#the creative juice has just been low lately

[crimson-moonflowers]

It might be silly, but my Nori keychain got stuck inside one of the bags in my backpack and I hadn't noticed until yesterday and I just- started to feel so bad about it.

I'm sorry baby, I can't believe I didn't notice you were gone, Jason just tends to stay in front of you and makes it hard to see you all the time 🥺

I literally felt like that [insert cat crying]

[haechanhues]

last minute of golden hour; yours | chapter three

pairing : first love! haechan x fem!reader

genre : small coastal town romance. first love. fluff. pining. suggestive. angst.

warnings : short and more of a filler chapter. haechan does make a little appearance but this chapter is more of an insight in their family dynamic.

summary : is first love meant to be the way it is for the town's golden boy and everybody's baby angel?

word count : 1.3k

taglist : @nshitae

main masterlist

previous chapter : chapter two

It was a brand new day, and it had already started with sunrise. Your Mum, specifically. It was her annual, once in a full moon day off and she was celebrating it the way she always did. Initially, undoubtedly with a good mood. 

This good mood however was mostly at your own expense…

“Mum, stop already!” You plead, trying to squeeze in between her too excited demeanour and hard kitchen bench. 

“Oh c’mon, give me the goss. I've been waiting for a free day for weeks,” She pleads back, twirling in her dressing gown and pyjamas. Granted, she is the happiest she’s been in a few months, sleeping in an extra two hours and making herself breakfast, “I feel like I need gossip to function right now. So make it good.”

“I told you already,” You rolled your eyes, as your Mum bends to fill the dishwasher up with your Dad’s dirty dishes, “He told me to meet up with him, I did and it went alright. A bit awkward and I was nervous but…yeah” 

Your Mum looks from her chore to see you duck your head with a lovestruck little smile that completely overtakes your whole face. 

“More than alright it seems, he has you in googles and googly-ga-gaa over him,” She snorts, “Wanna watch a movie with me? I’m going to be all alone and I want to spend it with my daughter.” 

A part of you wants to groan, because this is when your mother wants to steal all the details over your failed little flirtation with Haechan and the other half realises she’s just offered you a way out of a mock exam….

The same part knows your mother has moments like this where she forgets you’re a school student and if you cared more about attendance like Yunjin you wouldn’t accept any offer she makes. Wouldn’t even consider it. But you’re not Yunjin, because you slid right next to your mother to see what movie she chose with your school uniform still on. 

You figure it’s everything to do with the fact you don’t get to see your parents much. Your mother usually works late nights with her rest to work ratio being completely imbalanced. Coming home with a stiff neck and low tolerance for children and the like. Your father, similarly, is working hard towards a promotion at work that will end in his salary potentially being tripled. You worry that the wind will change and he’ll be stuck with a hunched neck from working business. 

Despite this, they maintain their duties to being your parent. Your Dad often taking you out on weekends or roping you into an evening trip to a takeaway shop more than an hour away to sneak in bonding time. Mum in comparison using her sick days or break opportunities to relax and unwind, you more often than not, by her side.

By the time the sequel to ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ begins, you leave to change out of your school uniform, opting for a more comfortable fit and sending a quick text to the group chat explaining your absence. 

“Shall I make pancakes?” Your Mum wonders, feeling peckish and with sugar cravings that could make a diabetic faint. You nod, incredibly entranced, “Can I get a thank you?” 

You lock eyes with your mother, smiling with teeth before refocusing on the movie and the awkward yet lovable main character, “Thanks. Love you.” 

Your Mum sighs, whipping the mixture half asleep and buttering the pan. She pulls out her phone to send your Dad evidence of the simplistic yet precious lunch she plates, her creative juices sparking when she brings out all sorts of toppings. She cuts the bananas, fills the little teapot with maple syrup and then halves a lemon. She does it all. 

Feeling less entertained by the movie currently, you watch as your Mum plates up the pancakes, smirking at the way your Mum presents it all on a little lazy susan. Feeling a little mischievous you send your Dad a text with a photo of the two of you and the small picnic in between. 

Your Dad texts almost immediately. 

Betrayal! My lawyers will be hearing about this-

You can hear your Dad’s voice just from reading the text and it makes you snort so loudly your mother almost has a heart attack. 

Just kidding. Really am jealous though. Will be home late today x hope SOMEONE enjoys their day off. 

Hang on

Aren’t you supposed to be at school today? 

Your mouth fills with air as your lips clamp shut at the incriminating question before turning your phone facedown on the bench immediately. 

