#ive been trying to color like this for years and finally figuring it out is so satisfying. im rlly happy about it

[anistarrae]

[mononijikayu]

stuff we did — geto suguru.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?” Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.” You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?” Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.” You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/ Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Suguru, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Comfort, Falling In Love, Pining, Slice of Life, Humor, Domesticity, Miscarriage, Infertility, Character Death, Depiction of Infertility, Depiction of Hospital Visit, Depiction of Illness, Depiction of Old Age, Mention of Miscarriage, Mention of Infertility, Mention of Character Death, This Is One Of My Favorites In A Long Whille, My Writing Vault Is Just Angst;

WORDS: 8.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was written a while while back and i just finished proof reading it to suit what i wanted to see. this was inspired by both queen of tears and the film up, which was just the most beautiful movie ive seen over and over. i hope you enjoy this a lot and that you'll be just as moved as me. i promise i'll be back with fluff soon enough!!! i genuinely cried at the end. anyway, i hope you love it. i love you guys!!! thank you for reading <3

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A WHOLE LIFETIME WAS WAITING FOR HIM. At ten years old, Suguru Geto was a dreamer with a spark in his eyes that hinted at a life full of exploration and wonder.

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It was an ordinary afternoon, the sun casting long shadows as you wandered through the neighborhood, when you stumbled upon the abandoned house. Its once-grand façade was now a patchwork of peeling paint and overgrown vines, and the wooden fence sagged in places, as if it were barely holding on to its secrets.

You had been intrigued by the house for weeks, often imagining what mysteries lay behind its dust-covered windows. That day, you decided to finally investigate, only to find someone already there. Suguru was crouched by the front gate, peering through the rusty bars with a look of intense concentration.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?”

Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.”

You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?”

Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.”

You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

Suguru’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Let’s make it our clubhouse. We can turn it into our secret base where we plan all our adventures.”

The two of you both pushed open the creaky gate and made your way up the overgrown path to the front door. Inside, dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight filtering through the broken windows. The air was musty, but the promise of discovery filled you with a sense of excitement.

“This place is amazing!” Suguru exclaimed, running his hand along an old wooden beam. “Imagine all the things we could do here, don’t you think? We could have treasure hunts, build secret compartments, and even create maps of our adventures!”

You smiled, already swept up in the excitement. “And we could scrapbook all of our adventures. I’ve got a ton of stickers and colored pens at home. We could make it like a journal of our explorations!”

Suguru’s eyes lit up with delight. “That sounds perfect. We’ll make this place the coolest clubhouse ever!”

With the possibilities swirling in both your minds, you turned to Suguru, realizing you hadn't properly introduced yourselves yet. “Oh, by the way, I’m…….”

Suguru grinned, his enthusiasm still bubbling over. “Suguru Geto. Looks like we’re gonna be partners in adventure!”

The two of you spent hours exploring every nook and cranny of the house. Suguru’s enthusiasm was contagious, pulling you deeper into the magic of the place. Every corner held a new discovery, a forgotten relic of time that sparked your imaginations. You both laughed as you uncovered old, dusty furniture, imagining all the stories it could tell.

Suguru, always the dreamer, crouched by an ancient-looking wardrobe and peered inside. “What if this belonged to a pirate?” he mused, brushing away cobwebs. “Maybe they stashed their maps and treasures in here before sailing off for another adventure.”

You chuckled, running your fingers over the faded carvings on a wooden chair. “Or maybe it was a writer, sitting here every night by candlelight, crafting tales of far-off lands.”

Suguru stood up, eyes gleaming. “We could be the next storytellers! We can make up stories about this place—maybe even start our own treasure hunt for future explorers.”

“I love that idea!” you grinned, already envisioning the elaborate maps and clues you could create together. “This whole house could be our playground.”

As you explored further, you found hidden doorways and forgotten passageways, each discovery filling you both with a sense of wonder. There was an old attic with creaky floorboards that groaned under your weight, and a cellar that held shelves of ancient, dusty jars—relics of a time long past. Suguru’s energy never faltered, and neither did yours. It was as if the house had become an extension of your shared imagination, every forgotten room a new world to explore.

At one point, Suguru turned to you, breathless from excitement. “Can you believe how much potential this place has? We could make it anything we want! A fortress, a secret hideout, a museum for all the stuff we find!”

You nodded eagerly, already planning how you’d decorate each room with artifacts from your adventures. “We’ll turn it into our own world.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “We’ve gotta make sure no one else finds it, though. This is our secret spot.”

“Deal!” you said, sealing the pact with a grin.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the house, Suguru turned to you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, one day we’re going to see the whole world. Just like those great explorers. This clubhouse will be our starting point.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of deep connection with Suguru. “I’d like that. I think we’ll have the best adventures together.”

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YOU THINK THAT ADVENTURE WAS THE WAY TO GETO SUGURU’S HEART. When you started to get to know him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Suguru’s eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement whenever the topic of exploration came up.

It was as though each conversation opened a window into his boundless curiosity, and you found yourself drawn to the light in his gaze, the way it brightened with every new idea or story he shared. 

Geto Suguru’s fascination with the world wasn’t just a passing interest—it was a deep passion, woven into the very fabric of who he was. He could turn even the smallest details into an adventure, transforming mundane objects or places into portals to other worlds. You can tell that he was a born story–teller. Born to know the wonders of the wider world.

Whenever he spoke of famous explorers, his voice would rise with enthusiasm, as if their courage and daring lived within him. Marco Polo’s travels along the Silk Road, Amelia Earhart’s fearless flight into the unknown—Suguru recounted their tales with such vivid detail, it felt as though you were right there alongside them, venturing into uncharted lands.

“He didn’t just travel, you know what I mean?” Suguru once said of Marco Polo, eyes alight with admiration. “That guy managed to help open some doors to a whole new world. Can you imagine that? Being the first to set foot somewhere no one even knew existed?”

You nodded, already swept up in the vision he painted as you kicked your feet. “It’s like the whole world was waiting to be found.”

Suguru smiled, and there was a quiet thrill in his voice. “Exactly! That’s the magic of it—everything’s an adventure if you look at it the right way.”

It didn’t take long before his excitement became infectious. These days, you just feel like that when you are around Suguru. Just as quickly, you could only find yourself equally captivated by the idea of exploring far-off places and uncovering their mysteries. Geto Suguru had a way of making even the ordinary seem extraordinary. 

He would point out things that others might pass by without a second glance—a strange rock, an oddly shaped tree, or even the patterns in the clouds—and turn them into puzzles waiting to be solved. His mind was always buzzing with “what-ifs” and “maybes” sparking conversations that seemed to stretch on for hours as you both imagined worlds within worlds, hidden just beneath the surface of reality.

“I wonder what it would be like to be Amelia Earhart too!” he mused once, as you both sat on a hill, gazing at the horizon. “To fly into the unknown, chasing the horizon, not knowing what’s on the other side but going anyway.”

“Scary, but exciting, don’t you think?” you replied, feeling a twinge of that same wanderlust Suguru seemed to carry with him at all times. “It’s like you’re both lost and free at the same time.”

Suguru nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. The unknown is terrifying, but that’s what makes it so… beautiful. There’s always something more to discover. And I…I just can’t wait to find out all of it!”

It was moments like these that deepened your bond. His wonderment was contagious, and soon you began to see the world through his eyes, where even the smallest things held the promise of adventure. Whether it was the forgotten corners of an old house or the distant lands of long-gone explorers, with Suguru, everything became part of an ongoing quest. 

You realized that it wasn’t just about the places you would explore, but the way he looked at the world—with a wide-eyed excitement that made you feel like every day held a new mystery, waiting to be uncovered. And you wanted to be there with him. Just beside him. Because to be with him, you like to think that you would find nothing but a wonder if you were there.

He had a knack for finding the magic in the mundane, and it opened your own bright eyes to the wonders around you. What once seemed ordinary now felt like it held endless possibilities, all thanks to Suguru’s infectious spirit. 

He showed you that adventure wasn’t just something that happened in faraway places—it could be anywhere, even in the most unexpected moments. You didn’t have to cross oceans to find excitement; sometimes, it was right in front of you, if only you knew where to look. And with Suguru, you were learning how to see it.

This weekend afternoon, as you and Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor of your clubhouse, surrounded by colorful supplies and old maps, Suguru began sharing his latest dream with you. The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting a warm, golden light on the room.

“You know…..” Suguru said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “I read about this amazing place called the Himalayas. It’s full of towering mountains, and some of them are so high that they touch the sky. Can you imagine climbing one of those?”

You looked up from your sketchbook, eyes wide with wonder. “That sounds incredible! What would it be like to stand on top of one of those mountains?”

Suguru’s face broke into a smile as he imagined the scene. You like to think that he had the most beautiful smile in the world. “It would be breathtaking. You’d feel like you’re on top of the world. And there’s this special mountain called Everest—people say it’s like touching the edge of the heavens!”

With a gleeful chuckle, Suguru grabbed a pencil and began sketching a mountain range in your scrapbook. “We should definitely put this in our adventure book. We’ll draw mountains and imagine ourselves climbing them.”

You nodded eagerly, already picturing the pages of your scrapbook filled with sketches and notes. “Absolutely. And we can write about all the things we’d see and do. Maybe we’ll even draw ourselves in climbing gear, standing triumphantly at the summit!”

As the weeks went by, the scrapbook became a canvas for your shared dreams. Each page was a tribute to the places Suguru talked about with such passion. There were intricate drawings of ocean vistas, with waves crashing against rocky shores, and sprawling cityscapes with towering skyscrapers and bustling streets.

Geto Suguru’s descriptions were so vivid that you could almost hear the sounds and smell the scents of these distant lands. He just knew how to give you the wide world to you in the vibrant brighteness no one could.

As you worked on the scrapbook together, Suguru’s excitement reached a new peak. “I’ve been reading about this incredible city called Istanbul. It’s where East meets West, and there are markets full of colorful spices and beautiful mosaics everywhere. I think it would be amazing to see it in person.”

You looked at the sketch Suguru had just added, depicting a bustling market scene with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. “It looks so lively and full of culture. I’d love to experience it with you. Maybe we could even learn a few phrases in Turkish before we go.”

Suguru nodded, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Yes! And we can try all the different foods and maybe even buy some souvenirs to bring back to our clubhouse.”

As the scrapbook filled up, it became a treasure trove of aspirations and memories. The house, once an abandoned relic, was now a haven for your dreams, where the world beyond your doorstep felt just a little bit smaller and a whole lot more reachable.

As you look at him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your scrapbook would be an adventure as long as you had him.

IT WAS EASY TO SEE THAT YOU LIKED HIM. As the years passed, as you both grew older—the bond between you and Suguru deepened in ways that neither of you had anticipated. Nothing has changed and yet it has.

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You couldn’t even understand how you could describe it. What had begun as a playful friendship, sparked by shared adventures and dreams, evolved into a profound connection that anchored both of your lives moving forward.

The seasons changed, and so did the nature of your relationship. As the crisp air of autumn gave way to the first frost of winter, something subtle yet profound shifted between you two.

Your weekends, once filled with the solitary pursuit of sketching mountains far off in the distance or wistfully dreaming of cities you had yet to explore, began to take on a new rhythm. These quiet moments of creativity were now shared, woven into times of meaningful conversations that deepened your connection.

The clubhouse, once a refuge for your art and ideas, had evolved alongside you both. It was no longer just a place to retreat but had grown into a cozy home filled with warmth and a sense of belonging. The walls, once bare and practical, were now alive with a collage of your memories—scrapbook pages pinned up like trophies of the adventures you’d had together. 

Here, in the dim light of your clubhouse-turned-home, time seemed to slow. Conversations stretched long into the evening, filled with laughter, confessions, and sometimes a comfortable silence that spoke more than words ever could.

You realized that it wasn't just about the places you wanted to visit or the mountains you hoped to climb. It was about these moments—right here, right now—that had been shaping the most important journey of all: the one you were taking together.

You and Suguru sat on the porch of your clubhouse. The place had become a sanctuary for the two of you, and tonight, it felt even more so. Wrapped in thick, warm blankets, you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft gold, pink, and lavender. The fading light bathed the world in a warm, almost magical glow, a contrast to the growing chill in the air.

But something else lingered in the quiet of that evening—an unspoken tension. Suguru, always steady and thoughtful, had been unusually silent. You could sense that something weighed heavily on his mind. His usual animated presence, the one that balanced your own, seemed subdued. 

He stared out at the trees, their leaves a patchwork of fiery reds and oranges, but his thoughts were clearly somewhere else. The contemplative look on his face was deeper than the usual moments of introspection he had.

