#also yes this is exactly where i learned to draw scarves the way i do

[dawnthefluffyduck]

This game is so pretty 🥹

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

[timehealsfanfictionbka]

Time Heals.....Chapter Forty-Six

“Robyn, what is that?” Chris asked as he started to undo his tie. Robyn furrowed her brow at him and Chris pointedly looked at something black peeking out of a shopping bag.

“Oh, that’s nothing.”

“It don’t look like nothing. Is it silk?”

“Chris, why are you all up in my stuff?” Robyn replied as she stuff the item deeper into the shopping bag.

“Technically, I’m not yet.”

Robyn chuckled, “I really set myself up for that one.”

“You did. How was dinner?”

“It was great. I loved that dessert.”

“Yea, it was really good.”

“So what’s next?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That’s not exactly an answer.”

“It’s the answer, I’m giving you. I’m going to take a shower, think about what you want to do and we’ll figure it out when I get back,” Chris replied as he grabbed some toiletry items out of his duffle bag then left into the bathroom. Robyn sat for a moment before an idea went off in her head. She rooted through a few of her shopping bags then started setting up the room.

  Chris frowned as he exited the bathroom, steam spilling out of the now open door, and smelled vanilla.

“What is this woman doing?” he murmured to himself as he rubbed a towel over his hair and walked further into the room. His brow furrowed seeing all their bags were put away but there was nothing set up that would smell like vanilla to him. He dropped the towel that was wrapped around his waist just as the bedroom door opened and Robyn walked in, “Babe, what are you doing?”

“What you mean, Chris?”

“The smell. All of our stuff being put away. You going to bed already?”

“Chris, the smell is because I took a shower, my body lotion is a bit stronger than I thought; why would you think I was going to bed?”

“The room.”

“Oh, I just didn’t see the point of having all that stuff everywhere. The mess was making my eye twitch.”

Chris shook his head, “you remember where you put my lotion?”

“I do but you won’t need it for right now.”

“And why is that?”

“Follow me.”

Chris bent to pick up his towel but Robyn grabbed his hand, “I said follow me, I said nothing about grabbing that towel. It’s just us here and I’ve already seen everything you got.”

Chris’s brow went up and Robyn laughed, “what are you up to?”

“Nothing freaky. I just wanted to show my appreciation in the tamest way I could think of. Come on.”

Chris followed behind her, his dick hanging heavily from his frame. She stopped beside a portable bed that would’ve used for additional sleeping arrangements, “lay down on your stomach.”

“What are you doing?’

“Giving you a massage, is that ok with you?”

“If I said no?”

“Then I’m going to bed.”

“Really?’

“What? You think I’d force this on you?”

“No but I also don’t think you give up that easily.”

“You’d be amazed, Christopher. Now lay down on your stomach.”

Chris moved hesitantly to the bed and lied down. Robyn grabbed a thin sheet and pulled up over him up to his hips, leaving his back bare. Fully clothed in cheer shorts and a bralette, Robyn straddled his hips. She chuckled when she felt Chris tense up, “did I not say it won’t be anything freaky? Relax.”

“I’m trying but you on my back is not helping my front.”

“We’ll get to that in a little bit, he can only get but so hard.”

“Oh, you’d be amazed, Robyn.”

“What? You want me to start on the front then?”

“If you don’t mind.”

Robyn sighed then climbed off his body, “turn over.”

Chris flipped over on to his back and Robyn’s eyes widened as his dick was standing straight up, “Damn, I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I joke about a lot of things, my dick is not one of them.”

Robyn laughed, “God, this just became one of the most un-sexiest moments ever.”

Chris laughed, “this wasn’t about sex, if I recall.”

“I never said that,” Robyn replied as she grabbed the oil and moved next to the bed, “I said it was tame and not freaky. Not the same thing.”

“Oh.”

“Right. I guess I’ll start at your head since there’s an obstacle in my way at your legs.”

“There’s room to work around him.”

Robyn rolled her eyes, “I bet you would say that. He needs to calm down so I’m starting up here.”

Robyn moved to his shoulders and poured some of the warm into her hands. She rubbed them together then started to massage his shoulders. Chris looked up at her as her face was slightly above his head and smiled. She kissed his forehead then kept massaging.

“You know Babe, I don’t remember you having so many tattoos.”

“I’ve gotten more than a few since our 20s. You just now noticing?”

“Kind of. Normally when we were about to fuck, I’m not paying that much attention to nonsexual organs.”

Chris laughed, “At least you’re honest.”

“I don’t know any other way to be.”

“But it also sounds like we’re never naked around each other without having sex.”

“Because we aren’t. What’s the reason to be naked other than to fuck? I mean even when we’ve seen each other in the shower and stuff, it still leads to sex so I don’t know. I wonder what that means. Put your arm out for me, Babe.”

