#spoilers i guess for that fic i posted yesterday

[dufrau]

Babe you said you wanted comments and I love being a cheerleader so have a comment so thought through that I'm a little embarrassed (I literally took notes)

The loneliness that is getting invited to your mum's book club.

Nancy being heartbroken about not being invited 💔

Hard relate to thinking 'what is the most normal way to do something' in a social situation.

Also Nancy's allowed to be angry anyway but when you add wet socks? Unhinged feral rage justified.

If I was at that party I would absolutely have walked in on them because I'd be like, where snacks??? Except I probably would have followed in the first instance because the pretty girls went to get snacks so that's where I need to be and then they would never have banged so basically I'm glad I was not written in.

Giggling at the idea of Nancy smashing the peanut butter BC robin suggested it was an inappropriate snack.

'Her arms were pink up close, from the sun, and Nancy wanted to grab onto her biceps, her wrists, just grab them and let go and then watch her handprints fade away. Which was insane, of course. And which was par for the course, of course.'

Nancy angry at the fridge? fan art, someone, please.

Obsessed with Nancy checking out Robins legs like damn 😍 she has no musculature and she runs stupid, that's hot

Robin being like yeah the bowls are here where I'm blocking you from getting them and doing nothing to remedy that... her mind

Nancy not knowing what to say and just slut shaming robin 💯

'I need to get in there' 👀

'Robin swallowed and Nancy watched it happen. She couldn't feel it, the movement of her throat, from where her fingers were, and she was jealous of that too.' 🥴😩💓

The idea that in their blossoming relationship Robin will look at Nancy's facial expression and not be sure if she is about to commit a crime or fuck her silly 🤌🏻

'That she could have been the one to invite Robin over, that Robin almost definitely would have come if Nancy had only asked. Robin's hands were on her face and her breath was in Nancy's mouth and Nancy was standing between her legs surrounded by the heat of her, wondering if Robin would come now if she asked.' 😩😩😩

'Left to her own devices she wound up doing things like taking on the federal government to avenge her friend's death' happens to the best of us x

I think my favourite line is 'Nancy wanted to rub up against the sound of it.'

Favourite ronance canon trope is robin doing anything Nancy asks her (sexual)

Thank you for feeding us!!

Oh wow thank YOU for feeding ME. <3<3<3

I will address your concerns in list format! Under a cut because this is so long! Which I am not complaining about at all for the record this is making my day!

You know Karen's book club is awful, too. Straight romance novels every month and they just get drunk and complain about their husbands.

No but for real the loneliness of summer vacation when you are in-between friend groups? It's been 25 years but I remember this so vividly 😭 I did not fuck anybody in a kitchen about it though unfortunately.

I think Nancy is often kind of Performing Normalcy in the show and I think being profoundly lonely on top of that makes it very how-it-felt-to-socialize-when-covid-precautions-started-to-let-up. She's trying so hard!

Wet socks are the worst. Anger intensifies.

My excuse for nobody walking in was first of all just that its my story and i didnt want them to, but besides that im like, well nobody asked for snacks actually, and the boys are swimming in the pool and steve is working on his tan. And tbh they probably weren't even in there that long. Anyway they thank you for not interrupting them!

I almost had her pull down a can of Bush's Baked Beans instead of the peanut butter but it felt like very niche fanservice so I refrained.

The sunburn stuff was just there to add specificity and make it feel more tangible. I am trying to trick you into imagining what it feels like.

Nancy standing in front of the fridge mad about being short is so funny to me i can see it so clearly in my mind 😂 She's so mad already and now she's too short to reach the chips?? The disrespect.

I am a Robin-was-terrible-at-soccer-and-only-played-one-season-because-her-parents-forced-her truther. I am also a girls-with-soft-legs-are-cute truther.

Robin was 100% fucking with Nancy re: the bowls. I don't think she fully understood the *way* she was fucking with Nancy, but she definitely knew it was riling her up and she leaned into that on purpose just to see what would happen.

Nancy truly does know better than to slut shame anybody but she also does NOT know how to say "you look so good i want to scream" so uh RIP her principles this one time i guess.

The "I need to get in there" bit was just fun to write. I stand by it. I love that shit.

Throats are sexy. That is all I have to say about that.

I'm pretty sure Robin already has a pavlovian response to Nancy's Felony Face but yeah from here on out she's toast.

That line is probably a little over the top but nobody is probably reading angry kitchen smut for the subtlety so again I stand by it!

It's true though, whenever Nancy has nothing to do she MAKES something to do. Luckily for the federal government she now has something to do (Robin.)

Thank you! I also like that line a lot!

This is also my favorite trope for them 🙏

[randomstarmuffin]

AUgust Day 1: Canon Divergence

dunno how many of these i'll actually manage but yay to at least 1!

cross-posted to ao3 and i'm so sorry but i work in 5 hrs and haven't slept so i'm just going to leave the actually good tagging there, apologies

April 11, 9:48 AM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 3

“Mr.… Swellow, right?”

“Uh. What am I, a Pokémon? Heh. Like, ‘Who’s that…’”

“…A…what?”

Well. Mia’s really off to a rocking start, here.

Mr. Grossberg’s correct, of course, in his little defendant’s lobby pep talk—she shouldn’t let the client see her like this, but she can’t help her frown or involuntarily biting her lip all the same. What the hell is a ‘pokey-mon’? Is that somehow relevant to the case? Did she miss something important in the court record, or–

“Er, you know what, never mind,” Doug Swellow says hurriedly, looking at her in concern—great, Mia, really great work, way to keep the client calm and assured. “I just meant, it’s actually Swallow, not Swellow. Like…huh, actually. Like the bird, I guess—just, the real one and not the ’mon, y’know?”

Mia…really doesn’t know. She’s also not sure if several of those words were even words.

“A-hem,” Grossberg coughs pointedly. “That aside, Mr. Swallow, rest assured, you’re in good hands.”

“Right,” Mia says, possibly a little too grateful for the save, “I promise, if you’re truly innocent, I will do everything I possibly can to save you!”

“Uhh,” Doug replies, leaning back as far as he can, “yeah, great. Would you mind, maybe, letting go of my jacket? Thanks.”

Right, right, right, it’s totally alright. Mr. Swellow—er, that is, Swallow—is the one on trial, and Mia’s got this. She knows what she has to do, and she can totally get through this and there’s no reason to be nervous at all. Once all’s said and done, she’ll be able to rest easy, she’ll be able to tell Diego he can rest easy, and Doug here will be able to rest easy, too…and preferably won’t be looking at her with such a clear questioning of the wisdom of his decision to agree to let her take over his defense from Mr. Grossberg anymore.

On the bright side, things can only go up from here.

April 11, 10:12 AM District Court Courtroom No. 2

Things go downhill very, very quickly.

It’s easy enough to answer the court’s first few questions: the defense is ready; the cause of death was poisoning; the motive, the “bad blood” between the parties involved, was, of course, Dahlia Hawthorne, the victim’s girlfriend and the defendant’s ex. Mia knows all that, even if it’s insulting to be treated like such a rookie she had to be asked the basics of the case at all—even more so that Winston “Rookie Killer” Payne was the one so smugly leading the discussion.

…Even more so, that, maybe, she really had been freaking out enough that some of the fundamental basics of court had fled her mind. Only for a moment, of course! But it still stings that Prosecutor Payne’s annoying needling actually helped her in any way.

Even then, it’s one thing to be treated like a rookie who doesn’t know the basics of the case (even if she had been furiously catching up on everything in the court record as the trial began). It’s another thing entirely for all of the evidence to stack up so quickly and concisely to implicate her client.

It’s another thing entirely to have to cross-examine her right off the bat.

As if that demure, crocodile grin wasn’t bad enough, the crocodile tears Dahlia Hawhorne hits the court with as soon as she steps on the stand are genuinely nauseating. Then again, maybe Mia’s the only one who thinks so—the judge and Prosecutor Payne are clearly charmed, and even Grossberg murmurs, “Poor girl,” from Mia’s side, despite the sharp elbow jab he receives in response.

In fairness, she would be, if Mia weren’t positive that not even an ounce of her so-sad sympathy-sculpting sorrow is sincere. If Mia weren’t sure that this woman is the one behind this whole thing, to begin with.

If Dahlia Hawthorne weren’t so clearly trying to get away with poisoning someone again.

Mia almost misses it, but someone scoffs as Hawthorne launches into her latest round of tearful, sobbing “testimony” (more accurately: accusation)—“I thought Dougie was better than this, how could he let his jealousy get the best of him, what did poor Feenie ever do to deserve this?!”—and when Mia surreptitiously glances askance to find the source, she finds the only other face in the room darkened with clear disdain rather than bleeding sympathy is her client’s.

So maybe there’s hope, then. Maybe despite having dated her in the past, Doug Swallow actually sees this megalomaniac for who she really is. It would certainly be a breath of fresh air, and it’s all the second wind she needs to reaffirm she has to prove this man’s innocence, however she can.

She’ll make sure he walks free, and she’ll make sure to get justice for the victim—for all of Hawthorne’s victims.

As for the cross-examination at hand…

Hawthorne sniffles piteously as she finally answers the question Payne had actually asked her: “We had dinner plans, so that’s why I went to Feenie’s place to meet up, and–! Oh, it’s too horrible!” She punctuates it with some more sobbing, but Mia isn’t deterred.

On the contrary, she calls, “Hold it! When you say ‘it’s too horrible,’ you’re referring to…?”

“F-finding his body, of course,” Hawthorne sobs, “he was just lying there, and, oh, poor Feenie–!”

“Witness,” Mia interrupts, “we are looking for facts with your testimony. We don’t need–”

“Ms. Fey, have a heart! Can’t you see the poor girl is in mourning? I can’t even imagine how hard this must all be for you, sweetie; please, take your time,” Payne cries.

Unfortunately, the judge all too readily agrees that she is, somehow, the one in the wrong here, and Mia is forced to try a slightly less aggressive approach.

“Urgh–! Okay. Fine. Then, Ms. Hawthorne, when you say you had dinner plans, when exactly were you supposed to meet?”

Altogether, it’s, to put it bluntly, a slog. Dancing around Hawthorne’s lies and the judge and Payne’s incessant gooey-eyed protectiveness of her is infuriating, but eventually, they can put together something of a timeline.

The problem is, Doug Swallow was witnessed exiting the victim’s building around 4 PM—and not just by Hawthorne, but corroborated by a bunch of Art Department students who knew the victim as well (not that he would have been hard to identify, considering his obnoxious sweater)—and Hawthorne herself claims to have entered it later at around 5:30, at which point other students heard her scream and someone eventually called 911 at exactly 5:34, which would seem to line up perfectly.

Hawthorne is vague about why she would have been hanging around the victim’s building at 4 if she wasn’t going to go in until later, but Mia isn’t able to press her about it very hard before His Honor stops her from “going too far” for something not particularly related to the case.

In any event, when Payne calls the defendant to the stand to testify himself, Mia meets his eyes and finds again a kinship to her own feelings about Hawthorne, and she can definitively state that the defense has no objections. Besides, Swallow is innocent.

All she has to do is prove it.

April 11, 12:17 AM District Court Courtroom No. 2

“Proving it” is proving difficult.

It’s news to Mia that they’d found the defendant’s fingerprints on the victim’s bottle of cold medicine—even when the judge calls for a 20 minute recess following the change of witness and this revelation, and she takes the opportunity to grill him about it, he just laughs humorlessly and sits heavily on the couch with his head in his hands, saying, “I’m fucked. She got me.”

She’s hoping getting back in the courtroom will make her client more forthcoming, but he clearly doesn’t want to tell them what actually happened.

“What’s the point?” Swallow asks, smiling bitterly. “No one would ever believe me.”

“Mr. Swallow,” Mia implores, or perhaps begs, with how desperate she feels, “I swear to you, I believe in you. I believe in your innocence, and I want to help prove it. But I can’t do that unless you tell me what happened. Please.”

He stares her down for a moment. “I really don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”

“That’s fine. I don’t have to like it, I just need to know what really happened. If—if you want me to get—the person who did this—and to get due justice for you and Mr. Wright, I need to know.”

Doug sighs. “That poor sucker. He never knew what hit him… Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll tell you, but…don’t blame me if you have to eat your words.”

Mia wishes she could say she wasn’t worried about it, but she has no idea what to expect. Indeed, she doesn’t expect what he tells them, but it’s not as bad as she feared. That doesn’t make it good, but…

“I called him out to talk—Phoenix Wright, I mean. We were supposed to meet at 2:45 PM after class behind the Pharmacology Building. I was there on time, but he never showed. I waited around for a while by myself, but eventually I figured he wasn’t coming and left. I…got worried, later, and…that’s why I went to his place. The medicine bottle…that…wasn’t my fault.”

Sure, there’s more than enough clearly wrong with that, but it’s also something to work with.

