#2 his hair would grow out and be kinda wavy

[srdonix]

Steve and modern day fashion

[yuamin]

ORORUN REDRAW GUIDE !

i think we’ve all seen the atrocity that is genshin’s unreleased character, ororun. the entirety of natlan is a mess really, but as a yoruba person myself i CANNOT keep quiet about ororun specifically.

outside yoruba mythology, in yoruba, ‘Olorun’ (the name ororun is based on, pronounced o-law-roon , with o pronounced as in orange and the ‘roon’ pronounced shortly, not dragged on at all) is actually the same word we often use to refer to God in Christianity. Christianity is the primary religion among us yorubas so honestly, i was kinda glad they misspelled his name. it would feel SO disrespectful referring to whatever that thing is with the same word we use to refer to God who we actually worship. religion aside, genshin’s depiction of Olorun (cultural god, not Christian one) is downright disgusting. i’d never paid too much attention to genshin and its poor representation, but now that my culture has fallen victim to it, i completely understand all the outrage.

edit: please note that while we use ‘Olorun’ to refer to the Christian God, Olorun is just a general word for ‘god’ itself ! for example if i say “God in heaven” and “god of thunder” we know i’m referring to two different beings, in yoruba it’s the kind of the same—the same word is used to refer to both the Christian and other gods, but we know it’s different, even though olorun can be capitalized regardless of what god we’re talking about (unlike english where the Christian God is capitalized and other gods aren’t) at the end of the day though, when we say “olorun” even without context, we are usually referring to the christian God !

1. PLEASE DO NOT DRAW HIM WITH ANIMAL EARS !

i’ve noticed that hoyoverse has this nasty habit of portraying every dark skinned character as wild or animal-esque. kaeya seems to be the only exception to this. even xinyan, though lacking any animal features, has this wild energy to her. some might call it a stretch, but i feel like her features are pretty feline in comparison to other liyue characters.

Olorun in our culture is the supreme god of the heavens. In my opinion, it is disrespectful to liken him to something akin to an animal. normally i wouldn’t even mind that much, but with how hoyo makes its few dark characters more and more like animals, i can’t help but feel weird about it. its really off putting.

2. HIS HAIR WOULD NOT BE CURLY !

majority of nigerians have 4C HAIR. not wavy hair or loose curls. some have 4B, but 4C is the usual here, that is, kinky or coily hair. Olorun is often portrayed as bald in traditional art, but trust me if he had hair his hair would resemble his people’s, not Tyla’s.

DREADLOCKS ARE A YES ! outside nigeria, locking hair is pretty common, but in nigeria a lot of people have locks naturally. our hair sometimes just grows out that way, no treatment no nothing. dreads are 100% an appropriate style, they look good asf too.

3. PLEASE USE CULTURAL FABRICS IN YOUR DESIGNS !

when i saw ororun’s outfit, i almost started crying. they couldn’t even bother to dress him up a little. they really dressed my brother in a scarf and cape and called it a day 😭 upon how fashionable we nigerians are know to be, hoyoverse still made it their mission to embarrass us stylistically. God knows my people have suffered man 😭

ankara is a traditional nigerian fabric that features bright colors and lots of patterned designs. see below:

here in 9ja, we love our ankara. it’s a big part of our fashion here and trust me it would look excellent in your designs. it’s perfectly fine to draw ororun in normal fabrics since he’s a deity and it’s not like ankara existed back then, but if you really want to represent nigeria, ankara is a must 🙏

i’m going to address another fashion piece because if you search up nigerian fashion you’ll see it a lot: beads.

these orange beads are igbo (another tribe here in nigeria) NOT yoruba. does this mean you can’t use it in olorun’s design ? no ! let me explain. tbh, here in nigeria there’s a bit of...tension between clans. it’s not that common, but older people are definitely a lot more tribalist. as a yoruba i love my igbo brothers and sisters, i truly believe they’re the most fashionable clan and i adore their festivities, they always go over the top. please, just look at them:

(only one image because of image caps, ugh)

anyway, we yorubas wear beads too. but the specific way the beads are worn around the head and in multiple layers round the neck is igbo, not yoruba. though i personally wouldn’t care too much if i saw olorun with igbo beads since all i want is for him to at least look nigerian, at the end of the day he is a yoruba deity. it might be disrespectful to dress the god of one clan as if he belongs to another, especially since there is so much historical ( and very slight but uncommon present ) day tension between both clans.

here’s a more yoruba outfit. sorry yall, it might be hard for you to distinguish if you’re not yoruba or igbo, but a lot of nigerians can tell the difference at a glance. ( actually nowadays, there is so much overlap between yoruba and igbo fashion, but there are many specific styles that may be associated with one tribe and not the other, for example how beads are worn in the above paragraph ) please do your research, he’s not only a nigerian god, but a yoruba one.

one more thing, because i know it will start discourse : skin tone.

nigerians have a very diverse range of skin tones. some of us are so pale, if not for our afrocentric features we could maybe pass for another race. however, ororun is yoruba.

light skinned nigerians are usually igbo. not to say that yorubas can’t be light skin, but here in nigeria if you saw a light skinned person, we’d automatically assume they were igbo. igbo people usually have lighter skin tones. majority of yorubas fall on the more milk to dark chocolate end of the skin tone spectrum. i’m saying this now because i know a lot of people are going to start arguments over ororun being redrawn as ‘too light’ or ‘too dark.’ i don’t really care about complexion, but i thought i’d help you all get your facts right.

that’s it ! if you read all this i’m super thankful. i don’t usually post about this kind of stuff but i honestly love my country and could go on about it for days. nigeria is such a beautiful place with a diverse range of cultures— from hausas to fulanis to so many more. natlan was supposed to be Africa’s time to shine, as well as latin americans, but hoyoverse said fuck you and your people. they did this to an extent with sumeru but natlan was done straight up dirty—not a single melanated character in sight, and the only one who does have melanin, iansan, looks so desaturated you might as well call her grey. i saw someone on tiktok call mualani a dark skinned character—it was at that point that i knew genshin was done for.

please REBLOG this post so it reaches more people and artists in the fandom !! this is literally the third time i’m making this post because tumblr refuses to show it in the tags for some reason 😭 i encourage other cultures who feel misrepresented to make posts like this too. it’s a perfect opportunity to educate and inform people about the diverse cultures genshin has once again failed to represent properly.

Hoyo has never been one to make customer satisfaction their top priority, but we’ve been able to call them out before and i truly believe we can do it again. Natlan is not poor design choice. it is blatant racism, a nation based on POC ethnicities with not a single colored character insight. Hoyoverse has been able to escape racism accusations for as long as i can remember, but natlan is the icing on the cake. we CANNOT allow hoyo to proceed as planned without giving them the appropriate backlash.

Also, if you redraw ororun using this guide, make sure to tag me here or on my main blog, @heartkaji !! i’d love to see all your redesigns. once again, thank you all for reading and have an amazing day !!

[bizbat]

When They're In Love - Jason Todd - 2

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part three here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to @the-best-of-the-myrmidona for requesting more When They're In Love Headcanons for Jason Todd!

~ SFW ~

He likes to sit with his head between your legs, in any context.

He likes when you massage his scalp with your legs dangling over his broad shoulders.

He loves it when you wear his clothes.

His heart always stops for a moment when he sees you come out of the shower, drying your hair with a towel, dressed in one of his shirts that just barely reaches down to your thighs, and rises as you reach up to take care of your wet hair.

Loves seeing your thighs.

He gives real "victorian man seeing an ankle" energy.

He loves feeling you against him.

He needs to feel your skin or your body pressing against his or he will have a bad day.

I feel like he always smells good, even if he doesn't smell good, yk?

Like even when he comes home smelling like blood, smoke, and gasoline, his natural musk probably still stands out.

Always catches him off guard when you wanna hug him before he showers.

He can't help but laugh when you bury your face into his chest to inhale more of his scent.

He likes it when you play with his hair, but also likes to play in yours.

Straight, wavy, curly, coiled, long, short, shaved.

He don't care.

Lay on his chest and let him play with your hair, now!

I think he can cook, but that he doesn't know a lot of recipes. He reads a lot of cookbooks though, so he always wants to try something new with you.

I think he always wants to impress you, but he wants to be lowkey abt it.

First time you come over his place, he scrubs every single square inch till it sparkles, but he'll throw a shirt over the couch, or leave out a plate, or something, so he can be all "Sorry about the mess, haha".

Like a loser smh.

I think he'd ask Alfred for a recipe that will be impressive, but not too hard or complicated.

I didn't include it in the last set of hcs, but im putting it here.

Jason would absolutely want to rescue a pet with you, I'm thinking either a massive black dog, or an old cat that has no teeth and has outlived three owners.

Something that needs love and hasn't been given it.

But, I also think he'd put it off bc he wants to be able to give it his full attention.

If he found the right ball of fur and teeth though, I think he might be compelled to take it home with him.

He loves to take naps. Especially with you.

I think it's his way of being vulnerable.

He'd let you touch his scars.

I don't think they'd be sensitive physically, but maybe they'd be sore reminders of his lack of a normal life.

That's why it's so special that he lets you of all people touch them.

~ NSFW ~

Loves loves loves kisses.

Let Me explain.

When he's got you on your back, your eyes glazed over and completely unfocused, his favorite thing to do is lean down, squeeze your cheeks until your lips pucker, and give you lots of sloppy kisses.

He doesn't mind all the drool, in fact, it kinda adds to it.

He'll wipe away the tears sliding down your cheeks with his thumb, before popping it into your mouth, letting you suck it off, before slipping his tongue between your lips so he can taste your sweat tears too.

He's so condensing too. :(

Mean, mean man.

Calls you names, likes to smack, spits.

I think he likes to display his strength, probably holds you up as he thrusts into you, no matter your weight.

I keep writing abt him and he's starting to grow on me smh.😒

Okay that's all for now! <3

[lifeofmarvvel]

Some Facts and Headcanons about the Blythe kids' appearances

Including how tall I think they are in relation to each other and who they look the most like

Jem

We know that Jem has Anne's red hair but Gilbert's curls as well as his eye color (hazel). He's said to be tall, have Anne's nose, Gilbert's mouth (and probably smile), and "the only one of the family who had ears nice enough to please Susan" (RV)

Pretty much, he's a good mix of Anne and Gilbert

The AoGG wikia also kinda roasts him by adding "Although not as handsome as his brother, Walter, or his best friend, Jerry, Jem grew up to be a good-looking young man" (rip lol, why'd they go with 2 comparisons on his looks in one sentence)

He's also decently tall, though it doesn't specify any comparisons in how tall. I'd say probably a solid 5'10 or 11.

Walter

He's considered the "handsomest of the Ingleside children" with straight black hair, and dark grey eyes.

Given that Anne also has grey eyes (though more green-gray, iirc), and the fact that he doesn't look like any known relative, I feel like there's a chance he looks like either one of Walter or Bertha's siblings (if they had any at any point) or one of their parents, his great-grandparents

As for height, I feel like he was always close in height to Jem growing up, only an inch or two shorter. They end up being roughly the same height by the time they stop growing

Nan

We find out exactly who Nan looks like in the series! During Anne of Ingleside, we find out she looks just like her Grandma Blythe. Consequently, she looks a lot like Gilbert, too -- the most of the daughters to look like him, in fact

She has straight brown hair and brown eyes. Her hair is considered silky, too. Anne appreciates the fact that at least Nan can wear pink out of her daughters

As for height, she's taller than Rilla, but still pretty short. Like, Rilla is barely shorter than her. It's a tough victory but she's not the shortest so  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Di

Anne's mini-me! Di has her red hair and green eyes. Her hair is said to have a "swirl to it" so I'm assuming that means she got Gil's curls as well (or at least some waves).

