommendations. 😉)

I feel oddly guilty about putting the OT off, especially in light of how much I truly love Andromeda and how much I've been looking forward to playing the OT. But, mannnnn, I'm honestly struggling with stress, depression and anxiety a LOT in real life right now and I don't want to add to that.

Geez, I feel like such a total lightweight right now, though. 😕

Anyway, if you read all of that, thanks. 💖

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged on this by @unexpectedstormy ! I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to respond like it was a chain or make my own post, so I just went for it

1. How many works do you have on A03?

Two. There will be more coming, because Blood Drops on Roses is just arc one of this story, and there's a lot of snippets for Prologue floating around.

Blood Drops on Roses: Linked Universe

BDOR Prologue: The Yiga and The Sheikah

2. What's your total A03 word count?

51,493 words since mid-August, when I finally got an account XD I've been a lurker for YEARS ya'll.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Linked Universe only, so far.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

See above XD I hope to get enough fics out there that I can sort my work like that, but for now it's just those two.

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

Yes, I respond as soon as I can, they are like crack to me. Maybe because I'm new to sharing my work or something, but I would die for each and every one of you that leaves even as much as a <3

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

NONE OF MY FICS ARE FINISHED YET AAAAAAAAAA. Arc 1's ending is going to be pretty angsty though.

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

Hm, I see that this questionnaire is not meant for me. There is a Prologue section "The Trap" that I'll be putting out soon through, its ending is pretty sweet I would say.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet. I am afraid that it's gonna happen, but so far everyone has been so nice, so I hope not D:

9. Do you write smut?

Nah. Don't really read it either. Just not my thing.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I mean unless you count LU as a crossover between all the Link's respective fandoms, no

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Gosh I hope not. How does one steal a fic?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. If I ever get good enough at Spanish, I would like to take a crack at translating my own fic once its all published, but it would probably be laughably terrible. Eh, practice is practice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet. Hey @needfantasticstories, I think Clippy Wind and Pug Sky need to go on some adventures together, don't you?

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

Tbh I don't really ship. I do think Malon/Time and Legend/Ravio are cute though. I'm just not really interested in exploring the romantic side of stories, even in published literature.

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

Geez I hope that I finish all of Arc 2 at this point. But I may be too early into the game to answer this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Heck if I know. I had someone say in my comment section that they liked how I characterize people, so we'll go with that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too much and probably in too much detail. Sometimes it would be better to say "They crossed the bridge and set up camp" but nooooooooooo lets add 7,000 words to this already bloated fic.

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

Italics. I was about to whip out my decade of Latin for part of this fic, but I decided against it because I'm pretentious but not that pretentious. Also because I still don't understand word order at ALL.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Now that I'm thinking about it, I think I have some fanfic from the dog series of Warrior Cats lurking somewhere that I wrote when I was like 12. Survivors, or something? I should probably go delete it, I'm sure it's trash. I'm scared to even look, it probably hasn't seen the light of day since I wrote it.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Well I've only got one big fic out right now so let's go with BDOR

Skip Breaker get over here and do this

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @the-real-azalea-scroggs! Had to wait until I was of my phone because doing these is a nightmare on mobile lmao

1. How many works do you have on A03?

18 as of a few days ago!

2. What's your total A03 word count?

60,763! Which is. Only a fraction of the word count in my Docs folder. Be prepared.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I mainly write for The Legend of Zelda; specifically Linked Universe! In fact, that's all that's posted on my Ao3 currently, since my fall into that fandom began with me uploading there! Pre-Ao3 I wrote for Black Cat (Anime/Manga), Megaman NT Warrior, various Pokémon things, Assassin's Creed, Yugioh, Final Fantasy XIV and Octopath Traveler! Some of these I still write privately, but I haven't gotten around to re-posting any.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Whistling on Deaf Ears - My longest fic on Ao3, focusing on Wild and Twilight's friendship and how good intentions can lead to disaster.

Iconoclasm - Warriors deals with the room full of portraits in Cia's palace. The Chain also deals with it, but with a bit more fire.

Deserving - Twilight finally tells Rusl that he was the wolf in the village during TP, but that also means dealing with some heavier topics. Colin half overhears them and forms his own conclusions.

Something Greater - The start of the "Hyrule can see magical auras" series! In this one we deal with Legend and his many rings.

Ocean Magic - Mermaid Legend and Zora Time have a race and then fight one of the Big Octos from WW! Fun times.

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

Every single one!! I love comments, they give me an excuse to ramble about my fic more!! I am always down to ramble about every single insignificant detail of any line and/or section. If you ever want more background info about one of my fics, look to the comments! So please, I adore comments, I treat them like treasures, not responding to them would be a CRIME.

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

There's no contest; Inevitable, my (so far) only MCD fic.

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

Hmmm, that's hard to quantify. I usually try to end fics on a hopeful note regardless. I'd say possibly either Deserving, where Twilight reconnects with his family, or Shimmering Blue, Striking White, where Time meets the Fierce Deity settled down on Satori Mountain and they both get closure.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no! I've been blessed with mostly amazing and patient readers, even when my upload schedule isn't the best.

9. Do you write smut?

No, not really. I've attempted it, but I'm too asexual for it lol

10. Do you write crossovers?

Very, very rarely. Mostly privately, and only very specific ones. Only a single one has had an actual plot, so far (more on that one in question 15!).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also a nope! I tend to write for smaller fandoms, where these things don't tend to happen a lot!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! But it's been a while. Over a decade, in fact! I tried to find the fic to link it here, but it was on the German fanfic website fanfiktion.de, and my friend who posted it back then must have deactivated her account, because it's nowhere to be seen (I still have the Word file though!). It was a Multi-Crossover that started as an RP in a forum, and we took turns turning the RP into prose one chapter each. "If a Hero Turns to Dark" was its title. We were edgy teenagers.

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

Hissssss. Bad question. Shoo. They are all equally important!! But it's probably TenRose from Doctor Who.

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

One of the very few crossovers I've ever worked on; a crossover fic between Assassin's Creed and Doctor Who, that I have mapped out in both chronological and timeline order, and yes, those are different. I only ever wrote about a quarter of it, since my primary audience of it disappeared when we graduated. I doubt I'll ever pick it back up properly, and if I do it'll probably go through heavy rewrites first since it's so old. Finishing it is a nice thought, but realistically, after 9 years it'll never be high priority enough for it to actually happen.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, especially arguments, and emotional impact. I've been told I do really well making characters feel alive and believable! Also I like to believe I'm decent at setting a scene and giving it the vibe I want it to have!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle with dialogue tags when nothing much is happening besides the talking. I always feel it's too bland, and fall back on the same phrases. My scene transitions could use some work too.

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

I've done this with Japanese phrases, because I was a massive weeb. Usually I followed them up with their own translations, though; I'm not the biggest fan of footnote translations, unless they are properly linked to. Simple dialogue tags are my favourite way of indicating a language switch.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Black Cat the Manga/Anime! It's a series about an assassin turned bounty hunter trying to live a life separate from his murdery past, but getting dragged back into things by still wanting to avenge his best friend's death. The series has a special place in my heart and my bookshelf, it left an imprint on 13-year-old me that will never leave.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Probably Jailbreak, uncharacteristically enough! It's one of the only fics I never got stuck in once. Writing it was a great feeling from start to finish. I love writing all of my fics, but that was a special few days.

Tagging @ahrva @nowhere-to-go-but-down @silvercaptain24 and @aeghina! And anyone who wants to do it, really, go wild

[sleepdeprivedsloth]

OMG YES you don't understand how excited it makes me to see your requests open! I've been waiting for this moment for so long!! XD I would freakin LOVE to see what you do with Hinata and Kageyama! I personally prefer their platonic relationship and lee Kageyama has my whole heart, but I'd be 100% happy with whatever you decide to do!! For the numbers, maybe #6 and #19? Thanks so much for opening requests! I'm so excited you don't understandddd!!! <3 (Also I hope you feel better soon! ^^)

a/n: thank you so much for all the kind words!! ik it's been a (very long) while since the last time i posted, and i sincerely apologize for the wait! I"M SO GLAD THAT YOU REQUESTED PLATONIC KAGEYAMA AND HINATA BC THEIR FRIENDSHIP WAS SO FUN TO WRITE IN THIS!! hope you all enjoy :)

Someone Admitting Something

[Haikyuu - Hinata, Kageyama]

words: 1.4 k

#6: “Don’t you even dare touch me…”

#19: “Geez! You sure do squirm a lot!”

--

Some setter you turned out to be. Kageyama winced at the internal criticism, his movements sluggish as he packed up his belongings in the club room. Can’t even control something as simple as your timing.

It wasn’t even a real game, just another practice match against Seijoh, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t matter. Kageyama was off his game right from the start; the ball sat uncomfortably in his hands at every serve, his fingers clumsy with every set. He was losing more points than gaining, until he was benched and Sugawara subbed in for him. After Suga came into the picture, Karasuno was luckily able to turn the match around and earn a win against Abajo Sai. No thanks to Kageyama.

Why are you even on the team when you can’t help out during a match? Kageyama closed his eyes and sighed, feeling completely and utterly defeated.

“What’s taking you so long, slowpoke?” Kageyama’s eyes snapped open at the voice. Looking around, he realized that he and none other than Hinata Shoyo were the last two left. “Are you trying to race me to see who can take the longest to leave?!”

Kageyama looked back to Hinata with the most deadpan expression he could manage, hoping that his face was conveying just how stupid this thought was.

Unfortunately, the message went straight over the ginger’s head. “Ha! I accept your reverse-race challenge! Prepare to lose, Crappyama!” he exclaimed as he bent over to start untying his shoelaces in a slow motion type manner.

Kageyama only shook his head and continued to pack his things away, for once ignoring the childish competition proposed by his teammate.

“Kageyama?” Hinata asked, beginning to sense that something was off. The Kageyama he knew would never turn down a chance to one-up him, even if it was something as silly as a slow-mo race. “You doing okay, dude?”

“Do you prefer me or Sugawara?”

Utterly confused, Hinata could only respond with, “Huh??”

Kageyama looked down, his bangs covering over his eyes. “As a setter. Do you prefer to hit sets from me or Suga?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one! I prefer both of you!” Hinata replied, not missing a beat. “You guys are both super talented and experienced, so there’s no way I could only choose one of you.”

“Even after today?” Kageyama spoke barely above a whisper, his voice quieted by shame and regret. “Even after I was so useless to the team that Coach put me on the bench?”

Suddenly, Kageyama felt a pair of arms wrap around his lower ribs from behind him in a tight embrace. After the initial flinch from the unexpected contact, he looked back and saw a mess of orange hair pressed against his spine.

“Is this sad mood really because of the practice match?” Hinata mumbled into Kageyama’s back, sending shivers to run through the ravenette’s body. “It was one off day, dude. One bad game doesn’t determine your worth as a setter, especially when you’ve had so many great and amazing days!”

Kageyama shrugged away from Hinata’s hug and turned to face his teammate, raising his voice to argue, “All of those other days don’t matter if I can’t give you a good set when it actually counts!”

Throwing his arms exasperatedly into the air, Hinata was quick to shout back. “That’s why you have a whole team to back you up, stupid! If you give a bad set, the spikers will adjust. If your serves suck ass, we’ll prepare to go on the defense. If you’re feeling off your game, the team’s got your back! Coach didn’t put you on the bench because he thinks that you’re a bad setter, otherwise you wouldn’t be on the starting lineup! Suga subbed in for you to help out. That’s what a team does, for crying out loud!”

Kageyama could only stare into Hinata’s eyes, mouth slightly agape out of shock. He certainly didn’t expect to be lectured into feeling better. But the setter had to admit: his teammate wasn’t wrong.

“You got that, Sulkyama?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Kageyama breathed out, snapping out of his thoughts with a teasing smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Shorty.”

Hinata crossed his arms in front of his chest and spoke with a playful sternness, “I don’t want a ‘thank you,’ I want you to admit it is okay for everyone to have bad days.”

With his usual, competitive attitude having returned, Kageyama challenged, “Isn’t my ‘thanks’ good enough for you? No way you’re getting my gratitude and me admitting anything as silly as that.”

“Oh yeah?” Hinata asked with a raised eyebrow, taking a step closer to his friend. “I bet I could make you.”

“Mhm, and how would you manage to do that?”

“I have my ways,” the ginger teased, raising his hands up and wiggling his fingers threateningly towards Kageyama.

