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versadies · 3 years

Note

Hey!!! How are you?

Congratulations on your 1k followers

Can I request aries + Kazuha + hc scenario + fluffy...?

Today is the last day of the event, I just saw it today, at least it wasn't after the event ended ;w;

⠀

I'm thinking about having a nickname to join the anon squad... Maybe 🇧🇷 anon? Your content came to a Brazilian person! Congratulations on your content reaching someone on the other side of the world :)

in the next life (hc scenario, reincarnation au)

penpal: hi hi, i’m doing great ty 🇧🇷 anon!! i’m so happy to know that my content has reached to the other side of the world 🥺🥺 i hope you like this <<3

prompt: aries the ram, red-string soulmate au

pairing/s: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader

sypnosis: sometimes, happy endings can only happen in another lifetime. (or, hc on how you and kazuha met during the modern era of teyvat)

includes: slight spoilers to inazuma quests (2.0), fluff/slight angsty, reincarnation au, mentions of death, modern au, rushed ending

soulmates has always been one of the things that made teyvat special.

people had all collectively agreed that meeting their soulmate is one of the most treasuring moment, no matter how strange or hilarious the first encounter is like, no one should ever forget the once-in-a-lifetime moment.

with that said, most stories are usually soulmates– specifically how one meets their fated other. historical moments are no exception to this, such as an archon's first ever encounter with their soulmate during an annual rite, a forbidden love between an immortal being and a human, a sweet story of a soldier and a healer during a certain war, and the list goes on.

but where are stories that contains soulmates who had never met one another? or had a tragic fate that gave them no opportunity to get along with their soulmate anymore?

none.

some would say they'll meet in the afterlife, where they can live on in peace as the world goes on. while some would beg to differ and think that the two soulmates are just bound to not meet.

only little would suggest reincarnation.

and you and your beloved soulmate are one of those little people.

but you honestly didn't think that you and kazuha would be the soulmates with a tragic fate.

the both of you had met thanks to the resistance. when beidou decided to introduce kazuha to kokomi, he met you along the way– the right-hand-person of kokomi and his soulmate.

the both of you had instantly clicked when you met, the wide smile the both of you had appeared when you notice each other's red string being connected.

since then, you were inseparable.

on days when your assigned unit didn't need your assistance at the moment, you usually use those times to hung out with the samurai, often talking about each other's adventures and experiences with the best you can.

it was those days when you incredibly cherished the moments, making sure to remember every second of those moments you had with him before going on battles against kujou sara and her soldiers.

unfortunately for the both of you, the memories that you oh-so cherished would be the last one you'll ever make.

"see you in the next life... kaedehara kazuha," you whispered, staring at the samurai as the both of you lie down on the cold ground with soldiers fighting around the both of you, blood gushing out from your mouth. "whether it'd be in the next life or another, may celestia let us have another chance."

you watched as kazuha smiled lightly, his hand shakily trying to reach out to yours until he intertwines it together. "till we meet again, y/n."

as the war between the resistance and the raiden shogun continued, you and kazuha let out your one last breath before passing away.

much to you and kazuha's hopes, the war against the vision hunt decree won victoriously, with the raiden shogun lifting up the decree and brought inazuma back to its usual peaceful life before the decree.

of course, the resistance alongside the traveler paid respects to you and kazuha's passing, telling you that you and kazuha can rest now that they won.

as centuries flew by, teyvat had a major change among the nations. in this particular century, archons and visions had long been forgotten, with technology around the world being more advanced than before. as for soulmates? they still exist fortunately.

then there's you, a person who found joy in traveling around the world and tell the world about it. at least, that's what people think.

to you, you simply wanted to travel around teyvat to find a person named kaedehara kazuha.

recently, you started getting dreams of a man who goes by kaedehara kazuha. some were usually romantic that it gave you butterflies, some were conversations that you sometimes would forget, and of course, the dreams that often haunt you.

most dreams of yours were always lying down beside the man– who was bleeding to death. was this a sign of him dying? what is the purpose of these dreams?

you didn't know why this was happening to you. are you slowly going insane? or were you just overreacting?

whatever it was, you knew that deep down that it has something to do with your soulmate.

you went high and low around each nation you visited, often asking certain people if they've know a man named kaedehara kazuha, only to receive no useful information that could help you.

of course, your only source that could help you find him is the red string that connects you and your soulmate, following the direction it led you with hopes of it twitching as a sign that you're near.

unfortunately, none of the nations you've visited had no signs of who you're looking for.

your last stop is inazuma, a nation that's infamous for having beautiful firework shows and tourist spots. there's not a single place that isn't worth taking pictures of.

the moment you arrived to the nation using a boat,l you came across to a woman whose name is beidou.

"i don't know a man whose name has a kaedehara, but i have a son who coincidentally has the same name as kazuha!" she exclaims with a grin. "i don't think he's the one you're looking for though, i've never seen him hung out with someone like you or anyone else who isn't gorou."

you smile lightly at the woman, trying to not look disappointed. "i see.. thank you again, miss beidou."

she quickly waved you off. "good luck in finding the man you're looking for!"

the moment you immediately checked in ritou, you started exploring around the nation with no plans of stopping, hoping to see at least one person who looks like the man in your dreams or has their red string connected to your finger.

unfortunately, every area you've visited in the land, you still haven't found the end of the string, your hopes slowly dying down as time flew by.

you decided to explore more the next day, deciding to go back to inazuma city and have dinner in one of their infamous restaurants.

as you sat down on one of the stools while waiting for kanbei to cook your meals, you let out a disappointed sigh. if you couldn't find your soulmate anywhere, where could he be?

what if kaedehara kazuha doesn't exist at all? what if he died before you could even meet him and find out what's going on with your dreams?

you let out another sigh, rubbing the back of your neck in frustration. you hoped all of this wasn't a waste of your time. you honestly don't know what to do if you won't be able to find him at all, let alone what happens after you meet him.

unnoticed by you, your red string started twitching nonstop. a man suddenly enters the place, sitting down one seat away from where you are.

"rough day, kazuha?" kanbei asked, not bothering to look away from the pot as he continues to focus on cooking your meal.

"not exactly. i found a perfect spot to write haiku." the man, kazuha, replied.

as kazuha and kanbei continued conversing, you couldn't help but find yourself slowly drifting to sleep, now feeling the exhaustion from your exploration around the nation.

before you could completely pass out on the counter, you immediately woke up from the delicious smell of your meal, looking up to see the chef being finished with your meal already. perhaps the reviews weren't lying when they said this restaurant is fast with services.

you quietly thanked the chef when he placed the meal down in front of you, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of the delicious meal before digging up, still not noticing the red string twitching nonstop due to your focus on filling your hunger.

"thank you again, kanbei." kazuha speaks up as he grabs the packaged food from the chef's hands and hands over the payment.

"always happy to serve, kazuha. see ya tomorrow." kanbei said, watching as the man walks away from the restaurant.

out of curiosity, you glance at who you assume is beidou's son, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of the same man that you've been seeing in your dreams–

along with his red string connecting to yours.

without thinking, you immediately jumped down from your stool, staring at kazuha, who already walked out from the diner without a glance of your direction. "i'll be back and continue eating my meal. apologies for my rudeness!" you exclaim before running towards kazuha's direction without letting a single word come out from kanbei, who was confused at your words.

"kazuha!" you yelled, hoping kazuha would hear your voice despite the sounds of cars and people being loud around the both of you.

you tried to call for the man again, only for you to get frustrated when he still hadn't heard a word from you. was he wearing earphones?!

you immediately look down at your string and back at kazuha, hesitating for a moment before shaking the string aggresively. please, please, please look back! please look like you're him–

you sigh in relief when he finally noticed his string shaking, causing him to stop his trakcs and look behind him to see you running towards him like your life depends on it.

his eyes widens at the sight of you running towards him, your face was all too familiar for him to remember. it can't be, you only existed in his dreams!

the both of you suddenly remember certain memories the both of you didn't even knew you had. memories of which the both of you used to be in. memories of the both of you walking around the infamous serpent head as soldiers trained with all their might for the upcoming war, memories of the both of you watching the stars and wish for the resistance to win victoriously, memories of your past life that you and kazuha had forgotten.

that was enough for kazuha to run towards you as well, his arms suddenly spreading wide open for you to clashed into, dropping his food without a care.

the moment you and kazuha finally had gotten closer, you tackled the man into a hug as tears prickled in your eyes, ignoring the questionable stares the both of you received from people passing by.

"i found you." you whispered, closing your eyes shut as you let out a sound of relief. "after so.. so many months, i finally found you."

kazuha hugs you back, pulling you closer to his body as he sighs in relief. now that there's no more wars or something to run away from, the both of you can start anew and live the life the both of you had wanted back then.

"i missed you."

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ravens-orchid · 2 years

Text

Kazuha’s Guide To Being Forgotten (Pt.1)

Summary: Kazuha goes on an expedition, attempting to run away as he did in Inazuma.

Characters: Kazuha, the…wind?, Xiao, Beidou (a little bit)

Disclaimer: Xiao likes to swear

Was inspired by the fact that Kazuha can hear the wind speak to him. I found that funny and ran with it, as well as reading countless memes about it. Also, anemo characters are sad and I enjoy writing about it. :)

If there was one thing Kazuha knew how to do well, it was hiding.

Sure, he was an exemplary poet, and excellent in the art of combat, but his true skills showed in his stealth. After all, he’s had plenty of practice.

It was no problem for Kazuha. One day he’s in Inazuma, next day he’s hiding on some sort of ship sailing to Liyue. He cannot forget his temporary mother aboard this ship, Beidou. She was a strong, independent woman. However the stench of alcohol often made Kazuha seasick. He knew well enough that hiding and escaping would come in handy once again, so the smell was enough to bear for the time being.

However, it was strange this time around. She was looking for him, and had been for the entire night. It was only a few minutes after Kazuha had disappeared into the night when Beidou came running after. To Kazuha, her constant efforts made no sense at all.

“What is Miss Beidou doing all the way out here?” Kazuha mumbled from the top of the cliff as he watched the pirate scope the area below. She yelled out Kazuha’s name, and stopped every few seconds to look out onto the water. “Surely the winds have not brought her to me.”

“Of course not, d’ya think I’d sell you out like that?” The wind responded.

Kazuha sighed, it was both a blessing and curse to hear the wind. It has helped him greatly in escaping and anticipating danger. On the other hand, the wind was a bit….quirky. It constantly sounded as drunk as Beidou on a Saturday night, and it could be quite loud. However the wind was better company than no one and frankly, it had started to grow on him.

“Nonetheless, she won’t find me here. The sunrise is lovely today, perhaps I should write a poem for this splendid morning and then leave.” Kazuha pulled a small notepad and pen out of his pocket. “I have to get out of here before she tries to look in the mountains.”

“Isn’t Beidou like, really cool though?”

Kazuha hesitated for a moment before beginning to write. “Yes. She has been very kind and generous towards me, but I do not want to burden her anymore.”

The wind breezed past slightly, “Whatever you say buddy. Remember to write ‘angels share’ in there somewhere.”

After a long pause, Kazuha furrowed his brow.

“What’s an Angel’s share?”

“You don’t know? Dang, you’re more dense than I thought, and you’re supposed to be a world renown poet! It’s a tavern in Mondstandt, a really lovely place if you ask me.”

“Mondstandt?” Kazuha closed his notepad abruptly, “Isn’t that the city of freedom and Anemo?”

“Sure is.”

Kazuha placed his pen behind his ear, deep in thought. He had only briefly breezed past Mondstandt, but now that he must hide again, it does not seem like a bad idea. Perhaps he could stay in mondstandt for a little while until Beidou gives up, and then proceed to travel further. Yes, sounds like a plan.

It would not take long before he is forgotten about in Liyue harbour, inazuma has already done so. Fugitive or not, being alone was the best thing Kazuha could do. Hiding, running, fighting, writing. It was a frequent cycle for him, but what could he do? Genuinely befriend people? Make real connections?

Not in a million years.

“Alright then.” Kazuha boosted up from his sitting position and dusted himself off. “To mondstandt I go. Maybe I’ll have better inspiration there.”

The wind brushed in his ear, “What’ve you got right now?”

“The sun’s heavy eyes. Where is the mindless dreamer? Angels share.” He sighed, “I cant even make a Haiku properly today.”

Kazuha could hear the wind howling with laughter. His rough draft of a poem must’ve set it in a whirlwind since now Kazuha could barely hear anything at all.

“Are you finished?”

The wind died down as it chuckled, “yeah yeah, I’m good I’m good. That’s hilarious it’s gotta be published in a book or something-“

Kazuha held his finger up to his lips. “Alright alright. Now quiet down, I want to make my journey to Mondstandt peaceful please.”

The wind softened until it was only a faint whisper. Allowing Kazuha to fully take in Liyue for the last time until he has to flee again. The morning birds sang their sweet tune, and the flowers were beginning to bloom off the rising sun. Feeling the grass on his fingertips, the morning dew brushed against his skin. It was cool and refreshing, the bugs and insects seemed to think so as well. The rocky Liyue terrain slowly dissipated, leaving Kazuha in a vast meadow. The sun was high in the sky now, so Kazuha decided to break for lunch at Wangshu inn.

It was not far from where the meadow was situated, and the breeze from the top of the inn allowed for Kazuha to rest his mind. The top balcony watched over Liyue from the south. Walking to the North section of the balcony, it just barely grazed over the monstandt kingdom and the magnificent dragonspine mountain range. Feeling the cool air wisp past him, Kazuha watched over the Liyue skyline peacefully.

“You.”

“Hm?” Kazuha turned his head behind him to see a young man staring him dead in the eye.

His arms were crossed and he stood there with a scowl on his face. He looked to be around the age of a teenager, however from his bright green shoulder tattoo, to the rhombus shaped mark on his forehead, Kazuha knew he was anything but.

“Good afternoon Xiao. I didn’t know adepti came around this part of Liyue, how are you-“

“Don’t play coy with me.” Xiao snarled, advancing towards Kazuha, “The entirety of Liyue harbour has gone batshit crazy because you’ve gone missing.”