“Dad says he’s jealous,” You comment, cutting through your first pancake greedily. 

“He should be, I did good,” Your Mum compliments herself, and then she giggles at the way you send her a lowkey judgemental look, “Say if you had to choose between Donghyuck or pancakes what would you pick?” 

You roll your eyes, collecting your plate off the bench before moving towards the paused TV to continue watching the movie. Your mother’s spurts of laughter follow after you. 

“Ha ha,” You deadpan, which sends her into another fit of laughter, a kind she tries to bury only for her cheeks to swell like a balloon as she fails to contain her giggles. 

The whole day is spent like that. With food to share between the two of you. Your bodies flying like feathers as past days evaporate into the sky. Laughter and teasing. More teasing. Teasing about your crush on the golden boy, Lee Donghyuck. Sporting hero. Your town’s pride. The one going places. 

You almost combust when the aforementioned boy appears on your doorstep with a small care package that took him a good hour to orchestrate together, along with your two friends who already suspect that you ditched school for a reason that’s not illness but rather because your Mum was home. 

They don’t have the heart to say anything to him though. Ultimately deciding to encourage him instead. If he has already gone to such lengths, he wouldn’t mind the effort? So they exaggerate. Jeno is sure that they described the symptoms of bubonic plague, but he decides to keep that tidbit of information a secret. 

It’s when you open the door, with a healthy glow and no hives in sight, does he start to feel like an idiot. A godforsaken big idiot. 

“Oh,” He mutters, holding out the bag awkwardly, “I got you a care package… I thought you were sick?” 

Your nose scrunches, and if you weren’t so embarrassed yourself, you wouldn’t have let how cute he is go. 

“I’m not sick,” You deny, tucking your hair behind your ear, “My Mum’s home from work so I’m spending the day with her.” 

“Lucky,” He mutters, “We had a test today.” 

“I know,” You whisper conspiratorially back. Your smile grows as he looks at you with a dumbfounded look. 

“And you didn’t think to invite me? Huh?” He’s joking with you, expression bright and soft. 

“Next time, I promise, I will,” You pout, holding out your hand. He holds out his own hand to loop your pinky finger with his, and from his touch alone your whole body is warm. Be it your own opinion, but you can attest that Haechan is blessed with the sun’s kiss so much that he has never been cold a day in his life. He’s like a furnace. 

He peers down at his phone, reading the time before locking eyes with you again, “I’ve got to go to training now.” 

You don’t want him to go, and by his expression it doesn’t look like he wants to leave either. 

“Hope you’re ‘feeling better’ tomorrow,” He sends his regards with his hands shaped like bunny ears and he smiles when you reward him with your own. 

“Should be.” 

“Cool.” 

Then he’s off and again, you’re completely blown away with him. His smile. His laugh. His warmth. His fucking face. 

“What’s this I hear about test day?” 

Shit. 

next chapter : chapter four

[losersroom]

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @tetrapod7! thanks man, this was a fun one.

1. how many works do you have on ao3? 17 on my current account. there's more on my old one and obviously that doesn't count everything i published on other platforms (livejournal, ff.net) in the ancient days, lol

2. what's your total ao3 wordcount? again just on the wolfspider account, 168,153. i cant tell if that feels low or high to me

3. what fandoms do you write for? right now, just wild hrpf. in the past it's been mostly anime and various cartoons.

4. top five fics by kudos: i'm hitting the skip button on this because like. wrt my own work i think it's not a very good metric of EITHER how popular those stories actually were OR the quality of them; they're mostly the TUA ones and im chalking that up to that fandom being Huge when i was active. my most kudos'd fic of all time is still how much was mine to keep, though, and i think that one holds up.

5. do you respond to comments? i try to now. i went through a long phase of not engaging with comments due to Social Anxiety and also being kind of fed up with the hyper-combative culture in the fandoms i was in. like i wanted to just yeet my work out there and be done with it. in hrpf fandom i'm actually interested in the community aspect though so ive been trying to get over myself and respond as best i can.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the brodsfabes time loop fic, hands down. it's weird because as a reader i am um. not very into unhappy endings or unconsummated angst but every once in a while when i'm writing i'll get into a Mood and write something viscerally upsetting. anyway that one was pretty clearly me processing some grief that was happening in my real life, lol.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? probably entangled, from my spiderverse days. ngl i kind of hate it now though so let's move on from this. i think most of my fic has happy or at least ambiguously-positive endings, though.