“What did you want to talk to him about?”

“Oh. I…well, to be honest, I wanted to warn him about Dahlia.”

“‘Warn’ him? How so?” Mia presses, hoping she doesn’t sound too eager.

“She’s…” he hesitates, eyeing the judge mistrustfully, “she’s not the person she seems like she is. There were…there were a couple of…thefts. In the labs, in the pharmacology department.”

“Thefts of what?” Mia prompts.

“…Deadly poison. Once the night before the incident, and once eight months ago.”

Eight months ago! Finally, finally.

Swallow continues, “I wanted to warn that guy—Mr. Wright—just in case. I was worried because…Dahlia had come to the lab both times. She was the only one who could have stolen it! I have no idea what she was doing with it, but…well. Rather, I had no idea. Now that it’s come to this, though…I feel like it’s pretty clear.”

Mia can barely hear the murmur of the gallery over the pounding in her own ears. Dahlia Hawthorne stole deadly poison from the pharmacology lab eight months ago. It’s exactly what she’s been waiting for.

Before she gets ahead of herself, she needs to make sure she gets everything she can out of this cross-examination, though.

The judge calls for order, and Mia takes a deep breath of her own.

“Then, Mr. Swallow,” she prompts, “when you say you were worried about the defendant and went looking for him at his place, you mean…?”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect the guy to end up dead! I just…when he told me he’d be there at the meeting time, he sounded pretty set on coming. I guess I was more worried Dahlia had gotten to him first—er, well, not like… Like, that she’d told him not to talk to me, y’know.”

“And when you arrived at Mr. Wright’s room, what happened?”

“I knocked, but no answer. His neighbor saw me in the hall and told me he’d tried to go out earlier but his cold had apparently gotten worse and he barely made it to the end of the hallway before some of the other students had to take him back.”

“Did they see Ms. Hawthorne?”

“I…didn’t ask, sorry. I should have. But, I kind of doubt it…”

“That’s okay,” Mia says. There’s only one last thing she really needs to follow up on, then. “Mr. Swallow. When you said the medicine bottle ‘wasn’t your fault,’ what did you mean by that?”

He lets out a heavy breath, like maybe he’s been expecting this all along. “Right. Well. That would be because…”

His hesitation lasts long enough Mia has to prompt, “Because?”

“Because,” Swallow sighs, “I didn’t end up seeing Phoenix Wright at all that day, but I did run into Dahlia Hawthorne.”

The judge has to call for order. When things have quieted down again, Mia has to reign in her own excitement. She’s so close. She can almost taste it.

“And when was that?” Mia asks, “What happened then?”

“It was while I was waiting for Mr. Wright. She passed by the Pharmacology Department…and ran into me, literally. She bumped into me—I thought because our umbrellas had been obscuring us from each other, and she’d had headphones on, but…”

“You don’t think that anymore?”

He laughs harshly. “Yeah, not really. She fell over when she bumped me, both our umbrellas went flying…and she dropped some other stuff she’d been carrying. Including a bottle of Coldkiller X…which I stupidly picked up for her. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was literally the whole reason she approached me in the first place.”

Prosecutor Payne sneers, “Hah! How convenient! Your Honor, the witness is clearly lying through his teeth to cover his tracks!”

Mia’s pretty sure Swallow mutters, “That’s what I was afraid of,” but she doesn’t have time for that.

She has to convince the judge that her client is telling the truth. And… She thumbs the corner of the newspaper clipping in her pocket. She has to find a way to connect this to Diego’s poisoning. She has to.

She is so, so close.

April 11, 2:59 PM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 3

She never gets close.

There just isn’t any evidence. She can’t prove Dahlia Hawthorne stole the poison from the lab, and all she has is Doug’s word that she was ever there at all. No surveillance cameras, no entry or exit logs, no nothing.

She can’t prove it.

She can, and does, however, prove Doug Swallow’s innocence. The words “Not Guilty” have never sounded so bitter. It’s a fluke, honestly. Most of the end of the trial is a blur. It turns out Swallow has an airtight alibi that somehow they’ve all missed. It turns out, by some miracle, Swallow never had the opportunity to take the specific poison that was used, that he was always with at least one other person in the lab, that—honestly, even if she only just proved it all, she barely remembers the specifics; it’s just, it doesn’t really matter.

It doesn’t matter, because Mia fails. She couldn’t prove she stabbed Valerie Hawthorne, she couldn’t prove she pressured Terry Fawles into taking poison to silence himself for her, and.

She can’t prove Dahlia Hawthorne murdered Phoenix Wright.

She still can’t prove Dahlia Hawthorne poisoned Diego.

The insidious tinkling of Hawthorne’s smug laughter chases Mia out of the courtroom. She was honestly ready to lay everything on the line just for a chance to bring Dahlia to justice, even a very, very slim one, but Mr. Grossberg had stopped her before she’d pressed hard enough to lose her badge entirely. He’d had a point, she supposes. If she loses her badge, she’s that much further from being able to do anything about any of this. If she loses her badge, she’s that much further from her original goal, from finding the man who ruined her mother and her village and bringing him to justice, too.

But it hurts.

Diego once told her a lawyer can only cry when it’s all over.

But fuck, she wants to cry. She wants to scream and bitch and moan and curse until her throat is raw, too, but she really, really wants to cry.

She won’t. He’s right. She still has work to do. But that doesn’t erase the want.

Still. Even if there’s a dark, heavy pit in her stomach, even if this is somehow nearly as bad as the worst day of her life, when she’d had to watch her first client die on the stand before her very eyes, she still has a duty to her current client.

She forces the brightest smile she can muster.

It might not be enough, but it’s something. She has to try. It can be the darkest hour, and she still has to try. She couldn’t live with herself otherwise.

“Congratulations, Mr. Swallow,” Mia manages, turning to him. Smiling.

“Yes, congratulations!” Grossberg agrees, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. Mia’s boss is undoubtedly faring better than she is, but she can tell he’s far from unphased. Still, she appreciates that he’s able to muster a little more enthusiasm—Doug deserves it from somewhere, at least, and it sure as hell isn’t going to get there from Mia.

“Thanks,” Swallow says. He smiles back, although Mia can tell he’s feeling a much more real sense of relief at his acquittal than she is. He winces a little, like maybe he can tell as well. “I’m…really sorry I didn’t have anything else to help prove it was her.”

“No, no, that’s… You have nothing to apologize for,” Mia replies honestly. “If anything, I really need to thank you. Even just knowing where the poison was from…that’s a great clue. Really.”

Swallow looks like maybe he can’t decide if she’s just being nice about that or not, but if he has doubts he doesn’t say anything about them.

Mr. Grossberg asks, “What will you do now?”

The question reminds Mia—she feels terrible she’d forgotten to even think about it, frankly. She gasps, “Shit—sorry, Mr. Swallow. But—I don’t think she’s going to just forget about this. You might still be in danger–”

“Ah,” Swallow says, not sounding particularly surprised, “yeah, I…was kinda thinking the same thing. Then again, if anything happens to me now, it seems like it’d be pretty obvious, so maybe… Well, either way, this is my last year. I graduate in a couple months. Maybe I’ll be a little extra paranoid during that time, but, hey, y’know. I got falsely accused of murder, and all. I don’t think my classmates will find it all that weird if I insist on taking a buddy with me everywhere.”

It’s not a terrible plan—it is, in fact, an exponentially better plan than anything Mia had come up with, which was a big fat nothing, because she’d been so clouded by her dark, bitter disappointment and rage that she’d let Dahlia Hawthorne get away again.

Grossberg seems to agree, for whatever that’s worth, because he says, “That sounds like a wise course of action, but still, be careful out there, my boy.”

Actually, Grossberg looks a little like he’s thinking about how he might need to watch his own back, too—which, in all fairness, is absolutely true.

“Yeah,” Doug agrees, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “You too. You know…it’s a shame, really.”

“What is?” Mia asks. Which specific shame are we talking, here? There are oh-so-many to choose from.

Doug is looking at the doors to the courtroom like he hasn’t quite caught up with the fact he doesn’t have to go back into it yet. “It’s a shame about Phoenix Wright, I mean.”

“Oh,” Mia says, feeling stupid. Obviously. And it is a shame. She’s feeling keenly her own shame at not being able to catch his killer.

“Yeah. He must have—I mean, they spent so much time together, you know? He had to have known something else—maybe, if only you could ask him, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the guy seemed like a total simp, but still. You can’t spend that much of your time with someone and never give anything away, right? Or pick up on something? He must have known something that could have helped prove it. Then again, I guess that’s probably why he’s, you know…”

“Y…yeah,” Mia says faintly.

Her mind is whirling, overloaded, her processing running slowly. She’s stuck on—if only you could ask him.

If only…there was a way…to ask someone…someone dead–

“Well,” Grossberg is saying regretfully, “if only that were possible, and we might not even need lawyers working court cases after all. Imagine, if you could just ask every victim about what happened. You’ll put us out of a job, Mr. Swallow!”

The two men laugh, albeit more than a little lackluster, not as if it’s something particularly funny per se but more like the only thing you can do about something so ridiculous, so idealistic, so impossible, is in fact to laugh at the mere suggestion of it.

Mia feels like laughing, too, but maybe not in the same way.

April 11, 4:56 PM RosAnzerusu Mia Fey’s Apartment

Mia doesn’t laugh until she’s safely home, and, importantly, alone.

She thinks she said goodbye to them both, at some point. She’s pretty sure they all went their separate ways, considering she’s definitely by herself, now. She’s also pretty sure Grossberg dropped her off at her apartment, not being subtle about doing it because he was worried about letting her walk or take the bus alone after what just happened. She hopes she thanked him. She appreciates it, and it’s not his fault she’s got something else on her mind. It won’t exactly be fun to go back to the office on Monday, but she doesn’t think it’ll be completely suffocating, either.

Still, she laughs.

It’s, frankly, a terrible idea.

The last time anyone tried it for this specific purpose, Mia’s mom fucking vanished into the ether because of how utterly terribly it went, leaving not only Mia but also her 10-years-younger sister to fend for themselves in the downright ravenous jungle of the power struggle vacuum she left behind for them.

Then again, last time, it had been to name the killer, not to find evidence to implicate an already known killer. So maybe not, technically, this specific purpose.

It’s still a bad idea. It’s still such a bad idea.

Mia doesn’t realize she’s picked up her phone until it’s already ringing, and by then it would be far more cruel to hang up first.

“Sis!” comes the phone-distorted young voice to prove her right in no time at all. “What’s up?! You never call on Fridays!”

Even just hearing Maya’s voice is enough to make things seem less bleak. Mia hadn’t realized she needed that right now.

Mia can’t help but chuckle, though she hopes it’s a little less manic than the kind of cackling she’d been doing as she slid down her apartment door as soon as it closed behind her. “Hey, Maya.”

“I– Oh, oops, hang on,” Maya says, and then, slightly muffled: “No, it’s fine, Aunt Morgan, it’s just Mia! Yeah, I– Yeah, I know, don’t worry!” and then once more in her normal voice: “So! Hi! What’s goin’ on?”

Well, if only that weren’t such a loaded question. “Just got home from a trial.”

“Oh, well, that’s pretty— Wait, what?! Like a trial in court?! I thought you didn’t want to do those anymore? You never mentioned you were going back! What gives?”

Mia can’t completely hold back her sigh. She can’t unload all of this on Maya, she’s still so young—only fourteen. Mia is the older one; she’s the only truly loving, reliable family Maya has left in the world. It’s too much of a burden to share with her. Which is exactly why Mia should never have even remotely entertained the idea in the first place, and why she definitely shouldn’t have called, and–

“Helloooo? Mia? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m– I’m still here, Maya.” And then Mia stops there. And then Mia stops there and doesn’t continue because if she lets herself continue she’s going to say something stupid like: “Hey, Maya? How would you feel about coming for a visit? Maybe stay with me over the weekend, or…?”

Mia’s so busy refraining from smashing her face into her own door frame for her complete lack of self control, she almost doesn’t notice how unexpectedly lengthy the pause is before Maya replies.

She doesn’t have time to question it before Maya is saying, breathless and somehow both trepidatious and excited at the same time, “…You really mean it? Me come there? The whole weekend?!”

There’s too much jumbled around in Mia’s head to fully appreciate what it means that her sister doesn’t immediately believe she could really be inviting her over to her place. She can’t think about that, too. Not right now.

So she laughs a little (and no one can see her if it’s a bit helpless) and repeats, “Yes, Maya, the whole weekend. Unless you get sick of me, I guess.”

“No!” Maya shouts, maybe a little too quick and a little too loud. “No, I mean, that’s– Of course I wanna come! I just– I mean, I thought you’d be calling for a favor, or something. Haha.”