You knew him well enough to understand that silence was part of who he was—he often found comfort in it—but this was different. This wasn’t just quiet; it was an absence of something.

The air, cool against your skin, seemed to press in, amplifying the stillness between you. It felt as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to be said. You didn’t push him; you knew better than that.

With Suguru, patience was key. He always opened up in his own time, and when he did, it was always worth the wait. You could tell he was wrestling with something important—something that couldn’t be rushed.

You glanced over at him, his face softened by the golden light of the setting sun. His expression was unreadable, yet you could sense the conflict beneath the surface.

It was as though the quiet had become a shield for him, a way to protect himself from whatever thoughts he was trying to sort out. You wondered if he even knew how to begin talking about it, or if he was still trying to make sense of it for himself.

The porch creaked as you shifted slightly in your seat, the only sound breaking the stillness. The leaves continued to fall, gently drifting to the ground, but the world around you felt frozen in that moment, waiting for Suguru to speak. Whatever was on his mind, you knew it was important, and you were ready to listen when he was ready to share.

You glanced at him, sensing that something was on his mind. “Hey, Suguru.” you said gently, “is everything okay? You seem a bit… distant.”

Suguru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began slowly, “about us, and about everything we’ve shared.”

You felt a flutter of nerves in your chest but kept your voice steady. “What about us?”

Suguru took a deep breath, his fingers intertwined with yours. “You know how we’ve always dreamed about exploring the world together? Well, lately, I’ve been thinking that the greatest adventure of all is the one we’re already on. The one where we’re building a life together.”

You looked at him, your heart racing as you realized what he was about to say. Suguru’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he continued, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. You’ve been my partner in every adventure, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The world seemed to pause as you processed his words. Your feelings for Suguru had grown from admiration and friendship into a deep, abiding love. You had felt it for some time but hadn’t fully acknowledged it until this moment.

“I love you too, Suguru.” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re my best friend, my confidant, and the person I want to share my life with.”

Suguru’s bright purple eyes sparkled with happiness, and he reached out to hold you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you felt a profound sense of belonging. From that evening onward, your relationship transformed. 

You both began to plan not just for the next adventure but for a future together. You talked about dreams of traveling the world, but also about building a home, starting a family, and creating a life rich with shared experiences. 

The future you envisioned was no longer just about distant places or grand plans; it was about the everyday moments and the life you would build side by side. You found joy in the small things—quiet dinners, laughter over shared memories, and the simple pleasure of being together. And for each of those moments, you would both be together. For every last one.

And from that moment, everything felt like a flash, a blur of time passing with both rapidity and grace. Years slipped through your fingers like sand, but each one seemed to deepen the bond you and Suguru shared. 

You both arrived at the house, this time not as wide-eyed dreamers, but as people ready to take action. You were equipped with the resources, knowledge, and expertise that had been hard-earned over the years. What once seemed impossible now felt within reach.

The house had transformed, much like the relationship you shared. The wild, overgrown vines that had once snaked across its facade had been cut away, revealing the clean lines of the structure underneath.

The sagging fence, which had leaned precariously for years, had been replaced by a sturdy, welcoming one. Even the gate—the one that had creaked and stuck when you were kids—now swung open smoothly, inviting you in with a sense of ease and possibility. 

Standing there together, gazing at the house, the nostalgia hit you both in waves. You could still remember the first time you stumbled upon it, back when the future felt like a distant, far-off dream. But now, it wasn’t distant anymore. It was here, within your grasp.

The silence between you was comfortable, filled with anticipation and a shared understanding. You both knew this wasn’t just about restoring an old house. It was about building something together—something that was uniquely yours.

This house, with all its history and imperfections, was about to become the home you had always envisioned. It wasn’t just a physical space. It was a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you had grown into, and everything you had yet to become.

As you exchanged a glance with Suguru, you didn’t need words to know what he was thinking. The years had brought change, but they had also brought clarity. Together, you had always been building something—first with your dreams, then with your actions. And now, you were ready to take that final step, to make this place your home.

“Look at it, baby!” Suguru exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he gazed at the house. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement and pride you hadn't seen in a while. “It’s incredible to see how far we’ve come. I remember the first time we explored this place, imagining what it could become.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in the sight before you. “It’s amazing. It feels like we’re finally turning our dreams into reality.”

The house had been a vision for so long—an idea you had held onto through thick and thin. Now, as you stood in front of the freshly painted exterior, with the sun glinting off the windows and the scent of fresh grass in the air, it was hard to believe that this place had once been nothing more than an abandoned shell. But it was no longer just an idea or a distant goal. It was real, solid, and yours.

Suguru picked up a paint roller, dipped it into the bucket of soft, pastel blue paint you had both agreed on, and turned toward the wall with a grin. “This is the fun part, don’t you think?” he said, rolling a stripe of color onto the previously bare wood. “It’s like coloring outside the lines, but now we get to make the lines too.”

You laughed and grabbed your own roller, eager to join in. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, mister. This is a team effort.”

Soon, the two of you were painting side by side, your laughter filling the crisp air as you carefully applied the vibrant colors to your home. The soft hum of birds chirping in the distance and the gentle rustling of leaves set the perfect backdrop for your playful banter. Every brushstroke felt like a step closer to bringing your shared vision to life.

At one point, Suguru turned toward you, his roller dripping with paint, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “You know what’s missing here?” he asked, his voice playful.

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be suspicious. “What?”

“An artist's touch!” Before you could react, Suguru flicked his roller in your direction, sending a spray of pastel blue paint across your shirt.

Your eyes widened in mock horror as you looked down at the splatters of paint now decorating your clothes. “Suguru!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-gasping. “You’re in so much trouble!”

Without hesitation, you dipped your roller into the paint and aimed it squarely at him, sending a cascade of blue across his chest. Suguru's bright purple eyes went wide in surprise, then he broke into a wide grin.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, stepping toward you with his paintbrush raised like a sword. What started as an innocent painting session quickly turned into a playful paint war, the walls momentarily forgotten as you splattered each other with streaks of pastel blue. 

You squealed as he rushed off with a dash and followed you. His laughter was just as much the best part of the progress you think. It was like the music that was missing in your life. And it never stopped that afternoon and you were content.

The soft spring breeze carried your laughter, and for a few moments, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Suguru, in the moment, covered in paint and joy.

At some point, you collapsed onto the grass together, breathless from laughter and covered in splashes of color. The house loomed behind you, its newly painted walls gleaming in the sunlight, but all you could focus on was the way Suguru looked at you, his face smeared with paint, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.

He reached over and gently wiped a smudge of blue from your cheek, his touch tender. “Look at us, baby.” he said softly, his voice a mix of awe and affection. “We’re a mess, but this—everything we’ve built together—it’s beautiful.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Yeah babe.” you agreed, your heart full. “It really is.”

Just like that, this once old abandoned soul was starting to come back to life before your eyes. It reminded you of all those dreams you had shared with Suguru for so many years. And in that moment, as you sat in the grass with your husband—covered in paint, laughter, and love—you realized that this, right here, was the real dream coming true.

That cool summer night as you both sat together on the porch of your newly renovated home, watching the sunset paint the sky with shades of pink and orange, Suguru turned to you with a contented smile. You had never seen him this happy in your entire lives together. And it suited him. More than you think he’d understand. 

“I never imagined this day would come, but here we are. Our adventures didn’t just remain on paper anymore, baby. They became a reality now.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “It’s incredible. We’ve seen so much of the world, and now we have this beautiful home that’s a reflection of our journey.”

With your home now complete, you and Suguru embarked on a new chapter of your life.

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LIFE EVEN IN ITS MOST MUNDANE WAS EVERYTHING. As the years went by, your and Suguru’s paths continued to align in the most fulfilling ways. Suguru, inspired by his love for learning and his experiences, decided to become a teacher, just like you.

Both of you found immense satisfaction in shaping young minds and sharing your passion for knowledge. Your combined efforts in education became a cornerstone of your lives, and it was a field where your love for exploration and discovery seamlessly translated into inspiring others.

Your old friends, who had once joined you in those early childhood adventures, also found their way into the field of education. Together, you formed a tight-knit community of educators, all driven by a shared passion for helping students explore their potential. The clubhouse, once the backdrop for your childhood dreams, had become a symbol of your commitment to fostering curiosity and creativity in the next generation.

Even your nights you spent in your home were often filled with lively discussions about teaching methods, innovative ideas for the classroom, and the exciting possibilities of new educational tools.

Your love of exploration, once confined to distant lands, now found a new outlet in the classroom. You and Suguru worked together on projects that encouraged students to think critically and explore the world around them, just as you had done as children.

Suguru, with a nostalgic smile, traced his fingers over a particularly cherished page. “Remember this, baby?” he said, pointing to a sketch of the Himalayas. “We were so excited about climbing those mountains. And now, look at us—living our dreams and sharing them with others.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I do remember. And I’m so grateful for everything we’ve experienced together. This scrapbook is a reminder of how far we’ve come and all the dreams we’ve made real.”

As you both looked through the pages, you realized that the scrapbook was more than just a record of your adventures—it was a reflection of your journey as a couple. It symbolized not only the places you had been and the things you had done but also the love and partnership that had grown alongside them. Everything was perfect. Nothing could be better.

Your careers were flourishing, and life with Geto Suguru was a tapestry of shared happiness. The bond between you had only deepened over time, each day bringing a new layer of intimacy and understanding. 

It was as though your relationship had found a perfect equilibrium, a serene joy that seemed like it could stretch on indefinitely. Your home was filled with the warmth of laughter, the comfort of companionship, and the contentment of having achieved many of your dreams. But still, you felt like something was missing. And your husband knew it too.

Suguru, with his usual thoughtful demeanor, was the first to broach the topic. “You know, baby….” he began, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. “We've built something incredible together. Our careers, our lovely home… Everything feels right. But have you ever thought about what might come next?”

You turned to face him, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” you asked, sensing that there was something more beneath his words.

Suguru hesitated for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Well, we’ve talked about our future in many ways, but lately, I’ve been thinking about children. About…..about what it might be like to have a family of our own.”

Your husband’s tender words hung in the air, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The idea had surfaced in fleeting thoughts and half-formed conversations, but hearing it out loud made it feel more real, more tangible.

You considered his words carefully. The thought of children had always been a distant possibility, a dream tucked away among other aspirations. But now, in the warmth of the evening and the comfort of your home, it feels different. It was no longer just an abstract idea; it was something you were both ready to explore.

“I’ve thought about it too, babe.” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “It’s strange how this feeling crept up on us. I suppose we always knew that our life together would be about more than just us, that there would be something else to share our love and our world with.”

Suguru reached out and took your hand, his touch reassuring and full of promise. “I think it could be a beautiful next step for us, you know? I know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges, but I can’t help but feel that it’s the right time.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. “I agree. It feels like we’re ready to open up to this new chapter. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else but you.”

And that settled your desires to begin unfolding. You both wanted it — to have a family together, to raise a child that would be a reflection of your love. The excitement was palpable, filling the days with a hopeful kind of anticipation. You tried, again and again, but it wasn’t long before the first signs appeared, subtle at first. A growing worry gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, willing everything to be okay.

Then came the miscarriage.

The room was heavy with silence, the kind that feels suffocating and oppressive. Your eyes were red from the tears you had shed, each one a testament to the depth of your loss. The sterile whiteness of the doctor's office seemed to mock the vibrant dreams you had once held.

The doctor’s words were like a sharp blade cutting through the haze of hope you had been clinging to. “You won’t be able to have children, Mrs. Geto. I am so sorry.” he said softly, his voice compassionate but firm. 

The words hung in the air, each syllable a painful puncture to the fragile balloon of hope that had floated between you and Suguru. At that moment, the world seemed to fall apart.

The colors of the room blurred together, the sounds of the doctor’s voice faded into a distant hum, and the only thing that remained was the crushing weight of the news. It was as if the very foundation of your dreams had shattered, leaving behind a void that seemed too vast to fill.

The future you had imagined—of shared late-night feedings, tiny feet pattering around the house, the joy of watching a child grow—was now nothing more than a distant, unreachable fantasy. The dream you and Suguru had so carefully built together crumbled, leaving behind an aching emptiness that felt like a gaping hole in your heart.

You looked at Suguru, and in his eyes, you saw the same devastation mirrored back at you. The strength and support that had always been a cornerstone of your relationship now felt fragile, as if the very fabric of your shared hopes had been torn apart. His hand reached for yours, trembling slightly, and you could feel the shared grief pulsing between you.