8. do you get hate on fics? only one time ever and it was someone complaining that a ship i tagged for wasn't present in the story after One Chapter so. we're discounting that one. i've been pretty lucky!

9. do you write smut? yeah. my relationship with writing pornography ebbs and flows, like. sometimes i'll be really into it but sometimes i'll just stick a sex scene into a story where i feel like it's the least interesting thing that happens because people expect it and aren't going to read a romance that isn't leading up to that. i'm a horrible pervert and building up to a sex scene is an easy way to give your story a climax (...in multiple senses of the word) though so. why not.

10. craziest crossover: i don't write crossovers but if i did it would be the insane one ive been thinking about lately where the minnesota wild are stuck in the dungeon from dungeon meshi

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? not to a degree that i can prove it but part of the reason i left TUA fandom was somebody, in my opinion, ripped off large chunks of one of my fics and did just enough massaging of the language to make it defensible as Not Plagiarism. ruined the whole experience for me though.

12. have you ever had a fic translated? no, i think that would be one of the highest honors i could receive as a writer though. i wish i knew enough of a second language to translate my own work, but i'm still at like a kindergarten level in japanese so that will. Not happen.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before? tried to once with someone i am no longer friends with, it was a disaster. never gonna do that again. i am just too much of a control freak to relinquish any amount of creative decisionmaking i think.

14. all time favorite ship? don't have one! i tend to like hyperfixate on one ship for anywhere from one month to a year and a half and then when the brain juice runs out im Done and i never want to think about this concept again. im giving check please jackparse a point for being a ship i can read about post-fixation without getting bored but other than that. right now it's 725, in the future, who can say.

15. what's a wip you want to finish but never will? [stares at my overflowing gdocs draft folder. stares at the camera] i do not see it

16. what are your writing strengths? i like my prose, most of the time, and i think i'm pretty good at descriptive writing and like, internal character voice. sometimes i can accidentally stumble into excellent pacing

17. what are your writing weaknesses? INTENTIONALLY good pacing. writing dialogue that sounds like a human said it and not a sitcom character. i'm decent at line-by-line editing but awful at structural editing. recently ive become aware that i tend to subconsciously reuse certain plot beats a lot.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language? like anything else, there's a way to do this that's fine and interesting and a way to do it that's insultingly terrible and it all depends on intent and execution. like if you're peppering in phrases in a second language just to show off that a character Is Foreign, don't do that. try to do it in a way that's realistic for how people talk. do it purposefully, i suppose

19. first fandom you wrote in? god dude i do NOT remember this was literally 21 years ago but probably either naruto or fullmetal alchemist.

20. favorite fic you've written? probably one of the unpublishable ones tbh. or the time loop one again. honestly i really like all my hrpf work, ive been putting out some bangers lately. it's nice to feel like ive been growing as an ~artist~ or whatever.

[gremlin4goro]

🌞 and 🧠 (Kiryu or his ancestor xD)

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

As of late, my creative juices flow the best between 6 am to noon.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

For Kiryu, I headcanon him autistic and ace (despite me writing so much smut of him. Maybe like a grey ace sorta thing, he has low libido but Majima's just so hot he can make it work). Also canon Kiryu (the Kiryu not from my fics) is definitely a virgin.

As for Sakamoto Ryoma Kiryu, hmm. It's been a while since I've played Ishin! and the way my fic works doesn't give him all that much personality, buuuuut I'd love to think he really does grow attached to the chickens at the chicken races, like he goes there to not to bet, but to check on the birds to see they're still nice and healthy.

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Ficlet: "The Brave"

I didn't even polish this, because the creative juices are turning so slowly these days, and if I slowed down for an edit I'm not sure I'd post it. But I want to. Based on this lovely piece of art by @gerbiloftriumph.

Back to back with bars between them. Fingers linked through a gap in the grille. Breaths gradually matching. How is it that Graham can’t bear to look her in the eye after all his poor choices, and yet he dares hold her hand? She’s weakening, all because of him. He should be working himself to the bone to get her out before it’s too late. Or if he’s going to be a sniveling sop who can’t, how has he got the gall to come here?

“I should go,” he whispers, but can’t move.

“And do what?” Amaya says under her breath, too low for goblin eavesdroppers.

“Save you all.”

She snorts. “What, in the next five minutes? You stay where you are.” He can hear her trying to bully some gusto into her voice, but the shivering and exhaustion come out on top.

