#maybe an edible will help right that's worth a try

[cyclogenesis]

I finished and posted the Ryan/Hugh fic yesterday and I feel so bereft now man...like I miss it. It was such a nice distraction from everything to be able to wake up and look forward to working on it and have this lovely little escapist world to go to where everything's beautiful and problems are solvable and love makes it all worth it. I hope it makes other people happy too now.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Simon Kalivoda - In a Relationship

warning : kiss, fluff, tiny hurt/comfort

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°It was love at first sight for the blond when he saw you for the first time, he couldn't suppress the love-struck grin on his lips, you were just too beautiful. Above all, the school mascot couldn't be stopped from trying to get you to notice him, from letters in class that went to you, to handing in the muffin from the cafeteria that was the best and mostly the only edible one. Or his favorite was when he brought a movie. After endless attempts, how can you say no to a guy like Simon?

°From the moment you first met, he seemed to never stop loving you. Not a day went by when you didn't see him smiling, his head in his hands, looking at you dreamily. ,,You're just so pretty,” he always defended himself when you told him he could leave it alone, and at first you thought he was trying to get rid of you...no chance, Simon didn't leave your side. Why should he when he had the most beautiful girl in town and could hold her hand.

°Wherever you go or drive, he entertains you with his jokes, movie facts and maybe a few pills, although this only spurs him on more to give you compliments. ,,Even if your hand fell off, I'd still hold it,” he said during a car ride when he traced your knuckles with his fingers. Simon just loved holding your hand or both hands, feeling your warmth and life. A warmth that he always radiated, even the metal of his rings seemed to warm up.

°When it's getting cooler, he'll look forward to movie dates, buy snacks and wear his witch makeup or go as a character from one of the movies, ,,Welcome to Simon's fantastic movie empire, my sweet,” he opened the door while wearing a blue overall and his hair was more disheveled than usual, and she guessed Michael Myers, which she was right about. The sweet thing about Simon, was that he was so fascinated by horror movies and popped one popcorn after the other, he jumped at a jump scare, took your hand and clung to you, laughing, ,,My sweet protector,” he said, embarrassed, as he slowly climbed off you after jumping into your lap.

°Just because Simon was quite jumpy and excited, it didn't mean that he didn't have quiet moments. In fact, especially in the evening when the sun had not yet set, he was often calmer, enjoying a warm cocoa with you, sitting on his bed, he rummaged for his black nail polish, ,,I'll make you even more beautiful, trust me, it'll look great,” he said encouragingly and wiped a strand behind his ear before turning up the small cap and gently taking her hand. The determined look in his blue eyes, the way he pushed his hair back and the broad smile when he was finished were worth it all by themselves.

°But as loud as he could be, he was also embarrassed when you kissed him, whether it was a kiss on the cheek that made his cheeks turn pink or on the lips and he put his hand on your side, held you gently and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment, ,,I love you so fricking much,” he told you. Simon was completely relaxed about intimacy and appreciated every little touch, from holding hands to a gentle to intense kiss. As long as he was with you, felt you or even saw you smile, his heart melted immediately.

°Even in rather dark moments, when he had taken too much drugs mixed with alcohol, you stayed by his side when he threw up in the toilet, but always held your hand, casting a grateful glance at your pale face that you would not forget him like others and that you saw him as so much more than just the drug dealer or the school bully. But even in those painful moments, from your period to bad shitty days, he was by your side, either giving you space or closeness with snatches and cuddles, without which there was always something that calmed him down.

°Even small gestures like helping him with the witch make-up, a couple costume for Halloween or the easy braiding of his hair strands into which small colorful ribbons were laid were activities that showed him how close you were. This naturalness between you, the love that lay in the exchanged glances, the kisses that ended with a broad smile or just having the other with you was simply the most romantic thing you could have in Shadyside.

°His favorite nicknames for you are: Heart, Sweetie, Witch, Goddess

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii

[xyrill]

i ate an edible

so i made one piece admirals costco headcanons

have some doodles i made beforehand lolzies

bors

i feel like borsalino would obliberate a costco hot dog! they are literally $1.50 in the US! like wtf he would totally buy 5 or more, eat a few, and put some in the fridge.

he'd also buy a ton of snacks. maybe even $100 worth of dried nuts, fruits, and chips.... a junkie since i'd call him a stoner

he'd also buy ramen packs to stock; damn i feel like he would just eat ramen everyday-- restaurant ramen, home made ramen, and mf instant ramen

go to the optometrist section, try out sunglasses, but never buy them because he's attached to his yellow ass sunglasses

buy alcohol on sale

frequents costco with another admiral-- he goes by himself if he has to buy groceries

sak

sakazuki would totally fucking demolish a chicken bake. but honestly, like buy one to eat for lunch and buy a frozen pack from the freezer section of costco and reheat them for the next following lunches.

he would also sometimes buy the $5 rotisserie chicken. they have the best seasoning MMM

the karen of the admirals. complain to the manager if his rotisserie chicken is taking more than 15 MINUTES to cook

buys a pack of beer every week

he goes by himself and gets annoyed when someone asks to tag along

kuzan

kuzan? he would absolutely love to prepare dinners and buy bulk.

he'd eat up an entire potato salad.

buy fruit and fresh produce

even hit up the bakery

stock up on gift cards like a smart man

he stocks up on vitamins, probably even buys fish oil pills

fujitora

frequents the clothes section

he would dress up like a dad/uncle, buying the best flip flops/sandals

he'd always buy the 24 pack eggs or more

the very opposite of sakazuki, he'd be the most patient person with busy employees

self checkout but with the help of an employee

try out the occasional massage chairs

buy packs of melatonin gummies :)

aramaki

this fucker doesn't even have a costco card

he would sneak in with another admiral or pair up with some random person with a card to get in

he buys all the toys and cool looking comic books at the book section

he would only try samples and buy snacks

he gets a cart, not just to put his stuff in, but to have the right of way and be fast.

sengoku

would buy gift cards to restaurants -- he would definitely love olive garden

always asks an employee where stuff is

a bit impatient, especially if he's behind a slow person walking

looks at all the books

goes to the produce section just to find food for his goat :)

he buys ugly/cute stuffed animals

he'd be a fucking squishmallow collector omg...

garp

buys sweaters and clothes for koby from the clothes section

fuck, he probably loves koby more than asl >_> (probably not true)

would go to the headphones section and listen to the random songs that it plays

ACTUALLY, he would bring koby around in costco and be an absolute dad, embarrassing him with whatever chance he gets

frequents coscto with sengoku

he would go to costco with sengoku if he loses his costco card-- which is almost all the time maybe

edit: there are so many grammar mistakes oh my god HAHAHA

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

UR 【Solemn Guide】 Kira Sumeragi - Translation

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

Chapter 1:

[Halloween party venue]

Kira: (The food is starting to run out. Perhaps it’s time to bring out what we were planning to serve later.)

Kira: (Hm? Eiji, what are you…?)

Masato: Sumeragi-san, if you’re going to bring out the drinks, I’ll help.

Kira: I’m sorry... Hijirikawa-san. Could you... wait a little?

Kira: Right now... Eiji is about to... try to surprise Camus-san.

Kira: Eiji said that he wanted more opportunities to talk to him. 

Kira: So, this party… is a perfect chance.

Kira: All I can do is watch over him, but… I want to support him.

***

A few minutes later…

Kira: I’m sorry... for causing trouble. It seems Eiji’s attempt failed, but... he seems to be having fun.

Masato: I’m the one who should apologize for calling out to you at an inopportune time. … You’re really considerate of your friends, aren’t you, Sumeragi-san?

Kira: I won’t deny that... But at the same time... I think that applies to all of us.

Kira: Hijirikawa-san took the lead in preparing the food. You also put a lot of thought… into making sure everyone could enjoy it.

Kira: Everyone else was also being considerate... Not just for their group members... but for everyone here.

Kira: Thanks to that... we’re having a wonderful time. I’m truly... grateful for that.

Masato: It’s only natural. Even though we’re from different groups, right now, we’re all companions wishing for the success of this Halloween event.

Kira: ... You’re right. As companions, it’s only natural.

Chapter 2:

[HE★VENS Dormitory living room]

Kira: (I’m glad today is a day off. I need to quickly look up how to make it.)

Eiji: Huh? Aren’t those... the pumpkins you got from the quiz show the other day? They’re commonly used for Halloween, right?

Eiji: I thought they weren’t the edible kind… What are you planning to do with them?

Kira: I thought… I’d try making a lantern. I still need to… look up how to make it.

Eiji: Wow, that sounds fun! I’m off too, so can I help?

Kira: Yes… of course. Let’s make it together.

***

Kira: … It’s done. It looks… pretty close to what it’s supposed to be.

Eiji: Yeah! Since it was softer than a regular pumpkin, it was easier to carve than I thought.

Kira: Indeed. In a way… it’s like pottery, shaping something… I enjoyed it.

Eiji: You’re really dexterous, Kira. I couldn’t help but watch your skillful handling of the knife, it was impressive.

Eiji: But, you know... I’ve been thinking since earlier, but… doesn’t this lantern kind of look like nii-san?

Kira: Now that you mention it… it does. And if you put this one next to it… it looks like you.