The ravenette’s eyes widened, a wobbly smile already finding a place on his flustered face, knowing from experience what Hinata’s go-to cheer up tactic was. Backing away slowly, Kageyama warned, “Don’t you even dare touch me, you human tanger-IHIHIHIHINE! Nohohohoho!”

Before he could even finish, the shorter boy had rushed over and latched his hands onto Kageyama’s sides, wiggling all ten of his fingers into the sensitive flesh. And poor Kageyama had no time to even try and resist the bouts of laughter that started to flow out of him. Curse Hinata’s stupidly fast reflexes!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that over your helpless laughter,” the ginger teased, moving his hands down to squeeze at Kageyama’s hips. The ravenette’s knees buckled as he slid down to the floor, but nevertheless Hinata’s ever-relentless squeezes followed. “Is there something you wanna admit for me, Sulkyama?”

“NahaHAHAhaha!!” Kageyama writhed underneath Hinata’s hands from his position on the floor, but despite his best efforts, he just couldn’t dislodge his friend’s torturous hands from his hips. “Gehehet your hands OHOHOFFA MEHEHEHE! Thehehere’s nothing to admiHIHIHIT!”

Hinata stopped his squeezes, but kept his hands firmly in place holding Kageyama down as he clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “Nothing? Huh, that’s weird,” he spoke as his hands slithered down to rest on top of the ravenette’s thighs.

Kageyama’s breath hitched from the subtle contact, eyes widening in a giddy horror. “W-wait, no-”

“Because I could’ve sworn that someone needed to admit something,” Hinata gave a small squeeze to Kageyama’s thighs, watching with a smirk as the taller boy shrieked with a full body jolt. “And y’know what? This would be a perfect time to admit something before someone gets tickle-tickled somewhere that’s a little too tickle-ticklish~”

“Nohohoho!!” Kageyama’s hands grabbed desperately at Hinata’s, trying anything to get them off of him. Just the mere presence of those small torturous squeezers on his thighs was enough to make him giggle uncontrollably. “Nohohot thehehere! Plehehease, anywhere-”

“Anywhere but here?” Hinata teased with a few quick pinches. “Poor, ticklish Tobio. Whatever shall he do?”

“Nahahahaha, stahahahahahap!!”

“You know what I wanna hear, Ticklyama!” Finished with the taunting touches, Hinata grabbed onto the outer sides of Kageyama’s thighs and dug in with all his might, wiggling his fingers deep into the flesh.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONOHOHOHOHO!” Kageyama’s legs began kicking spontaneously, his waist bucking up into the air in a fruitless attempt to lessen the strong tickly sensations traveling throughout his entire lower body. “STAHAHAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEASE, I-IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!”

“Geez, Kageyama! You sure do squirm a lot!” Hinata exclaimed playfully, keeping a firm grip on his friend’s legs. “You know how to make me stop, just stop being so damn stubborn!”

“OKAHAHAY FIHIHINE!!” Kageyama gathered up all of his remaining strength and admitted in a single breath, “EVERYOHONE HAS BAHAHAD DAHAHAYS AND THAHAT’S OKAHAHAY!! NOW STOHOHOP!”

“Hmm, how about you also admit that you have a stupid face?” the ginger teased.

“SHOHOHOHOYO!!”

“Okay, okay, i guess you’ve had enough,” Hinata spoke with a fond smile, taking his hands off of Kageyama’s thighs after a few final pinches. After bouncing back onto his feet, he extended a hand towards his giggly friend and helped him off of the ground. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, thahahanks,” Kageyama nodded his head as the last of his chuckles and titters slipped out. “Yohou can really be a little shihihit sometimes, you knohow that?”

“Oh please, you know you love it~”

“What?! Take that back, you turd face!”

“NAHAHAHA!! Wahahait, Kageyamahaha, I take it back! I TAHAHAKE IT BAHAHACK!!”

--

a/n: thanks for reading everyone! life update post coming soon :)

[greycappedjester]

Hi I'm so sorry I'm just too shy to ask this on ao3 but I was wondering: how is Slade's relationship with Dick? I don't mind them as a ship in general but in the story sometimes I feel like Slade gets too close to Dick and I thought if there was something platonic on his side? I'm sure you wouldn't do that in the story that's why I'm asking if it's only on Slade's side. Sorry if this is a stupid question lol. Maybe it's just because I've read sl/adedick fics before. ^^D

Nah, I’ve actually been waiting for someone to ask about that. So....it’s complicated and will take awhile to explain so I’m putting it under a Read More before I get too long winded with my character headcanons:

This is going to get soooooo long, lol, so feel free to skim. Warning for Gotham in general and Gotham being naturally a bad place for kid vigilantes to grow up in. Also because this explanation gets somewhat dark in character interpretation....

Bonus short story at the end after a really long post.

-------

Alright, so first, I feel like I should mention again that I never watched the Teen Titans animated show past maybe the first two episodes and the movie my friends wanted me to watch that I don’t really remember. (I meant to watch that show, just never got around to it). I say this because I heard that the Teen Titans TV show portrayed the Dick and Deathstroke relationship much differently in a way that’s cool and fine but not something I can see myself really wanting to write about. I know their relationship more from comics where Dick was already an adult (albeit a young adult) when he first met Slade. 

So. Back to my After the Fall of Olympus universe and yeah, I’m slowly getting to my answer. The thing is....the story is entirely in Dick’s POV right now.

And Dick’s absolutely terrible at reading and picking up any form of affection others have for him. He understands it abstractly (he knows people care) but when assessing, he critically underestimates it if he remembers to account for it at all. This goes even worse with people he’s closer to--which is why it took him forever to realize why Jason actually did want to stay with him at the manor and why he still has no idea Barbara is in love with him. Even Kory who was really, really direct about liking him, it took him years to fully emotionally process and respond to that. He’s getting better...but remembering his own value (in others eyes) isn’t something he’s overwhelming good at doing.

My headcanon, he is abnormally good at reading people and picking up basic sexual attraction. He’s good at telling when he’s being flirted with or when people are attracted to him and, honestly, Dick’s charismatic and instinctively a flirt, too.With that, partly from growing up in Gotham with its weird and supremely dark villains, I think Dick very much divorces the two concepts of romantic attraction and sexual flirting in his mind--he’s aware they can go together, obviously with Kory--but he doesn’t naturally pair them as other people probably would. It’s also part of why he just doesn’t get the level of concern Tim has about Catalina.

Okay, back to my point.

The way I write Slade and Dick’s relationship is actually mostly done off screen. But, I think Slade started with approval of Dick’s skills and potential in a clinical/objective view, growing respect and interest (personal but not at all romantic) in him as a person, and much more recently in the story (as in that last conversation he had in Ch. 18), I think Slade realized he has some legitimate attraction and cares a lot about Dick in a way that’s probably romantic.

Slade also is very, very aware immediately that he’s not going to do anything with that and, in a way, doesn’t want to because Dick ever responding to that would be jeopardizing his relationship with his family, his team, his view of his morals (which are so integral to Dick) in a way that would be exceptionally out of character and concerning coming from Dick. In other words, something happening would be a lot more terrifying than nothing happening and Slade cares.

For Dick, it’s a lot more simple. He does not have any romantic feelings there. He does in a somewhat analytical, unconscious way recognize that Slade’s probably attracted to him (probably before Slade noticed honestly) but he’s....well, kind of used to that at some level. More so, Dick doesn’t connect it to emotional care and--like with everyone else--vastly underestimates that Slade does care about him in a way that’s actually pretty selfless for a mercenary. For a romance, your guess is absolutely right, it’s not going to go anywhere in this series but I wanted the undertones and implications to be there in the final third of the story

....But, that’s also more of a later/recent development in that relationship. For most of the story that’s posted so far, Slade sees his relationship with Dick as a lot of respect and even care but not as romantic in any way. I can promise no romantic undertones at all until Dick was already in his 20s because I really, really am not interested in writing underage. (for those curious about Slade’s age in the story, I think of him as mid-20s in his introduction in Year 3 and pretty early 30s here to Dick’s early 20s)

Above everything, they respect each other and would be almost friends if that were possible.

The team and his family doesn’t know any of this.

Anyway, that was long, so here’s a bonus short story from Slade’s view. I write a lot of After the Fall of Olympus short stories in other charcter’s views that I’m not planning on posting until After the Fall of Olympus.

This one’s between Year 5 and 6 and is titled “October 7th”:

-------

It’s October 7th, almost two in the morning, and Slade’s camped out in a somehow still standing bombed out apartment in a no-name village in the middle of a war-torn country.

He’s not exactly expecting visitors.

There’s a knock on the apartment door.

Slade cocks his gun and puts two rounds in the door before, for good measure, adding matching ones on either side of the frame.

He has two seconds to let himself pretend that’s the end of it before the door knob turns to the unmistakable sound of a skilled lock pick. 

Fuck, he’s too tired for this shit today. 

“Geeze, Slade, what if I’d been an innocent civilian?”

Slade’s hand stills on the gun in surprise then consideration before slowly slipping it back into the holster. 

“Kid,” he greets. “There’s no innocent civilians left around here. ‘Specially ones that can make it to my door without me hearing any footsteps.”

“I’ve been working on that.” Dick says, walking into the apartment. He isn’t even wearing his uniform, just plain black military style clothes with the lower half of his face covered by a piece of cloth. He pushes it down and smiles as he presses the door shut behind him. “You did tell me to get better, after all.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” he mutters without much heat. “You getting better almost left me out of a job.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Please, as if both of us don’t know Luthor could’ve gotten out of those charges in months. If the Light didn’t erase them for him, anyway.”

Slade shrugs. Maybe another time, he’d find the energy to banter back. But not today. Never today.

“Why are you here, Dick? How’d you find me?”

The smile slides off of Dick’s face, leaving behind those far too heavy eyes to belong to an eighteen year old.

“You know I have your file, Slade.” Dick clears his throat. “I know what day it is.”

….Fuck.

It’s not like he expected anything else. Not since the moment he saw the kid. But, still...he doesn’t want to deal with this. Doesn’t want to deal with anything. Today, he just wants to crawl back into the worst, most deserted corner of the world he can find until the hours creep passed and he can find the energy to move.

Instead, he glares. “Good for you. Now get the fuck out, kid.”

Dick grimaces but shakes his head. “Not until you answer a question for me.”

Slade groans and, for a handful of seconds, honestly contemplates just killing him, considers it in a way that he hasn’t since before he even met the kid, back when he was first handed a file by a practically no name organization called H.I.V.E.

He’d regret it later. Sure. He has too much he wants to see out of the kid to kill him in a shitty, dusty apartment. But, that regret would come later. Later, once this day had finally passed.

That alone is almost enough to have him reaching for his gun. Almost

“Grayson,” he finally grounds out, “if you know what day it is, you know I’m not exactly inclined to play our game of hero and villain right now. You want information, find someone else.”

“Good, I’m not here to play either. Only problem is I can’t ask anyone else, you're the only one who knows the answer.” Dick lowers himself to sit on the floor across from him, like a particularly stupid mouse in front of a viper.

And then, he looks up and his eyes are too steady to belong to prey.

“Here’s the question: Do you really want to be alone today, Slade?”

The breath catches in Slade’s`lungs, harsher than if the kid had just punched him.

He pushes the reaction down, already knowing it’s too late, and says in the steadiest voice he can manage, “Yes.”

Dick stares at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”

The air around them is too tight, too burning, and Slade’s being pushed down under it to suffocate. 

He can’t fight it, so he takes it and pushes it back into anger. “The fuck, kid! What do you know?  You said you have my file, yeah? How long have you had it? Because I’m betting you’ve had it since we first met!” He lunges forward. “So, why are you here now, Dick? What makes this year so special? What’s made you decide to pretend to care now? Because whatever it is, kid, I can promise you, I’m not worth it. So, leave!”

By the end, he’s gripping Dick’s shirt, pulling it tighter until the collar has to be digging painfully into his neck. 

Dick doesn’t look away. “No.”

Slade doesn’t look away either. “You know I really think I might kill you right now.”

“You won’t.”

 One of Slade’s hands moves until it’s pressing into the kid’s neck. A single sharp twist and he could snap it. “So sure?”

Dick nods.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I brought your favorite whiskey.”

A brown bag is pressed into Slade’s ribs and the man feels something rising in his chest that could possibly be laughter if it was some other time.

He drops the kid.

He takes the bag.

“Pretty sure heroes aren’t supposed to be contributing to alcoholism, kid.” He gestures to a half empty bottle of much cheaper stuff beside him.