Since she looks so much like Anne, we can likely assume she's also pretty freckled

I like to think she's the tallest of the daughters. Like 5'8 or so, not too much shorter than Jem. While growing up, she was always taller than Nan but not too much -- Nan just stopped growing first

Shirley

Ah, Susan's "little brown boy" aka brown hair, brown eyes, and a darker skin tone than the Blythe kids who got Anne's Very White skin tone. He looks the most like Nan out of his siblings, and is the son that looks the most like Gilbert (just a slight difference in eye color)

We got nothing on his hair texture but I tend to picture him with curly hair too, probably just because of that "pretty close to Gilbert's mini-me" thing I've concluded

Little siblings have a bad habit of being rude and ending up taller than their older siblings. (I say this as an oldest child who has a younger sister that's a good few inches taller than me.) Because of that, I like to think that Shirley ends up the tallest of the Blythe kids. Idk how much taller than Gilbert that would make him, if at all, but he'd be pretty tall, definitely at least 6'2

Rilla

Rilla is a good mix between Gilbert and Anne, just in a different combo than Jem. She has Gilbert's hazel eyes, Anne's freckles, and "ripely, ruddily brown" which is probably exactly what Anne wanted her hair to be when she was younger. So, pretty much, she started auburn/red-haired and turned more brunette as she got older. The red is probably most visible in the summer sun

There also isn't anything about her hair texture, either. I'd say it's either wavy or the type of straight hair that actually does hold heated curls and hairdos better than others

Rilla is the baby and, unfortunately for her, I picture her as the shortest of the family. She's like an inch shorter than Nan. All growing up she probably said stuff like "I'll be taller than both of you!" to the twins and then. it just never happened. Sorry, girl

Fun Facts (aka all this but reworded exclusively)

Jem is the only son with Anne's hair color; he's the only son with Gilbert's eye color

Walter is the only kid with the grey-side of Anne's eyes. He has the darkest hair in the entire family

Nan is the only daughter with brown eyes

Di is the only one with the green-side of Anne's eyes, making her the one with the lightest eyes

Shirley is the only son with brown eyes

Rilla is the only daughter with Gilbert's eyes

None of the children inherited Walter Shirley's blue eyes (probably since the dark-eyed gene is so strong)

None of the children inherited Bertha's blonde hair

And Grandparent Look-Alikes

Jem and Di, because of their red hair, look most like Walter Shirley out of all of their grandparents. Di probably moreso than Jem

We only know John Blythe has brown hair, so it's also possible Nan looks like Grandma Blythe and Shirley looks like John with Gilbert either looking like John or a mix of his parents

Nan is the only grandkid confirmed to look exactly like a grandparent

Walter is an anomaly so who actually knows lol

--

Anyway, I don't really have a reason for posting this other than, hopefully, as a helpful guide to others and as a way for me to make sure my hcs for their appearances are written out so I don't mix up my thoughts in the future. Feel free to add any hc's you might have involving the Blythe kids and their appearances!

[illarian-rambling]

Wip Introduction: Master and Apprentice (placeholder title)

So I figured I'd do a proper intro since I've been talking about it so much recently. Master and Apprentice is a project I started sometime last year, but I was in the middle of finishing Honor's Outcasts book 3 at the same time, so it kinda got left in the dust. I'm not sure how far I'll go with it now, however, I'm willing to give the ole college try!

The What: MandA centers around two sets of masters and apprentices, predictably. Heshorian is a master alchemist with the goal of being able to transmute dirty water into clean water. At the beginning of the story, he takes in a young man named Bayl after he steals Heshorian's coat. The other titular master is Daila, a necromancer. Necromancy has been banned for a few years in her area, yet she practices anyways, helping townsfolk with bandit raids and working towards her own goal of true resurrection. She also has an apprentice; a siren refugee named Pherrin, who arrived on the surface about a month ago. Daila is hunting someone with Pherrin's help, an alchemist she shares a bloody past with and who took something of hers long ago. How convenient that Heshorian is running from someone---a necromancer he once dearly loved. When the two master mages meet and powers collide, a terrible mistake occurs. It's left up to Pherrin and Bayl to navigate this new world of magic if they want to save their mentors.

The Where: MandA takes place in the province of Skolan, mostly around the mage city of Yewbury. Timeline wise, it happens between HO books 1 and 2, and 24 years earlier than MG. So the technology is roughly around Earth's golden age of piracy.

The Who: The story mainly switches between 4 POVs; Bayl, Heshorian, Pherrin, and Daila. Let's take a look at them!

Bayln Maersh: Born to an immigrant mother and an absent father in the city of Landanium, Bayl was orphaned when his mother died in a factory accident. He lived on the streets, stealing to survive, and generally being a punk. He joined five separate gangs, not telling them about the others, in order to move through the city freely. He's a bit of a shithead, fights dirty, trusts no one, and has a mouth on him that'd make a sailor blush. Despite this, he's deeply curious about magic and has a soft spot for animals.

Height-5'7"

Weight-155lbs

Hair-blond, wavy, and very pretty

Skin-whiteboy tan

Eyes-dark brown

Gender-cis man

Age-18 or 19

Sexuality: bi

Heshorian Ciarathyiys Greenbow: Bayl’s master's path to alchemy was an unremarkable one. He was born to a merchant nobility family on the Nabafyrian border, and is one-quarter Nabafyrian elf himself. He attended the Yewbury College of the Arcane when he decided to leave the family business to his sister. There, he would meet his first and truest love, Daila. The pair would travel together for a while until their falling out. Now, Heshorian spends his time working on transmutitive alchemy. He's a talkative man, very sociable, and well mannered, or even posh. Perhaps also a little naive, despite his well-traveled nature. He believes in helping people above all else.

Height-6'0"

Weight-210lbs

Hair-long and dark green, with a smartly trimmed beard

Skin-dusky brown

Eyes-leafy, elven green

Gender-cis man

Age-38

Sexuality-hetero

Pherrin Thasslenon: Being a normal siren girl, Pherrin grew up in Seluthena at the bottom of the ocean, ruled over by the absolute theocracy of the Way of Lamsara Hedandros. She was happy growing up, tending to her garden and playing in elthuryah (chess basically) tournaments, as well as working in her mother’s general store. All of this changed when the Silver Sovereign was assassinated while on campaign in the Araunian desert. Pherrin's father, an armorsmith for the siren army, was killed in a fire set in the warcamp after the assassination. Later, when riots swept Seluthena, her mother was killed while defending her shop. Pherrin fled to the surface, terrified and desperate for vengeance against the one who killed the Sovereign and caused her parents' deaths by extension---the infamous Burnsong Traitor, Sepo Kaiacynthus. Despite her grim purpose, Pherrin is slowly falling in love with the surface world, even though she tends towards nervousness. She believes that surface dwellers aren't sentient and only mimic the emotions of Illaros's true people, sirens.

Height-6'8"

Weight-190lbs

Hair-black, long, and straight

Skin-very pale

Eyes-onyx black

Gender-trans woman

Age-20

Sexuality-hetero

Daila Ray: Born in Bouerco, Sulu'Oku, Daila lived in poverty for most of her young life and worked from the age of 10. It was after a rune-rigged skeleton saved her mining crew from a collapsed tunnel that she decided she wanted to pursue necromancy. Daila saved up and eventually attended the Yewbury College of the Arcane at the age of twenty-two, quite old for a first year student. Even though necromancy has never been terribly 'en vogue,' she pursued her studies with vigor and graduated in an astonishing three years. While she was in school though, she met Heshorian. They fell in love and decided to travel the world, doing research and exploring. She loved him until disaster struck. Then all that love burned away into the purest hate. All she wants from his now is what he stole from her. Even though this drive consumes her, Daila is a down to earth, selfless woman, who took a chance on taking in a young siren refugee. She uses her necromancy to help people and to prove that it's not an evil art. She believes a mage's purpose is to protect the innocent and to condemn the wicked.

Height-5'4"

Weight-180lbs

Hair-short cornrows

Skin-dark brown

Eyes-brown and spectacled

Gender-cis woman

Age-40

Sexuality-bi

.

Anyways, hope this seems interesting! Idk how far I'll stick with it or how consistently, but here's for hoping!

Have a bitchin day <3

[paranormeow7]

Sooooo ive been wanting to Write smthn abt my oc Gavin and his backstory bc he makes me SO INSANE. This has been in the works for maybe like 2 weeks and ITS FINALLY DONE SO Without further ado, here’s this lmao (this is my first time tryin 2 do smthn like this, any critiques r very welcome!!)

CATSKIN

an oc story. by meeee :3

tw: parental abuse, detailed depictions of gore, disturbing imagery, death, animal harm, substance abuse, vomiting, possible dermatillomania trigger, religious trauma, etc

disclaimer!! Part of this story takes place in a fictionalized, static version of the 1950s-60s where racism/transphobia/etc don’t really exist/exist as they do now. Putting that there to clear up any confusion. I swear there’s a worldbuilding reason for this I’m not just doing it to get away with having a trans MC in a story set in the past i prommy-

word count: WHO KNOWS but its kinda long lol strap in

What would you do if you found out everything you thought about how the world worked was was wrong? Would you freak out and retreat back to your comfort zone? Or would you take it as an opportunity to escape, no matter how much pain it caused you?

A sunny April afternoon in a cookie-cutter American suburb. Rows of houses, some with trash cans kicked over, or dented/nonexistent mailboxes. Egg stains on the brightly colored vinyl siding. Lousy teenagers.

The house on the back end of Maple Street, in the sleepy old town of Lockroot, Who-The-Fuck-Cares America was a tiny yellow shack with a beat-up blue roof and dark stains running down the siding. Behind that wooden door with its chipped, blood-red paint, a calendar on the wall read April 14th, 1956.

The buzzing fluorescent kitchen lights shone down on an eleven year old child with wavy brown hair and sunken black eyes. It reminded him of divine light, but there was no god waiting for him that day. All the lights did was accentuate the frown painted across his pallid face. His mother sat across him at the table, looking livid, as per usual. She was always mad at something.

“Chie, do you appreciate all that I do for you?” He stared at the dusty white lucky cat on the shelf, its eyes vacantly staring into space, golden coin growing dull, a painted grin upon its wooden face.

Mocking him.

He always hated cats.

“Yes, Mother.”

She stared him down, her perfectly ironed poodle skirt and white blouse a betrayal of her anger. God, please just let me leave. Let this go fast today. “Are you sure, Chie? Because last I recall, attempting to go into the forest that I specifically told you not to visit wasn’t the way to show it.”

He suddenly became hyperaware of the dirt on his knees. The forest was on the edge of town, blocked off by a barbed wire fence. No one thought about it. It was like it didn’t exist.

“Do you want us to look like a family of ruffians with no self control? Do you want to disgrace our name? Does that sound like fun to you?”

The child shrank back in his cracked leather chair, suddenly finding a great degree of interest in his scuffed brown shoes. He’d gotten them for 3 dollars at a neighbors garage sale, the very same sale they’d gotten the chairs at.

“Rich of you, calling us a family since Father’s gone.”

The child knew he’d made a mistake the moment the words came out of him. He didn’t even know why he’d said anything to begin with. Me and my big mouth. However, what was said could not be taken back. He would just have to live with it.

The color immediately drained from his mother’s hollow, freckled cheeks. Her eyes narrowed into piercing blue slits. “What… did you… just… say to me…?”

Her son braced himself, making himself small, preparing for what he knew was soon to come.

“What did you just FUCKING say to me? You ungrateful little RAT?”

The cold, bony hand came at him like so many before, grabbing him by the hair, yanking him up. His scalp felt like it was on fire, his long brown hair coming out in chunks. pleasestopimsorryiloveyoumommy. After this, he’d chop it all off in front of the spiderweb cracks of his bathroom mirror.

“I do EVERYTHING for this family! I buy your food, your clothes, I send you to school, I brought you into this world!”

Thank you, Mother.

“What have you EVER done for me? NOTHING. ZIP. All you ever do is take from me. Youre just like your no good, mangy dog of a father.”

He thought back to the family portrait that had stood on the mantel of the house, until around 4 years ago, when his dear Father up and sped off in that shiny red Mustang convertible. God, how the child had loved that car.

Afterwards, Mother had taken all the photos of him and burned them in their backyard with the trash. He suspected she wanted him to forget what he looked like. Well, too bad, since in the bottom of his junk drawer, he’d saved the family photo, from their mantel. Aiko. His fathers name was Aiko Nakamura.

At seven, he failed to notice the wild look in his eyes, and how much he tended to glance at the fenced-off woods. But at eleven, it was all he could think of as he nursed his brand new shiner and stared at the cracks in his bedroom ceiling. He knew he’d seen a shape in the darkness that day. It almost looked like a matted, skeletal gray cat. Smiling at him. Just like the lucky cat in the kitchen.

Father got out. He knows the secrets of the woods. Of a life beyond this. Maybe one day I will too.

7 years later, the child, now called Gavin, opened his eyes to that very same ceiling, covered in posters for horror flicks, stolen from the newly opened theatre. No matter, he liked the old drive-in more anyways. His mother was always threatening to take them down and throw them out, but she knew that even if she tried, he’d always bring home more anyways. At any rate, she wasn’t home right now. He rolled out of bed, taking a moment to stare at the autumn leaves outside his window. Orange was always his favorite color, but he didn’t have a time to linger. The phone was ringing.

