#needlessly melancholy

[flourmelon]

Every morning I wake, I expect to see him. Every time we round a bend. Every snap of stick in this forest is one that he is breaking just ahead of me.

Andrew Krivak, The Bear

12.14.24

🐻🦅🍯💘😩

[flightyalrighty]

What do you think about Shadow? What is your personal perception of him? I'm curious about your answer (I hope is spoiler free)

On his character profile, wikipedia etc... for a while he is describled in a strong negative way, like he has no positive traits, an anti-MarySue. But I remember that Shadow from SA2 to 2006, including Shadow 2005 (surprisling, watching the cut scene, I found his positive traits are still there), and then Prime Shadow, tMoStH (those two versions are a bit shy) and Archie Shadow has a good balance of positive and negative traits. In particular the first Shadow (Adventure 2) was enternaining, he seemed playful and mischievous at times, like he was sill a kid even if he was heavily burdened by his past, and there was something likeable in Shadow in Heroes, like he is nice to have around as friend although sometimes he may get difficult to deal with his stubborness, melancholy and pessimism.

Often people complain about Shadow being too expressive in Archie comics. I admit I complained too before rewatching SA2/Sheroes cutscenes, reading some old Sega description of the character, how Maekawa envisioned him (far different than what we have today and that's clear from SA2), I could see Archies' choices.

Also, Archie Shadow is still cold and gruff toward those he doesn't know/he didn't connect with (I lovd the part where he was answering to Relic's questions). He shows his softer side only to his closest friends and still has that hints of distrust, typical of those that were and are still abused and rejected in every possible way.

I like how you showed this in the early page of Infested. The Shadow in first pages is caring toward Rouge, but he is quiet, very focused, and stubborn (when he wanted to complete his mission despite the double concussion and the pain). I see the tick (the bug makes me think to a tick. I see them quite often bvecause the little b...s often attack my cats) is now neutralizing his mental shield, leaving him with his insecurities exposed and vulnerable, in order to make him panic more easily. Shadow's personality is still there for now but his defense is gone.

I think that different continuities have different takes on Shadow (as you mentioned with Archie and Prime). While I thought pretty long and hard about how to answer this, ultimately I'm not sure how. I'll try?

My personal perception of Shadow is simply how he was written before the series had its big tonal shift starting with Sonic Colors. This no-nonsense guy who strives to do the right thing in the most straightforward and efficient way possible. His character arc concluded with Sonic 06, and then he was slid backwards by a company that wanted so badly to twist the franchise to suit the whims of people who never had a real interest in Sonic to begin with. Shadow is so much more than the flat character he'd been hydraulic pressed into. He's more than

This.

I don't envy Ian Flynn's job. He started his career a lot more free to write Shadow how he wanted to, and then found himself struggling against more and more and more restraints -- To the point that he's said on record that he doesn't like writing Shadow anymore. That's sad, especially when my favorite take on all of Team Dark came from his pen. Ian Flynn, famously, was Archie Sonic's writer until its death.

Archie's Team Dark is how I love to see them written.

Archie Shadow, in particular, had a lot more going on than game!Shadow. He was far less likely to cause friction within the Team Dark dynamic -- Not to say friction is a bad thing in fiction, quite the opposite, but when that friction happens all the time it's exhausting. If Shadow was actually allowed more moments to be an actual teammate or collaborate with someone outside of Team Dark without making the whole situation way more needlessly difficult all on his own, that could solve a lot of the issues folks have been complaining about. Like, he doesn't even need to be written nicer, just more willing to work with allies when necessary. He used to do this. Now he barrels into every situation solo.

Anyway, kvetching about Shadow's current writing concluded (on top of the actual answer for this ask).

[koboldfactory]

One again reminded that there is nothing quite like the Sonic Adventure soundtrack. So many songs that are needlessly long and complex in a good way. Like Red Hot Skull for Red Mountain is only heard for like a minute tops in game if you're slow but all of the ultra cool stuff in that song is after the 1:30 mark. Just so many masterful tracks that you don't get to appreciate unless you go and listen to the whole OST outside of the game.

Gonna put some of my favorites (that aren't like major popular tracks) below the break. I am begging you to listen to these if you haven't before and/or if you have any interest in game music in general.

you practically never hear the stuff after a minute in to this song and it's incredible:

And this song literally only plays in the last room of a level for 2 seconds unless you replay it because the flag is broken for the previous area to activate it:

And of course nothing will be able to match the incredible somber melancholy of Gamma's theme:

This song has one of the strongest openings of all time:

Another amazing track that only plays for like 7 seconds in a cutscene:

The regular boss themes in this game don't get enough credit for how awesome they are:

There's far more that I would put on here if I could, but this post is long enough so I'll just end with this:

[theshatteredpieces]

Alone in the endless sea

Tossed by waves, I yearn to be Released from the hold of your memory As I drown in the expanse of our history I replay that day so vividly

I was so broken mentally Needing a shred of empathy I tried to explain shamelessly How my mind had begun to atrophy

And when you arrived so quickly I felt a sense of hope briefly But you greeted me so thoughtlessly And treated me so differently

It felt as if you were ready to leave You had already decided you were done with me And all I could do was watch helplessly As you turned to go impetuously

It left me wondering endlessly Had you ever truly loved me Was my sadness beyond your sympathy Was I nothing more than temporary

I tried to move on conscientiously And focus my efforts on living happily But it was just a mirage, a fantasy And soon the cracks formed concentrically

First my job and the endless tendency Of my boss to treat me contemptuously Then my health and how the system needlessly Creates aggravation and stress persistently

I struggled in the swell desperately Trying to call out for help, a plea But it came out so breathlessly A meek whisper, and no one could hear me

As my daughter became melancholy Cutting herself needlessly While my friends withdrew steadily And I simply retreated silently

Adrift alone in the endless sea Lost in a world of uncertainty, Waves crashing, winds howling relentlessly, Searching for a sign of serenity

Until at last I decided finally To end my life “accidentally” And free her from all my misery So that she could live life happily

Without my burdens weighing heavily On an innocent child unintentionally But help arrived clandestinely And a new door was opened existentially

I am now rewriting my story And shedding the skin of who I used to be Embracing the person before me And loving her unconditionally

And although I’ve started anew mindfully I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever be Able to reach the shore and finally Release the hold of your memory.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

I’m going back and reading past couple chapter Jadeite Ginko and… okay I’m having some thoughts, including on the name of the fic now.

Zhongli breaks his cover so to speak, with Childe, with the melancholy of relating to an ancient species of tree. Something so connected to everything else, yet so alone. That everything around it, the world and the creatures it once knew have changed and vanished. “Like everything he knew was long gone too”. In addition to surviving the archon war, he’s also here now. So very alone. Ginkos are ancient. They predate bees, are pollinated by beetles- and the beetles that pollinate them today are not the ones they once lived alongside. They’re a beautiful thing. But such a lonely one too.

And here’s Zhongli. Morax, guardian of Liyue. He talks about how anchoring everything to it would be needlessly cruel, but. Doesn’t Zhongli seem to take that role? Teaching and protecting everyone else here. Trying to get to the bottom of everything while sharing little of the burden with others Zhongli aren’t you a Ginko anchoring itself to everything around yourself? And I just. Feel bad for him. And I feel like we’ve seen that mounting stress (things aren’t good enough, needing to do better than standard issue, the incident with Xingqui and just). Yeah.

Started this whole thing wanting to rotate Childe being gay for his mountain maiden, speaking of just the. “If he was something like the Mountain Maiden, something anchored to the earth the same way wood spirits were anchored to the trees and water spirits were anchored to the rivers and oceans- Just what would something like this- What would it feel like to him...?” God that’s a fun part to read and go insane over. Noticing the actual physical pain and. God. Childe is Noticing Things. His crush is a mountain spirit who’s home got attacked with negative energy specifically trying to kill him.

God. You’re driving me insane. Thank you for the fantastic chapters. -☁️

long detailed comments about my fic save me. save me long detailed comments about my fics

[malaks-perch]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

asra alnazar, portia and julian devorak (all separate)

what your lover thinks of sending you love notes and what they send to you

minors + ageless blogs do not interact

𝘈𝘚𝘙𝘈

- if theres anything he loves more than pillows its taking the time out of his day to write a little love note to you

- can you imagine him locking his ankles in the air while he writes a love note to you while he’s away from home, away from you because he’s thinking about the smile on your face when you get to read his notes

- adores telling you about how beautiful, fantastical, brilliant things could never amount to you

- he puts his heart into every word and occasionally sprinkles bits of poetry in there because he can’t help sharing the lovely sonnets and odes that remind him of you

- his chest fills with so much love seeing you sent him a love letter, keeps every single one tied together in a special place in his shop as if a thief will come in the night to steal your lovely words away

asra's love letter gift includes :: raw crystals, shiny foreign currency, and feathers

𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘈

- the idea came to her when she’s too busy with work at the palace when there’s not much time to see you, but she wants to express how much she misses you and adores you

- she writes a lot of love letters to you only because she finds these moments in her day where she has time and really it’s shifted from hobby to art form in which she comes up with new ways to describe how she feels in the moments that you’re not with her and honestly she gives asra a run for his money with how she can make you tear up

- she has a little journal she brings around with her so when she’s daydreaming of you, she can jot down the little spark of love that blossoms in her chest

- portia is a talented writer and she has the countess to thank for that, but the countess couldn’t have possibly taught her ‘my heart lingers in my eyes vying for a chance to give itself yours’, lines like that have anyone tearing up

- she cheers a little whenever you sneak a love letter to her, either in a book or at the doorstep of her cottage, she’s sighing because she loves you more and more each day

portia's love letter includes :: seed packets, soft textile and ribbon from the market, and heart folds with messages inside

𝘑𝘜𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘕

- now this one, don’t even get me started with love letters, don’t you dare miss returning one to him without telling him you’re busy or you’ll surely have him pouting the next time you see him

- he loves sending you love letters as much as he loves receiving them because it’s blatantly obvious that his love language is words of affirmation and if he doesn’t get those through your letters then there’s a fair chance he’s taking this to heart

- aside from that, julian is the king of poetry, where do you think portia got it from?