Kira: Since we've gone this far... why don’t we make one for everyone? If we have seven lined up in the living room... it’ll feel lively.

Eiji: Great idea! That’s a brilliant plan! It’s still early… should we go buy more pumpkins?

Kira: Yes. Thanks for helping… Let’s go buy them right away.

Chapter 3:

[Halloween live venue]

Guide: Don’t make such a face... There’s no need to worry. I told you, things like farewells don’t exist for us.

Guide: That door should just be sealed shut. That way, you can belong to me forever.

Guide: Besides, do you think I would ever allow you to leave now? There’s no way I could let go of someone as precious as you.

Guide: … Look only at me, love only me. Yes, this is the place where you truly belong.

Guide: Understand... that you already belong to me and no one else.

Kira: (Our performance is going great. Maybe it’s because we’ve grown closer than before.)

Kira: (It feels different from a group’s solo live show... It’s a unique atmosphere, one that only Jinguji-san and Kotobuki-san can create together.)

Kira: Angel... I wonder if you’re enjoying spending Halloween with us?

(the fans cheer)

Ren: I’m glad. It was worth having the stage set up to look like the mansion from the image video.

Kira: Yeah. That mansion lies on the boundary between the two worlds... It’s also the place where we, the guides, live.

Reiji: So that means the six of us live together! Sounds lively, doesn’t it?

Kira: The time we spend together as six... is very meaningful. However... the happiness I feel right now is thanks to you, Angel.

Kira: I find myself wishing… I didn’t have to let you go. Now, I understand… how the Guides felt.

Kira: I hope... that you, too, will feel… the bittersweet allure of their temptation.

Kira: I won’t let you go back... I’ll make you say… you don’t want to leave.

[possibilistfanfiction]

nightmare for the one word prompts

[a little sad but mostly very silly, butch bea universe]

//

'i really don't have to go today,' beatrice says, kissing your forehead before settling down next to you on the couch. you know she means it: beatrice means everything she says, first of all, and you have grown — despite your brain's best efforts to steer you otherwise — to trust her when she offers care. you take her in: her fresh haircut that she gets done every month now, usually neatly parted on the top, messy from sleep; her tender wrists; the soft skin of her thighs; the soft sweater you bought her last christmas, sleeves pulled down over her hands, which are always cold.

you sigh. you had had nightmares — more than one, which is rare this many years later, after the worst of it — and woken up with scars that you don't think about too often, or at least with too much pain or sorrow anymore, aching all over your body. your legs had been pins and needles — worse, you've discovered, than feeling nothing some days — and your spine had ached, the halo feeling your sorrow, sharing in it. beatrice had skipped her typical surf session this morning, partially because she'd woken up with you both times last night, and partially because she's worried. she doesn't try to hide it anymore, her concern written all over her gentle face, in her sweet eyes, her soft hands. you find it nestled along all the small things she did for you in the past two hours: bringing you pain meds along with an easy breakfast of scrambled eggs and your favorite rosemary sourdough toast, doing a few snuffles with korra's morning unkibble so she's calm and ready to work today for whatever you need, helping you, after your glum nod, transfer from bed to your chair. you twist the wedding band around on your finger, focus on the few freckles that sit on the tops of her hands because of her time in the sun. your life is real, you remind yourself. your time on the other side, every endless day you spent in hell, was worth it for this, for beatrice quietly and patiently sitting next to you, soft and always becoming more herself; for your family visiting at the end of the week, camila begging to go to universal studios, lilith grumbling but giving in; for the respect people owe you now, and ready give; for your dog and your bar and the edibles you share with beatrice some nights, easy with laughter, and the farofa you feel confident in making for dinner when your friends come over, a warm offering.

'no,' you decide on, firmly, and you know beatrice will trust you. 'we should go. it'll be fun.'

'it will be fun,' she says, the same gleam in her eye you remember from years ago when she was ready to "maim or kill" (lilith's words) anyone who was in the way of her and the mission, especially once you became involved.

'you remember this is, like, your weekly tennis match for fun, right?'

'of course, ava.'

the way she cracks her knuckles tells you that the for fun is lost on her for the most part. it's endlessly amusing to you, though, and quite harmless — although maybe not to her opponent's pride — so you don't bother to argue any further. 'okay, well, i think angela and ruth wanted to have lunch anyway today after their jazzercise class, so we can watch you play.'

'no catcalling.'

you pout. 'you're my wife.'

'not from you, not from ruth or angela.'

'they're old, bea. let them have some fun.'

'at my expense? no thank you. i need to focus while i compete.'

she's already sitting up straighter, eyes lively. she's playing david today, you think, if you remember the club's "adult intermediate to advanced tennis league" rotation correctly. he's a decent player, and their head to head record is relatively even. he's also a bit of an asshole, and a venture capitalist, so it stands to reason beatrice despises him.

'fine.' you squeeze her hand. 'but can you change your shirt between sets?'

'ava.'

'gratuitously towel off or something at least.'

'ava.'

'whatever,' you say. 'i'm wearing a bikini. at least ruth and angela will appreciate it.'

'oh, i'll appreciate it,' she says, and then laughs softly and leans over to kiss you.

/

everything about beatrice, you decided years ago, is endearing. can she kill a man in, like, one second using just her hand? yes, sure, but you've seen her very skillfully practice her forms every morning for years, barring injury, and frown when anything is off, even by a breath. most people find her precision in all things kind of terrifying, but you've learned that some of it is a trauma response — from her childhood, from being a soldier, from losing you — and some of it is really just how she is. her books sorted exactly how she wants them — by genre, subgenre, and then author's last name — on the bookshelf; the meticulously labeled spices in your pantry, always in both their language of origin and english; her surfboards waxed perfectly and neatly stored in the small shed in your yard. everything about her precision is endearing because you understand her and you love her, and maybe the most endearing, or at least you think some days, is the way she treats rec league club tennis.

no matter how many times you've jokingly reminded her that your club isn't wimbeldon, she likes to wear all white little outfits; men's shorts and, your favorite, a neat polo. in the summer, she favors tanks, which you are not complaining about. she has three racquets and a very impressive bag like all the pros carry onto the court, special towels, pristine sneakers, and, when you're most amused, a wristband she very sincerely wipes her sweaty forehead on. since you'd met she'd loved watching tennis, and she'd taught you — as patiently as she has always taught you anything — the rules, her favorite players (not that it was, like, hard to think serena williams was the best athlete ever), common terms to know. you'd gone out with her a few times to the courts and she'd shown you proper form; you'd found out, eventually from her, that her dream as a little kid was to be a tennis pro, which was so charming and a little unexpected. you had thought she would've wanted to be some kind of scientist, maybe a really good lawyer, but her brother had dug out some pictures of little beatrice in her tennis getup, her expression so, so serious for a nine year old, and you'd fallen in love all over again.

she listens to her "pump-up music" — a lot of pop, surprisingly — as she drives you both to the club, focused already in her tennis outfit, complete with a quarterzip warmup top and everything. you're endlessly amused by her, in a way that most people are too intimidated to be, and you think it's good for her, to feel human, to not be taken so seriously when she should get to just enjoy things. your pain meds are helping by the time you get to the club, the pins and needles down your legs leveling out, the halo shaking off some of its deep sorrow, the memories of torture and abject aloneness that sometimes show up in your dreams. today is bright and sunny, the bluest sky, and your friends wave to you once you get out to the tables near the tennis courts. beatrice says a quick hello and then bustles off to start her very precise warm up routine, and you all wait until she's out of earshot to share a fond laugh.

'david today?'

'i swear she was rewatching coco and iga's last match yesterday to prepare.'

ruth pats your hand and angela orders a charcuterie for the table, gets prosecco for ruth and herself and — they both know you well enough by now that your chair usually means you've had to take medication, which you don't mix with alcohol — a cranberry soda for you, your favorite.

david shows up a few minutes later as you're gossiping, angela gasping at ruth's latest escapades with her new boyfriend while you laugh delightedly. he's the kind of muscular dude that likes to run along the beach shirtless because he thinks it's impressive but really it just looks ridiculous, the kind of dude that would give unwanted pointers in the gym. you don't have a disdain for him like beatrice does, because he's never done anything abhorrent to you personally, but when you see her steely gaze as he goes to his bench on the court, you get it. and, also, it's hot, so, like, you shoot a quick thanks to david and his douchey backwards cap for that.

/

things go just about as you'd expected: beatrice plays with the amount of passion you'd see in a wimbeldon final, and angela and ruth relentlessly whistle and cheer and boo. the charcuterie has a new truffle havarti you're all in love with, and the bottle of prosecco gets split happily while you watch. it's a fairly even match — david hits harder than beatrice but is slower and definitely stupider — and she wins the first set 6 games to 4. she gets mad at him for serving too slowly, and they briefly have an argument over whether or not one of his backhands was in. it's all deeply ridiculous for an afternoon at in an amateur club league, but beatrice and her overhand serves get you every single time.

she's down a break in the second set when she hits a drop shot that has david falling over his own feet, and you know it's over then. the second bea realizes someone is truly out of sorts, in any scenario, she's already won.

they shake hands after the match is over, beatrice taking the second set much quicker than the first, and then she makes her way over to your table and sits, very satisfied, in the chair next to you, a towel around her neck.