Graham tries to pull his hand free. “I can’t stay here forever.” If only he could. If only time would pause if he didn’t move, and starvation would pause along with it.

Amaya snags his fingers before they can pull loose, tightening her own grip. “Sure, not forever. But you can take five.” From his periphery he can see her turn to glance over her shoulder at him. “I think you need it, kid. You been getting enough sleep?”

“Oh yes,” he chuckles bitterly. “I get my full eight hours every time.” “And food?”

She doesn’t need to worry about that.

She presses on. “Those chicken legs, or whatever they are. Where are they coming from? When I’m eating, who’s not?”

Graham tries to brush it off with a sternness he can tell she’ll see through before he’s said a word. “I’ve told you. I’ve got a rotation going between you, the Feys, and the Hobblepots. I wish there was more, but –“

“And where do you fit in that rotation, Your Majesty? How many days since you ate?”

“I eat when I need to.”

“How many?” she insists. Even with all the vigour drained from her, her questions are commands.

“A day or two.”

“Or three? Or four?”

He sighs, and even with the bars between them his shoulder blade heaves against hers. “Can you stop now, Amaya?” he says very quietly – perhaps too quietly for her to even hear him properly. “I’ll stay. But can we just sit?”

Amaya goes quiet. Without turning round, he can’t know whether he’s only frustrated her, or if she’s nodded understandingly and just wants to give him the silence he needs. Or if she’s finally realized just how grim it really is and the same silence eating him has taken its first true bite out of her heart. Time doesn’t truly exist down here, except in it’s more terrifying aspects, but he knows at least that he sits there a lot longer than five minutes.

It's Graham who breaks the silence after all. “Amaya --” he says, aloud this time, and there’s a choke in his voice, “—I don’t know if I’m brave enough.”

Her voice sounds monotone, faraway, but real. “Sometimes, admitting that is bravery.” She shifts to look at him again, and he finds himself turning to look too. Gauntness has begun etching her face, and her eyelids are heavy, but the eyes beneath them still have their brightness. She swallows. “Sometimes rest is bravery.” She squeezes his hand, and lets it go at last. “I’m not going to die this time, Graham. I’ve already promised. You can try whatever you need to try to get us out of here – run any risk – and I won’t die on you. I’m not that pathetic.”

He turns round to face her full on, sitting on his ankles. “What if it’s a promise you can’t keep?”

Amaya nods slowly. “Oh, I can. Believe me. It’s not a promise to you. I made it to myself, quite a while ago, and I’ve proved to myself I can keep it.” She rushes into her next sentence, even though he hasn’t tried to interrupt, as though she fears her might. “Listen. You’ve done incredible keeping us alive. Now I need a promise out of you, kid. Will you let us help you keep alive too?”

What can he do but say yes in a moment like that? Even if he can’t quite believe the words he’s saying, he can mean them. “Yes. Yes.”

“Good. So here’s what I want you to do. Don’t go back to that third floor, or try to shift those levers, or whatever it is you’re going to try for the umpteenth time tonight. Just sleep, and wherever you get the food from, next piece is yours. Do you understand me? No more tonight.”

Will arguing do any good? “But –”

She turns away and crosses her arms. “Good night.”

“I –“

“Good night, Graham.”

“Amaya, this isn’t –“

He can only see the back of her head, but he can feel the glare. “Rest. Is. Bravery. Good night.”

Graham rises to his feet, and musters a smile. He doesn’t feel any more hopeful, but something else, something heaver, seems to be dispersing just a little. “Good night.”

[maleksrami]

Hey! Here are questions!

Are there any things that don't suck? Stuff you enjoy? Upcoming plans? Anything

What's something that has made you laugh this week?

What's the last animal you saw?

If you were offered water, soda, coffee, tea, or juice right now, which would you choose?

When you imagine someone (anyone) you like, what do you see them doing?

What do you think are your core values?

If you could do one tiny and low effort thing right now to make yourself even a tiny bit more comfortable, what is it? Are you gonna do it?! Have you already?!