“Ah,” Mia says, wincing. “Well…”

“Oh,” Maya says, though she recovers her lighthearted tone much faster this time, “What, you need a housesitter or something, Sis? For shame, using your one and only little sister for manual child labor…”

“Ha-ha,” Mia replies flatly. “Not that kind of favor.”

In fact, if she can keep a hold of herself and her own better judgment, she might not ask any kind of favor at all. That’s what she knows she should do, at least.

Only…Diego. Only: Mr. Fawles, and Valerie Hawthorne, and Mr. Wright.

“Oh yeah? What kind of favor, then?”

Mia should just let it go. In all likelihood, he won’t react well to the whole thing, anyway. In all likelihood, he won’t be able to give a coherent answer, he’ll freak out, he’ll want nothing to do with them, he’ll—any number of things. A million ways it could all go very, very wrong. Not to mention—bringing Maya here? Now? Right after she challenged Dahlia Hawthorne again in such a direct way?

Mia would never forgive herself if she got her sister involved in something dangerous—and, well. This particular thing already has at least four bodies in its wake—three cold, one warm but unmoving.

Mia can’t do this. She can’t–

She can’t. She can’t let her go. What will she do when the next victim appears? When she could have tried something more to stop her?

“Well…” How to say this. In the end, Mia decides: “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, if you’re willing, Maya.”

And Maya answers, “Oh yeah? Sounds easy! Are they cool?”

“You know? I have no idea.”

“Huh? You mean it’s not someone you know?”

“Not really,” Mia laughs, “no. Want to find out together?”

“I,” says Maya, “have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, but do you even have to ask? Of course! Which train do I take?”

If Mia were smart, if she were responsible, she’d call the whole thing off now.

So of course, Mia asks, “When’s the next one leave?”

And honestly, it might all be worth it just to hear Maya’s delighted laugh in response and to know, if nothing else, at least she’ll get to see her sister’s bright face soon.

It might.

Hopefully, she’s right to wager that it will be.

[cookinguptales]

I got both my flu and covid shot yesterday so today I'm feeling. bad. lmao. But I also saw two movies and had fun at them both!

I'll make posts about both of them, but I guess I'll start with A Haunting in Venice because I have more thoughts about it, I think.

My non-spoilery thoughts are that I actually enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would! The ambiance was impeccable and I think I'd watch it again just to look at it. It was very pleasantly spooky, more than I'd expected, and despite not having watched the other films, I was able to easily follow along. A lot of the acting was super fun, and Michelle Yeoh was really hot, and it was a spooky ghost story! What more could you want?

(Except subtitles, I guess, because I missed a lot of dialogue. Much more than I usually do. Kenneth Branagh's fake French accent was particularly difficult to decipher.)

Two personal things, which I thought were funny. The children's song heard repeatedly in the movie, Giro Giro Tondo, creeped me out specifically because my mother gave me a doll when I was little that she'd gotten in Italy during a business trip, and when you held its hands it sang that song. I... have a bit of a doll phobia, so I did have a moment of OH NO, IT'S THIS BITCH.

The other is that I was able to figure out the mystery very quickly because of my own special interests, which was very funny to me. I'm sorry that I am too much the target audience for this movie. ;; More on that in a minute.

spoilers below the cut

It was interesting to hear after watching the movie that the original book took place in the UK because the central spookiness of the film did feel very Italian. The old ruined palazzo, the ruinous aftereffects of the Holocaust in Central Europe, the general Vibe. But most of the main characters aren't Italian, so I suppose it makes sense...

It was definitely much darker than I had expected it to be, from a human cruelty standpoint. The allusions to the Holocaust (both when discussing Dr. Ferrier's severe PTSD after liberating Bergen-Belsen and the Romani siblings who were orphaned and forced into very dire straits to survive) were very frank and graphically discussed, which isn't something you actually see in films as often these days, and the fact that impoverished orphan children really were purposefully murdered during the plague had... very familiar vibes after being from a high-risk (and easily dismissed) group during covid.

In the end, the movie ended up being as much about metaphorical ghosts as literal ones, and I can see how a writer struggling with her wartime experiences as a nurse would end up writing a story that so blatantly grapples with the soul of humanity -- and whether it's worth protecting. The medium comparing hearing the ghosts screaming to her time as a nurse during the war treating the suffering... It does make me think about Christie's own experiences, y'know? I haven't read the book, so idk how much of it was invented for the movie, but... it did make me think about her.

As for the mystery itself... I guess there are two things to know about me. One is that I studied mithridatism (and Mithridates himself) when writing fic for Arsenic and Old Lace for YT many years ago. The other is that I wrote an original f/f fic about poisonous beekeeping around the same period. It wasn't my best work, necessarily, but I'll tell you -- I know a lot about mad honey.

So let's just say that the suspense wasn't quite as suspenseful for me lmao. From the second that one woman say "Mithridates" I was pretty ready for what was coming next, and when I saw that she kept bees and everyone kept eating honey... I mean. lmao

That said, the fact that it was very difficult to tell whether the ghostly apparitions were hallucinations or real or some combination of the two was really fun and interesting.

With Christie's Thing for poisons... I guess it's interesting how much fo the movie was about food and hunger and how food can kill you if it's not the right kind -- and how love could go the same way. The discussion of the camp survivors in Germany dying after being given milk, the children being intentionally walled up and starved to death, the siblings eating "non-food", like mice, in order to survive after being orphaned during the war... And obviously the poisoned tea from a mother whose love itself had been poisoned.

And then, y'know, the metaphor flourishing when you see how love itself, twisted into madness, was the reason why so many people had suffered and died. Rowena's fear that her daughter would leave her, Alicia's agony that her fiancé had, Olga accidentally poisoning a child she loved because she was trying to soothe her, Ferrier accidentally poisoning the concentration camp survivors when trying to nurse them back to health, Leopold's desperate attempts to protect and support his father being the exact thing that got him killed...

I'm a little too tired to pull it together into a coherent thesis statement, but... The themes are layered here. Hunger for food and for love and for companionship. Poison being added to the things you think will nourish you and those you love. The desire to be seen, by those you love and those you respect and those who you fear have forgotten you...

You have Ariadne (great name for a spinner of mysteries, btw) using a friend in order to get back her adoring public. Both Maxim and Alicia desperate for the other's attention. Poor little Leo trying to soothe his father's PTSD and being parentified at far too young an age, but desperate to be seen for the marvel he is all at once.

And Alicia's ghost, obviously, reaching out to those she'd known in life and trying to get revenge on those who'd harmed her. She wanted to be seen, too, and she wanted to be understood.

I suppose that's what the whole movie comes down to. Love and understanding and the way it can be twisted horribly even as we crave it.

The movie wasn't perfect and I suspect the subject matter will be far too dark for people expecting something like Knives Out, but I did enjoy it far more than I thought it would. The vibes were genuinely very creepy and the mystery and characters were interesting. I haven't read the book, so I can't tell you how it stacks up there.

I think, sorry Kenneth Branagh, that his casting as Poirot was probably the weakest part of the movie for me. That said, the directing was so good that I at times found myself like "sir?? why not just direct these movies and let someone else play the lead????"

(see: the lin-manuel miranda effect)

But a lot of the other acting was very good, especially Michelle Yeoh who was very hot and very interesting in her role. Boy, I was SO sad when she was the first to die because I was like "OH NO, SHE WAS SO HOT..."

/shallow

Anyway, tl;dr it was a good movie for the spooky season, even if I suspect some of the subject matter will be difficult for people to handle. (Particularly the child death.) And even if you don't enjoy the writing, the footage of Venice and the overall vibes are impeccable so you can just turn off your brain and enjoy wandering through a spooky ruined palazzo.

[not-poignant]

OMG, I literally found your Astarion/Raphael fic yesterday, desperately looking for something like it. So happy someone else had the same brain worms as me XD

I was wondering if I could pick your brain a bit about what kind of direction you think you will take the fic? I was wondering if you had any plans in your head or if you are just following the vibes so to speak.

Especially with Raphael being in the pairing, I wondered if this is more of a "It turns out they are actually good for each other" kind of thing or more of a "Astarion has to find out what his life is going to be now/get over some things and Raphael will enjoy every second of making him squirm" kind of thing.

In any case, I am looking forward to reading more, thank you :)

Hi hi,

So I guess answering this would kind of be talking about really end-game spoilers, but I also don't have a plan for this story beyond Astarion/Raphael, and 'hopeful ending.'

(I mean I do have more than that, I just don't know how much of that I want to reveal at this stage, when it's only chapter 5, and this story could easily be over 40 chapters long - there's a lot of potential for change and growth that could alter the trajectory of the relationship in a lot of different directions.'

What I will say is that:

I do not consider Astarion giving into a regular non-consensual situation and just accepting it and making painful peace with it, a hopeful ending type situation. Agency is important to me in my characters. Even if he one day decides to voluntarily submit to scenes he doesn't love - that would at least be a choice. Anything done while under contract with difficult consequences will not be where the hopeful ending happens.

It's an Astarion/Raphael story, therefore the hopeful ending will be an Astarion/Raphael ending. That's just how my brain works. It will not be a 'they break up and THAT'S why it's hopeful.' However, the end may not have a conventional looking relationship. And I've written unconventional endings in relationships before (like Stuck on the Puzzle)

For me, a hopeful ending (as opposed to a happy ending) means that we have to have confidence in the idea that Astarion's life will continue to improve and get better even after the story has ended. There's now enough evidence that he has enough enrichment and potentially for happiness in his life, that he won't downward spiral like he has in the same way again. This means he needs - more support, more healing, healthier avenues for communication even if the relationship isn't healthy overall all the time/every second, and some pretty big personal realisations about what he wants in life. Hopeful ending is both 'better than where we found him, but also genuinely, when most people think on the last chapter, they think 'he's got some ways to go in healing, but I really think he's/they're going to be okay'' not just physically, but also emotionally, spiritually, mentally.

Those are the things I'm happy to reveal because that's how I feel about almost all of my hopeful endings. That's what that means to me.

I do think Raphael and Astarion can actually be good for each other, but I think we're missing huge pieces of the puzzle as to why that's true. Because we're missing so much of Raphael's post-death story, because he's deliberately hiding it.

But we'll find out more soon. At some point, High Inquisitor Verillius Receptor will visit, and then we'll find out a lot more, lol.

(Also yeah this story will be long, easily I suspect around 150k in length as a baseline - we're on an emotional journey folks! Sometimes the growth will be healthy, sometimes it'll be negative, we're going in all the directions lmao).

[winchesterandpie]

Not a Lie After All

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word Count: 3710

Warnings: Some angst, but mostly fluff!

A/N: So I wasn't planning on posting this quite so soon, but the other part (It was all Just a Lie) didn't show up in the tags, which was kinda disappointing. I'm hoping this part will show up! But anyways, the funny thing is I actually wrote this part first because I couldn't bear to write the sad stuff without fluff. So here's some *FIC SPOILERS* reunion fluff because surprise(!) he didn't actually die *END SPOILERS*

Anyway, please excuse the kinda bad time breaks and jumping back and forth, I tried to keep it somewhat clear what's going on and when.

It had been a year. One whole year since Maverick had delivered the worst news of your life. It was… odd. You felt you had aged a decade, yet also like it was just yesterday that you had kissed Bradley goodbye before that fateful mission.

When you opened your phone in the morning and saw the date, the grief hit you like a truck all over again. You set the phone back down and turned your face into the pillow, trying in vain to shut out the day. You gave yourself a minute before sighing heavily and forcing yourself to sit up.

Gently, you picked up the picture frame from your nightstand. It was a shot Maverick had taken of you and Bradley on the beach, laughing at something you couldn’t remember. There was nothing you wouldn’t give to have him look at you like that again.

“I miss you, Roo,” you murmured softly. 

If you closed your eyes, you could almost hear his bright laughter as you held the frame to your chest. When you felt the tears gather and start to fall, you didn’t stop them. Today, of all days, you could allow yourself time to cry.

With a watery smile, you set the picture back down and picked up your phone again.

As you could have guessed, you had several texts from the Dagger Squad pilots, one from Mav, and even one from Iceman. Hangman’s text was particularly insistent that if you needed anything, you were to let him know. It made you chuckle a little as you brushed away the tears that had fallen. 

They had felt like family to you even before Rooster’s death, but they had really taken you under their wings after. The first couple of weeks, there had always been at least one of them with you, making sure you ate, slept, showered, and generally looked after yourself. Even when you pushed yourself back to your metaphorical feet, they were there supporting you every step of the way. 

You stopped when you saw the text from Penny. She had offered you a job at the Hard Deck after everything, and you had taken her up on it. At first, it had been just a way to keep busy, but you’d grown to really love working there. You didn’t want to miss a text from your boss, so you opened that one first.

You chuckled and shook your head at the message. She told you to take the day off. The second message from her clarified that she wasn’t asking. You sent off a quick response, even though no thanks would ever quite be enough.