'my champion,' you say, and she rolls her eyes, accepting the congratulatory beer angela had already ordered for her as the last game was winding down with a thankful nod.

'great match, beatrice,' ruth says, half-sincere, half-teasing, but beatrice smiles anyway. sometimes, things are not good; sometimes, on the worst days, even now, even still, even with all this love, you still remember what it was like to suffer alone — without feeling, with too much feeling — for so much of your life. but beatrice slips into her quarterzip next to you and you smell sweat and laundry detergent and the pomade she puts in her hair, you feel the sun warming along your back and you hear the small group of children starting their lesson, laughing brightly. beatrice holds your hand and you'll nap later; you'll order takeout from your favorite thai place and watch the sunset on your patio; you'll fall asleep in her arms. you'll wake up and do it all over again — the loneliness, the pain, the longing — just for this.

[counselor-the-mentat]

The right way to care (1).

Summary: a little brother takes care of a depressed big sibling.

Word count: ~600.

Lazy Saturday. No will to get out of the bed. Maybe the head was filled with some plans a long ago but not right now. Everything except staring at the ceiling seems exhausting. Being alive by now seems a miracle. But is it actually? Doesn't matter, airheads can't think.

"Hey, sib. Ya 'kay?" the little brother asks, leaning on the doorframe. He's pretty long for his 16 and it's hard to say that he's younger one. He received no response but didn't left. Instead, he sighed heavily and got closer to the bed. Mattress bend under his weight, his arms wrapped around tired body. His hot steady breath tickled the nape of the neck. "Hey, wanna eat? I can fry ya some potatoes. With nice sauce," his long thin fingers brushed against sibling's cheek. "No? Don't be picky. Ya needa eat or ya will turn into a.. hmmm.. a raisin. A little, shrinked raisin, ya hear me?"

No response, tho.

He sighs once more. "I wish ya felt better now, I swear... I wanna my sib back. My dear elder sib who enjoys my barely edible cooking. By the way, I got better at it, so.. maybe ya will give some potatoes a try?.." No response again. It's like talking to a dead. "M'kay, big grumpy. But keep in mind that I won't let you to starve to the death, hear me? I'll force-feed ya if I have to."

He snuggles closer, brushing his nose against sibling's cheek. "When ya used a bathroom last time? Ya know ya needa go pee-pee time to time, right?" His words are met with a sour groan. He understood everything by this simple reaction. "Woah, woah, yeah, c'mon. Ya needa this for sure."

Unhappy groans and whines never saved anyone from being dragged by limbs down the bed. "C'mon, cooperate!" he says, grunting. Once he finally managed to drag the dead-inside body to the bathroom another problem raised — when you pee your bottoms should be down. And the only person that wanted sibling's shorts and underwear down is their little brother who's hands were tagging those down already. "Ouch! Don't slap, I'm helping! I'm helping, ya airhead! C'mon, just your underwear down, I'm not even looking. Do you see me looking? Me neither."

It takes some time to relax in such tense position. But eventually the peeing is done and underwear is on again. "So, was it worth struggling? Huh?" the brother sounds stern but softens just in a moment. "M'kay, let's go back to yer cave, sib."

It's much more lovely in "a cave" than anywhere else. In the soft bed. But nausea from endless laying starts to go up to the throat.. But it's secondary.

"If you stay the same undead by the evening I'll be forced to give you a bath," the brother reminds casually. Well.. maybe there is some problems with lack of movements. Just slightly. Maybe it worth to get up once and wash without any help. The brother was persistent last time, no way something may change his mind.

"Ya make me feel lazy.. I don't wanna leave ya, I gotta make sure ya okay." His hand makes slow circles on sibling's tummy. It's almost magical how everything about him screams that he's the elder one here. Just somehow. "Ya won't kick me out, right? Yeah, of course. Ya have no energy for that. That's why ya trapped with me, sib," he chuckles softly. "Wanna share some sweet dreams?.. Yeah, let's just.. get more comfy here."

He softly takes the tired body in his arms, his embrace is like a safe pillow fort. Nothing can get through this. "Sleep well, sib. You need some good rest," he whispered gently.

[lepainnperdu]

first kiss - a poem

I had my first ever kiss

it was something i looked forward to ever since 

i was a child and in that moment

i knew from pretty early on,

he only wanted to fuck

when i told him i wasn't about that,

he said it was ok, that what I want is what he wants

we talked about anything and everything, 

gmm :)

and we would text all day

we talked about anything and everything

he's learning how to sew, he'd hem my pants for me if i ever needed it

he'll show me some fleas in LA, i've never been

we talked about anything and everything

he liked my art and said it was amazing

we talked about anything and everything

like how he wanted to rip that polo right off of me

i said no to sending pics of my boobs

"worth a try"

we talked about anything and everything

like how i was going to beat him in mariokart in my dorm on Friday. 

we talked about anything and everything

like how he said it seemed like he always knew me. 

Friday, he picks me up, we wore the same thing, red sweater, dark jeans, isnt that funny

he was exactly my type, even better in person

we get froyo

we dont stay there, we immediately go back to my dorm, weird

i knew we were going to smoke,

ive done pens, edibles

this was the real deal, grinder and lighter and all

he helped me learn how to do it

he rubbed my back and gave me water when i choked on the ash

i beat him in mariokart, yay

we watch a movie on my  bed. 

by the way, he, in his words, was, "definitely not" a virgin. I definitely was

he asks if i ever kissed anyone. I say no. 

he tries to kiss me, i hesitate. 

he holds my han and rubs it with his thumb, he caresses my thigh, i lean my head on his shoulder

he asks if i wanna lie down, because i keep saying how tired i am. i agree

we lie down, he's comfortable. He plays with my hair and i play with his. 

we kiss. we makeout. tongue in my mouth. 

i tear up "i cant tell if you're about to cry" i couldnt be happier

although i could feel his erection in his kiss, i knew there was no love, but i couldn't deny how much i loved kissing him

he gets on top of me, we kiss more

the way he lifts m, i wrap my legs around his waist

this isnt how i wanted my first kiss to happen at all

but this was the first time in my life that I truly felt pretty and I wanted to feel pretty 

he moves his hand to my breast. I stop him. he stops. 

he gets up to leave, he sounds urgent on having to leave. he realized he was wasting his time. 

this whole night i kept apologizing that i wasnt giving him what he wanted, but i guess he was adamant in accomplishing his goal

im sorry for being annoying, that was the only thing i could say all night. 

i was nervous. i felt like this wasnt real, that it wasnt supposed to happen to me, that this stuff would never happen

i was too much of a child, i was funny, a good friend

but here i was all that and cute, but i only knew how to be a child

can you stay a little longer? we kissed again

im sorry that i was being annoying. but he was pissed "stop saying that"

promise me we'll hang out again after i come back from break?

"i dont make promises"

and he left.

heyy, i wish tonight didnt play out the way it did, i was just super nervous, and I really appreciate your company, 

all this all that and that but

i was blocked. the second he left my dorm, block my number, block my social media

throw out the endless conversations we had

what about the fleas in LA? what about our shared love for music?

was it necessary to fake a whole connection just to fuck, especially when you knew you wouldnt get that from me

from the start

it was a waste of time on your part because you spent all those days texting me

did you even care in those moments? what about skiing? fashion? my genuine interest and learning who you are?

i come home for break and my mom immediately asks if ive kissed any boys.

i cant tell her that this is how my first kiss went. not like this

"no, not yet, haha"

i missed my bed for its comfort to cry as many times as i could possibly want in it

maybe i'll finally buy a thong becasue now i feel i actually have the worth and means to buy one

at least i now know how to distinct my childhood to adulthood

i acted childish because it was all how i knew how to act, things were never serious

things are never serious when you're always funny, all deep moments ended in jokes

all the sudden i kinda understand how the earth rotates

he was confident, and i learned a lot from his confidence, theres always something to take

from a bad situation

[pukanavis]

Plum Blossoms and Snowflakes | Prologue 1

Mayoi: Aah, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.

I’m sorry for being alive, Chief—

Gyah!?

Urgh, I slipped on the snow and fell to the ground.

(Sigh…I don’t have the will in me to move right now.)

(I’m sorry, Chief. I didn’t consider how you’d feel and wound up making the wrong choice.)

(You should detest the person I am now. I’m nothing but a worm that isn’t worth keeping alive…!)

(Aah, it’s so cold. If I fall unconscious, engulfed by this snow, would my disgusting self be purified in the slightest?)

(Aaahhhh…)

???: —Uhm, are you alright?

Mayoi: Huh? The sound of a sweet voice? I must be hallucinating.

Fufufu…maybe an angel has come to take me away.

???: An angel? No, I’m—

Time: FlashbackーAfter school, a few days earlier Location: Yumenosaki Academy's garden terrace

Hajime: ♪～♪～♪

Ritsu: Looks like someone’s in a good mood.

Hajime: Ehehe, we’re doing a tea club activity for the first time in a while, so I can't help myself. I even ended up baking cookies in my excitement ♪

Ritsu: You really made this ordinary day feel luxurious. Can I have a cookie?

