#also surprisingly 8tracks

[basedprowl]

I've been steadily archiving Transformers 8tracks playlists I like as I'm listening to them (when 8tracks is working enough to use at all.)

With the way 8tracks is, I figure some people besides myself could be interested in this, so I might make a place like a google drive or something to share these.

I'm making txt files of the playlists, including: the title, song names in intended order (including the album name and year if it says), original url, name of the creator, anything they wrote under "NOTES", and any annotations they've included.

I'm also saving the cover art and a screenshot of the playlist's page as it appears on 8tracks. I don't have a screenshot for every one I've saved yet, since it just occurred to me to do that.

I haven't been getting the actual songs, since that takes a lot more time.

Surprisingly, I was unable to find a way the songs could be ripped from 8tracks. If anyone knows a convenient way to do that, I'd be curious to hear about it. I'm better with computers than most people, but I don't know the first thing about programming, so any solution needing knowledge about that would probably miss me.

#8tracks #transformers #maccadam #fan playlist #archiving #txt

[literallytouko]

it’s not just a phase, MOM

If the stereotype of a man going through his mid-life crisis is getting obsessed with younger women and sports cars, and generally acting younger than he is, does me reviving my hyperfixations with things I was obsessed with when I was 14//15 years old mean that I’m going through my mid-life crisis NOW, and I’m gonna die in my early 60s? With the way we’re treating the environment, at least, that seems possible.  ANYWAY, this is my way of telling you that my schoolgirl crush on Cillian Murphy, and specifically the character Scarecrow, is, to no one’s surprise more than my own, back in effect.

It’s honestly interesting to have this crush revived literally like....half my life later. More time has passed since I first became interested in the actor/character than I was alive at the time the movie came out. It’s funny what’s changed, and what’s stayed the same. It’s also interesting really digging into what I found attractive about the character (besides just the obvious, being the actor) and like....self psycho-analyzing, like, what does that say about me? Hopefully nothing too concerning, haha.  I’ve been digging up fanfiction I wrote (of which surprisingly little still exists -- or perhaps not so surprisingly since most of it was scribbled on ruled paper, passed between myself and a few friends during PE classes). What I can find isn’t....terrible. I’ve lightly edited some of it and wondered if any of it would be worth re-sharing somewhere, although I don’t know with whom. The friends I had in that community, I’m well out of touch with, and who knows if they even care anymore, even if I did reach out. I also have been listening to others’ fan playlists, and re-making and revamping my own (so long 8tracks, hello Spotify, hahaha). Even going back through my own blog, looking at posts I wrote and re-blogged as recently as a decade ago, has brought me an immense sense of nostalgia and joy. Along with the content itself, it reminded me what a community tumblr used to be for me, in a number of different fandoms, the Bat-fandom being one of them. The nature of being in a fandom has changed so much just in my own lifetime, it blows my mind. The internet is truly a place where time marches forward unabated. I’ve also been thinking a lot about my Scarecrow cosplay which was one of my first ever real ones, my Scarecrow mask of which I’m still IMMENSELY PROUD but I....actually don’t even know where it is anymore. I have absolutely no idea. I sort of want to make it again but I have no idea if I could re-make it as well as the original one. I’m rambling.  If you’re reading this and you’re a Scarecrow / Jonathan Crane / Batman Begins fan, HI HELLO, feel free to introduce yourself. Let me know if I should share my playlist, my fanfics, should I start writing more? 

#mirambler #batman begins #scarecrow #jonathan crane

[killedgirl]

i read all your tags, they intrigue me so much. like that one about the meme. where does it come from. now im curious, ive never even seen it before

the one of the girl in bed crying? i run into this issue a lot when sourcing; i use tineye to reverse image search, but it (along with other image search engines) isn't able to collect data from private sites. so if that image has ever been uploaded with a source, it was somewhere private and there's no way for me to access it.

#it can collect data from tumblr twitter and deviantart #thats where i find most of my sources posted #also surprisingly 8tracks #and of course artists' websites; those are the most reliable #but when i cant find a source from reverse image search (which happens often; just click on my 'no source' tag) #the only way for me to get the source is if someone recognizes it and tells me #so if anyone ever wants to do a deep dive thru my no source tag to help me out i would rly appreciate it #ask

[omegalomania]

I think tumblr ate my ask or it just didn't sent but what are your favorite Bastille songs / what are some songs you recommend?

i did NOT get this ask im very sorry anon.

it's genuinely hard for me to narrow down cause bastille is pretty up there in terms of favorite artists. i love all their shit, but a special mention goes out to their second studio album wild world since it's the one that made me a Fan

uh so here's a primer i guess i spent too much time on this lmao.

if you wanna listen to their big hits:

flaws - their first single in the uk. if you ever listened to ship playlists on 8tracks in like 2013-2015 then you've probably heard this song or a variant on it at some point.

pompeii - this is the song that really put them on the map and you definitely know it. it dominated the charts all over the place.

happier - the marshmello song that you've definitely heard before too. i think bastille wrote this for justin bieber or some shit but then decided they liked it too much to give it to him? lmao. anyway if you're not digging the version you hear on the radio all the time i recommend trying the stripped down version

good grief - their big hit off their second album. big in the uk, didn't really make as many waves elsewhere, but it's a really solid song anyway. one of those "upbeat tunes that's actually really fucking sad" ones

things we lost in the fire - another one off their first album. if you live in a wildfire area this might not be one to turn to. or maybe you'll find it cathartic idk i certainly do!!

quarter past midnight - a song about escapism, as was fitting when it was released in 2018 and equally fitting now. running away for a night of fucking around with friends, craving any kind of brief departure from the chaos of the modern world

skulls - this one was not a hit or a single and is technically a bonus track but i'm including it because once again if you ever clicked on a ship playlist on 8tracks in like 2013-2015 you've heard this one. and you know what that was justified this one is also good

if you wanna feel existentially depressed:

their whole discography. i mean i kid but i also don't. that's just kind of how bastille does it. BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS ones that hit me in particular would beeee

two evils - kind of a grim, haunting one introspecting about morality of the self.

oblivion - musing about the afterlife, love, and how time changes all of us.

those nights - contemplating what it is we seek when we plunge into reckless escapism, and the inherent loneliness of it; how even when surrounded by people there's still the pressure of the world outside, continuously coming to pieces

the draw - this one was written about the pull of pursuing a career in music vs. staying home with family and friends. in a broader sense, it can apply to a lot of things. i always felt it resonated with feelings of paranoia and displacement

winter of our youth - discusses childhood, nostalgia, and regret. if it feels like everything's slipping away, is it easier to relive the past, especially if the past is tinted rose?

sleepsong - loneliness, desperation, and the cyclical, abyss-like nature of all it encapsulates

if you want discussion of serious topics:

final hour - a bonus track off their second album that also became a bonus track off their third album? anyway this song talks about climate change and gun control. happy stuff

doom days - this one talks about, uh, everything! doomscrolling, political divides, escalating national tensions, climate change again, etc.

the currents - a song centered on political rhetoric and the power that figureheads have over the masses, the way they can orchestrate hate. basically it's not so subtly aimed at donald trump lmao, dan's literally sung it as much in a few live settings

WHAT YOU GONNA DO??? - social media addiction and the way capitalism and corporate interests have annexed our online experiences, fighting desperately for our attention as they seek to monetize every available aspect of our lives

four walls (the ballad of perry smith) - well this one is about uh. perry smith. who was charged with the death penalty for killing 4 people in the late 50's. but it's less directly about him and more a discussion of the morality of the death penalty and capital punishment

snakes - burgeoning anxieties and the impulse to turn to easy outs, like ignorance or alcoholism, to escape the world's global problems

if you want some pop culture sprinkled on top:

icarus - greek mythology. i like this one because it addresses something that i feel isn't addressed enough in discussions of this myth, which is that icarus is a very young lad. less about the pride of the fall, and more about the inherent tragedy of that.

laura palmer - the whole song is a david lynch shoutout. i've never seen twin peaks myself but the song still slaps.

daniel in the den - christian mythology. discusses the biblical tale of daniel in the lion's den and links that up to themes of betrayal and family.

poet - this one's a double feature, referencing both william shakespeare's sonnet 18 and edmund spencer's sonnet 75. also one of my favorites.

send them off! - this is another one of my favorites of theirs. it's also been described by dan as "othello meets the exorcist" and it very much delivers there

if you want something uplifting:

joy - while bastille (understandably) has a bit of reputation as a band that makes sad music about sad things, they've definitely got some happier songs in their catalogue. pun intended cha ching. this one's one of their more straightforwardly happy tunes

survivin' - this was a song they wrote while they were touring and then felt weird about releasing once the panini hit because it felt a bit on the nose. they ended up releasing it anyway and i am so glad they did cause it's a mood

act of kindness - the "happy" part here is debatable but i'm gonna include it anyway. it’s when someone does something nice for you and that impulse Changes you way down deep you know???

warmth - one of those "the world's going to shit but at least we have each other" kinds of tunes

the anchor - one of those "the world's going to shit but you're the one fucking thing that's still keeping me here" kinds of tunes

give me the future - their latest single as of this writing and one of the more optimistic tracks in their catalogue imo! it's yearning, but it's also with a genuine hope for the future.

and LASTLY. because im going to take every chance i can to plug this band. im going to throw some collabs and covers at you because there's one thing this band does SUPER well and it's collabs and covers.

of the night - this is the big one. it mashes up rhythm of the night by corona and rhythm is a dancer by SNAP! and it's so good they still do this one live and it goes off every time.

no angels - a mashup of "no scrubs" by TLC and "angels" by the xx, poured into a strangely mournful tune with clips from the hitchcock movie psycho. doesn't sound like it should work but it does. kinda really does.

torn apart - with GRADES and lizzo no less!!! it's got two parts but they're both excellent listen to them both

weapon - collab with angel haze, dan priddy, and F*U*G*Z and one of my absolute favorites

remains - remix of their song "skulls" but featuring rag'n'bone man and skunk anansie that adds an entire new dimension to the song, really fucking excellent

old town road mashup - lil nas x's old town road meets lizzo's good as hell meets radiohead's talk show host meets talking heads' road to nowhere meets the osmond's crazy horse. "what the fuck that shouldn't work" i KNOW and yet here it is!! BLATANTLY BANGING!!!

we can't stop - one of the few times dan smith subtly changes the lyrics of the song he's covering (most of the time he opts to keep the original pronouns and the like, which is very nice to see). anyway this one mixes miley cyrus's we can't stop with eminem's lose yourself and billy ray cyrus's achy breaky heart. and also the lion king's i just can't wait to be king is there. yes i know it sounds batshit especially because the whole thing is surprisingly melodic and heartfelt and you know what it works.

anyone but me x nightmares - mashing up joy crookes' anyone but me with easy life's nightmares and absolutely one of my favorites.

bad guy mashup - how many songs can they include with the word "bad" in the title? we've got bad guy (billie eilish), bad decisions (bastille), bad romance (lady gaga), and bad blood (taylor swift). bastille even has a song called bad blood and they didnt use it. they used taylor swift's version. also the distinctive guitar riff from dick dale's misirlou is there.

somebody mashup - how many songs can they include with the word "some" in the title? someone like you (adele), somebody told me (the killers), somebody to love (queen), use somebody (kings of leon), and someone you loved (lewis capaldi). seriously these guys take mashups to a new level.

final song - this is a cover of MØ's final song. it also adds in craig david's 7 days and, impossibly enough, europe's final countdown. how does it work. how.

ALL RIGHT. THATS ALL IVE GOT IN ME. HOPE THIS HELPED ANON AND IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH

#askin hours #anon #bastille #ill put this in the bastille tag why not #this is predominantly a fall out boy blog but if any bastille bloggers are out there....all like 20 of you.... #i see the work u do in this fandom and i love u for it

[mithrilwren]

1, 8, 14, 23, 26!

1. your favourite playlist (made by yourself or someone else)

I didn’t think it still existed, because 8tracks went bye-bye, but I found it on Spotify! about her, which was a Hannibal playlist made for the character of Abigail Hobbes, and it influenced my musical taste in uni like nothing else. The description also stuck with me for years, and is the only reason I was able to find it again: you can be a threshing sledge, new and sharp with many teeth

8. if you were going to write a non-fiction book on any topic, what would it be?