Over the course of your morning, you worked through the other texts, other debts of gratitude you could never repay. They would insist otherwise if you asked them. So you were quietly grateful, and you did your best to make their efforts worthwhile.

You knew you needed to get out of the house, at least for a little while. It was exhausting, sometimes, to be your own zookeeper, but it had to be done. You could sigh, then make yourself get dressed, and get out the door without too much fuss by now.

Today, you didn’t hesitate to pull Bradley’s favorite Hawaiian shirt on over your tank top, leaving it unbuttoned. You had worn them often at first, slowly easing yourself out of them as time went on. The shirts stopped smelling like him a long time ago, but the feel of the fabric on your skin still brought you some comfort.

A lifetime ago, it had been commonplace for Bradley to tug one of his shirts onto your shoulders in the evening. He had always said they looked better on you. Then, he would take your hand in his and lead you to the beach, where the two of you would walk as you caught up on each other’s days.

Today, you found a secluded little cove where you sat and watched the waves. You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but you began to tell him about your week all the same. 

**On a ship, somewhere in the Pacific**

“I still can’t believe that stunt of yours.” Maverick shook his head at Rooster as he came out of the sick bay. “I take it you’re all clear?”

“All clear.” Rooster nodded before pulling the older man into another embrace. “It’s good to see you, Mav.”

“Good to see you too, kid.”

Both men tactfully didn’t point out the matching damp patches on the shoulders of their shirts. They stuck together as they made their way out to somewhere they could talk.

“I wasn’t sure it was going to be you,” Mav said quietly when they found somewhere to sit. “How’d you manage to get in contact after a year?”

“It’s a long story. Short version, I got really lucky and found some friendly people.”

Maverick reached out and squeezed the younger man’s shoulder, as though reminding himself it was real. Rooster leaned into it--he’d missed familiar faces. After a minute, the younger man swallowed, bracing for the question he needed answered.

“How is she?”

Maverick didn’t need to ask who he meant. He remembered every expression that had crossed your face when he delivered the news a year ago. He remembered how you had shaken as you cried. “She thinks you’re dead. We all did.”

“She doesn’t know?” Incredulity and anger warred on Rooster’s face.

“We weren’t sure it was you until we picked you up.”

“So what?”

“What if it wasn’t you? Would you have wanted us to get her hopes up only to crush her again?” Mav’s voice was calm, steady, and placating.

“No,” he acknowledged reluctantly. Rooster’s jaw clenched, his face scrunching up as tears built up in his eyes, unshed. His heart broke imagining what you had endured the past year.

“That considered, she’s… okay. We’ve all been watching out for her.”

“Thank you,” he managed to say.

**That evening, outside the Hard Deck**

“So she’s in there?” Bradley asked as they pulled up.

“Should be. She’s usually on the closing shift today.”

He was off the back of the bike the second it stopped moving, jogging up to the door of the bar. He stepped inside, scanning the faces for yours. It took a moment, but then the Dagger Squad saw him. They were on him in a heartbeat, cheering as they pulled him into a massive group hug.

He finally untangled himself with a laugh, shoving Hangman’s shoulder lightly.

“Where’s she at? Mav said she was working here now?”

“I gave her the day off,” Penny interjected, stepping away from the bar. “It was a year ago today, I knew it would be rough.”

Bradley was off like a shot, calling a quick “thank you,” over his shoulder.

“Does he know she moved?” Penny asked, a beat after he was gone. 

Maverick, who hadn’t been far behind him coming in, cursed under his breath, then ran back out the door after the younger man.

Rooster had gone too far already to hear Mav calling after him. 

Half an hour later, he was back, having reached your old apartment and found that you no longer lived there. Despite having been assured that you were alright, Mav could see the edge of fear on his face as he returned.

“You gonna run off before we can get a word in edgewise again?”

Bradley ducked his head sheepishly, chuckling a little. “So she’s not at her old apartment anymore.”

“No, she bought that house you two had been talking about getting.” Maverick stood from where he’d been leaning against the bike, motioning with his head for the young aviator to get on. “She moved a couple of months after you…” He cut himself off, just nodding rather than speaking it out loud.

“She really got that place, huh?”

“She’s fixed it up pretty well.”

**A little earlier, at your house**

You had returned home later than you had planned, but once you reached the block, you hurried in without looking at the outside of the house. Looking at it today reminded you of the time you’d spent with Bradley deciding on the perfect place to move in together.

You were grateful you had had the foresight to pick up a container of Ben and Jerry’s at the grocery store yesterday. You had needed the time to really remember him--which of course came with really missing him. Today was a day you could allow yourself to feel all of it. But that added up to you feeling rather drained as you pulled out the ice cream and settled onto the couch.

After one show ended, that damn movie came on again. You swore it was your personal bad omen. When you saw Betty White in the train station on the screen again, you searched everything within your arms’ reach, but the remote had disappeared among the cushions and blankets. The first flashback they showed returned you to that moment a little over a year ago when you said goodbye to your naval aviator, and you resigned yourself to the rest of the movie. It wasn’t like there was worse news you could get at the end of it this time.

By the end, you were bawling again, holding a blanket around your shoulders like a cloak. The weight of Bradley’s absence was crushing again as you watched the last memories of Caroline and Neal. It felt too much like your own memories. You set the empty ice cream container on the side table so you could pull your knees to your chest.

The doorbell rang, but you ignored it. You didn’t want anyone to see you right now.

It rang again, and this time you reluctantly pushed yourself up and swiped the tears away harshly. You left the blanket around your shoulders, though. Anyone who wanted to see you today would just have to be grateful you answered the door.

You paused for a moment, brushing the remnants of the tears with the corner of the blanket. Then you opened the door.

“No,” you said when you saw who was there. “No, that’s not possible.”

Bradley Bradshaw stood in front of you--or at least he appeared to. He said your name softly, and the tears started again.

“How can you… you’re…” you stopped yourself before the sob in your throat could bubble out. “You can’t be real, you’re dead.”  You must have finally lost it.

Shaking your head, you took a step back, away from the mirage of him.

“Sweetheart, it’s me, I’m here.” He reached out for you, his hand catching yours on the doorknob before you could retreat. 

His hand was solid and warm against yours and your gaze snapped to the point of contact before trailing back slowly to his face. If you could feel him, he had to really be there. Right? Could you really dare to hope for it? 

“Bradley?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper. 

He swallowed hard when you asked, a stab of guilt flashing through his eyes. Then he nodded, a tiny motion, but it drew you a hesitant step toward him, lifting a hand to his cheek. Bradley leaned into your touch, his eyes slipping shut as his breath caught in his throat.

You were sure, now, that you weren’t crazy, so you didn’t hesitate another moment to throw your arms around him. He returned the hug fiercely, clutching you to him. You were crying again, shaking like a leaf in his hold, but you didn’t care.

“You’re alive,” you mumbled, repeating the words like a prayer.

“I’m okay,” he reassured as he tangled his fingers in your hair to hold your head to him.

“I thought--” your voice broke on the word.

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“S’not your fault, Roo.” You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. Oh, how you had missed those eyes. “I’m just so glad you’re here.”

“I promised, didn’t I?” His smile was blinding and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care,” you repeated, still more than a little shocked by everything. “You’re really here.”

His hand slid around to the side of your face, tilting your forehead to meet his. Bradley swept his thumb back and forth across your cheek, brushing away the few tears that still fell as your breathing slowly eased. He was crying too, evidenced by the way his face glistened in the light from behind you. You reached up to hold the back of his neck, pressing yourself upward to kiss his cheeks.

He laughed, a broken, watery sound that held so much relief. It made you laugh too, the broken pieces of your heart fitting back together at last as his warmth softened their jagged edges. The rest of the world faded around you. There was nothing but him and you, wrapped up in the joy of being reunited at last. 

You weren’t so caught up in him that you missed the sound of a motorcycle pulling away from your driveway. Twisting enough to look past his shoulder, you saw Maverick turning to leave. He returned your wave with a salute and a grin.

Bradley turned with you without releasing you, pressing his lips to your temple as you watched Mav drive away.

“Do you want to come in? I can give you the whole tour,” you offered, nudging him with your shoulder. 

“I’d like that.” He let you lead him inside, closing the door behind the two of you. “I can’t believe you got this place.”

You worried briefly that he was upset, but you glanced up at him to see only adoration and softness in his eyes. “It felt like a way to keep you close, y’know?” You dropped your gaze, forcing a chuckle in an attempt to dispel the wave of emotion that rose in your throat.

“It looks good,” he murmured, squeezing you more tightly to him. He traded the arm around your shoulders to take your hand in the hallway.

As you walked through the house, you wondered what he thought about all the pieces of him scattered about. There were pictures of him and of his parents in several places, sure, but there were other mementos too. His old set of dog tags was in the nightstand by your bed, his clothes hung in the closet, and even his aviators sat on the kitchen counter.

“Mav kept a lot of your stuff,” you explained quickly when you saw his eyes start to glisten at the photo from the beach. “Including the Bronco. We can work out how to get it all back--”

“You kept all this?” he asked suddenly, the words sounding like they were punched out of him.

You shrugged, feeling a little sheepish. Was it silly to have kept so many of his things? Maybe you should have let Maverick take more of it out to the Mojave, but you just could never bear to let it go. You couldn’t ever let him go.

He said your name, and you saw a tear leak from the corner of his eye. You tried to smile. He pulled you into his arms again, and you wrapped your own around him tightly.

“I missed you so much,” he said, choking the words out. “Every day I was out there, all I could think about was coming home to you.”

“And you did,” you assured firmly, though you were sure you were nearly crying too. “You’re home now, Bradley. You’re safe.”

“I’m home,” he repeated, burying his nose in your hair.

You weren’t upset at the reminder that he was home either.

“I love you,” he said, and you started crying again. 

You had gone over a year without hearing those words from him. Hearing them now, in his voice, as he held you, was something you had thought you’d never get again. But here you were. You had gotten the miracle that not even Hallmark, in all its cheesiness, had dared to give their characters.

“Oh, my darling Bradley,” you barely breathed the words. “I love you too.”

Bonus:

“A round for the resurrected pilot?” Penny offered when you and Rooster made your way up to the bar the next night.

“We certainly won’t say no.” You winked, leaning against the wood counter.

“It’s on the house,” she said as she handed you two drinks. “Good to have you back, Rooster.”

“Thanks, Pen,” he said as you took the drinks and headed for the pool table. Maverick, who was sitting at the bar, patted the younger man on the shoulder as he passed.

The Dagger Squad was gathered around the pool table like always, their playful banter making you grin.

“So he found you after all,” Jake teased as you came over. “We were worried when he ran out so fast we couldn’t tell him you moved.”

“Is that so? You didn’t tell me you got lost.” You grinned, raising your eyebrows at your pilot.

“What can I say?” he paused to return your smile, “I was excited to see you.”

“I can’t fault you for that.” You tilted your chin up.

He took the hint gracefully, closing the distance to kiss you. You sighed contentedly against his lips. Bradley’s arm slid further around your waist, tugging you closer amidst the wolf whistles. You drank in the sensation of him filling all your senses.

“Alright, get a room already,” Hangman groaned. You guessed he was rolling his eyes.

Rooster deepened the kiss, just long enough to make a point, before pulling away and leaving you both breathless. You chased after his lips for another brief kiss, then you let him go, mostly to spare Jake. After all, Bradley had been guaranteed a few weeks off, and then several months before his next assignment away from you. You would have plenty of time to monopolize his attention.

The two of you were never far apart on a normal night at the Hard Deck. Tonight, you were practically joined at the hip, which you both needed.

At one point, Bradley went to get refills for the two of you. Somewhere in those few seconds, you looked over from your conversation with Hangman and didn’t see him. You tensed, searching the packed bar for his face.

Had you imagined his return? Had the pain of a year without him simply been too much for your mind to bear last night? It was entirely possible that your friends were humoring your delusion for today, hoping you would soon return to your senses. Bile rose in your throat as the thoughts raced faster.

Jake noticed your breath shortening almost immediately, and his steady hand on your shoulder pulled your attention to him.

“He’s right at the bar,” he reassured gently. He turned you so he could guide your gaze to Bradley, who stood alive and well, chatting with Penny while she got out your drinks. 

 You muttered a quick apology after a long breath, but he brushed it off lightly. The tightness in your chest eased only slightly as you tried to remember how to breathe.

When Bradley turned back, refills in hand, he saw your still wide-eyed expression and ducked toward you through the crowd faster. 

You were attached to his side the second he was close enough, only relaxing when his arm settled around your shoulders. He tugged you into his chest without hesitation. With your face pressed into his shirt, you sucked in a lungful of air. 

Hangman reassured and explained in Rooster’s ear, though you were too busy to listen for what he said. He gave your arm a quick squeeze before he returned to the game, giving the two of you your space.