- mazelinka has caught his distant eyes and worried why he’s so serious and he’ll twirl a quill in hand and explain how he’s considering what he’ll put in his next love letter to you (drama king 2.0)

- his smile is so melancholy when he receives another love letter from you, tears prick to his eyes sometimes because you really are his treasure and the best ways he can express how much you mean to him are through these passages where he’s free to declare his love and free to tell you that he loves you without the stress of consequence when it’s only him, his pen, and needlessly expensive paper

julian's love letter includes :: sea shells, topographic maps snippets of where he is, and small sketches

<333 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘙𝘌𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘎 𝘖𝘙 𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘈 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘛!! <333

[paraphwrites]

gang i got an ask then accidentally deleted it so i'm answering it like this. sorry anon. i did my best (i failed miserably & do not accept criticism)

horrid approximation of the ask: i want to make an animatic for manuscript, song suggestions?

first off that's absolutely insane /pos. kind of floored that you care enough about my fic to make an animatic. that's like the highest possible praise

songs featured in the fic:

our house by crosby, stills, nash & young this one is pretty happy, actually, so maybe not quite the manuscript vibe. but it is distinctly domestic and still very much melancholy. it feels very much like the future dream of edwin and charles -- not quite real, but very much necessary to believe in in order to get through all of their struggles (both past and future...)

time in a bottle, by jim croce this one is sad, but i think it encapsulates edwin's fear of loosing everything he strived for. it's also a love song, though not quite a happy one. it's not desperate, either, it's just longing. the love is just there, tainted by the inherent temporality of mortality

all apologies, by nirvana it's needlessly poetic, like manuscript. it's essentially an apology for existing, which is very edwin core. it's about love and longing but mostly about the self and what the self is not

songs not in the fic:

iris, by the goo goo dolls supercut, by lorde love of my life, by queen if we were vampires, by jason isbell and the 400 unit in the cold, by vincent lima the forever now, by mandy moore (this is us cast)

okay these are just a couple ideas, enjoy! i tried to keep them more in line with the vibe. anon if you have anything else you want/need to know, hit me up, either through an ask that i promise not to delete this time, or send me a dm!

[anonymusbosch]

the office has a little machine that dispenses ice, cold water, and hot water. Nice for making tea or cooling down coffee or whatnot. Now, the old ice machine had a quirk - the amount of ice it wanted to dispense was No or Yes, usually manifesting as a quiet mechanical rumble followed by the sound of half a liter of ice dumping out into your mug all at once and overflowing and breaking all over the floor. It was very predictable. If you let go of the button too quickly, you would get no ice. If you let go too late, you would get much too much ice. There was no "correct time" that would get you Enough ice - or it changed every time, or with the motion of the planets, or with the melancholy moods which all such dispensers are prone to.

So the office manager got a new ice machine. This one is capable of dispensing Enough ice. However, it's also the stupidest machine known to man. It's touchless. I don't know why an ice machine needs to be touchless. You might think it's like the water fountains that detect whether your bottle is under the dispenser but NO. No, it has a sensor which you must hold your hand roughly 1.5 inches in front of to turn on the water or ice dispenser. To cycle through water temperatures, you wave at the little sensor. The little sensor that, mind you, looks like a button. And suppose you want to fill your 1-L water bottle. With a normal dispenser, you might hold the bottle in front of the sensor, or you might push a button with the bottle, or there might be a little lever you pull or button you push with your hand. With This dispenser, you must hover your hand 1.5" in front of a sensor the size of a paperclip. The sensor's "happy range" seems to be narrower than I can steadily hold my hand for 30 seconds. So. You gotta stabilize your hand on something. You gotta touch the touchless machine with your fingers so that your palm hovers in the right place. You stand there, feeling a bubbling frustration with the touchless dispenser, needlessly complicated - harmless, but stupid for no reason - and see that the office manager has tacked up a sign saying you can find her for training to use the dispenser.

Training. To use the water machine. You die inside. You necromance yourself in time to pull your bottle away. As you turn, you pass the ice sensor. The machine petulantly spits a single ice cube onto the floor.

The next time you go to use the dispenser you hold the bottle in your right hand and try to hover over the sensor with your left hand. This is a fool's mistake. With your fingers steepled over the water sensor, you do not hear the rumbling from the machine. You don't see that you are melting your wax feathers, little cafeteria Icarus. You are summoning the demon this machine was meant to banish.

You don't notice that your arm is in front of the ice sensor until an avalanche of ice desecrates the floor. And then everyone notices.

Humbled and scrambling you snatch up the cubes before they start to melt, throwing them into the sink. You curse the makers of the machine that bested you and you curse the office manager for choosing the dumbest machine man has deigned to make. You curse yourself for your inadequacy. (Internally, all of these - no ill will directed at the manager aloud.) And apparently you curse yourself, for when you return later to request ice cubes from this machine's cruel lips,

it has but one to spare.

[rain-in-the-clouds]

After Dark

Chapter 1: Dammit.

Choso/Reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive themes, swearing, reference to durg and alcohol use.

Word count: 9,860

Y/n, an art student who was once friends with twins Yuji and Sukana. When the three were children they spent all their time together, the boys acting as knights for Y/n, but she wouldn’t hesitate to tell someone off for crossing the boys, standing up to anyone even adults. But it was short lived. When they were fourteen, a few years after the twins mom died, thier dad got a better job far away at some prestigious hospital forcing them to move. It was a painful goodbye, filled with promises, some that were kept and others that felt to far to think about. In a rush watching them drive away, Y/n grabbed her bike and rode towards them, speeding faster then her legs have ever gone, ending up just behind their car, both boys watched and waved, some tears in thier eyes, Yuji’s more then Sukana’s. But she stopped just at the bridge, the end of town, skidding into a stop watching them leave finally.

10 years later.

Y/n now a fresh undergrad in the arts, followed a scolorship across the country to further her arts career. Over the years the twins and Y/n kept in contact, emails then texts later, at least once a month she’d call both Yuji and Sukana, catching up needlessly. The two had even video called her when their dad met thier step mom and thier new older brother, and then again after the wedding in junior high. For better or worse the three kept up with each other, but some things were kept secret, events and emotions both.

It was a Wednesday when Yuji got the call from Y/n, excitement spilling like a waterfall. Yuji quickly made plans to pick her up from the airport along with his dad, waiting to tell Sukana so he couldn’t back out at the last second.

That next Friday Yuji came bounding into the basement of his and Sukana’s shared house, thier small but tight-nit group was scattered about the large room. Startling half the group, causing Nobara and Maki to yell at him, but through his slight blush and goofy expression he happily proclaimed, “Todays the day!” Completely ignoring the confusion that hit in the room, even his twin was puzzled.

“What the hell are you on about now brat?” His was annoyed. But Yuji just waved off the bitterness in his voice.

“Y/n.” He said it as if it was the final puzzle pice, but everyone was still confused, except his twin. Who’s expression and body language suddenly changed, becoming calm yet ridged, his shoulders relaxed but back tense, unseen by the others, but Yuji saw many emotions cross over his brothers expression in a flash before a small, barely there smile appeared.

“You could have said that sooner!” He screamed, his emotions always coming out as bombastic anger, Yuji’s friends; Nobara, Inumaki, Maki and Panda made it a point to stay away from the easily enraged twin, going so far as to point out everything they don’t like about him. Megumi and Yuta, Yuji’s best friends, saw through Sukana and also found companionship in him despite his rough edges. It seemed Choso, thier older step brother and thier step mom where the only outsiders who accepted him without question. “Well is she here? What’s goin on?” He shot one question after another without care or pause. Yuji simply laughed.

“No she’s not here yet, but her planes gonna be landing soon, Dad and I were gonna go get her.” Yuji paused to give a smug shiteating look towards Sukana, “If you wanna come, I’m leaving for Dad’s now.” Sukana in a held back panic grabbed up his things before bounding towards the stairs. Before Yuji could follow, Choso called from his spot on the couch, Yuji didn’t notice him at first till Sukana started yelling. Yuji quirked his brow in question. But it stayed silent for longer then nessesary, something Choso did frequently.

“Don’t forget the party. Should bring your friend.” His voice was lazy, almost melancholy, stating something obvious, confusing his younger brother. Yuji just nodded, being pulled back to reality by Sukana screaming a string of courses at his twin till he was up the stairs leaving the house. The group looked amongst each other, baffled at what they all collectively just saw, and more confused as to who they were talking about. However Choso and Megumi knew, both having been told, several times, about Y/n from both Yuji and Sukana. The two sharing their own look, knowing they’d have to fill everyone else in.

—

Y/n was nervous, excited, happy, anxious, and everything in between. The trip had been more stress endusing then she’d had expirenced in a long time. Only sleeping a handful of hours on the plane, by the time she’d arrived her body was sore and mind starting to blow out. Trudging through the terminal till she had to sling her heavy bags over her shoulder, luckily the rest of her things having been mailed to her new ‘affordable’ apartment, with that in mind she moved onward to departcher. So lost in tired thought she wasn’t sure who she was looking for, just knowing someone was bound to be there, but she just couldn’t put it together. It wasn’t until she was through a crowed of people, smushed together and into herself, a familiar voice shouting her name. At the gate stood three pink haired men she never thought she’d get to see again, they were standing side by side; Mr. Itadori, the twins father, was in the middle holding a small cardboard sigh with Y/n’s name scribbled on it. Yuji was jumping, waving his arms with the biggest smile on his face. Sukana was on the opposite side of his dad, one arm waving, still calling her name out. It felt like years passed while she stood thier, longer then normal, watching the three, their unique smiles and energery bringing a comfort and warmth she’d forgotten about in all the years apart.

“Boys!” She called back, her voice braking slightly, with whatever enegery she had left she spent waving back to them before dropping her luggage and charging towards them. Mr. Itadori was laughing, a small part of the past coming back from the shadows of thier memory, bounding at them without pause. Yuji took one step forward, his arms extended out to meet Y/n half way, but Sukana had the same idea, the two ending up bumping into each other. Sukana was about to push his twin away but Y/n was already to them, jumping at them with all her tired might. Small tears created by exhaustion and joy pricked at the corners of her eyes as she connected with the two. Wrapping her arms around their necks, pulling them to her, but they were heavy and off balance, the three only standing for half a second before they went tumbaling backwards. Both Yuji and Sukana were holding onto Y/n taking her down with them, the three old friends found themselves on the hard ground in a tangled mess of limbs. A second fell where they were silent, eyes shifting between each other before a roar of laughter came from them. Mr.Itadori just stood a moment and allowed them their enjoyment, but he leaned over them a second later, a soft smile on his sweet expression.

“It’s good to see you again Y/n, but I think it’s time to get up.” It was said softly, but enough to shock the three into standing abruptly, splitting apart just enough that the boys could sling an arm around her shoulders, caging her between them. Both seemed so boyish in that moment, innocent, happy, time having stood still between them. Y/n, however, was suddenly stuck again with exhaustion, hitting her in waves. In an instant she was actually using them for support, both caught, Sukana broke away to grab Y/n’s small luggage, but was back helping hold her up.

To Y/n it was a haze, the walk to the car felt hours long, but then a blink later she was at her new apartment, sitting on her half unpacked couch. Sukana and Yuji moved around the cluttered space, assumingly clearing a path, or just setting her carried on luggage somewhere in sight. But both said a half goodbye, the words coming to Y/n in mumbled sounds.

When she woke up it was mid evaning, still sluggish but recovering better then she expected. Like she thought, the boys left her stuff in front of the couch, as well as locking the door when they left. Y/n found her phone, seeing five separate text, two from Sukana and three from Yuji.

Yuji’s came seconds after he left, a long poorly written pharagraph explaining what happened, though the information was scattered throughout. Next came 20 minutes later, an invite to a party he and Sukana were holding that night. Five minuets later was an apology, realizing she might not be up to it after all the travaling.