Dick coughs, rubbing at his throat. “Please. With your metahuman metabolism, I bet you can barely feel it for an hour.”

“Depends how much I drink,” Slade counters, eyeing the bottle. “How’d you know my favorite?”

Dick shrugs. “Gotta keep some secrets to myself.”

He fishes out a spare shot glass from somewhere in the black folds of his outfit and pours a small glass for himself. 

Slade raises an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, you’re still 18, kid.”

Dick gives him an incredulous look in return. “Last time I checked, this place doesn’t have a drinking age...or a government, actually.”

Slade hums, amused, using a larger glass for himself. “True, but thought you’d be following the laws of your own birth city a little closer, hero. Gotham’s still at 21...on the record at least.”

“Technically, Gotham’s not my birth city.” Dick snorts and takes the shot. 

Slade tilts his head. “Where were you born?”

Dick pauses, thinking, before offering a sheepish smile. “You know….I actually have no idea. Somewhere in Europe, probably? I came early, the circus was still on tour. One of the lion tamers helped deliver me, used to be a doctor.”

“Always a surprise, kid,” Slade shakes his head, draining his glass. Tasting it in his mouth and pretending it’s enough to wash away the ash.

The next words come before he can stop them.  “...Adeline always wanted two kids.”

Dick goes quiet.

“Of course,” Slade says to his glass and fuck it, just fuck it,  “turns out we didn’t even get the one. Turns out I didn’t get either my wife or my son.”

Fuck, he hates October 7th.

He reaches for the whiskey, ignoring how his hand shakes. “Addy was a soldier, you know? A good one. Of all the stupid fucking ways she could go, I never thought it’d be childbirth. Maybe I should have. Always knew I’d kill her somehow.”

“You didn’t kill her, Slade,” Dick says softly.

“Sure. Whatever,” he agrees, too tired to argue. It’s not as if he hasn’t heard every variation sometime or another. It’s just right now, he can’t quite bring himself to debate about the cause when the end of it’s always going to be the same.

Dick drops the subject and the relief that Slade feels  is immense enough that it’s close to gratitude.

“What was your son’s name?”

“Grant. We were going to name him Grant.” He takes another sip. “If we had another one, we were going to name him Joseph. Or Rose for a girl.”

“Those are good names.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

Slade doesn’t answer, looking up to eye the kid over his drink. Dick sees it, holding up his own glass in acknowledgement before knocking it back.

“Why are you here, kid,” Slade asks again. “We’re not friends, pretty far fucking from it last time I checked.”

“I’ve got my reasons,” he answers calmly.

“If you’re here to make your usual sales pitch about the virtues of heroism, I really will kill you. Whiskey or not.”

Dick shakes his head. “....is it so hard to believe I just didn’t think you should be alone?”

Slade thinks his skepticism is loud enough without him needing the words.

The look Dick gives him is steady in return. “Think what you want to, Slade, I know what grief feels like. It’s a poison. It’ll kill you unless you find a way to drain it.” 

Dick looks down at his own glass and Slade gets the feeling the kid’s no longer talking about just Slade. It’s still a tossup whether he means himself or the Bat.

Either way, Slade makes sure his next smirk is particularly pointed. “And, look at you. Tracking me all the way down here to try and save my tortured soul. Such a hero.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dick says with an eye roll, pouring himself another drink

Slade cocks his head. “Speaking of, don’t all the good little heroes have school right about now.”

Dick looks up, almost sheepish. “I’m ditching my classes. Don’t tell my brothers, I’m still trying to be a good influence.”

Slade snorts and takes a particularly long swig.

A good influence. As if a single one of his stupid, fucking team doesn’t think the fricking sun shines out of the kid’s ass.

Fuck. What is Slade even doing? Sitting in a run down apartment in the middle of a warzone drinking whiskey with a too trusting kid a decade younger and that he probably should have killed years ago.

But, then, it’s always been exceedingly difficult for him to do what he should---what’s the sane and logical thing--when it comes to Dick Grayson. And, one day--when he doesn’t have the burn of booze sitting in his gut and his chest doesn’t ache like he’s been shot--Slade’s going to take a hard look at why that is.

For now, he’ll just leave it like he usually does. The kid’s too interesting to die yet. 

Dick eyes his shot glass, contemplatively. “This whiskey’s way too overpriced, Slade. It’s practically aged vodka.”

Slade finishes his off steadily. “Shows you have little taste, Grayson.”

Dick laughs and slides the bottle over. “I brought another one anyway.”

....Far, far too interesting.

[leagueofidiots]

Shigadabi, tad bit of angst but it's brief, death in game, set in current manga time for once lol

Based off of this post: https://leagueofidiots.tumblr.com/post/190065984843/leagueofidiots-lunarapocolypse

"I don't understand why you can't just play with Spinner," says Dabi. "I'm probably gonna suck at this."

"Never know until you try," says Shigaraki, starting the game up. "Besides, I trust your abilities. And even if you do suck, it'll be nice to spend time together for once." 

Dabi nods. "Fair enough." Since joining the Paranormal Liberation Front, their moments alone had been few and far between because of Dabi's habit of isolating himself when stressed and all of Tomura's new responsibilities. "What's this one called again?"

"Minecraft. It's pretty simple. You just try not to die and make stuff." He grabs his remote, prosthetic fingers clacking on the plastic. "Basic controls: mine, place, motion, direction, crafting menu, pause, map, jump," he says, pointing at various controls.

Dabi nods, catching about half of the instructions. "Yeah, okay. Uh...die how?"

"Just zombies and stuff. You'll figure it out." He quickly makes a world in normal mode instead of hard, per Dabi's request, named "my bf sucks", and starts up the videogame.

Once making it through the tutorial segment for Dabi's sake, Dabi says, " Okay, so first we should probably make a better shelter, right? I don't want to stand in a hole in the side of a mountain again tonight."

Shigaraki shrugs. "You can handle that if you want, I'm gonna go do something else. Meet up at this ugly tree at sunset, I guess?"

"Yeah, sure, okay." Dabi almost argues that building a proper shelter in one day should be a two-person job, but reminds himself that out of the two of them, Tomura's the gamer and definitely more experienced.

It does turn out to be simpler than he expected, not much more than digging down a tree for a door and digging up row after row or dirt. Suddenly he hears a wave of pathetic "meows", and glances in alarm at Shigaraki's side of the screen. " What are you doing?!?"

Shigaraki's hot bar is full of stacks of spawn eggs, which are rapidly being thrown down into a deep pool he sits in, the resulting cats floating up to a stone roof and slowly drowning. "Being more fun than you."

"That's not 'fun', you NEET, that's useless murder! Where did you even get those?!?"

Tomura chuckles. "You think I've been playing this long and haven't learned the cheat codes? Besides, you're the one that goes into alleyways to set stray thugs on fire, not me. At least mine's just pixelated cats."

Dabi rolls his eyes. "You could at least help me with the shelter here."

"It's a fifteen-by-eight two-story dirt palace, I don't think you need any help. Besides, it's a game. It's supposed to be fun. You're making this like one of Kurogiri's old---" He cuts himself off at the mention of his father figure.

Dabi glances at his boyfriend, slightly concerned, though he'll never show it. "Fine, keep drowning cats, see if I care. But at least come back with beds if you can generate stuff."

He nods, shooting off another few eggs. "Dabi, do you think we're ever gonna win this thing?" he asks, leaning onto Dabi's shoulder.

The man stiffens a little, but lets Tomura stay. "Yeah, I'm sure we can at least get something done. We've already had an influence, haven't we? I mean, All Might retired, there's been a resurgence in thinking like ours, and I don't think it'll just die down even if we do all end up dead or in custody. You've done good work," he says, continuing to place blocks onto their house.

"I hope it's worth it. I mean, yeah, we've done good things, but...I mean, first it was All for One. Then Magne died. Now Kurogiri. I'd hate to have to make any more sacrifices is all." 

He shoots another stack of spawn eggs down, then turns to his boyfriend. "How have you been since your fight with that Geten freak?"

Dabi groans. "He sucks. I'm fine. Burned the side of my face a little, but nothing so bad that Ujiko couldn't fix it."

Shigaraki nods. After a moment, he says,"How would you feel about a magma floor? It'd keep mobs out, might kill us if we're not careful though." He summons a stack with the press of a few buttons.

"Only if you let me place it. No offense, but I'm not sure you're exactly worried about survival based on the way you were murdering animals instead of helping me." Dabi says, finally done with their shelter.

"No, I wanna do it."

"Fine, I'll go get food. You could have at least drowned cows for food or something, geez." He was glad to have moved on from the heavier topics. Sure, it was kind of nice to have people to talk to about things like that, but he also didn't know how to. He doubted Tomura was any better at it, anyway.

"Alright, knock yourself out. Step carefully once you get back." The second Dabi passes over a hill on his quest, Shigaraki grins, and presses a few buttons in rapid-fire, the sky darkening instantly.

"Creep, I swear, put the sky back!" snaps Dabi, gently bumping Tomura off of his shoulder.

He snickers. "You were gonna have to deal with the mobs at some point. Don't worry, you're only about a minute from home."

Dabi huffs, and begins his return to the shelter. He cuts short when he sees a tall, black figure in his way. "What is this and how do I get rid of it?"

"Oh, that's an enderman. Don't worry, all you have to do is look at it right in the eye, it'll teleport away."

Dabi recognizes it as the thing Kurogiri was often compared to by both Tomura and Suichi, but decides not to bring it up. "That seems easy enough," he mumbles, adjusting his cursor to meet its purple gaze. There is a short yelp as the enderman nears to murder poor, trusting, innocent Dabi; and Shigaraki falls to the floor, cackling. Dabi was never playing this again.

[captainmeowvelwrites]

You Times Two (Ch.6)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 4502 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… Our infuriating bean's gone and done it now. He asked Kagami out. And our favourite superheroine, bless her heart, decided pursuing Luka isn't such a selfish idea, despite Mr Whisker's recent unveiling as Mr Hotstuff. But of course, the calm waves of clarity lasted for all of two seconds, when light-hearted Ladynoir dove down to ow-my-heart Ladrien. Our boy hasn't gotten his lady. And our bug's still without her kitty. But at least they had cake, and that's what truly matters. What will Sunshine Boy do with his lady's kind words? And how will our silly bug fare after that little moment they shared? Read on, my fellow Miraculers, and purrhaps you'll find out.

 ---

Chapter Six

Adrien dove onto his bed, the springs squeaking beneath his weight. He felt five degrees warmer, like his joy was some tangible thing, its warmth spreading through his veins, right to his fingertips.

He whirled onto his back and gazed at the high ceiling, all too aware of the grin that filled his face. He'd bet all nine of his lives it'd been there for most of patrol, given the way his cheeks ached.

And boy, did he welcome the sensation.

It meant he wasn't dreaming.

Hadn't been dreaming.

Not when she'd cracked those purrfect puns.

Not when she'd said all those wonderful things.

Not when she'd accepted him, all of him.

If somehow he was dreaming, then clichés be damned, he never wanted to wake up.

Adrien drummed his fingers against the silk sheets of his bed. As terrible as it sounded, he almost hoped for an akuma, for a way to unleash all this energy, for a chance to see her again.

For a chance to be seen again.

Not as Adrien Agreste, the well-mannered model.

Not as Chat Noir, the boisterous superhero.

Just as him.

Loud chomps echoed off the marble tiles of his bathroom, where Plagg, of course, had taken up residence in a basket of dirty laundry.

"You're such a pig, Plagg," he called, rolling his eyes. "Are we not even gonna talk about what happened tonight?" Because, geez, he needed to get this out of his system.

Plagg's tiny head popped out from a sea of clothes. "You wanna talk about tonight? You mean"—mirth coated his every word—"how you're keeping your options open, Mr Heartbreaker?"

Adrien lurched upright on his bed. "I – What?" His hands twisted around his sheets. "No way, Plagg." His voice sounded drier than two-week-old toast. "I'm… I have a date with Kagami tomorrow. I've ordered roses, booked a nice rooftop – way harder than you'd think, by the way. It's all planned out!"

Plagg drifted over, half a wheel of Camembert clasped between his paws. "Oh please," he groaned, plonking his tiny butt on the mattress. "You just spent ten minutes smiling at the ceiling."

Adrien tensed, guilt writhing in his chest. "I – I wasn't—"

"This ain't my first rodeo, kid." He downed the rest of his cheese, and garbled, "I know a lovestruck kitty when I see one."