Xiao poked his finger at Kazuha’s chest, clearly frustrated.

Kazuha shrugged, throwing his hands up into the air as if he’s been arrested. He continued to stare at Xiao’s fingernail as it slowly indented his chest.

“It’s all going to calm down soon. It won’t be long before I am regarded as a lost cause.” Kazuha looked back to Xiao, who’s eyes were fuming with anger and exhaustion. He felt a twinge of guilt looking at him. Kazuha never meant for Liyue to get wrapped up in this little mess, and he certainly never wanted Xiao to go through the burden of trying to solve it. “Adeptus Xiao, conqueror of demons, I believe it would be better if you maybe, disregard this entire encounter.”

Xiao scoffed, swiftly flicking his finger away from Kazuha, merely scratching his scarf.

“You are a fool, and a pain in the ass.”

“I know,” Kazuha dropped his hands to his side, “so it would just be easier to tell them I’m gone for good. They’ll believe an adepti.”

Xiao didn’t look happy, and Kazuha thought he could fish out a glimpse of concern in Xiao’s eyes.

Xiao sighed in defeat. “I’m letting you go only because I know you won’t get far with this shit. I have been called left and right to go searching for you. People are really worried you know. There are a lot of people in Liyue who really care about your safety, as much as they would another Liyue citizen.”

“Does that mean you as well-“

“Not important.” Xiao glared. “Just, be careful. Wherever the hell you’re going. Don’t be an asshole in the next region.”

Kazuha smiled, outstretching his hand. “Thank you, Xiao. The winds will not forget your kindness, and neither will I.”

“Whatever.”

Xiao dug into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch. He threw the bag to Kazuha, a gentle smile creeping on his face. “It’s mora, you’re gonna need it. Safe travels Kazuha.” He turned his back to him. Xiao stopped and looked towards the ground, the descending sun casting shadows across the inn. He hesitated before speaking. “Take some advice from me, hiding and running away will only get you so far.”

With that, the adepti disappeared within a cloud of hazy green smoke.

“Man that was intense. You sure know how to keep your cool, kid.” The wind breezed past Kazuha, causing his hair to sway ever so slightly.

“You were listening?”

“No duh, Xiao has still got his signature ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude when clearly, he’s super worried.”

Kazuha chuckled, tossing the pouch up into the air and catching it effortlessly. “And how would you know that? What are you, the archon barbatos?”

The wind stopped abruptly. There was no breeze to be heard, even the rustling of the trees fell silent in the eyes of the darkening sky. The silence of the descending scenery was so loud. Did Kazuha say something to offend it?

“Wow you kinda, hit the bullseye with that one.”

After a very long silence, The wind started to pick up again, as much as an evening breeze could of course. The trees could be heard rustling once again, as were the waves pushing against the inn.

“Of course I did.” Kazuha said sarcastically. “Because of course you’re the archon.” He laughed, beginning to make his way back into the comfort of the inn. “Now that I have some mora, I might as well stay for the night. There is no rush after all.”

The wind howled a little aggressively in Kazuha’s ear. “You really don’t believe I’m the archon? Well, cat’s out of the bag so I gotta come clean. I am the great anemo archon Barbatos!“

“Sure you are.”

Kazuha’s eyes began to tire once he was inside. Perhaps the constant travel from the harbour was catching up to him. Nevertheless, the receptionist was unaware of Kazuha and his disappearance, as well as the scarce tenants of the inn. He practically passed out onto the bed the moment he entered his room. His notebook rested beside him, open to his unfinished poem from this morning. Kazuha never knew escaping was so tiring in Liyue, but he could brave it out. He was only half a day’s walk from Mondstandt anyways.

Kazuha could rest easy now, because once again, he had successfully escaped.

(To be continued.)

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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 2 years

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I Can Ease You Pain Chapter Four

NUMBER OF CHAPTERS: 4/5 (Chapter Index)

WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Doctor Tom Hiddleston

GENRE: Drama, Hurt/Comfort (no Romance)

PICTURE CREDIT: Banner made by the amazing @prislaa Prislaa

SONG: Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd (with Bowie) (with Cumberbatch)

WARNINGS: Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Depression and Anxiety

TAGLIST: @sleutherclaw @christineblood @twhiddlestonsstuff

AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you think any of the subjects in this story might have a negative effect on your well-being, please DO NOT read this story. Take care of yourself and don’t worry; you can check out some of my other fics instead that don’t have those warnings on them. Love, F.

SUMMARY You’re an awfully shy and quite awkward person. After an incident at an acquaintance’s party, a close friend takes you to the hospital to get you stitched up from a self-inflicted injury. At the hospital, you’re faced with a choice that might just change your life forever.

Chapter Four: This Is Not How I Am

“I’m not always this quiet,” you told doctor Hiddleston during your meeting. After three weeks, you had begun to feel more accustomed to the hospital environment and felt more comfortable around your psychiatrist.

“I understand. This is an unusual situation to be in,” doctor Hiddleston said. You nodded agreeingly. “Could you perhaps tell me a bit more about what you’re usually like?” he wondered.

“I’m usually not as quiet and I do love to write. It’s been a while since I wrote something creative,” you told him.

“I love writing too,” doctor Hiddleston told you and smiled warmly at you. “How about you just try to write something. Maybe something short, like a haiku? Do you know what that is?”

You nodded and smiled at him. “I suppose I could try to do that,” you agreed.

“Great,” your doctor replied and looked at you expectantly. “How did it go with your friend?” he asked interestedly.

“It went well. It felt good to see them again,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” doctor Hiddleston said. “Have you told anyone else that you’re here? What about your parents?”

“I only told my friend,” you replied. “I don’t want my parents to get worried about me. They live abroads and I don’t want them to come rushing back here for me.”

“I see. I’ve made sure that you’ll get to see a psychiatrist and a psychologist soon after you’ve been discharged from here. They’ll investigate what kind of support you’ll need and make sure you get it. If they don’t do their jobs and help you within a reasonable time period, just call me and I’ll help you,” doctor Hiddleston said and handed you his business card with his contact information on it.

“Thank you,” you said appreciatively and took the card from him.

“I really liked the picture you painted the other day. Maybe that’s something you should continue doing?” the doctor suggested and you smiled.

“I will,” you assured him. “The artist who was here actually gave me a drawing pad, some pencils and watercolours. He got me to promise him that I would keep painting.”

“That’s so nice of him. And I’m so glad to hear that you’ll keep painting,” doctor Hiddleston said and looked genuinely happy for you. “How are you feeling today?”

“I feel okay,” you replied.

“Good. I heard you started going out for daily walks. Behavioural activation is great for treating depression. So keep doing things like taking walks, painting and writing,” doctor Hiddleston said encouragingly.

“I will,” you agreed.

“How do you feel about staying here for a few more days and going back home on either Friday or after the weekend?” your doctor suggested.

“It sounds like a good idea,” you agreed and smiled a little at the thought of going back home to be able to do whatever you liked, whenever you liked.

“I’ll make sure you’ll still be on sick leave for a couple of more weeks after you get discharged. Then your outpatient doctor will take care of those things,” doctor Hiddleston informed you.

“Thank you, doctor Hiddleston,” you said appreciatively and got up from your seat and walked towards the door.

“Please, call me Tom,” he said insistently and smiled warmly at you.

“Okay. See you, Tom,” you told him with a shy smile.

“I’ll see you on Friday, [your name],” Tom replied gleefully.

#DOCTOR TOM HIDDLESTON #doctor Thomas Hiddleston #tom hiddleston doctor #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #psych ward #psychiatric ward #psychiatrist tom hiddleston #psychiatrist #i can ease your pain #comfortably numb #hurt/comfort #pink floyd #songfic #comfortably numb by pink floyd

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much-obliged-timothy · 3 years

Text

So I was reading a fanfic for a different fandom where a character ends up the single father of an oops baby and...

Anyway, here’s a totally self-indulgent “what if Tim accidentally had a child” fic ft. Rhys accidentally befriending the kid and being very panicked about it (and yes I will be more than happy to write more of this weird AU if anyone wants to read it)

Rhys paced his office nervously. “Zer0, did I make a mistake? Oh my god. I can’t believe I agreed to employ a doppelganger of Handsome Jack.”

The vault hunters had contacted him with an absolutely bizarre story. While invading Handsome Jack’s casino, they’d found his sole surviving doppelganger, a man named Timothy Lawrence. Timothy had been all too eager to get out of the casino once they’d claimed it for themselves, but had nowhere to go and, they’d warned, was lacking a bit in his social skills after seven years of being locked in a casino where almost everyone wanted him dead.

Still, the man had apparently proved highly adept at business when they needed help getting issues for the casino sorted. Moxxi thought he’d be an asset to Rhys, appearances aside.

Rhys had them send over a resume and some examples of Timothy’s work, and was surprised to find that Tim was actually highly skilled at business negotiations and research. He had experience helping Hyperion develop new weapons and other various tech, and had worked as a vault hunter for Jack at one point, giving him valuable combat experience.

So Rhys had agreed to take him on, at least on a trial period to see how things went. Today was the day Tim would arrive, and Rhys couldn’t stop fretting that Tim would be too similar to Jack to bear.

“He helped Jack rise to power, they said,” Rhys babbled, his anxiety growing. “What if he’s just like Jack? I don’t think I can take that ego again. This is such a mistake!”

Zer0 watched him pace, but offered no comfort. He didn’t seem to have any concerns over the situation.

There was a knock on the door and Rhys froze, shooting a look at Zer0. Zer0 touched his gun then gestured to the door, a silent assurance that he would handle it if things got out of hand.

Rhys didn’t enjoy the thought of anyone being shot in his office, but he enjoyed the thought of being protected from Handsome Jack 2.0. “Come in.”

The door swung open and in came Handsome Jack. Rhys stared at his face for a long moment before shaking himself. Tim’s hair was longer than Jack’s, the mask on his face cracked. He had a cybernetic hand that was fidgeting with the visitor badge pinned to his jacket. He certainly had Jack’s sense of how to dress for the job; he wore jeans and a hoodie with a jacket over it instead of anything dressy.

Tim noticed Rhys eyeing his clothes and shifted awkwardly. “Uh, sorry. No money to buy anything nicer right now. I’m Timothy Lawrence. I know the mask has to go, too, but I’m arranging to have these stupid clips removed with it.”

Rhys processed his words, but only distantly. When Tim had shifted, he’d revealed that he wasn’t alone.

Tim again noticed where Rhys’s gaze went, and fidgeted more with his pass. “So, the job? Moxxi got me set up with a place to live nearby for now. I just moved in yesterday, so I’m ready to start whenever you need me to.”

Rhys continued staring. He had not been informed that Tim wouldn’t be coming alone.

Tim sighed quietly and nudged the little boy out from behind his legs. The boy stared distrustfully at Rhys, clutching a tattered teddy bear with the Hyperion logo on its stomach to himself.

“This is my son, Phoenix,” Tim explained. “I, uh, don’t exactly have a sitter. Hard to have contacts when you’ve been locked in a casino for seven years.”

Obviously Tim had found a way to pass the time. The boy couldn’t be any older than five or six, with skin a few shades darker than Tim’s, messy, ruddy hair, a splattering of freckles over his cheeks and nose, and hazel eyes. His left eye had a familiar strip of blue amongst the hazel.

“You said I get my own office? Can I see it?” Tim said, shooting Rhys a pleading look.

“Oh, um, right, yes,” Rhys said, fixing his already straight tie.

“Hey, stay here. We’ll be right back,” Tim said.

The boy’s eyes widened in terror, but Tim smiled and ruffled his hair. Phoenix clutched at Tim’s jacket.

“I’ll be right back,” Tim repeated. “That guy there? He was a vault hunter, just like I was. He’ll keep an eye on you for a few minutes.”

Phoenix looked over his shoulder at Zer0. His curiosity seemed to win out over his distrust as he eyed Zer0.

Tim took the opportunity to slip out of the room, Rhys following. They walked in awkward silence until they reached the office Rhys had secured for Tim.

“Okay,” Tim said, shutting the door as soon as they were inside. “Look, I kinda had a, uh, thing with a friend named Ember. We’d been stuck in that casino for a while at that point and everyone was trying to kill me and we just- got careless a few times. Phoenix was born in that damned place. He lived his whole life in there, hidden between me, Ember, and a friend of Ember’s from the vice district. Ember told me to take him with me to Promethea so he could experience life in the real world. Not that this shithole planet is fancy living, but-” He stopped and groaned. “Sorry, injected with Jack’s DNA. Anyways, please, he’s scared to be alone.”

No one had warned Rhys that in addition to getting a traumatized employee, he’d be getting the man’s traumatized son as well. But what was he going to do? Turn him out onto the streets?

Rhys sighed quietly. He hated kids, mostly because he had no idea how to talk to them and they frightened him.

“He can’t go into meetings with you,” he said at last.

Tim looked so relieved that Rhys didn’t even regret the decision. “Thank you. Really, thank you. Oh, finally, a CEO who isn’t an absolute dick. He’s no trouble, really. He’ll stay in my office with me, and he thinks everyone wants to kill him so it’s not like he’ll go bothering anyone.”

At Rhys’s startled look, Tim grimaced. He touched his mask and shrugged.

“Look, I’m not going to lie. My kid is…” He cursed softly. “I didn’t want that for him. But I had no choice. I started teaching him about guns when he was three. We taught him how to hide, and not to trust anyone. It was the only way we could keep him safe. It’s going to take time to break him of all that. B-But I’m a good worker! I won’t make you regret this! Well, I mean, the occasional Jack moments probably will, but other than that, no regrets. I hope.”

This was too much to handle right now. “You need to go get fingerprinted downstairs. Then we’ll get you settled and go over your schedule and duties.”

Business. He could do business. He couldn’t do a traumatized Handsome Jack doppelganger with a paranoid son.

“Right, let me just go let Phoenix know,” Tim said, opening the office door.