Oh gosh. Probably... the history of fanfiction, maybe? I just think it’s a fascinating topic, and one I haven’t seen much scholarly attention on in a really deep, or recent, context. If not that, probably media criticism of some kind.

14. an artist (of any kind) whose work you look forward to seeing

Lindsay Ellis’s video essays! They’re always both incredibly entertaining and very informative. (A video essay counts as art, right? It would be so hard to single out just one artist from fandom, because there are so, so, so many incredibly talented ones.)

23. the book you just finished and what you thought (no spoilers!)

I’m not sure you can give spoilers for a book about history, but I finished The Face of the Ancient Orient: A Panorama of Near Eastern Civilizations in Pre-Classical Times by Sabatino Moscati this week! Overall, very informative - I appreciated the attention to providing archaeological sources for any more hypothetical claims, and it was surprisingly readable. That being said, this book was published in the 1960′s, and I can feel the age in the value judgements about what is inherently ‘civilized’ (in the moral, not descriptive, sense) and worthwhile in a culture, as well as the lack of more recent archaeological data. I’m currently reading another book that covers the same period (and more) that’s filling in the gaps rather nicely, and verifying a lot of what this book said, so I’m happy I read both!

26. the film you watched most recently that you could watch again and again

Like TV, I don’t watch that many movies either, so hmm... I’m going to have to go with The Prince of Egypt, because I did watch it recently, and it’s probably the only movie on the planet I want to watch again and again, besides maybe The Fellowship of the Ring.

#ask meme #thank you!!

[antiquery]

do you have another site you’re going to switch to when tumblr is euthanized?

i mean, i’ve been here for roughly four and a half years now and i don’t really blog about/consume nsfw content, so i’m probably staying here until they make me leave, or until a critical mass of people whose content i do consume head elsewhere. i won’t delete this blog, it’s quite valuable to me as an archive, but i want to be where the people are. however! there are several other places you can find me!

dreamwidth @ dantealighieri: i don’t use it yet, but even if most people move to that pillowfort thing (which i am also looking into and will update you all about when i get one, which ought to be soon) i plan to use it as a mirror on which to keep all the meta i’ve written here on tumblr that isn’t #profesh or polished enough to go on the wordpress blog linked to on my resume. if most people move there, well, so will i.

twitter @ arouets: this is where i Talk About My Life/do “academic” “networking” (weird, i know, but classics as a field is oddly and surprisingly informal and sometimes a leading scholar in the field of sff reception follows you and retweets your bad dream-quest jokes, and that is apparently normal)/put hot takes that aren’t good or developed enough to go here on tumblr.

ao3 @ earnshaws: this is where The Fanfiction goes. pretty self-explanatory.

i’ve also got a goodreads, an 8tracks, a spotify, and a pinterest, but if you’re here for the things i write (which i suspect many of you are) then the above are the places to go.

#Anonymous #q&a

[its-love-u-asshole]

Shaking in My Skull [Final]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

Summary: Stuck on the plane between life and death, Saruhiko makes the decision to risk everything, forced to find faith in himself and the headstrong Yata Misaki as they both face unimaginable demons.

Note: Wow, I can't even believe this is the last chapter. I started this fic 8 months ago, started planning even before that, and this fic means so much to me I just can't believe. The first scene of this chapter is one of the three scenes which started the whole fic, so it's extra unreal lol. Thanks to everyone here reading, enjoy! Big thanks to @emeraldwaves  for beta-ing this story from the beginning, and letting me brainstorm ideas and complain about it with her lol! 

Also, because some people asked about the backgrounds of Mikoto and Munakata as well as the other deities, I decided to make a little backstories post for them, which you can find the link to below! ^^

Ao3 Version

8tracks

Backstories Post

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"Fushimi? Fushimi!"

Saruhiko's eyes snapped open, his breath catching as the smell of city exhaust and fast food assaulted his nostrils. His senses felt overstimulated, the blurs of images and color, coupled with the warm climate making him sweat was enough to leave him not moving and speechless. Where...

But he didn't have to ask, not when his heart was constricting furiously in his chest at the sound of a very familiar voice, his mind reeling from the city bustle which he'd once been so accustomed to. There were cars stuck in traffic on his left hand side, the occasional horn and screech of tires jolting him further out of his stupor.

Saruhiko had no explanation for any of it. It wasn't a dream. It felt too genuine, but maybe it was a hallucination from his trial worn mind, maybe it was another trial entirely, his memories turned against him. It would be cruel sure, but not unexpected, he'd faced worse as a matter of fact. So of course, this was another attempt to remind him of the ever present distance between himself and his life. It had to be.

And yet...

He choked on his own emotions as they blended into his logic. Part of him had to know, had to be able to tell. Each reasoning felt cheap and poor, and he wanted to cry, as unnecessary as it sounded. The hope residing inside him was bubbling up fiercely as he breathed in, his body catching up along with him despite his attempts at denying.

Despite it, Saruhiko felt light, his muscles relaxing in a way that was nearly unfamiliar to him. After so much effort and pain, how could he cope with feeling so brand new all of a sudden?

His hands twitched, and he glanced at them in awe; the skin was uncut and clean, from what he could tell at least, which wasn't much due to his strangely hazy vision. There were no notable scars or detectable shaking, but there was a bow tied neatly around one palm. His pulse raced as he felt the fleece, as if not believing it was there. But it was a fact, wrapped securely over nonexistent wounds. His heart wanted to explode, but the lack of clarity still had him slightly anxious. It reminded him of the hazy image of hell's gate disappearing, alluding him, and he thought maybe this was all a fabrication after all.

It would be the last time he considered such a thing.

Saruhiko could make out his surroundings, but they were blurred, the edges of the cars and the sidewalk too soft, along with the outline of the person in front of him. A person, he told himself, because judging from the sudden scratchiness in his throat as realization closed in, he couldn't handle hoping for the best. But he knew that voice, knew those blonde curls, hazy or not.

But it couldn't be, this couldn't be real...

The burn in his eyes increased.

I failed right? So why...

He recalled the feeling of something slick against his bloody hand, and his breath hitched.

The breeze hit his skin lightly, and he felt something jostle atop his head, and any remaining doubts froze in his mind, permanently destroyed by one voice ringing in his head, for the very last time.

"Well done, Fushimi-kun."

It was there and gone in an instant, but Saruhiko would never let himself forget it.

"Fushimi? Are you even listening to me?" The woman in front of him asked again, and Saruhiko's walls crumbled down. Not waiting a second longer, he slowly reached up, pulling his glasses down to cover his eyes, and watched the world bloom into clarity.

Seri looked annoyed with him, that was for sure, going by her slight pout and narrowed eyes, which did nothing to take away from her overall intimidation. She was as she should've been, rested, well dressed, not a tear or flash of dread in sight. It was how he wanted to remember her, and how he'd hoped for her to remain. There, in front of him, where he now had the courage to reach out. But he stayed frozen, overcome.

She crossed her arms, seeming none too pleased that she was being made to wait for an answer, and Saruhiko would take that any day over her mournful cries.

"Well?" She asked once more, juggling her work bag awkwardly against her shoulder as he continued to stare, too much in shock to do much of anything. So of course, his next words weren't the most refined.

"Um...what?"

Wrong thing to say, apparently.

She all but dropped her bag, which was a big deal, since it was rather new and pricey from what he recalled, and began giving him a surprisingly welcomed piece of her mind.

"I knew it! You weren't listening," she said, barely holding in a groan from the sound of it. He would've apologized, really he would've, considering how much he'd missed her and how he now knew she didn't deserve half the shit he gave her. But well, he had no idea what was going on, or where they'd been going, or what day it even--

"Honestly," she said, softer this time. "I told you this was important. Fu--Saruhiko, I know you think the rehearsal is a waste of time, but I'd really appreciate it if you weren't late alright? It's tomorrow at six, so please, no more complaining okay?"

Oxygen all but left Saruhiko’s body.

Rehearsal. The wedding rehearsal. There was no way…

But well, was there truly any more reason to doubt?

“Seri,” he said, cutting her off sharply, and smarter men would’ve been afraid of the expression she gave in return. Well, or men who hadn’t just supposedly traveled to hell and back. Twice. “What…day is it?”

At the simple question, she seemed caught off guard. It was rather unlike him to forget details like that, especially when his work consisted of dating forms and remembering appointments, but she answered none the less, giving him the final push. “August 14th. Saruhiko…are you feeling alright?”

An understatement, if he’d ever heard one. His limbs finally relaxed, and it took everything for him to not fall to the floor pathetically, to not make a scene right there. He couldn’t comprehend half the emotions running through him, but for once, none were of the purely negative sort.

The one thing he was able to acknowledge was that he was back. Alive. Home.

I made it.

It didn’t feel nearly as unbelievable as before. Slowly, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, whether to cover the unguarded expression from being shown to the world, or to simply ground himself. It wasn’t important.

Seri was looking at him still, though the annoyance was replaced with a mildly concerned incertitude, waiting for his answer, the bright blue of her eyes holding the same question as before.

Was he alight?

Yeah, he thought, allowing himself a laugh as he stepped forward, never better.

Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her into him, crushing her against him with the weight of longing he’d built up over ages. He heard her purse hit the floor from the shock of it, and he squeezed tighter, willing himself not to buckle from the repeating mantra in his head.

You’re back.

You’re back.

She yelped against him, her arms staying tense at her sides, unsure of what was going on. Of course. Saruhiko didn’t give hugs, certainly didn’t reciprocate when others initiated them. It was extremely out of character, and the analysis merely made him cling tighter.

His body quaked a bit as he buried his face into her shoulder, the exhaustion and strife flooding out of him in immense waves, leaving him raw and vulnerable in the best way. People were whispering around them, and yeah, maybe he should’ve waited until they weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk, but honestly, he didn’t care.

Hesitantly, Seri’s hands came up to clutch at his sides, taking another moment to test the waters before she gave in completely, pulling him in without question in the usual strong show of support. Even when she didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know why he was upset, she returned the embrace full force, like the pillar she was.

To think, he once believed he could never need this, could never miss this. Such a coward he’d been. Even now after everything, the urge to push it all away was there, weak in his stomach. The part of him which believed nothing was permanent, everything could be taken away.

But well, he could put that part of him to bed at least for today, because it had lost.

They were all here, he’d kept them waiting, and they would never know. Seri. The guys. Misaki.

Misaki.

His thoughts were in a frenzy as he pulled away, dodging Seri’s concerned hand as it quickly came up to check his temperature. He had no clue where to start, what he was doing, but he let desire pull him for once. Best to start with the people closest to his location. “Where…where are the guys?”

Seri’s voice croaked as she collected herself from the tight hug, picking up her bag hastily as Saruhiko began to read the street signs frantically. “T-the office? B-but—what, Saruhiko…you just—who—”

“Let’s go then, before they clock out,” Saruhiko said sternly, already turning them in the direction of his workplace, when she yanked him back by the arm.

She was afraid for him, he could see it. Having him act crazed, affectionate, it was cause for concern, but she didn’t have to worry. He was fine, better than fine, and it was a miracle he was this coherent, after what he’d just finished accomplishing. She couldn’t have known that though, maybe she would never know, if he decided whether or not to tell her one day. All she understood was something was amiss, and she wanted to help fix it. Somehow, the familiar show of care had him resisting another hug, the memory of her crying over his death a bit too strong in that moment. How had she ever been upset about him being gone? How had any of them? It was Saruhiko who needed them the most.

Slowly, he took a deep breath, fixing her with a calmer gaze, if only to calm her down.

It was unfair of him, to leave her in the dark, he knew it, but while he had all the time in the world now, he felt impatient, because that time would never be satisfactory anymore. Especially when…

When I know the expiration dates.

But well, he would dwell on that another day.

“I forgot to tell them something, I just need to go fill them in,” he replied, less hurried, and her shoulders sagged in slight relief.

Yeah, like how they’re idiots, but they should never change.

Ugh, it sounded stupid even in his head. Maybe he wouldn’t put it that way.