He wandered out to the living room, picking up the shiny red rotary telephone. “もしもし, Nakamura household.” His mother never answered the phone with this greeting, but his father had taught it to him as a child, and he liked it. “Gavin, babe! Hows tricks?” He could hear the smile on the other end. “Hi, Valley.” His face lit up along with hers. They had started dating almost a year ago. “That doesn’t answer my question, but its no matter, you can answer it in around 10 minutes from now!” He was puzzled, for a moment, but hearing sound of a key jangling in the background, he got it. “Val, you don’t have to. There’s barely any food in the fridge, hasn’t been full for weeks. You got your own posh little house to sit up in, don’t ya?” Gavin didn’t like Valley coming to his house. Its not like there was anything to do outside of watch their outdated cabinet television or throw his old baseball around, and Val was rich. He didn’t want her to feel like she owed him anything.

“Too late, doll! I brought snacks for the both of us, anyways. Catch ya later Gav!” “Val, wait just a-“ She blew a kiss into the receiver, and the call disconnected. Gavin rolled his eyes, hung up, and threw on his favorite brown bomber jacket. Val had always been so caring.

I don’t deserve her.

He didn’t have time to wallow, hearing the sound of a window opening. He ran up to his room and opened the door, right as Valley fell through the window, landing on her butt with a loud thump, along with a case of strawberry soda. My favorite… At the sight of the chubby, dark skinned girl in his bedroom, Gavin ran to help her up. “Ever the gentleman, ain’tcha?” She set down the basket she was holding and situated herself on the bed. Her matching red skirt and cardigan, and floor length locs that must’ve taken ages to style, were already gathering dust. Why’d she have to come here?

Gavin suddenly became aware of the mess in the room. Dirty clothes on the dresser, books stacked near the bed, and dozens of loose papers strewn across the floor, each adorned with sketches, paintings, collages, poems, anything his mind could conjure up when he couldn’t sleep. Blushing, he attempted to sweep them away, but not before Val took notice, and picked one up off the floor. “Your art is so lovely, Gavin. What’s this one?” Taking it from her and stashing it away, he responded “Nothing in particular, just couldn’t sleep. You know me, haha!!” He was bright red this point. Change the subject, will you, dear?

That she did. “Sooo, what are we gonna do for your birthday this weekend? You’re gonna be eighteen! Far out, huh?” Oh. Right. Eighteen. He didn’t know how to feel, if he was being honest. “I dunno, maybe we can go out and see a movie.” Val put her head on his shoulder and laughed. Gavin winced. The shoulder was bruised. However, thats what love was. Wasn’t it? “That’s what we always do!” Val chirped. “Ain’t much else in this town, is there?” Gavin quipped. But, if he was being honest, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

Gavin sat up and stared out his cracked bedroom window, past the pretty orange leaves, past the cheesy Halloween decorations, past the shops and diners and gas stations. All the way to the forest surrounding their little town.

Nobody thought much of it, which was true. Nobody that is, except the kids. While the adults were content to sit back and live their monotonous American dream, the children would whisper across the town, stories of what could possibly be on the other side of that barbed wire fence. “My cousin said there’s monsters out there. He says they have no skin, and they’ll cut you up and eat you bit by bit while you’re still alive. They start with your eyes.”

“My sister said that if you fall asleep out there, you’ll never wake up again and have horrible nightmares for the rest of your life. The spirits out there keep you asleep so they can eat your dreams.”

Run of the mill horror stories. But among the bolder, or perhaps the more beaten down, those with less to lose, the woods offered something else. A fortune beyond comprehension. Godlike power. Freedom. A new life, a new start. All sorts of wonders, waiting for those who knew where to look.

Maybe that’s what the adults were afraid of, because every once in a while, a new person would get this look in their eyes, like they knew a good secret. They would become more and more withdrawn, or excitable, or any suspicious change that could happen in a person. Then, after a little while, around a few days to a year, they would disappear. Sometimes it was a business trip, an inheritance, a need for a change of scenery. And sometimes they would just.

Vanish. Without a trace. They were there, and then they weren’t. Of course, they would send out search parties to comb the town for them, and reassure everyone who asked that they were doing the best they could. But of course, everybody knew. The seductive call of the woods was not to fall of deaf ears. After a while, their “MISSING PERSONS” posters were taken down and discarded, and they lived in the town only through the gossip of the children. Gavin had quite a collection of salvaged posters on his bedroom wall, hidden behind his dresser. His mother would blow a gasket, he thought.

When his mother wasn’t reading him the Bible, Gavin’s father used to tell him old Japanese folktales about fox spirits, yokai, kaibutsu. He recalled his stories of creatures known as Kaibyo when-

“Hey, spaceboy. Whatcha thinkin about?” Valley waved a hand in front of his face, bringing him back to reality.

“Nothing, doll. Absolutely nothing.”

Laughter. Then, a kiss. Warm hands caressing his cheeks, on his waist, through his short brown hair. It was 1963, the love decade was soon to kick off, there was a girl in his bed and the world was beautiful, if only for a little while.

At some point, Valley left, and Gavin picked up the piece of paper that she’d asked him about. Clinging to his tarnished silver first communion rosary, a chill ran down his spine, for no reason he could discern. On the paper was a sketch of an emaciated gray cat, with a wide, yellow toothed grin.

Two days until his birthday.

He fell asleep rather quickly that night, which was unusual for him, but it was a shallow sleep, dreaming of nothing but black water, fur, and two piercing, blue eyes.

CAUTION-CUIDADO-ATTENTION

あなた以外に神はいない

Waking up in a cold sweat, Gavin rolled over in his creaky bed. He looked over at his alarm clock. 2:18 AM.

for fucks sake.

Staring at his beat-up wooden desk and the piles of paper and pencils sitting at it, it occurred to him that he didn’t feel like drawing that night. It was a pretty night, with a lovely moon in the sky.

Some fresh air would do me good.

He’d fallen asleep in his clothes. Motor oil stained white T-shirt, frayed black pants, and of course, his brown leather bomber jacket. It had seen a lot in all the years he’d owned it. It had been patched twice, one on each elbow, in different colors. He wanted to paint something on the back, but he didn’t know what he wanted yet. He hadn’t thought about it.

Tiptoeing as not to wake his catatonic mother, who was sleeping on the couch in front of the TV, Gavin almost stepped on a shard of broken glass.

Beer bottles.

The living room floor was carpeted in them, in sparkling amber and green, casting moonlight all over the room, in the multifaceted reflections of the tired faces residing within it.

Beautiful… so beautiful…

He’d never drank alcohol before. He knew a lot of kids at his school who would. Theyd throw big parties at their parents houses while they were away, cut into Daddy’s brandy, and go rampaging around the neighborhood, TPing trees, streaking through the park, smashing windshields, all kinds of juvenile delinquent shenanigans. It was always the worst on Halloween, which was coming up. It was October, the month of playground rumors, teenage pranksters, and a chill of anticipation in the air.

Gavin put down the bottle, grabbed a bolt cutter and walked outside.

A cold wind immediately blew into his face, making him shiver and sneeze. A shower of damp orange leaves fluttered into his hair. As he plucked one out, he glanced toward his favorite thing he’d ever owned, his escape from all of his troubles.

A shiny motorcycle sat in the driveway, waiting. He’d rescued it from the scrapyard a few years prior and had it painted red, just like his father’s old car. His mother was always telling him to scrap it.

“Lets go, old girl.” Revving the engine, stepping on the gas, and taking flight. Wind in his hair, leaves in his face, he drove, and for a little while, he forgot all of his troubles. He passed by each and every cookie-cutter house, with their perfectly trimmed lawns, covered in tacky Halloween decorations. Bright, glowing jack-o-lanterns. Wispy plastic spiderwebs. Cartoon witches and ghosts.

Snarling black cats with brightly colored eyes.

Blue eyes.

Gavin looked away and kept driving all the way up until he reached his destination.

The edge of town, and the entrance to the forest, the sign-covered fence surrounding it, like a dare.

CAUTION-CUIDADO-ATTENTION

It had an eerie air about it. While the trees in town were decorated in all the fiery reds, oranges, and yellows of fall, the trees of the woods were all painted in the strange shades of evergreen leaves. They seemed to fade from green to what looked like blue the further you looked. The bark was white, like birch wood, but with an odd, almost pearlescent sheen if you looked too hard. And were those… eyes…

Hello.

Jerking him out from his troubled thoughts, was a voice, from behind. Human. What else would it be, silly? He turned around and almost fell backwards at the sight of a silhouette of a woman, we standing over him. “SHIT!!” he declared. A giggle in response. Oh…

“Hi, Valley…” Gavin exhaled. It hadn’t occurred to him that he was holding his breath at all. She took his hand and squeezed it. He smiled. Her hands were warm. “Why do you look so afraid? Did you think you were the only kid who came out here?”

His heartbeat slowed. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she wants to go with me. Maybe we can see whats on the other side together.

He glanced at his motorcycle, at the bolt cutters, and began to speak.

“Remember when I told you i didn’t know what I wanted to do for my birthday?” A puzzled expression danced across Valley’s face. Exhale. “Val, how would you like to see whats on the other side with me? We can get away from all this. Together. Just like we wanted, right?” His eyes shined in anticipation.

Valley’s expression changed to a warm smile. She leaned towards him and kissed him. Her lips were soft and she tasted like the strawberry soda she brought him the day before.

His heart fluttered. His face got warm. Was this happening?

She pulled away.

His hands felt so cold all of a sudden.

“Oh, Gavin, doll. You know theres nothing out there, right?”

“what…?”

“There just isn’t. All the folks that go out there just die. Everybody knows. Please don’t tell me you believe all the stories the kids tell. I love you and I support you, but I can’t agree with you on this.

Don’t you remember what happened to your father?”

The mention of his father made his blood run cold. Sure, he left him and his mom to fend for themselves, leaving them poor and hungry, but whatever was on the other side of that fence had to be worth it, right? He wouldn’t have done all this for nothing, right?

He can’t be dead. He’s out there somewhere. He has to be.

He hadn’t noticed that that familiar haunted look had passed over his own face, the way Valley had. He felt a strong, warm hand gripping his sleeve.

“Gavin, please. I know you want to find out what happened to your dad, but I’m really worried about you. I’ve been trying to support you no matter what, and I know you’ve been going through a lot, but I can’t let you go in there-“

“let go of me.”

“w-what…?”

“please, I-“

“Gavin, you’re scaring me. Please come back with me, I love you-“

“I SAID LET GO.”

Gavin pulled away with such ferocity that Valley fell backwards against his motorcycle, toppling it over. Breathing hard, he turned back towards his girlfriend. The look in her eyes was indescribable. There was so much hurt, so much fear, so much worry for him.

He couldn’t handle it. He had to run. Gavin knew he probably should have just turned back and ran home, but he just couldn't deal with the anger of his mother, the worry of his girlfriend, and everyone, all of Lockroot watching, knowing. Seeing the look in his dark brown eyes.

There goes another one.

He dropped his bolt cutters and clambered over the fence, ignoring the barbed wire digging into his hands and the warm blood gushing down his cold wrists. Ignoring the sobs and begs of his girlfriend. Ignoring them as they stopped completely. Getting to the top of the fence, he threw himself over, no hesitation. Landing hard on his side, a shot of pain burst through his hip, causing him to let out a moan. It didn’t matter. He just needed to get away. Gavin got up with a pained grunt and took off, deep into the mouth of the dark, cavernous woods, not daring to look back.

As he ran, searing pain throbbed in his side and the deep gashes in his hands left an obvious trail of blood behind him. Gavin’s injuries were getting harder to ignore, threatening to throw him back into the rotten leaves and worm infested dirt. He had to keep going. He didn’t know what he was running from or where he was trying to get. He just knew he didn’t want to fall. He was afraid that if he did, he’d pass out, never wake up, and rot alone out there in these God forsaken woods, his lean, sallow body slowly falling to pieces and filling with maggots, beetles and flies. Picking at his soft flesh. Eating him, bit by little bit.

The air had grown moist, tepid and suffocating. Gavin started to gasp and heave for breath. Wasn’t it October? The eyes on the tree bark were growing sharper and darker. Scrutinising him.

Stop looking at me.

He couldn’t fall. He couldn’t surrender. There were whispers in his ears, so faint that he didn’t know if he was really hearing them. The voice was indescribable, neither male nor female, young or old, but filled with desire, desire for something beyond what it had. Something it shouldn’t be allowed.

lie down here with me, will you? you’re a handsome one. why don’t you stay a while…

He felt paws all over him, grasping at his thighs and his stomach, pulling at his hair. It felt familiar.

keepgoingkeepgoingdontstopyoucantquitnow

In the end, his undoing was a regular old, run of the mill, medium sized gray rock. The kind you’d find in your backyard. His foot hit the stone hard and he went down, right on his bad hip. Crack. He lay on the ground for a few minutes, not even mustering up the energy to scream. The only thing that came out of his dry, cracked lips was a soft, pathetic moan, followed by a choked-back sob. What had he been thinking? Valley was right, there was nothing out here, and now he was lost and all alone. His girlfriend was gone, his mom was gone, and now he was going to die out in these horrible woods just like his father.