“That’s a cool name,” Rhys said as they started along the hallway.

Tim shrugged again. “Ember wanted something with fire. I guess we thought it was fitting, since he was born in the wake of Jack’s death and my, uh, sort of freedom. I mean, I still had a bomb in my face and was trapped in a casino. But no more Jack ordering me about.”

He at least didn’t sound bothered by Jack’s death, so Rhys took some comfort in the fact that Tim appeared not to hold any loyalty to his former boss. Moxxi had claimed Timothy hated Jack, but Rhys was still worried after everything he’d been through with the AI Jack.

They stepped back into Rhys’s office, and Phoenix was immediately back at his father’s side, clutching Tim’s jacket in one hand and his bear in the other. Tim squeezed his shoulder and gently pried his hand off.

“I need to go get fingerprinted, Phoenix,” he said. “I’m just going to be right downstairs.”

The kid looked torn. Rhys felt a flash of pity.

“It should only be fifteen minutes if they’re not busy,” he said. Maybe knowing how long Tim would be gone would calm the kid.

“Fifteen minutes,” Tim said, smiling. “That’s nothin’, pal. I take longer in the shower.”

“You take forever in the shower,” Phoenix said, but grabbed Tim’s jacket again.

Once again, Tim gently pried his hand away. “Fifteen minutes, pal. Then I’ll be back.”

Phoenix watched his father leave the room and began to pace silently, keeping Rhys, Zer0, and the door in view as he did so. He was rubbing the band of a watch strapped to his wrist, far too big for him. Rhys realized it was a digistruct watch, and sat down in the hopes he wouldn’t spook the kid into summoning whatever was stored in there.

Phoenix kept shooting a look to Rhys’s cybernetic arm, looking like he wanted to say something. He kept snapping his eyes back to the door, but his gaze would drift back to the arm.

Rhys finally held it up. “It’s, uh, it’s an Atlas cybernetic. State of the art.”

“Dad has one,” he said, holding up his hand. “He lost his hand in the casino.”

“That’s because Handsome Jack is a controlling asshole,” Rhys said, then snapped his mouth shut. Shit, could he swear in front of kids? Was that legal?

But Phoenix stared at him, slowing his pacing. “You knew him?”

“Sort of,” Rhys said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We...worked together? Sort of? He tried to kill me. Not a good time.”

The distrust on his face evaporated a little. “He locked my mom and dad in the casino. Dad said he’s a freaking asshole. But I’m not s’posed to call anyone else that word.” He pointed to his eye with the sliver of blue in it. “Dad said that was Jack’s last ‘screw you’.”

Rhys stared at Zer0 for help. He hadn’t expected to shit talk Jack with a little kid today, and wasn’t sure what to do now that it had started.

“Much more lively now/He must like you a lot Rhys/You have made a friend,” Zer0 said.

“You talk funny,” Phoenix said.

“He speaks in haikus,” Rhys explained. “Well, mostly.”

Phoenix frowned. “I dunno that language. My mom speaks French.”

Rhys laughed in surprise. “Oh, no, it’s not a language. It’s a type of poetry.”

“Oh,” Phoenix said, then shrugged in a movement that perfectly mimicked Tim’s.

Rhys couldn’t help but stare a little as the boy resumed his pacing. He wondered if any of his features had been inherited from Tim’s original appearance. He wondered if it was hard for Tim to look at his kid and see both himself and Jack in him.

Rhys busied himself with paperwork to keep from staring any longer. However, as fifteen minutes passed, and then another five, and then even more, Phoenix’s pacing grew faster.

He rubbed at the band of his watch more, eyes locked on the door. He looked terrified, checking the time yet again and hugging his bear tighter.

“They were probably just busy,” Rhys said, because as much as he didn’t like kids, he felt bad seeing one break down right in front of him. “He’s okay.”

“What if he’s dead?” His voice cracked a little and he paced even faster, clutching the bear so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Rhys got up and slowly approached. “Hey. Hey, Phoenix. It’s safe here, okay? No one here will hurt him. I promise.”

“But he looks like that freaking asshole!” Phoenix said, pointing at his eye again.

“I know, but I warned my people he’d be coming today. They all know he isn’t really Jack. No one is going to hurt your dad,” Rhys assured. Phoenix still looked scared and frantic, so Rhys tried a different approach. He held his cybernetic hand out and let an image come up in his palm. “Have you ever seen a skag before?”

Phoenix nodded his head, looking torn between watching the door and looking at the holographic image. “Uh-huh. But just one.”

Rhys let the holograph play out. “Look how they run! I got stuck on Pandora years ago, and these things were scary.”

“Pandora?” He tugged at the ear of his bear. “Dad said it’s a shithole. I’m not s’posed to say that, though. Mom gets mad and says dad has a dirty mouth.”

“It kind of is a shithole,” Rhys agreed. “Promethea is much better. I think you’ll like it here. You and your dad can explore this weekend when he’s not working.”

His eyes shot to the door again. “But he’s not back!”

“He’ll come back,” Rhys said. “I won’t let anyone hurt him while he’s here. I promise.”

His eyes widened and he looked at Rhys. He seemed torn between distrust and hope.

The matter was settled as Tim reappeared in the room, looking out of breath. “Sorry. Some freaking idiot down there couldn’t find her ID and held up the whole line. I- Umph!”

Phoenix launched himself at Tim, wrapping his little arms around Tim’s waist tightly. There were tears silently rolling down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey.” Tim knelt down and hugged him, kissing his head. “I’m okay. I’m right here, pal. I’m okay. I’m sorry I took so long.”

He stood up with Phoenix in his arms, running gentle fingers through his messy hair. Phoenix nuzzled his head against Tim’s neck, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, kissing him again. “I have shitty time management skills. Oops, don’t tell your mom I swore again.”

Phoenix put an arm around Tim’s neck to hold onto him. “Dad, this guy showed me a skag. On his hand!”

“‘This guy’ is my boss,” Tim said. “A skag, huh? Can’t say I missed Pandora’s brand of cannon fodder creatures.”

“You and me both,” Rhys said, standing up.

“Can you show dad?” Phoenix said, pointing to Rhys’s hand. “They look so stupid.”

Rhys brought up the image again. With his dad safely back with him, Phoenix was much more interested, peering at it with curious eyes.

Tim wiggled the fingers of his cybernetic hand. “Yea, mine doesn’t do that. Cool, though.”

“One of the vault hunters who saved us had a skag,” Phoenix said. “And a...a...something else.”

“Jabber. You saw their jabber,” Tim said. “Shit-flinging, obnoxious beasts.”

Phoenix tightened his hold on Tim. “You’re not s’posed to swear, dad.” He gave Tim the hint of a grin. “Gotta shut me up.”

“Ice cream it is,” Tim said with a long sigh. “After work, though. I’ve got to earn money to afford to bribe you, pal. So, let’s get on with it, Rhys.”

Rhys took Tim and showed him around a bit before bringing him back to his office. As Tim had assured, Phoenix was quiet the whole time, just clinging to Tim. When they reached the office, he sat in a chair in the corner, playing with his tattered bear and not bothering either man as they went over Tim’s schedule and duties.

“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in and do the basic paperwork,” Rhys said, shaking Tim’s hand. “If you have any questions, you know where my office is. You’ll be primarily reporting to me.”

“Hey,” Phoenix said as Rhys headed for the door. He was clutching his bear tightly again, glancing from his dad to Rhys before blurting out, “Can you tell me about Pandora sometime?”

“Oh,” Rhys said in surprise. “Yea, sure. I mean, a lot of my experience involves me being in fear for my life. But, sure.”

“Hey, been there done that on Elpis, kiddo,” Tim said. “Phoenix, let him get back to work. You can help me get some papers organized, if you want.”

Phoenix hopped off the chair. “M’kay, dad. See ya, boss guy.”

Rhys left the office and stared at the door once he’d closed it. Today had not gone as he’d expected, not at all. And he had a sinking feeling he’d accidentally made the kid like him.

Great. He’d been so worried about dealing with a Handsome Jack doppelganger, and now his bigger problem was a small, curious child. Rhys wondered if life would ever let him catch a break.

Part 2

#borderlands #timothy lawrence #borderlands rhys #rhys strongfork #borderlands au #borderlands fic #My writing

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 5 years

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Good Intentions

Ao3

Based off this post. You guys really seemed to like it, so here you go.

The plan to ruin Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s reputation and credibility was well under way. And while there had been a bump in the road with Bustier undoing her seat switch plan at the end of the day, Lila still considered the day a victory. After all, she managed to sow the seeds of distrust, and the class managed to believe her over Marinette. She gave the baker girl maybe a month, tops, before everything came crashing down on her, and with no way to prove that Lila had anything to do with it.

Of course, there was still the issue of Adrien, but he was a pushover. All he wanted was to make friends! He had no spine, and it would only be a matter of time before she had him twisted around her little finger.

That night, maybe an hour or so before retiring to bed, she hatches her next plan and hits up Alya with a text:

L: Hey, Alya? Could I have Marinette’s number? I’d like to work things out with her and maybe even get her opinion on some clothes??

Usually, for texts like these, she gets a pretty immediate response. She even gets the animation indicating that Alya is typing a message, only for it to stop and no message to be sent. Frowning, she places the phone down on her desk as she goes about browsing social media profiles of her classmates and the stars she’s supposedly schmoozed with, checking to see if there are any new updates. About thirty minutes pass when Alya finally responds, and Lila can’t help but roll her eyes at what might have possibly kept Alya for so long.

A: heyyy, i think it’s great u want to get along w Mari, but i think it’s better 2 give her some space after 2day. but if it’s an emergency, i can ask her 4 u!

Squinting her eyes, she gives the text a long, hard glance before realizing that it’s real. It has to be some sort of joke. There’s no real reason Alya should be hesitant in giving her something like this.

L: I was worried about this. Marinette must really hate me if she doesn’t even want to give me her number!

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face as she waits for the inevitable anxious reply. Surely, Alya wouldn’t want her new friend to feel so left out and targeted, right? Once again, the texting animation is quickly evident, and she can practically hear Alya apologizing for making her feel so bad about it.

A: i swear it’s not like that!!! just give her some time & she’ll warm up, i swear!! so how about those outfits!?

Scowling, she quickly responds with a half-hearted “never mind, I’ll ask Clara’s designer instead,” and tosses the phone across the room onto her bed with a sigh. Perhaps it’s just a fluke, and maybe tomorrow, when Lila comes face to face with Alya, she can corner her into giving up Marinette’s number. It’s not something she should be this worried about anyway, but if she’s going to forge fake messages, she needs to make it look like they had contact with each other.

For now, that idea is on hold. Still, there’s plenty of ways to shake things up the next morning.

---

While having a position of power made you respected, it also made you stress out over every other little thing, and put you in a position of criticism. Thankfully, Lila doesn’t have to contend with the responsibilities of Class Rep, and can instead content herself to push Marinette’s buttons instead.

“...And the class vs class picnic will be happening next Friday,” she says, finishing the morning announcements, “Please make sure to bring athletic attire to change into, because we will be getting messy. Does anyone have any questions?”

Oh boy, does Lila ever. She meekly raises her hand, making sure at least one or two other classmates note the wary expression on her face. Biting back a sigh, Marinette points to her and asks, “Yes?”

“Um, well, I’m not sure I can handle anything outdoorsy,” she pouts, holding out her hand, “My wrist is busted and I can’t really throw anything.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Mylene interrupts, smiling cheerfully, “We made sure to include some non-athletic activities, like making friendship bracelets and writing nature haikus! If you don’t want to use pen and paper, you should be able to bring your tablet!”

With her lips curling inward, Lila has to bite back a dark glare. Something was definitely up. She’s not sure what, but Marinette must have told them something about the previous day. It’s difficult to tell because Marinette doesn’t have a very distinctive expression, but Lila would be a fool to believe otherwise.

And she would certainly not be that.

“That’s very nice of you to think of me,” she says, trying to bite back tears, “But, um, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to go that day, anyway. I’m supposed to be volunteering at a charity event to help reduce carbon emissions. Is it possible that we could have the picnic a day earlier? Or the next week?”

Some glances are exchanged in the rows before conversation breaks out. As she expects, Marinette’s face contorts with annoyance, and she opens her mouth to say something, but she’s cut off by Alya, who places a hand on her shoulder, and shakes her head. Turning to Lila, she says, “Actually, me and Mari spent a lot of time organizing this event with the other student reps, and it wouldn’t be fair to suddenly reschedule like that. But I assure you that we have some other events in the future that we’ll be more easily able to take your schedule into account, just as long as you tell us ahead of time, Lila.”

“Oh,” she pouts, blinking as rapidly as she can. “That’s too bad. I was really looking forward to going too…” she says with a sigh.

“Well,” Mylene offers, “We can always throw you a picnic another day. That way, Marinette and the other student reps don’t have to worry about all that rescheduling, and you can still have fun hanging out with us. Right, guys?”

The chattering, the annoying, annoying chattering grows more excited, as if they already have it planned in stone. As though they no longer have to give Lila anymore thought or concern. Of course, she’d have to be gracious and just accept it, right?

There’s still no sign from Marinette that she’s in on it, or that she’s satisfied with the turn out. For someone who hates lying so much, she must be pretty good at it. There’s no way she’s innocent.

Still, Lila has no choice but to playfully bat her eyes and practically coo at the suggestion. “You’re all just so wonderful! I would love that, of course!”

A pen snaps in her hands, and the ink covers the knee of her leggings. But her forced smile doesn’t falter for a second, lest she want to draw unwanted attention.

---

Marinette is naive to leave her backpack by itself, without a single eye to watch it. It seems that Chloe failed at her job at instilling fear in the school, if Marinette was going around carefree without any sort of protection. But that leaves Lila free to sneak into her bag and plant the answers for the test that they finished taking-

A sudden, squeakish voice interrupts, causing her to drop the paper.

“There you are, Lila!” Rose says cheerfully, “What are you doing?”