She sighed at him, a million questions probably on her mind, but she took his bait in the end. “Okay, I understand, but we just left the office ten minutes ago, remember? We finished up early, and I told everyone they could head home before the evening rush. If we went back now, there’s no guarantee anyone will be there.” She squinted at him, gauging every reaction, and Saruhiko would’ve found the treatment beyond irritating, had it not been what he needed. Truthfully no, he didn’t remember any of that, but he was starting to.

Right, we started to go home early, earlier than usual…she was wondering if I wanted to help set up for the rehearsal…

The pieces of information gradually began to fit together, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what happened next.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue at the inconvenience of both her words and his memory, but Seri knew how to rectify his moods at least, supplying the right words and logic to placate him. “I wouldn’t worry. You’ll see them at the rehearsal tomorrow night, might as well just wait.”

Ah right, she had a point. While a day was a long time to wait, it offered up a solution to his problem, and plus…

Misaki would be there.

As if being pulled, Saruhiko turned in the direction of the Shizume Bridge, where he knew Misaki would be around this time. He died right after me, around this time, so…

If Saruhiko ran, he could probably make it, could intercept the other before the rehearsal, because there was no doubt he couldn’t hide their connection should Misaki see him in the crowded banquet hall. Plus, Misaki didn’t know Saruhiko was alive again, time had been rewritten sure, but all Misaki remembered was Saruhiko failing. Should they meet in public…

Well, the shock and emotion would probably be notable, even if Saruhiko was in control of himself by then.

Annoying.

Regardless, he couldn’t fight the fond smile on his face, the thought of seeing the redhead again too utterly pleasant to resist. Why he hadn’t already booked it towards the other, was because Seri was next to him, and parting from her even for a day wasn’t any simpler, not anymore. Speaking of Seri…

She was gaping at him now, a novel expression for her, and he quickly wiped the smile off his face. Damn, the sudden jump in his character would have to be fixed at some point, or at least more gradual.

“Saruhiko…are you sure you’re not sick? You probably need some sleep. Maybe you shouldn’t come to the—”

“No. I’ll be there. I won’t be late.” Saruhiko made sure to look her in the eyes then, as if he could communicate all he’d learned in those simple statements. Seri just closed her mouth, nodding once, before the softest of smiles bloomed on her face, the trust palpable in the air between them. It was more than he could ask of her, right then. But… “I’m going to head home,” he said, adding a tongue click for good measure. “Maybe sleep isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but shooed him away regardless, satisfied with the exchange enough to not fret about him. Good. With purpose, he turned on his heel, stepping in the direction of the main street before he was being pulled back by her distressed voice once again.

“Wait! Don’t go that way!” He halted instantly, his reflexes a tad more sharpened now, and raised an eyebrow at her disappointed eyes. “Really? I told you earlier, there’s construction that way, it’s probably dangerous. There’s been a few accidents already.”

Saruhiko would’ve protested, in fact, he was about to. After all, he’d taken that way home many times. It was quicker, more efficient and less likely to waste his time, so naturally it should be worth the slight one in a million risk. He was about to tell her all of this, but he never got to.

Saruhiko felt his body jolt, the memory striking him full force as he froze mid-step on the sidewalk, the familiar smell of fresh pavement invading his senses as it all played back.

“And remember, it’s at six! Don’t forget!”

Seri’s voice grated on his nerves as he made way for the cross walk. The end of the day hadn’t come soon enough, and the last thing he needed was the additional time slot on his calendar being occupied. She’d been reminding him constantly, how could he possibly forget? It was a rehearsal anyhow, why put so much importance on attending? It was pretty useless from his standpoint, he was sure everyone could figure out where they were sitting and what they had to do on the actual day of the wedding. Any extra preparation was severely cutting into his work time. It was a miracle they’d managed to finish early today, and even then, he had more than enough of everyone else’s slack to pick up with the work he was taking home.

Pointless.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, barely sparing the blonde a glance when she scurried up to him, about to part ways to her own home, which was still in much need of unpacking. He supposed she’d need his help with that too. Great.

“No promises,” he muttered, waiting for the light to signal for him to walk, and ignored the huff she gave in return. He could sense the desire in her to protest, maybe to try and wear him down with some heart felt statement about how much it would mean to her, or whatever it took for him to give her an indication of a futile promise. He wasn’t in the mood, and she should’ve known by then. She was lucky he was involved at all, he’d never seen a point to weddings in the first place, at least beyond the show type aspect of it.

She remained silent however, surprising him, but the silence wasn’t unwelcome. But as he made for the turn to his usual shortcut, where he parted with her on most days, she called out to him. “Wait Fushimi! You shouldn’t go that way, there’s construction remember? There’s been some accidents already…”

Saruhiko scoffed at her, shrugging his backpack further onto his shoulder as he made no move to turn around. “It’s faster, I’ll be fine. I’m not walking all the way around anyways.”

“But—”

“See you tomorrow,” he said, not adding the ‘maybe’ which threatened to leave his mouth. He was irritated, maybe more than what was appropriate, but it had been a long week, and the stress of social occasions on top of it all wasn’t something he was used to. He just wanted to get home so he could start his reports, hopefully Enomoto wouldn’t be there tonight. Saruhiko didn’t trust himself to not snap at anyone right then.

After another block, he’d left Seri behind completely, coming to the intersection which had cement trucks lining the shoulder. Two of the lanes were closed, the cars messily trying to merge together before reaching the broken stoplight, where a lone worker directed the traffic haphazardly. The sounds of horns honking and disgruntled shouts from car windows were abundant, but Saruhiko paid them no mind as he continued to walk.

Soon, he reached the curb, noting how he was the sole pedestrian on that side of the street. It made sense, since most of the large loading trucks were moving in and out from his side, rendering the pedestrian traffic inconvenient at best, but Saruhiko didn’t care enough to move to the other side. The cement truck, whose driver seemed on the verge of a tantrum, could wait. The worker blew the whistle again, motioning for Saruhiko to walk hastily, and he stepped into the road, glaring at the ground as he strode forward.

Apparently, the cement truck driver hadn’t been paying attention though, missing Saruhiko completely, and taking the whistle as his signal to step on the gas. Hard.

Saruhiko barely got a last breath in.

He felt his hands stiffen, his feet stumble as he fell back, crushed by the truck’s force. The nausea came after that, and so did the disassociation. Did he still have legs? He would have to, from the way his femurs snapped. He’d heard it, there was no way he couldn’t. The tremors traveled up, even his eyelids felt the tingles, the harsh stings of force.

His skull shook, and one may have wondered if his brain had survived the hits it took against that fractured mass. The vibrations traveled further still, down his spine, cracking his ribs like twigs in a burning fire.

All this inconceivable, unimaginable pain was felt in just a split second—there for but a moment before it was all gone. Nonexistent, as if it had never happened.

Then, there had been the silence. White walls. The sound of a shoes on a tile floor. Misaki.

Death.

Saruhiko jolted out of the memory, breathing accelerated as if he'd been in the moment again, and his legs froze out of fear, his proximity to the street a bit too unnerving at that moment. It was too much for him, not the reason behind his death, but the moments leading up to it as well.

Stupid. How stupid he'd been. It would've been so easy, so simple to avoid everything. The last thing he'd said to Seri was more of a dismissal, and the only things in his heart had been contempt and displeasure with life as whole. So typical of him.

And what had it gotten him? A journey filled with horror, but also Misaki, and a massive reality check. All the trials and pain, the voices and doubt...

He'd gone through it all, had to push himself and push Misaki, had to depend on the other as well as feel completely alone. The yearning and hopelessness had felt never ending, and now it was over. He had returned, he was alive.

How? How was he worthy of any of it after a death like that?

It's too much.

His knees finally buckled after all his effort to keep steady, to act normal, he couldn't anymore. The weight of reality was finally crashing down, all he'd been through was finally standing out in his mind. He was having the moment, the I can't believe I'm here moment.

Was this how Misaki had felt, after being told he was victorious.

God, it was like a high he never hoped would end, but also a painful remembrance. But really, how had he ever questioned coming back? How had he been so close to dismissing this?

"Saruhiko!" Seri rushed to his side, catching some of his weight before he was able to collapse fully, shouldering him as best she could. She was always strong, but he'd never appreciated it more. He could hug her all over again in that moment, and suddenly he thought it might be worth it, to run back to the office and see who was there. "Ugh, that's it, there's no way I'm letting you go home by yourself." She looked around, eyeing the intersection ahead with skepticism. "Well, if you really think the shortcut is the fastest way, maybe we should--"

"No." His answer was quick, harsh enough to cut, and she startled notably at the tone until he started to backtrack. "I mean, there's no point, with both of us and the construction, it'll take the same amount of time." He sighed as irritably as he could, hoping the nerves and mixed relief didn't shine through. If he could help it, he would never walk that way again, and he sure as hell wouldn't let Seri either.

He thought of Misaki though, of him standing on the bridge alone, alive but without him, and felt the pang of guilt intensify within him. But with Seri being overprotective and his desire to collapse from exhaustion, there was no way he could go searching, no matter how badly he wanted to. Saruhiko had ventured to hell and back to see the redhead again, to kiss him again, and one day seemed far too long. But part of him knew he had no choice, he would have to wait, would have to let Misaki suffer alone for a handful of hours before he spent the rest of his life making it up to him. It was almost amusing, the thought of seeing the other the next night, for the first time in the living world. He guessed the rehearsal truly was where their story was meant to begin, had things not taken a wrong turn.

So be it.

He pulled Seri far away from the curb, not wanting to walk anywhere near the bustling evening traffic, and began the short journey to his apartment with content. Seri quirked an eyebrow in confusion, throwing up her free hand in surrender at his weird behavior. As she shook her head in disbelief, she balanced him better, but refused to let him pull away completely, like he'd surely fall over if she didn't keep some sort of connection to him. He didn't refuse. "Alright, we'll go the long way then."

"Mm, thanks."

She blanched once more at the easy display of appreciation from him, the sincerity of his tone, and he vaguely wondered how long it would be before she became used to it. Part of him also dreaded how the guys would react to it. Ugh.

Though, the annoyance he feigned was barely there at all anymore. He sighed, the familiar walk, one devoid of creatures and ghostly whispers, seeping into his mind, a memory he'd be sure to catalog for many years to come. The walk home.

As they made their way, Seri huffed, shaking her head slightly. "You really must be sick. That's the last time I let Domyoji make the coffee in the morning, I thought it tasted strange, but you just kept drinking it so--"

Saruhiko snorted, letting her prattle on about their friend’s inability to brew decent coffee, vaguely remembering having no choice but to consume the foul liquid on many occasions. He'd let her believe it was only that, at least for now. He'd tell them all someday, before it was too late, about the challenges and beatings he'd endured, the nightmares...

But for now, he enjoyed the lightness of the conversation, and the warmth settling deep in his chest.

"Huh? What's so funny?" Seri looked up at him, hand tightening on his arm, and he thought yeah, this is more than enough for now.

He stared tiredly at her, the smallest of smiles on his face. "You're right. It must've been the coffee." 

--

When Yata woke up on the morning of August 15th, it was as if he'd been pulled under water again, unable to breathe or comprehend anything going on around him, though he was alone in his simple apartment. It was less like how drowning had felt, and more like he had been submerged in a tank, watching as a flurry of memories, events which would now never come into existence, played before his eyes.

 In fact, he'd been feeling this way since his return, since the previous evening when he had walked home, debating on the first course of action, while also juggling the grief still heavy in his heart.

 Except, it had felt as if it hadn't been the first time he'd done so. Upon seeing the old paintings in his living room, he couldn't help but think, didn't I throw those out? And upon hesitating to dial his mother's phone number, he wondered why he could already feel the ghost of her arms around him, shushing him in comfort.  

 The weight of longing and sadness when he thought of Saruhiko was there of course, but it felt extra painful, like it was a wound long healed which had been torn open again, left to bleed anew.

 But why was that?

 Yata raised his hand to his face, eyes squinting as the beginning trickles of sunlight bled into his room, and felt the dried tears on his face, the roughness of his skin. As gently as he could, like one wrong move could disrupt everything around him, he rolled over in his bed and stared at the date on his digital clock.

 August 15th. Yeah, that was right, felt right...but also, seemed hugely inaccurate. Surely, it was the result of Yata's mournful state, his confusion, the trauma he was attempting to come to terms with. He'd yet to touch his paints, yet to eat or think about anything worthwhile really.