Bradley had set the drinks down so he could wrap both arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head. Your fingers closed on a fistful of his shirt, as though if you let go, it would all have been a dream. He murmured hushed reassurances in your ear, words you didn’t process.

Truthfully, you didn’t need the words themselves. It was the sound of his voice and the solidness of him against you that brought you back. The scent of him filled your nose, and finally, you could breathe.

It hadn’t been a dream or a delusion of your yearning heart. He was really there, holding you. He had kept his promise after all.

Bradley held you until you pulled back, wiping at your eyes. He cupped your cheek, brushing gently under your eyes. You dragged your gaze to meet his and the concern you found there nearly broke your heart.

“I’m sorry, Roo,” you said quietly. He had just come home after what you were sure was a very trying year. He shouldn’t have to deal with you breaking down like this. Your apology, however, made his face scrunch as he shook his head.

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can only imagine how hard this year was for you.” He pressed his lips to your head for a long moment. “That’s not going to change overnight, I know that. Just promise me you’ll talk to me.”

“I will, I promise.” You nodded, taking in a slow breath of him to ground yourself. “I’m good now.”

You might have felt bad that your friends got your and Bradley’s refills for the rest of the night if weren’t so caught up in having him beside you again. Even when you were brought into separate conversations, his arm stayed around you, reminding you that he was there, alive with you. You spent much of the night just looking at him and hoped your friends understood why you weren’t paying hardly any attention to them. They did.

Inevitably, the jukebox got unplugged and Bradley made his way to the piano. He was a little rusty, but the way he sang, you knew it was something he had missed. You sat happily on his lap as he played. He kissed your shoulder, as he always did, and the last piece of you slotted back into place. Everything felt right at last.

Top Gun Taglist:

@malindacath @army24--7 @mads-weasley

[minhypen]

　　UHM, i'M SORRY. . .

This is long overdue, but please read till the end.

I promised to post the first chapter of my I-Land series 'Dream Glow' a frickin' two months back and it still isn't out. There are a few reasons for that, and though technically I don't owe anyone anything, I feel bad for the people on my taglist so I'm here to explain.

First things first, that chapter was written two months ago... And one month ago... And a week ago... And yesterday. I rewrote it a total of four times, changing the structure every time because I wasn't satisfied. For some reason, I kept feeling like the chapter was the first and last fanfic I'll ever write and was obsessed with making it perfect and well-rounded. And well, you can guess how it went for a procrastinator like me. But I started again yesterday, and I stopped worrying about making it perfect, because there's lich rally 10+ chapters in this series and I have five of them planned already. Other than that, I have planned a few other thing as well, which you can find on my WiPs list. EDIT: Not me forgetting to mention my other reason like a dumbass. The other reason is my college starting, which reduced my screentime drastically, so I'll prolly be less online for a while, at least until I get into a routine. So yeah, I'll probably post next weekend (for real this time, I promise), and I wanted to know if you guys wanted 3 chapters at once, or the first chapter and the two stand-alones I've planned (the romance:untold concept film and a riki focused fic, which is part of a drabble series). So please vote below, and thank you guys for your patience, really >3<

Special thanks to @enmi-luv my wifey dia for having so much patience with me. (I'll beta read for you and give you your spoilers soon baby)

I'll prolly only be online after a couple days, so until then, adios <3

[distort-opia]

Do you have any Joker recovery fic recs or any that explore his past?

Hey! Fics that focus on Joker's past are not very frequent, but I do have a couple of recs that I hold close to my heart:

+ if you can find me, i'm here by princegrantaire (Jack/Jeannie, rated T, one-shot, 3k words)

Summary: The very first time Jack’s on stage, front and centre, lit up by so many lights, he doesn’t say a single word. (A look at Jack Napier's sad little life right before ACE Chemicals intervenes.)

+ Again by Ruin (Lurkylurk) (Batjokes, rated T, one-shot, 1.5k words)

Summary: In his dreams that man keeps falling—and he keeps on failing. It has to be this way.

+ Courting Darkness by GrowingAHead (shelleyk0503) (Batjokes, two-parter, rated E, 13.2k words)

Summary: Set in the New 52 verse, “Zero Year: Secret City” (Issues #21-24). *Contains spoilers for that arc. As well as "Bright New Yesterday" (Issue #0) story in the book “The Graveyard Shift”. Before the Bat, before the fall into A.C.E chemical vat. Bruce tries to infiltrate the Red Hood Gang again undercover. He doesn’t realize that Red Hood One has a different kind of trap set for him. (… And Crane’s prototype fear gas ‘may’ had an effect slightly akin to that of an aphrodisiac in certain doses.)

These explore Joker before the fall into the acid, either in relation to Bruce or outside of it. The last one is basically Bruce and Red Hood One from Zero Year, not truly about exploring Joker's past, but it's got some great characterization and smut.

As to fics focusing on rehabilitation... I haven't read a lot, to be honest, since they aren't really my preference. There's Half Way Across by Dracze, the iconic and quintessential Batjokes rehabilitation fic, and I assume you probably already read it. Outside of that, I can point you towards two fics, although they don't much focus on Joker's past:

+ Atrophy by TimmyJayBird (Batjokes, multi-chapter, rated E, 68.6k words)

Summary: Bruce Wayne is out of options- leaving the Joker in Arkham simply ensures that the man will escape, and hit his city harder with each new visit. Out of desperation, he does the only thing he can think of- chooses to face the clown not as Batman, but simply Bruce, in an attempt to rehabilitate him into society. But the project turns even more dangerous when Bruce finds his obsession with the clown transcends his role as Batman- and when the clown returns the interest.

+ Don’t Mind if I Fall (Head Over Feet) by arrowinthesky (restfulsky5) (Batjokes, WIP, rated M, 25.7k words)

Summary: In the aftermath of great hurt, Bruce takes in a rehabilitated Joker, now known as Jack Napier, expecting the unwarranted generosity to distract him. Heal his own wounds. Ease his guilt. And it does. He just never figured on falling in love, too.

I guess my own fic, Falls the Shadow, is also exactly meant to be... Joker getting better through confronting his own past, but fair warning that it's a WIP and that it's been a while since the last update. It's not abandoned and I'm working on it! It's just that I can't promise anything as of yet, with the way my brain is being.

Anyway! Anyone who has recommendations that fit this description is also more than welcome to add to this post, and if you read these fics-- hope you enjoy, Anon. Don't forget to leave the authors some love <3

[highfiveheroes]

HELLO HELLO HELLO! some ch2 spoilers in here, so answer at any pace you choose, but: the entire buddy-with-a-knife scene (starting with "ee're out of rice") for the fic commentary ask. that WILL be living in my head and heart and soul forever, and it's CHILLING. please tell me all about it.

I LOVE THIS SCENEEEEEE this is going under the cut because it's gonna be LONG but!!! could not be more pleased to yell about this whole interaction

"We’re out of rice," Oisin announces. Ivy, who’s sitting at the bar sketching out their map, sighs.

"I thought Jace was getting us some?"

"Nope," Ruben says. He’s on the windowsill, his guitar draped across his lap as he picks a few chords over and over. "I didn’t tell him to. Nobody told me we were out."

this little intro scene is just. i LOVE writing everyone as a crew. they could all be somewhere else, if they really wanted, but why would they? i've talked before (and plenty of other people have made posts about it as well) regarding the sunk-cost fallacy of "we're in this together, we might as well stick around and see it through, we can't get away from it even if we wanted". ruben doesn't NEED to be playing his guitar around everyone, but he does, because he likes the company. oisin and ivy are always together. mary ann just likes having a place to sit. buddy and oisin are cooking together—they're probably the competent ones, the ones that have family recipes, etc. so it's like no, they don't NEED to all be together, but they do it anyway—and kipperlilly specifically needs to feel important, so she hangs around them, "supervising". also of note—ruben has to be Very Responsible. at this point porter and jace have pseudo-moved in, but the entire rest of the year there's been NO adult supervision, so he's had to be in charge of groceries and maintenance which is,,,, an issue. now that he has someone else he gives them all the things to worry about and takes a backseat, so he's missed way more. (plus, with him and buddy...yeah <3)

Buddy is by the stove, chopping meat or something. Kipperlilly happens to notice him stiffening, but she doesn’t think much of it for a moment.

"I didn’t even think we went through that much rice," Ivy mumbles, going back to her map.

"I made soup yesterday," Mary Ann reminds them, her game making a little cheering noise. "I told Oisin."

Kipperlilly doesn’t know where Jace is. She doesn’t think it’s important. It’s not. Right?

the little bits interspersed are so important to me as one of those "build the tension" choices. tell the action, have mundane thoughts, but the thoughts CANNOT give into the concern. if you don't think about it, it isn't happening! buddy's starting to look angry—i wonder where jace is. we're out of rice—buddy is just cutting meat. that's all. y'know? LOVED this trick it was very fun to write

"Well, fuck that, then. I guess we’re having pizza or something if there’s any in the fridge," Oisin mumbles.

Nobody’s left the house in days. Kipperlilly is standing by the doorway to the living room, surveying everyone like she always does. There’s something in the air, and it starts to get thicker when she sees Buddy slowly turn to Oisin.

another foreshadowing moment right? kipperlilly sees the writing on the wall, and she could probably say something, but she chooses not to. why would she? it's not going to affect her really. right? they're all in this together whether they want to be or not. but also, her judgement is so skewed now that there's a genuine chance that she doesn't see how severe the issue is until it's too late.

(and then maybe there's a sick part of her that likes seeing someone else's perfect façade crack. but that's subject to analysis at a different time. in fact, i could write a whole essay about my takes on buddy and kipperlilly as foils and why they'd be the perfect partners for ruben in a different life i mean what)

"No rice?" he asks. His voice is tight.

Oisin doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t seem worried. Kipperlilly wonders if he’s just stupid to have not felt the energy change.

"No rice," he confirms, shutting the cabinet. "So no fried rice for dinner."

"And no one thought to check for the ingredients beforehand?" Buddy asks. His voice is too calm. Kipperlilly’s hackles are raised.

He hasn’t put the knife down. It’s shaking in Buddy’s grip.

"Didn’t think we had to. My bad." Oisin raises his hands sarcastically, shaking them, and he doesn’t turn fast enough to see Buddy lunge at him, taking the knife, plunging it into his heart, dragging it down so that the fabric of his shirt and the scales of his chest rip with a sickening sound. Oisin chokes, gurgling, but it’s too late. He goes down before anyone else can react.

Kipperlilly saw all of it. She feels sick.

"Next time," Buddy announces, throwing the knife down, "we ought to check for ingredients before you make me start cutting up one of our Lord’s great creatures. Someone get started on that pizza." He looks down, sneering. "Otherwise, I might get a little hungry for something with scales."

THIS. so like. the take i have taken with the rage gems is that they slowly start to deteriorate the body they're in the longer they're in there. in the jace fics, you can see it REALLY evidently in how fast he spirals—like a parasite, right? and the more angry he gets, the more anger it wants the next time. it's like those little toys you get that are packed sand that you're supposed to chip away at. even saturated with water they're very hard to chip apart, until it All Crumbles At Once. goes to follow > kipperlilly had it first, but she accepted it, so her rate is slightly altered. jace had it the next longest, he starts losing it first. nobody else has the anger issues they have, but the catharsis of killing again and again is starting to accelerate it.

but buddy? who's only had the gem for a few days? he was so angry it happened in the first place, that his spiral has...well, he's much further along than kipperlilly at this point, let's say that. and it's only been a few days.

but he's got to act on it, right? he's spent so long without getting angry at all, and then he was so furious that when he finally was taken inventory of, his base rate was NOWHERE where it normally is. so his spiral takes him So Far Away from who he normally is. his personality does a complete 180.

but he's also spent so long working with the passive aggressive niceties of the church of helio (read: that sweet and southern "bless your heart" attitude, obfuscating what you really want to say and how you feel, etc) that he's brilliant at it with everyone else. but he's spent a year watching these fuckers kill each other in cold blood for things like cereal milk. he can let go with them. and let go he does!!!

Ivy, who also had a front-row seat to her best friend’s murder, looks deathly pale as she gags, then runs out of the room. She’s never seen Oisin murdered like that before, Kipperlilly remembers. Her own lips shake as she licks them.