Jumping, it takes her a moment to realize she’s dropped the paper. She unfortunately can’t see where it landed, and she finds herself sputtering, sputtering, her response, “O-Oh, Rose! I-I was just… I found Marinette’s backpack!”

“Oh, she was looking for that!” Rose says, picking it up and hugging it to her chest, “That’s awfully nice of you, Lila! Marinette was looking for that.”

“It’s not a big deal! I just wanted to help out a friend, you know?”

“You really are a sweetheart, you know?” Rose says, patting her shoulder, “Still, I think we’re better off just telling Marinette it was in the lost or found.”

She blinks. “What? Why?”

“Well, we don’t want to give Marinette the wrong idea,” Rose points out, “You might be trying to help her, but knowing her, she’ll probably think you tampered with her stuff.”

“I can’t believe she thinks so little of me,” Lila sniffs, “I’m only trying to help.”

“Oh, we know,” Rose says, patting her shoulder, “And someday she’ll be able to see that. But I think she’s really coming around. Just a little more time and she’ll see just how cool you really are!”

As they leave the area, Lila waits for a moment to sneak back into the backpack, but the opportunity never presents itself. Soon enough, Marinette is reunited with her backpack, and Lila knows from her narrowed leer, she’s bound to search through the bag to make sure it wasn’t tampered with.

There is no doubt in her mind that this is deliberate sabotage. Marinette said something to get these goons to follow her around and interrupt at the most opportune and least convenient moments. Plan after plan, ruined because they “don’t want Marinette getting the wrong impression of her!”

Well, with any luck, that was going to stop today.

She is quick to follow Marinette into the bathroom and pin her against the walls.

“So, you think you’re so smart, huh? Getting your friends to keep an eye on me and keep you out of trouble?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Stop lying!” Lila shouts, “Playing stupid isn’t your forte! I know you said something about me to them to ruin my plans! Well, guess what? I have plenty of methods that’ll get you expelled.”

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Lila?” Alya’s booming voice calls out, holding a phone in front of her. Behind her are Alix, Mylene, Rose and Juleka, who all share darkened expressions and are ready to voice their distaste. She has to think of something quick if she’s going to recover and get control of the situation again.

“A-Alya,” she stammers, trying to force a smile, “M-Marinette was just, um, she was bullying me! Can you believe it?”

“No, I can’t,” Alya retorts, “Because I just captured footage for the past few minutes of you attacking Marinette in the bathroom and threatening to get her expelled! And after everything we did for you, trying to help you get along with her, especially at Adrien’s suggestion!” She clicks her tongue.

Blinking, she looks from Marinette back to Alya. Adrien? Adrien was the one to calculate this plan? She supposed it would make some degree of sense - Adrien was hardly the type to get his hands dirty when he had assistants and money to do that for him. Still, there was no way the boy with the least amount of backbone in the entire school would go out of his way to sabotage her, especially not for Marinette.

“You’re a liar,” Lila hisses, before trying to smile again, “Adrien would never suggest something so diabolical.”

“Since when was trying to help people get along diabolical?” Alix points out, “If anyone is headed toward the realm of villainy and bullying, it’s you. Anything else you want to confess to?”

And for once, Lila’s out of stories to spin.

#ml salt #ml salt fic #lila salt #lila exposed #salty writes #good intentions au

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duratrans · 3 years

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Satoshi Mizukami Q&A, 2/3

Satoshi Mizukami recently took questions from the editor's desk, and publicly from write-ins, for an interview to celebrate the first volume of Solte going on sale (Jan 9th!). So I translated them all! It’s in three parts, so I’ll post them one by one.

Here is the second section, revolving around Sengoku Youko and his other works.

Q: In Sengoku Youko, we were wondering about the history between Tama and Kuzunoha that led to their mother-daughter relationship. We know Tama was actually born from the ancient fox spirit Tamamo-no-Mae, so Kuzunoha must have adopted her, right? A: When Tamamo-no-Mae transformed into the Sessho-seki stone, which killed anyone who came near, a monk called Gennou Shinsho destroyed the rock, sending fragments of Tamamo's being flying near and far. (that's the actual legend from wikipedia. As for my plan to tie it to the story...) Kuzunoha found the fragmented portion that became Tama, and decided to take it in basically to kill time. I couldn't find a spot to fit that part of their history in, and eventually just left it.

Q: What happened to Kuzunoha after Yazen's death? Does she leave in search of a new love? Personally, I would find it more poetic for Yazen to have been the last man she ever embraced, seeing how she was willing to die for him! A: She would take on a disguise, probably a female monk, and nurse her broken heart for many years. Of course, being an unaging youkai, she could never stay in one place too long, and would move around, until one day she meets someone new. Just the way she's always done. That's how it is for a youkai. You do what you've always done.

Q: You did judo in high school and kenpo in college, and we know you liked the matches and sparring but hated working out, so you've coined your own nickname as "the limp-armed berserker" on twitter before. Did Douren and Thousand-Tale Jinka's love of battle come from a familiar place? A: Insofar as the feeling of "yeah, fighting is fun!" might be rooted somewhere in there, I guess so. The idea of a real fight still makes me nervous, though.

Q: Senya and Tsukiko's village is protected by the barrier that makes it invisible, which has kept it relatively isolated from the larger world. Did they also manage to stay independent from the sweeping administrative changes that changed Japan, like Toyotomi Hideyoshi's restriction of arms to the samurai caste or the land census, or the Edo period's capitol attendance policy, isolationism, and welfare laws, just to name a few? A: All of it. Passed 'em right by.

Q: In the story, we learn Mudo took up a number of hobbies like go, shogi, haiku, bonsai, etc. If Mudo was living today, what kind of pastimes would he be into? I get the impression he'd be sinking cash into mobile games and Gacha. A: Mudo is a fighting game/FPS gamer. I don't think he'd be as interested in stuff like mobile games that don't take player skill into account as much.

Q: After Jinka and Tama married, did Jinka change how he addressed her? As in, did he start to have a pet name or something like that for her? I'd love to know! (I'm guessing Tama still just calls him "Jinka," but if that changed I'd love to know, too!) -Negurano A: This didn't really change for them, no.

Q: What kind of person is Mudo's sister? -Weekend A: Didn't really plan her out.

Q: So many characters in Sengoku Youko had incredibly impactful, memorable death scenes. If Senya or any of the rest of the cast that were around when the story ended had to go, how would you envision it? -Namamono A: How would I kill off the characters that didn't die? That's a weird one. I was never going to create scenes that aren't part of the the story, so I got nothing for that.

Q: Did you have any additional self-contained stories from the Youko universe that you wanted to draw? For instance, maybe something with Tama and Senya and their life together as lovers, and how that's going! -Neko A: If I had too much free time on my hands, or it was for work, I might come up with something but I don't really have any ideas at the moment.

Q: Did you have a favorite part or arc of Sengoku Youko? -Kokoronohito A: I like the ending.

Q: I wish Ufotable could do an anime adaption of Youko. Although, I also think Kyoani would do a very nice Tama... -Akane A: Is there a question in there?

Q: Can you give us your top three characters, and your favorite three parts of the story? -Akane A: For characters, it'd be Yazen, Tago, and Hanatora. I guess for the scenes I like best, there's the ending, Senya and Mudo's showdown in volume 9, and the final battle between Senya and Jinka.

Q: How did you come up with the nonsense dialog for the mad gods? Was there any reference or inspiration behind the dog, the whale, the rabbit, or the others? -Gen A: Nothing in particular. I just tried to string things together that would make absolutely no sense. I did want to hide some hints or foreshadowing in the babble, but it didn't really work.

(note: back to editorial for one question) Q: When The Man of Legend was published in Geko Geko back in 2004, you said Yamanaka was probably the most powerful out of all your characters. Does he still wear the crown here in the year 2021? A: I'd have to say at this point he's been dethroned.

Q: I really liked Soon Ken and Penta in Sanjin Sadou, so I was wondering where the idea of a sake-loving penguin came from. -Leviah A: I can't remember in the least.

Q: Akitani Inachika (Swordfish knight from Biscuit Hammer) obtained knowledge of all things, and Hakke Neko has the all-seeing eye. They existed at very different times, but is there any connection between the two? -Abuson A: There's no connection.

#mizukami satoshi #satoshi mizukami #sengoku youko #lucifer and the biscuit hammer #sanjin sadou

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letsmisfits · 4 years

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PTSD Pathfinder: Part 1

I wanted to call this, “The Wary Traveler,” but some a-holes from Canada beat me to it. I don’t actually think they’re assholes, but I felt threatened and wanted to assert my dominance. I checked out their website, I didn’t read anything, but it actually seems pretty tits. I’ll think of a better name at some point in the future. Also, I may have posted this under a different username somewhere on this website. I remember doing it, but can’t remember my username. So if anyone is reading this, I promise I’m not plagiarizing. Fun fact, it is plagiarism to not cite oneself. I made a Haiku about that when I first learned about it. “Just today I learned, that it is plagiarism, to not cite oneself.” Moving forward.

PTSD Pathfinder: Part 1 (I hate this fucking title so god damn much)

PTSD is an illness with a mind of its own. From its home base situated deep within your brain it directs operations. It's goal, on the surface at least, is to keep you safe. The brain doesn't like trauma, and so it goes out of its way to prevent further trauma from happening...or at least that's the idea. Oftentimes the way this plays out makes things a whole lot worse, especially if you're in high school, god what a mess that shit was.

Recently I likened it to living with two versions of myself. First there is "Me," and then there is "trauma me." I don't capitalize "trauma me," because frankly, he's a fucking dick. Not only to himself, but to other people. For example, when my roommate comes home and opens the garage, "trauma me," gets all pissy and my roommates friendly "howdy," is met with a short and forced, "hi." How does someone get so flustered by a garage being opened?! And who the fuck opens up with, "howdy?"

This happens to us all the time. The most innocuous things seem to send us into a death spiral. A combination of anxiety, anger, self-loathing, and sadness.

The other thing to know about humans, is that we NEED to connect with others to stay healthy. This is why Tom Hanks had to become best friends with a volleyball in Cast Away (I know I shouldn't be, but I'm still bitter about his woman leaving him in that movie). The thing about PTSD is that it wants the exact opposite. Truly connecting with other people when you have been through trauma is not on the agenda.

So there you are, stuck on the one hand wanting nothing to do with people (the reasons are endless, "they'll want to talk to me, they'll will try and attack me, they will do ______ to me"). On the other hand, you are sad because you want nothing more than to connect to people. It's a bit of a problem. Not only do you not want to connect to people, you end up afraid of the world as a whole. Like yes, I could go to the park today, but it's better I stay home and watch TV. Yes, I could go to that party, but what if one of the three hundred scenarios that have played out in my brain come to fruition? Then you end up feeling like you've wasted your day. The cycle continues.

Recently I was faced with the mild, and by mild I mean a 0.0013%, chance that I had multiple sclerosis. The other thing about PTSD if you haven't gathered already, is that you are anxious all the time about EVERYTHING. Even the smallest things can cause problems for some of us. I once dated a woman who was afraid to get ice cream for herself when we were at the store...she asked for my ice cream later that night and after providing her with a bowel of that delicious frozen sugar, I asked her why she didn't get ice cream when we were talking about it at the store. Turns out this was quite an anxiety provoking process for her (I hope the people who caused this issue for her die, slowly).

Anywho, since I was faced with the prospect of immobility and death, I decided I needed to go out more. However, this is a bit tricky due to the ole PTSD. Today I said fuck it and decided to venture out into the world farther than I normally would on my own. A 37-minute drive later and I was at 7 Bridges Park in South Milwaukee, WI. I got to a bluff and climbed down the 100 or so feet to the beach. It was mostly empty which is just what I like, save for the couple with their dog walking towards me.

Why do people have to walk towards me? Can they just yield? Take a rest while I walk by at a safe distance? What do they want? What if they say hello? What if they stop to talk to me? What if their dog comes close to me? Do I pet it? Then what happens? These are the thoughts that run through my mind just about every time I encounter people in the world. They walk by, I'm safe. BUT WAIT. The beach ends, now I have to turn around...guess who's taking their sweet fucking time enjoying life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?

I had to stop and pretend to marvel at the scenery like four times so I didn't have to be next to them. Don't get me wrong, the scenery was pretty sweet, but you can only look at a giant body of water so many times before it loses its luster. Eventually I got back up the bluff and kept climbing. I had to convince myself to take a more risky path because that's the opposite of what my PTSD wanted. It then occurred to me:

There have to be a bunch of people just like me out there...wanting to live life but afraid to do so because of the ten thousand things that could go wrong. Maybe in my travels and desire to be with the world and find myself n shit, I can start documenting my experience for others? It could help some people. There's also a small chance that it could be really impactful someday; maybe I could make a living as a blogger (I think the odds are pretty slim on that one).

So here I am, making a blog. I don't know anything about blogs. I don't know how to write them, where to post them, who to talk to about them. Nothing. But I know that I have a reason to go outside next weekend, which is great. Maybe someone will find value in this..…then I would have no choice. I would have to go outside. I would have to talk to that person. I would have to leave the country (I would start with Canada as there is a fairly limited chance of being murdered there...not that there is an increased chance in most places, but this is how my brain works). I would have to do all of the things that PTSD doesn't want me to do.

Maybe if someone finds value in this, it could be like the man in- the- hole story. I heard it on The West Wing (which is full of fun parables).

"This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, 'Hey you. Can you help me out?' The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, 'Father, I'm down in this hole can you help me out?' The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by, 'Hey, Joe, it's me can you help me out?' And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, 'Are you stupid? Now we're both down here.' Joe says, 'Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out.'"

Update: I changed my name :)

#PTSD #Travel #Therapy #Mental Heatlh #Psychology #Social Work #Brain

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thegreenfaery · 3 years

Text

All Roads Lead to Sleaford

Somewhere in between writing nonsensical fanfic, it would appear that I have slowly, but surely, been penning a whole load of poetry, because... umm... I have no excuse. I may or may not have designs on completing an actual book of children’s stories (a year’s worth of bedtime tales, to be precise).