Hajime: Of course, have as many as you like~♪

An ordinary day, you say? That reminds me of the time last year that we role-played Alice in Wonderland here.

Ritsu: Oh, yeah. Ecchan asked us to play along and do some improv acting with him.

I played the Cheshire Cat but really, I’m more suited to be the Dormouse.

Oh, to do nothing but eat and sleep. Zzz, zzz…♪

Hajime: Fufu. I think I’m more like the March Hare.

We may not have a Hatter, but let’s enjoy this Mad Tea Party of ours.

Arashi: …Oh my? If it isn’t Ritsu-chan and Hajime-chan. Are you two doing club activities?

Ritsu: Nacchan, Mayomayo. What’re you doing here?

Arashi: We’re just out on a walk. We’ve been wandering around, making idle chatter and enjoying the day.

We won’t be able to do things like this once we graduate so we’ll have to make lots of memories to avoid leaving with any regrets. Right, Mayoi-chan ♪ 

Mayoi: Y-Yes. Though, I’m not very competent at communicating, so I end up as the listener much of the time…

However, Narukami-san keeps it at a pace I can follow so I’m able to enjoy myself too.

Ristu: Hmm, so you’re making memories, huh…?

Why don’t you join us then?

Mayoi: Join…you? In your tea party?

Ristu: Yeah. We’ve been enjoying an ordinary day of our own too. You’re fine with it, aren’t you, Haa~kun?

Hajime: You’re more than welcome to join us. Ehehe, this is feeling a lot more like Alice in Wonderland now.

Please have a seat. Alice, White Rabbit, I’ll have a cup ready for you in just a moment ♪

Arashi: Oh, it’s wonderful to be compared to Alice ♪

You don’t mind if I be Alice, do you, Mayoi-chan?

She’s simply adorable, and her name gives off a similar feeling to 'Arashi' ♪  I’ve always wanted to try being her at least once.

Mayoi: Of course, go ahead. Although…

It would be terribly arrogant for somebody the likes of me to be the White Rabbit. I’m more deserving of the role of the Caterpillar.

I’ll go and feed on the grass over there like a bug should.

Hajime: Grass? Ayase-senpai, you eat grass too?

Mayoi: “Too”...? Shino-san, you’ve eaten grass before?

Hajime: Yes, I come from a poor family, so it was a common source of food when I was a child.

Mayoi: O-Oh, I see. I apologise, it seems I made you touch on a difficult subject…

Hajime: Oh, there’s no need to apologise~. I’m the one that brought it up.

Besides, they’re memories that I look back fondly on.

It was exciting gathering wild plants with my family—like we were going on a treasure hunt. I also found interest in learning which plants were and weren’t edible.

But rather than grass, I have cookies for us to enjoy today.

I baked a large batch, so please help yourself ♪

Mayoi: Thank you. You’re very kind, Shino-san.

Ritsu: Look at you seducing your seniors again. Haa~kun, you really are a naughty boy, aren’t you? 

Hajime: I’m not trying to seduce anyone? Gosh…

Narukami-senpai, thank you for your patience. Here’s a cup of ‘Nacchan Tea’ for you.

Arashi: Thank you, Hajime-chan.

Mayoi: What is ‘Nacchan Tea’ ?

Hajime: It’s a herbal tea blended to Narukami-senpai’s tastes. Its floral flavour and the refreshing hit of mint are its stand-out qualities.

Would you like to try it, Ayase-senpai? Or would you rather a regular cup of tea?

Mayoi: No, I’d like to try ‘Nacchan Tea’...

Arashi: Nice going, Mayoi-chan.

Let’s take advantage of the beautification properties in ‘Nacchan Tea’ and become gorgeous together ♪

Next

[acequinz]

Ohhhhh Zhao Yunlan convincing Shen Wei to teach him how to cook.

It was just an excuse to be in the kitchen with shen wei and get handsy, maybe a little bit of- shen wei holding him from behind as he helped Zhao Yunlan cut the veggies.

But after two hours of crying over the onions, almost chopping his hand off, very narrowly escaping getting burns on his arms and hearing Shen Wei worried or upset little tch-es as Zhao Yunlan narrowly escapes getting injured, he just wanted to throw himself out of the window because this was the dumbest idea ever.

Shen wei was still nice and kind when he taught him how to handle things but also very focussed on teaching and worrying over Yunlan and while it was cute at start, after a while it just became stressful for both of them.

Cooking was not easy with Shen Wei even though angry Shen Wei was such a hottie, he couldn't even enjoy the back hug cutting vegetable moment because he was too busy crying over the damned onions.

But now that they were seated to eat whatever monstrosity had resulted from Zhao Yunlan's hand, his eyes were trained on Shen wei who hummed curiously as if he hadn't been the one to help Yunlan through most of it and been the one serve it properly.

In hindsight that is probably the only reason it does not look too bad, looks good even but Yunlan doesn't trust it. Until Shen Wei takes a slow bite out of it and Yunlan wonders if he's as worried about the taste as Yunlan is- which considering the past endeavours is not something Zhao Yunlan will take offense to.

Shen Wei chews and looks back at Yunlan, his eyes didn't display any pain so maybe it was edible?

It was only when Shen Wei smiles, his eyes crinkling as he nods happily at Yunlan that the other relaxes. He hadn't even noticed how stiffly he had been sitting.

"This is really good Yunlan!" Shen Wei reiterated, taking another bite prompting Zhao Yunlan to try it too and would you look at that, it's not bad at all.

Of course it was still nowhere close to Shen Wei's level of tasty but this was the first time he had managed to make something that did not make him gag.

Shen Wei chuckled to himself as he saw the pure happiness come on Yunlan's face as he shovelled more of the food into his mouth. He raised his hand and patted Yunlan's head grabbing his attention.

"The two hours of pain were worth it, right?" Shen Wei asked, his heart lighter than ever.

"Only because you were with me Xiao Wei, from now on you always have to be with me while cooking." Zhao Yunlan boldly stated, kissing Shen Wei's hand that was cupping his face, he wanted to kiss his lips but he didn't want to stop eating.

His first good enough meal.

Shen Wei smiled, his heart fluttering even faster than before, "of course."

Maybe he can give Yunlan another special treat tonight for working so hard.

[moonfurthetemmie]

Untitled.MP4

Previous | Next | First (with warnings)

Part 17

oh we're writing normally now for a bit?? okay

1.1

Zuli listened attentively as Mercury listed off things they needed. Various chemicals and where they could usually be found, for his next attempt at a cure. Any still-sanitary soap he could scrounge up, if possible. And food.

I might need to scavenge farther than usual for edible mushrooms, Zuli thought idly, his gaze being drawn to Mercury’s arm, where he was mindless scratching. He’d been doing that off and on for the past few minutes. He must’ve gotten into something.

…A horrible thought slowly formed in Zuli’s mind.

“....Mercury.”

Mercury stopped and looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“What’s on your arm?”

Mercury blinked. A look of fear slowly dawned on his face, and he pulled up his sleeve.

There was a white patch on his forearm, like a rash. The contrast with Mercury’s dark skin was startling.

Zuli expected panic. From himself, from Mercury. But Mercury’s horrified expression only changed to grief, while Zuli’s dread turned to a grim certainty.

“...That’s it, then?” Mercury said quietly, staring at the white patch. “It’s over? All of this…everything…hours and hours of trying to find a cure, to survive…”

“...If you’re infected, I probably am too,” Zuli said.

Mercury just squeezed his eyes shut. “I…I don’t think I’m anywhere near close enough to- to-”

His voice cracked. Zuli took a deep breath. Memories from a time that seemed to be decades ago came to him.

“If we’re already doomed, we might as well go out in style.”

Mercury looked up in surprise. “Wh-”

“A bang, if you will.” For the first time in what felt like ages, Zuli smiled. It was a wry, sarcastic smile. But it was a smile.

Mercury’s eyes widened. He pulled his sleeve down and looked at all of the chemicals on the table.

“...Do we even have stuff to make a bomb? Are you sure that’d even work?”

Zuli stood, and came over to the table. His mind felt like it was racing. They didn’t have much time, he knew. They might have to throw some safety measures out. But if they could save even a little time…

“Some of the failed cures still slowed the disease, right?” he asked. “And they weren’t all fatal?”

“I…yes?”

“Take them. I’ll take one too. We’re going to need some extra time, but we have enough stuff to make a few bombs, and a good number of firebombs.”

Mercury’s eyes got that old glint back to them that they got whenever he was trying to make a plan. “Fire…And the Colony wants to absorb the manor once we’re all infected. We’ll have to delay them until it closes in, but if even a little bit of it catches fire…”

Zuli began gathering things from around the office. Anything that could burn, or start a fire, or explode; things for casings, too. Anything that looked like it could be useful.

“Do you know how to make a bomb?”

“No. Do you?”

Zuli set a pile of things on the desk. “I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t. Otherwise, we’d be much more likely to just kill ourselves and destroy the office than anything else.”

Mercury narrowed his eyes at him. “Why do you know how to make a bomb?”

Zuli bit his lip. “...You’re not going to believe me.”

“Try me.”

“I was training to be part of a…a sort of elite military force in my AU.”