 The fact that he'd officially beaten death, that he'd finally moved on to the next day of his life, was no doubt a shock he hadn't been ready for, and that's why he felt so unstable.

It would get easier...better, part of him knew it, as if he'd already experienced it, but at the end of it all, each new day would be without Saruhiko, and Yata wondered if he'd ever comfortably be able to accept that.

 Timidly, he sat up, the bed suddenly a little too lonely, which was funny, since Saruhiko had only ever shared a dirtied surface with Yata for sleep. Regardless, Yata craved the warmth of another person next to him. He groaned as he stretched, feeling gross from the street wear he had slept in--he hadn't bothered to change--and the ghost of grime on his skin. He knew technically all the evidence from the journey had been erased from his flesh, save for the suspicious scar here and there, but he could sense the dirt under his now clean fingernails, the sweat and dried blood. It was all in his head yeah, but muscle memory was a powerful thing too. He kicked aside a box of art supplies, grimacing at the shades of blue which caught his eyes, and chose to slump down onto the floor. He wasn't ready to make the effort of picking out new clothes for the day, and it was better than the cold bed.

 Come to think of it, did he have to get ready at all? The rehearsal should've been cancelled, the one which required the fancy suit which Yata had reluctantly hung up in his closet, and which was probably exactly as he'd left it. Of course, the rehearsal was only a set event if things went according to plan, plans involving no deaths in the bride's party...

 At the thought of facing Saruhiko's grieving friends, or imagining how they must be feeling right then, Yata's stomach dipped, threatening to expel what little was inside it. He would need to learn to control that, or simply avoid any talk of funerals and wakes all together. Surely the pain was still fresh for those close to Saruhiko, and for Kusanagi, who was left with comforting his fiancé.

 Yet, he'd gotten no text from Kusanagi the previous day about the tragedy, no alert about cancelling the rehearsal or being unavailable himself. In confusion, Yata pulled out his phone, watching it light up with two notifications. His breath hitched upon seeing Kusanagi's name, but as he read the text, the world around him seemed less and less secure.

 Kusanagi: Yata, I hope you're up already. Don't forget, you promised to come help the boys set up for the dinner today, see you around noon.

Kusanagi: Also, bring your suit. I don't know if you'll have time to head home and change before the dinner starts.

 Yata's first reaction after the distraught faded was to panic. What? The rehearsal was still happening? How?

 His fingers scratched against the carpet, the frozen appendages barely getting feeling back as his thoughts reeled left and right. The possibilities he came up with were minimal, but none too pleasant. Perhaps no one knew about Saruhiko yet, maybe no one had been expecting to hear from him until the dinner.

 When he doesn't show up...

 Yata thought he might actually be sick, and he retreated to the bathroom for good measure, head suddenly pounding. The ceramic of the toilet felt too cold against his clammy hands, and it was just one of many sensations which were too much for him at the moment. The texture of the tile floor, the footsteps from the floor above him, the material of his clothes...

 His brain was having too much trouble processing it in addition to the crushing realization that he would have to witness Saruhiko's family finding out about his death. That and the realization he too, would finally know how the other perished.

 "Fuck..." Yata groaned, debating on whether he should just skip out, call in sick and deal with Kusanagi's wrath. It wasn't like it would last anyhow...soon the older man would have to deal with a postponed wedding, and a mourning fiancé. It would be easy...to avoid the pain for a second time around. After all, the last thing he wanted to hear was that Saruhiko was gone. He knew, but it didn't make the pangs of loneliness any weaker. Yata tended to be an empathetic guy, from what people told him, seeing so much grief over Saruhiko, who to everyone else, was a complete stranger to him, would be utterly impossible to bear.

 Hesitantly, he pulled up his messaging app, reading to give Kusanagi some excuse about not being able to attend, but his fingers wouldn't type. Stupid...as if you could get away with this.

No one would understand, and he wasn't the type of person to lie to a friend, he wasn't sure he was capable of it. He had to go.  What kind of friend would he be if he didn't stand by Kusanagi in support when the evening fell to shit?

 Acting oblivious would be difficult, but any tears he spilled could surely be blamed on atmosphere, on pity.

 He scoffed at the word, hating it suddenly, because his cries would forever be of loss.

 But well, maybe part of him kind of owed it to Saruhiko too, to offer whatever comfort he could to the taller's loved ones, since Saruhiko could not. With the grounding thought in mind, Yata straightened up and away from the toilet, letting the calm buzz of the bathroom lights fill the air as his breathing rate lowered, and his panic dissolved.

 Right, you have to go for Saruhiko. He won't be able to. You have to get it together dammit! Not just then, but for the sake of his life, for his future. Yata would live enough for the both of them.

 With shaky movements, Yata stood up from the floor, shedding his t-shirt as he turned on the shower, letting steam seep into the small space. As he left to grab his suit from the closet and lay down new clothes onto his bed, his eyes caught sight of his old paintings, and the dull and superficial colors which had seemed to taunt him yesterday didn't look as bad.

 Maybe he might try to sell them, gain some extra money and start new. The stuff he used to paint before weren't as appealing to him now, and he felt his hands itch for different themes, for stories of trials and love, and most of all himself. Of course, he'd throw in some blues here and there too.

 Yata actually managed to crack a smile at that, excited for his slowly developing vision of the future, and reorganized the box of paints he had impulsively kicked earlier. Much better.

 Not everything was lost, he knew it. Today would be hard, about as hard as any of the trials of the afterlife, but he'd get to see and laugh with his friends for a little while, and things would improve as the weeks went by. More than anything, Yata resigned to see his mom, and apologize to her fully for his absence. Everything else would fall into place, and he could pace himself as much as he needed to.

 He walked back towards the bathroom, his entrance into the steam almost refreshing as he looked towards better days. Though life without Saruhiko would never be one hundred percent, Yata would carry the other with him in all he did and created, and the hopeful thought was enough to give him the energy he needed. And while something in his gut told him something was still amiss, he ended up walking out of the shower with more purpose than ever before.

--

His eyes never stopped searching for the thousand watt grin, for shining amber eyes, for the familiar brightness in the dark he had begun to crave. Or, that’s what he was used to, but maybe the world around him wasn’t so dark anymore.

Saruhiko turned away from the entrance of the room, which he’d been watching like a hawk, and let himself gaze at madness surrounding him. It was a good madness this time though. The reception hall was probably the least extravagant part of Seri’s wedding, but it was no less decorated, the lighting and fixtures catering to the color scheme perfectly. It felt empty as it was now, tables devoid of the off white table cloths and twinkling lights above, giving it the sought after fantasy look. Those things would be absent until the big day though, for now the large room held empty tables with cheap covers, the artificial light from above casting a bright glow as the bride and groom saw to inspecting it, laying out the seating cards and making sure the flower arrangements wouldn’t be too cluttered. Only the immediate family and friends of the two of them were present, barely fifteen people in total. It made the room look twice as barren, but oh well. When it was filled with guests and music, drenched in smells of cakes and food, Saruhiko was sure Seri would be pleased with it, though she constantly complained throughout the rehearsal that things weren’t right or weren’t properly placed. He didn’t get it himself, did all that really matter?

Saruhiko nearly had the nerve to ask, but Kusanagi, ever the stoplight to disaster, had elbowed him sharply, smile wide as he preached about the bride always being right in these cases. Whatever. It wasn’t like Saruhiko was going to argue, he was content enough as it was, just seeing the blonde and her fiancé fretting about, alive and well in their acts of scolding. Things had calmed down anyhow, the food for dinner being brought in and laid out, along with copious amounts of alcohol courtesy of Kusanagi’s bar. Apparently, Kusanagi’s party had showed up in the afternoon to set up, and were now beginning to wind down, but from where Saruhiko sat, there was no sign of Misaki. Initially, he’d been wandering about, paranoid that something had happened, convinced he’d never be allowed to see Misaki again in some cruel twist of fate, but he’d eventually been escorted to a place setting. It was his assigned seat, a spot at a large table, and it would’ve been an anxious wait, being forced to sit and stare at the one way into the room, had it not been for—

“Fushimi-san! You’re not going to drink?” Enomoto happily held up his own glass and another, handing it to Fuse. Seven pairs of eyes were on him instantly, and he shrugged at the full table of his coworkers. It was only natural they’d all been seated together, and he found the proximity strangely comforting.

It had been refreshing all evening, his yearning for Misaki aside, amidst his party’s bickering and griping during set up. Saruhiko had almost forgotten what it was like, being influenced by each and every quirk and personality trait they had to offer. Hidaka complained about the lack of girls in Kusanagi’s party, as if the wedding would be his first step on a road to true love, and Domyoji was more concerned with the DJ and food, pulling out clippings of suggestions (as if Seri hadn’t booked a caterer months in advance). Kamo made sure his daughter wasn’t getting into things, happy as ever that it was his time with her that month, and Akiyama was lost in a conversation with Benzai, sitting a bit too close to not be a bit suspicious to Saruhiko. Though it was hard to ponder too much on it with Gotou talking his ear off for a good portion of the evening. Saruhiko had simply asked him about one of his collections, and the sudden interest in his hobby had lit a fuse of some sort. Saruhiko couldn’t mind too much. As for Enomoto and Fuse well…they were as affectionate as he remembered them, but less sickeningly so.

Saruhiko had initially taken care as to not seem so different around them, but with their smiles and loudness, as well as their need to throw him in the middle of their conversations, he had dropped the act hours ago. Besides, seeing their surprised reactions to his sudden ‘niceness’ was a gift in and of itself.

It didn’t mean he had changed completely though, and the sharp criticisms remained apparent in his speech whenever they got too rowdy. Saruhiko rolled his eyes at them, willing the attention away. “Unlike you all, I like to actually be in control of my actions,” he said, clicking his tongue as he eyed the champagne critically. “Besides, I’d hate to be the one of you who gets too drunk and ruins the dinner.”

Oh how Seri’s punishment would be steep.

“Hey! Why are you implying that it’ll be one of us?” Hidaka jumped in, his own glass sloshing messily, and Saruhiko snorted from the panic in his eyes. Fuse neglected to comment, sipping his drink in amusement while the rest of the table laughed, and Saruhiko bathed in the familiarity of it all. Hidaka’s expression was nothing short of petulant, but he was always quick to recover. “This is hardly a good atmosphere to get drunk anyways! After work tomorrow, you’re totally coming to a bar with us Fushimi-san!”

It was meant more as a distraction, since the invitation had been uttered from the mouths of his coworkers one too many times, and for the most part, they were used to his outright refusal. Even in the last few years, with his less standoffish nature, it would take copious amounts of begging to get him anywhere near a public outing with the lot of them. As for now though… “Sure. Let me know where,” he replied, tone bored as his eyes scanned the crowd, back to their earlier task of locating a particular redhead.

He didn’t bother looking at their gaping expressions, but he felt them, the disbelieving eyes boring into his back irritatingly. Three, two, one…

Rather than a direct verbal assault though, they tag teamed, with Hidaka fearlessly grabbing Saruhiko’s face and jerking it towards him, stupidly inspecting his features while Gotou poked him. In the meantime, Fuse saw his opening at last, the bastard, and promptly let loose his skepticism. “Are you sure you’re Fushimi Saruhiko? You haven’t been replaced with some android, trying to gain our favor in order to steal government secrets?”

“Yeah, you didn’t even threaten to kill me when I spilled coffee on you earlier!” Domyoji jumped in, raising an accusing finger. “You’re an imposter!”

Wrenching away from Hidaka’s grip (who finally had the nerve to look a bit abashed about it), Saruhiko fixed them with a glare, mostly annoyed from being distracted from his watch, but there wasn’t as much animosity as usual, and the idiots began to use it as more concrete evidence as to why he had been replaced (possibly by aliens now).

“I’m surprised you all managed to figure it out, you got me,” he deadpanned, and it fed into the madness.

“He has jokes now!” Domyoji’s shout garnered more than a few stares, and Seri directed a fierce glare at them, the typical ‘I love you but shut up’ traveling across the hall. The ginger had enough sense to quiet down, as much as he could at least, but he was soon smirking again, nudging Akiyama in the side as he spoke. “Pft, I bet Fushimi-san would even let me hug him now, huh?” He snorted at the thought, the rest of the table raising their eyebrows at just the suggestion, joke or not.