As you and Suguru drove home, the silence in the car was almost unbearable. The world outside seemed muted, as if the colors and sounds had been drained away. The roads stretched out in front of you, but they felt meaningless, like they led nowhere important. The weight of the news settled heavily on your shoulders, and neither of you knew how to break the quiet.

For days, you were unapproachable, lost in a fog of devastation. The loss felt like a gaping chasm that nothing could fill. Conversations became infrequent and strained, and even the comfort of routine seemed distant and hollow. Suguru was there, his presence a constant but silent support, and though he tried to offer solace, the words and gestures seemed inadequate against the depth of your shared grief.

The stillness in the house felt almost oppressive. You found yourself sitting alone in the backyard, the garden now a quiet reflection of your internal turmoil. The familiar sight of your favorite flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves seemed to offer no solace. You sat there, wrapped in a blanket of melancholy, trying to make sense of the void that had settled in your life.

Suguru came out and joined you, quietly taking a seat beside you on the patio. He took a deep breath, the kind that seemed to carry the weight of the world. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, his presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions.

“You know, baby…..” he began softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence, “it’s okay to feel like this. It’s okay to not have all the answers or to be okay right away.”

His words were simple but carried a depth of understanding that only someone who truly cared could offer. You turned to look at him, seeing the pain and determination in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to move past this.” you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I know.” He whispers to you with tenderness. Tenderness you will never truly deserve. “But you know, baby…..We’ll always be together.”

“I know that.” you retorted, your voice tight and strained as you tried to contain the wave of emotion threatening to break free. “But I just… I wish I could have given you a child, you know?  A child that’s a mix of you and me. I just…”

Your words trailed off, leaving a raw vulnerability exposed. The weight of your regrets hung heavily in the air, mingling with the sorrow that had become a constant companion. Suguru’s eyes, usually so full of life and energy, now reflected a deep, pained empathy. 

His purple orbs roamed over your face, taking in the sight of you so broken and anguished. The sight of you in such distress was almost too much for him to bear. His own heart ached at the realization that there was little he could do to ease your pain.

“Does our lifetime of love need to leave evidence?” Suguru asked softly, his voice tender yet resolute. “Does…..does it need more than what there is?”

His question wasn’t just a consolation; it was a reflection of his deep belief in the essence of your relationship. You turned to him, the tears welling in your eyes now spilling over, blurring your vision. The raw honesty in his words cut through the fog of your grief, reaching the core of your heart.

“We have each other now, baby.” Suguru continued, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “And we love each other. That’s all that matters.”

His words were simple but powerful, a balm to the wound that had seemed insurmountable. His words broke something inside of you, not in a painful way, but in a way that let all the pent-up sorrow flow out. 

You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, and Suguru wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to. In his embrace, in the warmth of his presence, you found the reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

You cried for the loss, for the future you had dreamed of, but you also cried for the love you still had. Suguru was right. You had each other, and in that love, you found strength. That’s all that truly mattered.

Geto Suguru held you close as your tears flowed, his hands gently rubbing your back, whispering words of comfort that barely reached your ears. But his presence, steady and unwavering, spoke louder than any words could. 

In his arms, you found a fragile sense of peace, a reminder that even in this moment of heartbreak, you weren’t alone. His touch was familiar, grounding, and you turned to look at him. There was a tenderness in his eyes, a deep understanding that made your heart ache in the best way. He smiled at you.

“I know this isn’t what we imagined.” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I’ve been thinking… Maybe it’s okay if our love doesn’t leave a legacy in the way we thought. Maybe our love can just be… us.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling into your heart. Suguru had always been your anchor, the person who knew how to pull you back when the world felt too overwhelming. In that moment, you realized that maybe he was right. 

Maybe your love didn’t need to be measured by the future you had imagined, by the children you thought you would have. Maybe it was enough to have each other, to share this life together, and to hold onto the love that had always been there. Maybe this was all there has to be. Maybe….this was enough.

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t filled with sorrow. You squeezed Suguru’s hand, leaning into his warmth. “I love you.” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “I love you so much.”

He pulled you into his arms once more, his lips brushing against your temple. “I love you too. Always.”

In that quiet moment, you realized that while the future you had once dreamed of was no longer possible, there was still a future waiting for you. A future where it was just the two of you, building a life together, creating memories that were uniquely yours. And as long as you had Suguru by your side, that was enough.

▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃

YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOUR HUSBAND’S DREAMS WERE BEAUTIFUL. Even after everything, your husband Suguru had always been a dreamer. He never gave up even after the rollercoaster life had dealt you. Everything you both went through—the heartache, the healing—he found a new dream. It was no longer about building a family or leaving a legacy. 

His new dream was much simpler, yet so much more meaningful: seeing the world with you. He wanted to explore every corner of the earth by your side, to share in the beauty of new experiences together, and to make memories that would last a lifetime.

There was one place, in particular, that you had always talked about—Grindelwald. The snow-covered mountains, the crisp winter air, the breathtaking views from atop the peaks.

It was a dream you had held close for as long as Suguru could remember, and now, it had become his dream too. He wanted nothing more than to take you there, to hike those snow-dusted trails and see the world unfold beneath you, together.

The two of you started saving for the trip, setting aside small amounts whenever you could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the dream alive. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Each time you neared your goal, something else would come up—unexpected expenses, repairs, emergencies. And each time, you had to dip into your savings, pushing the dream further and further away.

The years passed, and the dream remained just that—a dream. Life after all was always busy, life had always had other plans. But you were just happy, being with him. Being together was more than enough.

Yet, Geto Suguru never gave up. He never forgot the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about seeing pictures of Grindelwald, and he was determined to make it happen one day, no matter how long it took.

Then, one quiet evening, many years later, your husband Suguru sat across from you, his once dark hair now streaked with bright vibrant silver. His hands were still steady, but time had softened their strength. He looked at you with the same love he always had, and there was something different in his eyes—something hopeful, something excited.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two plane tickets, holding them out for you to see.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the destination: Switzerland.

“We’re going, finally!” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re finally going to see Grindelwald.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a cascade of emotions threatening to spill over, but before you could voice a response, an unfamiliar, sharp ache deep within your body made you pause. It was a discomfort that had been gnawing at you for some time, a persistent shadow that you had tried to ignore. 

At first, you dismissed it as stress or perhaps a lingering side effect of the emotional turmoil you had been through. But as the days turned into weeks, the ache intensified, becoming an unwelcome companion in your life.

You tried to push through it, attributing it to the residual strain of the recent loss and the emotional weight you were carrying. Yet, the pain was relentless, and it wasn’t long before you knew you could no longer ignore it. After several visits to various doctors, numerous tests, and consultations that felt endless, the diagnosis finally came: cancer.

The words hit you like a physical blow, the gravity of the diagnosis sinking into your bones. Cancer. It was a term that seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainty. The doctors’ explanations, though thorough and compassionate, felt distant and detached, as if they were speaking a language you couldn’t quite grasp.

The news was like a seismic shift in your world. It felt as though everything you had been trying to hold together was unraveling. The tears that had been welling up before were now flowing freely, mingling with the shock and fear that gripped you. You tried to process it all, but the weight of the diagnosis was overwhelming. It was as if the universe had decided to compound your grief with a new and daunting challenge.

You found yourself grappling with the implications of the diagnosis, trying to come to terms with the reality of what lay ahead. The future that had once seemed so full of potential and hope was now clouded by uncertainty. The plans and dreams you had cherished were overshadowed by the looming shadow of illness.

Suguru was there, his presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. His own emotions were a mix of concern and determination, but he tried to remain strong for you. In the quiet moments, as you both grappled with the weight of the diagnosis, he held you close, offering a solace that words couldn’t fully convey.

Everything about it was a crushing blow. But Suguru held firm and so did you. You wanted to fight it. After all that time, your dreams together were about to come true. You didn’t want to give up just yet. You wanted to live on. You wanted to go. You wanted to have more time. With him. 

But life wasn’t always as one wants it to be. You were admitted to the hospital soon after, the trip to Switzerland slipping away, replaced by sterile rooms and treatment plans. Geto Suguru was devastated. He had waited so long, saved so carefully, and now, just when it seemed possible, this had happened.

But as you lay in the hospital bed, weakened but still filled with love for the man sitting beside you, you knew there was something more important than the trip, more important than the dream that never came to be.

You called him over, and with trembling hands, you handed him the scrapbook you had kept over the years—the one filled with all the adventures you’d already shared, the places you had seen together, the memories you had created.

“You’ve always been my greatest adventure, you know?” you said softly, your voice a little hoarse. “We may never get to see Grindelwald together, but that doesn’t mean the dream has to end.”

Your husband Suguru looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, unable to speak. 

“I want you to keep making memories, Suguru. I want you to keep having adventures. Take the tickets, go see the world… live for both of us. Because as long as you’re alive, as long as you’re making memories, there will always be evidence that I live on too.”

Suguru’s hand tightened around yours, his tears finally falling. He shook his head, unable to imagine a world without you, without your shared dream. But you smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek.

“You’ve always been the dreamer, Suguru.” you whispered. “Don’t let that part of you die. Keep dreaming, keep living for me, for us. Our love… it’s more than just a place or a moment. It’s a lifetime of memories. And as long as you’re out there, making new ones, I’ll be with you.”

Suguru nodded, his heart breaking but understanding what you meant. You had always been his greatest love, and now, even in this painful moment, you were still giving him the strength to carry on.

As he sat by your side, holding your hand tightly, Suguru made a silent promise—to keep your love alive, to honor the life you had shared, and to one day, perhaps, stand atop those snow-covered mountains of Grindelwald, knowing that you were with him in every step, in every breath, in every memory he made.

▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃

HE WASN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER. But he still had a promise to fulfill to you. Geto Suguru stood at the base of the trail, staring up at the towering Alps, their snow-covered peaks gleaming under the summer sun.

The path before him was steep, challenging, but it was the journey he had promised to make—for you, for both of you. He reached up to touch the small locket that hung around his neck, a picture of you carefully tucked inside. Your smile was his anchor, even now, long after you were gone.

The climb was grueling, especially for someone his age. His knees ached, his breath came in short, shallow gasps, but he pressed on. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, reminding him of the dream you had shared for so many years—to see Grindelwald together, to hike these mountains and stand at the top of the world.

As he ascended, memories of you filled his mind. He could still hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his, see the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about this place.

It had been your dream, but over time, it had become his as well. Even after all those years of saving, when life had repeatedly forced you to spend the money on more pressing needs, the dream had never faded.

Now, finally, he was here. But he was alone.

Each step was harder than the last. The trail wound higher and higher, becoming more treacherous, but Suguru refused to stop. He clutched the locket, his fingers brushing over the metal as if your presence was embedded within it.

“I promised you,” he whispered to the open air, as though you were walking beside him. “I promised we’d see this together.”

It took hours, his body protesting with every movement, but at last, Suguru reached the summit. The world spread out before him, vast and beautiful, with the jagged peaks of the Alps stretching into the distance. The view was breathtaking—just as you had always said it would be.

He stood there, chest heaving, staring out at the endless sky. Tears welled in his eyes, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of the moment. He opened the locket and gazed at your face, your smiling eyes staring back at him. You should have been here with him. You should have seen this with your own eyes.

“This is for you, baby.” he murmured, his voice cracking as tears spilled down his cheeks. “We made it, love. We’re finally here.”

Suguru stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding the locket and letting the wind carry his words. The silence of the mountains felt sacred, and for a moment, he could almost feel your presence beside him, hear your voice on the breeze.

After a long while, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, framed photograph—the two of you, from years ago, standing side by side, laughing as the sun set behind you. It was a moment of joy, of love, captured forever. He knelt down carefully and placed the frame on a small, flat rock at the very peak of the mountain. The picture stood there, delicate but steadfast, a testament to the love you had shared.

Suguru stood back, his gaze soft as he looked at the photo. He ran a trembling hand through his silvered hair, then placed his hands together, pressing the locket to his chest. “We don’t need evidence for our love, you know that, baby?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want… I want everyone to know that there was love somewhere.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“And it will be here. Always.”

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and the grass around him, as if the earth itself acknowledged his words. Suguru stood there, the weight of his age and grief heavy on his shoulders, but in his heart, there was a quiet peace. This was your place now, your memory, your love, etched into the mountains for all time.

As the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Alps, geto Suguru turned and began his descent. With each step, he carried the knowledge that your love was eternal, not bound by the constraints of time or place. It lived on—in the memories, in the moments, and now, on the very peak of the world.