"He’s gonna stain the floor," Mary Ann says. She didn’t look up.

this is another one of those moments that is just. they're kids, being kids. hanging out. right? and there's a LOT happening behind the scenes that kipperlilly hasn't been privy to of her own accord (ie. too dialed into her own shit...like a certain wannabe god.)

kipperlilly doesn't bother herself with details like who cleans up all the blood and violence. ruben probably has cleaners, right? but even if he doesn't, it genuinely doesn't have any affect on her if mary ann is the one on her knees scrubbing the blood out of the carpet and the tile and the walls. it started when she was the one causing the biggest messes, and it ended when oisin landed on the floor in this scene. she can mop it up, but there's no point in stopping it from staining. (to be fair, mary ann would never TELL kipperlilly or anyone this, so kip may not have even known even if she showed signs of empathy.)

and then...ivy. sweet ivy, who has been crushing on oisin since they were thirteen and is properly in love with him now and pissed that he won't notice her because he's so obsessed with adaine abernant. and she knew they wouldn't make it out of here alive, but when someone like ruben kills oisin, it's not quite so...vicious. there's a layer of respect still, one of those "i respect you still, you can kill me this way later, we'll be okay, this isn't personal." but with buddy there's none of that. this is his first murder (yay!) and he just fucking BODIES oisin for something that wasn't even really his fault, and the fact that they HEAR it? and it brings up a second point she hasn't been aware of—that she may have to watch oisin die. there's SO MUCH MORE with oisin and ivy that i'm getting into when i get to writing their aside for this universe but like...guys. this was brutal for more reasons than just what it appears. and kipperlilly misses ALL OF IT.

"You’re the cleric," Kipperlilly reminds Buddy, her voice surprisingly steady. "You have to revive him."

Buddy glares at her with such vitrol that she physically steps away. "I’m aware. I will do it when I’m ready. I have ten minutes, don’t I?"

Kipperlilly almost argues, but it’s easier to just nod. Buddy takes the meat he was cutting and dumps it in the sink, turning on the disposal and leaving it running as he pushes past Kipperlilly into the rest of the house. She doesn’t look at Oisin; Mary Ann is probably right, and the tile is probably going to be stained worse than it was before, but she doesn’t look to see how much blood there is. For the first time, she doesn’t think she can stomach it.

She decides to give it eight minutes before she bothers Buddy about it again, so she starts counting.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…

okay this!!! i am not the most familiar with dnd mechanics, but (as you and i have discussed previously jade LOL) this is definitely a moment of the cleric realizing he can play god. he's in control of life or death in a way he hasn't been before, and he's spent all year watching these fuckers turn on each other, and he's taking the chance of "oisin is probably going to stabilize, and if he doesn't, i'll deal with it later." i think they have a 10 minute rule amongst the group because after that it can verge into actual feelings of mourning, and that's not fun for anyone involved. (yes, it's usually an immediate revive, but the ten minute thing is something they've all had discussions about when it's brought up, so like. it's still a fact, even if they've never used the full ten minutes before.)

and the counting...i've noticed that i have a habit of incorporating some of those "calming yourself down" tricks into characters who are vaguely unstable. i think it makes sense for kipperlilly though, that when she's scared or upset, jawbone had tried to encourage her to take that moment of "try counting, get your mind onto something steady with an end goal, see if that doesn't help" sort of thing. so she gives herself a set time limit and starts counting, and that way she doesn't have to worry about the body on the floor.

(another note though: kipperlilly is for sure also haunted by what the hell just happened, because she came to the same conclusion that ivy did, that rage-starred buddy is a completely different beast than regular buddy and it probably shook her down to her core. just a fun little thing <3)

so!! i intentionally didn't include a lot in this scene, but it's also SO FUCKING MUCH to me. personally. there's a lot happening behind the scenes that's going to come out in later chapters and asides, but. god i love this. thank you for asking and letting me ramble LMAO

[suna1suna1]

Never Like in the Books | MD Oneshot

Finale spoilers!

Angst

N/V (kinda, one-sided)

N/Uzi (Background)

Just a little bit of angst, but it's not too sad I don't think. I have a goal for after this, and it's semi-related to this fic I posted yesterday

V didn't like talking about it much, but she was a book nerd. She enjoyed reading a lot of things, but... weirdly enough, she hated sad endings. Maybe it was because they reminded her too much of her own life. Her and N's story had ended the moment the Solver had come into their lives. They just didn't notice. 

Well, V didn't think N had ever noticed that it had even started. 

Not that it mattered now. At least she could escape into books, where no one disappointed you. Where the hero always got whomever they were in love with, always had more people in love with them than they knew what to do with. In books, V could escape herself. Could escape the memories and the Solver and... Become a little closer to whom she used to be. 

"Hey!" 

She looked up from her book to find N sitting on the floor next to her in the landing pod, grinning. "Watcha reading?" 

V narrowed her eyes, more out of habit now than any real malice. Uzi had been the primary Solver host for a while now, and she seemed to be keeping it well under control. That, and Cyn was dead. She no longer had any reason to keep N at arms length, but she still caught herself doing it. 

Not that it had ever really worked. N had a weird way of worming his way into everyone's hearts. Except J's, though V had never understood her hatred of him even in the mansion. 

"Nothing," she replied. "Just some trash I found in their bags." V gestured to a couple of frozen human corpses she'd dragged into the pod. One of them had been wearing a cute skirt that was surprisingly in decent condition, and if Lizzy didn't want it, V certainly did. 

The "trash" in question was a dystopian YA novel, and honestly, it was pretty decent. The characters were okay, and the plot was cool. All in all, she would rate it a solid three point five out of five. 

N tilted his head to try and get a look at the cover. "Could I borrow it when you're done with it?" he asked. 

V shrugged. "Sure. But isn't Uzi trying to show you that one manga where like, the humans have to eat other humans and stuff? I don't know, I wasn't listening when she tried to tell me about it." 

"She is! But we can't find the next volume." 

"Oh, that's always the worst." 

N groaned. "Right? And we left off on a huge cliffhanger!" 

"What was it called again?" V asked. If she knew the name she might be able to help them find a copy somewhere. 

"I... I forgot." 

V laughed quietly. "Don't let Uzi catch you saying that," she said. 

N chuckled, then his smile faded. "You haven't really been around much. Are you doing okay, V?" 

Wow... That was abrupt. 

V sighed. "Kinda?" she said. "It's... weird that Cyn's just... gone. You know? I spent... so long doing everything I could to protect you from her, to appease her just so she wouldn't kill you. And I guess... I feel... kinda useless now. Like, my whole reason for holding on, for still existing, is gone." 

"Well, that's kinda cool, isn't it?" N said. "You get to choose what you want to do!" 

V smiled and shook her head. "Yeah, but that's just it. I have no clue what I want to do. Well... Actually, I do know, but it's not happening so like... Who cares?" 

"I do," N replied. "What is it?" 

V looked at him, and she immediately realized that was a mistake because he was giving her the damn puppy eyes. She sighed. "It's nothing," she said. "Like I said, it's not happening." 

"You don't know that!" 

"Yeah, I think I do, N." You're already with her. "Can I read my book now?" 

N seemed to deflate, and even though she'd seen that look over and over again through the years, it still made her core feel like it was breaking in two. "Okay," he said. "You still up for that scavenging run later?" 

V nodded and turned back to her book, and N stood up and left the pod. 

Yeah, she got enough sad endings in her life. What was one more onto the pile? 

[love-overdrive]

Ordinary Miss Yazawa Pt. 1

Summary: The house for sale next door to the Higashikata's was quickly bought by someone. Josuke wonders who it could possibly be before he finally gets to meet his new neighbor, a young woman named Mary Yazawa. However, Tomoko can't help but think something doesn't add up with this new arrival.

Relationship: Platonic! Tomoko and Josuke Higashikata x OC (gen- no romance)

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.5k

Notes: Nothing I think needs to be warned about. Mostly bantering between Tomoko and Josuke (I love them dearly). No spoilers for Part 4.

A/n: Aaaaa my first fic with my oc <3 please enjoy! More information on my OCs can be found on my pinned posts. Concrit is always appreciated and welcome, too.

You can read this on my AO3 here!

(Please feel free to let me know if you'd like to be tagged whenever I post a new work!)

“Huh? Someone bought that house already?” Koichi pointed to the ‘for sale’ sign that had a big ‘SOLD’ sticker slapped over it. “I thought they only put it out a few days ago.” 

“Who’s that desperate to come here?” Okuyasu commented, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough,” Josuke sighed. “Mom said that no one even came by to look inside.” 

“Damn, real desperate.” 

“Why would you buy a house without looking inside it?” Koichi pondered. “What if you don’t even like the inside? Isn’t that kind of a waste?” 

“How should I know?” Josuke shrugged. “I mean… at the end of the day, it’s just a house, right? You just go home and sit there. It’s not like these houses are bad or anything.” 

“But what if you wanted a big one!” Okuyasu shouted. “I know I want a huge living room in mine. Something awesome for parties.” 

Koichi tapped his chin. “Well, if we’re talking about what we want in houses… maybe many rooms. One for a library to put all my manga, a guest room for my family if they want to stop by, and rooms if you want to start a family.” 

“I would want a huge fridge,” Josuke added. 

“The fridge isn’t part of the house, dude! You buy that!” 

“What? No way, when we moved in our house, the fridge was there!” 

“That’s because your grandpa had bought it…” Koichi grimaced at the two. Josuke pouted for a moment at Koichi’s correction before waving his hand. 

“Well, that’s not the point! It’s still kinda weird to buy a house without looking at it!” 

“Who do you think bought it?” Okuyasu’s eyes widened. “What if it’s secretly a celebrity?” 

“Why would a celebrity come to live here?” 

“Damn,” Okuyasu deflated. “You’re right, you’re right.” 

“It’s probably just a family.” Koichi stated. “Probably couldn’t afford the prices in places like Tokyo and so they would come here to pay a cheaper rent or mortgage.” 

“How do you know so much about houses in Tokyo?” Josuke raised a brow. Koichi bashfully smiled and chuckled. 

“I saw it on the news yesterday. Apparently prices have been going crazy over there.” 

“Whoever bought this house probably has no clue what’s been going on here, though. I kinda feel bad,” Josuke commented. “I’m sure we’ll meet them soon. I just hope they’re not totally annoying or something.” 

Scratch that thought. It was not even 8 am on a Saturday and already the moving trucks next door had bothered Josuke. He sandwiched his head in between his pillow and huffed. Who the hell moves in so early?! 

Already cranky from being woken up, he glanced to his mirror and noticed his hair was a mess. What a great way to the start the day. He opened the window and was about to give his new neighbor a piece of his mind when he saw a young woman twirling her hair while the movers unloaded the truck. 

“Wait, careful with those ones, please,” she pointed at a box with the word ‘fragile’ on them. “Those were like, pretty expensive.” 

“Yes ma’am!” The men nodded, making her grin widely. 

“Thanks~, you guys are so sweet,” she replied, continuing to watch them. “Uh, put that box by the kitchen, and that one by the window.” 

Josuke raised a brow as he watched the scene. His new neighbor was definitely not what he expected them to be. 

He didn’t realize he was staring until the woman called out to him and waved. 

“Yoo-hoo!” She cheerfully yelled from below. “Hello! I’m your new neighbor!” 

He was taken aback by her peppy attitude- seriously, it was 8 am on a Saturday- but waved back awkwardly. “N-nice to meet you.” 

“Sorry for all the noise, I hope I didn’t disturb you!” 

“It’s alright, not like I was sleeping or anything,” he lied, feeling guilty at the thought of unleashing his previous anger at her. Josuke had to wonder how she was up this early. Was anyone else ever- 

“Josuke, who the hell are you talking to right now?” Tomoko snapped from the hallway. “What did I tell you about hogging the phone?” 

Right. How could he forget? 

“I’m not on the phone, mom,” he tiredly replied. Tomoko swung open the door without a second thought, only to find her son indeed was not on the phone, but still in his tanktop and pajama pants and leaning out the window. 

“Then what are you…?” She shook her head and strode over to the window, looking to see a slightly confused but smiling young woman. “O-oh! You must be our new neighbor. Welcome!” 

The woman chuckled and nodded. “Thank you. I’m happy to be here. If it’s not too much, I have some gifts for you all. Can I drop by soon to introduce myself properly?” 

Tomoko nodded quickly. “Of course, yes, you can. Stay for some tea, too!” 

“I’d love that! I have to finish with this, but give me about… um… like… three hours and I’ll be over,” the woman replied, waving one last time before turning around and ordering the men to drop off another set of boxes in a specific place. 

“I love her shoes,” Tomoko mumbled to herself as she closed the window. 

“I didn’t think it would just be some woman. I thought it would be a family,” Josuke rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. 

“I didn’t expect that, either,” Tomoko casually replied. “That being said, what the hell were you thinking!” 

Josuke’s eyes widened at his mother’s harsh tone. “What? What did I do?” 

“What did you do? You just introduced yourself to our new neighbor in your pajamas! Do you know how bad that makes us look? We have to make a good impression, not make her think we’re a bunch of slobs or something!” 

Tomoko frantically paced around Josuke’s room. 

“It’s not that big a deal. It’s just our neighbor. Not like she’ll die if she sees me like this,” Josuke sighed, knowing his mother’s rant would continue. 