Chris stretched his left arm out as Robyn started massaging down his side, “that we can’t be naked and not have sex, which doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

“I guess.”

“We know it’s not just a sexual attraction thing between us so I don’t think it’s a huge deal.”

“That’s true.”

Robyn leaned forward to rub oil on his hips when Chris noticed her shorts were shorter than he anticipated.

“Damn,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Oh you heard that?’

“Uh yea, you can’t whisper, I thought you knew that.”

“Shut up.”

Robyn laughed, “I’m just saying. So damn what?”

“You know your pussy peeks out when you bend over.”

“Well considering I have no draws on, that’s not surprising.”

“Oh.”

“Christopher, I am fucking you at some point in the night. I said tame, not fuck free”

“Why you so aggressive? I feel like a bitch right now.”

Robyn laughed, “that is not my intention, I swear. Maybe I need to learn different phrasing.”

“Before us, you didn't have sex since your husband died, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ma give you a pass, you got eight years of build up in you.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true. She looks good though.”

Robyn wiggled her butt a little then looked back to wink at him.

“Don’t play with me, Robyn.”

“I haven’t touched him yet so I’m not playing with you, Christopher.”

“You do know my hands are free, right?”

“Your point?”

Chris arched his brow and decided to show her instead of answering her. He reached out and palmed the underside of her ass, hard enough where his thumb pressed against her exposed pussy lips, “it’s not good to play with people when you don’t have all the leverage.”

“Considering what I had in those bags over there and what I have in front of me, even though he’s relaxed a bit, I can create leverage if I wanted to. Remember, I’m not the one with limited movement right now.”

“I’m not limited.”

“See, you talk about me being freaky all the time but you always pushing my freak button. Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

“Maybe I want it to be.”

“Well I’m not ready yet. Move your hand.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Christopher, why must you test me?”

“I like seeing what’s gonna happen.”

“You really wanna see?”

“Yea.”

“You sure?”

“Yea.”

“Ok.”

Robyn grabbed his wrist to move it from her butt then she pressed it to the bed, a second later, Chris felt something cold around his wrist, “what the hell is that?”

“Handcuffs. You want me to lock the one on your right side?”

“You’re joking?”

Robyn watched as he tried to move his left arm and heard a clang of metal on metal, “Did I not say I wasn’t ready to play yet? Now, hands off.”

“Robyn.”

She turned and smiled at him, “yes Babe?”

“Can you take it off? I’ll behave.”

“Nah, I think I like it better this way. You like having leverage too much.”

Chris shook his head, “what am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing yet but you can let me finish my massage as I intended.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She pecked his lips, “Thank you.”

She finished on the left side of his body and moved up his right. Chris couldn’t resist touching her when she started bending over again. Robyn gasped as she felt two fingers enter her canal and curve towards her G-spot. She rode them for a mere second before moving far enough for his fingers to fall out of her. She turned to glare at Chris, who just shrugged his shoulders. Taking his wrist, she locked it to the right side of the bed, “see, I was trying to be nice but apparently you don’t like me being nice.”

“I love you being nice.”

“Not enough to play nice though.”

“I’m always playing nice, I let you move off my fingers, didn’t I? And you know I can definitely hold you with only two.”

Robyn straddled him with her back to him.

“Why you facing that way?”

“Because what I want is in this direction, Christopher.”

“Oh so this isn’t about me anymore?”

“It never was.”

“Oh, so that’s how you feeling now?”

Robyn laughed, “yup. I wanted to do all that cute stuff with you but you don’t know how to keep your damn hands to yourself so I’m gonna focus on the part that has no hands. Thank you very much.”

She slid back until her bottom was settled on his stomach then gingerly pulled the sheet down. He wasn’t as hard as he was when she started but it wouldn’t take long to get it back there. She poured a few drops of oil into her palms, rubbed her hands together then gripped his dick at the base. In no time, it was erect and standing straight up again. She smoothed her hands along the elongated shaft as she slid back then bent over slightly to flick her tongue along the head. Chris groaned deep in his throat causing Robyn to giggle. She flicked her tongue again and Chris pulled at the cuffs, trying to free his wrists, “you couldn’t have used scarves or something?”

“Why would I give you something that’s easy to get out of? Defeats the purpose,” she replied softly before she swallowed him whole.

“Oh My God,” he murmured as he threw his head back in pure ecstasy. Robyn continued as she built up a rhythm. Chris bit down on his lip, watching her ass move up and down in front of his face. Small drops of her wetness hitting the skin of his chest as her muffled moans filled the air. She was enjoying torturing him. Robyn moved her hands from the base and gripped his thighs for stability as she continued deepthroating as much of him as she could. She could feel the head throbbing against the back of her throat. He was gonna cum soon. She pulled back and focused her mouth just on the tip. She pulled into her mouth and let it out slowly, a low popping sound was made each time she did it.