Adrien twisted his arms across his chest, a line forming between his brows. He was well aware that, just as there'd been other Ladybugs, there'd been other Chat Noirs. He didn't know much more than that, his main source of information being the Ladyblog. Plagg had never been the sentimental sort, after all.

Still, Plagg's words clung to his mind. Was he referring to a previous time he'd pined over Ladybug? Or perhaps a former black cat?

Adrien looked at his kwami, who'd since retrieved another wheel of Camembert from his minifridge. "Plagg, is this normal?"

Plagg looked up from his spot on the bed. "Huh?" He bit a big chunk of cheese off the wheel. "Whataya talking about?"

Adrien chewed the inside of his cheek. "Is it normal for Ladybug and Cat Miraculous Holders to… have… love dramas, I guess?"

Plagg shrugged. "Ehh. It happens." He stretched across the bed, not unlike an actual cat, and dragged out a yawn. "It's not that surprising, really. Yin and yang. Opposites attract. That kinda stuff."

Adrien's eyes sunk to his sheets, and he absently smoothed any creases in sight.

Yin and yang…

When it came to relationships, Adrien had no basis for comparison. Still, he was familiar with the concept. If he wasn't, his Chinese tutor – a middle-aged man with a rather impressive moustache – would probably berate him to no end. The man often threw tidbits of Chinese history and culture into their one-on-one lessons.

Adrien gripped his chin, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

Come to think of it, Master Fu had mentioned the concept too, when he'd visited that Syren akuma.

"Tell me, Adrien"—a smile slid across the Guardian's thin lips—"are you familiar with yin and yang?"

Adrien gazed at the container in his palms, filled with a rainbow of assorted cheeses. "I, uhh… Of course, Master." He looked up from the box, meeting Master Fu's gaze. "But… why do you ask?"

Master Fu reached for Adrien's hand, and grazed a wrinkled thumb across the surface of his ring. "One cannot exist without the other." His tone, like his face, turned solemn. "Always remember that."

One cannot exist without the other…

Was that to say he and Ladybug were like yin and yang?

Push and pull?

Two halves of a whole?

He supposed that wasn't exactly inaccurate.

Ladybug creates, she takes the lead, and she's almost always careful.

Chat Noir destroys, he follows, and at times, he's reckless.

And of course, the comparisons flowed deeper still.

Adrien threw his legs over the side of the bed, elbows propped on his knees. "Opposites attract," he breathed to himself.

Plagg peered up from the cheese in his lap. "What was that?" he managed through a generous mouthful.

Adrien shook his head. "Never mind." His shoulders slumped.

Ladybug didn't share his feelings. If opposites really did attract, shouldn't that be the case?

He frowned, taunted by words his kwami had uttered just minutes ago. As much as he hated to admit it, Plagg was right. He was still gushing over Ladybug—but what was the point?

Yes, she was undoubtedly amazing.

Yes, she was one of his dearest friends.

Yes, she'd said all those lovely things to him.

But none of that changed the way she felt about him, nor how she felt about that unnamed boy.

And it didn't change the fact he had a date with Kagami tomorrow.

Adrien pursed his lips. With thoughts like these running rampant in his mind, was it really so wise to be pursuing Kagami?

He hoisted himself off the bed, a strained sigh escaping his lips. "Plagg?"

"What's up, kid?" the kwami called, still lazing on the bed.

Adrien's hands curled into fists as he marched toward his open window. "I just – I need to think, that's all."

Plagg groaned, sagging into the mattress. "Don't tell me we're going out again?"

"You and I both know I think a lot better out there than I do in here." He held up his hand, his ring gleaming in the overhead lights. "Plagg, claws out!" In a flash of pale green, leather slid up Adrien's body—and instantly, he felt lighter, freer, himself.

His tail billowed behind him as he leaped into the window frame, and scanned the shimmering cityscape. A waxing moon hung above, its milky glow dimmed by the shadows of wandering clouds. And past the high, brick wall ahead, steel lampposts illuminated a quiet street, no spectators in sight.

With no destination in mind, Chat Noir vaulted off his window and into the Parisian night.

---

The drone of late-night traffic coated the cool, evening air, as Marinette spritzed her potted plants and hummed a merry tune. She'd been grinning like a goof since downing cake with her kitty. And boy, had it been nice – wonderful, in fact – to just chill out, crack puns, and discuss mundane things.

His favourite meal was sausages with mashed potatoes, something his mother had often cooked before personal chefs came into the picture.

His favourite video game, to her surprise, wasn't Ultimate Mecha Strike III, but Mario Kart 8 Deluxe. And he'd claimed Rainbow Roads was his favourite track, to which she'd of course questioned his sanity.

As for his favourite subject, that spot went to Physics. He'd even considered making a career out of it (when she'd asked about his modelling, he'd merely said that wasn't where his passions lay).

He'd described his favourite colour as bluebell, specifically. And in the moments that followed, as Chat Noir had gazed into her eyes, her heart had transformed into a dancing candlewick, melting beneath the warmth of that… utterly breath-taking smile.

With a wistful sigh, Marinette crossed her arms atop her balcony railing, spray bottle still clutched between her fingers. Fortunately, he'd left her to ask most of the questions. Her identity was still a secret and tonight, he'd seemed more or less okay with that.

She knew that wouldn't last. Her kitty was stubborn, something she was painfully aware of, and it was only a matter of time until talk of her identity resurfaced. After all, Chat had made a fair point. What if something happened to her?

At that, memories of a fragmented moon flashed through her mind. What if she revealed her identity and something happened to him?

And what of Kagami? Adrien was clearly pursuing a relationship with her. Would unveiling herself as Ladybug come between that? Kagami was her friend, and as much as Marinette cared for Adrien, derailing what he had with Kagami wasn't really what she wanted.

No, she just wanted harmony.

And for Adrien to be happy.

Even if it wasn't with her.

Marinette heaved a sigh, slumping a little against the railing. Right now, she felt like the walking definition of "indecisive". With so many unknowns, how could she possibly make the right choice? What if she failed again and—

"Hello," came a hesitant murmur.

With a squeak, Marinette leaped back at record speed, juggling the spray bottle as though entangled in a game of hot potato. Once she had a steady grip on its handle, she lurched the plastic head toward the owner of that voice, finger on the trigger.

Green cat-eyes stared back at her, a flinch twisting the face of their owner.

She lowered her weapon, tension leaving her shoulders. "Chat Noir?"

He was perched on all fours atop a copper chimney cap. "Sorry, Marinette." He dropped to the balcony railing, just an arm's length away. "I didn't—"

"—mean to frighten me?" She offered a smile, one he returned in kind. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were doing this on purpose."

He chuckled. "This cat's not one for preying on mice. Promise." The slightest smirk he wore had her anticipating one of his infamous jests. "Speaking of which, that was quite the high-pitched squeak you did there." His smirk widened. "Purrhaps I should call you Marimouse from now on?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was one freak-out." Granted, her kitty had borne witness to a great many of her freak-outs… but he didn't know she knew that.

He snickered. "Well, I was also inspired by how you're Multimouse."

"Was Multimouse."

A faint chuckle was the only answer Chat gave her. With perfect poise, he seated himself atop the balcony railing, one leg drawn to his chest, the other dangling over the edge. He seemed to be getting comfortable. Did he plan to stay a while?

Marinette's mind drifted months into the past, and her smile grew. To think, it had been Adrien who'd dropped by her balcony that night. Adrien who'd gone out of his way to cheer her up. Adrien who'd confided in her about his love troubles.

That fact was ironic and sweet in equal measure.

Or maybe one part ironic, two parts sweet?

One part ironic, three parts sweet?

Or—

No, if she didn't stop now, she probably never would.

Marinette pressed her lips together, if only to bite back a laugh.

"So," Chat started, "it's a little late to be watering plants, isn't it?"

She didn't miss the slight, playful lilt in his voice. In fact, it had her lips quirking up at the corners. She set the bottle down on a weather-worn table and gripped her hips. "It's a little late to be scaring the pants off of unsuspecting girls, isn't it?"

He gave her a once-over, then flashed a smirk. "Speaking of which, nice pyjamas."

Marinette tensed, stealing a glance at her sleepwear. Of course, she'd reached for the dark blue ones with silhouettes of yellow cats. She jutted her nose into the air. "Just so you know, I got these before you came along."

"So, you like cats, huh?" His smirk stretched with his next words, "Cat say I blame you." He winked.

She groaned despite the grin that had slapped itself on her face. "What're you even doing here, Chat Noir?" With folded arms, she leaned against the railing and looked up at him. "Don't you have, like, more important things to do?"

Chat shrugged. "Nah. Not really." He stared skyward, any amusement now gone from his face. "I had some stuff on my mind and…" His eyes sunk to his leather-clad lap, a sigh sliding through his lips. "Let's just say, this cat hates being locked up with his thoughts."

Thoughts?

What thoughts?

Had Ladybug not reassured him as much as she'd believed?

Such questions lingered near the fringes of her mind, but prying answers out of him wasn't her place. Or rather, it wasn't Marinette's place.

"So," she drawled instead, "is this becoming, like… a regular thing? Late night visits to my balcony?"

Chat straightened where he sat. "Sorry." He reached for his staff, tucked above his tail. "I – I can—"

"No!" Marinette gripped his wrist before he could draw his staff, and he blinked down at her. "I didn't mean it like that. Really."

His eyes left hers, trailing the length of her arm to fall on her hand, still around his wrist.

Suddenly, she was all too aware of the wild hammering in her chest. Clearing her throat, she pulled that hand to her side, heat prickling her ears. "You're always welcome here, Chat Noir."

Chat smiled, resettling in his makeshift seat atop the railing. "Thanks, Marinette." He gazed at her, a familiar softness in his smile; one that slowly made its way to his eyes. "You're pretty great, y'know that?"

Marinette stared into those eyes—green, green, green—as vibrant as early spring. "So you are," she breathed, then shot ramrod straight. "I – I mean, so are you. I mean, it's – uh – the least I can do for – um – one of Paris' superheroes." She giggled, as strained as it was, and he gave a little chuckle in turn.

As a soothing silence washed over them, Marinette was reminded of the quiet, comforting lulls that often took place on their patrols, and her lips quirked up of their own accord. She glanced at her partner to find his sight set on some unseen thing. Whatever he was watching, the distance in his eyes showed he wasn't truly seeing it. Did being here, on her balcony, somehow help him to think?

She supposed that made sense. Being up here certainly helped whenever she had something on her mind.

"So," Marinette drawled, "did you, uhh… wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

He continued to stare into the distance. "It's… kinda complicated."

"Oh. Um – Fair enough." She managed a smile. "It's your private business and that's totally fine."

"No, it's not like that." He looked at her, his fingers laced around the steel fencing on which he sat. "It's just… kinda hard to explain, is all."

"Well, I've got time if you wanna give it a try." His eyes dropped, and hers followed the path they took. Only then did she realise her hand was atop his own, as though her inner-Ladybug had taken over, hoping to comfort her partner. She pulled it to her chest, red flushing her cheeks. "That is, uhh – maybe everything will make a little more sense – you know – if you put it into words?" She cleared her throat. "I mean, doing that helps me sometimes."

Chat bit his lower lip, something she shouldn’t have found so darn adorable during their current conversation. "I just… I guess, uhh…" He looked away, shrinking into his shoulders. "After what happened with Weredad, I… don't wanna make you uncomfortable with my"—he mumbled his next words—"love problems."

Marinette stilled. "Wait," she blurted out, "you're upset about love stuff?"

But wasn't he pursuing Kagami?

Oh no. Had her advice failed?

Wouldn't be the first time…

Or the second…

Or the—

"Sorry." He stooped his head low, his blond bangs skimming his mask. "Love stuff's probably all I ever seem to talk about, huh?"

"No, it's fine," she insisted, with a frantic wave of her hands. "Really. I mean, love is, umm… complicated like that."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Marinette caught herself reaching for his hand again; the moment she realised, she reached for one of her pigtails instead. "And, umm – forget about Weredad. I'm totally past that. Promise." She re-propped her arms atop the railing, if only to stop herself from reaching for him again. "If you wanna talk, I'm all ears!"

Chat pursed his lips, his eyes travelling across the darkened sky, where stars glittered like soft flicks from a paintbrush. "Well, you see"—he spared a glance her way—"I'm kinda seeing this girl. She's smart, brave, really pretty. Strong-minded too." The makings of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Actually, she's a lot like Ladybug." He huffed with amusement. "Is that bad?" A rhetorical question, it seemed, as he gave her no time to even dwell on it. "We're not official yet, but she thinks we are and… well…" That tiny smirk vanished. Instead, his shoulders sagged in time with his tail.