Blood gushing from his hands and tears flowing from his eyes, Gavin slowly sat up and tried to brush the dirt off of his soiled leather jacket. At that moment, he noticed a horrible smell.

Like a garbage dump. Like rotting meat. Like death.

The stench was overpowering. It assaulted his sinuses and made him gag. Gavin swayed, doubled over and vomited what little was in his stomach. The smell of it mixed with the nauseating air, threatening to make him throw up again, when all of a sudden, a shadow fell over the forest.

Gavin looked up, and his eyes met with a monster.

ねこまた nekomata

It was hard to discern in the pitch dark woods, but it must have been around 15-20 feet tall. The space around it rippled with what looked like dark, matted fur, two impossibly long, mangy tails danced behind it, and its drooling, slavering mouth held rotten, yellow teeth the size of small trees. A deafening buzzing noise could be heard near and around the monster, with Gavin realizing that this demon was shielded in a dark, undulating cloud of flies.

The worst part was it’s eyes.

Two soulless, pitch black holes, deep as an abandoned well, with two piercing pricks of bright, nuclear blue in their centers. The creatures gaze was blank, filled with nothing but hunger. Staring at Gavin like a bloody slab of steak. Like a tiny mouse in a trap.

It began to move towards him, calmly, and ever so casual. Gavin couldn’t cry out. All he could do was sit, stunned, in a rancid puddle of his own vomit. This can’t be real. God wouldn’t let this happen. At that moment, he realized that he had lost his rosary. The monster drew closer, until it’s head was just inches away from Gavin’s, it’s breath blowing into his face. He noticed large chunks of rotting flesh festering between it’s teeth, being fed on and burrowed into by the army of insects surrounding the creature.

I guess that explains the smell…

Gavin was frozen. He wished he had a weapon, wished he could attack the thing waiting in front of him. He wished he could move, so maybe he could try to escape. But instead, he was still as a stone, unable to do anything. How many times have you been in this position?

Gavin tried to brace himself for his death as the monsters mouth began to open. He waited to feel claws to rival his monster movies on his body, cracking his bones in half. He waited to feel teeth ripping his skin away from his muscles. He waited for the feeling of bodily fluids mixing and flowing and filling his lungs and his eyes and smothering him.

It never came. Maybe it would’ve been better than what followed.

Instead of devouring Gavin and leaving his bones for a stray dog to chew on, the monsters eyes rolled back into its head, and it’s face began to split down the middle. A viscous black liquid gushed out of the seams.

It almost looked like motor oil.

Gavin almost gagged as the creatures face slowly tore apart and peeled away, revealing a shiny white skull filled to the brim with millipedes. The oil-like substance dripped onto his clothes, further staining them, the black mixing with the red and green of the blood and vomit. One of the millipedes crawled out of the monsters gaping mouth and fell onto Gavin’s arm. He watched in horror as the insect burrowed into the gash on his hand. He could see it moving under his skin. He could feel it’s little legs poking at his muscles.

あなた以外に神はいない

do you understand?

Gavin promptly blacked out.

The next morning, at the end of Maple Street, the sun shone through the small yellow house’s windows. The birds were singing, and the paper boy was making his rounds as if nothing had happened, nothing at all. The calendar read October 16th, 1963. A certain young man’s 18th birthday.

Gavin woke up, at home, in his own bed, with his mind full of fog and the worst headache you can imagine. It felt like a jackhammer was being drilled into his brain.

Was it all… a horrible dream?

His jacket and t-shirt were lying on the floor next to his bed, but his jeans were still on. I need to stop sleeping in my clothes.

His side hurt. His hands hurt. It's nothing. I probably just fell, maybe cut myself on one of Mother's beer bottles...

As he rolled out of bed to get a shirt on, he noticed his drawings, rather than being scattered across the floor, were stacked up next to his desk. Looking through them, he saw they were all of shadowy, grey cats.

"Ugh..." He wondered if he'd been drinking, and that was why his head hurt so bad. Never mind that he didn't drink. That was his mother's habit. It's just that there was no other way to explain what had happened the night before.

Speaking of which...

"Gavin. Get down here. We need to talk."

A "Happy Birthday" would've been nice.

Ambling down the stairs, Gavin braced himself. Did she find out where he'd been, somehow? That would mean he'd actually ended up going, and the events of last night had actually played out. He wasn't ready to accept that truth.

His mother met his face, standing in the middle of their glass covered living room floor, which no one bothered to clean up. Her auburn hair looked like it hadn't been combed in weeks and her green sweater was covered in stains. She looked like she hadn't slept a day in her life.

"The sherrif found your motorcycle down by the outskirts of town, and your little girlfriend wouldn't say anything, but she seemed pretty damn shaken. Is there anything you'd like to say for yourself?"

no... it was a nightmare... nothing more...

"I don't know what you're talking about."

under his skin, something moved.

"Oh, i think you do. For eighteen years now, i've fed you, clothed you, provided for you and the ONLY THING i've asked in return is for you to STAY AWAY FROM THE WOODS. This is how you thank me? For EVERYTHING IVE EVER DONE FOR YOU?"

The woman was livid, blue eyes burning with rage, face locked in a snarl. She grabbed Gavin by the hair and pulled his face up close by hers. There was a distinct stench of alcohol on her breath. He'd heard this song before, many times over.

"You were looking for your father, weren't you."

He felt something running down his scalp. Blood? Something more viscous, perhaps? Motor oil?

Your father is dead. Maybe the "evil spirits" in those awful stories he told you did him in. At any rate, it doesn't matter anymore. Go into the woods if you want, because you're not welcome in my house anymore. If you want to be like your father, then be like him. Leave. Don't ever come back."

"Mama-"

"JUST GO!" The woman threw her son backwards, landing hard with a sickening CRUNCH into the floor's coating of broken glass and booze bottles. His mother's sorrow would find yet another way to hurt him, he thought, as he felt the shards dig into his back. This was it. Gavin would need to find someplace else to go. Wincing as he got up, blood rushing down his back, he limped back upstairs, grabbed his jacket and was just about to leave before he noticed several full beer bottles from her mom's stash. Nothing left to lose...

His mom couldn’t punish him for anything anymore. It was oddly freeing. He took a couple bottles and stowed them away. With everything he needed stored in his bag, there was one more place he figured he could try. If it didn't work, he would have to find someplace else.

Valley had spent the entire day up until that point talking to the police. They wouldn't get anything out of her, she didn't even know what had happened herself. Besides, everyone in town knew that these investigations were for show anyways. No one ever came out of the woods, and after a while, everyone forgot. Valley would have to as well.

At that moment, lying on her blue silk sheets, the doorbell rang.

"Listen Officer, i already told you i haven't got anything for you-"

Her eyes met not with a blue clad member of the force, but with a ghost. If possible, Gavin looked even worse than he did the night before, when she watched him jump the forbidden fence like a man possessed, seemingly sealing his fate. His clothes were covered in bloodstains, some looking old, some looking new. Valley couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"H-how? You’re not... no one is supposed to... I saw..."

"Hey again, Val."

How could he just show up on her doorstep like nothing happened at all? This wasn't how these cases were supposed to go. The posters would stay up for a while until they got taken down, and no one would ever talk about the missing person again. Maybe it was messed up, but that’s how it had always been.

"Gavin, i can't believe you're..."

"Alive? Yeah... i'm having some trouble believing that too."

Valley rubbed her temple and sighed. It was obvious she was very stressed. And why shouldn't she be? Her boyfriend of almost a year had seemingly gotten himself killed right in front of her, she'd spent the entire day talking to the cops about the incident, and now he'd showed up on her doorstep out of nowhere? Maybe it'd have been better if he hadn't come back at all. Maybe he should've just stayed gone. All he ever did was hurt others anyway...

Valley looked up, finally. "Okay, what do you-" Nothing. He'd already gone. It was like he hadn't even been there to begin with.

I’m such an idiot.

Val walked back upstairs to her room, flopped down onto her expensive silk sheets and screamed into her pillow. “That fucking ASSHOLE! How could he be so casual about this? I thought he died!! And now he leaves me all over again, with no explanation??” Valley was tired. This wasn’t the first stupid thing Gavin had pulled, and now he was crossing into genuinely dangerous territory. “That’s it. I’m done. I don’t need to worry about him anymore. Let him go back into that forest. See if I care.”

She decided it would be best to try to go to sleep, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

“You wouldn’t actually go back there… would you?”

Meanwhile, Gavin knew he needed to find his motorcycle. It could have either been taken by the police, or it was still out there by the woods. Somehow he doubted the cops had touched it. There was probably yellow tape around it or something. He didn't want to go back to the forest, but somehow, some way, he knew he had to.

His hand itched, and there was still something squirming beneath his skin. It felt like it was trying to get out. To go back into the forest, and take him with it.

Was he marked?

At that moment, Gavin remembered the bottles he’d taken from his house, if he could call it that anymore.

Maybe it could help me get my courage back.

He took one swig, then another. The first drink was awful. It tasted like hatred and burned his throat, but he kept forcing it down, because he was desperate to feel SOMETHING. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea…

He kept going anyways.

After a while, it started to get better. Or maybe this was what being drunk was like. Before he knew, he'd burned through nearly half of the bottles he'd stolen, and each sip sent fire down his throat, burning away his inhibitions. How did i never try this? How do people not do this every day? His head swam and his thoughts blurred, and all he knew was that he felt good, and that a new chapter of his life was about to begin.

Follow me.

A voice rang out from seemingly nowhere in particular, taking his hand, dragging him along for the ride. Whatever was under his skin felt like it was trying to tear it’s way out and lead him to the woods. Maybe he was marked. Marked for this journey.

Follow. I know what you’re looking for. I can take you there. You’re going to see something beautiful…

And what else could he do? The alcohol in his system was preventing him from thinking straight anyways. Gavin felt himself almost being pulled forward by some external, seemingly invisible force. He felt fur all around him. It was almost nice. Comfortable. He could hear disjointed voices, seeming far away.

“Hey, isn’t that…” “It can’t be. He should be dead...” “They never come back.” “Is he okay?”

Pay them no mind… we’ll be here soon.

Two glowing blue pinpricks. Jack o lanterns outside of cookie cutter houses. Follow the lights. This is your destiny.

Destiny?

Gavin had never thought of destiny before. When he found his motorcycle, that felt like destiny. When he started dating Valley, that felt like destiny.

I guess none of that matters now.

Everything itched.

Suddenly, he was back by the fence, in the outskirts of town. Didn’t it usually take longer to get here, especially by foot?

There was a hole in the fence, seemingly cut out just for him. Did I do that? And right in front of it, there it was.

His motorcycle. It hadn’t been moved since the night before.

There was a path slicing through the forest. He didn’t remember that from the last time he was there.

The bike was fueled up and ready for him. Gavin knew what had to be done. Whether or not this was real or an alcohol induced haze didn’t matter to him. Getting on the bike and finding out what was on the other side of those woods was all that mattered.

Any horrible monsters or demons be damned.

He revved up the motorcycle and back through the woods he went, and with his inhibitions drowned out of his body, Gavin could finally see how pretty it was out there. The almost supernatural blues and greens of the tree leaves complimenting the pearlescent bark. He could see the shadows of impossibly large creatures rustling behind the trees. This time, the atmosphere of the woods felt less like a warning and more like a new beginning. But sometimes, new beginnings can be just as terrifying.

He didn’t see the cat until he’d already hit it. He’d been swerving through the path, and had come pretty close to a crash several times over, just barely missing any stray trees or rocks. However, his drunken reflexes weren’t going to be enough to save him for long.

A jingling bell. Glowing, fearful blue eyes on gray fur. A animals shriek. A thud, a splat, and a swerve. Too late. The damage had been done, and both the bike and the boy were thrown aside by something that seemed far larger than a roadkill cat. Something that threw them a long way before they landed, and they landed hard on what seemed like pavement. why would there be pavement way out here in this forest?

Gavin skid across the ground, feeling something pop out of his face theysaidmyeyesweresobeautiful, well, what was left of his face, as he felt his skin scraping off the side of his body pleasemommyitburnsitburns, and as he felt the shattering of bones upon impact that’smorethanjustmyhipisn’tit and the broken glass shards embedding in his flesh feelslikehome, it all came to him. It came to him as he realized his bike was pinning him to the ground, as he felt his limbs bend the wrong way, as blood and piss and oil flowed from seemingly every opening on his body.