Sukana’s text were to the point, but sweet in his own way. The first was sent the same as Yuji’s, but his was a simple, “Glad you’re back.” Then a few hours later, possibly the notification that woke her up, was the same invitation, but different in that he was more adamant that she stay home and rest. Something she half expected from the fiery twin. She didn’t reply immediately, first washing herself up and stripping of her dirty sweats and t-shirt.

Though she was tired the boys party was in the back of her mind as she moved about the space, from the small kitchen to her one person bathroom, the idea of a night out was quickly becoming appealing. “Putting off unpacking couldn’t hurt”, was her thought. Before she could change her mind she fired off two text, one to each of the boys. To Yuji she wrote, “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll be there, but I need the address.” Seconds later she got the address along with a big smiling thumbs up sticker. To Sukana, “I’ll be coming to the party. You better introduce me to everyone.” A nonthreat, poking fun at his hatred for large groups and small talk. He only replied with an exasurated angery face. She giggled to herself about the twins, all to happy to be around them again, despite moving thousands of miles away from her family home, she felt like she already knew everything. A glance at the clock told her she only had two hours to get ready. Not having much of her stuff unpacked she was left with few options, settling for a pair of snug taddered shorts and a slim fit graphic tee. She thought herself funny, the shirt was a gift from her friend Tanji, it was white with 90s style art, the words “The world does revolve around me,” was printed across it. At first she thought it was a bad joke, but now seeing where she was and how things have shaken out so far; it made her laugh. Y/n was grabbing up a small purse when a knock came from her door.

—

Yuji was at his shared house, running around the place setting out stuff for the expectedly big party, music area, alcohol and food, the works. Panicking about a million things, despite having thrown such events many times before, creating a reputation for himself. Their group of friends had left hours prior, off to prep and primp, the only one who stayed behind was Megumi, helping out the twins. Sukana was setting up the music area, moving furniture, placing way too big speakers up in the corners, and setting up an hours long playlist, but he still sent out a mass text with a link to the playlist, allowing people to add or ‘request’ songs, something a rando suggested during one of their first parties, it stuck. Megumi was locking up anything valuable, as well as locking up most of the bedrooms, ending back downstairs with Sukana and Yuji.

Yuji was in the kitchen near frantically putting whatever he could think out when his phone began to loudly ring. Swiping it from his pocket he answers slightly out of breath. “Hello?” It came out as a question through a heavy half gasp.

“Hey Yuji,” It was Y/n. “I need some help-“ She tired to continue but Yuji suddenly worried cut her off in a rush.

“What!? What’s going on?” His voice spiked in that boyish way when he was genuinely freaked out, the volume of his voice had Sukana and Megumi rushing themselves into the kitchen. Sukana looked like he was about to combust, while Megumi found Yuji’s gaze, seeing the panic there.

“What’s wrong?” Sukana questioned in a forceful huff. Yuji threw a hand up towards his brother, waving him over. He was next to him in a heartbeat, both listening to Y/n intently, who had been telling them to calm down from the second Yuji started to worry.

“Will you two stop for five seconds!” Even Megumi heard. “I’m okay you dorks! God you two I swear, always jumping to the worst thing.” She began a ramble, something that had Megumi unexpectedly laughing, the twins both looked like a deer in headlights. For a flash they didn’t register what Y/n was saying. “Boys!” Got their attention back finally.

“Sorry!” They both shouted in unison.

“Look I messed up during the move. My complex is getting fumigated. Apparently they sent out warnings weeks ago, but mine got sent to an old address. I’ve pretty much been kicked out for a week.” She explained in a rush, standing on the sidewalk outside her apartment, one duffel bag on the ground and a small backpack slung around one shoulder as she paced back and forth.

Yuji interrupted again, after clapping a hand over Sukana’s mouth, only somewhat muffling his yelling. “What? How’d that happen.” Yuji was almost scary calm, nonchalant even. “It sucks but, why don’t you crash here for a week?” He spoke similarly like his Dad, soft, kind, but an ernest demand. Sukana stilled and Yuji dropped his hand, but his eyes were the same, a fire behind them. It was silent, the three thinking.

To Megumi it seemed like the three were somehow communicating telepathically. From a glance it looked like Sukana was glaring at Yuji, but recalling he’s stairing at the silent phone. Yuji, who was a little easier to read, was staring at the ground, digging an invisible hole. But what felt forever long, was only a minuet of quiet thinking, Y/n answering.

“Yeah..Okay.” Her voice was calm, relieved even. The twins both relaxd as well, but were still doing the silent talking thing they do before Sukana cut in.

“Yuji will come get you, we have a guest room and everything.” The other boys squinted their eyes at the tatted twin, both confused about what he thinks ‘everything’ is. Another beat, “Well? Go!” He gestured wildly towards the door, supersizing Yuji back into the moment.

“Wha- The party? Dude?” He wasn’t stoping Sukana from ushering him towards the garage door, but was puzzled nonetheless. Y/n was still on the phone, clearly hearing all of this. Sukana again spoke in a huff.

“Gumi and I got it, just go before traffic gets bad.” Yuji shot a glance to the aforementioned friend, who simply shrugged.

“Okay.” Yuji nodded to Sukana before holding the phone back to his ear. “I’m leaving right now, just wait by the gate. Yeah, I will, o-okay- bye.” Sukana was curious but didn’t stop his brother. As fast as the call came in it was over, Yuji leaving for downtown, while Sukana and Megumi were left to finish setting up the house. But in the back of all fours minds was this lingering question, an odd awkward feeling.

—

Some 40 minuets had passed, Y/n stacked her bags and was sitting on them, lazalie leaning against the metal gate. Checking her phone ever few minuets, but even with the busy traffic Yuji was their faster then she anticipated. The drive back wasn’t nearly as long, but it was full of a so for table warm silence between the two. It was changed when they arrived back at the boy’s house, the party was past full swing, the house overtaken by what seemed like half the collage. Yuji pulled into the garage, the music was muffled, but the intense bass and fast beat still came through. But both just let it roll off them with a rocous of laughter.

“Will just lock your stuff in the car for now.” Yuji said sheepishly, eyes scanning his phone. “Well let’s go meet the gang.” He said though there was a layer of nerves behind his expression. Y/n didn’t call attention to it, just let it sit in the back of her mind.

The two made their way through the main room, once big and roomy now packed and cramped, bodies smushed together, sweaty and dancing; the music so load it felt like her eyes were shaking in her skull. Yuji led her to a thin set of stairs, the walls lined with faux wood panaling, and it had no light except for the upstairs that leaked down; through the thin door was the basement where Yuji and Sukana’s friends were congregating.

The vibe amongst the group was vastly different then the raging party just up the stairs, it threw Y/n off. For the first time in a while she felt uncomfortable under the groups gaze, though she wasn’t sure who was who yet. But the twins were right there, Sukana appeared out of thin air beside Y/n, opposite Yuji.

“Guys, this is Y/n.” The spunky twin gesture to Y/n like she was a new invention, it made her smile. Sukana was not smiling.

“Fuck, how lame can you be?” He was glaring again, a natural state for him, overly annoyed with the situation. Y/n just started laughing again, truly she’d missed these moments with them.

“You two haven’t changed, ya know that?” She spoke through burst of laughter, clutching her stomach for support. Not really composing it herself, Y/n waved at the group. “Hi everyone. Sorry bout that.” A few forced deep breaths and she was back to a semi calm state. Some of them waved in return and some said their own ‘hello’ back. Yuji’s smile grew while Sukana rolled his eyes, Y/n couldn’t prove it but she’s sure Sukana was remarking under his breath. Yuji gestured again but this time to the group.

First point to a lithe brunette, “This is Megumi.” He planned on introducing them one by one. Sukana held it back, but in his mind he was laughing uncontrollably. Megumi gave a soft smile and an even softer, ‘hey.’ Next to him was a slightly taller brunette, he was skinnier in the face though. But he interupted and introduced himself first.

“Yuta.” He extended his hand that Y/n took, he was kind, Y/n could easily see why Yuji liked them. The next were two who kept shifting from anilitacal to reserved. Yuji just looked at the pair with the same expression Y/n has seen him give teachers in the past.

“This is Nobara and Maki….Why do you two look like that?” Both just scowled at him.

“Like what?” Nobara said, squaring up like she was going to throtal him. “Sorry Y/n, I just can’t imagine these two having a childhood friend who hasn’t strangled them!” What was first directed towards Y/n quickly came back to Yuji, who was obviously holding in a laugh.

After a bit and all the introductions out of the way, Y/n was standing with Sukana and Megumi, the two halfassed explaining the set up of the house, ultamitly confusing Y/n, but she let if go, knowing she could always explore later. It was turning late into the night and Y/n had a spike of energy.

“Ya know I feel like goin upstairs for a while.” She proclaimed to the two next to her, but loud enough that Yuji heard, he simply waved in response.

“Know the way?” Sukana asked, it could have been a teasing joke, but he was serious. Y/n nodded.

“I’ll be fine.” She patted his chest before turning for the stairs, stopped by Megumi.

“Stay away from any punch.” It was a genuine warning, the sudden vibe that hit the boys was sad but not shocking, they could hope that nothing could happen, but, though the boys would never admit it aloud, were relived that Gumi voiced the concern and warning.

After Y/n was gone Yuji and Sukana let out a sigh, one of relief and one of exhaustion. Maki asked the obvious question. “What’s going on now?” Neither answered, Yuji was rubbing his neck with his eyes closed while Sukana grabbed up a loose pack of ciggertts, Yuta answering for them.

“I believe their reeling.” He said so matter-of-factory, yet so sweet. Megumi nodded along.

“Yeah, been a busy day.” If this group was having a conversation, somehow they made it seem like it was never actually with each other. “Go outside to smoke!” He suddenly shouted, not having to look behind him to know what Sukana was going to do. The fiery twin’s eyes flared, but nothing came of it, he opened the one window and crawled out of it to smoke, effectively leaving the conversation entirely. Yuji chuckled while dropping his hand and head.

“Yeah it has been.” He leaned back on the couch his body relaxed, “Just glad it’s done.” His friends could guess, Megumi and Yuta especially, but ignored his vege sentence. The lull in the conversation didn’t last. Yuji glanced around the room and between his friends, noticing someone missing. “Where’s Choso?” He directed his question at Yuta.

He paused while gazing at the ceiling, genuine or not, he was thinking. “He said he had to do something at the shop….I think he should be here by now.” The words left him in a quizzical tone, leading Yuji to believe he wasn’t actually sure. But nothing came of it, not immediately; Yuji pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his older brother.