“I can’t believe this. I knew she’d be here today, but I was trying to plan a welcome visit and everything, and now it’s all ruined! Now she thinks my son is a delinquent who just sits in his pajamas all day and that we’re a bunch of bums!” 

“I really doubt she thinks-” 

“No, no, no. Fix yourself up, now. I want you to put on your best clothes and make the best impression you can.” 

“But it’s so early and I’m tired! She won’t even be here for another few hours and it takes me less than five minutes to get ready!” 

“No. You will not be sleeping right now, you will be cleaning yourself up and- oh, for the love of god- clean up your room, will you?” Tomoko gagged as she stepped on a pile of Josuke’s dirty clothes. 

“She’s not coming in my room!” 

“What if she asks to see it, hm? You’re just gonna let her walk in and see how messy your room is?” 

“Why would she be in my room in the first place?” Josuke retorted exasperatedly. “She’s coming to have tea, not a house tour!” 

“That doesn’t matter! What if she wants a house tour? You don’t say no to your guests! Now clean up, that’s final!” Tomoko pointed at Josuke, leaving no room for any disagreement. Josuke rolled his eyes as Tomoko slammed the door shut behind her, leaving a grumbling and exhausted Josuke. 

Well… she won’t know if I sleep for another fifteen minutes, right? 

All too quickly, a fifteen minute power nap became an almost three hour long sleep. He only woke up due to hearing the door knocking, and that’s when all the panic set in. 

“Josuke, she’s here!” Tomoko called from downstairs. 

Shit! He thought as he tumbled out of bed and threw off his pajamas. “C-coming! Give me a sec!” 

Knowing his mother would get on his case about his clothes, he rummaged through his closet for anything nice he had that wasn’t a huge, wrinkled mess. He settled, for some reason, on his school uniform and threw it on haphazardly, nearly tripping over himself as he went to grab his comb from his mirror. 

He already knew he was taking too long, and he could hear his mother’s threatening tone when she called his name again, despite Tomoko trying to hide it under a veneer of saccharine sweetness. Josuke barely managed to get himself ready before he almost fell down the stairs to greet their new neighbor. 

“Well, you know teenagers, always doing their own thing-” Tomoko said to the woman, not realizing (or, more likely, not caring) that Josuke was in earshot. Tomoko placed a cup of tea for both her and the woman, who graciously thanked her. 

“I don’t mind, really. It’s good that they’re taking a moment to like, explore and stuff,” the woman mused. Up close, Josuke could get a better look at the woman. She had dark brown hair that went to her shoulder, but curled upwards at the ends of it. She wasn’t as pale as Tomoko, and her face was covered in freckles and beauty marks. Large, gold hoop earrings dangled from her lobes while her eyes had on some eyeliner and blue eyeshadow, which coincidentally, matched the baby blue sweater she wore. 

Josuke cleared his throat awkwardly so his mother could introduce him. Tomoko turned to him with a smile before her face fell. She shot him a death glare when she noticed how slovenly his appearance looked- a warning for what was to come after their guest had left. 

“Miss Yazawa, this is my son, Josuke. Josuke, this is Miss Yazawa.” 

Josuke bowed politely. “Nice to see you again.” 

“It’s nice to see you, too. But, you know, I’m not at work and I’m still pretty young, so you can just call me Mary,” Mary casually stated. Tomoko shook her head to Josuke, telling him not to do so. “And since you’re both here now, I hope it’s alright for me to give you my gift?” 

Mary pulled out a pink box wrapped with a golden, glittery bow. Josuke leaned over curiously, wondering what was inside. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to give us something this big,” Tomoko said as she took the box. “I’ll just set it aside and-” 

“Oh no, feel free to open it! I think it’ll go great with the tea!” Mary giggled. 

Tomoko undid the bow and opened the box, gasping alongside Josuke as they saw many tarts, macarons, and other desserts they couldn’t even name within it. 

“W-wait a minute, this can’t be,” Tomoko quickly said as she examined the cover she just removed. “Is this really from that French bakery? Patisserie Chic? That one?” 

Mary nodded. “Yeah. I heard it was good. Have you tried it before?” She asked, fiddling with her cup. Both of them shook their head. Patisserie Chic was hailed as the bakery in Morioh, but it was, frankly, very expensive. As a teacher and single mom, Tomoko just didn’t have the funds to splurge that much on a slice of cake or a cookie. 

Especially not a whole box of them…

“No, we haven’t.” 

“Well, then that means it’s the perfect time to try them!” Mary grinned, clasping her hands together. 

All of them took a pastry and took a bit. Josuke and Tomoko gasped at the taste and covered their mouths. 

“Mmm! This is amazing!” Tomoko said, not caring she was talking with her mouth full. 

“Mhm! Sho good!” Josuke agreed, chomping down on the sweet. 

“I guess they were right,” Mary hummed, taking a small, ladylike bite of her pastry. She didn’t react much to the taste, but neither Tomoko or Josuke were paying attention. 

After indulging in her sweet, Tomoko wiped her mouth and looked at Mary. “So, Miss Yazawa, what made you move all the way to Morioh?” 

“Oh, it wasn’t a big deal or anything,” Mary responded. “I wanted to experience more things, so I took a position at the bank as their receptionist.” 

Tomoko raised a brow. “You moved from…” 

“Shibuya,” Mary answered. 

“Shibuya,” Tomoko repeated. Explains the makeup. “You moved from Shibuya… to here? For a receptionist job?” 

“Yes,” Mary nodded casually. Josuke tried to imagine what that would feel like, but he couldn’t think of anything. He loved Morioh, would live here forever, no questions asked- but moving here from Shibuya? That seemed a bit crazy. 

“I heard the housing prices and mortgages are high over there,” Josuke commented, trying to keep the conversation going. He’d thank Koichi later for that. Tomoko shot him a confused look, wondering why the hell her son, who was always too busy playing video games and could never clean his room, was suddenly discussing mortgages. 

“Yeah, they are. Morioh looks like a nice change of pace. I do like the quieter towns, too. And everyone’s been pretty friendly so far.” 

“It’s a very nice town, even if it’s smaller than what you’re probably used to,” Tomoko replied. “I hope I’m not coming off as too rude or anything, but are you living with anyone? A fiance or a husband? I didn’t see anyone else with you right now.” 

“Oh, no, I live alone. Again, I just moved for work and stuff,” Mary answered, not at all offended by the question. Josuke briefly wondered if all Shibuya women were like her. He did like that she was a bit more casual than some of the ladies here. 

“You are? I didn’t expect that. You look very young. I’m surprised you aren’t with someone,” Tomoko gasped, starting to feel her previous holdups wear down. Even though she was stern at times, she still was a young woman, too, and she hadn’t talked to another woman her age in a while like this. 

“I just haven’t found the right guy, you know?” Mary explained. “Like, I’m usually pretty busy with my job, so sometimes I just don’t have the time to really meet guys. My supervisor once said I should try a small town guy once in a while, instead of the big city ones.” 

“They’re pretty rough, aren’t they?” Tomoko replied. Mary nodded in agreement. 

“Right? Some of them are so pushy and don’t even listen when I talk,” Mary sighed. “All they do is talk about finances or the stock market or something, like, can we just talk about anything else?” 

“And don’t they always complain about you working, too?” 

“They do!” 

Josuke cleared his throat as the two women got caught up in their conversation, making them both silently return to their previous positions. 

“Well, in any case, this is a pretty nice place to settle down in. I don’t think you’ll have many complaints here,” Tomoko said casually. 

Josuke, wanting to be involved after sitting around boredly, looked at Mary. “So, Mar- Miss Yazawa, how old are you, anyways?” 

“Josuke!” Tomoko hissed, glaring at him. Mary giggled again and waved it off. 

“20,” she answered. 

“W-wait, 20?” Tomoko and Josuke said at the same time. 

“Yeah. Is there like… something wrong?” Mary cocked her head to the side. 

“No, I just… I didn’t think you’d be that young,” Tomoko responded, the surprise evident on her face. She mumbled a, “you could be my daughter at that age…”

“Woah, you moved out and everything by yourself at 20?” Josuke’s eyes sparkled, seemingly impressed with the fact she could do all that. 

“Mhm. It’s nothing crazy. I know lots of people who do the same.” 

Before Josuke could talk more, the phone began ringing. 

“Josuke, answer the phone, will you?” Tomoko asked. Josuke looked at the house phone attached to the wall and raised a brow. 

“It’s not ringing,” he replied, seeing as there was no light flashing on it. 

“No, that’s me, sorry,” Mary chuckled. “Is it alright if I take this call over there?” 

Tomoko was about to nod before her and Josuke gasped again at seeing Mary pull out a large, thick cellphone. They huddled together as Mary walked to the living room to answer. 

“Is that a-” 

“No way-” the two whispered to each other. 

“How the hell can she afford a cellphone?” 

“It’s the newest Nokia, too. I heard you can use it all around the world!” Josuke said with wide eyes. 

“Are receptionists really paid that much?” Tomoko asked. “Maybe I should consider a career switch.” 

“It’s not fair, how can she get a cellphone at 20, but I can’t?” Josuke whined. 

“I don’t even have a cellphone! Why would I get you one?” 

“Because… pleeease?” Josuke gave Tomoko his best puppy dog eyes before she shook her head. 

“No way. You don’t need a cellphone to waste more time on. You’re already slacking on your chores and schoolwork.” 

“Come on, I promise, I’ll do all my chores if I get one!” 

“No.” 

Josuke rolled his eyes and slumped against the seat. “One day, I’m gonna get one. And when I move out, I will not be yelled at about my room.” 

“You have to actually go to college and get a job for that,” Tomoko teased. 

“I will! You’ll see!” 

The two bickered a bit longer before Mary came back, Nokia in hand. Mary, true to her youthful age, had decorated her phone with some rhinestones and two pink phone charms. Josuke wondered once more if women in Shibuya did this sort of thing. They must be loaded. Or bored.

“Sorry about that, my supervisor was calling.” 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, just some things are gonna need to be done sooner than expected. But, not a huge deal. I’ll just pull an all-nighter or something,” Mary shrugged. 

“Ugh, never mind about me getting a job,” Josuke joked. 

“Aw, work isn’t so bad. It’s kinda fun!” Mary replied, a wide grin on her face. 

Josuke lost track of the time until Mary had left, citing her need to begin unpacking and organizing her house. Once she was gone, Tomoko folded her arms and stared quizzically at the door. 

“Something up, mom?” Josuke asked, wondering why she was just standing by their door. 

“I just can’t put my finger on it, honestly.” 

“Put your finger on what?”

“Obviously, I mean Miss Yazawa.” 

“What about her?” 

“I don’t normally like to gossip about others but something’s a bit strange about her, don’t you think?” 

Josuke shook his head. “Nah.” 

“What do you mean, ‘nah’?” Tomoko deadpanned. 

“Was there something weird about her?” Josuke scratched his cheek. 

“I mean, the fact that she lived in Shibuya and then decided to move here for a receptionist job, her being only 20, having a new cellphone- none of that was off to you?” 

“Is it supposed to be off to me?” 

“Well, yeah, it’s not really…” Tomoko paused, scrunching her nose at what she was tryna say. “Oh god… am I getting old?” 

“What?” Josuke shouted, confused where his mother would get that idea from. “What does this gotta do with anything?” 

“I think I’m getting too old. I know I look younger than my age-” 

“So humble.” 

“Quiet. But, jeez, she’s only 20! Are younger women these days working that hard and doing that much?” 

“I guess?” Josuke replied, not knowing much about women. “Maybe it’s what the women do in Shibuya.” 

“It’s gotta be that. I heard they got some crazy stuff going on there,” Tomoko commented, fanning herself. “And I guess you would need to work extra hard to afford that place.” 

“So then, it’s just cuz she’s from Shibuya.” 

Tomoko let out a breath, before nodding. “Yeah. Shibuya. Must be a Shibuya thing.” 

“So that settles it then?” Tomoko hummed back. “And you’re not worried about being old?” 

Tomoko tried to remain serious, but her lips twitched upwards as she let out a short laugh. “No. I’m good. I guess even the way I did things when I was her age was unconventional, too.” She rubbed the back of her neck. 

Josuke knew what she was referring to and pursed his lips. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.” 

“And I wouldn’t have you any other way, either. Mmm… maybe just a cleaner room but that can be worked on.” 

“Whatever,” Josuke laughed. 

“But, really, you should go clean your room. And if you have time one day, you should go stop by her house and help.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s just a good thing to do. She’s all by herself and she probably needs help moving things around.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that tomorrow. I’ll call Koichi and Okuyasu over, too, since they wanted to know who it was.” 

Tomoko smiled, a proud look on her face. Josuke gave a questioning expression back. “Why’re you smiling like that?” 

“Nothing,” Tomoko shook her head before sighing wistfully. “I guess I just realized that you’re really becoming a man.” 