[megoomy]

tales of berseria au of vesperia - raven/schwann

rambling and ref images under the cut

finally re emerging from my cave to talk about raven. if anyone was looking forward to more of these(??) sorry for the long break. my output is extremely unpredictable. anywaysss

[shuffling papers] between the "theres two of them" and the fact that he has a somewhat japanese inspired outfit AND a knight persona, raven seemed like an obvious fit for "kind of the rangetsu brothers". also, i once saw schwann before playing vesperia, and thought to myself "that must be raven's brother". which is really funny. (to me at least)

so raven is a daemon and its visibly obvious in his raven persona. but as schwann, its a big secret and he's a high ranking praetor in the abbey. i think this might make him a semi-willing therion? in any case, he's still been reshaped and controlled by alexei.

hes also filling the role of traitor but maybe not in the same way he did in vesperia exactly and...certainly different from the berseria traitor in motives lmao. kidnapping estelle is still on the table i suppose but so is like, killing "aifread" (seifer) and stuff like that. as always this au exists in a permanently malleable state because i/we have no intention to write it and i welcome anyone else to do that.

design notes...i think the raven look is a fairly even split between vesperia raven's default outfit and the rangetsu brothers' clothes. didnt really pull anything from raven's alternate costumes on that one! as for schwann, it took a bit to figure out what i wanted. schwann has the one winged cape in vesperia, but i was really trying not to have him looking too much like artorius, because it felt weird LOL. ive been sticking pretty close to the standard abbey color scheme so far, but shigure has orange accents himself, so i figured schwann could have his orange as well. i feel like he ended up distinct enough?

the daemonblighted skin* obviously comes from rokurou as well. in raven's case, its on his face where his schwann haircut would cover it, trailing down to vaguely the shape of his blastia heart. my wife joked that this made him look a little like yuri (au) and that yuri's probably annoyed about it.

as with the last time i posted this stuff you're welcome to make derivative works, credit is nice but it's not a big deal, tag me if you want i would be delighted to see it.

we figured out some stuff for patty and karol and at some point i will finally nail down repede so maybe it wont be another year before i make another one of these! no promises though!

*i dont think this is ever used to describe rokurou's face or anything like that but "daemonblight" is the word used to describe the transformation into a daemon(/hellion) in berseria so this is how we've taken to describing it

[mihai-florescu]

1 & 25 <3

The thoughtful Tia, hii!! Thank you for the questions:3

1. Song of the year?

Weeell spotify says it was wuthering heights by kate bush, but i think knights' discography ended up being irreplaceable in keeping me alive this summer...hmm if i had to choose just one...maybe ironic blue. It is on a playlist from when i was paranoid that i wont survive if i dont listen to it, crazy roulette & artistic partisan in the morning.

25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one

Nod nod especially in the second half of the year i made a bunch of ocs, rotated the ideas for their stories in my head, and then put them back in boxes inside my brain. I made the alien gals, fascinated by humanity through rose tinted glasses of media they got their hands on, coming to earth and experiencing the horrors. I wonder what that could be about!

Ive drawn them in my sketchbook a few other times but this is the only digital colored ref so far...

Aaanyway, then i also had mt fujo, a vtuber who reviews bl media and her nr 1 online hater (for reasons of they both ship their otp differently. AxB vs BxA is no joke) is actually her sweet irl coworker she has a crush on. But they dont know... until they do. Her outfit is supposed to have that aoba figure as a necklace/central piece of sorts

And recently ive been doing animal gijinkas. No story, theyre just fun character design exercises

Ah and i have a mhyk oc based on Margarita from The Master and Margarita. Gonna copy paste a message i sent oomf about her (since oomf is the reason i read the book in the first place and one of the reasons i finally read mhyk, it felt right they'd hear about the oc): Her lore is shes a eastern witch who fell in love with a human writer. He wrote a novel that paralleled their story, shedding a positive light on human-wizard relationships. In the town they lived in, he was mocked and the book was forbidden from being published, out of humans' bitterness towards wizards. This put a lot of strain on both him and their relationship, soon enough he got sick and died. In grief, margarita flees to a forest where she builds a library where all kinds of forbidden and banned books can be found. She also specializes in restoring objects. Her magical focus is a torn page of the book her partner had written, the one that was banned, the page being one of the few remnants of its existence. On the side, after she restored his book, she hopes to use her object restoration and psychometry (feeling memories inside objects) powers to bring the master back to life through the memories inside his book. She toys around with making other puppets like this before she can try to bring him back, but has been unsuccessful in her goal so far. Murr has visited the library in the past, and now one of his soul shards resides there; he appreciates her dedication to restore and keep banned books and also her commitment to her gone lover. I envision western and eastern sages wizards would get called to a mission at the library, and it would stir them up. Shy for the fact that hes doing a similar thing except murr isnt dead, faust because the forbidden books include some about what actually happened to him in the past, etc...

This was a first sketch, im not sure if i want to keep it, but still. Some sort of visual.

[freelafan4life545]

Yesterday, what started out as another funny tumblr comment chat with @capt-t-leela

Became this...

Followers, consider this my gift to you this year.

One Cozy Xmas

The dull hum of the reinforced apartment walls was punctuated by the occasional crash and distant explosion. It was Xmas Eve, and Fry and Leela sat huddled in their cozy, makeshift sanctuary. Outside, Robot Santa roamed the streets of New New York, unleashing his annual reign of terror on the naughty and nice alike.

"Well," Fry said, leaning back against the pillow fort’s lumpy walls, "it’s not exactly the festive evening we planned, but at least we’re not on Robot Santa’s hit list this year."

Leela chuckled softly, adjusting the fluffy blanket draped over their shoulders. "Yeah, thanks to your last-minute idea to board up the windows with titanium plating. Good thinking, Fry."

He grinned proudly, though the plan had been as much dumb luck as ingenuity. "Bender better get back soon. We’re running low on root beer and cheese puffs."

Leela shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You really think Bender's gonna make it back in time? He probably found some seedy underground casino and forgot about us completely."

As if to prove her point, the apartment’s battered intercom crackled to life. Bender’s voice came through, distorted but unmistakable.

"Hey, meatbags! I’m stuck in a bar downtown. Robot Santa showed up early, and lemme tell ya, it’s bad out here! You’re on your own. Merry Xmas!"

The intercom fizzled out, leaving a moment of silence.

"Typical," Leela muttered, but she didn’t seem surprised.

Fry shrugged. "Well, we’ve got enough snacks to last the night, and it’s not like we can leave anyway." He glanced at the tablet in his lap. "What do you say we make the best of it? Movie marathon?"

Leela tilted her head, considering. "Fine. But no cheesy action movies."

Fry gasped in mock offense. "What? But Xmas isn't Xmas without Explodogeddon IV: Santa's Revenge!"

Leela shot him a pointed look, and he relented with a sheepish grin. "Okay, okay. Your pick."

After some back-and-forth, they settled on a romantic comedy from the 20th century. Fry queued it up, and they sank deeper into the fort, surrounded by snacks and soft cushions. The flickering light from the screen painted their faces as the movie began, and for a while, the sounds of chaos outside seemed to fade into the background.

Leela leaned into Fry, feeling the warmth of his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It was... nice. Too nice, almost. She wasn’t used to this kind of comfort. Her life had always been one of struggle—being an orphan, searching for her people, trying to make sense of her place in the universe. She’d spent so much time putting up walls, both literally and figuratively, that letting someone in felt unfamiliar, even unnerving.

Fry glanced down at her, his eyes softening. "You okay, Leela?" he asked gently.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, it’s just... I’ve never really had anyone to spend Xmas with before. Not like this."

"Like what?"

She gestured vaguely at the cozy fort, the snacks, the blanket draped over them. "Like... safe. Comfortable. With someone who actually cares."

Fry’s heart ached at her words. He knew Leela had been through a lot, more than she often let on. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You deserve it, Leela," he said softly. "All of it. The safety, the comfort... and someone who cares. I care about you. A lot."

Her eye widened slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but before she could overthink it, Fry tilted her chin up and kissed her, softly at first, then with more confidence. She melted into it, letting herself be vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed.

When they finally pulled apart, Leela rested her head against his chest, a small, genuine smile on her lips. "Thanks, Fry," she murmured.

"For what?"

"For being... you. For making me feel like it’s okay to let my guard down sometimes."

Fry grinned, his cheeks pink. "Anytime, Leela."

They returned their attention to the movie, though neither of them was paying much attention to it anymore. Outside, the sounds of destruction raged on, but within their little fortress of blankets and pillows, it didn’t matter.

For the first time in a long time, Leela felt like she could face the chaos of the world—and the chaos within her own heart—with someone by her side. And for Fry, having Leela close and happy was all he could have asked for this Xmas.

They stayed like that for hours, the glow of the screen flickering over their entwined figures, as the night passed and a new day—free of Robot Santa’s terror—drew closer.

(A/N: @capt-t-leela did that sounded accurate to you and Fry?)

💜🧡

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine “Star Wars” special edition: songs part IV.

• Rewrite the Stars

Imagine you and Anakin rewrite your destines…

Warnings: loosely based in “Rewrite the Stars” from “The Greatest Showman”.

Warnings 2: drama, fluff.

(based on the request of @strawberrystrangers)

***

How it started…

You and Anakin first met when both of you were children and aspiring to be Jedis. Toddlers as you were, you were merely Padawans who were figuring out what was your place in this new, different world.

“How can an angel like you be a slave too?”, he asked you when you two fled from the hawking eyes of Master Windu. He was holding your hand back then and you liked how he always behave as if he was the savior of your grace.

Not only that but the moment he found out you two shared a common back ground (both of you had a difficult childhood, although you leant far more into kindness and forgiveness despite your hurting scars than he did; both of you never knew your fathers; both of you had such a level of Force that impressed the Jeds who took you under your wig… and what perhaps was most impressive was that both of you were brought to Coruscant by Master Qui-Gon Jinn), all changed for him.

Yet you couldn’t really tell he was already mesmerized by your y/c skin, y/c hair, the color of y/c that painted your irises. Or how good your heart was, how pure you were. You just thought he was being kind to you, even though he was not as kind to other children.

Regardless, what was an innocent spark of a genuine friendship would slowly turn into attachment and, why not, something deeper as the years went by.

***

Years later.

Right before your trials, you and Anakin were flying secretly around Coruscant. It was late evening and your Masters were away to resolve some incident concerning Mandalore.

“This is where the fun begins”, he told you mischievously.

“Ani! You promised you wouldn’t…pilot…this… FAAAAAAST!”, you screamed the moment he turned the ship around and ensured to fly as fast as he could, much to your dismay.

But when he slowed down, you were both bursting into silly giggling.

“I hate you”, you told him, breathless, after snapping his arm a few times.

“Hate is not the Jedi way”, he mused sarcastically.

Why so suddenly when he smiled at you like that you swooned?

Uh-oh.

You turned your face away so he wouldn’t have a glimpse of how easily made your face go bright pink. But Anakin saw it. And what he saw definitely melted his heart’a barriers.

But this was not the most appropriate moment to navigate in the waters of the heart. Not when he was taking you to fly throughout the stars, even though it was too much a risk to leave Coruscant.

Eventually, though, you two were back to the Jedi Temple and you took him right to ceiling, where you could go through a secretive ladder to climb outdoors and watch the stars.

It was your usual secret spot.

“It’s cold”, you remarked, shivering as you took your seat.

“Come here and I’ll get you warm”, said Anakin, making you giggle. “What? I’m serious.”

As you sat next to him, almost at an once you are involved in his arms. You liked how comfortable he was, how cozy it was to sit on the floor and stare into the brightest stars, enjoying the silence that surrounded you both…all the whilst you were enjoying each other’s company.

“You know, after we are properly done with these bloody trials, I would like to take you somewhere…”, so Anakin mused out of the blue.

You were so caught off your guard that even though you were sat down, you managed to lose your balance, nearly making you fall onto his lap. Anakin couldn’t help himself but laugh his ass off.

“Why on earth are you laughing at me for?”

“You are lovely, that is all.”

There was a mere moment where again another silence hanged comfortably between the two of you. Anakin was glancing towards you, praying the Maker you’d finally understand what he’s been trying to tell you.

And when you did… Your heart skipped a beat.

Could it be?

“Ani…Don’t look at me like that”, you whispered, the sound of your voice leaving cut from your lips.

You watched as he enlaced your hands, interlocking your fingers.

“No one has to know.”

“What if…”

You didn’t realize you were dangerously close to him. His scent, however, was like a spell. You tried to be reasonable, fear of the consequences marching against your heart in an evident intern battle.

“What if we fly? Uh? Don’t be afraid, angel. I’m here to silence your insecurities, to guard you well, to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

And just like that your lips were sealed.

***

• Nowadays.