I guess this is it. I’m dying.

I didn’t even get to see what was on the other side.

Was there even anything on the other side?

Was this what happened to Father?

I can feel the glass in my back.

All I am is glass. I want to go home.

I want to see Mother. God, maybe, if I’m lucky. Something tells me if I’m not lucky.

招き猫 maneki-neko

All I am is glass.

The last things Gavin heard as the black washed over him were a pained, stilted meow, a blood gurgle (my first victim’s? my own?), and the skittering of something crawling out of the cavity where his eye used to be.

all for nothing…

all for...

Fur. Fur, all around him. Again. He was beginning to get sick of this feeling. Or was it becoming comfortable? He didn’t know. The feeling reminded him of his mother’s old habits. Not like he had any time to dwell on her, because the moment he opened his remaining eye, he was met with a massive feline skull, seemingly coming out of and from the darkness around him, with two blue pinpricks for eyes.

Welcome, old friend.

I know your voice. Who are you?

That doesn’t matter. You want to get out of here, don’t you?

Yes. I never got to see… I never got to see what was…

I can do that for you. I can bring you back. I can get you out.

How?

A massive paw with claws like butcher knives materialized in front of him. What was the saying? Don’t deal with the devil?

Was this even the devil? Or was this something else entirely?

Take my hand. Your transformation will come with pain and hardship, but it will help the both of us. I promise.

Gavin didn’t want this to be for nothing. He didn’t want to go back into the darkness. He really didn’t.

You don’t have to. You can always just stay where you are. Forever.

His journey, his pain, his losses, his discoveries. He wanted to know where it all would lead.

What is your final decision, old friend?

He needed to know.

He put out his hand, hesitated for a moment, and then forcefully connected it with the gargantuan paw splayed out before him. No going back now.

So it shall be. Thank you, Gavin.

The gray fur melted around him and gathered into his hand. It began to spread and grow from there, covering each inch of his body. His arms, his legs, his torso, his face. It blinded him, and as he lost his senses one by one, he felt it flow into the cavernous empty eye socket left by his recklessness.

Curiosity killed the cat.

But satisfaction brought it back.

After hours, or days, I can’t tell anymore, Gavin woke up changed, someplace else. Everything hurt. He felt like every part of his body was bleeding. His injuries might have healed by some supernatural force, but it sure didn’t feel that way.

He opened his eye and the first thing that struck him was that instead of a forest, he was met with a sprawling junkyard, filled to the brim with piles of garbage as tall as buildings, against a stark red sky. An all manner of dilapidated mechanical gadgets. People’s weeks-old trash. Horrible smelling organic matter that Gavin didn’t want to look at or even think about. Salvage heaven? He couldn’t tell, but it felt like everything anyone had every thrown away ended up here.

Have I been thrown away, too?

Gavin attempted to get his bearings and try and survey his new surroundings, but every move he made felt like a thousand knives as hot as the sun were being inserted into his flesh. He knew he had to do SOMETHING, though.

I need to see what happened to my body. I need to see the results of this “transformation.”

There was a reflective pool of a familiar black, viscous liquid seemingly a few feet away from him, his estimate as his depth perception had all but disappeared. Maybe that would work. Abandoning all dignity he might’ve still kept at this point, he put his death-razed arms out in front of him and dragged himself to his goal.

Is this what I’ve come to? Is this the culmination of all my 18 years of life? I never even saw my senior prom.

Gavin would see something else, however. Mustering up all his strength, he made it to the metallic puddle and attempted to stand. A thousand sickening cracking noises resonated out of his body, as if he was 81 rather than 18. The pain was so unbearable he almost puked his literal guts out into the looking glass puddle he’d just worked so hard to reach.

However, what he saw in it made him hurt in a different way. He didn’t know whether or not it was worse than the pain of all the injuries he’d agreed to endure. Whatever I just struck a pact with must not have been powerful enough to get rid of any pain I might be feeling, even if I’m now able to live through it.

Before him was a face he didn’t recognize, a face he might’ve expected from the horror movies he used to sneak out to see. His skin appeared ash white, like all of his blood had drained from his body. The skin he had left, anyways, as the right side of his body, the side he’d landed on after the accident, had barely any at all. He’d never really thought of what human muscles looked like underneath skin, but now was as good a time as ever to find out. If he could even still be classified as “human”. His teeth were an odd red color and had seemingly all been replaced by canine incisors, giving him a terribly offputting grin on top of everything else concerning his new appearance that might scare a person off.

His jacket sleeve was completely torn away, his black pants ripped to shreds, and his hair had turned that same familiar shade of gray, with no trace of the brown his loved ones had run their fingers through. His remaining eye was glassy and pale, with a jaundiced yellow look to it, and the cavity where his other eye used to be was so badly shredded that some of the bone could be seen. His eyelid seemed to have suffered the same fate, leaving the gaping hole in his head open for all to stare at and wonder about. His limbs had grown bushy, tangled gray fur, and at his fingertips were retractable, cat-like claws.

The most noticeable new features, however, were marked by new weight at his back and on the sides of his head. Two large, alien looking, cat-like ears had grown over Gavin’s old human ears, with lumps in places were imperfections seem to have occurred. His right ear was deformed and stunted, seemingly due to the damage he had suffered in that area. It gave him the look of a stray cat that lost the tip of it’s ear in some kind of turf war. And at his lower back danced two long, ratty, almost mangy gray tails. They seemed somewhat non-Euclidean, appearing longer and shorter depending on where you looked at them, and adorning them were two concerning markings that looked a bit like teeth.

As the boy stared into his reflection, the heavy realization settled over him like a wet cotton blanket. The old Gavin, the one that had listened to his fathers folktales and eaten at the local diner and gotten into fights at school and drawn on his arms and snuck his girlfriend into movies, was dead. He had died in an accident in the forest like so many others before him, and his replacement was this ungodly chimaera-like creature.

For the first time since he was in elementary school, Gavin knelt to the ground, threw his gaze to the red, smog-filled sky, and let himself cry. Heaving, painful sobs. The culmination of all of his life’s mistakes. No one would be there to see him, anyways.

Who’s going to love me, looking like this?

Will God forgive me for becoming something so unholy?

Was any of this even worth it?

A familiar voice rang out inside his head. Something told him that this was where it lived now.

You’re not ungodly, my disciple. In fact, you are far from it. You came back from the dead, something many saints couldn’t accomplish. There’s something divine in that, is there not?

Is that who you are? Are you God?

Laughter. And with that, the voice in his head, in his heart, went dormant.

Gavin strained and threw up a little, but managed to get up. Looking around the endless expanse of the junkyard, he noticed something, standing out from the rest of the wreckage.

A cherry-red Mustang convertible, smeared with long-dried blood. Laying next to it, a page out of fairly recent looking calendar, with the date reading April 14th, 2163.

Suddenly, the junkyard didn’t seem so endless anymore. Gavin could see what looked like a cityscape in the distance. Mustering up all the strength he could, he began to walk.

I guess this is my new beginning.

For a brief moment, the spirit’s voice came back into his head.

あなた以外に神はいない

There is no god but you.

A young girl tacks a missing persons poster to a telephone pole. What have you seen? What have you found?

Would she ever find out? Who else did?

the end LMAO ✌🏻 I hope you liked this I worked my ass off on it. If you didn’t that’s okay!! I’m not sure if I like it, either!! But at least it’s done. YIPPEE. Now go drink some water.

[jediknightjameslunagazer23]

"Respectfully speaking, Dr. Chase, While I do appreciate being your student... could you and Ms. Sears perhaps, oh, I don't know, lay off with the kid treatment for once!? I'm 19, ya know! Which practically makes me an adult!"

"Sorry, kid! But after Adel, you're practically the little brother of our family in Caduceus, so the universe has practically decreed that I'd be the demon of messing with you! Besides, surely I can't be THAT bad, right?

"... Oh, suuuuuure, when you're not being a mega moron trying to play matchmaker with me and Ms. Ross or Dr. Stiles and Nurse Thompson, that is!"

"My, My! For someone so quiet most of the time, you really can be a sassy little monster! Who knows, you might be even more of a demon than me someday, my young apprentice!"

"Humph! The day that will happen is when I decide to grow a carpet on my chin like yours!" (NOT.)

So yeah, that's James and Tyler's mentor and student relationship in a nutshell. Don't get me wrong, he and Dr. Chase are very close, but sometimes the Demon Doctor's antics can often test his patience and thus bring out the sassy nature within!

And yes, James does have a second nickname after Lunagazer, being Little Monster due to his once hyperactive nature during his childhood, which Kira being the mischievous little sister she is, blabbed about it to Tyler and Leslie when James told her about it, much to his dismay.

Also decided to give James' design some changes, that being his scrubs are now more muted in colour, reflecting his emotional state, and he has his necklace for his Soothing Choir powers like Derek for his Healing Touch but he choses instead to tuck it under his shirt for reasons, and his hair is tweaked again.

I even decided to give Tyler's UTK bear pin to James instead of the blue one I gave him for the Operation start animation I did, as I'd like to imagine Tyler would give it to him after he becomes his student in the Caduceus Training Program as an intern, sorta to show he's part of the family as Tyler puts it, and you know it acts as a metaphor for the old generation passing the torch onto the new.

As for Tyler and why he looks different, well, I kinda chose to do a headcanon of "What he could have looked like 3 years later in UTK 2, if Atlus didn't decide to only update Derek and Angie's looks."

Tyler mostly keeps the same personality and design as inspired by Aileen's manga, except for the fact his hair is a bit more wavy as well as noticeable differences being he now has a goatee and stubble, as I'd like to think he did that to play up his demon personality, (And not just because he thinks it looks handsome or anything!)

He also gets a new bear pin influenced by his Second Opinion design. Since Tyler's old bear pin started to wear out and feel out of fashion for him, I'd like to think the new one he has was a birthday gift his little sister Amy gave to him as a thank you for being a good doctor, and so when he wears it, he feels as if Amy is always there for him in spirit.

And that's mostly it. I might decide to eventually do some stories revolving around these two when I get to it or feel confident in doing so one day and when I've got it figured out, as Tyler will be important as James' guide during UTK 2 from his and Adel's points of view, but that's for another day.

[clinicsharmartia]

I just finished having a long conversation with my friend about this but I’m 10000% convinced that Sergio Ramos has naturally curly/wavy hair but has never explored it before. Here’s an extensive list as to why:

1. Whenever his hair is wet, either with water or sweat or some other liquid, you can clearly see that his hair goes from pin straight to wavy. This might not seem like much, but for people who have ‘secret’ wavy/curly hair one of the only times it’s shown is when it’s wet. This is probably bc it’s being relaxed and brought back to its natural form with science or smth (I literally did Bio A-Levels 🤦‍♀️ anyways) but its basically the only time the pattern is able to be shown. Throughout the day things that stress your hair such as heat, brushing it, weather, hairstyles or other products can really fuck up the curl pattern, but once you relax it and wash everything out its essentially in it’s natural state.

2. The actual products he uses. It’s quite obvious that over the years, Ramos’ hair has gone through a lot of changes. Bleaching and other chemical hair dyes, hair gel, hair spray, and being continually stressed by being pulled back into a ponytail or bun are all ways you can fuck up your hair, and, mess with your hair’s texture. It’s a very well known fact that bleaching your hair is the worst thing you can do it to, only being equalised with relaxing and perms, and, well, Ramos hasn’t exactly been good in the sense of keeping his hair virgin pure (aka not dying it). He’s done it about three times in his career, which is surprisingly only 20 years long, so that’s estimated one bleach cycle every 6 years, which is not enough time for your hair to fully heal. That mixed with products mixed with constant heat means his hair is really, really damaged. Meaning his hair texture is also damaged.

3. Hair length. Even though his long hair is famous, for a lot of his career and childhood Ramos has had short hair. It's no secret that having short hair means less work, but that also goes for terms of showering and styling. You don't need to shower as often be it's less noticeable if your hair is greasy, and if you have short hair you don't really need to style it, you can just kinda wake up and flip it or brush it a bit and you're golden. Bc of this, short hair doesn't really give you the option to explore your hair texture. It doesn't give you enough opportunities (god this sounds so stupid for you to try out new things because why try out a new hair product when you don't actually need it. With the way his hair is now, it's shaved on the sides but still a bit long, but he's able to slick it back easily with gel. Gel = harmful hair product that harms your hair pattern, short hair = easy to style and ignore. Boom, two birds with one stone. Also he’s shaved his head a couple of times which should be obvious as to why his hair texture won’t show.