—

Y/n nodded earnestly, “Will do.” Was last said before she was up the stairs. It was still packed, but the groups of people had become closer, but more spread out, allowing some space to open up. It took a second for Y/n to make her way to the kitchen, but was happily surprised to see it mostly empty, except for a few people huddled in the corner near an open window. She found a cooler filled with cans and bottles. She grabbed three small cans of a salty seltzers, gorse but will give a nice short buzz. With that thought in mind Y/n waisted no time in slamming all three of them, standing a moment, allowing her body to process the alcohol. While standing there she focused on the music, it was still so loud but it felt far away; the closer she listened the louder it got again, but any annoyance was wiped away when Heat Waves, a favorite came on. Not thinking she quickly made her way to the living room where meny people were dancing and lazalie swaying to the music. It was a slowed remix of the song, but it still pulled Y/n into dancing. Unbeknownst to her, a dark pair of eyes found her from across the room, following her to the ‘dance floor’.

Choso stood against the mantel, his large frame slouched forward as he watched and took large slugs off his cheap beer. That’s when he saw her, totally unaware of who she is, but he had this feeling, recognition when he saw her, but he also knew he’d never met her before. When she was near the center, having danced her way there, a thought came into Choso’s mind. But he was abruptly stopped by his phone vibrating against his leg. He thought about ignoring it, stairing at his leg for what felt like forever, but he begrudgingly pulled it out and scanned the text that was sent to him. Yuji.

“If you’re here come down to the basement.” It was straight forward indicating how serious he felt. Choso sighed dramatically to himself, roughly scrubbing a hand over his face. Discarding his beer he slung his jacket around his shoulder and headed for the basement; all the while his eyes would drift and sway back towards the mystery girl still dancing away. He scrunched up his face when he finallly rounded the corner down the stairs, confirming to himself that he’d be back up in no time; with that in mind he picked up his pace and strode through the door.

The group in the basement had thinned out, half passed out, Maki and Nobara, while the others were on and around the couch. Sukana and Megumi were the only two standing, by the ‘bar’. Choso’s entrance had the awake ones shifting their collective gaze to him. His brain froze for a second, but the blaring music behind him kept him semi focused on getting back upstairs. He continued further into the large basement, discarding his coat behind the bar with Sukana, before heading for Yuji and Yuta on the couch.

“I’m here?” Choso was always quiet, distant, especially when he was getting annoyed, but if he was comfortable around someone the more he’d relax, say more the five words. But his question was left hanging in the air. “Yuji?” He said with a bit more force behind it, causing Yuji, Yuta and Sukan to raise their brows at the eldest. “You told me to come down here. Why?” Choso always felt like he was speaking another language, having to brake everyone of his thoughts down. Yuji finally got the hint and remembered what was going on. It was at that moment Choso realized Yuji was drunk, or stoned, some combination of the two. Yuji having the highest tolerance in the group, was also the easiest to hide his intoxication.

“Thas’ right…” Yuji blinked, forcing his eyes to focus, but still having to glance to Sukana to remember what he was saying. “Our friend is here, I, I wanted you to meet ‘er.” The longer he spoke the more his words blended together, he was starting to lean against Yuta who was dead eyeing Megumi, his eyebrows raising and glaring at the younger brunette in a frantic manner. Megumi was holding in a laugh, having to grip the bar’s edge for support.

Sukana was smiling to himself, pouring he and Megumi another shot, having enough with the beating around the bush he proclaimed as loud as he could, “Just don’t hit on her dude!” He was so loud even the passed out girls heard him. Choso’s expression turned to frustrated shock, rarely does he get angry or annoyed with his brothers, but whenever they even insinuate that he sleeps around it boils his blood, its just not the truth. The room was. silent, Sukana was staring Choso down, Yuji was lazalie nodding along, drifting further by the second, trapping Yuta on the couch till he was completely passed out. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to defend himself again, didn’t want to let Sukana get to him again. Instead he huffed to himself, a growl like sound leaving him before he left the basement.

Upstairs the music was bumping so hard it felt like the house was shaking, which it probably was; Y/n was still in the living room converted dance floor, ignoring the world and others close around her. Choso had to wade through the crowd, people passed normal intoxication were bumping and crashing into each other left and right. When he got back to the living room it had repopulated a considerable amount, the music having called the herd of 20 something’s to rymithcly bounce around. Near the center was the mystery girl; Choso was surprised to see someone let go in such a way, it fascinated him to no end. Choso stood out of the way for a bit, watching the mass of bodies move around, eyes losing and finding the girl, he wanted to talk to her, but she seemed so far away. But the change in music was to his favor, lulling him out of his corner and into the sea of people. His tall frame had him towering over most, but he ignored the awkwardness that seemed to cling to him, and began to move with the music. The song itself was odd, off beat, Sail, a remix of the song; it was his perfect rhythm.

He was able to let go, something about the moment had him dropping walls, the deep base drop into the rapid change called Choso to continue forward. Though he was egaarly enjoying his time, even with the crowd bumping into him, it all felt right. But the middle of the song threw him off, the speed picking up for the climax was almost hypmatizing, so much that when he bumped into the mystery girl, her side into his front; both were jolted back into the present. Something that’d been happening a lot that day. Choso was lost in her eyes and expression. Sweet and far off, but her eyes held a thousand stories, a color like gold highlighted by blue flecks; so starkly different from Choso’s own gray ones.

Y/n had been in her own world while she danced, losing herself to the music, oblivious, unaware; uncaring who she collided with. Until she rammed into the sturdy frame that had been pseudo dancing with her. All at once she was struck with many feelings and vibes that oozed off the man. He was familiar to Y/n, but she couldn’t place him. Something about his stoic yet soft expression reeled her further in, the way his eyes bore into her, it suprisingly had her feeling shy. Time stood still between them while the rocous of people around them moved onward. Choso was a master of micro expressions, but his control failed, a smile charming and swave bloomed across his lips while he gazed down at the mystery girl. In response Y/n uncontrollably, awkwardly laughed out, a nervous sound that caught in her throat. Choso found the sound to be too cute, his own laugh leaving him in a roar. Before either one knew it they were both laughing, red in the face, but still oddly swaying to the music.

A bit of time had passed, a few songs at least, they were both sweaty, breathing heavy, and bursts of laughter still came from them. But the entire time neither of them spoke a word, a whole conversation having been had stricktly through body language, expression, sounds of affirmation; it was strangely intimidate, but totally comfortable. It stopped when there was a longer then average pause in the music, whether it be an odd song coming up, or the playlist resetting, a beat passed between Y/n and Choso.

Choso had another moment of charm brake out, leaning down to be eye level with Y/n, his voice was low, “Wanna step outside?” He was pointing towards the balchony while he spoke, small beads of sweat trickled down his brow, Y/n was also sticky from the continuous dancing and later laughing. The quiet didn’t last more then 10 seconds, roaring back to life as Stressed out pumped everyone back up.

Y/n had to shout her reply, “Yeah that’d be nice-” but she didn’t get the sentence out before someone bumped into her, sending her into Choso’s chest once again. However this time he caught her, loose arms wrapping around her own frame.

Another bout of laughing came from Choso, the rumbaling feeling moving into Y/n while she was pressed into his chest. But through the loud of it all, she could feel his heart beat. Calm but hard, like a deep beating drum; she found it soothing. Choso’s grip tightened slightly around Y/n, he began leading them through the living room, but not towards the balchony doors, but to the stairs. Y/n didn’t question it, but kept observant; mostly of the others around them. But he stopped once they rounded the corner, just inside the staircase.

“Sorry about that,” He was rubbing the back of his neck and face of sweat, flustered or nervous Y/n wasn’t sure, the staircase now almost pitch black just behind him. Y/n waved it off.

“Oh don’t worry about it..” But she trailed off, also suddenly uncirten. However Y/n wasn’t allowing another beat or lull to happen. “But what are we doing here?” She quirked her brow, leaning against the wall as she did so. Her question seemed to have remained him of why they were they to begin with.

Choso took a few large steps down before calling back up to her, “Just need my jacket, be right back.” He was again down the stairs and behind the door in seconds flat, but Y/n appreciated the moment of alone, a moment to quickly compose herself. Her heart was pounding against her chest, and she was unnessesarilly hot. The cool wood paneling helping her relax and calm her nerves.

Choso however was met with a strange sight in the basement. Maki and Nobara had disappeared, or left he didn’t care which in that moment. Inumaki and Panda were planted on the floor, one playing a game on the old crt and the other laying on his back zoning out towards the ceiling; Yuji was full passed out, splayed out over the whole couch. Yuta wiggled free at some point and found a spot in the beat up recliner, he too asleep. But the true oddity was Sukana and Megumi, neither were there. Choso took all of it in but immediately put it on the back burner, beelining to his jacket then back to the stairs.

Y/n was still in the stairway, watching the few people who walked by, the sounds of the door suddenly opening and closing called her attention back to the now ready Choso. The two watched a cluster of people move through the hall back into the living room, all the them clutching onto each other, like a school of fish riding the current. Once the hall was clear enough the two left the stairway for the balcony.

Day was gone and night had set in. Without looking Y/n guessed it was around midnight, the air was starkly cooler then the humidity in the house. The balcony was big, double opposite staircases, it didn’t match the rest of the house, but it matched the garden below. The two weren’t alone out there, a few people were sitting on the stairs and some down on the grass, but it was quieter and calmer. Y/n moved to the railing immediately, leaning over to see below, though it was unecessary. Choso found her odd antics endearing, watching her live in her own reality. He didn’t put his jacket on, just layed it over the retailing while digging out his pack of ciggeretts. For a second he glanced to Y/n feeling an underlying insecurity; but she didn’t bat an eye at him. Shockingly she watched him in the queer ritual of lighting a cigarette, snagging when his lighter started to go out, more suprising to Choso was her pointing to he pack in his hands.

“Would you mind if I bum one? I left my purse with my friends and I don’t know where it is.” She was being sheepish, her own similar insecurity, her eyes looked everywhere but Choso, the closest thing being his hand. Choso was taken off guard by that, but thinking about it he wasn’t the only smoker in his circle of friends. He chuckled at her, causing her to reel back, finally making eye contact again. “What?” She questions as a reaction.

He waved a hand, “Nothing.” He passed one to her. “Don’t worry about it.” In that instant so much weight and awkwardness was washed away but such small actions and words. Y/n gave a shy smile in return, but when she tried to light it the lighter was completely dead. She grumbled and cursed under her breath to herself, another quirk that had Choso looking closer, smiling more, something was so familiar; but he just couldn’t place it. It had him leaning in, cigarette between his lips, a quiet “here,” as he gently pressed the cherry of his to her’s, sucssfully lighting the wanted nicotien. Y/n was locked into his grey eye’s. In the night light they looked like a brightly lit moon, glowing against his dark eyelashes and strip tattoo. All the small details of his face were etched into Y/n’s mind in that micro moment. Ending as fast as it began Choso was leaning with is back against the rail staring up at the house, Y/n decided to hoist herself up on the railings edge; sitting beside Choso, but just far enough that she could swing her legs freely.

-

In the house Megumi and Sukana were walking through the house slowly gathering people up, shooing them out of ‘restricted’ rooms, and outright sending them home. Those who were too drunk shared cabs and Ubers. By the time the two met back up in the living room half the party was gone or unconscious.