Which is going well, actually. I’m very much in the zone and now only have... errr... 361 to go?

My limited audience of human child guinea pigs is probably sick of poems by now, so I attended an open mic poetry night last week to try and give them some reprieve from my rubbish. (As for actual guinea pig child guinea pigs, I have access to loads because Mum breeds them. They tell me they love the poems, but they could just be saying that because I have the bucket of veg and they’ll do anything for some cucumber.)

The open mic night was hilarious; it was mostly attended by posh, pretentious knobs who seemed to think that they were the next Poet Laureate. Now, I’m not saying that it was like attending a Squad 6 Kuchiki affair, but also that’s exactly what I’m saying.

It has now been determined that for the next one, I shall be regaling haikus about cats. Possibly an epic tanka-style saga about the fleeting, ephemeral beauty of sakura blossoms. If anyone has any other suggestions or requests, do let me know*.

Anyway, the past few days have had me feeling especially nostalgic, and this was the result. (Probably works best with an English accent; route rhymes with boot, which is the trunk of a car for those of you across the pond.)

**Drum roll please**

All Roads Lead to Sleaford

Often, I think back to those long summer fortnights

Searching for magic hidden in mythical lands.

Always we’d find it in our imaginations,

In ragged tors, forests, or on golden sands.

Beside me, Grandad, an intrepid explorer,

Or maybe a smuggler, pirate, wizard, or mage

Out hunting for dragons or mermaids by rock pools;

Storybook characters brought to life from the page.

Before this, of course, came the packing of the car,

How it all fitted in still confounds us today.

Every summer, Nan would tick off her checklist,

And early one morning we’d be well on our way.

Nestled in pillows, I’d watch the world awaken,

As flat Fenland earth rolled into beautiful hills.

I’d be in charge of a veritable bounty,

An enormous mountain for our sugary fills.

And halfway to Cornwall, Grandad thinks of his hat;

It’s sat, quite forgotten, on the bed far behind.

During the checklist he insisted he’d packed it,

Much like the windbreak in the loft filled with its kind.

We’d known it was coming, by now a tradition,

And once more, Nan double checks the route he has planned.

As with the map, he ignores every road sign;

He’s been here before, everything is in hand.

It’s then when we notice, my cackle erupting;

All of a sudden, “This is the wrong way!” he cries,

“Oh, shut up, you ratbag. I just hate clever kids!”

And Navigator Nan just sits rolling her eyes.

But somehow we get there and the car is unloaded,

And the tent is erect in record-breaking time.

And beneath the canvas, this place is a palace,

With curtains and windows and not one speck of grime.

And although the journey was fun while it lasted,

We can’t wait to get going and survey the land.

And now that we’re here, it all begins in earnest;

For adventures and thrills await this merry band.

And Grandad is Merlin, or maybe King Arthur,

As I transform and become Morgana le Fay.

I’ll never be a princess; they’re far too boring,

At heart I’m a witch, and that’s always been my way.

And as long as we duel, Nan will keep on watching,

There to remind us that “It’ll all end in tears.”

But if ever it did, I can’t quite remember,

Those memories faded in the passing of years.

Today it’s a castle that we are attacking,

Tomorrow a cove, where we’ll be peddling rum.

And every day, we’ll be looking for postcards,

For I must pen these stories and send them to Mum.

And at bedtime, we’ll find the tent’s filled with dragons,

As their flames speak to others in flickering lights.

And Grandad will grumble and moan about torches,

And those who’ll be locked outside for ensuing nights.

But the time will come when our fun is all over,

That unhappy, final day when we must depart.

But new friends will join me in the back of the car;

A treasure trove of memories held in my heart.

The journey back home is mostly uneventful,

We didn’t get lost, merely took the scenic route.

One thing I’ve learned is that all roads lead to Sleaford,

And if I don’t stop laughing, I’ll be in the boot.

#i'm very unfashionable #my poetry rhymes #I count syllables #There was a leprechaun called Billy #Whose friends thought a little bit silly #He #went through the drama #Of lassoing a llama #And now they both live in Loughgilly #Certified queen of the limerick #poetry

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chiaki-translation · 4 years

Text

Luminous Circus: Event Translation Ch3-4

For the sake of Kazu, I really wanted to read the event story for Luminous Circus, but I found out that there’s only 2 chapters available in the wiki. Sooooooo, what else to do but translate the story myself? I’m not sure that I will translate the entire play especially if it’s long, but I’m determined to translate the event story at least. Can I make it before Kazu’s birthday? Idk but I’ll try~ (Oh yeah, if this story has actually been translated, can someone tell me? Thank you~)

Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

You can take a look at the first two chapters here in the wiki, and my translation will be below the cut, enjoy~

https://yaycupcake.com/a3/index.php?title=The_Luminous_Circus

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber Entertainment

Homare’s Grandfather:

You can do anything you want with this room.

You said you need a study right?

Homare’s Grandmother:

If it’s Haiku I can make it while I’m walking.

I don’t need such a big study for that.

For example, one that I made recently…

Homare’s Grandfather:

Fu, I thought it would make you happy, you don’t really like gathering for party or tea right?

I just thought that you need a place to be by yourself.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…It’s not my fault that I can’t make anything.

Let me use the place then.

Homare’s Grandfather:

What should we put here?

How about a Mahogany desk by the window.

We can get shelf from the store, and you can line up your favourite books there.

You can also place your favourite rose over there.

Homare’s Grandmother:

No. With that painting…

I’m good with a table set to have tea with you.

Homare’s Grandfather:

I see.

Then, let’s do as you wish.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Homare:

Grandmother, do you want some tea.

Homare’ Grandmother:

With pleasure.

Homare:

I always thought about it, but this place is very bleak and monotonous.

How about adding a bit more interior?

Homare’s Grandmother:

…. Fu.

Homare:

Grandmother?

Homare’s Grandmother:

We’re planning to have reinforcement work here soon.

It’s an old building, so I’ve been worried that it’s going to be blown away when typhoon came.

It seems that a big typhoon is approaching too…

I’ll leave the interior to you.

You can do anything you want.

Homare:

--Yes! I’ll make sure it has the calm and meaningful atmosphere that grandmother likes.

Homare’s Grandmother:

There’s only one thing… I want this painting to be put here as it is now.

Homare:

Ah, it’s always displayed over here.

Homare’s Grandmother:

It’s my treasure.

Homare:

Grandmother’s…

Homare’s Grandmother:

You looked surprised.

Homare:

Ah, nothing—

Who’s the name of the painter?

Homare’s Grandmother:

He’s not that famous.

That’s why, I can’t recall anything about him.

Homare:

Then, --

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

By the way, is that pocket watch still moving?

Homare:

Eh, yeah, of course.

I’ve gotten it taken care of in an excellent repair shop.

Tasuku:

Is Arisugawa inside?

Hisoka:

…He’s staying over at his family’s home today.

Tasuku:

Then, please pass this back to Arisugawa.

Hisoka:

…The pocket watch, is it fixed?

Tasuku:

For now, but the parts are getting worn out, I think it will break soon.

The parts are not available anymore, it’s really reaching the end of its lifespan.

Handle it carefully.

If it’s subjected to shock, you’ll shorten its lifespan even more.

Hisoka:

…Understood.

Tasuku:

About Arisugawa’s grandmother’s condition…

Hisoka:

Tasuku:

Nothing—There’s a message inside of that pocket watch right.

It said, “To the mechanical you, with love. Sakae.”

When I look at that earlier, I’m somehow reminded of Arisugawa’s grandfather and grandmother. I’m just a bit curious.

Hisoka:

…Why not try and LIME Alice.

Tasuku:

Me, out of the blue? That would be weird isn’t it.

Hisoka:

Whoever it is, anyone would be happy if someone else expresses concern for their family.

Tasuku:

…I see. I guess so.

Hisoka:

…Zzzzzzz

Tasuku:

Don’t sleep while you’re still holding the pocket watch!

You’ll drop it!

Sigh… And I thought you said something decent for once.

Director:

That was so interesting!

As Tenma-kun said, the circus scene was so powerful!

Kazunari:

The overall color was so psychedelic it’s interesting~!

Tsumugi:

The unique world view was pretty interesting too.

Sakuya:

I’ve never seen a circus before and I can’t imagine it by just reading the book, but…

After watching the movie, I thought it’s really great!

It’s like I’m sucked into the world of dream and imagination.

When I saw the audiences, who seemed to be having so much fun inside the dream world, I can’t help to think that circus is such a great thing!

Kazunari:

You know, Sumi had a part time job in a circus before.

Sakuya:

Eh!? Really!?

Tsumugi:

That part time job really fits Misumi-kun.

Sakuya:

That’s so nice~ I also want to try it.

But I don’t have athletic capabilities and reflexes like Misumi-san so it’s probably impossible for me.

Tsumugi:

Even if you’re not the performer, there might be jobs available behind the scene isn’t it.

Kazunari:

A clown for example, it doesn’t seem that they would ask for high athletic capabilities for that.

Let’s go ask Sumi about it!

Sakuya:

Right. Let’s go!

Director:

Eh, there’s a car parked in front of the dorm.

Kazunari:

Woah, isn’t that Rolls Royce!

Sakuya:

Eh! That is!?

It’s my first time seeing it.

Tsumugi:

It’s such a luxurious car.

Homare:

…

Director:

Homare-san!?

Homare:

Oh, is everyone going out.

Tsumugi:

We just came back from a movie.

Homare:

I see.

Oh yeah, Kazunari-kun.

I have something to consult to you about.

Kazunari:

Consult?

Homare:

Yeah. Actually, there’s a room that’s going to be refurbished in my family home and there’s a painting I want to decorate the room with.

For my grandmother’s sake, I want to decorate the room to her liking, so I wonder if you can draw just one piece for me.

Kazunari:

Me!?

Rather than me, isn’t is better to ask a more famous painter or something?

Homare:

My grandmother is not someone who cares about that kind of things.

In addition, even though you have no name right now, I’m certain that you are the one person I can count on to be a well-known painter one day.

Kazunari:

Aririn…

Homare:

So, let’s do a collaboration, that painting by you, who have such a promising future, and my poem!

Kazunari:

Collab!?

That sounds great! I’m looking forward to it!

Director:

A collab between Homare-san’s poem and traditional Japanese painting, what kind of wind is brewing over here I wonder…?

Tsumugi:

Umm… I can’t really imagine it, but if it’s Homare-san’s grandmother, maybe she’ll be happy about it.

Kazunari:

I kinda want to see the image of the room that you’re going to decorate, so is it okay for me to visit Aririn’s family home?

Homare:

Of course!

Tenma:

The wind is pretty strong tonight.

Tsumugi:

Looking at the path of the typhoon, it’s going to be a direct hit.

Banri:

It seems that we won’t be able to go out tomorrow.

Director:

Everyone, let’s begin the leader’s meeting.

Today, I was thinking that we should discuss our third Mixed Play performance.

Tsuzuru:

Ah, can I say something.

Director:

Yeah.

Tsuzuru:

I’ve drafted out a few plots that we can use this time, we can see if there’s anything we can use from these.

Tenma:

…There’re really a lot.

Tsumugi:

This story about animal’s banquet, sounds pretty novel.

Director:

It’s a play where everyone needs to dress up as kigurumi for the performance.

Tsumugi:

But it’s something that requires a different technique compared to the usual performance, it might be quite rewarding at the end.

Banri:

Wait, do you even need the technique to perform in a kigurumi!?

Sakuya:

This story of Tengu too, seems to have different atmosphere than usual, sounds interesting!

Tsumugi:

You’re right, we don’t have things like that before.

Tenma:

This, are we all going to wear mask?

Banri:

I would hate trying to sell this idea to Azami.

Tsumugi:

Isn’t it okay if we go for mask-like make up.

Tenma:

Why this problem?

Tsuzuru:

At this point, I haven’t thought whether all of these ideas can be realized, there’re quite a lot of problems huh~

Director:

Tsuzuru-kun, do you have anything you want to write among these ideas?

Tsuzuru:

Hmm, the one that I have most ideas for the plot will be this circus one over here.

Director:

(It’s a fairytale like story about a struggling circus group with a tinge of fantasy on the stage…)

Sakuya:

Woah, it’s a wonderful story!

I just watched a circus themed movie earlier, and I thought there’re really a lot of dreams presented in the circus--

Tsuzuru:

If that’s the case, do you want to do it, Sakuya?

Sakuya:

Is it alright!?

Tenma:

If you’re thinking about the characters, Sakuya might become the clown or the trapeze artist.

Director:

The lead, the circus troupe leader, George, I wonder who will be a good fit for him?

Tsuzuru:

Ah, actually, I have someone in mind—

*lights out*

Tenma:

Wh, wha wha wha wha wha wha what!?

Tsumugi:

A blackout?

Banri:

I’ll use the smartphone light for now.

Sakuya:

*accidentally bump into Tenma*

Ouch!

Tenma:

Wh, who who who who who’s there!

Sakuya:

So, sorry, it seems I accidentally bumped into you--

Banri:

Don’t move. I’ll turn on the lights now.

Ouch!

Tenma:

Wha, what is it this time!

Banri:

That’s, just my leg.

Tsumugi:

Tenma-kun, calm down.

*lights on*

Director:

Ah, the light’s back.

Tenma:

Fuh, don’t surprised me like that.

Tsumugi:

Tenma-kun, why are you against the wall?

Tenma:

I, It’s just a mistake!

Director:

I wonder if the other places are fine?

Anyway, let’s just conclude the meeting for now.

Sakuya:

I’ll go and see the breaker!

Tsumugi:

I’ll go with you.

Tenma:

In that case, me too--

Banri:

You better stop right there.

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! mixed play #a3! translation #homare arisugawa #kazunari miyoshi #sakuya sakuma #sakisaka muku

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a-secondhand-sorrow · 4 years

Text

Inevitable

(read on a03)

They found each other in middle school.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how people tend to come into your life at the time they need to. Leave your life, too. They’d both had friends in elementary school, if not many. But once puberty hit and they were all thrown into a new, different building from the one they’d populated for the last six years, those friends disappeared in a puff of smoke, quickly enough they each questioned whether they’d existed in the first place or if they were just a trick of the eye and a well-placed mirror.