What's your current interest that has you smiling most often?

things that don’t suck: there was a handful of new songs that all released last week on the same night and three of them all relate to my boyband loving lifestyle through the ages 😭 nsync released a new song, also zayn, and taehyung (“V”) of bts. my childhood, my early twenties, and my present loves all at once. i was over the moon and all the songs are so wonderful 🥹

something that made me laugh this week was an old picture of my dog that i found. my sister had taken a photo of him in the passenger seat of my mom’s car while she was in traffic next to them in her own car. he’s just staring out the window at her and he looks like a little teddy bear bc he had just gotten a fresh haircut lol. i had forgotten about it but was highly amused when i stumbled upon it again. he’s also the last animal i saw haha

if i were offered something to drink rn, i’d probably go with juice because i just had some orange juice and it always tastes better at night to meee

when i imagine someone i like, i see them preparing a meal or snack for me honestly 🥺 i need someone who knows how to cook bc i can get pretty bored doing it for myself these days

my core values definitely include creativity and self expression in any way. empathy and humor. kindness and loyalty. passion and nature. all those nice things :)

i’ve brushed my teeth and crawled into bed so i’m comfy rn!

idk if it’s an interest but lately there have been a lot of hummingbirds in my back garden because we have a ton of bird feeders out there, so i like watching them chase each other around and come up to the feeders and see all the various colors they are :)

[vapehk1]

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To ensure optimal vapor production, it is recommended to use a high-quality battery with sufficient capacity, considering that the DRAG M100S is a single-battery vape. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQ0uA2laoPY VOOPOO DRAG M100S specifications/ parameters: To give you a comprehensive overview, here are the specifications and contents of the VOOPOO DRAG M100S Starter Kit: - Dimensions: 90mm x 36mm x 30mm - Battery Compatibility: Single 18650/21700 Battery (Not Included) - Wattage Range: 5-100W - Resistance Range: 0.05-3.0ohm - Display Screen: OLED Display Screen - Chassis Material: Zinc-Alloy - Diameter: 25mm - Widest Point: 29mm - Glass Capacity: 5.5mL - Fill System: Quarter Turn Top Fill - Tank Material: Stainless Steel - Coil Series: PnP Coil - Chipset: GENE.TT Chipset Available Colors: Silver and Black VOOPOO DRAG M100S package content: - 1 x Drag M100S Device - 1 x UFORCE-L Tank - 1 x 0.15ohm PnP-TW15 Coil - 1 x 0.2ohm PnP-TW20 Coil (Better experience according to the author) - 1 x 5.5mL Replacement Glass - 1 x Silicone Rubber Pack - 1 x User Manual - 1 x Type-C Cable - 1 x 18650 Adapter Verdict VOOPOO DRAG M100S starter kit is definitely a compact and versatile vaping solution. 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[kaizzzi]

I HIT 100K PAGE VIEWS??? UMM THANKS kahjaskdhkja 

[jimmybuggin]

I’ve see a lot of talk about if Zoro will get a full backstory lately again, so here’s my opinion on it.

I think Zoro getting a canon backstory on his family and all the things that happened during his training/ while bounty or before finding the dojo would be cool. Zoro is such an important character in the series, and yet his backstory has no importance to it, there has been no episodes long exploration to it. We have a few snippets, but that’s about it. Of course, this also means something else.

We, as the viewers get to speculate. I’ve seen so many creative backstories for Zoro because he lacks one, and I know that once he has a canon backstory the already low amount of those will spitter from a trickle into a few drips. Some of my favorite fics, for example, have some of the most in depth character making stories for him. Due to his lack of backstory, the box that usual closes writers in and makes them doubt writing an idea is just completely gone, and allows us to really get the creative juices flowing.

I absolutely think Zoro deserves more than what he has in canon, but at the same time, I would miss the creative freedoms we have without it. It reminds me a bit of Kakashi’s mask, before he was unmasked, people were free to speculate and I read some really good ideas for the mask. They all stopped the second that he was unmasked, though.

Anywho, just my opinion. Love Zoro very much and thinks he deserves the best of both worlds xoxo

[expresstheobsession]

34 from the section one dialogue prompts with Shoto please?

This has been a 2-year request and I'm deeply sorry for not getting to this sooner. Creative juices are flowing tonight and I found this in my drafts from a previous ask that I edited some to fit this prompt. Hope this short piece suits you! Let me know if you notice any mistakes that I didn’t fix. Thanks! 

34 "I'm never letting you go."

Word Count: 495 | Warnings: NONE?

You decided to skip the café today since it was already late into the afternoon, but you still needed to write a few lyrics before the day was done. Sitting at the bar in your kitchen, you type away at your laptop.

“This doesn’t make sense,” You mumbled. After deleting the lyric for the third time. You were obviously never going to finish at the rate you were heading. You ran your fingers through your hair, tugging a little to maybe help clear your mind. When you got insecure about yourself it was hard to break back into reality. Nothing you did seemed right when you were in this state.