 Chris could do nothing but feel. His nerves were on edge and he really wanted her to let his hands go. She was dripping all over his chest. He wished she was further back so he could at least let his tongue out to taste it. Her scent was drifting to his nostrils, making his mouth water. Damn it, she needed to take these cuffs off.

As she felt the throbbing start to subside, she slid his shaft back into her mouth. Chris grunted and his hips lifted, gently fucking her mouth. She gripped his thighs tighter to control the speed of his thrusts.

“Damn it, Robs, uncuff me,” Chris gritted out.

She slid him out of her mouth as she went back to masturbating him with one hand, “No. Try another request.”

“At least let me taste it.”

“Why should I?”

“You are soaking my chest and driving me crazy. Sit on my face.”

“Hmm….I’ll think about it.”

“Robyn.”

She giggled as she climbed off of him and stood facing him. She bit down on her finger seeing how wet his chest was, “I didn’t think I had did all that.”

“You’ve been dripping since you started.”

“Hmm…I wonder,” she leaned over him and licked his chest before wrapping her tongue around one of  his nipples.

“FUCK!” The unexpected sensation of her licking and suckling his skin made pre-cum start to flow out of his dick. His vision blurred and he could feel his chest tighten.

“Robyn, you gotta stop. You’re killing me here.”

She looked up at him as she took one last lick of his skin, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What I want is for you to sit on my face.”

“I guess I can do that.”

She stepped out of her cheer shorts and climbed back on top of him. Her back towards his face. She started to scoot backwards, “close enough?”

“Little more.”

She moved back further, “here?”

“A little more. My tongue is long but not that long.”

She laughed as she moved back more, “how about- fuuuuck”

Chris had flicked his tongue against her lips, “bring it down to me, Baby.”

She spread her legs and pressed down. Chris split her lips with his tongue and easily connected with her clit. Robyn cried out as he started suckling her. She bit down on her lip as felt Chris locate the entrance to her canal and slipped his tongue instead. Her body started to move up and down, riding his tongue like it was his dick. She threw her head back and moaned at the feel. She gripped the sheets in her hands as she pressed her face into his abdomen. His body muffling her sounds.

“Oh God. Yes. I’m gonna cum,” she rambled in a hushed tone as she felt Chris push his tongue deeper inside her. His tongue flittered about, touching every bit of her walls it could reach before alternatively pressing against her clit. She pressed her body lower, the tip of his nose nuzzled against her ass cheeks as he kept licking and sucking her pussy. Her back tensed up as she dug her face into his stomach just as she felt herself start to cum. Chris kept his tongue pressed against her clit, as her juices started to run down his chest. His dick hardened more and pre-cum oozed from the tip. Robyn quickly pulled herself together to grab his dick and insert it into her mouth. Chris’s body jerked at the feel of her tongue again. Each time she moved forward from Chris’s tongue, his dick went further down her throat. Every time she moved back, she suckled the tip. The seesaw situation kept them both heavily aroused.

Robyn could feel the orgasm building in Chris. She felt his stomach muscles clench. She heard the slurping sounds of his mouth on her soaked clit. She pulled away from his face, grabbed his dick by base with both hands and started sucking and masturbating him at the same time. Chris’s voice came out strained and deep as he tried to get her to stop but Robyn kept going until she felt his semen touch her tongue. Chris’s body jerked as he came. Robyn sat back on his stomach, her wetness causing her body to slide far forward than she intended, and watched his orgasm flow like an erupting volcano. The thick, icing colored cum just slid down his shaft. The contrasting colors mesmerized her as she swirled her fingers in it before putting them in her mouth. Chris let out a sigh as his chest heaved.

 “Babe, we made such a mess in here,” Robyn said softly as she dipped her fingers in his orgasm and licked them gingerly like a kitten drinking milk.

“You have got to stop touching it,” Chris murmured as Robyn dipped her fingers again and his sensitive appendage twitched.

Robyn giggled, “here you go, trying to ruin my fun again.”

“Why you keep trying to kill me, Woman?”

“I am not trying to kill you.”

“Can you at least uncuff me? I swear I do not have the energy to fight with you right now.”

“Well….you did give me what I wanted so I guess.”

She flipped around to face him then took her necklace off, a little key hung from the bottom of it. She reached over and unlocked the right cuff then the left. Chris held his hands up and she massaged his wrist gently, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So about that lack of energy….does that mena I can keep controlling things.”

“for now.”

Robyn smirked as she moved back into she felt his dick pressed between her ass cheeks. The left over semen made it smooth as she moved up and down against it for a few moments before she lifted up and slid it inside of her. She sighed as she watched Chris close his eyes with a smile.

“Baby,” she whispered.