Mercury raised an eyebrow. “Unless you were training to be a munitions officer, I don’t think I do believe you.”

“In all honesty, I hadn’t even gotten in yet. I was mostly training myself. The intention was more to learn how to defuse a bomb, but I thought learning how they were made might help with that.”

Mercury stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. It had a note of despair in it, but he laughed like he’d just heard the funniest thing in the world. 

“You should’ve gotten Jasper to bring you stuff to blow a hole out of the dungeon ages ago.”

“Maybe. I thought someone would figure out what I was up to and tell Obsidian, though.”

“Would’ve been worth a try.”

“And risk getting killed? Or worse, brought upstairs being made part of the team?”

Mercury laughed again. Zuli couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. At least they could laugh at something before their impending doom.

[emotionaldepravity]

hi! i noticed you were a fellow griss enjoyer, so i was wondering if you could write some x reader headcanons about him? maybe griss trying to do something nice for the reader, like making them dinner (and failing terribly)? you can make it romantic or platonic, i don't mind! thanks in advance <3

Sure sure! The intent is romantic for sure.

-Griss really can do about three things well: inflict pain, give tattoos, and well... fuck.

-Other than that he really isn't great at much else. However, he loves you enough to try to be a bit sweeter. Your relationship with him isn't just transactional, and he wants to show you how much he appreciates you.

-At first he thinks about giving you some sort of gift, but he feels like a trinket would be a waste. Then he remembers how you mentioned you haven't had your favorite food in a long time. Surely cooking isn't that hard... right?

-He finds out pretty quickly that he can't just scorch ingredients with fire magic and expect it to be done. So he tries to get Marni or Zephia to help him out. Zephia basically just gives him the recipe, and Marni just refuses to be a part of it. Griss refused to let her have any if she helped.

-It takes him hours to make a plate of food that even looks edible. He is wet with sweat and extremely frustrated. However, he hopes and prays that this will be what you wanted.

-When he presents it to you, he doesn't hype it up.

"Hey, [Y/N], try this."

-Of course once you try it, and its terrible, he actually is charmed by your expression of horror, disgust, and confusion.

"You know that's supposed to be [your favorite food]. I worked rather hard on it. Honestly for a face like that, all those hours seem worth it."

-Spoonful after spoonful he makes you eat it, just laughing at how much you hate it. Once the plate of food is gone, he makes a plate for himself to suffer though and trashes any leftovers. He lets you feed it to him, a grin on his face, knowing that both of you will probably be vomiting all night.

-At the very least, he swears to you that he'll never cook again.

[madnesshere]

Raiden Shogun, The Cooking Saga

btw I wrote this with my friend but almost all of it was me

-DAY 1

Xiangling: GREETINGS!!!

Xiangling: WE have gathered here today to try and accomplish an impossible task...

Xiangling: Educate one Raiden Shogun how to make food!

Xiangling: Any food! Preferably something easy that doesn't involve fire

Venti: So like, half the options then

Raiden Shogun: You all need not to worry, Yae has been giving me pointers recently

Furina: You realize that doesn't make it better right?

Furina: What do you at least have an idea of how to cook?

Raiden: ...

Zhongli: How about Osmanthus-

Venti: NO

Xiangling: Alright lets start with... Onigiri! That's simple enough!

Venti: Morax I bet you 10,000 mora that this building will be on fire by the end of this

Zhongli: I shall not participate

(Xiangling brings out the ingredients)

Xiangling: First we need to cook the rice! Ei, would you like to do the honors?

(Pulls out rice cooker)

Raiden: What is that contraption? It looks like technology from Snezhnaya or Fontaine

Xiangling: Naw, its from 2024 but tomato tomato, ANYWAY Raiden would you please?

(Raiden grabs rice and puts it in the rice cooker, then pulls out a firework and match)

Venti: EI WTH?!

Raiden: What? I'm supposed to heat up the rice, am I not? And Miss Naganohara made these fireworks herself so the quality is guaranteed I can assure you

(Xiangling breathes heavily and sighs)

Xiangling: Raiden, there is a reason we have a RICE COOKER

Xiangling: you will not cook rice with those fireworks you will KILL US ALL

Raiden: oh..

(puts away the fireworks)

Xiangling: Alright back to cooking, now while the rice is cooking we have to start getting the filling ready

Xiangling: Venti, Zhongli, this seems like a task for you to help with imma go take a nap

Zhongli: Alright, the first step is to mix together the seagrass and fish

Raiden: Seems simple enough

(actually does a good job)

Venti: Now we add the spices!

(Raiden takes the bottle and shakes, but can't get any flakes out of it)

Raiden: It appears to be stuck...

(Raiden shakes harder, and the whole bottles worth of spice comes out)

(Zhongli and Venti don't see because they are looking for the other ingredients and wrongly assumed that this would be easy for her)

(Raiden mixes it all together)

Venti: Ayyy, how we doin'?

Zhongli: It looks a bit... oranger than in the cookbook but still looks edible

Xiangling: AND IM BACK!

Venti: Xiangling I think the second Cataclysm is upon us, Ei's doing a good job

Xiangling: Excellent! I assume your done with the filling, so now all we need to do is assemble!

(brings out the Nori)

Xiangling: Now for the hard part which is getting- EI WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!

(Raiden was trying to take the freshly cooked rice out of the cooker and put the Nori and filling into a bowl)

Raiden: Was I not supposed to put them together?

Xiangling: I said ASSEMBLE, not MIX

Venit: lol EI I think your deaf

(Raiden pulls out the Musuo no Hitotachi)

Raiden: Choose your last words carefully, Barbatos

Furina: Calm down guys, lets just get back to the teaching aspect of this show

Zhongli: Miss Furina, when did you get here?

Furina: The scriptwriter forgot about me for a bit, but I'm here now

Xiangling: Alright, I agree with Furina, Back to business! Though ig Ei ever turns this into a business then I'm calling the Sangonomiya Samurai and starting another rebellion

Xiangling: First we have to strain the rice of any moisture so it sticks better

(They strain the rice)

Xiangling: Now we need to take half a hand of rice and put filling in it

(Proceeds to put a copious amount of filling atop her rice)

Furina: That seems like a bit too much...

Zhongli: Maybe it helps with the flavor?

Xiangling: Yeah!! that's what I'm talking about! Go big or go home! Now we just need to put another half a hand of rice and stick it to encase the filling inside

Xiangling: And do it slowly and gently

(Raiden makes a bit of a sloppy but still mostly good looking onigiri)

Furina: That looks kinda good actually

Venti: low bar

Xiangling: Alright, last step! Which is putting the Nori on the onigiri!

Xiangling- What you want to do is carefully fold it till it sticks-

(This continues for several hours)

Raiden: ...

Zhongli: I think you need to be gentler

Raiden: Pure strength is all I need

Furina: I'm not sure that's a good answer

Raiden: It worked on Orobashi

Venti: And look how well that turned out for you

Venti: *COUGH tatarigami *COUGH

Raiden: Venti I will wring your neck like the chicken you are

Zhongli: Raiden you can kill him later, finish the task at hand

(finally completes it)

Raiden: At last... my creation is complete

Xianlging: Now for the taste testing, any volunteers?

Furina, Zhongli and Venti: ...

Xianlging: Fair enough, I guess I'll take one for the team-

Furina: WAIT! I have the perfect judge in mind! Monsieur Neuvillette!

Zhongli: Isnt the Iudex in Fontaine?

Furina: Worry not, for I shall summon him with the power of the

Furina: ORATRICE MECHANIQUE D'ANALYSE CARDINAL

Neuvillette: *Crashes through the roof like batman

Chef Mao: MY ROOF

Zhongli: I'll pay

Venti: Brokeass

Zhongli: I stand corrected

Neuvillette: Miss Furina what do you need?

Furina: We need someone to judge this dish

Neuvillette: Thats all? Alright then

(He takes a bite, then promptly collapses on the floor)

Venti: HOW? We didn't put anything weird in it!

(He takes a bit for himself)

Venti: HOLY MOTHER OF ISTAROTH AND EGERIA

Xiangling: Whats wrong?!

Venti: I SWEAR ITS LIKE MURATA LIT A WILDFIRE ON MY TONGUE!

Xiangling: RAIDEN WHAT DID YOU DO?!

Zhongli: ...How much spice did you put in?

Raiden: The whole bottle

Furina: IT SAID HALF A QUARTER!!

Zhongli: wait why did Neuvillette collapse?

Furina: His spice tolerance is that bad

Zhongli: ah

Venti: guzzling water like his life depends on it

Venti: Thats why it was so orange huh

Raiden: I suppose we should start anew

Xiangling: Respectfully, no

Zhongli: I uh, have consultant business to get to

Venti: I need booze

Furina: I need to get the Iudex to a hospital

(All of them practically run out of there except Furina who is staggering under the weight of Neuvillette)

Raiden: Then I suppose I shall head back to Inazuma

(She too, leaves the restaurant)

Xiangling: WAIT YOU GUYS NEED TO PAY FOR THE ROOF!

-THE END

[aspd-culture]

I’m not sure if I experience the ASPD boredom? I meet the criteria and have a handful of other symptoms, I’m just not sure about this one.