However, it gave Saruhiko just what he needed to shut them up. A dangerous smirk made its way onto his face, and the atmosphere at the table might as well have plunged in temperature. Not his fault, they were the ones testing his patience. Blinking slowly, he fixed Domyoji with his challenging expression, enjoying how the older boy notably gulped. “As a matter of fact, I would. Why don’t you try it?”

Benzai paled, Enomoto choked, and the rest of them didn’t seem to know what to make of the situation. Domyoji straightened in his seat, innocent eyes widening as he took in the words. “W-wait…really? You’re not joking?”

“Nope.”

It was easy to see the cogs turning in Domyoji’s head, trying to discern if it was a bluff or not, and really, Saruhiko hardly knew either. Though he was never much for physical contact of any sort, something about traveling to hell twice just to sit at this table full of losers made him a bit more willing.

Domyoji squinted at him, but rose from his seat anyways, inching little by little towards Saruhiko. The rest of the table held their breaths. “O-okay…imma do it…last chance to back out ha…”

“I’m waiting,” Saruhiko said, eyes never leaving the quivering form of Domyoji. Enomoto was biting his nails.

“Y-yeah, prep-prepare to be hugged!”

“Joy.”

Domyoji was about a foot away now, and it had taken him a good two minutes to cross the initial five foot distance from around the table, and Saruhiko could feel the warmth and tension radiating off him now. He inched forward again, the sleeve of his jacket just touching Saruhiko’s shoulder…

“Oh god, never mind!” Domyoji shouted suddenly, flying back into his seat at lightning speed, clutching Akiyama’s arm. “Hell no! It’s like walking into a venus fly trap!”

Saruhiko smirked triumphantly as his friends exhaled, laughing at the ginger’s expense, and soon the topic of his sudden personality change was lost to comforting Domyoji, and trying to not attract more attention. He considered it a success.

--

The reception hall had filled considerably in the next half hour, the remaining relatives and college peers flooding in to take their seats.

Still no Misaki. Saruhiko had begun to shred napkins in his lap, glaring at the childishness of it as he reached for yet another. The emotion bubbling up inside him was fierce, upset at being caged, and he willed it down. He caught Enomoto staring at him a few times in concern, but Saruhiko prayed the other wouldn’t bring it up in front of everyone else.

The sound of clicking heels distracted him from worrying, if only for a moment. Seri came bounding over in quick strides, and Saruhiko was pretty sure he hadn’t seen her sit down once since the evening began.

“Alright guys, food is out and almost everyone is seated,” Seri announced to them in a hushed whisper as she approached the table, hands smoothing over the front of her embroidered evening dress. “How do I look? I’m going to go meet Kusanagi’s side of the family now.”

Gotou’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked her over. A backless A-line dress, blue in color, with gold beading in the front, and high heels to match. Simple, but regal. “Wait…didn’t you meet them earlier during set up?”

She crossed her arms, the question deemed unacceptable from the simple movement. “I mean yes, I met some of the guys, but no formal introductions, certainly no family or college friends! Proper introductions are in order.” She said the last bit with a frazzled gesture to her person, and wordlessly, they all gave her the thumbs up, which was enough for her to tuck a stray piece of hair back with a pin, and train a smile to her face before walking back into the fray. Saruhiko did not envy her. However, she turned back around halfway, like she’d forgotten something, and grabbed a new glass of champagne quickly before returning to them.

Benzai was about to ask what was the issue, but he never got the chance.

“Thank you all for coming to this,” she started, voice notably softer, a tone saved for them, and she raised her glass. Her crystal blue eyes twinkled with something private as she scanned over each of their faces, and Saruhiko clenched his pile of shredded paper, remembering why he’d tried so hard to make it back to this life, one where he could hear such pointless words. Except, he couldn’t call them that anymore, huh? “I know planning this has been hectic, and it’s probably going to get worse with the wedding in a month, but…having your help, I couldn’t ask for better friends, my pillars of strength. Cheers to all of you.”

Calendar dates and years repeated themselves in his mind as he and everyone else raised a glass, but he paid no mind, knowing it was useless. What was meant to happen would, as much as it angered him, but the things he could control, like this, he’d gladly take advantage of.

Seri wiped her eyes, taking a fast gulp of her champagne before she was off, leaving them in a bubble of stunned silence amongst the chirps of laughter and greetings. Saruhiko’s hands went back to his half shredded napkin, but suddenly he had no energy for that either.

“And with that…it’s time for more alcohol,” Hidaka sniffed, standing with Domyoji and excusing them to the banquet spread. Kamo seemed less than pleased with the example they set, but it didn’t matter, because soon he was being dragged away by his daughter anyhow, eager to get first crack at the desserts being laid out. As for everyone else, they dispersed, Akiyama and Benzai disappearing to somewhere unknown, and Gotou left to greet some of Seri’s in laws, as was appropriate. It left Fuse and Enomoto with him, which he didn’t mind so much, except for the fact they obviously knew something was amiss with him, his head turning continuously towards the entrance, eyes scanning the crowds.

If they exchanged some sort of knowing look, Saruhiko wouldn’t know, but after a few minutes, Fuse was excusing himself none too subtly, touching Enomoto’s shoulder as he made for the banquet table. Great.

It wasn’t helpful that Enomoto sat almost directly in front of him from across the table, the eye contact, although shy, searing as Saruhiko avoided it. He was fairly sure Enomoto was angling himself now, trying to catch Saruhiko’s eye, periphery or otherwise, but upon finally realizing Saruhiko’s resistance, sighed in resignation.

Not ‘I guess I’ll give up’ resignation, no, the ‘guess I’ll talk to him anyways’ resignation. Ugh.

“Fushimi-san…you seem distracted,” Enomoto commented, like it wasn’t obvious to them both. Saruhiko appreciated his attempt to not seem nosy though.  “Are you looking for someone?”

Someone. Hm.

To him, Misaki was more than a someone, he was everything. It was as scary as it was pathetic, but it shouldn’t be a surprise. They’d gone through alot together, Saruhiko had done so much to just be able to see the redhead again, to start fresh and build something together. The separation he’d been forced to endure, the pain and desperation, it made it so clear in his head. He wanted to be with Misaki, in whatever way the redhead would permit, though Saruhiko’s selfish desires clouded up the vision quite a bit. Now, the distance between them, which was now minimal, barely there at all, felt agonizing. So yes, he was looking for someone, the one who should’ve been there from the start. There was no use denying part of that, he guessed.

“You could say that,” Saruhiko replied, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. He was watching Kusanagi’s main table, where a band of young men were seated, drinking and laughing away.  Saruhiko recognized them from the Return, from the vision Munakata had allowed them to see, but they were happy now. Only one thing was similar: Misaki was missing.

Enomoto beamed after recovering from the initial shock of actually getting an answer out of him, skipping a few seats over until he was almost in front of Saruhiko. “Who? Someone special?”

It was hard to fight the fondness welling up inside him from those words, because really, they were true. He couldn’t let that show though, Misaki was supposed to be a stranger. Saruhiko might be able to get away with calling him an acquaintance, someone he met outside of work by happenstance and who just so happened to be part of Kusanagi’s group. That was even a stretch, openly admitting any deeper involvement was ill advised. He kept it in mind, when choosing his words. “Someone who…doesn’t annoy me I guess.”

Enomoto actually had the nerve to snort at that, fixing him with an uncharacteristic smug smile, and Saruhiko knew the intent he’d tried to get across had failed the moment those olive eyes twinkled in delight. Oh well. Not like it mattered. If he kept all these idiots around, and he’d be sure to, they’d be finding out about Misaki sooner or later, and much to Saruhiko’s chagrin.

“Fushimi-san, that’s basically you for ‘someone I like’ you know?” Enomoto said, rising from his chair before Saruhiko could respond. Not like he’d actually had an answer to such a bold statement though. He guessed his friends really did know his quirks to the smallest detail. He could deal with that, he supposed.

Giving him one last wink over his shoulder, Enomoto sauntered off to his boyfriend, leaving Saruhiko alone at the table, waiting dutifully once again.

The group toasts, the ones which included the whole room were about to begin, the last of the late arrivals grabbing plates of food and taking their seats. Saruhiko could see Kusanagi checking on his own tables, while anyone who had been standing halted their conversations as they waited for the bride to take the mic. Saruhiko was going to tune out the speeches, not needing Seri’s rehearsed words, stress induced, to reach his ears. Besides, the last of his focus had quickly dwindled, eyes drooping in a sudden bout of disappointment. Funny, it was an emotion he had never let himself feel before, too worried about his attachments and the grief they could bring. Now, it overcame him in waves as the room quieted, missing the one voice he so craved and—

“Where’s Yata?”

Jerking his head up, Saruhiko sought the source of the voice, catching Kusanagi talking to another young man wearing glasses, the dark rim of his hat occasionally hiding his eyes. “Oh, I think he’s still in the back unloading the last of the alcohol. Awashima-san was worried we were running out,” the man said, and a brief spark of stress flashed across Kusanagi’s face.

“Damn, we’re about to start. I’ll—”

Saruhiko’s chair scratched against the floor from the force and speed with which he sat up, crossing the several feet to Kusanagi in record time, much to the two’s surprise. Saruhiko didn’t care. “I’ll go get him, things are starting soon Kusanagi-san,” Saruhiko said, looking over to where Seri was beginning to fiddle with the mic. “Awashima won’t appreciate the wait.”

“Ah,” Kusanagi said, a bit startled. “Thank you Fushimi…uh, he should be right out back, just call his name and—”

“Got it.” Saruhiko barely finished before he was turning around, stalking out of the main entrance and veering left, towards the building’s back exit.

The hallway was long, but the door was in plain sight, each footstep beginning to echo louder and louder as he approached. It was déjà vu, but not, seeing as how the first time he had been so nervous approaching a door, it meant terrors of unimaginable proportion were waiting for him. This time, all he’d encounter was a warm embrace, soft skin, a voice which Saruhiko had used to motivate him through fire and dangers of all kinds.

This was it. After all this time…

Who knew how long it had actually been, years maybe, with how long his second journey had felt. He wondered what Misaki had done in that span, before time had been rewritten. All because of Saruhiko, and his stubbornness. He almost felt guilty, stealing away all of the progress Misaki must’ve managed in that time, but the selfishness in his heart was too strong, the relief he felt greater than everything else.

"Saruhiko! Did you hear that? You'll see your friends, it'll all be the same!”

In the end, Misaki had been right. They were picking up right where they left off, and then some. Saruhiko shouldn’t have doubted him, Misaki and his strange, but unyielding faith in the both of them. Surely, Saruhiko would have to pay that back, and he would, in whatever way Misaki wanted. Saruhiko would never be perfect, still shouldered a lot of the same issues as before, but he was willing to try now, and he could only hope Misaki would appreciate it.

Heh, gods know I appreciate him.

And Saruhiko couldn’t help but wonder if they, those beings who had been rooting for him from their gaudy thrones, were watching this moment too, holding their breath as Saruhiko was, heart beats stalling as he pushed the door open…

The cold night air hit him, the alley darker than the nearby street due to its lack of light, illuminated by a lone lamppost as a figure unloaded one last box off the back of a car. Saruhiko froze, the agony of separation and too much effort falling away in an instant when he caught a glimpse of fiery hair and toned arms.

Misaki had his back to him, the occasional curse being muttered as he cut open the last box with a knife, his back muscles flexing from carrying the heavy load and stacking it on top of the others. His suit jacket was lying haphazardly on one of the boxes, his shirt sleeves rolled up and somewhat stained with dirt. The pants he wore needed to be hemmed, from what Saruhiko could tell, and had he not been so taken by the image before him, he might’ve commented.

It wasn’t the time though.

Misaki rested his hands on his hips, looking over his work with a heavy sigh, like he’d never done a harder task. Saruhiko smiled softly, and he thought he saw Misaki laugh, like they’d unknowingly shared the same thought. Misaki had done much harder feats of labor, they both had. Complaining about anything else was ridiculous at that point.

It was the reminder of those shared challenges, the connection between them, and the memory of Misaki’s bone crushing hug as the redhead left him in hell, that had Saruhiko’s fingers slipping from the door, letting it slam shut, tearing through the silence.