“Yes?” Chris replied without opening his eyes.

“I’ll let you get on top if you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“When you cum”

“Yes?”

“Outside, not inside.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you want it.”

Chris smirked, “you got it.”

They switched positions and Chris nibbled on her ear before whispering into it, “you must want to break your freak meter together.”

“Nah, just adding another notch.”

Chris laughed as he moved to press her legs to her ears and sat back on his haunches, “you ready?”

“Ready.”

They stood at the vanity in the bathroom and smiled at each other in the steam covered mirror. Chris rubbed his hand across his chest and shook his head at the imprint in his skin, “why do you like biting me so much?”

“Because you just look fucking edible.”

Chris laughed, “My God, what am I going to do with you?”

“You love me, you’ll figure something out.”

“That’s usually my line.”

“Is it? I don’t remember.”

Chris grabbed her and sat her on the counter then moved to stand in between her legs, “you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. You ready to go again?”

“Nope. Just want to kiss you. Can I do that?”

“You can do whatever you want to.”

Chris grinned as he leaned in to kiss her lips.

[ff-imagines]

NSFW Alphabet: whiskey

Y’all really seemed to like my last whiskey headcanons and I have a lot of love for this stinky man. Here we go!

Listen while reading:

A- Aftercare (what are they like after?)

He’s not very versed to considering what other people want or need, so being put in a situation where that’s exactly what he needs to be in tune with? He’s gonna struggle for a while. You’ll need to tell him what you need for him to really do anything. You’ll always get cuddles though, he won’t outright leave you alone that night.

“What? You need some water? I.... well, alright. Stay here, get under the covers. I won’t be long.”

B- Body part (favorite body part of yours and their own)

His favorite body part of his own is his hands. He’s a very touch oriented person, likes to feel you, how you shiver or how you lean into him. He loves exploring you via touch.

“Do you like the way I touch you? How about... here...? Hmm.... that got a pleasant reaction....”

His favorite part of your body would most likely be your neck. He really likes to mark your neck, harshly. He lives for the way you squeak and squirm every time his teeth bite down on your skin. I predict turtlenecks and scarves in your future.

C- Cum (where do they like to cum & how much do they cum?)

If you let him, cumming inside of you is his dream. It feels so much more intimate in his mind, the little whines you give out as you feel the warmth filling you... he’s completely lost in it.

“I... I can’t..... hold on..... I.... God’s.... you take me so well.... here... have me... have every last drop of my love...”

If you prefer not to have him cum inside, he’d love to cum over your thighs. He’s a total leg guy, so having his cum drop from your thighs? He’s done for.

D- Dirty Secret (whats a dirty secret of theirs?)

He secretly kinda wants you to top him. He’d never want to give up his dominance, but if you were to offer... or rather... demand it.... he wouldn’t say no....

E- Experience (how much experience do they have?)

Honestly? Extremely little. He’s had small encounters here and there, but they always felt.... off. Wrong. They happened because he was curious on what it would be like, and it didn’t do much for him. He’s definitely got some learning to do.

“I’ve been waiting for the right person to share myself with.... I’ve been waiting for you.”

F- Favorite Position (self explainitory lmao)

He’s not picky, but he needs to see your face. Doggy isn’t out of the question, but there needs to be a mirror nearby where he can see your face. He prefers positions that give him control.

“Here, here... no no... don’t hide your face from me, I want to see you come undone...”

G- Goofy (how goofy are they during?)

Nope. Not at all. He’s not really goofy in general, and when he is his humor is.... very dark.

“A joke? Dearest, is this really the time?”

H- Hair (how groomed are they?)

Trimmed and proper. Hates it any other way, he feels less clean. He won’t force you to do anything, but he’ll express his wish that you do the same.

I- Intimacy (how intimate are they during?)

He might not be goofy, but damn if he doesn’t try his best to make it intimate. He’s been waiting so goddamn long for you to come into his life again, he’s gonna make sure his image is pressed into your mind as well as your body.

J- Jack Off (self ex.)

A rare occurrence. Maybe twice a month. He’s not the most sex driven person, and he’d rather spend his time with you rather than alone.

However.... he’s never touched himself so much as the days leading up to the day you help up that glowing vile of ink... you both could feel the tension, and that ink sealed your fate.

“Love.... do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted this? How many times I’ve touched myself thinking of this moment...?”

K- Kink

Honestly? If you praise him in anyway? He’ll make you see another planet.

“What...? What was that? Can you say that again? No, say that again.” “........” “..... again........ again... again...”

Big thing for biting and scratching. I mean, have you seen this mans nails?

“It hurts you say? Hehe.... well... it’s supposed to!”

Nothing too heavy, but he’s definitely interested in bondage. He’s especially interested in handcuffs.

“Not to tight right? Hm, funny, the more I bind you, the more fidgety you become....”