“No ones left upstairs.” Megumi spoke like he was reporting in from a mission, his own little quirk. “I think everyone else is leaving on their own.” He seemed annoyed by that fact, but it also seemed to be purely surface level. Sukana sighed, the tension he’d felt slowly leaving him.

“Good.” Sukana was dramatic in his body language, he turned around the room, his gaze sweeping over everything, hands firmly on his hips. “Okay, should we get the others up?” He half turned to Megumi to ask his question, somewhere in his head he knew what he wanted but knew he couldn’t just do what he wanted.

Megumi let out his own sigh, “Yeah probably.” Megumi rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair the craving for sleep creeping into his eyes. Sukana clapped a hand on his back, starting to lead him towards the basement.

“Let’s go.” He half mumbled out, but as they walked he continued to scan the rooms, looking for anything out of place or broken. What he wasn’t expecting to see was Choso leaning over a girl that looked like Y/n; but it was too fast, doing a double take showed him no more then his older brothers back. “What the fuck.” He spoke aloud, much louder then he thought, startaling Megumi.

“What?” His brows were knitted together and eyes slanted into a quizzical glare. He darted his gaze around, head turning to see, but he found nothing off. They’d stopped just in the hallway, Sukana was staring at the floor, rationalizing what he maybe just saw.

The fiery twin shook his head, “Nothing, just tired.” He forcefully shrugged it off. “Let’s go.” Again he led them to the basement. Megumi stayed a step behind, looking behind, curious as to what threw Sukana off.

-

Outside while the two relaxed, simply enjoying the night air, they both noticed the party starting to thin out, even the few people outside with them were starting to scurry away. Yet the music played on, the lights stayed dim, both had long been done smoking, just sharing idle conversation.

“Do you go to the art school?” Choso was facing the opposite way now, leaning over the railing, eyes lazalie sweeping over the garden. Y/n nodded first, half glancing behind her before hoping off the railing.

“Yeah I do. Moved here for the school, among other reasons.” She was a little vege but Choso didn’t push. “I mostly work with paint, but I’ve been studying dance too.” She was gazing up towards the sky as she spoke, something in her eyes was hopeful.

Choso smiled, his eyes soft, “That’s cool, are you entering the scolorship contest?” Absentmindedly Choso reminded himself of a current stresser. “It’s gonna be starting soon.” He was forcing back a grumble, frustratingly nervous about the whole debockle. Y/n shook her head while leaning a bit closer, baring her weight on one foot.

“Nah, not my kinda thing, despite the opportunity, I don’t do well under pressure like that.” She admitted, more to herself then to the man next to her. It had Choso letting out a laugh.

“I feel that.” His smile was bright and genuine. “It really is a bitch, but-“ He cut himself off to mull it over in his head, “It’s fun somehow.” Y/n turned her eyes to him while he spoke, seeing the sine that came from his random enegery. It was like he was convincing himself and well as Y/n.

Then the information sank in, “Oh- You’re in the contest? What’er you studying?” A part of her was excited that she might get to see him again after that night.

“Yeah I am. But I don’t actually go to the school. I take elective classes, kinda. There weird but I enjoy it. Figured the scolorship would help out with my work.” Choso felt like he hadn’t talked this much in months, his voice was starting to feel rough, but he felt so comfortable and welcomed, he found himself furthering the conversation far more then he normally would. Y/n was growing more fascinated as they continued, the more she learned the more she wanted to learn.

“What do you do for work? Tattoo artist?” She questioned half joking, her big smiling eluding to the fact, but the silence that came from Choso told her she was right. A uncontrollable laugh spouted from her. “Wait really? I was just guessing.” She was beaming, “That’s awesome.” Choso gladly returned the smile and laugh.

“Yeah I am.” He spoke through the end of his laugh. “I own my own shop.” Y/n was stunned by that.

“Really? But-“ She stuttered to find her words. “You’re so young.” It was a fact, but it was suprising to Y/n nonetheless. “That’s amazing.” She said finally, her astoninship shown clear in her complamint. Choso was surprised by her reaction, expecting the usual unsatisfied or disinterested comment.

“Thank you. But I’m not that young, unless you wanna say 27 is younger then whatever the average is.” He was sporting a cocky almost smug expression, fully swear he was able to again his dream sooner then most. Y/n lightly nudged her arm against his.

“Whatever, gonna act like thats not impressive. Psht.” An unserious scoff was her final rebuttal. Choso just shook his head half heartedly. A final lull washed over them but it felt okay, natural. Behind them the party was about over, but music still played though muffled. A covered song, Dammit (After Dark) began to play, one both of them knew; unknowingly between the two of them both had voted for it to be played near the start of the party. The intro had them swaying slowly as they stood. When they glanced at each other another small laugh came from it.

“Would you like to dance?” The words surprised Choso as he spoke them, but no part of him questioned it, leaning into the feeling, taking that first step closer. Quietly Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, suddenly not feeling the cold of the air.

“I would.” Slipped from her as she stepped closer, barely touching his chest. the song grew quiet, he wrapped his arms around her again, holding her completely against himself. When the final couros came on the two stayed moving at thier own slower speed, finding solace in this unique moment. Neither heard the song change, just knew it was slower, totally lost in the sight of the other, not realizing they were closing the small gap between them. Choso was leaning down before he could think about it, his hands gliding up her fram to hold her face, guiding her into a kiss. She followed his movements eagerly, following but allowing to be led, until thier lips were connected.

The kiss started soft, tentative. His were slightly chapped, his face cold. Her whole being was on fire, warm and so welcoming. The tenderness of it was a surprise, but that quickly melted into something more passionate. To deepen the kiss Choso leaned further in, one hand leaving her delicate cheek, smoothly drifting down her neck and top her back, stopping at the small of her back. He fiddled with the hem of her shirt and shorts, dipping under the fabric with just the tips. Y/n let her hands roam up his chest over his shoulders and into his long black hair; pulling him closer as she went, though she was still having to stand on her toes to fully deepen the kiss. Hesitantly Choso slid his hand lower, asking for permission to continue, her reply was swiping her young between his lips. He cupped her ass and pulled her closer, dropping his other hand to her hip her held her from to him. Both explored each others mouths, Y/n letting a moan slip between them when she felt his tongue piercing against the flat of her tongue. The sweet moan that came from Y/n had Choso groping her ass a little harder, his other hand dipping under her shirt, splaying out over her ribs. His hands were cold, so cold Y/n gasped, a shrill sound but one of pleasure.

However the moment was cut short there, the small second of separation had both of their eyes open, and out of their peripheral they both saw someone. Y/n snapped her head to the side first, squinting at the glass door, Choso followed suit, but when they both looked, no one and nothing was there. Y/n even blinked a few a times, trying to reset the image in her brain, whereas Choso just focused through the glass, a small thought that maybe it was one of the guys, but he couldn’t be sure. Both were now catching their breath, Y/n’s whole face was tinted pink, Choso’s black strip was highlighted by the blush of his cheeks.

Neither knew what to say, but neither of them wanted the situation to turn awkward, both ending up saying in unison, “I’m sorry.” Earning a giggle from Y/n and and chuckle from Choso.

“Don’t sweat it.” Choso tried to seem cool and collected but his smile and glowing eyes said otherwise. “I mean it was forward of me.” He was struck with a ping of concern, not wanting to come off as that guy who can’t take a hint. But Y/n surprised him again.

“Maybe a little but I wanted it too.” Y/n was still in his arms, something Choso wasn’t thinking about, not until she affirmed the mutual desire. It had a relief filled smile take over Choso. “Though…” Y/n spoke then paused, wondering if the man holding her was having the same realization; but looking up at him told her he was clueless, in fact he seemed worried. He let go of her but only took a small step back, no longer caging her against himself. Y/n rushed to answer, “Well it’s just that,” she paused to motion between them, “We, or at least I don’t know your name.” She was bashful about it, a feeling embaressed that she never asked. But Choso was hit with the realization in that moment, a silent ‘oh’ left him, but was clear in his expression.

“We don’t do we. Ha.” He was speechless, not sure what to say. However Y/n knew what was on her mind.

“What’s odd to me is this weird feeling,” she again gestured to Choso, more in his general direction, “About you, like I know you or something.” Her eyes were squinted, as if inspecting him. “But I don’t think we’ve met before…Have we?”

Choso shook his head. “No I don’t think so.” He ducked his head and dropped his eyes, “But I know what you mean. Since I saw you in the living room I thought I recognized you.” He admitted, something about the candor of this conversation was opening both of them up.

“Thought?” She asked in return, though she wasn’t truly expecting an answer.

“Well- Like the feeling is still there-“ Choso cut himself off, looking closer at Y/n’s face. “I don’t know but I think it’s your eyes.” Y/n absentmindedly opened her eye’s wider. “They seem so familiar to me.” That charming smile returned, he couldn’t help but wiggle a complement in, “Or maybe they’re just that unique.” He was almost smug about it. Y/n scoffed.

“Whatever. “ She very jokingly shoved at his chest. “Smooth.” But she still couldn’t help the smile or rush of blood from her face. “Seriously though. It’s a little odd, right?” She swayed where she stood, “Kinda like dejavu but not exactly that.” Choso nodded along.

“Yeah I get it.” He let out a coy chuckle to himself, “Maybe we have somebody incommon.” He wasn’t being serious, a part of Y/n knew that, but it made something click in her brain.

“What if we do?” She said as if it was the missing number in a calculation. Choso was skeptical.

“Yeah but what are the odds?” He exaggerated his expression of disbelief. “Like didn’t you just move here?” He looked around to emphasize his point. “Not trying to sound like a dick here, but how many people could you know yet?” It was then, Choso’s words triggered something in their brains. Both looked each other dead in the face, then their eyes darted to the house, then back to each other.

“Holy shit.” Y/n was more than shocked, her eyes were wide, but suddenly so many things made sense. Choso was equally if not more stunned.

“Oh…” He’d taken another step back, one hand on his hip and the other nervously pawing at the pack of his head. Y/n had her hands cupped over her face, the only thing visible was her wide eyes. But a part of Y/n was also relentless, needing solid proof she said one thing.

“Choso?” Though his name came out as a question, and the situation did not call for it, it had a shiver run up his spine.

“Y/n.” Was his answer, though he couldn’t look at her, fearing he might implode from embarrassment alone. It was all that she need for confirmation.

She nearly threw her hands to her hips, eyes boring into the concrete, “This is awkward.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it directed at Choso, but the simple fact stated aloud allowed both of them of let out a sigh of half relief. “Well…”

“Yeah…” Choso was had turned a full 180 and was facing the house. “I-um… I’m sorry about this.” He glanced to Y/n who was also looking at the house. She turned to him when he apologized.

“No. Don’t be, I mean we didn’t know. But I-I get it, I’m sorry too. Sorry it’s awkward at least.” She admitted the last thought, unsure of how she feels. “But what, what’er we supposed to do about..” Y/n gestured with her head towards the house, “With them.” Choso let out a fast forced breath, internally he wanted to explode.