Todoroki walked through the archway into the kitchen, noticing your open computer and frustrated expression. “Having trouble?”

He pulled up a stool next to yours, reaching over to lug the laptop closer to him. He read through a few lines, stopping at the same part you were stuck at. “I see.”

You laid your head gently on his shoulder, mumbling low under your breath. “I’m useless, can’t seem to figure it out. I’m about to trash the whole thing.”

Todoroki watched you from the corner of his eye, scrunching up his nose in thought. He hated when you doubted yourself because he thought you were amazing. It didn’t matter if the lyrics matched up, you gave it your best shot and that’s really all that mattered.

“Stand up.” Todoroki said as he started to type away on your laptop. He searched for the song he wanted as you stood from your stool.

“What are you doing, Shoto?” You ask, reading over his shoulder to see what he was going to play.

“Dancing helps you relieve stress and right now you’re maxed out on it. Come on, dance with me.” The first cords of the song starts as Todoroki pulls you close to him.

“Come away with me in the night,” He whispered against your ear. One of his arms tugged you close by the waist while the other had a gentle grip on your hand.

“Come away with me and I will write you a song,” You finish the lyrics for him. Your shoulders begin to relax as the song continues. Todoroki is dancing with you at a languid pace, slow and relaxed. The simple things he did for you made everything worthwhile. You forgot all your troubles and just danced.

“Come away with me and I’ll never stop loving you.” He sang low, giving you a sweet kiss on the temple.

He would love nothing more than to dance away each night with you in his arms and that’s how he planned to spend the rest of your lives together. Dancing in the kitchen as the soft coo of a slow song rang on in the background.

“I’m never letting you go,” you whisper into his ear, hugging him tightly in a silent thank you for always knowing what you needed to relax.

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

[wasabito]

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true. 

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer. 

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once. 

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance. 

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture. 

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment. 

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly. 

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more. 

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too. 

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit. 

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up. 

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!" 

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?" 

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

[jungwnies]

*head peaks out behind the door*

hehe hi maeby baby, sorry i’ve been a little mia these few days i have been busy preparing some stuff

i don’t remember if i have mentioned this before but not too long ago i started a small business (i made air dry clay stuff >.<) and i signed up to be part of this event in my city where a bunch of small businesses come and they sell their products (my sister is also going to be selling second hand clothes that we’ve been trying get rid of for months now) so basically i make the pieces, wait for them to dry, sand them, paint them and then varnish them non stop so I can have as many products as possible 🤧

im a lil excited but also nervous like i hope people buy stuff hagshs (pls)

also on a little side note my birthday is on august so I’m trying to come up with ideas for my “party” which is just a get together with my friends buT I’ve been suffering cause last year I managed to invite like 6 friends and it was perfect but this year like i think only like 2 friends are in the city so low key im sad about that ;(( (i fee like it sounds like a stupid problem but for real like where did all my friends go lmao)

n e ways, hope life has been treating you good

take lots of care babyyyyyy

mwa mwa mwa

-🧸 anon

hiiiii sorry i replied late, i read this a few days ago and completely forgot to respond because i was in the city ㅜㅜ

starting a business (not going to lie) seems like a lot of work so i wish you the best on your journey and i hope your business gets a lot of recognition and sales! also clay pieces? i wish i could sculpt but i can't for the life of me, my creative juices just don't flow there but i'm sure yours are so cute and if i was there i would definitely buy some from you LOL

i hope people buy stuff from you as well you deserve that <3

i don't know if you're birthday has already passed or not but happy birthday and also same idk where my friends have gone but i do hope you have or had the best birthday ever even if it was just 2 friends i was there in spirit ! it'll be fun as long as you find ways to manage that with only two people in attending + my spirit LOL

also yes life has been a treat and i actually went to go see a broadway show like a week ago and it was really cool and fun and now i want to see more but i also want to see seventeen so i'm not sure which to pick LMFAO

[thebandcampdiaries]

Lil Murky is back with a new album release: Emotionally Murked.

Lil Murky is back with one of his catchiest and most impactful releases to date: Emotionally Murked. The album has a modern and polished production, which really allows the mix to stand out for its clarity and depth. The low end is really fat and punchy, while the vocal sound is smooth and articulate. Lil Murky’s work has often been compared to artists the likes of Kid Cudi, Juice WRLD and XXXTENTACION, but he certainly has a character of his own, as opposed to simply trying to copy other influences along the way.