L- Location (where do they like to do it?)

Does not like the idea of being caught, you are for him to see and him alone. Somewhere safe, cushy, and where both of you know you won’t be interrupted.

“No no, wait. Lock the door. I don’t want anyone else seeing you. They don’t deserve too.”

M- Motivation (what gets them in the mood?)

Honestly? Just asking. Is that kinda un-sexy? Yeah. But he likes the honestly when he’s so used to nothing but lies.

“Dearest! You’re back! I just read the m—...... what? Well... I... well.... hehe.... alright. Come here.”

N- No (what will they never do?)

Besides letting anyone else in the room, he doesn’t like it when he draws blood. If he bites down or scratches and draws blood, he knows he went a little too far.

“Damn... your skin is weaker than I thought it would be... no no, it’s ok, it’s my fault. Come on, let’s get you some water. It won’t happen again.”

He also has a biiig problem with non-con role play. Also, role play in general seems silly to him, but non-con stuff is really crossing the line.

“What? People are into that? And I thought the ‘playing pretend’ thing was as low as people could get. Why would I trouble you with something you don’t want?”

O- Oral (self ex.)

Hates giving. He feels like it’s unclean, can’t stand the taste. He loves receiving however. He prefers you to spit, he feels bad when you swallow something that tastes so vile.

“Dearest, no. You don’t have too-.... oh, you did anyway. I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t...”

P- Pace (how fast/hard do they like it?)

Super dependent on how you acted towards him that day.

Being a brat? Fast and hard.

“Today you’ve been much more... talkative. I don’t like the backtalk. Perhaps you’d like me to prove to you who is in control here?”

If you’re being sweet and cuddly? Soft and sensual.

“Come here.... you’ve been so good to me today.... maybe you’d like me to give you a reward? It’s only fair...”

He’s not a one trick pony.

Q- Quickie (how do they feel about quick rounds?)

No. He likes to take his time.

“Wha- here? Now? Dearest, no. Let’s wait till tonight and have a proper time.”

R- Risk (would they enjoy maybe being caught in the act?)

N o. 不 要. N o n. N e i n. A b s o l u t e l y not.

“Your other souls have been lurking around you lately. I don’t appreciate it.” “What?” “Of course I care about him coming to close to you! What if he ruins all I’ve made for you?” “.... don’t concern yourself with meanings...”

S- Stamina (how long do they last?)

At most, two or three rounds. He prefers one drawn out round where your absolutely spent and sore by the end of it, though.

“Hmm? Again? Well... alright. Give me a minute. Come here. Let me hold you until I’m ready.”

T- Toy (would they use toys?)

Sorta? He’d definitely use handcuffs and blindfold and the like, but not so much vibrators or dildos. He doesn’t want a piece of plastic doing his job for him.

“I’m not sure. I don’t see the point in buying what I already give you.”

U- Unfair (do they tease and deny you a lot?)

Yes. You’ll be crying begging for him and he still won’t give you what you want.

“You need to ask politely!” “I can’t hear you....” “hehe.... you weren’t loud enough that first time... maybe another twenty minutes is required to make you completely obedient....”

V- Volume (how loud are they?)

Not at all. Small grunts, and a lot of sighing. He does talk a lot, though.

“mmm... you’re so warm... I can feel the way you squeeze down on me... should I go deeper?” “Hmhm.. I’ll take that as a yes....”

W- Wild Card (random head canon)

He likes to have low lighting. Even when you’re not having sex, he likes to work by candle light.

“It’s easier on the eyes, don’t you think?”

X- X-Ray (what’s going on down there?)

Around 5.9 ish. Not small by any means, but it’s not going to kill you.

Y- Yearning (how high is their libido?)

Not exactly high, nor really low though, either. A happy medium. He is firm on when he’s not in the mood. He respects when you say no, he expects the same amount of respect.

“Dearest, We’ve already had our fun thrice the last days already, I have things to catch up on.”

Z- ZZZ... (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

.... does whiskey ever sleep? He does like how cute and exhausted you look, however.

“Hmm, asleep already? Hehe... that’s okay. You’re so cute.... I like seeing you so peaceful, so vulnerable....”

[hennyjolzen]

by PAM GROSSMAN May 30, 2019

Pam Grossman is the author of Waking the Witch: Reflections on Women, Magic, and Power.

Witches have always walked among us, populating societies and storyscapes across the globe for thousands of years. From Circe to Hermione, from Morgan le Fay to Marie Laveau, the witch has long existed in the tales we tell about ladies with strange powers that can harm or heal. And although people of all genders have been considered witches, it is a word that is now usually associated with women.