“I don’t know. Do we say something? Keep it to ourselves? I don’t know.” Choso listed the options the two had, but none of them made the two feel any kind of ease. He rolled his head back and let his arms drop to his sides. “Do we even have to say anything?” He said somewhat defied.

“It’s not not an option…Right?” Y/n was rationalizing, but she still gave voice to the idea. Choso looked towards Y/n.

“Seriously?” Y/n nodded in response. “Well, yeah, that’s not- it wouldn’t be lying, not technically.” Even he didn’t believe what he was saying. Y/n nodded again.

“We just bumped into each other.” Y/n had her hands out and was again facing Choso. “We just started talking and introduced ourselves?” Choso was now the one nodding.

“Yeah, and now…” He ducked down a bit to get a better look through the glass door. “We’re just meeting back up with them?” He stood up, his brows upward in that, it’s a vegue explanation but not unbelievable way. Y/n was almost mimicking his expression.

“Yeah. Okay. Well, we should probably go in.” She took the few steps towards the door but stopped short, looking back and waiting for him. He snapped to it, swiping his jacket again then he was behind her in three steps. With a deep breath both went through the door and almost bolted for the stairs to the basement. Neither one paying any mind to the now virtually empty house, or the fact that the music had stopped long ago. They stopped just shy of the door, the dark staircase nearly completely concealing them both, neither could make out the others face. But both let out a breath, calming themselves the best they could before walking into the basement.

Whatever they were expecting was not what they walked into. The basement was essentially empty, Yuta, who was just starting to walk up, was still in the recliner. Sukana was sitting at the bar, facing away from Megumi who was behind the bar. The enegery of the room was weird. Their entrance just added to it. Sukana sipped around to face them, his face in a scowl. No one had to guess what he was thinking.

“Where have you been?” It was more a command then a question, and it wasn’t clear who exactly he was asking. But neither of them got to answer, “I don’t care. It’s late.” He wasn’t making the best sense for being the only totally sober one, but the three assumed he was just barking out his thoughts. Y/n saw the oppratunity to jump in.

“I still don’t know where my room is.” It was ment to be a question but it was more a statement left in the air. Choso snapped his attention to Y/n.

“Your room?” He did question.

She nodded in the affirtive. “Yeah my new place is being fumigated, I’m stayin here for the week.” She said it as if she’d simply forgot to mention it. Choso was the one failing at hiding his surprise. But he nodded as if he just didn’t hear the first time.

“Makes sense.” He said with a shrug. Sukana interrupted the small conversation, grabbing Y/n’s hand to place a set of keys in her palm.

“Come on. I’ll show you.” He began to walk away knowing Y/n would be just behind him. And she was, but she did stop.

Not fully turned around she looked at Choso, “It was nice meeting you, Choso.” A soft smile and small wave and she was gone up the stairs with Sukana. A barely audible “You too.” Left Choso, but it was for only him to hear. Now it was only Himself, Yuta and Megumi in the basement. Feeling maybe a bit to comfortable he let out a deep long sigh before flopping on the empty couch.

Yuta, now fully awake, was leaning on his knees, a hand rubbing at his eyes. “What happened?” It was a question, but it was perpousfully vegue. Choso just scrunched his nose, propping his head up on his hands, eyes barely open despite being wide awake.

“Nothing. Just a long night.” It came out far more defensive then he wanted. From the bar Megumi scoffed loudly.

“Bullshit. You walked in here like you had a rod for a spine.” Megumi knew better, so did Yuta. “What did you do?”

“Did you hit on her?” Yuta asked, needlessly leaning closer to ask his smug question. Megumi moved to stand behind the couch, looking down at Choso.

He groaned out, flustered, dropping his head face first into the learther. He didn’t know how to answer, knew these two would see through him immidatlly. They took his actions as a half answer in the affirmative.

“So what did happen?” Megumi asked, baring his weight on the back of the couch. Yuta leaned in again, percosionary to hear better what Choso might say.

“It’s not- It wasn’t- I don’t want to talk about this.” Choso was having an argument with himself by that point, a losing one. “Just…flirting. Okay? It was awkward and I just want to forget it.” It was his way of telling them to drop it. Yuta and Megumi shared a look, acknowledging the weird vibes their elder was giving off, his vegue defensive answers. They knew something was up.

-

Sukana gave the quietest house tour ever, walking Y/n through the house, in and out of the living room and back down a hallway she didn’t know was there, to a short staircase leading up to a three door hallway. Sukana opened the one closet to the stairs, a fairly big room on the other side that was modestly furnished. A twin bed and a small desk with matching nightstand, Y/n’s bags were on the bed. Y/n turned to thank Sukana but he cut her off.

“Did something happen?” He was stoic and serious, his eyes anylitcal. He stood in the doorway, unmoving like a wall. Internally Y/n screamed and panicked, but she held her composure.

“What? Nothing happened? What are you talking about?” SHe played the confused cared, fanning the idea that he could be talking about anything that happened that night. But he wasn’t havin it.

“I dont really believe that.” His words cut through like a hot knife. “I know him and I know you.” He spoke in facts, but Y/n was gonna deny till she was blue in the face.

“What are you on about? Seriously, nothing happened.” Y/n leaning against the doorframe in the hopes it would make her words seem more genuine. Sukana shook his head.

“I know what he’s like, people fall for him left and right. And its not like your looks are a secret-“ Sukana cut himself off quicker then a match could’ve been lit. Y/n gave him a coy look.

A cocky smile gracing her face. “My looks? Aww, thank you, Kana.” Using this as the perfect moment to slip his nickname in. And like she expected he clammed up.

“Don’t, that’s not what I ment.” His tone turned whiny, shoulders dropping. “Whatever, just- I’m leaving.” Sukana quickly turned to leave was almost down the stairs.

“Night Sukana.” Y/n called to him from the doorway.

“Night.”

Y/n was now alone in her tempoery bedroom, in a rush of excitement layed in exhaustion she crashed onto the small bed, eyes gazing out one of the windows. She couldn’t help but replay the night in her mind, analyzing every decision she’d made, everything that led her to that moment. The only conclusion she could make was that she was excited for the next day.

[aleheartilly]

❄️🌤️

Thank you for the ask!

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

I chose The Winter Rose for this one, because I so wish to have feedback on that story and I am so unsure about it! This excerpt comes from the next chapter, soon to be published.

Squall turned to look at her. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her eyes were fixed on her plate. She looked almost… dejected? "I am sorry, Your Highness. I need to deal with the fallout of the Esquire's disappearance." The Princess nodded, raising her eyes. "I understand, Sir. Please don't feel the need to apologize for your duties." She sighed, squeezing her ring again. "I… Can I suggest something?" Squall narrowed his eyes at her. Her demeanor had completely changed when the name of Baron Almasy had been mentioned. "If you think it could help," he said, cringing a little at the bluntness of his words. "Baron Almasy seemed particularly interested in Sorceresses and the legends surrounding them and their Knights, Sir," she started, choosing her words carefully. For some reason he couldn't pinpoint, Squall thought she was giving him only the information she deemed absolutely necessary. It felt slightly disturbing. The Princess rose to her feet, needlessly brushing her dress on her stomach. "It may be wise to consider that the only living Sorceresses without a Knight are me and Sorceress Ultimecia, the Mistress of Time and Space. And it's safe to say I am… unavailable, for the kind of dreams Baron Almasy wants to achieve." Squall looked at her through narrowed eyes, feeling his jaw settle into a hard clench. "What kind of dreams exactly, Your Highness?" "It is not my place to tell, Sir Leonhart," she murmured, coming closer to him. "But please, be careful." "I… see," said Squall, trying to relax his hands, as he had involuntarily clenched them into tight, almost painful fists. Her unwillingness to be clearer was grating on his nerves. There was a problem; he needed to solve it; she was stalling him with partial information she had however deemed useful enough to share; and he didn't know enough about Baron Almasy to understand his motives without her help. Knowing she had spent time with the Baron, just as much as she was forced to spend it with him, was making him curious about her motives, though; and what kind of dreams was she talking about? What was exactly the unavailability she had mentioned? And asking him to be careful? She knew his strength. He had managed to defeat her in a fair duel. She was the Mistress of Pure Magic, and he was the only true match for the incredible raw power she mastered. "Fear not for me, Your Highness," he said, with such a sharp edge to his voice that she raised her eyes. "I am the one true match for one of the most powerful magic in this world, am I not?" She gave him a smile - slow, melancholy, with an edge to it that was part tender, and part extremely ragged, fragile. "You are, Sir Leonhart," she said, nodding. That smile was even more disturbing than their entire exchange was. "I beg your pardon, Your Highness. My duties cannot wait further." She nodded again, and he exited the room, closing the door behind him. Only outside he felt finally able to breathe again.

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

This is from Love can. That's the story I badly summarized in a previous game as "an unusual vehicle get explained in great detail", and the unusual vehicle is... Squall. In this story, he gets to tell Rinoa what he told her when she was unconscious. I'm so happy I get to share part of this story with you, because that scene in Fifteen minutes old of Squall&Rinoa on FH bridge stayed with me all these years, and this story is about my interpretation of something similar. Since in another story Squall will share a dialogue with Zone, I thought it would be nice to give him a dialogue with Watts in this one. So here it is.

When he gets off the train, there’s a young man leaning against the stairs’ railing, waiting for him. “Commander, sir, welcome back to Timber,” says Watts, when he notices him. “Thank you, Watts,” he says, nodding. “Did you manage to get it?” “Of course, sir, ready when you are.” He raises his hand, letting some keys dangle from his fingers. “You can keep it until tomorrow evening, sir. You’ll find it near the city’s gate. It’s the blue one on the left.” Squall takes the keys and stuffs them into his pocket, nodding his thanks. There’s a moment of awkward silence, and he sighs, not really knowing how to break it. It’s Watts who breaks it first. “She… she is really happy, you know? Been talking about today all week, sir.” Squall’s breath catches in his lungs, and he raises his eyes to look into Watts’. “She did?” “Yeah, and Zone has had his stomach in knots for her. We… truly love her, sir. She’s our little sister.” Squall nods, unsure of what to do with this. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he lets his duffel bag slide from his shoulder and starts rummaging through it. “Here,” he says, holding out a six-pack of potions for Watts to take. “Dr. Kadowaki said they should work on Zone’s stomach aches. She’s not sure until she examines him, but… It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” Watts is speechless, watching with wide eyes the unexpected gift from the usually stern Commander. He and Zone often thought Squall considered them a couple of cowards who let the entire rebellion operations into the hands of a girl younger than them, and they were honestly convinced they had no redeeming qualities in the SeeD’s eyes. Apparently, they were wrong. “Sir?” he manages to croak out, taking the pack of potions with trembling hands. “I had… there was something… I’m not good with this kind of thing,” says Squall, dragging a hand down his face. He would like to think he’s just tired, too overwhelmed with work, too overwhelmed with feelings he is going to fully acknowledge in a few hours. Still, if there’s something Rinoa taught him, it’s that people can’t read his mind, and maybe sometimes gestures are ok but words are better. “What I want to say is that I promised I would take care of Rinoa, back when we had to flee Timber. And after that… I never really tried to find out what happened to you two. I guess-” He falls silent, passing a hand through his hair. “You said you would be fine, and it was easier to believe you would.” “There was nothing wrong with that, sir,” says Watts, softly. “But I saw Zone doubling over in pain just before boarding that train, and…” He makes a gesture with his hand, and to a casual onlooker it may seem he is dismissing the entire situation, but Watts is watching him carefully, and he begins to understand what Rinoa means when she says everything about the Commander is in his eyes. “And then, when we met again, I had let Rinoa get hurt.” His head is hanging low, and some unruly bangs of his hair are shielding his gaze, but Watts can feel the self-deprecation. He recognizes it, because he feels it so often himself. “But then you saved her,” he rebuts with unexpected firmness. “And you make her happy now. That’s all me and Zone want.” “I just want to apologize, I guess.” “Apologies not needed, but accepted if it makes you feel better.” Squall gives him a small, sheepish smile. “Just let me know if they work, ok?” he says, gesturing vaguely towards the six-pack Watts is holding like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Of course, sir,” nods Watts with a similar smile. “You let me know if that works, ok?”