I have a neutral/apathetic/empty mood most of the time (besides rage and sometimes sadness) but sometimes I get into bored moods where it’s so heavy that I feel tired but also not tired.

I can also become very agitated and restless like as if my muscles are being pulled on and like I have pent up energy like I desperately need to do SOMETHING but when I try to stave off the boredom (I’m stuck at home most of the time and I’m in the middle of nowhere so this is the most I can do) either by playing a game, scrolling through social media, etc I usually quit right after because I can even become bored with that. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t.

TW for alcohol/weed mention here

If there’s alcohol in the house, I’ll drink it and if there’s weed I’ll smoke it or take an edible. If there isn’t either of those, I try eating or drinking something ‘fun’ or something that’s worth getting up and walking into the kitchen for.

Alcohol and weed consumption is about the most any ‘impulsive’ decisions can get in my environment as a product of boredom and needing to do something. I usually struggled to keep myself away from it because I’d get a physical itch to drink/smoke/take an edible as well. Maybe it’s because they bring a much more immediate affect and internal change than playing a video game would?

I also hate being left without something to pass the time but I feel like that’s normal for everybody.

This all sounds very familiar to how I've experienced the boredom in the past, yes. Like you mentioned, sometimes the most "impulsive" thing I can safely let myself do is have a drink, and that usually eases the itch enough that something non-impulsive can help.

Personally, social media isn't even an option when I'm dealing with that level of boredom. I will open and close the same apps over and over again (looking at nothing, just opening and closing) until I get so pent up and stressed from the boredom that I nearly throw my phone. As I've mentioned before though, my presentation of boredom in ASPD is pretty severe, so not everyone will have that intense of a reaction.

[sunny-ghost]

Baking [A short story for "The Oakwood Mansion"]

Doesn't contain any spoilers for the main story

Mizuki isn't the greatest at cooking, decent at best. What she makes is edible, at least, and receives fair amount of praise; but it’s nothing extraordinary.

Her baking, on the other hand, is much worse.

Thus, it’s a mystery why she’s decided to bake not only cookies, but cupcakes as well, unable to choose between them. Chocolates would’ve been much easier; she’s made them before. Just melt the chocolate, pour into moulds, and freeze.

But that’s too simple. Although, she’s not sure the end result will be worth making a mess of their kitchen. As long as she finishes and gets cleaned up in time for her grandmother to come home, everything will be fine.

Probably.

Three hours were already spent coming up with a gift, frantically googling recipes – then cycling to the nearest corner shop for a single packet of sugar they lacked, and doing the actual baking. Now, with both trays in the oven she forgot to preheat, she’s forced to confront the mess burning holes into her head from every direction.

Stacks of dishes on top of a broken dishwasher, flour and sugar over the countertop, her hands and clothes, and a bit of spilt cupcake batter. The clock hanging on the wall reads twelve pm, she has roughly two hours before her grandmother comes home. 

It'd been a nightmare trying to convince her to stay out longer with friends; she rarely goes out nowadays. Luckily, her friends agreed, insisting on karaoke and visiting a new art museum that’d opened up in the city. The city that’s half an hour drive away.

Right now, however, Mizuki’s wishing she’d let one of them in on the plan and requested some tips. If she’d sorted this out days ago, then she could’ve asked one of their neighbours to come over and help. 

Her grandmother wouldn’t have minded if she ever did find out, considering how tight-knit the neighbourhood is. Everyone has come over at some point since her grandparents first moved in.

Alas, she handwashes every bowl and utensil in the sink, scrubbing relentlessly. This is worth it, she reminds herself, although if the deserts happen to overcook, she’ll settle with store brought instead. 

Or so she tells herself, knowing full-well she’d just start all over again. It’s going to be worth it.

Only after she takes both trays out of the oven, does she realise she might’ve overdone it. While unsure how long cupcakes and cookies last before expiring, she does know that if she’d hand all of these to Siorus and Hikaru in a large bag or container, they’d never let her live it down.

Maybe Paige will enjoy some – ah, never mind, she doesn’t like cupcakes much, especially red velvet, or choc chip cookies (perhaps she’ll still eat them if Mizuki just removes the chips… okay, no). Alice might try some, albeit she’ll be a little confused by the offering.

With the clutter cleaned up, the countertops practically shining, there won’t be any harm in letting her grandmother know. She would’ve opposed to Mizuki baking in the kitchen alone, due to… previous incidents, but what done is done – so surely, she won’t deny tasting some of her prized goods.

Or, at the very least, let Mizuki share some with her friends when they all get back.

First thing’s first, she has to taste test them. Even though they appear perfect on the outside; the cupcakes are spongey, and the cookies balance on the fine line between undercooked and burnt, she hesitates to take a bite.

Bracing herself for the worst, she tries the cupcake first. The top layer has a solid, slightly crunchy texture, and the flavour has her immediately taking another bite – only for her to choke on it.

She finishes the rest without dying, and moves onto the chocolate chip cookie. It breaks off easily, and is a little too chewy for her liking, but maybe this is an odd one out. 

There’s no telling which are perfect or downright terrible, unfortunately, and she can’t try all of them. So she leaves it up to luck and her own intuition, and neatly packs an equal amount of both treats into a picnic basket, a white cloth laid underneath.

No time to waste, she carries it out the door, praying that Hikaru and Siorus are at the treehouse today. If not, well…

A sudden meow derails her train of thought. Fuku sits in front of her feet, blinking up at her. “Oh, good afternoon.”

Just as she’s about to hurry back inside to grab him a treat, he stands up and walks towards the forest. She hesitates, glancing behind her at her house, then smiles and trails after him.

Carefully stepping around fairy rings and skipping across small rivers, she delves deep into the forest. Venturing this far used to be impossible, goosebumps on her skin, shivers up her spine and voices in her head screaming, “Go back, it’s not safe” made every second a miracle.

Now, it’s quiet.

Fuku guides her through low hanging trees, straight into a branch that hits her every time she comes here. She cups her reddening face, groaning.

Her body senses it before her ears do, goosebumps prickle her skin. A sweet melody fills the air, softly played heart accompanied by piano luring her forward in a trance. She’s heard it on the radio before, “I say a little prayer”.

But instead of Aretha Franklin’s voice, Hikaru sings her heart out; dancing as well, the hem of her dress swaying with her movements. Siorus sits against the treehouse on a red and white picnic mat, radio blaring beside him. He waves to Mizuki.

Who smiles and leans against a tree, watching in awe. This isn’t the first time Hikaru’s broke out into song, always urging them to join in as well – and hopefully, it’s far from the last.

Then, from the corner of her eye, Hikaru spots her and stops singing, though the song continues. “Mizuki, hey!” 

It’s a slight disappointment, not being able to hear more. Siorus turns the radio down, she hopes they’ll bring the song back later. “Hey, I uh… baked you guys something.”

Smile becoming lopsided, she holds out the basket, and Hikaru excitedly ushers her over to the picnic mat. She asks Mizuki how she’s been, as if they didn’t see each other just yesterday. 

The radio buzzes in the background, singers drowned out by her and Siorus’ glee. 

“You made all these yourself?” Siorus asks, taking out a cupcake whereas Hikaru picks a cookie. “They look amazing, do you bake often?”

Awkwardly clearing her throat, Mizuki averts her gaze. “Oh, yeah, all the time. It’s a hobby of mine."

Hikaru’s eyes light up. “Really? Could you teach me sometime? I’d love to learn.”

Uh oh. Heart skipping a beat, Mizuki’s sheepish smile widens as she curls her fingers around grass stems. Both of them in the kitchen at once will create utter chaos, twice the amount of mess from this morning.

Even Siorus appears reluctant, nervously eyeing Mizuki as if to warn her. Alas, releasing her held breath, Mizuki sits up straight – forcing her smile to appear more confident, and says,

“Of course. Whenever you're free.”

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Title: Er, (Tales of Mere Living, #3)

Author: Seven Scribes

Rating: 4/5 stars

"Not all players of this game are merely innocents," the narrator tells us. "Some seek to become the ruler of their own empires. It is for these people that the Spirit of Er has come to dwell."

Written entirely in the second-person present tense and in an inane register of "chatty" or pseudo-phonetic English (think Seuss or Twain), Er feels to me like an attempt at a certain type of piece of internet fiction -- a sort of immersive literary roleplaying game (or "RLG" in internet parlance). The genre has never been my cup of tea, mostly because I prefer the indirection of fantasy to any but the most minimalist of rule systems, and also because I'm not generally interested in extended collaborative storytelling. So I'm not sure if there's even a genre here I could call this a kind of parody of.

The kind of story Er is, is roughly as follows. An anthropomorphic orce is left to live in a strange land, with no "turnkey" set of helpful "hints and cheats" to go off of (like a series of instruction books). He must use his wits and his creativity to navigate this strange world. And along the way, the rules of his world are slowly revealed to him, detail by detail, as they arise in his narration.

The orce must eat, and so he goes looking for food. He tries various edible "fruits," each with some unexpected twist that he must make use of. He takes a ride on a conveniently appearing bus, and discovers that the road is extremely perilous. He is directed to a house by an otherworldly woman named Cyn, and must figure out how to convince her to let him in. And so on. The tone, if not the content, is Munchkin-like: "hey, I'm stuck in this game, let me come up with the most ridiculous bullshit there is."