Throughout most of history, she has been someone to fear, an uncanny Other who threatens our safety or manipulates reality for her own mercurial purposes. She’s a pariah, a persona non grata, a bogeywoman to defeat and discard. Though she has often been deemed a destructive entity, in actuality a witchy woman has historically been far more susceptible to attack than an inflictor of violence herself. As with other “terrifying” outsiders, she occupies a paradoxical role in cultural consciousness as both vicious aggressor and vulnerable prey.

Over the past 150 years or so, however, the witch has done another magic trick, by turning from a fright into a figure of inspiration. She is now as likely to be the heroine of your favorite TV show as she is its villain. She might show up in the form of your Wiccan coworker, or the beloved musician who gives off a sorceress vibe in videos or onstage.

There is also a chance that she is you, and that “witch” is an identity you have taken upon yourself for any number of reasons — heartfelt or flippant, public or private.

Today, more women than ever are choosing the way of the witch, whether literally or symbolically. They’re floating down catwalks and sidewalks in gauzy black clothing and adorning themselves with Pinterest-worthy pentagrams and crystals. They’re filling up movie theaters to watch witchy films, and gathering in back rooms and backyards to do rituals, consult tarot cards and set life-altering intentions. They’re marching in the streets with HEX THE PATRIARCHY placards and casting spells each month to try to constrain the commander-in-chief. Year after year, articles keep proclaiming, “It’s the Season of the Witch!” as journalists try to wrap their heads around the mushrooming witch “trend.”

And all of this begs the question: Why?

Why do witches matter? Why are they seemingly everywhere right now? What, exactly, are they? (And why the hell won’t they go away?)

I get asked such things over and over, and you would think that after a lifetime of studying and writing about witches, as well as hosting a witch-themed podcast and being a practitioner of witchcraft myself, my answers would be succinct.

In fact, I find that the more I work with the witch, the more complex she becomes. Hers is a slippery spirit: try to pin her down, and she’ll only recede further into the deep, dark wood.

I do know this for sure though: show me your witches, and I’ll show you your feelings about women. The fact that the resurgence of feminism and the popularity of the witch are ascending at the same time is no coincidence: the two are reflections of each other.

That said, this current Witch Wave is nothing new. I was a teen in the 1990s, the decade that brought us such pop-occulture as Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed and The Craft, not to mention riot grrrls and third-wave feminists who taught me that female power could come in a variety of colors and sexualities. I learned that women could lead a revolution while wearing lipstick and combat boots — and sometimes even a cloak.

But my own witchly awakening came at an even earlier age.

Morganville, New Jersey, where I was raised, was a solidly suburban town, but it retained enough natural land features back then to still feel a little bit scruffy in spots. We had a small patch of woods in our backyard that abutted a horse farm, and the two were separated by a wisp of running water that we could cross via a plank of wood. In one corner of the yard, a giant puddle would form whenever it rained, surrounded by a border of ferns. My older sister, Emily, and I called this spot our Magical Place. That it would vanish and then reappear only added to its mystery. It was a portal to the unknown.

These woods are where I first remember doing magic — entering that state of deep play where imaginative action becomes reality. I would spend hours out there, creating rituals with rocks and sticks, drawing secret symbols in the dirt, losing all track of time. It was a space that felt holy and wild, yet still strangely safe.

As we age, we’re supposed to stop filling our heads with such “nonsense.” Unicorns are to be traded in for Barbie dolls (though both are mythical creatures, to be sure). We lose our tooth fairies, walk away from our wizards. Dragons get slain on the altar of youth.

Most kids grow out of their “magic phase.” I grew further into mine.

My grandma Trudy was a librarian at the West Long Branch Library, which meant I got to spend many an afternoon lurking between the 001.9 and 135 Dewey decimal–sections, reading about Bigfoot and dream interpretation and Nostradamus. I spent countless hours in my room, learning about witches and goddesses, and I loved anything by authors like George MacDonald, Roald Dahl, and Michael Ende — writers fluent in the language of enchantment. Books were my broomstick. They allowed me to fly to other realms where anything was possible.

Though fictional witches were my first guides, I soon discovered that magic was something real people could do. I started frequenting new age shops and experimenting with mass-market paperback spell books from the mall. I was raised Jewish but found myself attracted to belief systems that felt more individualized and mystical and that fully honored the feminine. Eventually I found my way to modern Paganism, a self-directed spiritual path that sustains me to this day. I’m not unique in this trajectory of pivoting away from organized religion and toward something more personal: as of September 2017, more than a quarter of U.S. adults — 27% — now say that they think of themselves as spiritual but not religious, according to Pew Research Center.

Now, I identify both as a witch and with the archetype of the witch overall, and I use the term fluidly. At any given time, I might use the word witch to signify my spiritual beliefs, my supernatural interests or my role as an unapologetically complex, dynamic female in a world that prefers its women to be smiling and still. I use it with equal parts sincerity and salt: with a bow to a rich and often painful history of worldwide witchcraft, and a wink to other members of our not-so-secret society of people who fight from the fringes for the liberty to be our weirdest and most wondrous selves. Magic is made in the margins.