3 1/2. If you look at his hair when it’s short with no product (aka PSG days on his insta) you’ll see that his hair is very fluffed up. From experience and from what I’ve seen, ppl who brush their short curly/wavy hair will make it very fluffed up and frizzy. Not exactly like what his pictures show, but very similar, which makes me further believe that his hairstyle is also prohibiting him from unlocking this style.

4. Exposure. He's never really been exposed to people with wavy or curly hair, so he's never been told what he's doing wrong. Almost every person he's played with have straight hair, and any other player is black with coily hair, a completely different texture. No one would be able to recognise that what he's doing is wrong, meaning no one would be able to question the products he's using and if it's right for him. From what l've seen his family all have straight hair, and with siblings he's most likely had to share hair products growing up, including shampoos/conditioners. If you don't know your hair texture and you use the wrong products, your body is basically going to force your hair to adapt to the texture of the product you're using. That's why things like "curly hair products" exist, because it's made only for people with curly hair, anyone else it would probably mess with their hair or make it greasy or frizzy. Same thing goes for curly/wavy hair: if you use products made for straight hair it's going to basically "train" your hair into "acting" like straight hair. And like I said, with no one to tell you otherwise, you're going to continue to use the wrong products, meaning your hair will always act like it's straight.

5. I’ve literally had the exact same thing happen to me and all the points are taken from my life and experiences. Long story short, not a lot of people in my family have curly or even wavy hair. Thick hair, yes. Textured hair, no. And because of that I always assumed that it was the same for me, that I had thick but straight hair, so I’ve always treated my hair like straight hair. Until when I turned 16 and I got taken to this very fancy bougie hair salon and the lady there scrubbed my scalp within an inch of my life with fancy hair products I’ve never used before, and when I came back to the mirror my hair basically fluffed and bounced up into lovely little waves. And I asked what she did to my hair and she said she just washed it, and that’s when I realised that for my entire life I have had wavy hair but haven’t even been treating it right so I’ve never been able to see it until now. He is literally me but he hasn’t discovered it yet. Pilar get to work!!!!

6. All his children have curly/wavy hair, and unless Pilar has been wearing a wig this entire time to hide her magical curls, that hair texture has got to come from somewhere. Like literally look up his kids and look at their hair texture and you’ll see what I mean. Especially Alejandro, he has super curly ends.

7. Extra point. When talking to my friend she pointed out that taking away my short hair theory, he's always had straight hair as a child, with absolutely no sign of anything curly. To that I say hormones and puberty! It's a very simple fact that during puberty your hair can change texture, and that's because of hormones. Just like how if you get pregnant you can get curly hair, or if you go through chemo you can develop curly hair. It's all hormones, and that's probably what he went through, further proving my point that he doesn't know what he's doing with his hair. Going from straight hair to wavy/curly is very abrupt and he probably noticed it but didn't know how to deal with it, especially back then when the internet wasn't around so you couldn't look up what to do with curly hair or what products are best. So he continues using straight hair products and keeps on damaging his hair.

In conclusion, Sergio Ramos has curly/wavy hair.

[angrennufuin]

Ranking meme: 1. Worst kissers, 2. Best Dancers, 3. Best... hair? O:

Three!!!! I'm gonna answer these in different posts and just link back.

Best Hair

An excuse for me, Mirkwood Angrennufuin, to talk about hair?? Ohoho. >:3

Aysel - I latched on to a blog post about Lhazaareen pirates being very proud of their hair and extrapolated wildly! So Aysel has midback-length black hair (she shaved it when she was young and mourning, but it has grown back) that she keeps meticulously trimmed, oiled, and otherwise cared for. Nobody else on this list spends even a fraction of the effort on hair health that she does, or has as elaborate and specific a hairstyle. I haven't worked out what all her braids mean, but they definitely mean something -- I like the idea of Aysel braiding prayers or good-luck charms into her hair every morning. I'll put Alis's design notes on her hairstyle at the bottom of this post, but the idea was to give an impression of wild, free-flowing hair that nonetheless is kept out of her face in high winds.

Sûl is an elf and therefore has great hair by default, but doesn't get to be top of the list because she in no way places as much importance on her hair as Aysel does. She has wavy, light brown hair that she mostly wears up or half-up; it's prone to frizz in humidity and a little damaged from her periods of illness. She likes her hair well enough, but has no qualms cutting or dying it as needed. Privately thinks she could rock the bald look but Would Prefer Not To.

Linmir has very silky, very smooth, very straight hair that WAS a beautiful silver-grey and has now turned moon-white, and she doesn't do much to it. (Half-)elf privilege strikes again! When she was younger, she wore it loose (slicked back with camellia oil whenever her aunt could grab her for long enough), and then started wearing it in a high ponytail and dying the ends maroon at the suggestion of her ex. She kept it like that until she got a Dramatic Haircut just before the final battle; a dramatic use of her paladin powers had turned her hair white (with a single gold streak), and she bobbed it.

Rosenrot has long pre-Raphaelite curls in dark brown that she does a moderate amount of maintenance on but largely just keeps in two big braids. It was a great trial to her as a kid, because it's a lot of hair to keep track of for a little girl, and she would sometimes cry while trying to get it untangled. Even now, she usually wheedles Bene or his mom Philomena into doing her braids for her. I don't think she's ever cut it, and I don't think it would occur to her to do so. She loves having it played with.

Silence's hair is bobbed because it's the Fantasy 1920s, but also because when she was ten she got chewing gum stuck in it and it had to get chopped. Her mom's declaration was that she can grow her hair out again when she can prove herself responsible enough to care for it, but Silence kinda likes it short. It only takes ten minutes to brush! It's also lavender and thick but almost pin-straight; she's got major my little pony vibes.

Nee has very wild blonde curls that she has NOT been caring for or maintaining properly lately. She was okay at them in Wizard Grad School, but she's been living rough while on the adventure. And magic makes them do strange and arcane things, so she's largely just clipped them back and given up.

Hongyan has lovely hair (black, hip-length, tiny bit of wave) that he almost certainly has not brushed for the... Month? Two months? Ish? That he's been human. He has been bathed but mostly with like, bar soap. It's a mess. He preens it occasionally but he doesn't understand how hair works, really.

Asa is most frequently perceived as an amorphous blob of wild green curls, which they absent-mindedly tie trinkets and treasures and plants into whenever they feel like it. It's great hair! I love it! It is not, by most people's standards, a candidate for Best Hair.

Aysel hair design:

Asa's mushroomy head:

Next two asks:

[Best Dancer]

[Worst Kisser]

[seasirengirl]

EVERYTHING YOU SEE IS A PART OF YOUR IMAGINATION, EVERYTHING YOU SEE IS A LIE.

pairing: jason grace x f!neptune!reader

warning: jason is kinda a bop in this, reader is referred to as a blonde

a/n: wrote this at 4am so it’s probably really stupid, but i was thinking of writing hcs for a part 2? idk would y’all read that?

growing up at camp jupiter meant being a soldier, a warrior with no life outside of their duties, a disciplined demigod with no mistakes ever made. this mindset messed up a lot of the kids’ mind, awarding them with different mental illnesses that they wouldn’t be experiencing if their lives were just, normal.

normal could mean a lot of things, but jason grace lost the touch of it a long time ago.

what was normal? being a mortal in high school or spending his everyday life in camp jupiter?

none of these options were available to him, because in the middle of his quest to save the queen of the heavens, he felt more confused than ever, his memories slowly coming back, but in little snippets, unnecessary things were being brought back to him, such as a certain scent that reminded him of… he didn’t remember who. he was surely going crazy.

and the blurred face of a girl he saw every time he ever got the chance to fall into hypnos’ domain certainly did not help the situation. maybe he did something so terrible in the past that he didn’t even get the chance of sleeping undisturbed, but what did he do? he didn’t even remember.

the question that bore into the mind of a mere reader would’ve been, 'what did he even remember?’ an oblivion, absolute nothingness.

and his two apparent friends, leo and piper.

while piper seemed to not be much of a friend, she still kept her patience.

jason, being the selfless soul he was, always managed to put everyone else before himself, he was worried that he was breaking piper’s heart by his amnesia, which, by the way, was not his fault either, but who else was there to blame? truthfully, no one.

while the quest was ongoing, he managed to get used to being apart of the trio, managing to fall more and more in love with the mystery that was piper mclean, or so he thought.

piper was absolutely gorgeous, in her own unique way, she was something to be looked at, to be admired and treated with care and love, but the world that they got exposed into, certainly was not up to the standard jason wanted piper to be put at.

she was also a total knockout, pretty, smart and really unique, what more could a guy want?

right?

then why did the ocean breeze randomly flow through his nostrils when jason was not anywhere near an ocean? what about the blonde soft wavy hair he always saw in his dreams, or the laugh he heard during one of those dreams. something about the girl in his dreams made jason’s life way more complicated, he could not get her out of his head, but how could he? it’s like the gods above truly did not want anything to be remotely normal in his life.

was it all just a set-up, was he cursed? or was he simply going insane over a woman he had never met? it had to end.

apparently the blonde from his dreams did not even exist, he described her to a lot of people, but not one person in camp half-blood knew anything, so he gave up.

the argo II had to be built and they had to fight mother earth, gaea, along with quite a lot of giants, girl problems could wait.

while keeping himself busy, he found his sweet escape to be piper, maybe what was between them was real, it wasn’t just venus having “fun” for a bit and making him insane? he still got dreams from time to time, but they didn’t corrupt his whole time.

but a few months passed, his and piper’s relationship was going well, they were just days away from going to camp jupiter, while going there to find the rest of the eight demigods from the great prophecy was the goal, maybe he could find her there?

and just like that, thoughts and dreams about the mysterious ocean girl slowly came back.

until the day they finally landed in camp jupiter. pieces of jason’s memory came back to him, but not all of it, but everything seemed to click the second he got the chance to actually look around the (not-so) familiar territory.

his hand intertwined with piper’s, he entered camp jupiter, he noticed annabeth running off to a black haired boy, who he assumed to be percy jackson, since that was the guy everyone seemed to be looking for ever since his arrival.

but right next to percy, stood a girl, but not just any pretty girl, her.

the girl from his imagination.

she quickly noticed jason, running over to him and pulling him into a hug, he noticed slight tears in her eyes that weren’t willing to spill.

jason was stunned, his hand was still holding piper’s, until it wasn’t, he felt it let go.

but jason had your arms around him, which felt better than anyone elses.

“i missed you, jase.” you said quietly, in a tone barely above a whisper.

“i-i’m sorry, i don’t remember.”

“percy told me it was a possibility, i just never thought you’d forget me, after all that we’ve been through. he remembered things about annabeth, did you really forget all about me?” a single stray tear managed to escape your eyes, raised in camp jupiter, crying was not something you were used to, but given the circumstances, what else were you supposed to do? sit around and smile like nothing happened, like you didn’t just realise that the love of your life forgot about you? “no, i’m sorry, it’s not your fault, i can’t blame that on you.” you quickly added, noticing how much pressure you put on the boy you loved.

“jason, what’s going on?” that was the voice of the girl jason came back with, sweet as honey. did he find a replacement? have you commited a sin so unforgivable that the gods had to punish you this way? he held her hand, they came in happily, you weren’t needed.

“i don’t know, look, let’s just go and find annabeth, she’ll know what to do.” jason simply shrugged away from your uncounter, living the girl of his dreams in tears, standing there, empty.

and it certainly did not help that jason and his newfound girlfriend were on the ship too, so you couldn’t really be miserable all the time.

you had to put in the effort.

that same night, as you were about to go to bed in your cabin, percy came in to check on you and you suddenly got the urge to tell him about all of your emotions and thoughts, since he was a great listener and also probably the only person who could cheer you up.

so you told him, if you couldn’t trust your brother, who could you trust? you told him some details he didn’t already know about your and jason’s complicated relationship and about him and his new girlfriend.

jason’s cabin was the one opposing yours, so he got a bit confused and almost opened the door to your cabin, but he heard your voice, and his name a few times too, so he did something absolutely irresistible, eavesdropping.

“it was complicated for so many years, and when we finally confessed, 3 months later he just disappeared one morning, i count every minute he was a way, and he came back with a new girlfriend, what did i do to venus so horrible? she gave me a hair comb once after a quest, she doesn’t like hate me or something, right? or does that mean my hair is really messy?” you kept on rambling.

“shh, i don’t know about jason, but if he’s willing to break your heart like that, i’m not gonna be okay with it, goodnight, y/n.” percy kissed your forehead.

“night, perce.”

just as percy walked out of the cabin, he saw jason standing by the door.