This release will hit you with the melodies of modern trap and the energy of old-school hip-hop, going for a timeless, yet modern feel. The artist is truly awesome at expressing himself, operating at a high level across the board. Not only is the songwriting on point, but the lyrical flow is also impressive.

The thrill of creativity is apparent here, and Lil Murky’s music sounds very innovative, yet catchy and timeless. However, there is also a very unique element to it, bringing such a relatable listening experience to the table.

We’ve also had the opportunity to catch up with the artist for an interview!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

The melody comes first always , as it’s the most rememberable part of the song. Which also makes it easier to write the rest of the song. Reason for this is, all you need to do is fill the gaps

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Definitely would fill more comfortable within the walls of a studio for sure , as it’s just me and this mic. But I can’t really have a say cause I haven’t performed yet.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Motions or lost the darkness for sure because there unique and mainstream to the point I could hear them on the radio. But also I get the most positive feedback for those songs the most

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Changing it up and keeping it fresh is exactly what this project offers ive messed around with 10 different genres such as Hyperpop ,melodic rap ,rock pop Ect.

And I keep trying new things in every song that comes

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

My next release will probably be late June or early July,

Which will be a single. I plan to drop monthly , to help grow my fan base

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Lil Murky

On all music platforms

[fresafresitawrites]

paloma’s cards and water

my latest creative writing assignment! adding onto the next series of my vignettes! involving my oc andrew as the main boi. u can find them all here  this one is a lil long but my prof really liked it so im happy w it. rest is under the read more! id be so happy if anyone reads this slkajf inspired by tarot reading, my grandma, and that one chapter in the house on mango street w the tarot reader 

I was on the first floor of my building getting the mail when I heard my downstairs neighbor sweeping her entrance mat.

“Buenos días, m’hijito.” Her voice was like the strum of a guitar.

“Buenas, Señora Paloma.” I replied. I gave her a quick glance as I skimmed a letter about my academic probation from last semester.

She set the broom aside and looked up at me.

“Ah, so formal now that you’re older, and taller too. You’re always getting taller and taller.” I’m only five foot six, five foot eight when anyone asks. “I haven’t seen you too much lately.”

“Oh, disculpe.” I crammed the envelopes into my messenger bag. Most of them were junk anyway, like dollar store advertisements or auto companies offering me a car loan. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind, a lot going on with school and work and everything.” I closed the mailbox unit.

“Ay, perdón, Señor Ibarra,” she teased. Somewhere after I turned eighteen, I went from calling her Mama Lola to using formalities. “Do you have some time, actually? I need help with something, si puedes.”

I checked my phone. I had work in an hour. “Sí sí sí, yeah, whatdya need?” I cracked my knuckles. Usually, she just wanted me to move furniture or get something from the top shelf of her kitchen cabinets, like the blender she used during the summer to make watermelon juice. Her oldest son also bought her an iPad for Christmas three years ago when he visited from Buffalo, and I’ve memorized the passcode after troubleshooting it for her so many times.

Paloma waved me inside her one-bedroom apartment, two floors directly underneath my family’s. We lived in an old house with four floors that probably used to belong to one rich family in the nineteenth century but was now broken up into several apartments. Paloma’s door was the first one on the ground floor across from the staircase. Her apartment always smelled like dryer sheets, and the television was always on some Spanish talk show, and water was always boiling over the kitchen stove because she didn’t trust the pipes. The yellow walls were adorned with Mexican folk paintings, plastic floral garlands, and family photos attached with Scotch tape. In every corner there were figurines of Catholic saints.

A few years ago, I asked Paloma to watch Sofi and Eli for me. I had tickets to see The Strokes at Madison Square Garden and only that morning did I double check the date of the concert. My mom was at a student’s piano recital, and I agreed a week earlier to watch the girls that night.

I was carrying Eli in one arm and held Sofi’s hand with the other outside Paloma’s door. The girls were four at the time, so I just gave them each twenty bucks to never say anything.

“Hmm!” Paloma lifted her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “And you think your momma won’t find out?”

I thought about it. “Well, don’t tell her.”

Paloma laughed, squinting her dark eyes like a fox.

Thankfully, Ma’s train got delayed on the way home that night.

In Paloma’s kitchen, two Devil’s Ivy plants sat in the sink with their vines trailing over the edge, hesitating to touch the tile floor. On the left was the glass door to her own small patio, where a few stray cats lay across the concrete. Paloma pointed to her wooden breakfast table, leaving her broom aside, so I pulled out a chair.