Marinette's brows gathered. After more than a year of akuma-fighting alongside her kitty, reading his body language was usually kitten's play. Now was no exception. "It almost seems like… you don't want to be official?"

His cat-ears drooped. "I don't know. I mean, I thought I did, but… you know how I feel about Ladybug."

A gasp lodged itself in her throat.

Oh no. This was about this evening, wasn't it?

It had to be.

But God, he'd just been so terribly down on himself and she'd needed to put a stop to it. Confusing him hadn't been her intention. Quite the opposite!

Chat's sigh thrust her from those thoughts. "I know she's in love with someone else. She has every right to be. It's just… hard, y'know?" This time, when he huffed, she got the sense it was from self-frustration more than anything else. "I keep thinking I'm getting over her”—he threw a hand through his mussed locks—"but then I see her at patrol and suddenly, it's like I'm falling for her all over again."

Marinette stared at her partner, a sharp pang in her heart.

She hated how true those same words rang for her; hated how she couldn't just tell him; hated how fiercely she wanted to.

But damn it, she couldn't. Not like this, for personal gain.

Yes, she returned his feelings – understatement of the century – and sure, revealing her identity and announcing her ginormous crush could fix Adrien's entire dilemma—but unveiling herself over something like this? That wasn't a guardian thing to do at all.

No, she'd just be cracking open a heaping silo of worms, and making more mistakes was something she just could not risk!

Once again, Chat continued, completely unaware of the frantic turn her thoughts had taken. "The second I saw Ladybug tonight, everything else just… melted away. It always does." His words were tender, brimming with affection, yet there was this heart-jerking ache about them. "She said such wonderful things to me, about me. I thought I was gonna explode."

Marinette pursed her lips—partly to hide the way they quivered, partly to stifle a strangled cry of – of what, exactly?

Joy?

Guilt?

Frustration?

Or perhaps desperation?

Was this what he'd meant about exploding?

"She—" Chat's voice cracked. "She even told me I was enough. No. More than enough." A ghost of a smile eased across his lips. "I don't think anyone's told me that since…" He chuckled, though it was harrowingly hollow. "Well, it's, uhh... been a long time."

Marinette was sure his grip on the railing had tightened. And was it a trick of the light or was he tearing up? He looked her way and the moment their eyes met, she had her answer. Just when she'd thought he couldn't tug her heartstrings any harder, the shaky smile he revealed proved her horribly wrong.

God, she hated this! All the lies and the secrets. The tiptoeing and half-truths.

It just wasn't fair. None of it.

Not on him.

Not on her.

They were a team.

How could they be their best with something so suffocating in the way?

Tears glossed her vision and suddenly, Chat Noir was no more than a flurry of shapes and colours. She looked away, avoiding his gaze, and smeared tears from her eyes with the back of a trembling hand.

“Oh no…”

Marinette heard faint steps upon wood. He must’ve swept from the railing to his feet.

“Did – Did I do that?" His hands eased onto her bare shoulders, their warmth radiating through her skin despite the leather gloves. "Marinette, I'm so sorry!"

How?

Just… Just how?

How was he so kind and selfless and utterly beautiful?

How could he suffer so silently, yet still find the strength to give others so much of himself?

Had she been transformed, she might've tackled her kitty in a fervid embrace. Her fingers twitched, yearning to pull him close, to comfort him as much as he did her, to give something of herself for once.

Instead, her jaw clamped in place as she fought back a guttural sob, and threw him the most convincing smile she could muster. "No, no," Marinette insisted, rubbing her reddening eyes. "It's not you. I'm just – Uh. The wind's a bit cold, that's all." She pointed up, as though the wind was some tangible thing. "It just – um – made my eyes sting. You know how those pesky breezes can be on your peepers!"

Chat rushed his hands up and down her bare arms. "I'm so sorry, Marinette." He scanned her balcony, as though hoping for a blanket to appear from thin air. "This suit sort of acts like a wind-protector, so I—"

"It's okay, Chat," said Marinette, a smile painting her lips. "I'll just consider this an excuse to have hot chocolate before bed."

He stilled at those words, and that soft smile was back—so Adrien, so Chat Noir, so him. "Well, when you put it like that." His smile spread. "Anyway, I should probably be going." His hands slid from her shoulders, one withdrawing his staff. "That hot chocolate of yours won't brew itself." He winked, and on light feet, took two steps toward the far end of her balcony.

"Chat Noir!"

Marinette grabbed his hand, and he stilled instantly, those green eyes watching her from over one shoulder. She pursed her lips, staring at her bare feet. "Umm… About this love stuff…" Warmth spread up her fingers, and she realised she hadn't released his hand. Her eyes reunited with his, pink grazing her cheeks, and she pulled her hand to her chest. "This – uh – might come as a surprise"—her insides writhed at the agonising truth of her next words—"but believe me, I know just how you feel."

Shock dusted his eyes. "You… You do?"

Marinette nodded, the movement slow and rather stiff. "So there are these two really smart, really kind, really cute guys – both amazing in their own special ways – and, well"—warmth crept across her face—"I really care about both of them, but I guess… deciding between them is like pulling teeth – worse than that, even." Her lips quaked. "It's just hard," she whispered, her brows furrowing. "Really hard."

Chat faced her completely, another smile gracing his full lips. "They're really lucky, you know"—her heart picked up the pace, throbbing madly in her eardrums—"to have a girl as amazing as you caring so much about them."

Had…

Had Adrien just said…

Marinette pinched her wrist, and the fleeting pain that brought with it had her choking back a squeal. "I – Uh —" Her mouth opened and closed as though she'd been born a goldfish. "Tha – Thank you," she eventually stammered, before sucking in a slow breath.

If she didn't keep her cool, she might do something stupid.

Like shatter his eardrums with a squeal.

Or call him Adrien.

Maybe kiss him.

No no no no.

That train of thought needed to stop pronto!

What… were they talking about again?

Remembrance flashed in her eyes. "But, uhh – about those girls." Her fingers drummed against her clothed thighs, the silk material smooth against her skin. "Those girls being – um – Ladybug and – uh – unnamed, mystery girl." She cleared her throat. "I'm sure they both care a lot about you, but at the end of the day, you've gotta do what's right for you." Her smile came easily, something she was immensely grateful for. "So, Chat, I say go for the girl that makes you happy."

He closed the gap between them, and Marinette hoped he wouldn't notice the goosebumps that blanketed her skin. If he did, she was totally blaming the wind again.

Of course, his hands found their way back to her shoulders. "Thank you, Marinette." He gazed into her eyes, and she wondered how a stare could possibly be so soft and intense at once. "You've helped me far more than you'll probably ever know."

Oh, the irony. It only powered the smile that lined her lips. "It was the least I could do," she said, echoing words he'd spoken all those months ago. By the look in his eyes, Chat seemed to understand.

He took two soundless steps back, extending his staff. "All right. I should probably scat before you get hypopurrmia."

Marinette snorted. "I think that second pun might've been pawshing it." She held her thumb and index finger parallel to each other and added, "Just a litter bit."

Chat stuck out his tongue. Like, actually stuck out his tongue. And Marinette wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him do that—in or out of the mask. "Thanks, Marimouse"—he showed a smirk and a two-fingered salute—"for being such a pawsome furend."

Why did she get the feeling he'd made those last two puns just to tease her?

He leaped onto the balcony railing, beaming when he glanced back at her. "Have a great evening, okay?" With a chuckle, he rubbed the nape of his neck. "And enjoy that hot chocolate!"

"Enjoy your evening too," she said with a wave. "And don't be a stranger, okay?"

With a nod and another of his classic, heart-warming smiles, Chat Noir leaped off the railing. The whir of his stick slowly faded, and Marinette watched as that unmistakable silhouette jumped from building to building, the light of nearby lampposts bouncing off his leather suit.

Only once he'd disappeared into the night did Tikki emerge, floating up to her face to nuzzle her cheek. With one finger, Marinette rubbed her kwami's tiny head. "Thanks, Tikki." She stared after her kitty and heaved a lengthy sigh. "What am I gonna do?"

[commentaryvorg]

heya, i saw on many of your posts that you saw quite a lot of v3 letsplays, i was wondering if you could recomnend me some of them, the ones you think are the best? i'm having a lot of free time on quarantine and i'd like to watch some, but i don't know where to start.

My favourite of all the LPs I've seen, by far, is by a lesser-known LPer called Version2. They were incredibly insightful, both in terms of interesting observations about the characters and story and in terms of how well they figure out the cases beforehand. They figured out basically everything in basically every case before beginning the trial, even case 5! The only big exception to this was case 1, for rather understandable reasons - but even then, they picked up on what was going on several minutes before the reveal and had the absolute most fantastic reaction to the realisation of the twist out of anyone I've ever seen. A lot of people tend to just get confused and upset and be all "but why, though?", but Version2 immediately understood exactly why and that this was the best thing this case could have done, storytelling-wise.

And perhaps most importantly if you're me, they liked Kaito a lot, to more than just background levels of "eh I guess I care about him because he's important and Shuichi's friend, sure, whatever" that frustratingly many LPers don't ever go beyond. They completely understood his whole supportiveness thing - something way goddamn rarer than it should be, grumble - and they did so from chapter 1, not 2 (including noticing Kaito's similarity to a certain character from Gurren Lagann). They also actually went and maxed his FTEs on their main playthrough, making them literally the only LPer I've seen do this. That should also not be this rare, grumble grumble.

One thing I was rather little disappointed with them on regarding Kaito was them not remotely figuring out he's not angry at Shuichi in chapter 5, something I really expected them of all people to get. While they really appreciate Kaito's supportiveness, they don't seem to realise how much he has going for him as a character beyond that, which makes me rather sad. To be fair, that stuff is somewhat harder to pick up on on a first playthrough, but it shouldn’t be impossible to notice at least some of it! I did, dammit!

But even then, still probably the best response to Kaito I've ever seen in an LP (man I wish the bar was higher than this), and from a less Kaito-centric standpoint, still a very high quality insightful LP that figures so much stuff out and has all sorts of interesting discussion about the themes and things, do recommend. (And as you might be able to tell from the pronouns I've been using for them, the LPer is queer, and they talk about things with a queer lens quite a bit, which is refreshing when LPers overwhelmingly tend to be straight dudes. Maybe that's a plus for you as well.)

I don't really have any LPs that obviously stand out to me as being my second favourite below that one. Quite possibly that second-place spot will be claimed by Lucahjin, whose LP is currently ongoing and in the middle of trial 3, so it's hard to say for sure yet when she’s still got the best parts of the story to come. As long as you're willing to put up with someone who's as innuendo-happy as the Danganronpa writing itself is, Lucahjin is a generally lovely person who gets very emotionally invested in the characters and the things that happen to them and is very enjoyable to watch react to games like this.

I had selfishly hoped she'd care a little bit more about Kaito outside of his explicit relevance to the story than she's been doing, but she likes him well enough and has at least shown more signs of being likely to notice his vulnerability than Version2 did, so I'm hoping that'll be a thing as she gets into chapters 4 and 5. Maybe she'll even claim the title of second LPer I've ever seen who actually figures out Kaito isn't angry at Shuichi in chapter 5, that'd be nice. [Update from the future: no, she did not, and I am disappoint. Sigh. I really thought she might have been able to pick up on that.] Maybe she'll give me what I've been so desperately craving from a blind LP, which is a reaction to case 5 similar enough to the one I had on my first time through that I can finally relive that experience vicariously through someone else. That one's looking like a bit of a long shot at this point, though. Why is it so rare for Kaito to be people's absolute favourite. He is the best. He should be so many people's favourite. Grumble.

(If anyone at all does know of a LPer who has a blind reaction to case 5 similar to the one I described myself as having had, and of a similar sort of intensity, please tell me, oh my god, I’ve been wanting something like that since the second time I ever watched that case and couldn’t have the same experience again.)

I suppose, since this is such a big deal to me, that I should also give an honourable mention to literally the only V3 LPer I have seen so far who considered that maybe Kaito isn't angry at Shuichi in chapter 5, namely Rose Matter. Really she only deserves partial credit on this front, because it took her most of early chapter 5 to even think that, and when she did it was a very tentative "eh, I feel like there's gotta be more to this, probably?", rather than just being immediately sure Kaito wouldn't do that like it should be perfectly possible to be even on a first time through. But that's still better than literally any other LPer I've seen, geez. Rose Matter's LP is otherwise not necessarily anything special - she tended to take most other things at face value and not have that much meaningful insight or be that impressive at figuring things out, but she had fun enough reactions and generally cared about all the characters who deserved to be cared about. (Still no actual hanging out with Kaito, though, grumble.)