If you want to send an ask too, here are the prompts!

[byneddiedingo]

Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003)

Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Bill Murray, Giovanni Ribisi, Anna Faris, Fumihiro Hayashi, Catherine Lambert. Screenplay: Sofia Coppola. Cinematography: Lance Acord. Art direction: Mayumi Tomita. Film editing: Sarah Flack. Music: Kevin Shields.

Lost in Translation won Sofia Coppola an Oscar for best original screenplay and a nomination for best director, along with nominations for best picture and for Bill Murray as best actor. But I have to admit that it left me cold when I first saw it, and my opinion of it has warmed only somewhat since then. I grant its originality of concept and its effective use of Murray and co-star Scarlett Johansson, who was only 18 when the film was made, a major step in her career as a film actress. Murray and Johansson have a fine chemistry together that stops short of inducing the queasiness that might result from their age difference. Coppola effectively portrays the melancholy of these Americans lost in a lively, vibrant culture they can only glimpse superficially. But I can also sympathize with the Japanese critics who found its depiction of the people of Japan to be little short of caricature. I felt this most strongly in the scene, early in the film, in which someone sends a prostitute to the hotel room of Murray's character, and she demands that he "lip" her stockings. Much supposed hilarity ensues from the stereotype of the Japanese confusion of "l" and "r," which was funny when the Monty Python troupe performed "Erizabeth L," with such characters as "Sil Wartel Lareigh," but I think it falls flat here. Otherwise, Coppola evokes the experience most of us have felt in a country where we don't speak the language. Murray plays a film star, Bob Harris, in Tokyo to shoot a Suntory whiskey commercial with a Japanese director who gives complicated instructions that are reduced by a translator to little more than "turn and look at the camera." A New York Times article after the film opened revealed what the director is actually saying, but Coppola chose not to provide subtitles, leaving the non-Japanese-speaking audience as much in the dark as Bob Harris -- and in fact Bill Murray himself -- was. Coppola also subtly suggests what her characters might be feeling, without spelling it out for us, as when Charlotte (Johansson), who has been left on her own in Japan while her photographer husband (Giovanni Ribisi) travels about, visits a Buddhist temple in Kyoto where a wedding is taking place. But Coppola's lapses in control of the film's tone, as in the scene with the prostitute, are sometimes needlessly jarring.

[victoriadallonfan]

um, so, first of all, I want to say that in general, I really really love reading your thoughts and essays on wildbow's writing, especially the parahumans series. It's genuinely enlightening and interesting a lot of the time.

However, I've noticed this kind of pattern where you see someone making a meta-textual argument ("doyalist" reasoning, commentary on the story in the context that it is a work of fiction), and you respond, or attempt to dispute the argument with a textual argument ("watsonian" explanation, talking about the story as events that happened, without the context that the story is fictional).... which ends up not actually addressing the metatextual point?

It's like, ok, one example would be something like magneto: there's an argument that the X-men stories are loosely inspired by the civil rights movement, with Professor X and Magneto being archetypically "moderate" and "extreme". This presents a significant issue when Magneto is depicted as unreasonable, needlessly violent, and antagonist, as, deliberate or not, this sends a negative message about figures perceived as more extreme (with Malcolm X being the most common example).

The is a meta-textual argument.

A meta-textual counter-argument might be "there are other characters in the X men universe who are 'extremists' but who are portrayed relatively positively, and additionally, the fact that (the hero) Prof X's name is similar to Malcolm X indicates the creators might have felt more generous to Malcolm X and similar people than the idea suggests".

However, a textual counter argument would be to ignore the real world connections and context of the original X-men context, and simply double down on talking about how much a villain Magneto is.... which is irrelevant. It doesn't actually address what the original argument is talking about.

melancholy-jouissance was talking about Tristan as an example. He acts in a shitty way towards Byron, crosses Byron's boundaries, and crimes are motivated by a desire for sex and romance.

What's worse is that there's a stereotype (both in fiction and in the public consciousness) of gay people being more sex-motivated and sexual than straight people are. Depicting Tristan as being more sexual, and more sexually motivated than his identical twin brother plays into this stereotype in an extremely damaging way.

Deliberately or not, it sends a bad message, and is a bad representation of gay men.

(on top of this, separate from the representation thing, it's just extremely unpleasant to read as a bisexual person)

However, instead of addressing any of this, your response was to point out, with a sequence of excerpts, what Tristan did wrong, as if he was a real person on trial?

Which, is like, those are well researched, well formatted points, but you aren't actually engaging with the argument being presented to you.

If anything, bringing up these other things that Tristan did wrong kind of proves melancholy's point... doesn't it?

I don't know. I do enjoy reading your ideas and analysis, and this ask isn't meant to be calling you out or anything like that, but I do think that there's a lot here (and in similar debates) that you're missing.

Let me counter argue this in your Magneto way:

Let’s say’s that there is a panel where Magneto is on trial for trying to murder a human. And the human is saying he needs to face justice for his attempted murder. A tumblr post says, “Wow, I can’t believe Marvel thinks that Magneto was wrong for fighting back against his oppressors!”

Now, let’s say that the panel was cut out of a larger strip* and we see that he was actually going to murder another mutant before the human pushed the both of them to safety (the mutant does not know he saved his life). And we learn that said mutant was and is prominent Mutant Rights activist, who was targeted by Magneto for associating with human allies pushing for their cause.

The panel is taken out of context of a particular scene so that Marvel is made to be promoting something that isn’t true. The reality is that Magneto is framed as wrong because he was being a murderous asshole, not for wanting mutant rights.

There is a BIG difference between “Hey, Wildbow is ignorant on tropes and needs to be more world weary before tackling such heavy topics” and “Wildbow is a massive homophobe and the text clearly points to him hating people who want gay sex!”

I agree with the former, but the latter is just dramatization and dishonest to be blunt.

[lmelodie]

Two of a Kind

The spirit of the blorbos have given me this little idea about Blaise and the twins. Blaise angst? In MY drafts?? It’s more likely than you think! The characters I stole, YOINKED straight from @safyresky​. They’re MY blorbos now! This is just a very very small thought process I wanted to get on paper. Only 1.2k works so ya’ll also get accompanying art. 

Enjoy the adventures of the not-so-new parents!

He’s pulled up the recliner from the corner of the room and placed it between the two bassinets. He sits in it but doesn't relax, sitting on the very edge of the chair with his elbows on his knees and his chin under his hands. Stiff with tension yet sagged from sleeplessness.

He got up forty minutes ago when the babies were getting fussy, dragged out of bed in the middle of the night in nothing but his pajama bottoms. And he managed to put them back to sleep nearly fifteen minutes ago now, but he couldn't seem to unglue himself from the spot he’s made between them. Can't fathom ripping his attention away from his two youngest children. Precious. Beautiful. Not a spark on either of their heads yet, nearly a month old now. 

Blaise merely looks at them. His expression is needlessly hard and his eyebrows are furrowed with deep thought. So small. Tiny, fragile things they are. His heart beats slowly yet thunderously in his chest as he watches the infants sleep. He watches, not worried about anything happening to them, but marveling at the strange ways in which the fates work. How the times repeat themselves.

Fino and Fiera Frost. Who will they become, what great things will they achieve in their lifetimes. His beautiful twin flames.

Twin flames. 

He doesn't want to dwell on it. He thought he’s moved past this by now. The only brother he’s ever known, the only family he had left for a time. Their childhood was hard and scathing. Boundaries required pushing to be great, he wanted to be great. He wanted to be great with him. The trouble they would get into, the schemes that they planned to get away with it. The laughter. The jovial kind, the one from when they were still very young. 

When they were still small, and fragile. 

He tightly sews his eyes shut at the thought, pained and exhausted, trying to steer the ship out of the choppy waters it's starting to find itself in. He tries not to think about it. He tries very hard. And now he tries even harder for their sake. He can't let his own experiences filter the one they will have. It's hard not to compare with circumstances like these, but he tries forcing the thoughts away as best he can.

Suddenly the gentle creaking of the nursery door behind him stirs him from his thunderstorm. 

“Blaise?” Winter whispers from the open doorway. She too is adorned with eye bags and a tired posture.

“Winter?” he twists in his seat to face her, “Your supposed to be resting. I told you I got this one.”

“It’s been a minute. I thought you said you were coming back to bed?”

Winter slowly and carefully walks over to where her husband is sitting, dragging the hem of her nightgown behind her. She comes up next to the chair to stand beside him, placing two gentle hands on both of his bare shoulders. 

“Have I been away for that long?” he asks.

“Nearly forty five minutes. Have they been giving you trouble?” 

His posture slightly melts at the soft crooning of her touch, letting out a quiet sigh, “Not anymore than usual. They went back to sleep rather fast this time.”

“Then why are you still up here?” she asked, doused with concern.

When he eventually leans back into the recliner, she comes closer and sits on the arm of the chair, laying the side of her head on top of his own. It's warm, but not hot. She can tell something is wrong. Nothing more than a tick in the well of his usual enthusiasm, but something that is glaringly obvious to Winter. She feels his hand slide up to be placed on top of her own.

“Twins Winter…” he whispers with a knowing melancholy. 

“I know,” she softly responds, “They're wonderful, bright little things. They get that from you ya know.”

Blaise faintly smiles at her remark, “I just hope it's not the only thing they get from me.”

He takes a long poignant pause, his patched breathing letting Winter know that he’s trying to find the words to say something important. She doesn't interject, only letting him gather his thoughts.