Computer labs, in middle school, were better. Or bigger, at least, and the teachers didn’t hover over each person as though the second graders would manage to break the desktop monitors from the early 2000s. And, of course, no one who was anyone every purposefully spent time there.

And so of course Evan and Connor met there, in sixth grade. Not met, exactly, as they’d already known each other from six years of being in the same school and vaguely in each other’s classes, but they spoke for what was probably the first time.

“Are you going to type anything?”

Evan startled, his eyes moving away from where they’d been locked on the computer screen as his mind traveled. To his surprise, Connor had wheeled over from where he had previously been seated across the computer lab and had chosen to stop about a foot from Evan’s own wheely chair. His permanent frown made his brown eyes appear harsher and colder than Evan would have liked to see.

“Sor-uh, sorry? What?”

Connor nodded to the computer screen, where a cursor blinked in and out of existence on a blank word doc. “Your document. You’ve just been fucking staring at it for like, fifteen minutes.”

Evan, still an elementary schooler at heart, internally jumped at the curse word but tried to keep it out of his face. “Yeah? I, uh. I’m not following.”

Connor’s stare was obscenely judgemental. “So are you going to write anything?”

“I was going to!” Evan said, a sudden wave of defensiveness surprising him a little. “I just? I’m not really sure what to write.”

His new companion sighed. “All right. What do you want to read?”

“...What?”

“What do you want to read?” When Evan made no sign that he understood, Connor sighed again, kicking one foot across the floor. He accidentally sent himself flying back a little in the process, but he slid back forward using his other foot pretty quickly. “I watch this YouTube channel, and they have like, art tips or some shit, right? And they always say that if you don’t know what to draw then you should draw what you want to look at. It’s the same with writing, I bet. So,” and with this, Connor propelled himself forward so his right elbow rested on the table right next to Evan’s left, “what do you want to read?”

Evan thought for a moment. He wanted to read a lot, quite truthfully, but he didn’t know how much he could trust Connor with. Accepting his status as an outcast, he decided to tell him the truth. It couldn’t do too much damage.

“I want to read encouragement.” For once, his voice didn’t waver at all.

“Encouragement?”

Well, too late to go back.

“Yeah. ’Cause, you know, this whole having no friends and spending all of my free time in the computer lab thing sucks, but I need to tell myself it won’t last forever because if I don’t I’ll go insane.”

He didn’t mean any of it as a joke, and it was more of a nervous ramble than anything else, but Connor laughed and Evan found that he rather liked the sound.

“Alright, then. Encouragement it is,” Connor decided. “Start it off. A note for yourself.”

He stole the keyboard and keyed in a ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ Evan was surprised that Connor knew his last name, but Connor shoved the keyboard back before he could question it.

“Uh, okay,” Evan said, and he spoke as he typed. “Today wasn’t an amazing day, and it hasn’t been an amazing year.”

“Wow, encouraging,” Connor muttered under his breath, forcing his hands onto the keyboard over Evan’s. “But you won’t be stuck in this shithole forever, so at least that’s going for you.”

“Connor!” Evan practically squeaked. “The school reads these things! You can’t swear!”

Connor just rolled his eyes and passed the keyboard back to Evan.

The two continued on, passing the keyboard back and forth between them for each sentence. It wasn’t really encouraging by any standard, as they’re mostly just complaining about how bad their days have been, but in the end, Evan laughed and Connor smirked while they headed to the printer, one letter with a nested haiku hidden inside later. And as Connor presented the paper to Evan with a mock-bow, he spoke again.

“You know, you’re wrong about one thing.”

Evan’s heart almost stopped. “What?”

“You do have a friend,” Connor said. “Me.” A look stole across his face, his cheeks dropping. “If..if that’s okay.”

Evan nodded once, and Connor gave him a half smile-not the smirk of before, but a smile that seemed genuine, a peek of sunshine in a cloudy expression.

Connor and Evan came into each other’s lives at exactly the right time when they each needed it most. Maybe it was inevitable that they would have found each other, or maybe they were just very, very lucky. Evan certainly thought that he was lucky to have Connor with him throughout the trench of middle and high school.

And so time marched on, and nothing was certain or easy but it was still easier than it had been. Being with Connor was easy in a way that it wasn’t with any of his previous friends. He didn’t feel like he had to apologize for existing around Connor, much as he wanted to sometimes. Because it didn’t feel unnatural and uncomfortable to be around him as it often did with anyone else; being around him felt as easy as breathing, and even when his lungs failed him and closed up in anxiety, Connor was there.

They still wrote notes to each other. They were, as Connor said, “fucking nerds,” and so they kept up the tradition, sometimes to each other and sometimes to themselves. They seemed to know which letters were okay to read and which were for the other’s eyes only; Evan’s frequent encouragements to himself were sometimes read by Connor and sometimes left alone, something he endlessly appreciated. And together, they rolled their eyes at Cynthia’s or Larry’s or Heidi’s skeptical looks when they gently prodded the two about their romantic interests or all the time they’d been spending in each other’s rooms, attempts that were surely meant to be subtle but were anything but.

Evan found himself watching Connor in those times. He’d learned to read Connor quickly, looking for each shift in expression with a practiced eye. But his expression then was almost unreadable. His best guess was that Connor didn’t really care. He didn’t, either. He could handle the questions and skeptical looks, since all his time with Connor was truly time he cherished for the comfort he felt in their moments together, even when they didn’t speak. He was just happy to have a friend, and he thought - knew - that Connor felt the same way.

(he ignored the growing feeling in the pit of his stomach, a great mass of tangled vines and leaves that seemed to latch itself to his skin. he told himself it was just nerves, that creeping feeling around his heart. he believed it, too. because he and Connor were meant to be best friends and best friends only.)

They spent nearly all of their time together at school and at home, and inevitably they accompanied each other on their respective family trips. Heidi had much less time off work than either of the Murphy parents did, so Evan found himself many a summer Friday packed in the car with the whole Murphy quadruple on the way to the beach an hour or so away from their town. Too afraid of getting carsick to use his phone or read on the ride, he mostly passed the time chatting with Connor and Zoe. Evan and Connor often had difficulty sustaining conversations with each other in front of other people, but Zoe didn’t seem to have this problem; she always managed to keep Evan chatting about different music genres or astronomy facts or canceled TV shows from the early 2000s. Connor usually didn’t seem to mind it, but it must have been weighing on his mind somewhat, enough that he couldn’t push it away with his normal excitement over getting to drag Evan into the ocean for half a day.

“Do you like my sister?” Connor said softly one Friday, facing directly out to sea. He dug his feet into the soft sand as a tiny wave met his ankles. Evan almost missed it, but he realized what Connor was truly asking a moment later.

“What? No, I, no, that’s ridiculous, I, uh, I mean-” he shook his head rapidly. Connor didn’t appear sated. “Zoe...Zoe is great. But I’m not, I don’t think that I…she’s more like a sister to me than anything else.”

Connor didn’t seem to know what to say. He further dug his toes into the sand.

“Why?” He finally said. “Zoe is great. She’s...probably perfect for you in every fucking way.”

Evan furrowed his brow. “Why are you asking me? Did she…”

“No,” Connor rushed to clarify. “No, I don’t think she does. She didn’t ask me anything, anyway. I just…” Evan let Connor scrounge for words. “I’m wondering why you don’t feel that way when there’s someone right in front of you who’s practically the fairy tale happy ending you probably dream about.”

It wasn’t the most eloquent phrasing ever, but Evan understood what Connor was getting at. He gazed at the back of Connor’s head a few feet in front of him, and instinctively, he found himself smiling at the reality of the boy in front of him. He finally pushed forward through the wet sand and reached Connor’s side, standing shoulder to shoulder.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, running one hand over his short, coarse hair. He chanced a shift of his gaze towards Connor. The light caught on his high cheekbones, giving him an almost ethereal look. “I can’t, I guess I just can’t control things like that. Maybe if I could turn it off and on, I would feel like that...like Zoe was perfect for me. Like she and I were destined to be together.”

He saw Connor swallow roughly.

“But I can’t. And Zoe is fantastic, but I don’t like her like that. I don’t think she and I are destined to be anything more than friends. People come into our lives for a reason, you know? And I don’t think that’s hers for me.”

And they were quiet for a moment.

“Little too feminine for your type, I guess,” Connor finally muttered, eyes scanning out over the horizon where the sea met the sky. Evan felt a laugh bubbling up in his throat, and he backhanded Connor’s shoulder without looking at him directly.

“Hey!”

“What?” Connor said, finally meeting Evan’s eyes. The sudden, sharp focus in them made Evan’s breath catch in his throat. “It’s the truth.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, trying to keep his voice even. “Maybe it is.”

That was the closest they’d ever come to confessing anything; even in the bright, unforgiving sun, those four words felt much larger than they really were, and he almost regretted them. They somehow seemed more dangerous in the light of day than they did when whispered under covers in the comforting darkness of nighttime. But he didn’t regret them (couldn’t, really), because the smile that Connor smiled in response was brighter than the sun reflecting off of the sandy waves. Waves that crashed into their ankles moments later, cold and harsh and salty, and it was then that Connor laughed, the sound high and clear and fitting softly into Evan’s ears.

And into high school they marched, equally unsure of what they would face. Mostly the same as middle school, but they had each other from the beginning. They didn’t have every class together, but they had enough that they could get through the day. Connor learned that sketching helped to calm him after a day of school and Evan relearned that nature helped him. Connor joined him most days in Evan’s backyard, despite his pollen allergies.

Evan, in true Evan style, had grabbed assorted flowers as the two walked home from school and had begun to twist them into a vague crown shape. He didn’t really know how to, but it was coming out all right. He sat with Connor in a tree in his backyard, occasionally glancing up to Connor to see his progress on another sketch. He couldn’t see what the sketch was, only a few vague shapes and lines, but he didn’t know much about drawing anyway. He was mostly just glad to have Connor with him. Smiling softly, he plucked up a small blue flower and tucked it behind his ear.

“Is that a flower in your hair?” Connor said. He must have looked up from his sketchbook just in time to see it.

“Yes,” Evan said simply. “Would you like one?”

Connor snorted.

“What?” Evan demanded. “It matches your aesthetic.”

“Oh, yeah. Flowers are so punk rock, Evan.”

“Punk rock,” Evan mocked just under his breath. He was rewarded with a pencil hitting him in the shoulder a moment later, followed by a grunt of annoyance from Connor as it immediately fell to the ground.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“That’s what you get for your violence, Con. Karma.”

“Where’s your karmic retribution for forcing me outside at the height of allergy season?”

Evan shrugged. “I’m too nice for it. My karma balances out.”

“That figures.” There was a pause, and Evan thought he’d be able to finish his flower crown in peace, but Connor’s voice called “hey, catch!” before he could.

Immediately Evan’s pulse skyrocketed, heart in his throat. A book dropped into his lap, nearly making him drop his flower crown. He almost fell from the tree in an attempt to grab the book before it could slide from his lap, but in the end, both he and the book made it just fine, only a few years off of Evan’s life total. Evan ran his thumb over the edge of the sketchbook, where a yellow sticky note protruded slightly.

“Jesus Christ,” he finally said, when he regained air in his lungs. “You know I can’t catch. Why would you do that?”

Connor shrugged. “To see you jump.”

Evan glared as best he could against the sun.

“Well,” Connor said. “Open it.”

Evan thumbed it open to the sticky note indicated page. He was immediately accosted with his own face staring back at him, followed by an angle he could assume was what Connor could see of him while they both sat seated in the tree. He was out of breath again, but this time he just didn’t know what to say. He studied his own face; it had the same big, open eyes, skin shaded and dark and smooth against his cheeks and forehead, lips parted just slightly and turned up in the barest of smiles. And in the second he just looked relaxed more than anything, completely at peace in his environment. That idea, him calm and settled, nearly brought tears to his eyes. Instead, he looked out towards his house and smiled. He inhaled once, and once again, trying to work through the heavy feeling over his heart and chest.

“Oh my God, Connor. These are...really good.”

“Well, I had a great subject to study.”

Evan can feel his cheeks darken at that, but luckily Connor doesn’t have a great vantage point to see it. He shifted on the branch in order to get a better look at Connor. He, too, appeared relaxed. Evan held the sketchbook in one hand and traded the completed flower crown into that hand as well, passing both up to Connor. “C’mon. Show us that Fae blood.”

Connor’s mouth twisted into something half smile, half grimace. “No, no thanks. No need to pay me for my work. Just leave it.”

“C’mon, Connor,” Evan whined. “Please?”

They held eyes for a moment, and Connor nodded. Grinning triumphantly, Evan watched as Connor lowered the flowers onto his head. The sun behind Connor’s head seemed to dip just behind it, giving all of Connor’s long hair the impression of catching fire with all of the light it reflected. Connor looked almost otherworldly, and Evan caught himself marveling at the fact that Connor even existed, and that he had the good fortune of knowing him. Of being allowed to force him to wear a flower crown, he thought with a smile. He felt that same pressure return to his chest, and he found himself thinking that he’d quite like to be on that branch with Connor, soaking up the light, soaking up Connor’s body heat, pressing closer to him.

He didn’t like the idea of having that feeling, much as the feeling itself made him feel a type of lightheaded happiness that made the tips of his fingers feel tingly. No, he didn’t like having the feeling, because he knew that Connor didn’t have it. And if Connor knew that was how Evan felt...

The first day of senior year was when Evan felt like he could burst with the feeling. Even just looking at Connor hurt, as though despite his black jeans and gray sweatshirt he was filled with all the light of the sun. He found himself in the computer lab, pouring it all out into a letter to himself.

“Well this is fucking weird, isn’t it?”

Evan’s heart jumped up into his throat. He spun in his wheely chair, his eyes automatically connecting with Connor’s. Of course Connor had known where to find him. He stood quickly, crossing Connor’s path and making a beeline for the printer.