At times, more frequently than perhaps you’d like to admit, you wonder how on earth Obi-Wan and your Master H/N never found out about you and Anakin.

Years have ran since the day you were delightedly surprised by Anakin’s corresponding to your sentiments and yet, your relationship remains a secret to the Jedis—even Ahsoka has no idea what’s been going on between you two.

But this play pretend is tiresome, is getting the best of you sometimes. Every concern when Anakin leaves you to fight away some enemy in a far away planet must be swallowed inside. You deal with it yourself and that is it. Anakin, likewise; but his recklessness often makes him after you.

Today, though, it’s one of those days where Master H/N told you to rest. You’ve been plagued with anxiety, however, as no news of Anakin—who had been chasing after Count Dooku with Obi-Wan—have reached your knowledge.

You decide to sleep, exhausted after your last mission concerning Ventress, resulting in her defeat once and for all, although you were left with new battle scars. But your mind takes you instead to a worst scenario than you’d ever come to picture.

As your eyes close, you dream with fire and volcano. The heat is unbearable to breathe, and one could wonder how one would live in such an environment.

This hell of place stages a major battle. The sound of sabers is familiar to you and it almost draws you unwillingly to the opponents who face each other ferociously. The redhead man is easy to spot: it’s Obi-Wan Kenobi and the next one is…

No. It cannot be.

You gasp for air and for a moment that pair of yellow eyes meet yours and there is absolutely no recognition of who you are.

This is precisely the instant you wake, bathed in salt tears. The dream is no ordinary, this you know. But is it possible to change it?

Anakin, where are you?

You decide to go outdoors, in need of fresh air. You pull your clothes, hoping to find him soon—and some part of you knows he’s about to land, your skin senses it.

You find yourself running, reason clouded by the dream that has distressed you. Often a careful lass, you are careless. Though your steps are silent, they give in your signature. But so far everyone else is too asleep to notice the urgency of your spirit.

And here he is—but not alone. By his side is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Seeing the two of them shoulder-on-shoulder appeases the angst that chokes your throat. And Anakin does not take long to notice you, carrying in his eyes something you cannot identify: what’s there to be seen, relief or eagerness?

You don’t know. But what’s to make all worse is that you unconsciously leave to the shadows so Obi-Wan doesn’t take a glimpse of you. Instead, you move to your secretive spot, still troubled by the dream..but also by your last mission, by a lot of unresolved sentiments.

Anakin knows. He’s sensed your disturbance from afar, strong is the link the two of you share. And now he’s excused of his master’s presence under the pretense of sleeping early, the Jedi knows where to find you.

“Y/Nickname…”

“Ani”, you mumble his name, not running to his arms like you used to do.

With furrowed brows, Anakin joins you, forcing you to look at him.

“What’s the matter? Darkness doesn’t fit you.”

“I haven’t slept well. How was the mission?”, you are resting your face on your knees as you look at him.

His hair is longer, his face now has a scar—acquired precisely when he slipped from the tub, a memory you struggle not to laugh to this day—, his muscles are better shaped, every inch a grown man with nothing to remind you of the reckless and grumpy child you’ve once known.

His eyes, however, hold a spark to something to you unknown, and it’s a dangerous invitation to dive in…

“Don’t do that, love”, says Anakin, holding your face gently with his hands so that way he can be dragged into the depths of your soul. “Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong with you? You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself.”

You hate how smooth he is when he wants to, so easily he knocks your defenses down.

“You wouldn’t understand”, you mumble softly. “There is just too much I can’t even decipher.”

“Try me, my darling. You should know by now you can trust in me”, he rests his forehead against yours, his fingers softly wiping away your tears. “What is it you fear?”

“To lose you”, words are blunted out of you before you know. “To be left alone in this world.”

You close your eyes, hands hesitantly resting over his shoulders all the whilst you feel his puzzled gaze casted at you.

“You know I always wanted you. You live in my heart, you are my destiny. I was meant to be with you as you were meant to be with me.” His lips brush against yours, speaking vows like the bent man he is to you by the pained love he aches for you.

“How can you say you’re mine when everything keeps us apart? We are tied to this Order, and what is else there is a greater danger out there that could keep you from me.” These words are sobbed out as if you are trying to remove a dagger from under your skin.

Anakin looks at you, eyes pained for seeing you distressed. He tries not to read into your thoughts, rather trying to make you speak out what’s troubling you instead.

“Dear dove, sweet princess of mine, I pledge once again that your heart be trusted into my hands. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you not feel this misery that has been plaguing your lovely spirits.”

As you raise your eyes, you eventually give in. You tell him the darkest dream ever so realist that has taken away the little pieces of peace you’ve been trying to purchase ever since you defeated Ventress.

You don’t realize you’ve been putting out with your own traumas until another sob leaves you and you are engulfed by Anakin’s strong arms.

He realizes that the whole secrecy of your relationship has been damaging you both, besides the usual stress. As Anakin starts to weight the cons and pros of staying in Order, the mere possibility that you have to live hurt as you have been outweighs every other question that his mind considered.

“I think I have a solution for us”, he mumbles, insecure at first as if the Jedi is chewing this idea.

You glance up at him, confused.

“Ani? What are you talking about?”

“What if we rewrite stars? What if we toss away all of this hopelessness that seems to engulf us into an endless circle of misery?”

He slowly smiles, watching your reaction as you begin to comprehend what he means.

“Are you suggesting…”

“…that I want to fly with you? That I want to fall with you? That I want to make possible what it seemed impossible before? Aye, lass. I am.”

So many news at once but the gloom in your heart finally sets loose the grip on it.

“Well?”, Anakin knows what your answer is going to be, but he is anxious to hear from you.

You throw your hands around his neck and kiss his lips, sensing the shadows dissipating at long last.

“Nothing will keep us apart anymore.”

“We are going to be free. This I promise you”, he vows you softly.

To the Dark Forces lurking nearby, every plan dies unspoken…

***

Destiny rewritten.

You watch Anakin playing at the yard with the twins as you pat your belly, head resting against the door’s frame. Peace is restored, there is balance and your nightmare has been just that, a nightmare.

“Fate can be changed”, you hear Obi-Wan address you. He’s been a regular visitor, specially after figuring out the reason why so sudden you and Anakin left the order.

In truth, neither Yoda nor Palpatine could predict that your decision would interfere in the clonic wars, being the principal element why the Chancellor was eventually defeated.

“It is the point of the free will after all”, you tell him gladly. “In the end, I had this dream to be thankful for.”

“Some dreams within the right people can be a good mix”, the Jedi Master agrees, eyes still glued on Anakin and his children. “Seeing this happy is worth all. What saddens me is that we could have failed in preventing his fall.”

You turn gently at Obi-Wan and pat his shoulder friendly, smiling.

“Do not blame yourself, Master. We all had roles to play and this is completely fine. What matters is that Palpatine is defeated once and for all.”

“This is an undeniable truth, my dear”, he agrees.

As you leave him with cookies and teas, you turn to your husband, who comes to greet you with Luke over his shoulders, Leia and Soka on his arms. You are still surprised by how strong he is.

“How is my family doing today?”, you inquire happily as you kiss Anakin amidst the children’s “eeeew”, which makes you giggle.

“Very good, why thank you, Mrs Skywalker”, he smiles widely at you whilst telling you the mischiefs he’d been up to with the children.

Seeing that they have visitors, Anakin now drags them back home, so they can meet “Grandpa Ben”. A perfect ending for a far better scenario you could’ve ever dreamed of.

[adudelolwriting]

Lord was dying.

Lord was dying.

He knew his time would come eventually. But she didn't want to die fighting Chosen. Lord never wanted to hurt Chosen, and he wanted to die peacefully next to Chosen's side.

But Lord never got what she wanted, did she?

His vision was dark, now. Every inch of her skin was stinging and burnt. His breathing was labored — it took so much just to breathe in, and then breathe out. 

Lord was dying.

Lord was dead.

Maybe she's been dead since the start. Being created by Noogia3 all those years ago caused him to die. Fighting Chosen these past years caused her to die. 

Being laser blasted by a new hollowhead had caused him to die.

It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it? Spending time with Chosen the past year. Stargazing. Picnics. Baking cookies together. 

Yeah, it was nice, Lord thought to herself as she felt her own life force slowly draining, her color fading, I wouldn't change it for the world.

His eyes felt heavy as he blinked, and in his final breaths, of course he started to hallucinate. 

A coughing fit racked itself through Lord's body. Weakly, she softly said, "hey, Cho, come here often?" A small smile fell on his face, feeling the light trickle of blood fall from his lips. Chosen was crying, for some reason, and Chosen's mouth was moving with no words being said. Chosen looked back over Chosen's shoulder, but there wasn't anything there.

"The silent…. treatment?" Lord coughed again, lungs burning as the charred skin twisted and contorted. Lord wheezed for a couple moments, letting out a breathless laugh. A second hollowhead now was worryingly looking over Lord's body now — the orange one, the one that killed Lord. 

I want to remember the good times, Lord thought as she closed her eyes, I don't want to see the kid who killed me. I want to remember Chosen.

Lord was dead.

Lord was dead.

Lord was dead… 

Right?

He opened his eyes, only to reclose them and hiss in pain. She was not outside anymore. After a moment of shallow breathing, he noticed his breathing felt limited. She opened her eyes once more, and saw she was completely covered in bandages.

This was not what the Afterlife would have been like. Why do you have to heal from the injuries that killed you? That seems ineffective.

Lord looked to his left, and saw an IV drip placed in his arm, with a few different bags of liquid connecting to it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she carefully reached over and yanked the IV out of her arm.

"Hey!! Don't do that!" A voice said, and Lord's head instantly shot over towards a blue stick figure. "It's okay — It's me, Blue? We're trying to help you get better."

Lord's eyes froze on a large scar across the child's face. The scar that she gave them. Lord knew he was a shitty stick, but Cursor, did his personal hell really have to have the child he killed in a haze be his caretaker?

The kid — Blue — called for somestick named Yellow, who was fully dressed in some doctor's outfit. Cliche much?

"Oh good, you're actually awake. You need to keep that IV in, okay? It's giving you some potions and water for your system." Yellow smiled. "I'm just gonna put this IV back in, okay?"

Lord jumped as Yellow was now right next to her. His hand was gently resting on Lord's wrist before she yanked it back, gaining a small shout from the two stick figures in the room. Her lips pulled back, showing her razor sharp teeth as she hissed at these two kids. 

Blue seemed in shock for a moment, before shaking their head. "We're trying to help you, Lord. Can Yellow please put the IV in? We can explain what each liquid is."

Lord… didn't give them her name. "How do… How do you know my name?" She asked, her throat hoarse like she had spent the past four hours screaming.

"Uh—" The two stick figures looked at each other. "Chosen told us. Do… Do you know where you are?"

Lord looked around the room. Now that she took a moment to look at it, she noticed how pixelated and… blocky everything was. Nothing like she's seen before. "Am I dead?"

"What — no! No, you're alive, and we're trying to heal you." Yellow glances over to Blue. "That's… kinda why we need to put the IV back in?"

A thought popped into Lord's head. "Where's Chosen?"

"He's outside, we can get him—" 

Lord cringed instantly. "Chosen doesn't have pronouns." 

"Oh, sorry. Uh, do you want to see Chosen? We can go get h— Chosen for you?" Blue asked. "We just — we really need the IV back, or you're gonna start hurting again."

Lord thought about it for a few moments. "I… I don't know. Does… Chosen even want to see me?"

"Of course! Chosen's still here, waiting for you to wake up. Chosen doesn't know if you want to see Chosen, either." 

"I… I want to see Chosen. Could you explain what… you're putting in my body while you get Chosen?" Lord asked, eyeing the few IV bags. 

Blue perked up as Yellow left the room. Blue explained that there's a water IV, one for fire resistance(??) and one for regeneration(????), and that Lord was already looking better than when she first got here. "We'll have to wait for Yellow to come back so he can put the IV back in your arm." Blue sighs, smiling, though Lord can see the fear in their eyes. "Only me and Yellow are allowed in here, and uh… once Yellow goes through the normal doctor-y stuff, did you want us to leave so you and Chosen could… I don't know, talk, or something?"

"Yeah, I think that'll probably be the best course of action. Why isn't anyone else allowed in here?"

"Well, Yellow's our doctor cause he's super smart, and I know a lot about potions that can help people! Plus, um—" Lord could tell they were making up a lie on the spot "— Yellow doesn't want anyone else to scare you or overcrowd you."

It was clear that they were scared of Lord. It makes sense everyone would be terrified — she's honestly surprised Blue and Yellow were keeping a solid conversation happening with her. "Right." 