To be clear: you don’t have to practice witchcraft or any other alternative form of spirituality to awaken your own inner witch. You may feel attracted to her symbolism, her style or her stories but are not about to rush out to buy a cauldron or go sing songs to the sky. Maybe you’re more of a nasty woman than a devotee of the Goddess. That’s perfectly fine: the witch belongs to you too.

I remain more convinced than ever that the concept of the witch endures because she transcends literalism and because she has so many dark and sparkling things to teach us. Many people get fixated on the “truth” of the witch, and numerous fine history books attempt to tackle the topic from the angle of so-called factuality. Did people actually believe in magic? They most certainly did and still do. Were the thousands of victims who were killed in the 16th- and 17th-century witch hunts actually witches themselves? Most likely not. Are witches real? Why, yes, you’re reading the words of one. All of these things are true.

But whether or not there were actually women and men who practiced witchcraft in Rome or Lancashire or Salem, say, is less interesting to me than the fact that the idea of witches has remained so evocative and influential and so, well, bewitching in the first place.

In other words, the fact and the fiction of the witch are inextricably linked. Each informs the other and always has. I’m fascinated by how one archetype can encompass so many different facets. The witch is a notorious shape-shifter, and she comes in many guises:

A hag in a pointy hat, cackling madly as she boils a pot of bones.

A scarlet-lipped seductress slipping a potion into the drink of her unsuspecting paramour.

A cross-dressing French revolutionary who hears the voices of angels and saints.

A perfectly coifed suburban housewife, twitching her nose to change her circumstances at will, despite her husband’s protests.

A woman dancing in New York City’s Central Park with her coven to mark the change of the seasons or a new lunar phase.

The witch has a green face and a fleet of flying monkeys. She wears scarves and leather and lace.

She lives in Africa; on the island of Aeaea; in a tower; in a chicken-leg hut; in Peoria, Illinois.

She lurks in the forests of fairy tales, in the gilded frames of paintings, in the plotlines of sitcoms and YA novels, and between the bars of ghostly blues songs.

She is solitary.

She comes in threes.

She’s a member of a coven.

Sometimes she’s a he.

She is stunning, she is hideous, she is insidious, she is ubiquitous.

She is our downfall. She is our deliverance.

Our witches say as much about us as they do about anything else — for better and for worse.

More than anything, though, the witch is a shining and shadowy symbol of female power and a force for subverting the status quo. No matter what form she takes, she remains an electric source of magical agitation that we can all plug into whenever we need a high-voltage charge.

She is also a vessel that contains our conflicting feelings about female power: our fear of it, our desire for it and our hope that it can — and will — grow stronger, despite the flames that are thrown at it.

Whether the witch is depicted as villainous or valorous, she is always a figure of freedom — both its loss and its gain. She is perhaps the only female archetype who is an independent operator. Virgins, whores, daughters, mothers, wives — each of these is defined by whom she is sleeping with or not, the care that she is giving or that is given to her, or some sort of symbiotic debt that she must eventually pay.

The witch owes nothing. That is what makes her dangerous. And that is what makes her divine.

Witches have power on their own terms. They have agency. They create. They praise. They commune with the spiritual realm, freely and free of any mediator.

They metamorphose, and they make things happen. They are change agents whose primary purpose is to transform the world as it is into the world they would like it to be.

This is also why being called a witch and calling oneself a witch are usually two vastly different experiences. In the first case, it’s often an act of degradation, an attack against a perceived threat.

The second is an act of reclamation, an expression of autonomy and pride. Both of these aspects of the archetype are important to keep in mind. They may seem like contradictions, but there is much to glean from their interplay.

The witch is the ultimate feminist icon because she is a fully rounded symbol of female oppression and liberation. She shows us how to tap into our own might and magic, despite the many who try to strip us of our power.

We need her now more than ever.

[jaded-envy]

hit the ground running

Soul's crush on the girl he sees jogging in the park is the one thing that makes his crappy barista job tolerable. Learning how to run in order to keep up with her might just kill him though. Also featuring Black*Star as a Total Bro.

READ HERE: [ao3] [ff.net]

Welcome to my first fic for the Soul Eater fandom and the culmination of my July 2017 Camp Nanowrimo goals! This is an entirely self-indulgent fic, as I started running with C25K this summer, but I do hope you enjoy!

A thousand thanks to my beta and writing sister, @redphlox - she is the best and the most awesome and please go read her SoMa fics if you haven't already! And I couldn't have finished this without the help from my husband, who provided much of the crazy Black*Star punishments.