But even aside from my personal recommendations, since your tastes in what you enjoy and what you're frustrated by in an LPer are likely different from mine, I'd just say check out lots of different ones to find one you think you'll like! You don't have to watch the whole LP if you don't like what you see; you don't even necessarily need to start from the beginning to get a sense of if you'll like one or not. Something I often did when finding new LPs to watch was look through someone's playlist and just watch specific scenes that would allow me to get a decent sense of whether they'd give me what I wanted in a V3 LP based on their reactions to those parts. In my case, this obviously involved a lot of scenes related to Kaito, but in your case this might be something else entirely, depending on what you most want to see someone caring about as they play through the game.

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

NOTE: Happy birthday to me! Though this might be posted right AT midnight my time, so technically after my birthday. Also, there won't really be much smut this chapter; just coupley fluff and a hint of steaminess.

                                                        CHAPTER SIX

"Well, you two sure are snug as bugs in a rug."

Chie scowled over at Yosuke as they sat around on the school roof, ploughing their way through plastic bowls of instant miso ramen. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about this." He leaned way forward, headphones slipping around on his neck as he poked his chopsticks between her and Yukiko's arms. And touched both of them. "You've been glued at the hip all day!"

"We have not." Cheeks having taken on the vaguest of rosy tints, Yukiko pretended to find her ramen much more interesting as she daintily drew the noodles into her mouth. She did slurp, but it was somehow a polite slurp; Chie never knew how she did it, while she was over there making enough noise to tell the whole school what she was eating for lunch.

"I mean, do you think I'm dumb? Let me rephrase," he cut Chie off when she held up a finger to respond, taking a deep breath as well. "I'm not dumb. I can see that something's different. Like, all day has been a chick clique, with me and Narukami all benched over here."

"I haven't felt 'benched'," Yu put in very mildly, though he had also been glancing at the two girls just as curiously.

Finally, Yukiko broke her silence, though she was still staring down into her lunch. "I think you're making a lot out of nothing, Hanamura-san. There's nothing wrong with two friends spending time together, especially after going through something so harrowing."

"'Hanamura-san'? Geez, it's like that, huh?" Yosuke sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Listen to Yuki-chan," Chie snapped. "Like, it's none of your business, anyway. But yeah, we're just hanging out! You think it's weird? For two girls to be friends?"

"No! But I don't think that's the only thing going on here." Squinting slightly, he pointed at Chie with his chopsticks again. "I think there's a lot more than just 'gals being pals', y'know? Like, Class S-"

"God, here we go," she groaned with a huge roll of her eyes as she set her bowl aside. "You and your 'everything is dirty' brain, you pervert." She stood up and cracked her neck, then started rolling her arm around to loosen her shoulder. Immediately, he was throwing up both hands to ward her off.

"Wait, wait! Hey, I don't think there's any call for violence, exactly! C'mon, what's the big deal in me pointing out what it looks like?!"

"The 'big deal' is that you're trying to make something normal into some gross fantasy in your brain!"

"Hey, can you blame me? After what we saw in the TV… I mean, your shadows were really into it…"

Instantly, he was being kicked down to sprawl out on his back by a very irate Chie. Limbs flailing everywhere, he tried to fend off the brown loafer that continued to descend upon his face and chest repeatedly for the next few seconds. "AH! CHIE! FOR CHRISSAKE, CUT IT OUT WILLYA?!"

"MAYBE QUIT BEING A GROSS PIG AND I WILL!"

While he was still trying to protect his face, Yu commented calmly, "The gross pig has a point. If shadows are part of who you are, it's not such a strange question to ask."

"Et tu, Yu?" Yukiko sighed, frowning down at her bowl. "Isn't it bad enough we had to be there while you two saw the other us… doing such things?"

"You say that like it wasn't the best show of my life!" Yosuke chuckled — earning him a fresh strike to the mouth with a rubber sole. "RGH! Okay, get off, I'm kinda done!"

Finally reclaiming her spot next to Yukiko, Chie grumbled, "Me too. Like, stop being so disgusting."

"Oh yeah?" He sighed and shook his head. "What a waste lesbians are."

While Yukiko's head began to sink lower, Chie's face burst a few capillaries as she snapped, "WHAT?! Okay — listen, you jackass! Y-you don't even know what you're- and what do you mean, a 'waste'?!"

"Like, that's two less girls for the rest of us," he continued to protest as he stirred his noodles. "Hard enough for some guys to get dates without some chicks pairing off with each other."

Chie took a deep breath to reply… but to her surprise, it was Yu who said, "I think that's ignorant. They should be able to date whoever they want."

"What?" Eyebrows sky high, he snapped, "Yu, bro… how can you stab me in the back like this?"

"Stop being dramatic. And I'm sure there will still be plenty of girls to ask out. Don't you have someone you're interested in? Anyone at all?"

"Risette," he sighed wistfully. When the other three were blinking at him in surprise for a few seconds, he cleared his throat. "I-I mean, that Ebihara is hot. But I dunno, I don't have any game."

"You really don't," Chie confirmed.

"Whoa, shots fired…"

"What do you expect, man? You treat girls like Pocky flavours, just trying to pick which one suits your mood today. Seriously, do you even care about how they feel? Whether or not their personalities match yours? You just seem to care if they have big boobs and nice hair."

Taken aback, he finally set his ramen aside. "What the hell, Satonaka? I thought we were friends, and you're like, totally ripping me a new one here! What did I ever do to you?"

"For starters, you told me and Yukiko that we're 'too close' and a 'waste of space'."

"Hey, I never said 'waste of space'. Just like, a waste of two really gorgeous, available women."

"Lies! You have never thought I was gorgeous."

"Oh. Good point." This time, she actually took her loafer off and threw it at his head. "WHOA! Hey, hey — I wanna live, I WANNA LIVE!"

                                                        ~ o ~

Despite trying her best to focus on positive thoughts, Chie's blood was still boiling well after school let out for the day. She kicked a can down the quaint, lazy street toward the rest of Inaba, still grumbling about how chauvinistic he was and that they were better off not dealing with someone who didn't even see them as fellow humans.

"He isn't that bad," Yukiko snickered. "He could use some work, but… you know he doesn't really believe those things."

"Yeah? Well I think he's worse than we think!"

"How can he be worse than you think if you already think he's worse?"

"That's… well…" Pouting, she watched her footsteps for a while as they paced through the homey little downtown district. "Y-you know what I meant. Like, I know he's a boy, but so is Yu and at least he's halfway decent. There's no excuse!"

"Maybe not." They were quiet for a moment. "Um, do you want to stop by Souzai Daigaku? Grab a couple of croquettes?"

Chie knew what she was doing. Obviously this was a ploy to distract her from her ranting about their friend's misogynistic tendencies. And… it worked, but only because she knew Yukiko didn't like gossiping all that much and wanted to spare her. "For sure. I crave meat — oh, and a lemon soda."

"Okay," Yukiko chuckled as she slid her arm through Chie's. The action seemed to bring both of them to a sudden halt, and she blinked. "Oh. That's strange, I… I didn't mean to do that. But it felt very…"

"Natural," Chie supplied. After only a tiny hesitation, she raised a hand to rest on Yukiko's wrist, keeping her there. "It's cool. I don't think anybody's gonna pay attention… we probably won't, uh… be noticed…"

Nodding her agreement, they continued to walk arm in arm. Despite her confident words, Chie's heart was racing. Somebody was going to call them yuri — make some kind of gay joke, or even just a simple catcall would be a fate worse than death. But maybe they wouldn't be seen at all.

They were.

"Ohhh, so pretty!"

The two looked around for a moment, trying to find the source of the compliment and figure out why it was even made. But nobody was closeby. Had they imagined it?

"Oh!" Yukiko breathed when she finally looked down.

A small elementary school girl was standing in front of them, wide smile and brown pigtails radiating pure innocence. Her little pink dress was on over a white turtleneck. Chie found herself wanting to pick her up and put her on a shelf, she was so adorable.

"Awww, hello there!" she gushed with an equal grin.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The girl gave a little bow. "Are you two on a date? I didn't mean to stop you!"

"Wh-WHAT?!"

But Yukiko led with, "N-no, it's okay. But what did you think was pretty?"

"You! I mean, I've never seen a girl as pretty as you, ever — 'cept maybe Risette! But she's a star. Nobody as pretty as Risette would be in Inaba."

While she was still trying to recover her voice, Chie squatted down to ask, "Hey, what's your name?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm Nanako." Then she seemed to remember her manners and bowed. "N-nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she chuckled. "And you're right, this is the most beautiful woman in the whole world."

"Really?" she breathed in wonder — while Yukiko made flustered noises beside her.

"Yep! And we're really lucky to see her! They say she only appears to little girls who have been really good this year."

While Nanako was looking completely enthralled, Yukiko tutted, "Don't fill that poor girl's head with nonsense!" But she was blushing a bright red to match her sweater.

"Sorry," Chie laughed, though she didn't sound especially sincere about her apology, before she turned to pet the little girl on the head. "It was nice meeting you, but we have a date with meat."

"Okay!" she breathed, still obviously very taken with the idea of a magically appearing prettiest girl in the universe. She waved distractedly as the two moved off toward the restaurant.

"Well she didn't seem to mind that we were arm-in-arm."

Yukiko smiled through her rosy, embarrassed expression. "You're terrible. But… I suppose I appreciate the compliment. Thank you."

Now they were both flustered. Luckily, their trip to Souzai Daigaku in silence could help them temporarily forget they were in the middle of such a touchy, anxiety-inducing conversation.

Which only lasted until Chie was halfway through her order of way too many croquettes. Yukiko had mostly just been watching her devour them with wide eyes, both disgusted and impressed as she nibbled at her own single croquette.

"WHOO!" she burst out. "This is great! Time for dinner now."

"Time for- you really are a bottomless pit." When Chie only saluted like an American soldier, she giggled. "Wow. Do you want to head into Aiya for a beef bowl? I'm not hungry, but… I don't mind spending more time with you."

Obviously that got her best friend grinning like a loon. "R-really? I mean, you know I'm going to be taking the portal to the meat dimension."

"Oh? I thought they only served that on rainy days."

"Well… they'll make it for me, since I'm one of their best customers. But I have to pay more if it's not raining. Seems like a fair trade-off." She finished off her croquette and stood. "Ready?"

Still caught off guard, she blinked and stood beside Chie. "Lead the way."

The Chinese diner happened to be right next door to the croquette stand, so it wasn't as if they had a long walk ahead of them. Chie pulled her to the door by the hand, and Yukiko stumbled briefly before adapting to the quickened pace, sliding her arms around her prince's to steady herself. All smiles. They were so giddily in love, even though they hadn't been at all aware of said love a couple of days ago. Life could change so fast…

"Welcome!" said a girl in a red apron with short blue hair and a white scarf covering most of it — which was most of what one could see, given that she was already bowed low in greeting. "How may we serve you?"

"Hey, Nakamura!" Chie said casually enough. "Not out on deliveries today?"

The server straightened and shrugged with a smile. "Nope, Satonaka-san." Clearly she was being formal because they were customers, but her tone and expression was full of familiarity. "Booth in the back?"

"Sure! And you already know what I want. Yukiko?"

"Oh, just a small order of zhēngjiǎo," she told her with a wave of her hand. "And green tea. Thank you, Aika-chan."

"With chicken?" Yukiko nodded, and Aika beamed. "I'll have those out for you right away. Please have a seat."

They made small talk until their food arrived a few minutes later. Chie plunged into the mega beef bowl with gusto while her new girlfriend daintily nibbled at her plate of steamed dumplings. Halfway through, she began to pet up and down Chie's back with her free hand.

"Hmhg?" Chie asked around a mouthful of beef, eyes wide when she turned them on her. Yukiko giggled, which only made her grin — while morsels of food dropped from her lips.

"YUCK!" she cackled, while Chie blotted at her mouth with a napkin. "I'm actually dating a pig!"

After having swallowed down the rest of her mouthful, she laughed and nudged Yukiko with her shoulder as she started to dig into the fried egg on top of the bowl at last. "Sorry, sorry. But like, it was hilarious watching you get grossed out." Which only earned her the daintiest tongue sticking out at her.