A few more minutes passed before Yellow and The Chosen One walked into the room. Even though Chosen's face remains frozen, Lord knows Chosen well enough to see the array of emotions fly through Chosen's eyes. 

"I explained what all the thingies are for," Blue told Yellow, "and you're okay with putting the IV back in, right?" 

Lord nods, not breaking eye contact with Chosen. Yellow went to her left side, and installed a new IV into the crook of her elbow. Gauze was wrapped around her wrist, where she didn't even notice she was bleeding. Once Yellow finished, she saw Blue silently nod, and the two walked out of the room.

Only The Chosen One and The Dark Lord.

The silence was dampening. The two continued to stare at each other, before Lord sighed and tapped the chair next to the bed. "C'mere," Lord mumbled. Chosen walked over, sitting down next to Lord.

"Why did you do it?"

Lord inhaled deeply at that question. "Depends on what you're asking about." His head hit the back of the bed. "The whole virus thing? To enact revenge on Noogia. The… the damn code then took over after you hit me, and I just — I needed to kill you, and… I hurt those kids because I couldn't control myself."

"You killed them."

Lord rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I hurt them, and they're still trying to help me. They should have left me to rot." 

Chosen's eyes soften. "Don't say that, Lord. You know that's not true." Chosen takes her hand in Chosen's own. It looks like Chosen wants to say something, before shaking Chosen's head and going against it.

It's been a few hours since Lord has woken up, and he and Chosen have been talking about mostly random things. Lord was already feeling much better — thank you awesome super healing factor — and Yellow had stopped back in to check on him.

"It looks like everything should be okay. We might give you a few potions of the turtle master to help with pain, but they make you kinda groggy. Other than that, you should be good to go!" Yellow said excitedly while he changed the bandages.

"Oh my cursor," Lord said suddenly as a thought clicked, "you guys are game smugglers."

Yellow's head tilted to the side. "What's that?"

"Taking stuff from a game into the Outernet, or game or whatever. You guys are young for that though, where did you learn it from?"

Yellow's face twisted into confusion. "Uh—"

"They don't know what that is," Chosen said. "They don't live in the Outernet. They live on Noogia's computer." Lord's head whipped around to face Chosen.

"We're on His PC?" She asked. "I swear to Cursors, I'm going—"

"—To do nothing. This is these kids' home. He's… changed. They have it better than I did."

The Dark Lord opened his mouth to retaliate, to say 'we need to fight back! For what He did to you!' but he can see the look in Chosen's eyes. The tiredness. She shut her mouth quickly.

Yellow silently finished changing Lord's bandages, doing an awkward clap. "Well! Looks like you're ready to go!"

"Thanks, kid. Sorry about the whole… y'know. Thing." Wow. Great job.

"It's okay—" It really wasn't. "— Something similar kinda happened before. Um — heads up, King and Purple are here so the desktop's a bit crowded right now." Lord gave the kids a thumbs up before standing up from the bed with the help of Chosen.

Yeah, this was fun while it lasted, Lord thought, opening the door while leaning on Chosen's shoulder, but it'll be even better after this is over.

[shiningqueen]

silvertongue, hawk eyes. / mihawk x fem!oc

genre: slice of life, relationship growth, slow burn. rating: sfw / e for everyone warnings: none for this part. characters: dracule mihawk + fay (a female oc) summary: a storm brings a castaway to kuraigana and with his interest midly piqued, mihawk allows fay to stay with him temporarily.

author's note: the start of my multi-part series that ive been slowly chipping at for months. this is my attempt to make a coherent series to explore fay as a character, and to share her relationship growth with mihawk.

Two days have passed since the storm finally abated.

Two days since Dracule "Hawkeye" Mihawk found himself with unexpected company in the form of a dark haired woman simply named Fay.

At the time, he'd been watching the storm rage over Kuraigana when his haki picked up on some distant human signature a midst the raging waves and boiling gray skies. There had been the occasional passerby to his island home but none had ever landed on his shores. He'd been expecting to sense the presence fade or be completely wiped out by the maelstrom.

Except it hadnt. The presence edged closer and closer, until it stopped and was idle for an hour. Mihawk had been intrigued but not enough to go investigating personally. He figured any unfortunate soul to wash up on his shore would succumb to the dangers of the wildlife and that was perfectly acceptable to him. He did not care for unexpected company even on his good days.

When it had become evident the intruder was heading in his general direction, he'd paid a sliver of more attention to it. To them. The Warlord couldn't determine gender on haki alone, but what he could determine was they were likely some stray pirate or sailor. Nobody really worth the effort of killing himself. Probably.

Yet how intriguing that they evaded the prowling humandrills and was eventually lingering outside on his very doorstep. That was when Mihawk decided to try and waylay the intruder and send them off accordingly, or just dispatch them to save himself whatever trouble they might possibly bring. Part of him sort of hoped they were a pirate, if only for the faux challenge it could become.

Contrary to the inclination of wanting even a mockery of a fight, the swordsman found himself loitering in the foyer as the grand doors creaked open just slightly and in slipped a sodden, exhausted woman. She slumped back against the entryway almost immediately and he'd assessed her in seconds. Sea damp sailors clothing of loose deck trousers, plain shoes and a bell-sleeved shirt over a black long sleeved undershirt. She wore a wide leather belt weighed by a few pouches and - oh- a knife?

Purely for utility, he determined, not truly a weapon. His discerning stare ended on her face, which was pale and shadowed from days without proper rest. Ah. She was looking at him too. He'd caught the flicker of recognition in those tense seconds of silence, and yet she held his gaze as if he weren't one of the most infamous people in the world. Alright, maybe he was curious now. Her eyes had been the color of storm clouds and her hair a wild tangle of dark brown, she looked a few years younger than him if he cared to guess.

"Did you think to slip in without notice, little mouse? Where's your bravado?" He'd drawled tonelessly, arms crossed over his chest and the weight of Yoru comfortable at his back.

He expected to see some flicker of fear or stuttered anxiety but instead, she'd quirked a tired smile and shook her head at him. "It drowns in the sea, will fish it out later." The lilt of a foreign accent curled her rasping voice, and the glib retort was almost amusing. Either she was too worn out to recognize the risk of being rude to him, or she was foolishly without caution. It could have been both.

Mihawk kept his scowling indifference in place, "You might join it in short order, what do you want? You are intruding in my home." She seemed just an unfortunate castaway, his senses told him there was nothing even remotely dangerous to her. Pity that.

Her face creased with perplexity and she'd mumbled something he didnt catch, then followed the incomprehensible words with, "Sorry, words hard. Do you know hand-speak?" He'd watched as her hands lifted to make a series of gestures in tandem. It was Sign language. Mihawk recognized it from having learned the workings of it in his youth. It had been awhile since he'd come across the need to utilize such a skill.

"Yes," he replied tersely, using one hand to make the accompanying affirmative gesture, battling his exasperation with some sliver of patient interest. He might as well humor her preferred method of communication for a brief time.

She smiled again with gratitude and with slightly shaky hands, Signed efficiently to explain herself. 'Sorry to intrude, my boat was attacked and then sank. I swam here.' A pause before she went on, 'I hoped to rest, I did not know this was your home.' The stranger then clasped her palms together and gave him a very shallow bow, a sincere gesture of deference. Mihawk thought it at odds with her first impression; a mercurial sort, wasnt she?

He considered her for a long moment and then decided, given that she was just some castaway and neither pirate or marine, he could deign to be hospitable. "You have strange fortune," he said plainly and turned, "follow me." He left for the stairwell and heard the soft shuffle of her following him.

Mihawk figured he would lend her a spare room, there was at least one other in his castle with a bed and furnishings not yet tossed out, then send her along in the dinghy stowed in the west wing. Nothing more than a passing stranger he'd not likely to see again.

"It is just you here?" The silence between them broken by her speaking again, he titled his head to peer at her from the corner of his eye. She kept stride a respectful distance behind him, but the tremor in her shoulders told him she was fighting to stay conscious every step.

"It was."

An audible huff, no, a laugh. She laughed at his sarcastic retort. Mihawk hadn't met anyone aside from perhaps Akagami that expressed mirth at his sardonic tendencies. That this complete stranger showed no wariness towards him was certainly novel.

"What is your name?" The swordsman redirected, turning down a hallway and slowing his pace slightly to walk adjacent with his guest. He watched as she wrinkled her brow a moment, "Fay," no surname attached but he did notice she provided a Sign-name as well. A simple gesture of combined nouns he couldnt place right away.

Mihawk did not feel compelled to introduce himself in turn and beckoned her to a door that led into what he sufficed as a 'guest room', "You may sleep in here, we will speak more when you wake."

Stormy eyes appraised him but he could not determine what crossed her mind, her exhaustion was a faint buzz along the edge of his own senses. Fay gave him another smile though, "Thank you." He supposed he could appreciate her courtesy now, but couldn't help the quirk of a brow when she Signed 'May your rest be peaceful too.'

He made a dismissive gesture and turned to leave, hearing the creak of the door as she slipped inside and out of the hallway.

At present she was still asleep at dusk of the second day, where he had taken detour to peer into the shadowed room to see her bundled under blankets and breathing deeply. The dormancy of her presence told him just how utterly drained she'd been when stumbling into his castle. Mihawk was admittedly a little impressed she had managed to stay alert and moving on sheer stubborn willpower after surviving the season's first true maelstrom. Let alone she had supposedly survived being attacked as well.

Her avoidance of the humandrills was likely pure luck, she was in no way a fighter from what he had gleamed initially. Still curious that a lone woman was sailing the Grand Line seemingly undefended.

Perhaps she had been part of some wayward crew as a miscellaneous member? Or a merchant? There were plenty of variables to consider - until he stopped himself from musing too long over Fay's origins. Why did it matter to him? Once she was strong enough to walk without stumbling, he would provide her the means to leave. Water Seven was a short distance along the edge of the Florian Triangle, he would point her in that direction and be done with it.

Mihawk roamed his gaze over the drape of her discarded belt on the bedframe and idly hoped she had retained her Log Pose, he hadn't seen it on her person. Another thing to brush aside and deal with when she woke.

He pulled the door softly shut and left to his own chambers, thinking she might sleep for a third day.

[freebooter4ever]

i talked with jilly bean for as long as her kids would let her today, and she's been trying to undo the guilt i feel over grandma telling me i should just choose to not be sick and stop seeing doctors. anyway i was describibg the 'elemental' diet to jillian and she said she would fly down to LA to work here remotely and take care of me for the two weeks it takes to kill off the bacteria if i end up having to do that (i still have two rounds of back to back antibiotics to try first). so that might be my early november right there.

but as i was crying a little over how during the bad hours i cant do anything like read or even watch tv because its hard for my brain to follow, she was asking if there is anything i do that even is remotely comforting or distracting. and i was like LOL. well. and admitted that ive been scrolling through old hockey gifs and pictures and i was like this is evgeni and sent her the video:

Ok so some backstory jilly bean and i grew up together, both of us living in the same little neighborhood for 18 years. And our high school football team was like...state champions the entire time i think ( i say think because the only time i realized i should have the 'high school experience' and actually go to games was as a senior ) ( we definitely won state that year lol ). Except like... Our graduating class was some of the first championship years so the football field was more rudimentary and only the popular kids and band members and families could get seats on the bleachers (the yellow arrow):

The entire bit circled in blue did not exist in my day lol. anyway my point is if you were kind of a weirdo and didnt have friends to give you seats you just ended up wandering around the track (the bit i colored purple). I never paid much attention to the actual football game i was just there to support jillian who desperately wanted to feel like a normal teenager. She was the sports fan, i was the nerd who forced her to watch lord of the rings.

Jillian would make up dances while we walked back and forth on the endline to stay warm. We were not cheerleaders by any stretch of the imagination - this is washington state in the fall and winter, back then 90% of the time it was raining, we were bundled up in jeans and sweatshirts. But my favorite of her 'cheers' was the 'ewok dance' which consisted of humming star wars music and a lot of less flexible leg lifts. Watching geno's uncoordinated jumping around and waving the towel took both jillian and i back about twenty years i think, lol.

ANYWAY my point is she approves:

🤣🤣🤣

See turnabout is fairplay though because even longer ago when we were extremely awkward preteens in middle school, while i was transitioning from my historical pirates phase to my elves phase, jillian was becoming increasingly obsessed with baseball. It wouldnt be until POTC was released that finally our interests collided and we both decided pirates were the coolest. In the meantime, 12 year old jillian went online searching for a brett bo*one desktop background for her family's computer. This story could end really inappropriately because 90s internet but instead jillian just happened to find a relatively tame photo edit that stuck boone's head on top of an extremely musclar angel with feathered wings and wearing nothing but a diaper. I mean you think sports fans are creative now...thats nothing compared to early 90s geocities. She made this 'boonie angel' her family's computer background much to the amusement of her computer scientist father.