Josuke’s face softened alongside his mother’s. Well, he wasn’t really all that eager to do so, but maybe helping Miss Yazawa wouldn’t be so bad if this is how his mom would react. 

[andthebubbles]

gonna do something totally novel tonight (haha) ... i am gonna put a/b fic away!!! i edited ch 14 tonight and it's okay, still needs a bit more editing here and there but it's nothing massive, so that's... good. and then the next part needs some thinking/headcanoning...

like i think i could use humboldt (making him the butler in this universe) to stop benedict from sneaking out to see anthony, and also maybe berbrooke could throw a ball as an official introduction for himself into society as the baron... and maybe i can drop some hints via that (like maybe just that he was educated at harrow?)... and violet can be well-meaningly pushy when she finds out that benedict danced three dances with someone at the ball... AND his mystery friend supposedly punched someone lol. a lot to plan i guess, or like, ... use the upcoming stuff to set up the next part. and also i suppose benedict (and violet) might have to go to more than one event, with perhaps a few days break in between, or........ well, idk.

in the more immediate future, i need to plan out what frederick is gonna say to like, ... set this in motion lol (like, re right where i'm up to in the fic/how to get benedict to convincingly yeet anthony off to an inn (i mean i have some idea, but my brain is kinda scrambled today so i don't want to write it now))

mmkay! so i shut the fic doc :O i think i sorta have an upper limit of 3-4 consecutive days (four in this case) of writing before my brain sorta needs a break.

sims 4 news!! well, not news, but i've been watching deligracy's apartment renos, and i wanna open up the game now and try and do a reno on one of the apartments, because she did it in a particular way and the second bedroom looked like a closet, so i wonder if i could put the two bedrooms on the other side of the apartment since i don't mind pipes in the bedroom... (and then i want to make a family and have as many kids as i can cram into the tiny apartment hahaha)

aaaaaaaaaaaas for bridgerton 3x01 spoilers, i read a whole twitter thread of them yesterday, and i'll probably say this on another post when we get closer to the release date, but the four things i'm most looking forward to in s3 are these:

any scenes with anthony

any scenes with benedict

any scenes with anthony and benedict (there are (at least?) two in the first ep!!!! i'm so happy!! skjdnskJNKJNFGKJGN WHY DID I HAVE TO FIND THIS OUT MYSELF??)

CRELOISE OMG. i didn't know i needed creloise until the trailer dropped and now i'm so looking forward to it! i need cressida to be an evil bitch and skfjgnfkg if she gets a softer side on-screen, then that'll be interesting (but if she doesn't, that's... okay (maybe a missed opportunity haha); anyway if there's enough material/i am inspired enough, I WILL BE WRITING FIC and then maybe i'll put a softer side into her if i want to, aaaaaaaaaaaaaah (kinda interested in a non-sexual power play thing between them, then moving to sexual... but skjfngkfg let's see when s3 drops. suuuuper interesting that they've been hanging out in the country during the off-season :3)

[dufrau]

spoilers i guess for that fic i posted yesterday

but the thing about when nancy says youve got to get your shit together is like, it's not meant to be critical at all. and robin maybe interprets it as criticism to some extent, but that's okay because its also just true, regardless of how its intended. and the end result will be the same anyway, and it was the right thing to say, anyway, and she knows all of that.

but what nancy means is first of all you deserve to be happier than this. and second of all if we do this as a rebound it will probably do the opposite of fix anything or make you happier. it means im maybe one step ahead of you right now on the path towards having my shit together but its further enough along to see that you definitely need to take that step before you take any other steps. and it means you are worth waiting for.

[samisnotlegend]

I think you mentioned in a post yesterday that you're always open to receiving questions about your fics, so today I have a question about See You Soon.

You probably don't plan to write a sequel, but do you have any headcanons about what happens to bakudeku after they get married? (Is it even a headcanon if it's coming from the author?)

I just think their story is interesting and their dynamic so cute and want to know more about them as well as your writing process! And if you have no headcanons, what was your favorite part about writing this specific fic?

Oh what a FANTASTIC question!! Thank you so much for asking!!!! Okay this got a little long. A summary and ramblings of SYS's possible sequel under the cut!!!

Alright so: See You Soon. I have definitely toyed with the idea of writing a sequel, actually. I still might do it, but I have so many other upcoming fics and oneshots that I don't mind spoiling it, because if a SYS sequel does happen, it is a loooong way off. (Also, it would focus more on smut than on the plot which I outline here. So! Spoilers are fine!)

Anyway, the wedding is very happy. Katsuki has another mini-meltdown on the alter, because he is out-of-his-mind happy that he gets to marry Izuku. Izuku cries too, obviously. Almost immediately after the ceremony, they sneak off into a coat closet. Mistuki eventually yanks them out and makes them attend their own party.

At the reception, there is a little bit of drama. I won't get into everything here, but let's just say that bkdk foil a certain plan of Dabi's, and Izuku is immediatley able to prove his loyalty to Katsuki, the Bakugou clan, and also help Shouto out. (This actually almost made it into the main fic, but it was already so long lol.)

Party continues on, and Mitsuki eventually kicks Izuku and Katsuki out of their own party because they're having a hard time keeping their hands off of each other.

Then after that... bkdk take over the Bakugou family! It genuinely goes well. Katsuki is the hard, outwardly cold boss, and Izuku is his perfect foil. Diplomatic and outwardly-soft and kind. Of course, everyone who is anyone knows that Katsuki is also incredibly soft, and Izuku is also incredibly badass. But their fronts and reputations work well.

Sero and Shouto get married. Yay! There is a foiled assassination attempt once or twice, as Dabi + the league desperately try to keep it from happeneing. Maybe Katsuki and Izuku play bodyguards to their respective friends lol. But things go well, seroki get married, and the ties between the Bakugou clan and Shouto's faction of the Todoroki clan become incredibly strong. Shouto takes over the entire group, with Sero as his husband. The league lose power more and more, eventually disbanding.

Bkdk and seroki achive an awesome balance in the city, and the city is far better off for it.

As for Bkdk's relationship... I think it is everything Katsuki hopes for in SYS and more. The more he gets to know Izuku the more he loves him. They are ruthless crime bosses, but they also have weekend superhero movie marathons. They nerd out over rare All Might merch, but fight and strategize with amazing synchonity.

I guess, to summarize, bkdk do face challenges after they get married. But they overcome them, and really do live happily after. They definitely never stop being in love, that's for sure.

--

My favorite part about writing this fic was writing Katsuki's panic post-library scene. Because I knew that at the same moment Katsuki was panicking, Izuku was at the Todoroki compound, pleased as fucking punch. He was probably laying on his bed writing "Bakugou Izuku" in hearts over and over again in his notebooks while sighing happily to himself. Izuku was SO smug about getting to meet and make out with his fiance before the wedding, you have no idea.

I also really liked writing Katsuki sneaking up on Izuku before the wedding lol. He was just so happy! I love it when Katsuki is happy. XD

Honestly though, my favorite thing about this fic isn't any one part. When I received the initial prompts (mafia and/or arranged marriage) I was stumped! I thought I was gonna write something angsty. I didn't though. It ended up writing something so silly, but sexy and fun too, and I'm really proud of that. Even the angstiest of prompts turn sweet and lovey-dovey when my boys are involved, I guess. XD

--

Okay that's ENOUGH of me talking lol. Thank you SO MUCH for asking though! You don't know how lovely it is to be able to share stuff like this - all the happiness and joy that the characters do in fact get to experience after the story ends. I can't say that it's like this for all writers, but I don't stop thinking about my boys when their little stories end. They live on hehe.

If anyone has any questions about any of my fics, you are always more than welcome to ask. <3 Okay! Thanks again! I hope this lived up to your hopes! <3

[slimy-vore-bog]

So...

Guess what happened like... a few days after I made that post?

EHHHHHH- THE SCARLET VIOLET DLC EPILOGUE CAME OUT AND I GOT OBSESSED WITH A SHIP WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

So like... This is going to sound weird, but I really hecking shipped Kieran with the protag (not myself) of the games since September 14-15 when I got the DLC and played The Teal Mask

Mild spoilers, but I was pretty upset with the story because of how it made our character treat Kieran, since Kieran reminds me a lot of myself and gives me that "I need to keep him safe" feeling that people who I see myself in gives me

They force you to lie to him and side with his abusive older sister while giving you fake half assed choices of dialogue and I was genuinely going to never buy a modern pokémon game again if the story wasn't resolved

And I'm not the type of pokémon fan to say that lightly as this is the first time I've ever said it without it being driven by trying to fit in with the fandom. (I.E I might have said I wouldn't get Shield on SoaringLark back in 2018 if the starters weren't shiny huntable, but that wasn't really a dealbreaker)

So yeah, it was a big deal, but sorry this is turning a bit rambly-

Point being that I was really fond of Kieran, but hated how they handled stuff with that big of a gap between a "To Be Continued" and a resolution to the bully victim "snapping"

So. What does this have to do with my blog here?

Well, it uh... snuffed out the last of my Owl House interest writing-wise for now... Of course the characters still have a special place in my heart and all that and I'll likely come back to it at some point but... right now my inspiration is my goofy little Pokémon trainer ship

I was thinking about making this post yesterday night, so now I'm at it. Basically I'm back into writing something that I really enjoy, but... it's the wrong fandom ^^;

Really sorry about this all... I hate letting people down and I didn't realize this was going to happen like... a day later, so I'm really really sorry about all this

At the same time I really should have seen this coming in some way, because as is evident with some of my AU fics; pokémon is my core special interest, I just never expected a character like Kieran to appear in the games and actually make me want to write with canon characters that weren't the Pokémon themselves

Edit: forgot to state my reasons for the ship; basically Kieran's behavior around your character reads/looks like how someone behaves around a crush

And it's easy enough for me to imagine the main character returning the feelings, so ship

TLDR: Sorry, got new obsession right after last post and will be gone for way longer than the amounts of time I've said before. Unless I've mentioned being gone forever

I'm pretty sure I will come back at some point still

[winderlylandchime]

Hello! I hope you’re having a good weekend. I tried to send you these much earlier but take a guess who started watching Desperate Housewives today? He is still angry at the last episode he watched yesterday that when I asked when he wants to watch the show today, he actually flipped me off and left to go outside to be with Brian the cat. He has not spoken about the show yet all day. And whenever I try to bring it up in any context he just flips me off. Mind you he only watched up to 5x05, shit hasn’t even fully hit the fan yet and he’s already angry at me. Anyway, I’m here to say 1) I’m 99% sure my parents would adopt all of you immediately even if you are all silently encouraging my brother’s qaf obsession. And 2) i have to show him those fanvideos but I gotta make sure there’s no spoilers or I’ll just show him afterwards to try and heal his broken heart. Anyway, I’m gonna send you his slow descent into heartbreak and anger.

also!!! I just saw your little teaser for your next fic and i am so freaking excited for it! I can’t wait for it, i already know I’m gonna absolutely love it.

I watched Desperate Housewives for a season or two when it first aired. I don't really remember anything about it though!

I'll draw up the adoption paperwork, get ready for, like, 5 more siblings.

I can't remember which of those vids may have spoilers. At one point she had the entire series (britin moments only) in fan vid form but some have been taken down. I have two more rec's but they're in WhatsApp and I'm on my desktop. I'll like them in comments under this.

THANK YOU for your comment about looking forward to my fic. I'm hoping to start posting in December!

[unlimitedhorsepower]

tiger and bunny spoilers under the cut

people reblogging my latest funny t&b edit about how “heroTV has a huge announcement about lunatic” are unknowingly dropping coconuts on top of my head like in a cartoon, due to the circumstances

yeah i wish i could imagine a funny edited twitter post about lunatic announcements and ryan replying to them with “gay, right?” and have a good laugh but oh... its not funny anymore.

literally i could just delete most of my work-in-progress WIPs. because even if its a meme that doesnt centrally feature yuri i like to include him in the main ensemble cast of heroes and have him participate in funny stuff.

me, an idiot, published some fics with yuri  yesterday because i was like oooh!.. i have to get some of these out before cour2 drops! small details and facts will change!.. maybe everyone will find out about yuri being lunatic itd change the whole scenarios and dynamics in my mind!

well it was so much worse!!!!

i genuinely wish i was joking when i say i cant stop crying. regrettably my life is pretty hard right now and unironically  t&b has kept me going for months and ive thought a lot about yuri becoming happy.

taking this extremely personally what can i say.

i saw how hurt he was by how cruel the world can be and i can make him feel even a sliver of happiness in my thoughts and fanworks because hes a cartoon character and i can force the world to be more tender, just for him.

but now? well fuck me i guess.

i genuinely cant believe im saying this but i wish this season had never happened. its not even bittersweet to me, its fully sour. genuinely inconsolable, i know i keep saying that but oh my god. and how i WISH i was fucking joking about that.