“hope you heard all that, buddy.” he mumbled.

if jason thought he was going insane months ago, he for sure knows he’s insane by now.

around a week has passed since that night, jason admired you from far away, getting reminded of why he fell in love with you all those years ago.

it was a quiet evening, some calm and peace, the typical calm before the storm vibes were around.

and it sure ended up being a storm that night for jason grace. he had been thinking about ending things with piper, since remembering things were making him all confused, all of the fake memories were faded too, so their relationship was hanging by a thread, which piper tore that night.

“we need to talk.” piper exclaimed, her tone sounded serious, not the usual cheery and soft.

“is everything okay?” jason asked, knowing that in fact nothing was okay, but he could only use a filler sentence, he didn’t have much of a heart to say anything else.

“what’s going on with you and y/n? i know you two dated, but i see the way you act around each other, you’re not over it, neither of you, and whatever this is going on with us is simply not satisfying neither me or you, so, are you cool with staying friends?” piper stated casually, without much worry on her face.

“i’m sorry pipes, it wasn’t fair to you.” jason tried apologising, but got interrupted.

“it’s fine, but she loves you, i can tell, go talk to her before it’s too late.” that was it, the awakening point, jason immediately stormed into her cabin.

“i fucked up, i’m really in love with you.” he exclaimed, and boy, did that sentence change everything.

it did.

[summergirl2408]

Ok so I am a little more than half way through with season 4 of tma and now for the first time am thinking about the headcanons for the characters my brain has made up over the course of me listening to the show without me even realising it

And just because here they are:

The Admiral

Funnily enough I think The Admiral might be the character I have the most elaborate headcanon(s) for

He 100% looks like this:

A chonky, lazy, always grumpy tabby cat with white on his face and chest

Georgie has trouble picking him up cause he is heavy af but he hates to be picked up anyways (he loves to lay on her lap tho and him being heavy makes her moving him if she has to get up extra challenging)

He absolutely hates people in general with Georgie being pretty much the only exception (everyone involved, including The Admiral himself, was very surprised he tolerated Jon while he lived with Georgie)

The people at the shelter Georgie got him from tried to warn her he would hate everyone including her but he just loved her, and only her, from day one

Jon

About 1,70m-1,75m tall

Scrawny little dude

Black kinda wavy hair (greying obviously cause that's canon) that is not kept at an exact length but whenever it starts reaching below his collar he will probably cut it

Rarely clean shaven, usually has some scruffy stubble

He wear glasses that look like this:

He prefers sweaters or at least long-sleeved shirts over t-shirts any day (you could probably only catch him in something short-sleeved on a handful of the hottest days each year)

The 'prefers sweaters over t-shirts'-thing might have something to do with him being scrawny and getting bullied for it growing up

Martin

Tall (1,85m-1,90m range) and built like a big teddy bear

He has short-ish light brown hair that always stands up in all directions

He wears classic nerd glasses

His wardrobe is like 85% graphic tees of stuff from the 80s and 90s

You would not need to push him far to get him to wear a stereotypical dad outfit

Tim

The tallest of the people in the institute (1,90m-1,95)

Definitely very athletic build

Kinda gives off a Clark Kent vibe (but no glasses)

Elias

1,80m tall on the dot

Despises that Martin is taller than him but somehow completely ok with Tim being taller than him

From how he dresses you would expect him to have exactly 2 tops: a navy blue sweater and a black turtleneck sweater (he actually has multiple of each)

You could never ever catch him wearing a shirt, even in the middle of summer he will wear one of his goddamn sweaters

Black hair that is always perfectly coiffed so it looks the exact same each day and is so shiny and moves so little that the others assume he uses about half a can of hairspray each day (they are probably right about it too)

Basira

black, long straight hair that is always pulled back into a low ponytail or bun (a habit left from her time with the police)

Just like her hair at any given point she gives off a very sleek and put together vibe in general (more often than not it is not accurate on the inside tho)

1,80.5m (she insists on the .5 cause she prides herself on being taller than Elias, Elias doesn't acknowledge it but he knows that they are actually the exact same height and she isn't .5cm taller than him)

Daisy

Exactly the same height as Jon

Dirty blond hair about the length of a long bob but always has it pulled back in a ponytail

Hates her given name and is really glad that most people only know her by Daisy

Melanie

The shortest of them all (about 1,55m) and hates it

Because of this and her quite confrontational and loud personality Jon jokingly thinks of her as a human miniture pinscher (he knows he would be dead if he ever said that out loud (he is right tho))

Georgie

red, long hair that is right in between being curly and being wavy

1,60m-1,65m

Always has her trusty leather messenger bag with her wherever she goes

Sweater jackets are her favourite piece of clothing

Has absolutely perfected an "are you fucking kidding me ?"-look

Breekon and Hope

They are the tma version of Tweedledee and Tweedledum (no I will not elaborate but I am right)

[rein-ette]

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

[bluskai]

fond adieu | p.p.

➤ pairing: peter parker x reader

➤ warnings: angst

➤ notes: so I finished rereading call me by your name and now I'm in pain. 

➤ more: masterlist | smut reblog blog

Her chest felt tight and her eyes seemed to gloss over with unshed tears, the weight of all the emotions she was feeling, held in those moments where it felt like time stood still.

There he stood. Young and fresh-faced as he was when he died in Tony’s arms 5 years ago. But here she was, no longer 16 and no longer his. A lot had happened in those 5 years. 

“Y/N?” And there it was that unsure boyish charm that always had an air of hesitation in it when he addressed her. 

“Hey, Peter.”

After Tony’s funeral, he asked if they could talk, noticing the stranger whose hands stayed on her waist the whole procession. 

So there they were, in this little cafe that Y/N had suggested, still clad in all black. 

“So... What’s his name?” Peter asked finally, breaking the silence that lingered between sips of black coffee and some frappuccino type thing that she hated. Well, she didn’t always hate it. She loved it once. But then the world turned to shit, and then the frappuccino was too sweet. 

“Henry.”

Then the silence lingered once again. 

“Look, Peter I- I don’t know what to say. Truly.” 

Rubbing her temples, she pursed her lips and sat back. Peter noticed how she had matured. Her hair was shorter, it was now a functional straight bob, no longer the carefree waist-length wavy locks that she struggled to keep in an up-do. 

She always swore she’d never cut her hair. 

Then there were the lines on her face where there were never lines, and how she seemed to be stressed, judging by her shaking knee and the fiddling of the napkin.

“I just want to know what happened. That’s all. I-I know a lot has changed, and I’m not asking to go back to the way things were. I just want- I want an explanation.” Peter rushed out in one breath, eyes cast downwards once he finished speaking.

“After you... After, I didn’t know what to do. I stuck with Nat, tried to do good. Help what was left of the world. But how could I? You were my world, Peter.”

At the mention of her mentor and mother figure, Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. 

“But then I went to help this non-profit, something to do with refugees and finding them homes. That’s where I met Henry, he was a journalist covering the story of how the Avengers were now saving the world but without violence.

He saved me from myself, Peter. He taught me how to love again, how to grow. Just before the time heist, I think maybe like a few months before? He asked Tony and Nat for some help, and he proposed. 3 years after we first met.

It was perfect, honestly. Tony was supposed to walk me down the aisle and Nat was supposed to be my maid of honour. I- I don’t know anymore. I’m lost again.”

She knew she was making it about her, which was selfish, but could you blame her? She just lost everything. 

Peter took in a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, red-rimmed eyes glassed over and just taking it all in. He ran his gaze over someone whom he would have said he knew best in the world, up until what was maybe 2 weeks ago for him. 

She was no longer the same person he knew, yet she was exactly the same. His head was hurting and his vision was spinning, feeling overwhelmed, Peter stood up and walked out of the cafe.

“Peter?”

She had run out after him, concerned eyes and furrowed brows.

Peter let out a humourless chuckle, “You know you almost look like you again when you say my name like that and look like you care.”

“Don’t- Don’t say that. Don’t be like that Peter. You’re lashing out cause you’re hurt, I get it. But don’t pretend like you don’t still care.”

“DON’T PSYCHOANALYSE ME!” Peter shouted all of a sudden, chest heaving and eyes ablaze. 

Y/N seemed taken aback. 

“I- I’m gonna go.”

And he let her. 

It was about another 3 weeks or so before he asked to see her again. Same cafe, same time. 

“Hey, you came.” Peter smiled tiredly, the sparkle in his eyes seem to have dulled a little.

Seeing him like that, Y/N felt bad and so she sat down with her black coffee and smiled. 

“Yeah, I did.”

They talked for hours. Seemingly about nothing and everything at the same time. Peter told her about school and what was new and what wasn’t. Y/N talked about work and answered all of Peter’s questions about Henry. It almost seemed like things could be alright again, after a very long time. But then Y/N let the other shoe drop. 

“I’m getting married, Petey. After... Well, after everything. We kinda... We don’t wanna wait. Ya know?” 

Peter did not look like he knew, but he nodded for her to go on. 

“I- I want you to be there, at my table. If that’s alright with you. I understand if you can’t but... You’re still family to me.” 

There was a suffocating silence that seemed to stretch for miles and mute their senses. 

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah, I- I‘d be honoured.” 

Y/N smiled one of the biggest smiles Peter had ever had the pleasure of witnessing, and he almost felt like it was worth the crack he felt in his heart and the silent ache in his chest. 

The day came sooner than Peter was ready for. 

Everyone was there, even some people he didn’t know. Clint was walking Y/N down the aisle, custom suit on and tears in his eyes. Wanda was her maid of honour, looking beautiful in a deep maroon dress that brought out the red in her hair. 

And Y/N...

Well, Peter thought she looked stunning. She was an absolute vision in white, her veil gave her an almost ethereal look and what looked like a halo above her head. 

He felt his chest cave in on itself, his heart splintering at its core. Here she was, his Y/N, about to marry someone else. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

Then the tears came, and they wouldn’t stop. So he ran out quietly, trying not to make a scene on the biggest day of his love’s life. 

So there he sat, on some random bench he found. Crying his heart out for his lost love, bidding her a fond adieu.

[pie-shenanigans]

How i headcannon every Magnus archives character's hair:

John : he growed his hair out in college, the moment his grandma didnt have a say on it any more. He has a dark rich brown colour with a few grey streaks with a brighter and more prominent one in the front. His hair i quite curly, he doesn't know how to do curly hair and brushes through it dry, so it is frizzy and messy (someone show him the curly girl method please). He usually keeps it in a low back ponytail to get out of the way but it still always does. Secretly jon really loves his hair, and it is the thing he likes the most about his appearance, but he wouldn't say that outloud to nobody. After the apocalypse while still in the safehouse he gives himself an absolute massacre of a haircut, cutting it very short with kitchen scissors, it was very uneven, he accidentally left some longer whispy spots and has some bald patches, Martin tried to help but he only made it worse. It was the first time in weeks either of them laughed.

Martin: has dark blond hair, he always kept it very short in a generic "mens cut" because he never really knew how to do it. He always goes to the closest and cheapest barber he finds. Maybe once or twice he had an idea of a haircut he wanted to try out, but was always to shy to ask for it. Sometime during s4 he stopped getting it cut and let it get kinda long for the first time ever. In s5 his hair gets to around his chin, he discovers that his hair is a bit wavy. His hair is very very soft, he enjoys twidiling with it when he's stressed. John likes Martin's hair like this, he says it frames his face nicely.

Sasha (the real one): she has pin straight shiny brown hair. It is quite long and goes down to her waist. She is painfully trying to grow out bangs she cut while drunk more than a year ago. She enjoys doing all kind of hairstyles and changes them up often. to work she usually puts it up in a bun or a half up- half down hairstyle.

Tim: he has one of those "floppy" haircuts when the sides and back are cropped short and the top is long. He definitely dyed it many different colours in the past, most noticeablly purple. When he landed a job at the institute Elias insisted he would dye it to his natural brown colour and he agrees but is still salty about it. His ends are still very damaged from years of bleach. In s 1-2 he used to take care of it very often, and went to the salon every month and a half to get it re-cut. In s3 he stops caring and lets it get long and messy, he starts wearing it in a bun to get it out of his way. It does not look very nice.

Melanie: her poor hair has not seen its natural colour in years. It has been dyed every colour and bleached way to many times. The thing is damaged beyond repair. When she joins the institute Elias asks her to dye it back to her natural colour, a mousey brown, but she dyes it an electric blue as a big "fuck you Elias". After she leaves the institute she decided to give it a rest and stopped dyeing it. It faded into an uneven green mess. She hasn't have time to redye it since the apocalypse, but Georgie promised her she well help her once they have time.