'boonie angel' quickly became an inside joke. At one point jillian ended up with a lifesize sticky cut out on the wall of her room of actual boone hitting a home run. And the only reason i ever went to seattle baseball games was to support jillian's ridiculous crush (our other friend nuri only came for the stadium sushi which was all the rage during the ich*iro era). And i would randomly gift jillian with cards depicting the signature stick figure 'boonie angel' like this guy enjoying the rose garden yesterday (note the diaper, that was important for his modesty):

Keep in mind boonie angel was like...a thirty year old man. Nothing about this made sense, to this day i have no idea why jillian latched so hard onto this player. But back then preteen me was crushing hard on fictional elves who were immortal thousands of years old so i couldnt exactly judge (my favorite was kyrtian from elvenborn who was this reclusive military genius with a heart of gold who tried to hide behind a veneer of 'madness' to avoid the evil elves and was suddenly thrust into the spotlight when the rich and powerful elves realized they could exploit kyrtian's academic talent)(he was so much more complex and interesting than legolas and also he shared my daddy issues).

So what im sayin is i enabled her ridiculousness, and i should have known she'd be more than willing to enable mine lmaooooo.

ok but now im wondering what geno would look like as an angel with a diaper....

[sunwarmed-ash]

Heyyy, me again, I'm feeling curious now

8: Talk about the thing you are most proud of.

9: Talk about little things on your body that you like the most.

14: Talk about a vacation.

22: Talk about your worst fear.

36: Talk about your guilty pleasures.

hi!!!!!!!!!!! 💜😍

8: My view of myself. I have been through my fair share of trauma, toxic relationships and bad home lives for me to spend a good portion of myself internalizing my pain and hating myself for it. 2020 was an all time low and it's been a long crawl to how I feel about myself now. But I really am proud of myself. for not giving up. for reaching out and getting help. for continuing to find the things that make me happy and release the things that don't. for continuing to do the long slog of tasks that keep me running so I can help other people <3

9: Aww i like this one alot! okay so obvi I love my tattoos, I love the colors and all the thought and meaning behind them. But I also really like how my piercings look in my ears and face haha. Weirdly enough Ive also grown to like my scars. I'm still fucking here despite everyones attempts and thats pretty powerful to see :D uh last thing, hmmm, oh! i have this weird collection of freckles that I think looks like a stick figure dude cheering

14. LOLOL okay so my dad likes to say how he has this black cloud because every time we try to go on vacation or him specifically something goes wrong. While this is coincidentally true, he is also a super negative person so its really his attitude that dooms him.

anyway the first time we tried to go to disneyworld hurricane Frances wiped out florida. we defaulted to SOUTH DAKOTA to see Mt. Rushmore...... when we finally got to go to disney a year or two later my bag got flagged because my mom can't live a second without her hairspray and shoved two cans in my bag. post 9/11 they were REALLY paranoid about hairspray 🤦‍♀️

another time we went to lake tahoe and the fucking place nearly burnt down. the smoke and ash was so bad i broke out in a physical rash and couldnt breathe. also it was the vacation i got my first period so it was arguably the WORST vacation ive ever been on lol

22. worst fear is def dolls. Like those ventriloquist puppets are the worst imo and then its like all porcelain dolls. fucking nasty creepy things do not need to exist 😆

36. oh man, making my blorbos queer and then dooming them by the narrative, making my blorbos fuck, uhhhh, every version of spiderman everything ever, my 90s and 00 emo bands, upcying everything I can to save the earth another few minutes

🌮taco bout asks

[the-hinky-panda]

Strings: Part II

Title: Strings

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Les Packer x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Les had been high school sweethearts. You're going to be a music teacher, he's going to climb the ranks of the SAMDINO MC. The only thing that stands in your way is his mentally unstable brother, Isaac. Things fall apart and fifteen years later, your daughter calls Les for help when you're in a coma and she's trying to figure out how to stay out of foster care. Les is faced with figuring out if you daughter is his or possibly Isaac's. Either way, he can't walk away for a second time from you and your daughter.

TW: This chapter has a mention of rape.

Les Packer is a tough son of a bitch and there is very little that surprises or unnerves him. Seeing you lying in a hospital bed, tubes and IVs and monitors surround you makes his heart race and his palms sweat. The constant beeping of your heartbeat, the whoosh of the ventilator, the ticking of your brain waves are all hopeful signs that you’ll survive this but the constant noise grates at his nerves. Your coloring is off, your eyes closed, your hands are still. He remembers you always being so animated, bright, and full of life. You didn’t stay still for longer than necessary.

You’re almost unrecognizable. 

Almost. 

Zoey goes through the routine of setting down her backpack in one of the pastel vinyl chairs in the room, opening the blinds, and putting fresh water in a plastic vase of drooping roses. She picks up the dropped petals and drops them into the small trash can in the bathroom. The routine has come so naturally to her, she seems to forget that he’s even in the room at the moment. It’s when she turns from the trash can that she seems to finally notice him. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” 

Les smooths a hand over the soft leather of his kutte, wishing he could touch you. But it’s been so long, too much damage hangs between the two of you. Damage he had hoped one day to fix but it seems time may have run out. “It’s been sixteen years.” 

Your hair has been braided, the thick rope draped over the side of your bruised neck and shoulder. Zoey carefully undoes the plait and gently brushes your hair. There’s no movement from you whatsoever, no flicker of eye movement, tic of your cheek. He steps up to the other side of the bed and slips his hand into yours. His fingertips brush over yours, looking for the familiar callouses he had come to love feeling against his skin. But they’re not there anymore. Another thing lost. 

Zoey turns those blue-green eyes towards him, studying his face with a shrewd intelligence, as she rebraids your hair. She almost looks like Isaac in her intensity, her planning and scheming. “She told me my father died before I was born.” 

It’s almost a challenge but more of a question. He wonders if she went home last night and recognized her eyes in the mirror, that she saw the similarities that he did. That she has the same questions he does: who is her father? There’s only one person who can answer that and you may never be able to solve that mystery for them. 

He understands, with almost a sad resignation, why you would have said that and it only seems to confirm his suspicions. He stays quiet, neither confirming or denying anything. He had been hopeful last night when he had returned home that Zoey had been his own child, born out of passion, love, and joy. Instead, evidence is pointing to his unstable brother and his off the charts intelligence. This struggle brings back another time with stunning clarity when he struggled with the idea of Zoey being his daughter or his niece. 

He’d been standing in front of your door for ten minutes, squeezing and twisting the soft stuffed rabbit in his hand. This was the third time he’s ridden down to Santee, a suburb of San Diego that was dilapidated and falling down. He wished you would get a better lock on your door, carry mace or a knife on your person. But he did see how the community treats you and it’s with nothing but kindness. 

Especially now that the baby was born. 

A little girl with your dark hair and bright blue eyes. She’s beautiful and fierce. And he wants nothing more than to protect you both. But he can’t. That night at the clubhouse, in the middle of the chaos of celebration with a group of Sons from Seattle, proved he couldn’t protect you. That’s why he didn’t blame you for leaving him and San Bernardino. You deserved so much better, as does the little girl you’ve been gifted. 

He took an envelope out of his back pocket. It had a note, words filled with regret, bitterness, and a need for forgiveness, that he had spent hours writing. It also had $500 in it, a pitiful amount to help as best he can with this burden you’ve taken on yourself. He wanted you to know he realized just how much he failed you. How he failed your child. How desperate he was to make it up to you both, if it was at all possible. But then he recalls that night with razor sharp clarity:  you in the dim light of the clubhouse, holding your ripped blouse closed, a dark navy shirt with bright yellow lemons on it. It’s a sunny, happy shirt that you only wear on special occasions. There was a thin rivulet of blood running from your nose, some of it already smeared as you had tried to wipe it away. Your eyes, dark ringed with smudged mascara, downcast and tear filled as you slipped out the backdoor. 

He removed the note from the envelope. He didn’t deserve forgiveness for that. Not yet at least. When he trades in his Sergeant at Arms flash for the Vice President, and then the President’s flash, when he officially takes Isaac’s kutte from him and banishes him for good from the club and San Bernardino, then he can come ask for your forgiveness. Until that happens, he has no right to invade your life.  So he set down the stuffed rabbit with the envelope of money in front of your door and left. 

“Mr. Packer?”

“Les.” He chuckles. “Well, when CPS comes around, better call me Uncle Les.” 

Zoey finishes off your braid and ties the end, a small smile on her face. “Uncle Les. I like that.” 

He likes Uncle Les. 

He would prefer Dad.

[gadunkie]

rant post about the online queer community

hey after going outside and talking to real life people for a while Ive come to the conclusion that most of the online queer community is just horrible for queer people. hi reddit today Im going to ramble on about how the queer space on the internet has somehow regressed back into separation under a more progressive and performative light. so after being on tumblr for like, fucking 7-8 years or some shit as well as experiencing other queer spaces on other social media platforms (twitter and reddit, mostly twitter) for only a couple years, Ive come to the conclusion that people are so caught up in their own asses that theyve completely misunderstood and forgot why the queer community exists. side note: I dont care how messy this post is or if the points made are all over the place, this is tumblr.com who gives a shit.

as far as Im concerned, a lot of non-queer and especially religious people really dont like us queers. unfortunately we were all born in a world where we suffer as a minority under laws and power that would really rather have us killed than working together. as such a collective of queer people started banding together under a community where we were finally allowed a space to be ourselves and live as people. the community consists of fags, dykes, transsexuals and whoever was in-between or outside of those terms. our relation comes from how we are rejected from living normal lives for simply trying to express romance or identity in a way that would finally make us feel alive. so it would only make sense to band together and make sure each of us finally have a home and a life we always wanted to live, surrounded by people who would finally accept us for who we are, right?

ya!!!11!!11one thats the whole point of the queer community, to band together and finally be treated as people. but the one problem that I see nowadays is that the current queer community just doesnt fucking do that. Im bad at formulating problems in an essay-like way so Im just gonna make a list of things and explanations underneath ok? :) :) :) 1. the queer community unfairly fetishes women: now theres nothing wrong with liking women sexually or romantically or whatever, in fact it doesnt correlate with the above sentence at all. Ive noticed in my time on using the internet, that queer people tend to hate or forget people who arent women. whether they are men, or nonbinary, or both, or none at all. women have a much larger audience than other queer people and its stupid. its gotten to the point where I forgot that the trans flag included women, men, and those who dont identify with either. I just got used to seeing them depicted with women or feminine figures that arent cis. I literally didnt make the connection until a few days ago that people other than women completely belong under that community as well, yet Ive seen so much trans discussion that only involve women and no one else. lets change that please, people who dont identify as women belong with the rest of the trans community. I feel ridiculous saying that because I shouldnt feel like I have to even formulate that sentence at all.

2. the majority of the queer community doesnt care about brown people: now there are a lot of online queer people who arent actively or intentionally trying to be racist but I cant help but notice that they tend to forget about brown people a lot, specifically black people now that I think about it a bit more. you guys remember when a new version of the pride flag came out and it looked the exact same but they added brown and black colors onto the flag? strange that at the same time the blm protests were also really popular and part of current events at the time as well, its almost as if it was simply a performative gesture to signify what should have already been obvious. even after those colors were added, black people were just forgotten again. Im not even going to sugarcoat it I dont think the majority of the online queer community would even care if black people just died, because they already dont. but this isnt just about black people either, anyone with darker skin tones, no matter the ethnic group, are either used for diversity gestures or completely forgotten about overall. it has been pointed out multiple times that tumblr staff has actively silenced or banned accounts belonging to brown people. actually the only time I saw tumblr even care about shadow banning was when they started doing it to trans women, what a fucking shit show. its so easy to care about people no matter their skin color its literally so fucking easy, why is it impossible for the majority of this community to do that.