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence for a few more minutes. This time, when Yukiko pet her back, Chie didn't overreact; just hummed and relaxed into the gentle touch. It really was a night and day difference. Instead of making them feel awkward and weird, now it was warm, and safe… it felt like a little piece of home could be created wherever and whenever they chose.

"I really… can't believe how easy this is."

"Mm," Chie hummed around her mouthful before reaching over to lay a hand on her bestie's forearm under the table. Once she managed to chew and swallow it down, she whispered, "It's pretty crazy, I can't believe I'm starting to get used to this. Keep thinking you're going to snap out of it and like, tell me to get away from you. Because I'm… whatever it is I am."

Yukiko tutted at her as she wrapped both arms around Chie's, laying her head on her shoulder. "You say that like it's just you. Not both of us. Maybe you had those thoughts about me first but clearly I'm not running away. So…"

When she didn't finish right away, she prompted, "What?"

"So, um… don't be so…" She swallowed. "Don't be mean to yourself. Don't put it all on you, especially when I'm happy. This is a good thing, not a death sentence."

"O-oh, I never- I didn't mean it was bad! Just like, weird, and it's gonna get people saying weird stuff about us. Like Yu and Yosuke already keep doing."

"They should be ashamed of themselves," she sighed as she dipped another jiaozi into the tiny pool of sauce. "Well… Yosuke should especially, but Yu was also too persistent."

Shaking her head, Chie stirred the contents of her bowl angrily. "Oughtta stomp all over those two. Like, it's none of their business! I don't care what they saw in the TV!"

"Shhhh, I'm sorry." Yukiko pet her thigh now, kissing the side of her neck. "I didn't mean to get you upset. Even though I do agree with you. So… relax, alright? Enjoy the meal."

But that presented a brand new development for Chie. Her stomach fluttered as she realised they weren't just cuddling, or being good friends. Food was now completely gone from the forefront of her mind. They were together, in public, and Yukiko was touching her leg. That thin uniform skirt was the only protection from getting to fully enjoy the warm smoothness of her dainty hand.

"Y-Yuki-chan…"

"What? Is something wrong?"

The hand came to a stop, yet Chie was still breathing shallow and rapid when she said, "O-oh, nothing, I just… I'm having a good time. With you! Yeah, with you, um… h-honey."

Both Yukiko's flawlessly-shaped eyebrows shot up. "Honey?!"

"SHHHH!" she hissed at her desperately. "I don't know, I've never had a girlfriend before! Or boyfriend! An ANY-gender-friend!"

"Oh, my honey!" Yukiko snickered in English, entire face lighting up. Lapsing back into her native tongue, she purred, "I think it's really sweet. Funny, but sweet."

"Oh, shut up, Honey!"

"Wow, that isn't very nice. And here I'm being so affectionate toward you."

Though Chie's mouth opened to protest, no sound came out when she felt impossibly soft lips barely pressing into the corner. This was insane! Anybody could see them — anyone from school, from in and around their neighbourhoods. The proprietors of Aiya. All of Inaba. Not only was the hand still teasing her leg, but it seemed to be heading down toward her knee. The hem of her skirt.

"Yukiko… this is so bad, what happens if they catch us?! We're gonna be out to the whole freaking town!"

Snickering a little, the innkeeper whispered into her ear conspiratorially, "Nobody's watching us, I promise. Look around." Her other hand casually gestured to the inside of the restaurant, where couples, men dining alone, groups of students eating while they studied, filled its interior. None of them were looking in their direction.

"A-ah. But…" Chie licked her lips as she felt her skirt being hiked up by the playful fingertips. "They could still… turn around and see you doing this… isn't that illegal, anyway?"

A little at a time, Yukiko's playful smirk faded and she dipped her head as her hand came to a stop. "Sorry, my Prince. I guess I just really want to make you feel good, and it seems exciting to do it right here, but... you're right, it's too risky. I don't know what got into me!"

"Oh, hey…" She put an arm around Yukiko's shoulders, pulling her in close against her body. "I'm not mad or anything. Just like, freaked out at the idea. Do you still wanna try it?"

"No," Yukiko told her with a small smile. "Well… yes, but it isn't that urgent. We should finish our food."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I don't want to make you choke on your beef bowl, anyway."

A little snort fell from her girlfriend's lips. "C'mon, I could handle both at the same time. Probably. I'm only iffy about it because I don't wanna get caught and thrown out of my favourite restaurant."

"Really? Because I don't think I could!" They both laughed a little, and Yukiko leaned up to kiss her cheek again. "But if you're sure you don't mind experimenting… we could see what happens."

"Yeah." She nodded to further drive home how serious she was. "Hit me. If I can't handle it, I'll tap out."

"Tap out?"

"Yep! You know, in American wrestling when they're… done with… yeah, no reason you would know that. They tap the mat in a super obvious way to show they give up. So like… I'll do this."

When Chie tapped the edge of her bowl twice with her chopsticks, Yukiko's eyes hyperfocused on the action and she nodded. "Ah, I see! Yes, I will definitely understand that action's meaning now."

"It's not that serious," she muttered. But then Yukiko was petting the inside of her thigh again, and all she could do was grunt to keep from moaning. "O-ohhhh… oh, we're… starting again."

Not just starting. Yukiko's nimble digits were making their way straight to her panties, no waiting. Chie felt her stomach disappear as she anticipated the touch hitting home at last. Any second now…

"YOU."

They both nearly fell off their chairs at the sudden sharp word issued from so close by. Trying not to appear as flustered as they were, the two girls looked up to see a near-flawless face gazing down at them marred by a haughty, annoyed expression. Her blonde-highlighted hair hung around her face in elaborate curls that had obviously taken a long time to fashion, just brushing the lacey pink choker wrapped around her throat — like Chie already wished her hands were, and they had barely begun a conversation.

"Ebihara," Chie breathed as her blood ran cold.

"What?" Ai Ebihara snapped, resting a hand on one hip as she cocked it out to the side. "Can I help you with something?"

"Uhhhhh, you came up to me, dude. What do you want?"

That response made her scoff loudly. "Nothing from some bowl-cut reject. I was talking to the priss."

While Chie was trying to ignore the vein throbbing in her forehead, Yukiko sat up a little straighter and pointed at her own chest. "Me?!"

"God, you're both idiots. There are only two people at this table, so if it's not the bowl cut, guess who it has to be?"

"Hey, watch it," Chie warned her as she leaned an elbow on the table. "Tell us what the hell you want or get out of here."

Scowling at her, Ebihara flipped her hair over her shoulder gracefully before edging into a chair across from them. Which was exactly the opposite of what they wanted; they were kind of in the middle of something! Couldn't she go away and come back another day, much like other black clouds?

"You have something I'm after. Give me that and I'll leave you to your pedestrian food."

Yukiko must have been sensing that her friend was going to stand up and shout at the interrupting annoyance, because she started petting up and down her thigh again. Soothing this time rather than teasing. "And what might I have that you want? I'm sorry, but I truly don't know."

"Narukami," she said without preamble.

"What about Narukami?" Chie asked suspiciously.

"I want him."

The other two girls exchanged a look. Where the hell was this coming from?! "U-uhhh…"

"Don't act so surprised. He's such a tall, mysterious stranger from so far away… practically the only boy at Yasogami who's remotely interesting. And you have been hogging him to yourself long enough. Fork him over."

"Wait, wait," Yukiko giggled nervously, hand flexing on Chie's thigh. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from letting out a yelp of surprise. "You don't think… I'm actually dating Yu, do you?"

"I didn't say anything as heavy as 'dating'," she shot back with a roll of her honey-hued eyes. "But I've seen you two together a few times. How you smile at him. It's loathsome, but I can't deny you have an in with him that I do not… yet."

"We're friends, Ai-san. That's all, I promise!"

Her eyes narrowed as Yukiko pet higher. Chie had to fight to stay focused on the conversation. "Hmm. I could almost believe you…"

"Please do. I have no reason to lie to you."

"Very well. Let's say you are being straight with me. How can I turn his little grey-haired head — what's the story with that grey hair, too? Dye job, genetic thing?"

Before this point, Chie had been mostly nodding along, waiting for the tortuous exchange to come to an end. But something going on beneath the table now had her undivided attention. Yukiko had not stopped in her advance. Her fingers were now teasing the insides of her thighs dangerously close to her center as she kept her eyes pointed squarely at Ebihara.

"U-um…" But when their guest turned a glare on her, she shut up.

"Yu seems to really enjoy a lot of things," Yukiko quickly said to draw her attention back.

"A lot of… things." Ai raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that seriously as specific as you can get?"

"N-no, not at all. Maybe… if you could be more specific yourself, I can be more helpful. I don't mind, I'm just not sure exactly what your goal is."

As Ebihara contemplated, Chie found herself wondering the same question about Yukiko. What was her goal?! There was no way they were actually going to test out their friendship's newfound sexual component while sitting across a restaurant table from the prima donna of Yasogami High. Was there?!

"Well, I guess I'm curious why he hasn't asked me out yet," Ebihara said as Aika returned to their table. "Ever since I was made manager of the… I'm sorry, may we help you?"

Blinking at the cold tone, the waitress said, "U-um, I was going to ask the same thing. What can I get you, miss?"

"Nothing from this craphole." But when nobody followed up that statement, and Aika just scowled, she sighed. "Green tea. Unless you do boba here." The wince was enough to communicate they did not, so she sighed and waved her away, "Just regular old tea then, and take your time. I don't eat at places like this."

As poor Aika stomped away, Chie grunted, "You could h-haaaave been nicer to her."

Unfortunately, that near-moan didn't escape Ai's notice. "Your time of the month or something? You look like you're having some wicked cramps."

"Y-yeah," she said, figuring it was the easiest explanation. The girl made a disgusted face but didn't further pursue that line of questioning; all girls understood that one, right? Plus it took the heat off her from Yukiko's fingers gliding slowly up and down along her slit through the all-too-thin fabric of her undergarment.

"Anyway, I think he's really cute, and he irritates me a lot less than the other boys on the team. Plus when he works up a sweat during practice…" For a brief moment, while she was biting her lip and trying not to smile, she almost looked like a normal girl.

"So you have a crush on him," Yukiko said as casually as she could… while still driving her best friend crazy.

"Uh, yes? Hello? What other conclusion could you reach from what I just said?!"

"Of course, of course. Well, why don't you just ask him out instead?"

Ai scoffed and pressed a hand to her chest as if scandalised by the very notion. "ME?! Look at me. I'm stunning, and I work hard to be this stunning. What's the point in doing so if not so that the boys are the ones to fall at my dainty feet?"

Chie had to chance it, even though she was very nearly panting like a dog in heat. The comment was begging for a rebuttal. "I've… never h-heard someone describe their own feet as dainty before."

"Yeah? Well, stay tuned for more originality, courtesy of moi." Even though she was so elegant-looking, it was such a jarring, brutish move when she suddenly slapped her calf on top of the table, making the dinnerware clatter. "LOOK. Look at them."

Yukiko and Chie both blinked down at her now-shoeless foot. It was covered by her white stockings, of course, but it seemed dainty enough in size. So Chie said, "Yep, that's a foot."

"It, um, seems lovely?" Yukiko attempted. As the leg mercifully withdrew before the proprietor of Aiya saw it and was offended at such a rude display, she continued, "I also envy how trim you are, Ai-san. How do you stay in shape? Chie does a lot of sports training and martial arts."

"Mostly diet," she told them smugly as she pulled out a compact and preened slightly. Chie wondered idly how anyone could be so self-absorbed. "And a little time on my elliptical at home every evening. Gotta burn those calories. What about you?"

Caught off guard by the question being turned around on her, Yukiko smiled demurely as she went back to teasing Chie harder. Her throat constricted to cut off a very genuine moan. "Oh, nothing in particular. Portion control. Though my duties at Amagi Inn do tend to keep me very active."

"Really? I can't believe that — you're way too perfect for that to be the whole story. What is it, kale? Juice cleanses? Do you…"

For a little while, Chie lost track of the conversation. Her entire focus was on those fingers playing over her growing wetness. Luckily the diner was full of pungent, savoury aromas or she would really have been in trouble — no way she wasn't stinking up the place with the scent of her arousal by now. All she wanted was to drag Yukiko off to the bathroom for a glorious finish, but she wasn't sure she would be able to stand just now. Besides, it would be the only move even more conspicuous than what they were already doing.

"...definitely working," Ebihara was finally relenting when she refocused, trying to block out the urges to moan and roll her hips by distracting herself. "But yeah, loan me that when you get the chance."