I think the idea is to channel these kinds of perverse rules into an enjoyable story. I can see the appeal of this: Er is fairly lighthearted and fun, I suppose, and there's no large investment or motivation required to keep reading. On the other hand, what distinguishes this sort of story from a traditional, non-rule-based fairytale is precisely that it is a game, that its world is predicated on certain arbitrary rules which we are aware of as players, and whose necessity only becomes apparent as the game progresses. Thus the real drama is meant to come from trying to understand and use the rules. The story as a whole is a series of attempts to combine the rules into some sort of "win condition," an imagined goal which, given the rules, must give you the game's ending.

Now, maybe this is not a terrible idea. I've never particularly liked games, and I can't imagine I'll ever enjoy the sort of thing that makes up most of the rules-gaming community. But for the subset of people who do like games, this might be an interesting and engaging way of exploring some of the many distinctive features of game rules and the kinds of behaviors they force on players. That's what I think the authors are going for, in any event.

And to that end, it's worth noting that, surprisingly, the authors don't play by the same rules they give their characters. For instance, the anthropomorphic orce narrator knows what words are, right from the outset (in the first section, he actually tells us a number of English words), and yet he never uses them. The plot mostly consists of his trying to work around this minor (but significant) detail, and it is only late in the story that he learns that words exist, and therefore that they can be used.

That is, Er operates on a very different level from other rule-games, where it is not simply a matter of "using the rules to their full extent." A final formulation of the game will not necessarily come from a perfect application of the rules, because the orce doesn't know everything about the rules and probably never will -- in fact, certain rules will only become relevant late in the game, by which time the orce will likely have learned that they exist (even if he doesn't yet know what they do). To the extent that Er is a game, and an exercise in rule-gaming, one must be able to play with the "soup" of rules presented, not simply to the "soup" as such, and to do so in a way that assumes that the soup will become more sophisticated -- that there are details in the rules that will only become available when the orce has learned more about them.

Er, as a game, is a parody of games in the same way that e.g. Sherlock Holmes is a parody of mystery stories: the drama comes not from a puzzle, but from the way the detective figures out the puzzle -- which may involve a lot of wrong turns, "guesses that were at the time wrong but which turned out to be based on some sort of intuitive understanding of the nature of puzzles," and so forth. In other words, it's not just a puzzle, but a puzzle that challenges one's preconceptions about how puzzles are solved, and this is what makes it fun to read.

You'd think I'd be able to say much more about this kind of thing, since after all I've spent my entire life trying to figure out how systems work. But in fact, in order to figure out how systems work, I spend most of my time ignoring the "fun and interesting" bits of them, and learning what the important restrictions aren't. When I play a game, or read a fantasy novel, I am inclined to ignore the actual rules of the game/novel, and theorize about what a "good" or "fair" game/novel would look like, based on my theories of game/story theory and so forth. This is why I'm not a very good roleplayer -- I'm not ever really interested in the part that involves discovering the details of an arbitrary in-game system -- and why I'm happy to tolerate a lot of silly or arbitrary fictional restrictions because I know that if I can, I can "step outside" the system to get to the more interesting places beyond. When the character at the center of the story has to make an arbitrary choice that is somehow "obviously" right, I'm able to see past that choice to the underlying rules that made it "obvious."

When I play a game, my strategy is just to try to understand what makes the game fun. What kind of patterns does the game obey? What patterns does it not follow? What does it leave out that could be interesting?

By contrast, when I play Er, I'm never really interested in "winning," and I'm certainly never interested in looking for the puzzle-like core that will allow me to win. The very concept of a "winning state" is something that I have to extrapolate from the story as it stands, by considering which details I haven't yet been given and extrapolating from my knowledge of the existing rules. I don't try to think of the game as having a "core," I try to think of the game as if it were its own simple world, where its own evolution is completely natural. I'm interested in where this system is going, what new rules will arise, and how everything will develop in a "fair" fashion.

To return to the example of the woman at the bus station: her approach to Er is like the approach one would take to a traditional fairytale. The bus station lady -- or whomever she may be -- says, "welcome to the game, here is a set of rules you need to understand to play. These rules contain information you can use to win. But you can't use all of the rules." To the orce narrator, on the other hand, it is important to have an image of the whole train of rules, so that he knows what he has to work with. The rules are not simply a set of pieces to be assembled into the perfect "win state," but a complete structure in which new rules appear as they always do, in a completely predictable and expected manner.

In other words, if Er is a game, it's the kind of game where you follow the rules and see where they take you -- without trying to preempt the course of the story by trying to direct it. That is what, I think, the authors are doing in Er, and what I feel like they have not done.

There is a sort of hypocrisy in all of this, because the authors of Er have, in effect, asked me to do a lot of the same things they aren't doing in the story itself. I have to try to understand what makes a fairytale "good" -- what makes the reader interested in reading it -- and extrap

[corky-the-gluttony-demon]

DMC: An Absurd Comedy - Flea Market

Summary: Nico drags Corky on an early Saturday morning to find some spare parts for some upgrades on the DMC van.

Characters: Corky (OC), Nico

Location: Red Grave City Outskirts

February 2nd

8:05 AM

Too damn early for anything, especially on a weekend. Corky stood outside the apartment, rubbing her eyes and suppressing a yawn. The morning air was crisp, biting at her skin, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She was still half-asleep, wondering what the hell had possessed her to agree to this.

The van pulled up and Nico was wide awake, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She grinned at Corky like she hadn’t dragged her out of bed at an ungodly hour. “There she is! I was starting to think you were gonna bail on me.”

Corky groaned, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I almost did. You know it’s the weekend, right? Normal people are still asleep.” Nico laughed. “Well, good thing we ain’t normal, huh? Besides, this’ll be fun. Promise.”

Corky raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘fun.’ ‘Cause if it’s anything like the last time you said that, I’m out.”

Nico waved her off, already heading towards her van. “That was different! This is… I dunno, more laid-back. We’re just gonna hit up the flea market. Maybe grab some breakfast after. I got a lead on some old parts I need, and you can check out the food stands. They’ve got everything from churros to fried Twinkies.”

Corky hesitated, glancing at the street like she was considering making a run for it. “I dunno, Nico… Crowds…” She shivered at the thought.

Nico rolled her eyes. “Ain’t gonna be that bad. We’ll be in and out before the rush. Plus, I know you can’t resist good food, and you gotta eat breakfast sometime. Might as well make it worth it.”

Corky sighed, knowing Nico had a point. She was already up. “Fine, but I’m not carrying any of your junk.”

Nico grinned, pulling open the van door. “Deal. Now get in, lazybones. We’re burnin’ daylight!”

Corky muttered under her breath as she climbed into the van, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

The drive was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional grumble from Corky’s stomach. Nico glanced over, smirking. “See? Your belly knows what’s up.”

Corky shot her a glare, “My stomach always does that.” The smell of freshly brewed coffee and something greasy was starting to sound more appealing by the minute.

As they pulled into the flea market parking lot, Corky took a deep breath, steeling herself for the onslaught of humanity. Nico hopped out. “Come on, Corkscrew. First stop, coffee. Then we can dig through the treasure trove.”

Corky nodded, already scanning the market stalls for anything that looked edible. “Yeah, yeah.”

The entrance to the flea market was a bottleneck of people milled around like they had all the time in the world. The coffee line stretched out, and Corky immediately regretted not bailing when she had the chance. The stench of unwashed bodies hit her like a slap in the face. Sweat, cheap cologne, and the unmistakable tang of someone who’d skipped brushing their teeth this morning.

Corky’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Ugh. Is it just me, or does this place smell like a middle-school locker room?”

Nico just grinned. “Oh you and your super-human smell.”

Corky shot her a look, “I can’t help it. It’s in my gluttony-demon nature.” She turned on her heel, ready to make a break for it. But before she could get two steps, Nico’s hand clamped down on her arm, strong as a vise. Corky blinked, surprised by the grip. For a human, Nico had some serious strength.

“We’re already here!” Nico protested. “I just wanna spend some time with you, buddy. Is that too much to ask?”

“I could be in bed right now, y’know? Or eating something that doesn’t smell like it’s been deep-fried in engine oil.”

Nico huffed, not letting go. “You’ll live. Look, flea markets are awesome! You never know what you’re gonna find. It’s like a treasure hunt. Plus, I could use your help finding parts for my next project. I swear, it’ll be fun.”

Corky sighed, giving the crowded market one last glare before relenting. “Fine. What’s your next project, anyway?”

Nico’s eyes lit up, her grip finally loosening as she launched into an explanation. “I’m thinkin’ about modifying the van’s suspension. Get it to handle better in rough terrain. Plus, I might rig up a turret system for when we’re on the move. You know, just in case we need some extra firepower.”

“A turret system? You’re not planning to turn that thing into a tank, are you?”

Nico laughed with a snort.

Corky chuckled. “You’re nuts. But alright, I’m in. Let’s find your parts.”