Georgie: she has very curly and bouncy hair styled into a bob around jaw length with a few face framing strands that maybe could pass as bangs. The ends of her hair are dyed a honey blond, and are the remaining evidence of a questionable dye job from years back, maybe when she was still with John. Her roots are a rich brown, almost black colour.

Basira: Basira is a higabi. For work she usually picks a simple dark (usually black) stretch-cotten scarf that she ties on her nape. She does also have a collection of nicer headscarfs that she wears for special occasions, many of them silk with beautiful patterns. she is also really good a tieing them in creative ways but no one from the archives staff or the police have seen her do that.

Daisy: she has a pin straight, dark blond lob, hitting exactly her collar bones. It is very well kept and always looks stern and tidy, even during a hunt. After the coffin she lets go of her pedantic maintenance routine and lets it grow a bit longer. Everyone, including Basira is shocked to learn that daisy's hair is naturally a warm Auburn that curls slightly. She starts growing her roots out and stops straightening it and began wearing it in a loose messy bun.

Elias: he has a sleek and professional haircut with salt and pepper stripes that look so perfect that they seem dyed. His hair is always in impeccable condition, with never a single hair out if place. Tim and Sasha suspect it's maybe a wig.

Note; i dont have specific race headcannons so i didnt specify any race- specific hairstyle. John, Georgie and Basira are left ambiguous on purpose.

[syubub]

SOULMATE READING- TAEHYUNG

First of all, sorry about the pic. Second is the disclaimer. This is a tarot reading meant for entertainment only. Thirdly, I decided to do each member as an individual post bc I think it's less hassle that way 💕

Okay

Okay. So. Wow.

I don't know where to start with Tae. His soulmate and him have the most ideal relationship. The cards for the relationship aspect is 100% soulmate vibes. I mean come on, the 2 of cups (soulmate card), 4 of wands (marriage) and the lovers all right next to eachother? Hot damn. They definitely travel together a lot and his Soul Bae might be a good entrepreneur? Idk but they are both financially set.

I think we should start with physical attributes first. I have a strong feeling that they will be naturally blonde or have blonde hair at the time they meet. The color yellow is also important (Taes energy is very yellowish gold to me. Coincidence?). I also get the sense that this is an old soul. May be older than Tae but definitely an old soul. A youthful face. Sort of fun yet intimidating look to them. They might have sharp features (specifically eyes which could be a grayish brown? Possibly even have heterochromia? Might have light freckles. Puts effort into the way they look but also just wakes up looking flawless. Might be from abroad. His soulmate might be very interested in France, have a very French aesthetic or lived in France. His soulmate is very much like him. Relatively tall? Modelish but unconventional, like kinda built, lanky, boxy. Strong legs. Wavy hair? Idk. A balance of masculine and feminine traits. The type to enjoy being fancy but also super down to play video games and can definitely out drink Tae. Definitely. Looks good in sweats lol.

onto how/where they'll meet. It might be when he is alone at a museum in France standing in front of a statue of Venus (It popped into my head and i couldn't not write it down) or perhaps when one party is traveling and they meet on a hike or in nature or something like that. Possibly even at a work function. As for when they meet. It is up to both parties to decide to come into union spiritually. If that makes sense? They both will be drawn to eachother when the time is right for them.

Onto this person's personality. Earthy influences. Romantic!!! Romantic. So romantic. Their love language is words of affirmation. This person is very chivalrous? Idk like this person is very gentlemanly? Like, they want to take care of tae and will open doors for him and stuff. Makes him chocolate covered strawberries. Also very intune to ~otherworldly~ things. Lowkey a psychic. Idk why but this person it like guided by Taes guides sometimes? Like, they'll just pop in. And like, when it's time for them to meet, Tae grandma will give him every fucking sign to be like, "THIS ONE!! THIS IS YOUR SOULMATE, KID!" (Also, topic for a different day but i have a mad feeling that Tae communicates with the dead, specifically his grandma, and that's why he trust/ relies on his "angels" so much.) I don't want to be insensitive or step on toes or anything but like Taes grandma probably communicates with Taes soulmate too? And like, I keep getting an image of Tae and his soulmate sharing dreams? Idk it's a lot. And I think I've said it before but Taes soulmate is... massive... like, energy wise. Theres almost like an archaic, out of this world feeling to this person and they have to be spiritual or imma shout. Like, this person. Is. Crazy. Idk what's up but it's almost like there's a wall? Like, I'm not privy to it because my small little fragile conciousness would shatter in its presence? Maybe a bit dramatic but there is a lot behind this person and their union with Tae. This person has been through a lot and might be closing an old chapter in their life when Tae comes in. This person might feel lost? Like, they have such massive energy but human life is stupid and confusing and they dont know how to channel energy into productivity? Might also fear abandonment and commitment so they have a hard time really connecting with people because they get attached easily and are afraid to lose them. An empath? Very creative and able to manifest pretty much anything. For archetype cards, I got: artist, shape-shifter, knight, messiah. Very very creative and can probably draw in experience from different levels of conciousness? Like this person is an artsy, spiritual Joan of Arc.

So. Cards about their situation are Soul Family and Inner Temple. Essentially they both need to awaken and call eachother in. They need to fully be themselves and just exist!

Cards to Tae from his Soul Bae: progress, not perfection, answered prayers, unconventionality, big bold vision, beyond the mind the heart beats, sacred fool.

Okay. His Soulmate is a funny one, I'll get to that soon, but also very genuine. Like this person wants to see him grow and Express full potential. Bae wants him to stop caring what others think and be weird! Theres stuff he doesn't talk about with other people (perhaps the fact that hes way more spiritually intune than most. Not by choice either though. He was born with this shit. He probably saw faeries as a kid and shit) Bae wants him to settle back and listen to his inner self and nurture what's already there. This is a line from the description of sacred fool, "Don't try to be appropriate, don't try to be socially acceptable and worry about what others may think about what you are doing-just be. If you want to wear a mad hat whilst doing so, fine." Bae wants him to have fun and do whatever the fuck he wants to do because Tae being happy is what's important. Like, if Tae went and bought a literal circus and was like, "this is my dream, its who I am" Bae would be like, "...are you sure?" And if he was sure, then his soulmate would double check everything, make sure hes safe and dive in head first with him. It's very supportive but also his soulmate is practical. Like, his soulmate wouldn't willingly let him do anything that would directly harm him or ruin his life, you know? This is his guardian angel. His love. His tried and true. One and only. It's ridiculous and they will have kids and a farm. Fight me on that.

I wanted to channel a message from his soulmate to him and I got a laugh, something about "our four leaf clover" "He needs a haircut" and, "Tell him he's dense but I'll love him forever in this life and the next. Forever."

Then I thought, well, Jimin is definitely Taes platonic soulmate so like Taes Bae and Chim have to get along and I got the cutest image of Tae, Taes Bae, Jimin and Jimins soulmate all sitting together in a garden drinking tea and laughing and all of their guides are watching them with smiles and the rest of Bangtan and their soulmates come into the garden with their soulmates and it's a cute Soul-party and now I'm super soft.

Theres so much to say about this soulmate union and really even just his soulmate because it's such a powerful energy and I think someday I want to do a part 2 for this because I have lots of questions. I feel like these two can have any sort of life together. Like they both hold the pen and are constantly writing and revising their life scripts. Also, I get the feeling that his soulmate is...hmm.. they give me the feeling that they might not exist? Like they do but at the same time they don't? Or maybe they're just like, deep. Like an onion. I'll put a pin in this for another time but it gives me a deep indigo type of feeling, you know? It's a whole thing. I'll do a part 2 for this.

Last comment. Taes Soul bae has great eyebrows? Idk why but that's a thing apparently.

TLDR

Tae has a fantastic soulmate who is impressively cool, they have the cutest life together and they are definitely going to live the cutest domestic life ever? Also, Tae probably wants to have 6 kids so each kid can have a designated Bangtan Godfather lol. Think artsy-museum-farmer-millionaires who have a house made of Gucci and matching rocking chairs.

Cute cute cute. Like I said, I'll expand on this later! Also, I apologize if it isn't very cohesive or doesn't make a lot of sense. I've been busy and my life is a little messy but I wanted to get this out!

Stay safe💜

[kazuwhora]

🎃 Leaving this emoji here so I know it's me

can I get a matchup?

I'm an INFP Gemini, 1.57m, and I use any pronouns, mostly they/them and she/her

I'm really pale and I wear glasses 24/7 bc without them I can only see things up to 10cm away from me.

my hair is wavy (the kind that if I don't style it correctly it will get straight but a frizzy kind of straight) and I keep changing it all the time.

I've had pink/blue hair, purple/blue, blonde ends, only pink, ginger for 2 years and now it's bright red. normally i like to let it grow and then cut it short, same with my bangs. so there's a lot of combinations here.

I love my hair and I take care of it obsessively, not only mine but my friend's too baji drop your hair care routine

what else... ?

you know that person that is in college but everyone assumes they're on middle school bc they look 13 and act like they're lost everyday everywhere like wth is going on? that's literally me everyone thinks I'm 13 I'm 19 people asked me if I'm a teacher's child too many times now it was getting annoying now being baby-faced is my personal joke

my body is??? hourglass shaped?? I guess?? I'm not thin enough to tell exactly

my back and shoulders are quite large bc I used to swim when I was little, now I take dance classes so all my body strength is in the lower part of my body ((bitch im thicc 😎😎

art I general is my hobbie, so dancing and singing and painting are my thing

I also used to take fighting classes when I was younger but my parents only took me for three months and then they stopped bc I would be wanting to fight god and the world

i still want to fight god and the world but now I don't have the tools to do so. how unfortunate.

I dress mostly in what makes me feel confortable? crop tops shorts and slippers every day. if not, hoodies and baggy pants. all black with rainbow socks.

about my personality I'm just-- idk?

bleh?

my whole childhood I was just the smart kid and now I'm not so I don't have a sense of personality.

my friends say that I have strong opinions and don't hold back

which is kinda true?

I do have a sense of justice and I will defend it until the end and somedays I will step up and defend them with words and physically if I have to.

but most of the time i just don't have a filter

most of the time my Inside Outs are staring into space like 😐 and just letting everything happen. so will say something like "Thats dumb. you can do better. I respect that you have a opinion. but I think your opinion is dumb" while having no expression in my face. I'll notice 3 seconds later how RUDE that was and start laughing bc omg that was mean.

other days I'm just a fleeing sunlight being excited about everything like a child would.

idk what else to say

my favorite avenger is natasha, I love genshin albedo my beloved rerun when, loona stan. lactose intolerant but I don't give a shit bc I love ice cream.

I feel like I talked so much but didn't say anything. cool. I'm awful at talking about myself but I tried.

bye 💜

ok so one of my best friends (probably my only friend ngl) is an infp and I feel like struggling with defining your personality is 100% an infp thing but u did a good job and ty for providing me with so much information!!!

im definitely matching you up with hanma idc if you love him or hate him this a ship I can get behind 👏🏻

first of all lets both take a moment to appreciate how fucking hot that man is like god fucking DAMN that first picture never fails to get me smfh

second of all. ur an infp. hanma is an entp. y'all have barely anything in common cognitively and its fucking AMAZING. I live for infp (and also intp for u intps there) and entp ships because the way that us entp's are in nature is completely opposite from an infp, while still sharing the perception function that allows both types to understand each other to some extent that just makes for a really fun match ok?? trust me on this.

he is obsessed with your individuality. as an extravert, not only does hanma benefit from your ability to access an introverted aspect that works to ease him from the burnout extraverts can face when they are unable to enable an introverted mindset every now and then, but he also learns to laugh both with you and at you- and genuinely. like you make him laugh. he thinks you're hilarious and as an entp who are typically known to be a little self obsessed, he didn't think it was possible to think anyone was hilarious except himself? he's like damn this girl is really like a kinder surprise.

he also really loves your art and finds that he's a little annoyed that he's not artistically inclined so he'll beg you to paint something for him and he wont stop until you do. just dont paint an ugly portrait of him on purpose or he's gonna get butthurt about it going on about how "damn is this how you see me?? </3 rip me I guess" and he wont shut up about it until you make it up to him and apologize for making a mean joke.

and then he just makes a joke towards you that's like 10x meaner and he WONT apologize for it. wallow in the revenge because its not going to end anytime soon.

lets be honest tho, when the two of you are together around others its a little overwhelming for people. hanma's entp-ness really brings out a side of you that leans on the extroverted side. you feed off his energy and the two of you are lowkey a little mean to people. but they deserve it, right? its their fault for being idiots. you enable each other hardcore here but its fine. they all know you're just being you and hanma is happy to have someone on his side.

you and hanma can fight god together btw <3 he's a little delulu