Misaki jumped, amber eyes shooting to meet his blue ones, and the revelation was instantaneous. The echo of the door slamming filled the silence, as if the noise was having trouble traveling through the thickness of it. Saruhiko swallowed, because seeing Misaki’s eyes, so vibrant, so alive…it was more than he could handle.

It all seemed to stand still, and Saruhiko wondered if seconds even passed while he watched Misaki’s lip tremble, and felt his own blood rush, his heart beat ringing in his ears. It would make sense, given what he knew, for time to be manipulated, for higher forces to give him this one moment, unaffected by time or whatever was happening in the dining room. After all the universe had taken, it indulged him in this, letting him feel the burst of love he felt for the person only twelve feet away.

It was the connection which had guided him to safety.

Saruhiko was on the ground before he could blink, if he’d even been able to, too taken with the image of Misaki in the flesh and blood before him. Misaki’s arms were around him, nuzzling his face into his neck as Saruhiko toppled back, catching himself right before his back hit the dirt. His jacket was probably ruined, he couldn’t care less. He pulled Misaki farther into his arms, legs squeezing against the redhead’s sides due to the force of the full body hug, warmth unlike anything Saruhiko had ever felt before flooding him.

Searing. Full of life.

“You’re here….” Saruhiko whispered, the feelings which had built up too much to hold back any longer.

Misaki pulled his face away from the taller’s neck, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes as he half cried, half laughed. “I’m here? You dumbass, what about you? What are...” Misaki trailed off as his gaze lowered to Saruhiko’s lips, and Saruhiko’s intentions weren’t far off. They met in the middle, kisses quick and desperate, drinking each other up like they could disappear again in the next minute. But something told him that they’d never let that happen again, they would find a way back to each other, because they were that idiotically stubborn, deep down. Misaki tasted like mint, a flavor which had been absent the first time they’d kissed. It was a small, embarrassing detail, but Saruhiko reveled in it. Misaki’s taste.

Misaki held the last kiss for longer this time, though Saruhiko was hopeful there’d be many more in the future, and his eyes were on Saruhiko again, pupils blown wide and searching. Misaki let his body relax, legs repositioning to sit on either side of Saruhiko’s waist, and shook his head. “How is this…what…how are you here? Munakata said you…”

The words were lost to the noiseless air, too grave to be spoken again, like they were cursed. It was silly, to fear such a thing, but Saruhiko was still in shock if he was being honest, hadn’t fully recovered from returning to that moment on the street on an August evening. Life was so fragile, he was hyperaware of how he could lose it again, from the drive to the rehearsal to walking to work. Even for him, who had beaten the odds and returned, wasn’t guaranteed the next day. No one was.

But this, Misaki staring at him with confusion and unhidden fondness…he’d try to keep it as long as possible.

There was a lot to explain, where should he begin? Was it worth retelling those months of agony, the months spent lying around until the solution had come to him? Would Misaki want to know about each new trial? Would Saruhiko actually be able to tell him? There was so much to share, and yet he had no idea what was appropriate. Something told him the redhead would want to hear it all though, the journey which had brought him back.

Misaki leaned down at the same time Saruhiko pushed himself up farther, their foreheads bumping, like a silent and eternal pact between them. I’m on your side.

Yeah, sounds about right.

Saruhiko sighed, figuring he’d best start at the beginning, and opened his mouth. “I—”

The applause from the adjoining room reminded him of where they were though, what they were supposed to be, versus what they were. Somehow he didn’t mind the interruption, the reminder. Saruhiko stared at the door leading back to the reception hall, back to the world they now both shared, and Misaki laughed from his spot on top of him.

“Eh Saru, maybe you should save it,” Misaki said, smiling as he got up and offered Saruhiko his hand. “I think we’re late.”

Saruhiko managed to crack a smile at Misaki’s poorly concealed amusement, because yeah, time was a thing they actually had to worry about again, passing regularly and all too quickly, unaltered except for those truly worthy.

With a soft nod, Saruhiko grabbed his partner’s hand, the snug fit all too familiar and infinitely perfect, and followed him into the building.

--

Yata shut off the television, staring with displeasure at the blank screen. “Well, that was shit.” He dropped the remote in defeat, plopping onto his side on the soft couch, one which he never got tired of sinking into. After so many years of his shitty, torn up couch which could barely hold Saruhiko and him at the same time, the new plush couch had been an amazing addition. Of course, they'd had to wait a year or so before they'd gotten it, since they needed a bigger apartment to fit the furniture, but it had been worth the wait.

Yeah...

Lots of things had been worth the wait.

Yata smiled as he looked out across the ample sized living room, which was nearly as big as his old apartment in total size, and basked in the afternoon glow seeping in through the windows. They'd been living there for a few short months, but Yata had gladly associated it with feelings of comfort, as a refuge. Home. Sometimes the fridge buzzed too loud and the lights flickered, the sink would routinely clog and they needed to replace some of the tile in the kitchen...but mostly, he couldn't ask for better.

The sound of typing reached his ears from the table, along with a disinterested hum as the owner of the device addressed Yata. "I told you it looked awful, you shouldn't have wasted your time."

Yata watched as Saruhiko stretched in his lounge wear, looking like the perfect mix of annoyed and relaxed as he shut his laptop, scooting it away from him and jostling Yata's strewn about art supplies, all of which sat on the table. Yata usually yelled at him for not respecting his stuff, but he also knew Saruhiko had told him to get his crap off the table many times in the first place, so there was no use in arguing. The table was always a mess, and it would probably stay that way forever.

Yata's smile grew, the reminder of Saruhiko always being by his side too wonderful to ignore. He knew it like his own name now, but even after two years and all their time in the afterlife together, the thought of Saruhiko beside him made his stomach flip. It proved to be true in any case, especially when he'd wake up at night drenched in sweat, images of barren wastelands and tombs fresh in his mind, to find Saruhiko wide awake beside him, gripping his hand tight. Yata would do the same for the taller in return, when the talk of the future came up, when certain years and dates approached, and the light left Saruhiko’s eyes for brief moments.

They coped the best they could in those times, and Yata knew those things wouldn't ever go away, yet...he couldn't help but find himself incredibly happy.

Well, except when he was subjected to shitty movies.

"The effects looked cool! It was just...I totally knew everything that was gonna happen, and I wasn't expecting all the hell and heaven scenes..."

Saruhiko snorted, leaning back in his chair before scowling in distaste at his now dull soda. "You knew going in it was a story about angels and demons, you should know better than to watch those anymore," Saruhiko sighed. "They're pathetically unrealistic."

Got that right. It was a tired joke between them, movies about death and the afterlife, or any themes similar. Since having experienced the real thing, the appeal of such plots often fell short. While Saruhiko had given up trying to enjoy films about that stuff, Yata was more stubborn. He continuously searched, eager for an outlet for his own experience, but of course, found none. Saruhiko routinely reminded him that, as far as they knew, no one else had any idea what awaited them in the great beyond, or whatever. It remained annoying regardless, but lately he'd started to ponder a new option, and it grew more and more enticing with each day.

Well, if we're the only ones who know...

The idea poked harder at Yata’s brain, and well, when he actually was inspired it was hard to resist. Standing up with a huff, he walked over to the table, grabbing his tablet and inspecting it with a bit too much focus, like it would give him all the answers rather than him actually doing any work. If only it were so simple. "I should just make my own story, I've been getting better with my digital stuff, I could do a comic..."

Instinctively, his free hand joined Saruhiko's on the table, the touch as natural as breathing, and the taller hummed, raising a brow at him. "About?"

Yata smirked, trying not to laugh as the amusement between them grew. "Not sure, maybe these two people die and they have to go on some journey to be brought back to life. There's also this god who won't shut the fuck up. Oh and a parrot."

"There's a parrot?"

"There's a parrot."

Yata had to look away, determined to not cave first, and he was probably crushing the life out of his boyfriend's hand, but oh well.

Saruhiko stood up, coming up behind Yata and hiding his face in the crook of his neck. "Hm, sounds fake."

Yata bit his lip. "Yeah, totally lame. Imma scrap it."

"Would never happen."

"Two out of five stars."

"I would've given it one."

By the end of their exchange, Yata was dying, leaning on the table for support and trying his best not to drop his tablet. He made good money now, but last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of getting a new one of those.

Yata leaned back into the touch, reveling in the simple feeling of Saruhiko's steady breaths against his skin, and wondered if he'd actually do it.

A story like theirs would take a lot of time, of planning. The details were important, the imagery. It would mean revisiting some painful memories, opening up to complete strangers about an experience he held near and dear to his heart, but at times wanted to push away with the strongest force. People would hate it, would criticize it, the events which changed his view of life. He knew that of course, as an artist. But this was different yeah?

He turned his head slightly, the impulse to catch Saruhiko's lips in a kiss too strong, and remembered it was different for both of them. The suffering they'd shared, the relief, it was all too much to wrap up easily and cast out into the world.

And then suddenly, the idea he'd been pondering for weeks seemed less and less appealing, all too complex and grand.

Yata didn't need other people to know about his strife to feel validated, he realized, not when Saruhiko was there, not when he woke up every morning, proving of his success.

"You still thinking about actually drawing it?" Saruhiko asked hours later while they were in bed, limbs entangled and eyelids droopy, and Yata smiled at him, more content than he'd ever been. All because of an accident, a journey, and the people in his life. It was a story so personal to him it hurt, and as Saruhiko smiled at Yata's soft shake of the head, Yata knew he felt the same. 

And he thought, well, maybe they could keep the story to themselves just a little bit longer.

--

"Watching again Munakata?" Mikoto's gruff voice broke Munakata out of his pleasant observance, and the deity spun around quickly, as if caught. The water of the pool rippled into nothingness, disturbing the image of the two lovers until they were absent from view. Munakata huffed, not one to deny the allegations, but not particularly happy with how sneaky Mikoto had become. What happened to those barbaric, loud footsteps from before?

Munakata couldn't be severely displeased though, seeing as how the volume change was most likely due to Mikoto's desire to not attract attention when he returned from visiting Totsuka. The thought caused a calm smile to bloom on his face, the one which Mikoto usually dubbed as being creepy, but Munakata was hardly swayed by such insult.

Things are right in the world, living and dead it seems.

"I was simply checking on how they were doing," Munakata said, the relief clear in Mikoto's shoulders when Munakata didn’t ask him of his previous whereabouts. As if he didn't already know. "I am...happy that they're doing so well."

"Been two years," Mikoto muttered, slumping in his seat with a noticeable displeasure in his aura. "You can stop babysittin 'em."

"I wouldn't put it in such a way, it's not babysitting," Munakata sighed, turning back towards the pool. Perhaps Mikoto did have a point though, there was no concrete reason for checking in on them, but well...maybe Munakata just favored them, two souls which he greatly respected, and would be honored to see again. Nothing wrong with it. Also, it was no lie that Munakata had caught Mikoto staring into the pool from time to time as well, smiling at the progress of the two Returners. But, Munakata was not one to point fingers in retaliation. At least, not at that particular moment. "What's got you in a mood?"

A grunt was his reply, and Munakata nodded. "Ah, you know, you can spend as much time with him as you please, Totsu--"

"I know Munakata," Mikoto rolled his eyes, slouching further into his seat. "We got stuff to do though, always..."

Ah, well that is true.

Their jobs of sorting, of dealing with late arrivals, it never ended. Though heaven was Mikoto's domain, he would never be able to be there permanently, with the one he loved, until he and Munakata were relieved from their duties, and allowed to retire to the sanctuary. Time was strange for them, it passed quickly and yet not at all, the centuries bleeding together as they watched the world develop. Perhaps Munakata was a bit envious too, of Yata and Fushimi, for getting to live their lives freely in a way Munakata could not.

However, such thoughts were unbecoming. One day he would get his freedom, and hopefully when he did, he would be satisfied with the work he'd left behind, and those chosen to take his place. Speaking of...

"When's our time up eh? I never remember," Mikoto mumbled from his seat, staring at the baroque ceiling above, the bell of a late arrival reminding them both of the tasks which still needed attending. Oh well, this was Munakata's job anyways.

As he grabbed his cane and made for the door which would lead him to Isana's post, he dipped his hand in the pool, leaving Mikoto with the image of Yata and Fushimi, sleeping soundly in the life they'd created together.