As they walked through the market, Corky’s initial irritation began to fade. The smells were still there, but she started to notice other things too. The bright colors of the stalls, the eclectic mix of goods ranging from old vinyl records to antique furniture, and the weird but oddly charming trinkets that seemed to have a story behind them. She found herself smiling despite herself, especially as Nico dove headfirst into boxes of rusty car parts, her eyes gleaming like a kid on Christmas morning.

They stumbled upon a stand selling ridiculous novelty hats, and Corky couldn’t resist trying one on—a giant sombrero with sequins. Nico burst out laughing, snapping a quick picture with her phone.

“You look like you’re about to start a mariachi band,” Nico teased.

Corky smirked, tilting the hat to a jaunty angle. “Maybe I should.”

As she admired herself in a nearby mirror, she noticed Nico lugging around a big bag. Corky raised an eyebrow. “What, are you planning on buying out the whole place? Where you gonna put all that?”

Nico shot her a sly grin. “Well, I figured that’s where you come in, Ms. Muscles. You’re the one with the brawn, after all.”

Corky blinked, staring at the bag, then back at Nico. “You expect me to carry that? It’s gonna get heavy.”

Nico shrugged, unfazed. “That’s why I brought you along!”

Corky rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.”

As they weaved through the market, the crowd thickened. Corky wasn’t one to get claustrophobic, but the sea of bodies jostling for space was enough to make anyone feel a little uneasy. She glanced at Nico, who was barely breaking a sweat, but Corky couldn’t shake the nagging worry that they might get separated in this mess.

Nico must’ve caught the look on her face because she nudged her playfully. “What’s the matter, Corkscrew? Worried you’re gonna lose me in here?”

Corky frowned, brushing it off. “Nah, I’m good. Just don’t wanna lose sight of you, that’s all.”

Nico’s grin turned wicked. “Aw, does that mean you wanna hold hands? How sweet.”

Corky shot her a glare. “I’m not five, Nico. I can keep up.”

“Sure, sure,” Nico said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “But if you get lost, I’ll have to ask security to call you over the loudspeaker. You know, like they do for lost kids? ‘Little Corky, please report to the front desk. Your mommy’s looking for you.’”

Corky bristled, her cheeks flushing. “I’m not a kid!”

Nico laughed, and before Corky could protest further, Nico reached down and ruffled her hair.

“Tell you what, let’s make a bet. We hold hands, and if we get separated, you owe me breakfast. Deal?”

Corky crossed her arms, trying to ignore how ridiculous this whole thing was. But she knew Nico wouldn’t let it go until she agreed. With a resigned sigh, she finally said, “Fine. But if we don’t get separated, you’re the one buying breakfast. And you’re carrying your own damn bag.”

Nico’s grin was all triumph. “Deal.” She extended her hand, wiggling her fingers playfully.

Corky rolled her eyes one last time before grabbing Nico’s hand, their fingers interlocking.

As they continued through the stalls, Nico made a show of leading the way, practically dragging Corky along with her.

Sure enough, not even ten minutes in, the crowd thickened like syrup, bodies jostling and pushing as everyone tried to get to the next stall. Corky’s grip on Nico’s hand tightened, but no matter how hard she tried to hold on, it started to slip.

“Nico, slow down!” Corky grumbled, her frustration growing as Nico plowed ahead like a woman on a mission.

But Nico was oblivious, or maybe she just didn’t care. She kept moving, eyes scanning the stalls for whatever parts she had in mind. Corky tried to keep up, but then a group of overly enthusiastic tourists in matching fanny packs suddenly appeared out of nowhere, chattering loudly in some language she didn’t recognize. One of them bumped into her, and that was all it took. Her grip slipped, and before she knew it, she was swept away in the tide of bodies.

“Dammit,” Corky muttered under her breath, elbowing her way through the crowd. She could see Nico up ahead, that familiar head of tousled dark hair bobbing in the distance.

Corky shoved past a group of hipsters debating the merits of vinyl records, nearly tripped over a kid chasing after a balloon, and ducked under an old man carrying a box of rusty tools.

Corky burst through the crowded entrance, a little out of breath and definitely out of patience. And there, leaning casually against a post with a smug grin, was Nico, waiting for her.

“Well, well,” Nico drawled, the knowing glint in her eye impossible to miss. “Looks like I won.”

Corky shot her a look, but it didn’t have the desired effect. Nico just laughed, pushing off the post and strolling over to her like she hadn’t just dragged her through a maze of human obstacles. “You okay there, Cork?”

“I’m fine,” Corky snapped. “But you walk too damn fast.”

Nico shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe. But a bet’s a bet. You owe me breakfast.”

Corky huffed, but she knew there was no getting out of it. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky.”

Nico grinned, hooking her arm around Corky’s shoulders as they made their way to the food stalls. “Too late. C’mon, let’s get some grub. You look like you could use it.”

They found a stand selling greasy breakfast sandwiches that smelled way better than Corky had expected. She grudgingly handed over the cash, ordering two of the biggest sandwiches they had, along with two cups of steaming coffee. The vendor handed them their food with a smile, and they made their way to a small, slightly rickety table off to the side.

By the time they were sitting down with their sandwiches and coffee, Corky was feeling more awake, even a little relaxed. She still wasn’t a morning person, though.

After finishing their breakfast, Corky and Nico decided to dive back into the flea market. Corky was less grumpy now that she had food in her belly, and Nico was as enthusiastic as ever.

Their first stop was a booth overflowing with old car parts, exactly the kind of treasure trove Nico loved. Rusty gears, battered hubcaps, and various unidentifiable metal pieces were strewn across tables and piled in bins. Nico’s eyes lit up as she rummaged through the junk, pulling out items and inspecting them like a kid in a candy store.

“Look at this, Cork,” Nico said, holding up a cracked but salvageable carburetor. “This’ll be perfect for that engine I’m rebuilding. Might need a little TLC, but it’s a steal at this price.”

Corky nodded, pretending to understand the excitement over what looked like a piece of scrap metal. “Yeah, looks… great. You sure it won’t blow up when you stick it in the van?”

Nico chuckled, tossing the part into her bag. “Nah, I got this. Trust me.”

They moved on, with Nico continuing to hunt for parts while Corky occasionally picked up odd items—a set of mismatched wrenches, an old speedometer, a cracked side mirror—wondering what Nico would do with them. At one point, Corky found a small, battered toolbox, and after some negotiation with the vendor, she bought it for Nico. Next, they wandered over to a stand selling vintage clothing. Nico found an old leather jacket that fit her perfectly, worn in just the right places, while Corky tried on a pair of aviator sunglasses that made her look like a tiny, angry cop. Nico couldn’t stop laughing at the sight, and Corky couldn’t help but join in.

“Okay, okay, I won’t get them,” Corky said, putting the sunglasses back. “But that jacket? You gotta get it.’

Nico grinned, slipping the jacket on and checking herself out in a cracked mirror.

They continued their exploration, stumbling upon a stall selling various weapons—mostly decorative, but a few were practical enough to catch Corky’s interest. She picked up a small, wickedly sharp knife, balancing it in her hand and testing the weight.

“Thinking of adding to your collection?” Nico asked, eyeing the blade. Corky shrugged. “Maybe. It’s got a nice feel to it. Could come in handy.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “You and your knives. You’ve already got, what, a dozen?”

Corky smirked. “Fourteen, actually. But who’s counting?”

They moved on to a stall that was selling quirky trinkets and oddities.

Corky was drawn to a small, intricately carved wooden box. She opened it to find it filled with what looked like old letters, their ink faded but still legible.

“What’s that?” Nico asked, peering over Corky’s shoulder.

Corky shrugged, closing the box. “Just some old love letters, I think. Kind of interesting, but I don’t need more clutter.”

Nico gave her a knowing look. “Yeah, but I bet you’re curious now. What’s the story behind them?”

Corky rolled her eyes but ended up buying the box anyway. She figured she could go through the letters later—maybe there was something worth reading in there.

As the morning wore on, they continued exploring, occasionally stopping for snacks—a churro here, a fried dough there. Corky even bought a jar of homemade pickles from an old lady who swore they were the best in the city.

By the time they’d gone through most of the market, Corky’s earlier reluctance had all but disappeared. She wasn’t exactly a flea market convert, but she had to admit, it wasn’t the worst way to spend a Saturday morning. Plus, watching Nico light up with excitement over every weird and wonderful find was almost worth the early wake-up call.

Finally, with their bags full and their wallets lighter, they decided to call it a day. As they headed back to the van, Nico looked over at Corky with a satisfied grin.

“See? Told ya it’d be fun.”

Corky just shook her head, but there was a smile on her lips. “Yeah, yeah. But next time, I’m picking the place. And it better not involve getting up before sunrise.”

Nico laughed, slinging her arm around Corky’s shoulders as they walked. “Deal. But don’t act like you didn’t have a good time. You’re just mad you lost the bet.”

Corky realized that she didn’t have many girlfriends. There was Blessing back in Limbo City, but she was far too mature to ever hang out with. It was refreshing. Just them girls. No Felix calling Corky a fat ass and checking out Nico. No Nero with his perpetual frown.

As they drove back to Red Grave City, the van loaded with their flea market finds, Corky couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Despite the early hour, the crowds, and Nico’s relentless energy, it had been a good day. And maybe, just maybe, she’d even look forward to the next time Nico dragged her out on one of these adventures.