“What is?” He said finally.

“Being in a computer lab. I mean, it’s not 2005 anymore. I forgot this place fucking existed.”

Evan shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of like it. I mean-“ and he ignored the wave of nostalgia that crashed over him, the memory of Connor’s elbow next to his own at eleven years old so clear and strong that he could feel it, “remember when we used to hang out in the middle school lab?”

“Do I ever,” Connor muttered. He crossed the room in a few long strides, turning so his back leaned against the table and his shoulder was nearly against Evan’s own. Evan didn’t look at Connor, instead choosing to wait for the impossibly slow printer to print his letter to himself. “Hey,” Connor said, his voice impossibly soft. His hand reached over and settled at the corner of Evan’s jaw, which tensed out of habit. Connor didn’t pull away. He gently guided Evan’s face to look at his own. “Are you okay?”

A nervous flurry erupted low in his gut at that question. “What, I, uh, I mean-why do, do you ask?”

As Evan reached for the paper in the tray, Connor shook his head a little bit. “You’re avoiding me. You have been all day.” He swallowed roughly. “You won’t look me in the eye.”

Evan didn’t deny it.

“Did I - God.” Connor cut himself off, closing his eyes for a moment. He reopened them, immediately focusing back into Evan. “Please just look at me, Evan.”

And Evan did. He looked into the eyes that had been beside him for almost seven years, the deep brown eyes he’d once viewed as harsh and cold but now saw untold warm, wild pools of color inside of.

“Are you okay?” Connor said, his lips moving in a new way, as though each word was difficult for him to say.

Evan opened his mouth, closed it again. He tried to speak again. “Yes.”

Connor’s eyes flickered down for the briefest moment. “And if I read that letter, I’d be able to see-”

“You won’t read it,” Evan said, his voice sharper than intended in his desperation. “You won’t take it.”

A muscle worked in Connor’s jaw. “No. No, I won’t.”

Evan nodded once, slowly.

Connor’s eyes still searched his, but he couldn’t break eye contact, not anymore. Truthfully he was okay, but he wasn’t when Connor was that close to him, when his thoughts scattered in a thousand different forbidden routes. He couldn’t think with Connor’s touch, couldn’t think anything but a thousand things he wasn’t supposed to think about his best friend. He didn’t want to hurt Connor anymore. He couldn’t decide what to do, and the impulsive part of his brain, the side that wasn’t actually impulsive but was rather in tune with some plan Evan must have secretly had for years, was rapidly taking over.

Connor’s eyes flickered down to Evan’s lips, hesitant and pained but full of so much longing that Evan felt his own heart ache.

And then Evan kissed him.

It felt inevitable, in some roundabout way. Like some cosmic path led them to that point, with Connor’s lips pressed to his and his hand splayed along his jawline and their hips digging sharply into each other’s. Like no matter how often they claimed straight-laced, testosterone-prone innocence, they’d end up right there. Maybe they’d professed friendship and platonic feelings to make themselves feel less guilty, and maybe they’d inevitably end up as more like they were destined to be. Maybe they were bound to be more than they could ever be, entwined in a way that others didn’t think of as natural.

And Connor kissed him back, and it all felt inevitable, like finally feeling a wave crash around his ankles when he turned his back to the ocean and could only hear the approaching water rather than see it. It felt inevitable, but Evan didn’t particularly care whether it should happen or not. For once, the list of things he cared about began and ended with one thing, and he had that right at his fingertips. The pressure of Connor’s body on his, all sharp angles contrasted to the soft way his lips pressed to Evan’s, drove away any other thought or desire or care he could have. He pulled Connor closer to him and felt his cheeks heat at the noise, almost feral, that Connor made when Evan parted his lips to allow Connor’s exploring.

And he kissed him and he kissed him back, and that was more than enough, more than he could have ever imagined.

They broke apart later, and as Evan’s eyes drifted open and he saw the light catch on Connor’s eyelashes and begin to reach his eyes, he unfurled the paper from his grasp and grabbed Connor’s hand with his free hand. He pushed the letter into Connor’s fist and closed his fingers around it. Connor didn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes away from Evan’s, but after a minute he lifted the letter up. Evan studied his face as Connor’s eyes zipped across the page at superhuman speed, as they always did. He recognized the expression on his face, finally, for the first time in a while. The corners of Connor’s eyes had crinkled in amusement, but he could see the happiness flicker a little towards the middle of the page. Evan mimicked Connor’s earlier nervous reaction, one hand twisting his shirt and his chin dropping closer to his chest. He felt Connor’s soft hand at his jaw again, tilting his head back up so he could look in Evan’s eyes.

“I would never think that,” Connor said, the slight flicker of anger making the different browns of his eyes stand out from each other in stark contrast. “Evan. I would never think that. I would never think those things. You’re—” his voice cut off, seemingly of its own accord. He continued, and his voice was a little stronger. “You’re the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me. Jesus, Evan. You’re the only good thing. I could never think that about you.”

Evan didn’t miss the way Connor’s voice wavered towards the end. As Connor leaned in and gently pressed his lips to the corner of Evan’s mouth, he felt his arms move of their own accord and wrap themselves around Connor’s shoulders. Connor hugged him back and Evan buried his head into the base of Connor’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Connor laughed. “For what?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said, still whispering. “I don’t know. I thought that you, when you knew how I- I’m just sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Evan felt a warm, gentle pressure atop his head for just a second. He realized it was a kiss a moment later. “Don’t ever be.”

Maybe it was all inevitable.

#deh #dear evan hansen #tree bros #treebros #convan #welcome to the one tree bros fic I will ever write #evan hansen #connor murphy #deh fanfiction #deh fanfic #mine

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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What may I call you? Stephanie or Steph.

Where are you right now, exactly? In my room on my bed.

Over or under 18? I’m well over 18.

Have you been watching the Stanley Cup play-offs? (GO BRUINS!) No.

Ever believed your house was/is haunted? If yes, why; what happens? Nah.

The building you live inside; how long ago was it built? I think early 80s.

Ever travel internationally? I’ve been to Mexico once.

If you could go anywhere RIGHT NOW, where would it be? And why? I don’t want to go anywhere RIGHT NOW.

Do you fancy someone currently? Tell me about them! No.

Ever have a big ol' crush on someone you've never met in person? If so, did you ever tell them you did? Well, on celebrities.

What makes you feel luxurious? I don’t feel luxurious.

Do you enjoy drinking scotch as much as I do? I don’t enjoy drinking scotch at all. Or any alcohol.

What have you done that makes you proud of yourself? Meh.

What makes you envy someone? Someone who seems to have their life together. I know everyone has their struggles and hardships, but there’s people who manage to push through and handle things better. They’re able to function still and are doing something with their life. I envy people who despite their hardships have a strong, positive, can-do attitude. I envy people who are passionate about things and do what they love. I envy talented, creative, and intelligent people.

For you, is jealousy something that makes you more sad or angry-feeling? Depends.

Do you get the munchies? Natural munchies sometimes.

Every been to Germany? If so, what part? Nope.

Do you buy newspapers just for the puzzles? No, I don’t buy the newspaper for any reason.

Describe any tattoos or piercings you may have...? I just have my earlobes pierced.

When's the last time you smacked someone's butt? (Or been smacked :P) I don’t do that.

Do you enjoy making art? If so, what's your style like? I don’t make art, but I like to color.

Were you a shy child? Very. Now I’m a shy adult.

Ever wanna run away with the circus? Uh, no.

What is the closest object to your feet right now? My feet are near the edge of the bed and my bedside table is nearby.

Reach behind you- do you feel anything? What is it? My pillow.

Is English your second language? No.

Have you ever designed and constructed your own clothing? No.

What's the very last digit in your phone number? Nah.

Is your house an odd or even number? Odd.

Do you have a favorite superhero? Who? Iron Man, Spiderman, Star Lord, Ant-Man.

What power would you like to receive, if given the option? >>I don’t know. The power of brain that work good. <<< Ha, yeah that would be nice.

Ever punch someone in the nose? No. Or at all.

...will you write me a haiku? Nope.

What was the last thing that really delighted you? Hmm.

Do you wear skin-colored clothes? I have a pair of pantyhose that are like the color of my skin.

Ever eat German cuisine? If so, what'd ya have? No.

Do you have conversations with any animals? I always talk to my doggo.

Do you have a little sibling? If so, are you protective of her/him? Yes.

Recommend me a good book? I don’t know what you like.

Can you sleep on your back? (I can't, I feel too vulnerable!) I can, but I prefer to sleep more on my side.

What's the last special thing you did for someone? (Buy, cook, etc.) Hmm.

Did you cook something today? If so, what was it? Ramen.

Ever baked ALL day? No.

Can you recognize the smell of death? Gahhhh, I’ve smelt dead rodents.

Ever known a mortician or a coroner?? (Now you do!) No.

What makes you feel good about yourself? Nothing?

Could you ever be some type of counselor for kids/teens? No. Funny how that’s actually what I wanted to do for a long time when I was younger.

Do you enjoy getting dressed up for no real reason? No.

What are you afraid of? A lot of things.

Ever been to a maximum security prison? You, or just visiting? No.

Do you think mint toothpaste is too minty? I use a light minty one for sensitive teeth.

How is a raven like a writing desk? I still haven’t figured that one out.

Are you currently eating or drinking something? If so, what? I’m finishing up my Starbucks energy drink.

Do you own striped socks? What colors are your favorite ones? No.

Black Metal ist Krieg. Agree or Disagree? >> I had to Google that and apparently that’s a name of an album of a metal band, but I’m guessing you’re asking if I think black metal “ist krieg”, which for me no it’s not my thing.

Are there any numbers that have significance to you? The number 8.

Do you know how to read palms or tarot or anything else like that? I don’t believe in those things.

Do you own any bones or other preserved organic ..things? Unfortunately not. Accepting all bone donations. <<< That made me chuckle for some reason lol. I’m lacking those things as well. Well, I do own the bones in my body...

What do you think about internet piracy? I can’t say I’ve never partaken... I haven’t in several years, though.

Do you know anything about Nordic runes? No.

How do you feel about children? They can be cute and they can be annoying, ha.

Whatcha looking forward to right now? Summer being OVER. This triple digit heat wave needs to goooo. We’ve had power outages the past couple times and it will probably happen all this week, too. D:

How do you feel about clowns? I like Pennywise.

Are any of your friends clown by profession? I’m a clown. I majored in clownery.

Do you put grated cheese on popcorn? I’ve never tried that.

Do you thing anyone ever actually gets in trouble for having milkcrates? What? Why would they get in trouble for that?

Do you tip street performers? (YOU SHOULD.) Not usually. I didn’t ask them to be there, I have no obligation to them. I’ll do it if I feel moved to (and if I happen to have cash, which is the other important variable here). <<< “I didn’t ask them to be there” hahah I love your answers.

What are your virtues/morals? Ya know, stuff like honesty, being loyal, taking responsibility for your actions, being tolerant of differences, treat others how you wish to be treated, forgiveness, no cheating, respect, don’t commit murder, don’t steal.... stuff like that.

What do you smoke, if anything? I don’t.

Does being an addict make someone a bad person, in your opinion? No.

Have you ever experienced any type of detox? No.

Ever been institutionalized? ...was it because of just one pepsi? No. And I don’t get the Pepsi thing?

Tie up, or be tied up? Neither.

Ever shoot a gun that wasn't a handgun? Rifle, shotgun, etc? No.

Is your mother a really cool lady? Yes, she’s awesome. Everyone loves her.

Ever suddenly find a friend very attractive but had to keep it to yourself? I’ve liked a few of my guy friends, but I told them.

What time is it right now? 7:35AM.

Last time it's rained? I think back in April. Feels like forever ago.

Ever been through a deadly natural disaster? No.

What do you do when you lose power? Ugh, we’ve had that happen the past 2 days during the hottest time of day. It’s been high triple digits and inside my house has been 90 degrees, 92 when the power goes out. D: It’s horrible. I go and get my little battery fan and a wet washcloth and mess around on my phone and/or talk to my family until it comes back on. And complain about how hot it is.

Do you have a boot fetish too? No.

Have you ever done home-repair stuff? No.

Reason you last used a knife? I eat my spaghetti with a fork and knife.

Ever tattoo or pierce yourself? What, and how did it turn out? Nooo. I’d be terrified to get either one done, I certainly couldn’t do it to myself.

Have you ever assisted in a birth? No.

Have you ever had a bad trip? I’ve had a bad weed trip before and an actual trip.

Do you ever yell at your TV/computer/video games? Ha, yeah. Maybe not yell, but definitely talk back to it or comment out of frustration.

How long do you take in the shower? 30-40ish minutes.

If you could ask someone ONE thing & get 100% honesty, what would you ask? I don’t know.

What's the best thing you've ever found in a thrift/second hand shop? I don’t go thrift shopping.

What's one skilled craft you like to learn? Uhhh.

How do you feel about magicians? It can be pretty cool to watch. Some are really clever.

What do you smell like right now? I smell my laundry detergent on my clothes.

Tell me about the last person that made you laugh. He’s intelligent, funny, and cool.

Who was the last person to really make you feel special? It was nice receiving birthday comments from family and various people on social media and the birthday gifts from my family.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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floraone · 4 years

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2019 Fanfic Year in Review

So I’m bringing @irritablevowel ’s fanfic review back and maybe you guys want to join me!

1. List of fics completed this year:

9! (if I don’t count the Lemon Tree and Little Moment Short stories, nor the little tumblr-only one shots, which I won’t for this)

Nocturne For A Queen Priorities Idiots Mercy Lucid The Ghosts of Lake Yokai I Like You VR Much Would You Like To Date My Friend, Chiba Mamoru? 50 Kisses

2. Number of words written:

261.006 words this year. In 87 chapters and 12 stories.

That’s more than last year - which I’m happy about, since a) I was extremely busy in the whole first half of this year and b) I’ll be even busier in the following 3 years. So, ya know, I’m happy I got so much done seeing as I’m sure next year will be like, 20k words total.