"Of course." Yukiko only occasionally glanced at Chie, to make sure she wasn't distressed or angry. And since Chie was trying to look politely interested in the conversation, it never showed how intolerable this whole situation was for her, so she went right back to petting and chatting. "And as I said, I don't know what sort of perfume he prefers, but anything should be fine. But knowing Yu, I don't think he would care about the brand if you name-dropped."

Ai's brow furrowed slightly as she tapped the surface of the table. Meanwhile, Chie was doing the same with one of her legs, jiggling it up and down in an attempt to abate the feelings assaulting her. In fact, it made them worse… but even after realising that, she couldn't seem to stop. She needed to get off now.

"Well, he certainly does look at me like he likes what he sees. What the hell's his problem? What more do I have to do?"

"It's probably a courage problem," Yukiko told her — while pressing two fingertips harder against Chie's clit. Which was throbbing so hard it didn't even present a challenge for her to find through the panties. "He hasn't worked up enough to ask someone as pretty as you out yet. Give him time, or make your own interest more obvious, since you said you didn't want to ask him yourself."

Ebihara tapped her chin. "You know, even though you're just a townie, I think you have a point. I won't outright ask him, but I could flirt a little. I'm just used to the boys making all the moves on me."

"A-ah…"

"Hm? Something wrong, Satonaka?"

"N-nah," Chie tried to cover. In reality, she had been unable to suppress that moan when Yukiko's fingers inadvertently tensed upon being called 'just a townie'. Despite the reason, it had felt too good against her greedy flesh. "Still my… red tide. Mm, what would you do? To flirt."

Looking at her a little funny, Ebihara shrugged. "I don't know. That's not really my thing; I prefer to have them chasing me. But I guess I've thought about it before, just in theory."

"So, u-um, try out some lines. Maybe we can tell you if they're- nhh… if they're too cheesy."

"Fine. Guess there's no reason not to." While Chie's hips began to squirm back and forth, the orgasm so close now, Ai preened at her hair a little more before leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her folded hands. "Hey there. What's a nice guy like you doing on a crummy team like this?"

"I don't think that's very kind," Yukiko put in — while circling her best friend's clit harder than ever. "Try not to put down the team, he might take offense."

"But they really are a crummy team. Well, except for Kou-chan…" Her expression flickered, and it almost looked a bit wounded for a moment — before she recomposed herself into the usual arrogance. "Okay, you're probably right. Let me try something else."

"Please," Chie begged. Though it was actually for release and not another flirtation demonstration.

"Wow. You just made yourself my guinea pig, Bowl Cut." Chie wanted to be mad…

But an instant later, Ai's hands were delicately taking up the one of hers that was resting on top of the table. Her eyes softened as she looked up into Chie's, slightly wetted lips parting as her throat worked to swallow, as if nervous.

"I know… I haven't been the manager for very long, but… I really like seeing you every day. And you're so strong, and athletic… not to mention easy on the eyes. I wouldn't mind spending a little more time with you, okay? One on one."

"Really?" Chie half-panted, just barely able to keep from making it completely obvious what was happening under the table. "One on one, h-huh? What for?"

Anyone would have been able to tell Ebihara was fighting down some variety of "Are you stupid?" response. But after the brief flicker of ire, she leaned further forward, showing a slight glimpse of her collarbone beneath her school uniform, the very top of her cleavage. Her eyes were sparkling, lips parted even more as she began to heave for breath. Chie responded in kind… because she couldn't stop herself from letting the desire show through anymore. Even if it wasn't actually desire for the person in front of her, at least it came across like she was playacting for the sake of aiding their classmate.

"To make all your wildest dreams come true. Listen…" One hand still holding Chie's, she let the other one raise up to graze well-manicured fingernails up and down along the inside of her forearm. Goosebumps raced over her skin. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and…" She feigned being shy, biting her lip and looking away.

"And?" Chie prompted hastily, riding the edge as Yukiko sped up her efforts. A quick glance over showed she was curious to see what might happen next.

Looking back up, the normally snooty girl leaned so close their noses were almost touching, voice dipping down into a husky whisper. "And I want… you to be my first. Will you claim my body?"

Well damn.

This orgasm was the hardest yet, and it bowled over Chie with such a force she had no way to prepare. A moan started to burble up past her lips, and had just barely begun when she belatedly realised that even though her entire mind was consumed with the taboo of this activity, with the sheer potency of the climax itself, she still had to keep the whole diner from figuring out what they were doing. What a nightmare, what an impossible situation!

Which she made worse, because in her Cro-magnon brain's efforts to stop the noise, it sought the easiest avenue possible when there was a set of pouty lips a mere inch away from her own.

"MM!" Ai grunted when she felt the kiss begin, the hand holding Chie's clamping down hard so that her nails bit into the skin of her palm. But when Chie grasped it back just as hard, she sort of… melted. Just for a few seconds, they were really kissing each other while Chie's climax made her hips roll against the punishing fingers, milking that moment for all it was worth.

Then Ai drew back and smacked her across the face.

"OW!" she yelped, completely shocked. "Wh-what-"

"EXCUSE YOU!" she gasped out, cheeks flaming red now despite her furious expression. "This was supposed to be acting, not with… with actual… th-that was too far!"

Though Yukiko looked quite thoughtful, she still put in, "Actors kiss all the time. Even in school plays. I think she was just really into the scene."

"Y-yeah," said a dazed Chie, brain too foggy from orgasm afterglow and the stunning blow to her face to say much more.

"W-well, I… I didn't say we could do that, so it was very rude to do it without asking!" The prissy girl pushed her hand into her mouth. "GOD, I kissed a girl and I didn't even hate it — I'm a yuri. At least she didn't steal my first kiss! Then I would be really mad, you don't even know!"

"She didn't?" Yukiko asked curiously, even while smirking playfully at the flustered Chie. Apparently, they would be talking about this at great length later. "Who was your first kiss?"

"Some boy I- oh, nevermind! Screw you two perverts, you're crazy!" She hastily got up from the table, then stumbled a little before sitting back down. "UGH! And if I didn't take off my shoe earlier, I could have stormed out of here and looked much cooler! DAMN it, I'm having the worst day!"

                                                         To Be Continued…

[tamiddyinyourcity]

11:03pm.

I HAVE THESE LUUUUCID DREAMS WHEEEEERE I CANT MOOOOVE A THIIING.

Fuck, I forgot Juice Wrld died. Its actually really freaking goshdarned depressing.

Wednesday, May 20th of 2020.

How am I feeling?

I'm doing alright so far. Nothing too remarkable. Letting the days pass by with ease.

It could be going easier, but, at least its still going.

Random life updates:

The foot slave dude from Twitter suddenly had ghosted me. Whatever, man. He was a little odd.

Also, some young chick went "YOU GOT SIX DOLLARS FOR FEET PICS????" And not in the "HOW COOL" way, but in the "you could've charged ten per photo and scored 20". Fuck, ouch. I could've bought that game Cam recommended me or something.... I really do wanna play Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlands. Seems dope, you know?

Had taken an "ugly family selfie" with the other people in my house. My mom will inevitably shade me for my Playboi Carti Travis Scott Lookin Ass protective style braids in the photo, but it's still nice. Or, they still act like being around them is a huge burden. (But them acting like I'm stuck up and loathe them makes me more resistant or unsure of them, so it seems pretty damn useless.)

Hell, even back when I still somewhat gave a fuck about other members of this household, bitches were still.... fucking weird. Like, still shading me. Every time we hung out as a family, my mom went out of her way to be such an asshole to me. My sister found a way to be hostile. Older brother mocked me. Younger sibling was bland. I just.... geez, I am actually tearing up writing this. It would be nice, not being treated like shit by the other household members, you know?

I'm getting better at handling my natural hair. But still not 100% excelling at the whole "have your headscarf stay on the entire night" sorta thing.

I think my period is coming? I honestly couldn't tell if it was anxiety or just general despair causing my severe depression and physical fatigue these days. And upsetness. But, my uterus area is doing that hyperspecific cramp thing, i guess. Whoohoo, still not pregnant!

Trying to make friends! Am I succeeding? Not entirely, but that's not the point! Still trying! Still doing things anyway!

A girl I know told me that I inspire her with my writing and posts on another page..... Honestly? I love it so much. Shoutout to Zuri and Sam, yall are so sweeeeeet and kind lovely individuals and my day is brightened whenever yall talk to me.

Summer is CANCELLLLLLED AND I AM SAD ABOUT IT EVERY DAY. I was supposed to pull up flexing on these niggas like aerobics, but I guess I'll just have to save all the lacefronts I bought for something else then... A video maybe? Noice.

I miss grilled onions and barbecue sauce with ranch on a bacon cheeseburger with curly fries. Taro boba. Steak fries. All that good shit. The thing I miss most about going outside was the food. Since even alone, I could enjoy a mango juice on the patio of a diner and people watch with the sun out, or enjoy the outdoors. I don't think I'll care too much about human interactions, due to how poor it feels like its going while everyone is stuck indoors. But, hey, i miss shit.

Might go to the beach with my headphones when this is all over. Just feeling the sunset slowly, going from blazing to a nice, comforting slow burn level warmth of red and orange trailing down my skin. It feels better than sex, let me tell you that.

I'm officially 99.9% done with my bedroom! All I have to do is organize two small bins of items, and then wallah. Its so small that I can probably sleep for the first time in awhile without feeling wildly depressed about all the hoards of things I'll have to do.

Scored a podcast with a buddy this Friday! Boo yah, bitch. :)

11:43pm.

Feeling super exhausted. Long ass day, didn't eat enough. But feeling happy, and that's all that matters, really.

OH WAIT.

I FORGOT TO MENTION HOW MY COMMUNITY WASHER AND DRYER TOTALLY RUINED MY VERY FLUFFY VERY WHITE BEDROOMS WITH A THICK BLACK UNREMOVEABLE STAIN.

AND DIDN'T REMOTELY DRY MY CLOTHES DESPITE AN HOUR IN THE DRYER, RUMBLING.

Yikes.

Thats really shitty.

At least it's not my only blanket right now.

Gonna go to sleep.

Peace out.

[phoenix-of-arson]

Oh my gosh

HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THIS!?

My little brother is autistic, I feel like I definitely should've been aware of this. He is a bit like Huey too. I never thought of it. He likes Legos and building as much as I like singing. And that is saying something. He loves to talk about stuff he likes a lot, and he likes to learn stuff, to the point he will rant about it. He knows the rules of driving better than most adults. He likes creative stuff, but tends to stick to the instructions too. He doesn't really like things outside of Legos, some crafts, and video games, and that's ok. He's really smart,one of the smartest in the school if we are talking about IQ or not, but definitely doesn't like learning new stuff. Also, lots of stimming. Lots. Of. It. He also doesn't do well with sugar.

I also like this idea, because it'd be really cool if Huey was the only triplet with autism. Not everyone that is related to each other has autism. All of my siblings have autism. I don't somehow. I got tested just like them. I can really relate to a lot of problems, but most of it just comes from anxiety. I do have some type of an anxiety disorder, and I take medicine for it. I don't know if any of my other siblings have or had an anxiety disorder because the oldest died, two got adopted, I have an adult half sister I didn't know about until yesterday, and I have no idea if my brother has anxiety or not. He could, or could not. I can't tell. I've tried to be able to tell. I notice he's been mimicking how I react to stress, and I don't know if I'm causing it, or he's just going through the same thing. But I hope he isn't, because he has enough to go through at school. The principal is the worst with autistic kids and he's trying to take over the special ed class, and he wants things done his way ALL the time. We don't have any more teachers with qualifications anymore and it stinks. That principal triggers my brother like nothing else. You know the situation is bad when your brother groups the principal as one of the people he hates, number one being the devil, and number two being the principal. His wife is my teacher. She is super mean and she causes me to have a ton of panic attacks. The other teacher in the classroom retired, so now I'm going to die. She's terrible at explaining math and doesn't like me to ask my mom to help me with my homework. It's annoying. She also has her favorite students, the bullies. Those girls are mean and they are the leaders of the volleyball team. Popular girls. The are mean to my brother WHO IS 10, and I want to throw something at them so bad. My teacher doesn't even care. They can get away with anything was well. They do a lot of bad things and don't get punished. I try to be understanding, but they make me so mad. I try to ignore them. I don't want my brother to think fighting is the answer.

Oh geez this post got long.

huey duck is autistic

i posted this thread on twitter but i put a lot of work into it so check it out here