“Winter they deserve the world. Twin flames, love. I used to be one of those. I cant...I don't, I - I just want this time to be different. They deserve to have that kind of bond with each other. The kind that I had once but couldn't seem to keep…”

“And they will,” she lifts her head off of her husband to look him in the eyes, “We will make it happen. We will be giving them all the right things for them to succeed. We won't be perfect, never have been, but we will try our best. And you know what I always say about trying one's best.”

She cradles the sides of his face in both of her hands, watching the gears turning  behind his eyes. He looks worried, his face creasing in a somber form. He closes his eyes as he feels a cool thumb run over one of his cheeks.

"Darling you shouldn't worry. This time will be different."

Gently placing his hands to rest on top of hers, her touch further undoing the stress he's done himself up in.

“The cycle ends…” he finally says.

“The cycle ends,” she echos, “We’ve done a decent enough job so far. Jacqueline is turning out to be a fine girl. A regular firecracker.”

He smiles fondly, “An arctic storm in the making that one.”

“And they will be just the same,” she says, glancing over to the sleeping babies, “They will be just fine, Blaise dear. We will be fine.”

Blaise follows her line of sight to the children, peacefully sleeping away in the cots they will one day outgrow. Surrounded by the walls of a home full of unconditional love and support. With parents looking after them that will do anything for them. They’re already far better off than he was. They will be just fine.

“We will be fine,” he repeats, turning his head into one of her palms to chastely kiss, “What would I ever do without you?” 

“Probably get even less sleep somehow,” she softly chuckles “Come on now, the bed needs to be warmed back up.”

Blaise pulls a slightly goofy grin at the comment and picks himself up from the recliner. The unexpectedly loud squeaking of the hinges catch both parents off guard and realize that their children are stirring. They both stop dead in their tracks, heart rates spiking to the ceiling and fear painted on their faces to see if the twins would stay asleep. 

The infants softly coo and shift on their backs, but after a moment of this disturbance, they both drifted back off.

Blaise and Winter both let out a weighted sigh with relief, the tiredness returning to their slumped shoulders. They leave the room as quietly as they can muster and robotically shut the door behind them, on their way to getting a wink of sleep themselves tonight. Now significantly less burdened. 

[felagund-fiollaigean]

If you had to live in any fantasy world from a book/film/series, like actually had to live there (any point pre-, post- or during cannon allowed, there's a lot of wars) where would you pick and why?

Have a wonderful day!🦀

(can i just pick the shire pre-saruman? is that allowed? not the rest of middle earth, just the shire? lol)

this is a hard question cause most fantasy worlds i know of exist the way they are because Something Terrible Happened There and most of the plot revolves around the characters Fighting Terrible Things Happening There so it's hard to say. there's also the fact that different worlds invoke different feelings to a passive observer or passer-through but I think actually living there full time would totally ruin the vibe. Like, the world of botw is gorgeous and tranquil and a little bit melancholy, but I think living there would feel pretty lonely, not to mention you can barely move from town to town without getting your ass kicked by bokoblins. living there as Link, a nigh-untouchable wanderer with a found-family of cute horses and a small armory I effortlessly carry cross-country, would be a totally different experience, but Link has so many of his own issues going on would I really want that? would I????? And i know you said pre-or-post canon are acceptable options but pre-canon botw means nothing to me. I've never been there. it's just A Place and I have no emotional connection to it so I don't really care??

This is a needlessly complicated answer to a very straightforward question.

Roshar would be fun pre-apocalypse if I could bond with a little magical creature that gives me superpowers but I would literally cry if I had to wear a glove 24/7 and never eat curry even though it's RIGHT THERE.

okay wait i totally forgot about the only natural answer. I wanna be a nymph or something who lives in narnia. that's all. i've found it. or maybe a talking bird or fox or cat. or mermaid.

anyway how about you??

[kbrecycling-blog]

Landslide

I had a professor in college that, one morning at the beginning of class, told us she was feeling particularly sad that day. It was a Holocaust literature course, so I assumed it was a burden of the job–perhaps our impending discussion of The Key Game or whatever that day’s selection was–but her reason was that “it was the anniversary of a death” for her.

I was nineteen. I was probably wearing 4-inch brown chunky-heeled Steve Madden loafers and taking notes with my favorite black Bic pen that gave me the triangular indent in the left meat of my index finger. I was young—still a sophomore. I hadn’t yet known the feeling of time ticking away on something I loved so much that anytime I was too happy—too in love with the path to the library with the lush green trees and over-friendly black squirrels, too in love with the feeling of walking home on a Friday afternoon not knowing what the night would bring (no cell phones yet to text or Snap), but knowing I’d arrive to my gathered friends and half-made plans and maybe a six-pack of Woodchuck Hard cider (™)—that happiness could give way to a twinge of melancholy. 

Don’t get me wrong–I was an English major after all (and for a time, a poetry-writing major)--and I knew all about The Bell Jar and Mrs. Dalloway (got an A in my Virginia Woolf course obvs) and that feeling—that thick, familiar heaviness that settles on you from above too early and too often and, to the confusion of most, too adamantly, needlessly. Maybe it causes you to mourn for something you haven’t yet lost. Maybe it’s different for everyone. Either way, I knew what my professor meant. That’s probably why her words have stuck with me all these years.

And I’ve been feeling it lately. It’s not something that I like to talk about…or write about. It’s not funny or clever or maybe even relatable. It doesn’t make me a better mom or wife. I worry it makes me a worse one. I feel the passing of time and how quickly our roles and self-concepts change. How completely we can shield our kids from the flaws in our world and in ourselves until we can’t. Until we shouldn’t. I feel daunted, not knowing where to put all of this emotion. In mourning what will never be again and what still is but one day won’t, I worry about missing the present.

Virginia Woolf took my breath away with her ability to write feelings. I used to have quotes that spoke to me written on Post-it notes across the face of my beige Macintosh Performa throughout college. She had a perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone…” Sometimes I feel alone even when I’m surrounded by sounds (clubs whacking golf balls, baseballs thrown off the wall, Scherzer barking incessantly at his own reflection in the window); sometimes I feel alone even when I’m surrounded by so much love. Even today, on Mother’s Day, when I reflect on all that I have to be thankful for, there’s a part of me that’s still in Evanston, probably on a walk with Chris and Deuce, catching glimpses through windows of families sitting at tables celebrating what I was so desperate for that my feet stumble beneath me. There’s a part of me that is my friends with children about to graduate from high school, feeling the coming change like the sharpest pain. And of course there’s a part of me that’s still the nineteen year old, still the same rough winds, the wild passion (another Post-it quote I had, this one with my unfortunate misspelling of “Sophocles” inked underneath for my…many…dorm room visitors to witness), that can’t imagine herself, like my professor so many years ago, carrying around loss like a mood.

And so…I try. I try to be empathetic to all of the mes. I try to be mindful that the sometimes-burden of so many feelings isn’t Bo’s or Chris’s to bear. I try to remember that everyone–everyone–around us carries something with them, especially on a day like today. My professor talked a lot that semester about her tremendous losses. I try to remind myself that, though as we get older we may accumulate sadness, we also accumulate so much more. I can’t forget to allow my accumulated joy to lighten the heaviness. To dissipate the cloud. To, as non-English-major Chris would say, avoid focusing on the wrong side of the balance sheet.

I would not have been into him in college.

[iron-hearts-ablaze]

Gale stood pensively by the opening of his tent before entering. They had drawn near the end of their journey through the Mountain Pass, and many had assumed the wizard to be naught but characteristically fatigued. When greeted, he simply stated he wished to be alone with his thoughts.

Yet, when evening had long since arrived and the time for supper had passed its usual time, Gale finally emerged properly from his tent. He appeared less forlorn than before, but there was still no joy on his features. A heavy weight clearly still rested on his mind.

It wasn't until he spoke properly to Karlach that it was revealed that it was nothing but a mirror image of the wizard.

"I apologize for the deception; I was merely a distraction to give Mr. Dekarios enough time to render a significant distance between him and everyone else prior to the orb's detonation. He wished for me to regretfully pass on the message that he found he was no longer able to quell the orb with the magical items that you have graciously supplied him."

The mirror image paused, as if Gale himself paused when constructing the message.

"Gale also wished for you to know that he cared for you deeply and valued your friendship. He has also requested that if you could keep Tara close for the duration of her stay at camp before her departure back to Waterdeep. He… he wished he was given more time to know you better."

Little did Gale know, come morn Elminster would have been waiting nearby.

Send my muse anons pretending to be someone they care about. The twist: make these anons as heartbreaking, disappointing, or anger-inducing as possible. Accepting

Karlach had felt Gale deflate over the last couple of days. Most brushed it off as exhaustion finally setting in but, calling upon her instincts, to her it felt...heavier. She had tried to speak to him, as they were always able to do, but it seemed he didn't want to talk about whatever it was bothering him.

Pain, no doubt... Something she was beginning to have a fleeting understanding in how he suffered. Her engine had started to become incredibly painful with it's heat. A small part of what he felt... She offered whatever magical trinket she had a hold of but he seemed more rejected by each one. They weren't working. He was getting desperate and she could feel him slipping away. But what was she to do? Wanting to be left alone, she didn't check in on him. Instead, stoked the fire - needlessly for her sake - as he mind raced.

When he emerged and approached, she put on her usual reassuring smile. Nothing seemed off at first, albeit he looked incredibly melancholy. Was he now ready to open up? Silently, she waited for his word. But her brow furrowed almost instantly when 'Gale' spoke. The voice sounded off. Tin-ny. As if echoing. Scrambling to her feet, her skin ran unnaturally cold. She had heard this only once before, when Gale cast it as a pre-measure when he fell in battle.

As the words continued to come out of the illusions 'mouth', her breathing became uncontrollable. Usually it was accompanied by pure anger. But this time...fear. Unadulterated, all-encompassing terror.

She almost tore Gale's tent down as she pulled back the flap. Gone. But his belongings remained. He truly never expected to return. Startling Tara awake, no doubt, in her ambush she quickly spluttered her way through an explanation. Hoping, and receiving, the Tressym's aid by flying ahead and trying to find where he could have gotten to.

By air and by land, they searched. Karlach stopped only for a moment to try and steady her panicked breaths. Spotting then, some sliding footprints. Someone had stumbled over here... Recently. Following them at a sprint, occasionally losing them but managing to pick them back up either by her own tracking instinct or from Tara's calls above her.

Eventually, which felt like an eon, she found him. Making his way through these lands neither of them knew.

There was relief, but only minimal and not lasting long. Sprinting closer, she yelled out as she went. "OI!" She bit back her tears, almost collapsing when she was within earshot. "I once said that if Gale was kicked out of the group, that I was going to! You think I fucking lied?! It wasn't a threat, it was a promise!" Panting, and fighting her sobs - steaming from her cheeks.

"It can't end like this... If you're going somewhere, I'm going with you! I-I can't hold you... I can't hug you, pat your back and clearly my words aren't working either... So I'll just BE. I'll be with you 'till the end." Karlach smiled weakly as the tears continued to fall and quickly evaporate away. "We may as well both blow up together, eh? Make a true show of it... If we must. Together."