3. Your most popular fic this year:

Priorities (Both by favs and by reviews per chapter)

4. Your personal favourite this year:

Probably a tie between Nocturne For A Queen and The Ghosts of Lake Yokai? Though I REALLY loved Idiots, too!

5. Your favourite scene:

That scene in Idiots where Mamoru and Sailor Moon have that conversation where they are both very convinced to be talking about something than the other thinks they’re talking about. Overall, that whole story was very much a joy to write, ngl lol.

6. A fic or scene that challenged you:

50 Kisses was kind of an up-and-down for me, as you guys know! I don’t think I’ve ever gotten as much backlash for a single fic than for that one, (especially because that backlash never came for the actual content, just the format??) and yeah, that was definitely challenging.

7. A line of writing you’re proud of:

Here’s dialogue from 50 Kisses I was proud of:

"Who do you want to get love letters from then, Odango?" He was just keeping the stupid conversation going to rile her up, she knew him. But his voice was warm for once, and she could not deny she liked that tone on him.

But she could. She could deny it vehemently. "Pft," she snorted, and turned her nose up into the air dramatically. "As if I'd tell you."

When she peeked back up at him, the smirk was back. Full on. "Don't tell me it's me," he said with that tone. Ugh.

She bristled. "Oh, you're just so full of yourself."

He chuckled, leaned towards her a little with those obnoxiously, irritatingly upturned lips, and she shrunk back a little, her cheeks heating. "I'm not the worst catch," he twinkled at her in mischief.

She glared. "You wish."

His laugh was deep. It sounded... nice.

"I bet you'd write the worst love letters," she accused, all the petulance in her strong.

He threw her a wink. The light of a street lamp they passed played with the shadows on his face, distractingly. "I'm quite good at haikus actually."

"Oh, suuuure."

That smirk again, and then he stopped, and she stopped too, and he patted his chest dramatically and cleared his throat theatrically and fixed her with a look that made something in her pop.

"You want love letters? Oi, Odango Atama. You're no pest today."

His smile was entirely too smug for a haiku so bad.

"Smooth," she deadpanned, unimpressed.

He just laughed that twinkling laugh again and shrugged. "A poem instead?"

He leaned back in, and this time she didn't lean away but tried to meet his petulant eyes full on. Had… Had Mamoru-baka always been this … attractive?

But then he opened his mouth and that came out - obnoxious and over-acting and ridiculous and how does he come up with this so fast? - and she was back to bristling and rolling her eyes.

"Shrieks boom so loud, who can it be but one? She shakes the ground, she makes all sound, no peace is found when she's around. Odango please, now can I bring you home?"

She tried to deck him. Slapped the back of her hand towards his chest, but the jerk caught it. And laughed.

8. A comment that touched you:

So, I am like the luckiest person on here and I get SO MANY touching comments. At least every weak I clutch at my heart and wriggle in my seat and NEED to show my husband what some of you SAID. So it’s hard to pick. Because I love you guys all and covet my reviews in a way that’s friggin STUPID.

But, I’m picking for once. It stands for a number of comments and things for me though: And it was that time when I was so down about my daily Kisses-troll and answered them here on tumblr (twice!) that you came for my rescue (twice!) and like, cut a bitch for me collectively. The second time that happened some of you even sent me motivating coffees via Kofi, and one came with this message:

That made me laugh SO hard. I have it screenshotted and printed out in my writing corner, next to the print-outs of the fanart some of you made for my stories last year and the year before!

I sat down to write the first chapter for The Unintentional Seduction of Chiba Mamoru that next day, in my fav writing café with macarons and hot chocolate that some of you have friggin paid for!

9. Something that inspired your writing this year:

I got a huge boost of inspiration this year after the summer. A) I’d read a super cute book @irritablevowel had recommended to me and it sparked a lot of stories in my head and B) I’d met @uglygreenjacket, @tinacentury and @irritablevowel in person and it made me feel all warm and at home in this community. Also, ya know, I felt like I gained like 3 big filled up hearts of life back after my thesis was done, and had a bit of energy to write!

10. Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc)

Never missing a day with the kisses (except that one that where I did it deliberately to give a new story of mine some room). Yes, about just over a third had been pre-written by the time I started posting, but there were still a number that I wrote only very close to the day it was needed, several ON the day it was needed. I’m proud I managed to shovel away time for writing enough that I managed!

And I’ll add a new question to this:

11. Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I want to complete The Unintentional Seduction of Chiba Mamoru before my life gets too crazy, and I want to manage to still write at least a LITTLE as my life gets a busy-boost!

All in all, it’s been another happy, happy fanfic year for me, and I’m glad I have this wonderful community of all of YOU to share it with! Thanks for being here with me!

Also, guys, consider yourselves tagged! All of you who want to!!! Please!

But to get it kickstarted, you six definitely: @irritablevowel (you started this, you have to ;) ), @idesofnovember, @uglygreenjacket, @tinacentury, @queenrisa14, and @kasienda

Mwah! 💋

#fanfic year in review #my fic #fanfic asks #i love you guys

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aestheticdriven · 4 years

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get to know the blogger !

can be used for RP and non-RP blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen.

1. first name: Fernanda (hence the nickname Nanda) 2. strange fact about yourself: One time I got away from being mugged at a bus stop because I was literally too dumb to realise the guy was trying to mug me and by the time I did my bus arrived, so I just got in the bus and left the guy there lmao. 3. top 3 physical things you find attractive on a person: Back, smile, eyes 4. a food you could eat forever and not get bored of: Japanese food, more specifically, salmon sashimi 5. a food you hate: Guyaba 6. guilty pleasure: Watching kids’ shows 7. what do you sleep in: I have a collection of cute pyjamas! 8. serious relationships or flings: Serious 9. if you could go back in the past and change one thing about your life, what would it be: I would have gone on the trip to New York with my family. I didn’t want to go because I was in the middle of the semester in college and man what a dumb ass decision that was. 10. are you an affectionate person: I try to be! I love hugging my friends and my family and telling them I love them. 11. a movie you could watch over and over again: Rise of the guardians 12. favourite book: The Bane Chronicles (again, I’m predictable) 13. you have the opportunity to keep any animal as a pet, what would you choose: A wolf 14. top 5 fictional ships (if you’re a rp blog, you can use your own ships as well): MatthewxJames, MagnusxWill, MagnusxAlecxJace, MagnusxSeb and MatthewxAlec in no particular order 15. pie or cake: Pie 16. favourite scent: Cinnamon 17. celebrity crush: Excuse me as I have a moment of horror as I remember I can’t put G.odfrey G.ao anymore, wow, every time I remember it it’s like a punch all over again... For now I’ll say I don’t have any, no one has caught my attention so much since. 18. if you could travel anywhere, where would you go: Call me a weabo but I wanna go to Japan. 19. introvert or extrovert: Introvert. I’m so introverted I’ve been at home for like 2 months and if anyone asked me to go out I’d still be like ‘uuuurghhhh, wanna stay home’ lmao 20. do you scare easily: Yes, and it’s ridiculous because I literally jump every time. 21. iphone or android: Android forever 22. do you play any video games: Do phone app games count? I play the Hogwarts Mystery game and Homescape, and I love puzzle solving mystery games like the ones by Haiku Games. I am also a loser that enjoys dating sim games and lately I’ve been in love with the Ayakashi Romance Reborn and Obey Me! ones. 23. dream job: Translator 24. what would you do with a million dollars: This is an amazing question to me because I live in Brazil and one dollar is practically 6 reais now so I’d get 6 million reais, actually. I’d pay all our debts, buy my family a new place to live and maybe my own place as well, go back to college so I could major in English or Teaching (or both), invest and save some of it so we never run out of money again and spend the rest travelling the world. 25. fictional characters you hate: I will say D.olores U.mbridge because we were watching an interview with her actress on G.raham N.orton today and she’s on my mind hahaha 26. fandom that you were once a part of but aren’t any longer: I.nuyasha, K.uroshitsuji, P.andora Hearts, N.aruto, H.etalia and H.omestuck. I was actually part of very few fandoms because I tend to go real deep into something for a long time and then it takes a looot to get me out of it and into another fandom. I still like all of those things, but as far as rping/writing/producing content and like, actively participating in the fandom, goes I’ve only been in the TSC fandom for the past 4 years.

tagged by: @affcgato

tagging: @bytheanchor @scholomcnce @ofglitter

#The best impression of the worst shadowhunter (ooc)#It might be too thrilling for a Wednesday (meme)

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mysticsparklewings · 4 years

Photo

at the edge of the world monochrome

finds color

in your eyes

____ We are now 1/3 of the way through NaPoWriMo and this was the simplest prompt yet! I don't know how to act! Said simple prompt was to make use of a relatively modern form of poetry that takes inspiration from Haiku: Hay(na)ku, which asks you to create a poem with words grouped as such: 1 for line 1, 2 for line 2, and 3 for line 3. And for those like me who want to understand where the name came from, I jumped down the rabbit hole for you; Apparently, this form of poetry was known for a time as "Pinoy Haiku," but ended up being changed after both of those words carried some negative connotation in regards to the colonization of the Philipines, and was changed to the current name after the Filipino expression "hay naku," which apparently is used a lot like the word, "oh," is in English. On the one hand, I'm thankful for such simple poetic requirements, considering today's prompt could've just as easily been a long and horrendous prompt with rules/requirements a mile long (I'm looking at you, Day 5). But on the other hand, I have to agree with the sentiments of another writer that I stumbled upon while looking for inspiration; with so few words to work with, there isn't really room for more than one image or idea contained in one hay(na)ku, and that can be less satisfying than a form of poetry that can hold at least two or more ideas at a time. Also, it's deceptively simple in its structure; When you only have six words to use, every word--arguable every letter-counts. And yet, it feels even more hollow (at least to me for my writing preferences) to just slap words down and cut the prepositions in the name of squeezing more "words that matter." To that end, though, I realized that the hay(na)ku is really just a different way of writing another form of...poetry? (I guess?)...The six-word story. This is interesting to me because six-word stories can often be very deep and very dark, despite being so short. Additionally, I have once-upon-a-time come up with some six-word stories waaaayyyy back in my 365-Day Mini-Magnet Challenge, so much like yesterday's concrete/calligram prompt, once I started thinking of it that way, today's prompt was technically not unfamiliar territory to me. Of course, all of the above does not mean this poem was a cakewalk to come up with. It still took a bit of thought, and I ultimately decided I needed at least two hay(na)kus to satisfy my own wants. Funnily enough, I found in trying to come up with two poems that had strong imagery both separately and put together, I found at that there are quite a few song lyrics I like that can be broken up quite nicely into this format. But I refrained from temptation and used none of those. With so few words, it kinda felt like cheating to just use song lyrics I didn't write, even if I gave credit where credit was due. Also, I found that as I mentioned, six-word stories can get very dark very quickly, and likewise, I came up with a few of these that weren't technically bad, just...dark. And I didn't really want dark, this time. I wanted something a bit brighter, something slightly more inline with FridgePoetProject's work. So naturally, I went and looked back on some of her mini-magnetic creations hoping an idea would strike me in the process. If you ever have a look at her work, stars and celestial bodies appear quite frequently. And while I do like that, I know I just did a kind-of star themed poem for Day 7, and I'm sure in the next twenty days I'll have at least one or two (possibly more) opportunities to infuse stars into the mini-magnets. The same thing with gardens/flowery images, Day 5 and Day 9 both use that, and I want to space out my themes to keep things fresh-ish. Somewhere along the way, I grabbed on to the idea of rainbows/color and came up with "I / find color / in your arms," Which was good, but I wanted something a little more dramatic and slightly less literal. (Not that that phrase is particularly literal, but the message was still a bit too direct for my taste.) From there though, I got the idea to "find color" in the mandala. I.E. one half could be grayscale, the other in color. The first hay(na)ku poem being for the grayscale, the second for the color. After toying around with the words, I nailed down the second poem as you see it here, and I went back over some of the darker poems I'd already come up with and grabbed "at / the edge / of the world" for the first. For context, the second poem I originally had paired with it, before all the color ideas, was: "here / we are / together yet apart," Which I thought hit entirely too close to home for the state of the world right now. If I came out with it six months ago, it probably would've sounded much lighter, more wistful. But right now that string combined just sounds...accurate and depressing. Not what I wanted today. But I liked my monochrome/edge of the world pairing, so that's what I went with. The came the mandala. I picked out a rainbow of colors in my Gelly Roll Moonlight pens, as I know their ink flows well and the colors are nice and bright (though the fluorescent ones never show up quite as nice on camera or scan as they do in person), and then since I don't have the lovely new grayscale Moonlight pens (but I want them so badly!) I improvised with a black and some gray/silver glitter pens from another brand. Which, you can't really see it here, but I think it's a nice juxtaposition for the rainbow colors to be flat but bright, while the grayscale has a lot of glitter so it's not quite so dull. (Can we make that a new expression? "Even rainbows can be flat and grayscale can have glitter"?) As for actually drawing the mandala, I just used my mandala grid as always, but I started but only drawing the colored side (using a ruler at the very beginning so I knew where my stopping line was, but after I had a few rows done I didn't need it anymore), and the once it was done I went back and filled out the grayscale side. And I was doing really well until I got to the last couple of rows and made a bit of a mistake, but I'm not going to point it out more than that since there's a good chance it will just as easily go unnoticed since I did do what little I could to fix it without ruining the mandala's structure and flow. Beyond that, there's really not much symbolism in this mandala. For the shapes, I was really just trying to go with what felt like good ways to squeeze all the colors in and hopefully wouldn't be too hard to replicate on the other half. Amazing how so much thought goes into two so-short poems, yeah? I have a feeling I'm going to say this a lot before NaPoWriMo is over, but so far I think this might be my favorite...Or maybe I just like the change of pace for both poem and mandala. Now, let's see if this simple prompt trend continues tomorrow or if there's another doozie waiting in the wings... ____ Artwork/Poem © me, MysticSparkleWings Inspired by FridgePoetProject ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

#napowrimo #haynaku

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