3. why are we fucking separating ourselves from each other: hi Im sure youve noticed that Ive been saying the word "queer" over and over again. first of all, if it bothers you, grow up. the queer community have fought for decades to reclaim phrases used against us dont give it power again. second of all, I prefer saying queer over lgbtqia+ because it unites us all under one word rather than an acronym pointing out each little category of queer people. theres nothing wrong with trying to create an identity for yourself that means a lot to you and makes you feel more comfortable for yourself, but I have to argue and say that certain labels just seem pointless and belong under ones that have already existed before their creation. yet I dont blame people for using different ones than the labels that have already existed because I think we collectively failed to inform people that those labels can have multiple meanings. bisexual doesnt just mean you like cis men and cis women, it means you like anyone you want to. transgender doesnt mean you are now the opposite of your assigned gender, it just means that you arent cis. it also doesnt mean that you need to have surgery done on you or that you wear different clothes than the norm either. although I see the point of creating extra labels, I ultimately think they do more harm than good. we have to stick together to survive, any more individual groups then we are as good as gone.

those are the general points that Ive wanted to make anyway. I would love to type more but I have a feeling that the reading comprehension on this site wouldnt survive the first two paragraphs.

the last thing I want to say is that you should find more ways to be together than try and exclude each other, because while youre calling yourself a "foxgirl bi lesbian enby demiboy" there are queer people in real life being kidnapped and mutilated for simply trying to exist.

please for the love of everything that keeps us alive and safe, find ways to stick together.

[fleouriarts]

who are your biggest artistic influences my furry friend? we had art classes together for years but i still feel like i don’t know 😭

😭😭😭 honestly thats probably cus a lot of my artistic influences are specifically internet artists that ive been following for several years and not things i couldve brought up in art class. you know that lame ass mr smith wouldve hated me if i said 'yeah i draw like this cus of some bts fanart girlie on twitter'. thankfully i have the Archivist's Temperament and save like literally everything thats had an effect on my style... so below is a journey thru my artistic influences (and various insp folders on my computer) as far as i can remember

of course the most basal Dorian Influence is disney movies. you are my brother in arms in the lion king fandom so you know this. whenever i am feeling extremely artistically bankrupt i try to revitalize myself by rewatching the lion king, atlantis, and treasure planet. and also the prince of egypt but thats dreamworks LOL

in 2016 i found the first "online" artists i distinctly remember wanting to imitate, which were sara kipin and celia lowenthal because i was obsessed with how they used color to block out their illustrations. ive also been following dimetrodone(/dimetrodrawn/deinocheirus) on here since 2016 and love all the shapes and colors in her work

in 2017 i started doing more detailed shading because i saw bts fanart by the artist tyu_naxx on twitter and loved how they did it (below is like THE piece that made me change my whole shit up)

around then is also when i started trending towards using limited palettes and that was mostly inspired by various national parks promo artworks that would only have like 5 colors in them. wish i remembered who made these but heres ancient scans of some postcards i got at sequoia national park that changed me

in early 2019 i started wanting my style to be more cartoony so i would constantly peruse the backlogs of kiwi, officialspec, skunkes and mimiadraws to get whatever inspiration i could from them

in late 2019 i completely pivoted for some reason and started doing lineless rendered semirealistic stuff instead. i think that was mostly cus i hated doing lineart. one of my biggest inspirations in that era was atissi

in 2020 i remember i went crazy stupid on using glow effects and chromatic aberration on stuff and i genuinely think all of it can be traced to this ONE piece of bts fanart by lordizxy on twitter like i was fully obsessed (putting it below also in case it gets deleted somehow)

mid 2021 was when i got tired of semirealism and thought it was too amorphous and restricting so i went back to cartoony shit. i was still looking at the artists i listed for early 2019 but i also added artists like iplidl, catmunches, and chunkysoup22 to the mix

2022 was an inspirationless nightmare i have no clue what i was doing for that entire year. the artblock was BAD. i mostly just looked at art from all the artists i mentioned before while artistically wandering in circles. a lot of this was me trying and failing to figure out whether i wanted to do more dynamic yet less rendered art or... the opposite of that

thankfully in 2023 i finally FIGURED THAT SHIT OUT. i would say the current dorian art era started with this silly drawing of graydon and riley hivemind as a dogboy and a catboy ⬇️

you can kinda see the influences of all the cartoonists i listed above but a lot of the way i draw now is just. me trying to not make myself hate doing art. ive always hated redoing a line 30000000 times for clean lineart so now its sketchy. rendering my art was making my drawings feel super stiff so now thats all messy too. etc etc

i think Right Now the artists i go to for inspiration the most are still kiwi and skunkes, but i also found the artist robottoast recently who makes RIDICULOUSLY good furry art, its so full of life and personality and i definitely need to commission them someday. the most recent singular piece thats changed my whole shit up is this scott pilgrim fanart by benadieshekiel (also below) because i really liked how the clothes were fully rendered while the skin and hair are less detailed with clear lineart. so sometimes i do that too

ok i think that is as full of a chronicle of Dorian Influences that i can give you rn. i was not lying when i said i wanted to yap. hope you enjoy <3

[aestheticvoyage2024]

Day 71: Monday March 11, 2024 - "This was 32 months"

32 months was a memorable one - put a pin in it. It was a stand out mile marker. The one where the tantrums hit, and we soaked it all up with humor and skill. Personally, Id been ready and wondering when it would hit - all that work Ive been doing so hard on myself is work I was doing, I know now, for 32 months. Ready to be mindful intentional skillful. Ready to be free of fear and full of joy. And William provided a lot of joy. I likened it to running the rapids, which once I figured out how, began to sharpen and enjoy the skill of running right to the edge, but preventing the meltdown, in a healthy productive way. And taking every opportunity to practice and show repair. Finally, we're here and we were ready and making a big positive impact on William's future. He developed hard this month, and we loved bearing witness to it! And we were so blessed to have backup most of this month from Grandma, visiting from cold wintery Michigan. Some of the most eventful tantrums she got to witness included meltdowns over not getting his third popsicle or wanting to climb in and out of the car seat on his own. There is also the one where I caught him trying to climb into the freezer to find Ice Cream. In full disclosure - Id probably meltdown if you interrupted my perfect plan too. All perfectly reasonable explorations of the boundaries of his horizon. Totally fine with him testing and challenging. I can hold space for that. I can be his sturdy leadership.

Not only was 32 months the tantrums era, this was also William's Beyonce Era. Not sure who first put Beyonce in his brain - but fairly certain we can blame my Mom for throwing Crazy in Love on Youtube into his little 32 month brain, after sitting on the toilet looking at the A is Awesome book. B was you know who. If he falls hopelessly in love with curvy mocha colored goddess, we'll know perfectly well where it came from. At 32 months you flipped from Elmo and Abby, to Beyonce.

A lot of great weather this month and we spent a lot of time reading springtime books - Mama has been keeping us fully supplied with new seasonal books and as we flip into the 33rd month we're reading a lot of St Pats books. He's been mostly accident free, and fully potty trained and multiple times while we were out at the Donut Shop or the Taco Shop, he'd pop a squat right in the parking lot. Once, at Pacos, to get Flan, he sat feet off Speedway and watched all the cars whiz by, while whizzing in the back of Mama's car. So memorable.

These are fun times. Riding and running the rapids and I just tell myself to be present, keep showing up, and dont miss a thing. Its a wild time, but such an important time to test your skill. I really feel like we're setting a positive foundation for the next several years. I keep pouring it all in, and we'll see where it goes in the 33rd month!

Favorite Food: Donuts

Favorite Song: Beyonce - Crazy In Love

Favorite Book: Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in Daddy's bed

Favorite Show: Gecko's Garage / Troy The Train / "Bumper Cars"

Favorite Toy(s): Monster Trucks bought with his own money paper

Best Phrase/ Word: “No, I Dont Want That!"

Favorite Favorite: Beyonce. No, Real Beyonce

Least Favorite: Sleeping in his own bed.

Big First:  First Physical Tantrum, First I'm Sorry, First time buying toys with his own money (Valentines money from Aunt Jane)

Song:Beyonce - Crazy In Love

Quote: “Finding the good inside can often come from asking ourselves one simple question: “What is my most generous interpretation of what just happened?” ― Becky Kennedy, Good Inside

This was 31 months This was 30 months This was 29 months This was 28 months This was 27 Months This was 26 months This was 25 months This was 24 Months This was 23 Months This was 22 Months This was 21 Months This was 20 Months This was 19 months This was 18 months This was 17 months This was 16 months This was 15 months This was 14 months This was 13 months This is 12 Months This is 11 months This was 10 months This was 9 months This was 8 months This was 7 months This was 6 months This was 5 months

[canadjester]

it is storytelling saturday and i am ready to bother people >:)

do you prefer writing or drawing? and/or, what was your most recent aha! moment in regards to either?

happy storytelling saturday and thank you for the ask!!

i would actually say that i prefer drawing since i understand. like. everything that goes into it better since it's been a dedicated thing i've been trying to improve at for longer... me deciding to get dedicated at writing too was actually a recent event!

drawing and writing are both very different hobbies, since writing needs my whole brain so i can't really put stuff on in the background or do it absentmindedly. plus, writing is a lot more of a continuous process for one final work, wherein drawing takes a lot less time and you get that final piece and the serotonin that comes with it quickly. which, i suppose that's why writeblr is a good place to be! if i had to write for years and never have anyone look at it ever until i get my final product done i would go insane... so finding a lot of people to talk with about it, look at what i've got done so far, share snippets with, etc. etc. is a good deal. but tldr, i like drawing better but writing is good and being here will help me write more!!!

as for my most recent "aha" moment, i would say that it's, like. when i figured out that i don't actually NEED to color things? and if i do, i can just do it sketchily and low-effort and be done with it. because i really do not like coloring since i never fully figured out how to (i'm still trying to figure out my preferred method even though ive been drawing since 2018) and i never wanted to post my stuff since i thought that if it wasn't colored then it's "unfinished", but like. technically it's finished if i say it is. so i can just post sketches exclusively if i'd like. and therefore that is what i do.

[analtyranny]

let’s play gore screaming show (part 1)

so i’ve been curious about this game since...before i was old enough to play it, probably. i listened to the OP pretty frequently and would try looking up info on the story now and again. problem is, it came out 16 years ago with no sign of an english release. i’d also heard rumors that black cyc games are programmed weird and impossible to insert text into, or something? so basically i gave up on it and moved on to greener more euphoric pastures

UNTIL NOW

it FINALLY got an english release in november 2022, and i found this out...on the last day of a JAST sale. so i figured, fuck it, no time like the present

which brings us here today. is this game good? no clue! is it gory? most likely! but nothing can faze me after euphoria, right? ......r-right?

WARNING: THIS GAME IS XTREMELY SCRAY. VIOWER EXCRETION IS ADVISD

due to tumblr’s bullshit TOS im gonna be heavily censoring scenes. you’ll have to play it yourself to get those. but also it should be fine if i post just certain key phrases from them. it wouldn’t be an eroge playthrough without “The meatus...!” after all

this OP kicks ass, highly recommended. 18+ warning though for some of the included CGs. ...not sure how it survived on youtube for 14 years

okay before i start im just gonna talk about what i know about the story, i.e. what little information i’ve gleaned from my “research”

so the plot is this dude moves back to the town he grew up in and lives with his hot older cousin. he will probably fuck her. sorry. don’t kill the messenger. he reunites with his childhood friends who are all girls with color-coded names. he will probably fuck them. for some reason there's an ossan with a gun. he will probably fuck him?

so whoever you try to date, you get harassed by this purple-haired little girl and her creepy murder clown buddy and you have to stop them from killing your three weed-smoking girlfriends

also that caution tape says "delicious"

this boob lady’s in the OP too but idk who she is

then there’s a scene of a little girl going home. it goes back and forth between this and boob lady telling the story

oh, there's the clown guy

hey it’s the groupchat

so boob lady’s going "ohh everyone's looking at me im getting fucked by eyeballs" while the little girl talks to clown guy. who then eats her. cronch

hey look, it's our protagonist...'s POV!

...or not? looks like the actual narration is in 3rd person instead of 1st, like most VNs ive played. huh.

also, only three years? i got the impression it was longer than that

this road sure looks familiar. any little girl bones around here? conspicuous bloodstains?

h-haha, you sure it's supposed to be red-brown?

i missed capping it but he crashes into purple girl on his bike and she says "welcome home :)" but when he tries to apologize she's not there

and suddenly he's in a different place... and then he gets a flat tire

AND he's late for high sch--COLLEGE

on his first day, too

his teacher's like "how tf did you get lost when you used to live here?" it's those damn warp panels, man

all my teachers just talked to me like i was braindead and/or a toddler

he will probably fuck him

short king

red one sighted!!!

here's the blue one but kyoji doesn't remember her name

and finally, the yellow one. apparently she has huge boobs. i guess she's not a childhood friend but used to live where he went before, and conveniently also transferred here

it's normal for legal adults to live alone

school sux, come get some yoofies

we've got our...awkwardly shoehorned first choice! from top to bottom, it's: 

red

blue (first playthrough) 

yellow