Mikoto peered at the scene with fondness, before dipping his hand in, watching it vanish, and there was a finality in the movement which made Munakata regret not appreciating the scene more. He supposed it was fine though, he would see them both again, in time.

As he made way for the exit, a cunning smile formed easily on his face, his reply easy and certain. "Oh…seventy years or so. That sounds about right."

#sarumi #adri writing #k project

[redxluna]

Tagged by the @somanyjacks (who changed their url and is now nug-less, le gasp!)

Is there a snack you like to eat while writing? Things I can eat with one hand are a love, but I always get nostalgic about having a cup of tea at my side when writing.

What time of day do you usually write? To be honest, my bursts of inspiration can be so finicky that even if I schedule time to write it typically doesn’t happen until ages later. For some weird reason, huge incentives to write strike me right in the middle of work, which really isn’t the place for me to be writing safely. Over the weekend, though, I usually wind up picking at pieces through the afternoon or late into the night (I tend to lose a sense of time on days off).

Where do you write? Most regularly would be up in my room in Nerd House on the bed. Sometimes I’ll grass in the great room downstairs where all the video game consoles are. It can be difficult to keep productive down there, though, since that times spilt between social hour and other distractions.

How often do you write a new fic? I tend to write ficlets a heck of a lot more with focus on one or two big fics. I’ve learned from previous mistakes in terms of being haunted by the WIPs of years past. To be fair, a lot of my ficlets tend to start interlocking into a verse of sorts because I have a limited sense of control*face palms*.

Do you listen to music while you write? Pretty often! 8tracks has been a God send for that sort of thing since there’s free will to search for whatever playlist might be needed. I tend to plot through music regardless so it’s helpful to pull up music that I know will help to center me (Fallout mixes full of 1950s tunes surprisingly work for Bakery AU too). If I’m writing a scene I really need to focus on, though, I tend to turn the music off so I can focus on it alone or aim for purely instrumental music.

Paper or laptop? Laptop! Although I do miss hashing out scenes for ideas floating around in my head in my trusty moleskine.

Do you have a special pre-writing ritual? Does getting comfortable count? It’s really just about getting rid of the tabs that I know will distract me (stop checking your tumblr activity @me) then snagging the right playlist and settling in.

What do you do to get into the writing? Brainstorm. I might not be able to write as freely as I might like at work, but I can wear headphones. So I really do just search out playlists that inspire whatever plot idea might be tugging at my head and go for it. Sometimes I’ll snag my moleskine or something else to write down a good bit of dialogue or a scene that pops into my head.

What do you always have near the place you write? Um...water? Part of that is because almost everyone in Nerd House lives off of bottled war. Not as a result of our water being bad so much as it’s just easier to keep refilling a spare bottle than dirtying a glass or buying something else. I also need to take pills daily so I put in an added effort to keep the water by me topped off.

Do you have a reward system for word counts? Only when it’s really approaching the pulling teeth level. Being a NaNoWriMo veteran will do that to you. I used to do it as a trick when role-playing with @some-radical-notion too. I’d set up something that I couldn’t reblog until I finished a fill for her :)

Is there anything else about your writing process your readers don’t know? I keep loose outlines in my head rather than out on paper, which my mom would very much like to kill me for. I do so much brainstorming to keep myself sane when bored that it’s sort of a catch all which get snagged to become ideas. 

I’m tagging @mrverymello, @captain-amoruca, @stillarobyn, and anyone else who wants to do this. It’s fun!  

#about me #writing life

[tsukana]

1 week later I finally realise I was tagged in something by the amazing @hinatashoyyo​...

Nickname: Est (my friends), tsu (in chats), taz (uni friend), qi (fam members) aaand that’s pretty much it cause my name is surprisingly hard to make nicks for

•Zodiac sign: scorpio

•Last things you googled: tim drake fanfic recs

•Favorite music artists: umm they change a lot but rn i guess its ed sheeran, lin manuel miranda, and i have a lot of songs by the paper kites, of monsters and men, t swift, birdy, oh and boyce avenue has some jammin’ covers

•Song stuck in your head: it’s literally been bouncing between ‘what do i know’ by ed sheeran and ‘how far i’ll go’ by moana. i just keep finding myself humming them?? 

•Last movie you watched: beauty and the beast (awesome highly recommend)

•What are you wearing right now: a size L long sleeve (it’s more like an XXL on me honestly lmao) shirt that came with my camera bundle i use as pj’s and my pj pants 

•Why did you choose your url: *flashbacks to the first self insert fic i ever wrote* it was the name for my self insert fic turned online alias name that i took parts from. i think i made a post once but it’s basically [tsukio kagehana] with the name in japanese convention of last,first name

do you have any other blogs: yep! my poetry sideblog @hallowmist, and i’ve been thinking of maybe starting a photography blogs with my instagram pics

•How many blankets do you sleep with? 1 normally but sometimes 2 in winter 

•Dream job: photographer, writer maybe, and.. idk maybe something with computers? i’m surviving with attempting accounting rn tho so 

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single and steady

FAVOURITE COLOUR: navy/midnight blue

LIPSTICK OR CHAPSTICK: uhh lip balm? 

LAST SONG I LISTENED TO: Bulletproof gamper & dadoni remix by la roux (on 8tracks) 

TOP 3 TV SHOWS: how the heck am i supposed to choose. you’re gonna be getting anime and tv shows if thats alrighty: 

fmab, haikyuu, one piece // leverage, elementary, brooklyn nine-nine

TOP 3 CHARACTERS: that’s so rude. okay um as of current obsessions: tim drake, stiles stilinski, monkey d luffy (and joan watson and edward elric and oikawa and oh god so so many)

TOP 3 SHIPS: oh um. my main burning one rn is definitely supercorp and i guess olicity? Also luffy/adventure + nakamaship (does that count? it should.) i read a lot of shippy stuff and i have several but the first two are prob my active ships atm and i always ship luffy with adventure

BOOKS I’M CURRENTLY READING: nothing rn aside from fics, but i did promise val i would read the foxhole court by nora sakavic after my finals are over

i’m gonna tag @kiwiliko, @vinanu, @chocolatequeennk, and @megatraven

its fine if u dont wanna 

#moonpetals #tagging game #tsu talks #about me #about the blogger

[femslashrevolution]

on femslash without fandoms

This post is part of Femslash Revolution’s I Am Femslash series, sharing voices of F/F creators from all walks of life. The views represented within are those of the author only.

i was more than a little surprised to be asked to write for this, as i don’t actually consider myself to be in fandom anymore, largely because my experiences with Fandom As A Thing have been deeply negative. so while i have tried to keep this overall positive – and everything about femslash in it is positive – it does discuss some, uh, not so positive things about fandoms. (also i swear, a lot, it’s like 60% of my vocabulary and i’m bloody incapable of {a} apologising and {b} stopping.) 

i used to be In Fandoms, when i first joined tumblr. i was a teenager, naive and convinced that just because someone loved a show as much as i did, we were going to be best friends. it’s unsurprising, then, that at twenty-three every fandom i was a part of back then i have walked away from with few regrets, either because certain people would not quit it with the genocide apologism that was necessary to support their favourite m/m ship or i just got capital-T Tired of people having priorities so different from mine that it felt we were watching different shows. (the regrets that i do have largely centre around not being able to push Those Fandoms As Concepts into the fucking sea.)

but what does this have to do with femslash specifically? it took me a while to realise, too. i have always done things that i was explicitly or implicitly not supposed to do, the first often because i am Peak Slytherin fuck you i do what i want that’s definitely not a bad idea what do you mean, the second because if you combine my emotional intelligence and attention span you get something about the size of a pencil eraser. i started writing femslash because i wanted to and it was what i found important. it never consciously occurred to me that in the minds of a lot of people i shouldn’t write femslash until i started getting serious pushback from other people in those fandoms, including, in one instance so absurd that it was actively hilarious to me, death threats. (surprisingly not from the same fandom that was responsible for the genocide apologism. y’all, the internet can suck. choose your people well and hold on tight. if you choose poorly, kick those fuckers out of your life and be kind to yourself in the aftermath). i continued writing femslash, because i wanted to and it was important to me and i got the bonus pleasure of making Unfortunate People really mad, and i left those fandoms and never joined new ones. 

anyway, i kept some friends from those fandoms, and they are very dear to me. they are the ones with whom i shared not only a love of those shows but a love of sprawling worldbuilding, fey things beyond the skies, cities and space stations that are more than half alive, and, most importantly, ladies and ladies-loving-ladies. they were, i realised belatedly, basically the only people i had ever really interacted with when i (we, really, most of them left the same times and ways i did) was still In Fandom. it has left me with a lingering distrust of people who … well, ‘of people who do not prioritise femslash ships’ is harsh but mostly true, though i suppose ‘of people who are ambivalent-to-negative about more than a couple of my femslash ships’ works as well. still, perhaps, harsh, but aggressively curating your friendships and setting unbreakable boundaries is an act of self care that is really fucking necessary when fandom is so goddamn wide and the internet is, yknow, the internet.

so: i am not in fandoms anymore. i could carve out my own space over and over again in each one, but really? i am a fan of many things, and i have friends who are also fans of those things, and together we sit in our corner of the internet and chat with each other and write femslash set against backdrops of apocalypses or living cities or fey courts and process our various brainbads together and support each other. sometimes we will see A Fandom that we used to be in together, or A Fandom of a thing we’re currently watching have a Bad Opinion, and make a pact to write more femslash (spite is a beautiful motivator and you should never underestimate it). sometimes we will post a ‘hey there should be more femslash’/‘this overprioritisation of a het ship is really disturbing’/etc thing in fandom tags, and then actual children start trying to pick fights with us and we will remember that we are Old and Tired and if someone likes our fics they will probably find them on ao3 anyway. 

that, then, that is my advice about femslash: don’t create for fandoms. create for you. create for your friends. create because fuck you, do not tell me ladies and their relationships are lesser. there is a tendency to frame fandom as a genuinely and wholly positive thing but it takes a shittonne of effort to make it positive. and, you know, it can be worth it! but please never feel you have to create for Your Fandom. create stories and art about all sorts of ladies and how they love all sorts of other ladies – love them platonically, romantically, sexually, recklessly, violently, messily, beautifully – because ladies are fucking awesome and deserve all sorts of stories.

ladies are important. writing and art about ladies, especially right now and especially ladies who love other ladies, is important. take your anger and your spite and your friends and do fucking beautiful things with it kids.

–

kimaracretak is a perpetually undercaffeinated lesbian phd student who likes femslash, landscapes that would like to eat you because they love you, and the two of those in combination (and yes, she writes about ladies in her academic life too because fuck you, don’t tell me what to do). she can be found with the same username on 8tracks and ao3 and believes in the universe-altering power of spite, random dice rolls, and friendships between women in metal bands.