She sat down across from me, laying a purple and gold silk cloth between us and placed two tea lights on each side.

“Oh, is this what you wanted me for?” I sat up, surprised. She tied her long, gray-brown hair into a bun.

Paloma has never tried to use her cards on me before. I was never interested in these things. Hemera was the one who came to visit often after her break-up during freshman year with this film studies major, Vladimir, who played the accordion and was originally from Portland. Hemera and Paloma would lean over the tarot cards, speaking low, like candleflames. I usually sat on the couch and watched Looney Tunes, since Boomerang was one of the only channels on Paloma’s television other than the news or Telemundo.

“How’s your friend?” Paloma asked as if she read my mind. “Is she your girlfriend yet? Or has she found someone?” She pulled out the deck of cards from her apron pocket and shuffled them.

            “Oh, no, she’s okay. She’s doing okay.” Hemera told me two weeks ago she was “focusing on herself” which meant she deleted Tinder and would reactivate it within the next week. “And nah, she’s like a sister to me. That’d be weird.”

            Paloma watched me. “You cold?”

            “What? No…” Well, now that she mentioned it… ‘Actually, yeah, kind of, maybe.” I zipped up my wool sweater. Was there a breeze?

            “Good.” She spread the cards out with her delicate hands. “That means the spirits are here.”

            “Uh, okay. Sure, Paloma. They are.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic.

            I closed my eyes and hovered my left hand over the fanned-out cards, mimicking how Hemera used to do it. I tapped three random cards and Paloma flipped them over.

            She read them out loud. “El ermitaño, la rueda de la fortuna, y la muetre.”

            The late February sun casted a soft glow over the kitchen like a dream.

            “Your past, present, and future cards.” Paloma’s tone shifted into something softer, as if her words descended from the clouds. “Ah, look at you. Always keeping to yourself, always, always. Like the old man here on the card… alone on the mountain, holding a lantern trying to illuminate his path.”

            I tilted my head.

            “Right now, you’re in a critical position. It’s a marvelous position to be in! See all the arrows on the wheel going in all directions? They can lead you anywhere. You just steer the wheel like the helm of a sailboat and go wherever the wind takes you. How exciting!”

             I leaned forward. I examined the card that depicted what looked like a large, gold coin covered in strange symbols and surrounded by hybrid animals and angel figures.

            “And here, look, don’t be afraid of this last one. Everyone’s always afraid of this card, but don’t take it too literal. This card means transformation, it means upheaval, it means purging, it means endings.

            I picked up the card, fixated on the small boy kneeling before the skeleton-knight riding a white horse. I put the card back down.

            “This sounds… vague.” I leaned back in my chair, half skeptical and half on edge from her reading, but I didn’t want her to know the last part. “I thought you’d tell me something terrible would happen, or something like who I’m going to marry or whatever. Not that I would believe it, but I’m just wondering why you wanted me here right now.”

            Paloma smiled and crossed her arms. She’d been expecting this reaction. “It’s not like that. It’s not a math test, like in school. There are no right or wrong answers here. I know you don’t like that. Frustrating, no?”

            “Yeah, a little.”

            “Half of the work is you. It’s like looking at art or reading poetry. You’re participating. You’re drawing your own conclusions.” She placed the deck back into her pocket. “You have to marinate on the words, m’hijo. Everything will reveal itself.”

            I took a deep breath, swung my bag over my shoulder, and checked my phone.

            I had work in five minutes.    

[mimi-cee-hq]

yes yes definitely pop into my inbox for food ideas! my go to for lazy cooking is my crock pot, if you have one; i make a burrito/taco filling that’s just 1-2 lb chicken or pork + 16 oz jar salsa of choice, low for 8 hours, shred with two forks!

this one lasts my bf and i for a whole week of lunches when we add veg on top (tomatoes, peppers, cabbage), so about 10-12 servings 🥰

I actually have an instant pot! I've been doing burrito fillings lately too. :) And I add a bag of diced frozen veggies. Except that my hubby prefers pan-fried ground beef for tacos so no instant pot for that recipe. lol

The sun-dried tomatoes pasta also looks good too. I need to start learning how to use spices. And figure out what everyone else will actually like to eat because each person has their own preferences. Arghhh. I should just give it a shot honestly. lol.

I don't think I've even bought sun-dried tomatoes??? LOL. Sometimes it's hard to find foods that are available/budget-friendly depending on where someone lives. I should be using my creative juices for modifying recipes but it's been going into writing instead. 😂😅