#kimaracretak #Type: Meta #Femslash February #Femslash February 2017 #I Am Femslash #submission

[geirutoneido]

This is um really random but I saw ur fanmixes and they're really neat?? I was wondering if you had any tips for making a mix for a character bc I want to try and get into doing that sort of thing? Sorry this is really out of left field ^^;;

NO THATS OKAY I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MIXES AND YOU HAVE ACTIVATED MY 100% SPECIAL INTEREST MODE i really love mixes in any case and i have a lot of thoughts

here’s a rundown of a few things i think are important in a mix, and i’ll explain them all below the cut because this is bound to get pretty long:

a theme/genre: it can be any kind of theme you like (ie a pairing, particular aspect/trait of the character, something abstract like corrosion, a particular music genre), but it helps in finding tracks that go together and having good flow to the mix

transition/flow: this is one of the most important things i think! don’t just toss a few tracks together, they need to transition well from one to the next. going from katy perry to ajj doesn’t usually work well, even if both songs work well for the character.

storytelling/track order: related to the transition of tracks, they also need to make sense structurally. say, you have a song about their childhood and one about their love life, it doesnt make much sense to go from their love life to their childhood, so put them in appropriate order.

so to actually start making a mix, i’d say to find a theme or genre first, to work with. that sounds kind of hard, but what works for me is to just collect a bunch of tracks i associate with that character in a youtube playlist, and then see which tracks are strong, if there’s any that work particularly well together, and then just copy those to your draft playlist and find more tracks to build around it.

an example: i know [over 80 tracks i associate with the phantom], but realistically not all those are gonna work together. for [the actual phantom mix] i made, i decided to build around “neil cicierega - wnrdwll”, and specifically searched for [other mashups and other upbeat but distorted sounding tracks] to create the theme of, well, screen burn.

other examples: [my souta mix is based around musicals], which ended up working surprisingly well, and [my manosuke/souta mix is based around dadrock], because, you know, daddy issues, just like me

then there’s the transition and flow! once you’ve got a good feel for what you want, you’re going to have to find songs that actually go well together. that doesn’t just mean in terms of genre, it also means that you make sure you don’t have one really loud song next to a quiet one, (unless you’re doing that intentionally). basically, listen to your songs and decide by ear if it is or isn’t jarring to hear them in that order.

an example: in my phantom mix, [the tracks] go from slow and relatively coherent to faster and more incoherent - and then after raocow’s cat planet (which is 90% “catplanetcatplanetcatplanet”), it goes straight into an ajj song about murder, which is a jarring transition but done for effect.

other examples: i do something similar in [my manosuke mix], from the upbeat “the dear hunter - go get your gun” to “if not now then when - toast” which is in whispers for effect. in [my very first mix], and my souta musical mix, i’ve also included tracks without text specifically for the transitions between songs and making the whole thing a bit less overwhelming/a lot on an end.

EDIT: for this point, also consider looking up covers, mashups, [specific genre] remixes, or even nightcores if you’ve got the right song but bad flow!

my last point, is storytelling! this is a lot more up to personal preference, since you’re the one who knows what you’re seeing in those tracks and what story you’re telling, so i can’t give you a lot of tips on how to do it, but mostly just to keep it in mind. my favorite kinds of mixes are mixes that are an experience from start to finish, with lyrics in one song paralleling those in another, and a good intro and outro, rather than just a few character relatable tracks tossed together!

an example: [the tracks] [in my manosuke mix] start off with songs about childhood/fathers (how much do you love me/father/the hell of it) and then go into narcissism/obsession/a desire to be useful (oh no!/gallery piece/i’ve seen all good people), then murder (go get your gun/toast), confrontation with edgeworth (knight jumps queen), aftermath of his actions and relationship with souta (be nice to me/everyone else is an asshole/knight moves/the hands that thieve) and finally, death (the hands that thieve/best friend). in summary, that’s basically manosuke’s entire story, told in chronological order! and it wouldn’t work very well in any other order.

as for the parallels, the manosuke mix has multiple songs about chess that glue the whole thing together (ive seen all good people/knight jumps queen/knight moves), and the lyrics in “how much do you love me” parallel those in “knight moves” (”how much do you love me/how much do you care” / “do you love any/do you love none”). i do that in the souta mix too with both the original and an instrumental cover of gee officer krupke, and i basically made [a whole (two) mixes structured on parallels and shitty moon jokes] before.

some extra additional tips:

when picking tracks with important lyrics, consider lyric videos/captions/tracks with clear vocals. if the lyrics mean a lot but no one can make them out, that’s not very useful!EDIT: on the topic of accessibility, i personally like using well-known songs, because most people will know the lyrics even without captioning. i know it’s not for everyone, but don’t immediately write off a song just because it’s well-known or like... [a meme]

think about the length of your mix: a really long mix is hard to listen to in one sitting and focus on, but a short one is a short experience

i usually use youtube for my mixes, since 8tracks stopped service outside of north america, but i hear good things about playmoss as alternative

and, well…

it’s probably pretty obvious at this point, but keep in mind i tend to overthink mixes a little to the point of pseudo-science, and you don’t actually need to take all my advice to make a good mix! these are just some things i do, and maybe a few places to start out in, but ultimately the most important thing is of course that you feel good about your mix and like your selection, so that should be your goal above all else!! as long as you enjoy listening to it, it’s a good and successful mix. (if you don’t like listening to it, just keep editing until you do)

good luck with your endeavors, and i hope you have fun making a mix!!!! ty for asking!!! n__n)/

#anonymous #text heavy - #long post - #im so sorry if youre on mobile and this readmore isnt working this is the sound of me infodumping #this is ok 2 rb btw #replies

[quilleth]

31, 34? :D

31 Talk about one of your favorite headcanons for a ship you love.  Hmm, this is hard!!  Weelll….I guess I was a supporter of the dominant Solas trash club… So there’s that xDHawke feeding Anders.  Because someone needs to take care of the apostate healer birb! Also Hakwe showering Anders with kittens and/ or getting Pounce back.  Because I’m forever salty Pounce isn’t in DA2.

My headcanons for 7kpp are mostly of the unrequited pining that’s not actually unrequited variety for Jasper/ MC and the idea that Hamin/ Elisabeth are ~that~ obnoxious PDA couple and are constantly hanging all over each other in some way shape or form, especially after week 5 (Elisabeth is a very physically affectionate person so she hugs pretty much everyone she’s friends with, will spontaneously grab people’s hands if excited, and has a tendency to just kind of lean on her romantic partners whenever they’re sitting…she probably makes it very hard to actually get any work done, draping herself over their shoulder to both snuggle and be nosy).

34. Share your favorite fanmix for your OTP.Hmm, ok I haven’t listened to any for Hermione and Ron.  This is one of my favorite Anders/ Hawke mixes.  Surprisingly, I didn’t find many Labyrinth ones on 8tracks, so there aren’t any coming up in my list of liked mixes, and I can’t find them in my listening history now either.(and because I’m shameless and they’re my current otp, my Jasper & Elisabeth mix ;) If you search the 7kpp tag on 8tracks though, they’re all good (yes I’ve listened to them all.  No I have no shame over that fact xD.  Although sorry if that throws off your listening numbers to whoever made them because i totally listened to some several times while at work) so for any 7kpp ship, i recommend doing that!

Thank you for asking!! I had to really think about that first one!

[aquacure]

all of them

all of the character design questions? my god thank you i owe you my life

under a cut because THIS IS A DOOZY

1. Who’s the oldest character of yours that you still use?

O’Malley, for sure. I’ve had him for many, many years. About 8 years or more, if I’m remembering correctly. He’s my favorite.

2. Who’s the oldest character of yours, defunct or not?

Athena Sakamoto. She started off as my self insert oc back in 5th grade, and I used her a lot, even after she evolved from being a self insert. She didn’t evolve that much, though…. In design, she definitely did. I lived out my hair color fantasies in her… (She started out with purple hair w/ a green streak, then black hair with a purple streak, then black hair with a brown streak. Now, it’d be back to purple, except like. a lavender purple.)

3. Has creating a character ever made you realize something about yourself?

Definitely! Plenty of times! An example I remember; with the creation of Tau (and fleshing out Athena’s character outside of being me) it made me realize I had no other Asian ocs besides them, and kind of made me more aware of white dominance in media and how it was starting to affect me. 

4. Any minor characters that have either taken over or branched off into their own stories?

Ivan, for sure. I made him a while ago, but he’s got a surprisingly sad backstory, which my characters didn’t seem to really have then. Quick rundown: He used to be an assassin, he had a wife and kid, wife got painfully sick and died, daughter is now estranged, he’s now alone and too afraid to approach his child and also afraid to take someone else’s life. wah waaahh. i should mention him more.

5. Do you prefer to make human, animal, monster, or _____ characters? Why?

I like making human characters! I used to make all kinds of funky demons and angels and whatnot (i still do, but to a lesser degree), but human characters can have a really interesting depth to them, just with backstory and personality. it’s like creating someone that could be out there right now, who has their own interests and life, experiencing life. that’s kind of cool to me!

6. When creating a character, do you come up with the visual concept or the written concept first?

most of the time, it’s visual! I like to build a personality out of their design, it’s rarely the other way around unless i’m really inspired to make a certain character.

7. Do you have characters that you know you’ll never use, but can’t bear to get rid of/recycle?

Of course… Ma’atie, Isaac, Kelpie… the list can go on and on

8. Is there a character that embodies your good traits, or traits you wish you had?

Athena, Tau, Nel. They’re all absurdly confident, Tau and Nel are fashionable, fat (nel moreso than tau), and love to smile. they’re free of insecurities about their physical appearance and just do whatever is comfortable or makes them feel pretty.

9. Is there a character that embodies your bad traits? Several characters? Which ones and what traits?

You have noooo idea. Teddy has my bpd, Craig has my anxiety, O’Malley has my old anger issues, yadda yadda… Though my anger does flare up again on rare occasions, but almost never outloud.

10. Is there a character that explores your interests or fetishes (orrrr is that just all of you characters)?

Interests? Yeah, all of my characters embody my interests! Ma’atie is Egyptian Religion, O’Malley is History and English, Tau is fashion, etc.

11. If you have characters that embody certain traits of yours—good or bad—has writing them changed how you view those traits? Has it affected you in any way?

Ok, spotlight time. Nel was deliberately made to make myself feel better about myself; she was made with large, flabby arms, a belly that sticks out, hairy legs, cellulite, a bunch of stuff I was so insecure about. But I’ve never drawn her upset at herself for being this way. I’ve always drawn her loving herself being who she is, embracing it, not caring about how she could be perceived. She just loved herself.

12.   Do you fantasize about being any of your characters, or are you more detached?

ye…. i wish i were tau, man, being in fashion sounds like so much fun. also being o’malley minus his booze problem and having two cats and one dog? and also being surrounded by children who love u, even if they’re like, really rebellious and weird? nice.

13. Do you create playlists for your characters?

YEEEE i made one for o’malley on 8tracks before it went to shite, if you’re willing to go there, here’s the link (btw if there’s a playlist maker/creator that’s like 8tracks that isn’t playmoss or spotify, hmu. making playlists is my goddamn jam)

14. When writing for specific characters, is there anything you have to do to get into the right mindset?

Music for the mood helps a lot, and writing down or drawing how they’d express themselves in different situations is a good way to go.

15. Which character is your guilty pleasure?

what do you mean…. guilty pleasure……. *sweats….* it’s anyone in glasses and every tall character that’s a sweetheart. which is most of them.

…the main guilty pleasure is o’malley for sure tho

16. Is there a character of yours who’s a real struggle to write/draw? Why do you think that is?

it’s hard to draw Kara and Ivan, because I draw them differently every single time. Ivan, I understand, because I don’t draw him nearly as often as I want to, and he’s got a more vague/indistinct design bc i haven’t fixed him up, but Kara? I know what to draw, but doing it makes something different all the time… siiigh

17. Which character is the easiest to draw/write?

O’Malley for both, because I just know him that well. Teddy with writing because he’s chaotic and selfish, pretty much. Tau is both bc he’s the nonbinary aunt i’ve always wanted to be. also i love his design. very cool.

18. Is there anything you really wish you could do, character-design-wise, that you feel is outside your current skillset? A concept that you wish you could pull off but are uncertain about?

i want to make more unearthly and horror-esque monsters that are symbolic, like Silent Hill monsters, but i’m.... no good at making monsters. I want to. but i’m not that cool or good at art yet. (also monster angels. i want to make monsterous angels)

19. What’s more important to you: visual design, unique personality, a trendy character aesthetic, etc? If you’re not sure, then what’s the first thing you usually nail down in a character?

i like a unique personality, then the unique aesthetic of that character. you can make a visually stunning character and have them be the most uninteresting and bland pile of crap that ever did walk by. so, that being said, a character built on nothing but tropes is generally a no go for me. give me reasons, give me something new, give me spins! i want something different!!

20. Do you ever plan to do anything (comic, animation, etc) with your characters? Or are you just happy to have them?

yes to both. some characters are definitely just there for me to love, like Nel, but people like O’Malley, Teddy, Kara, Craig, Tau... Those guys have a story ahead of them. Will it be in comic form or in a novel...? Who knows! Whichever one I like better in the end! But I need a while longer to establish who they are, their stories, and the conflict that’ll bring them together... or apart? whichever happens to happen.

#no face #Mail 2 U #LONG POST #BUT THIS WAS REALLY FUN TO DO!! #i love creating characters so much so this was an absolute dream to answer #thank you so so so much!!!!! many hugs and kisses for u anon!!!!! #oc talk #fav