“my heart could take a chance, but my two feet can’t find a way”

-I Don’t Feel Like Dancing by Scissor Sisters

“my girl’s a switchblade, bright lights on a cityscape,

wherever she goes, I’m gonna chase”

-Celeste by Ezra Vine

“so you say one day you’ll be my life, my love, my guiding light,

my pillar of strength; I’ll call you home, my rock, my stone”

- Testify by Hifi Sean and Crystal Waters

The windows of the café are smudged, and Soul resolves to make sure Hiro catches hell for screwing up the one thing that makes this job enjoyable.  At least it's not too hard to see out into the park beyond - he can see yellow and orange tinges on the leaves on the trees, and the ducks by the pond waddling around pulling at the grass. It's beautiful by most people's accounts, but Soul is looking for something that he thinks is much prettier.

"Whatcha looking at?"

Soul jumps a half a foot in the air and whirls around to see his least favorite customer and best friend lounging at the counter, looking bored.

"Is Jogging Chick passing by or something?" Black*Star raises up on his tiptoes, trying to look over Soul's shoulder. Soul uses his height to his advantage for once, drawing himself up completely and blocking him from the view of the window.

"No," Soul says, scowling. "Go away Black*Star, I'm busy working."

Black*Star makes a show of looking around the almost completely abandoned café. "Obviously."

He sighs. "What do you want?"

Black*Star shakes a finger in Soul's face, prompting him to bare his teeth in response. "Now Soul, is that any way to talk to a customer?"

Soul rolls his eyes. "Customers pay. You're here because you want to bum an espresso off me."

Black*Star gasps dramatically. "How could you suggest that I'm here for any other reason than to see how my best bro was doing and coincidentally buy a coffee with my own legally tendered currency, though now that I think about it I may have left my wallet at home…"

Soul tunes him out, subtly trying to keep the park in sight as he nods along to Black*Star's increasing loud excuses. Soul is contemplating giving in and just making him the damn coffee when he sees her.

"Shut up, shut up," Soul says absently, cutting him off and pushing Black*Star's face away as he cranes his neck around.

And there she is - the one thing that makes his crappy barista job worthwhile. With her blonde hair in pigtails, long toned legs, bright pink tank top, black shorts, Soul couldn't imagine a cuter sight. Her hands gesture animatedly, never breaking stride as she relates some story to her friend. When she laughs, he imagines her voice to be bright and cheerful; when she chances a glance at the street, he imagines her eyes to be lively and kind. Watching her run is like watching seals swim, or hawks glide - it's watching something so graceful, so in its element, and so far off from what he's capable of.

She's absolutely beautiful, and completely unobtainable.

Black*Star squints at Soul's object of affection. "That's her?" he asks, incredulous. "The skinny flat-chested one?" He side-eyes Soul. "That's the one?"

"Mmhm," Soul almost sighs.

Black*Star makes an indecipherable noise. The girl's pigtails bounce in time with the cadence of her gait.

"One time, some creep tried to grope her as she was drinking from the water fountain," Soul says dreamily, watching her. "She turned around and karate-kicked him in the head."

Black*Star raises an eyebrow. "And…you thought that was hot?"

Soul buries his face in his hands. "Yes," he mumbles from between his fingers. What he doesn't say is that he's pretty sure she could kick his ass three ways to Friday and he would enjoy every minute of it.

Black*Star shakes his head. "I mean, whatever floats your boat dude, but if I were you I'd be after that one." He points to the other girl, a taller, dark-haired woman. "Actually no," Black*Star revises, "you can keep your interest in the skinny one. The other one is more my style."

The two of them admire the girls as they run past. As they disappear from view, Soul resigns himself to another long, boring day with nothing else to look forward to. He tries not to dwell on the fact that the most exciting part of his day is over in about seven minutes.

"Tell you what, my best bro," Black*Star says, leaning on the counter. "I'm gonna do you a huge favor."

"Black*Star, the last time you told me that, I ended up crawling out of Mrs. Kearn's window after accidentally discovering her bondage porn collection."

He rolls his eyes. "You still got your cassette tape back before she chucked it."

"I couldn't look her in the eye for the rest of the semester," Soul hisses, fingers tightening on the edge of the counter.

Black*Star waves his protests away. "Listen. You have a morning shift again tomorrow right?"

"Yes," Soul says reluctantly.

"Good. Meet me in the park at four." Black*Star starts to move away, hollering, "And don't you dare try to skip, remember, I know where you live!"

"We're roommates you asshole!" Soul yells after him. He glances apologetically at the few customers in the shop, then blows out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck. Maybe it wasn't too late to move back to Connecticut.

The next day, Soul kicks at the leaves littering the asphalt of the park trail. There's a chill in the air heralding the onset of fall, and the few passersby wear scarves and hats. He shrinks into himself as much as possible, feeling like a complete dolt in the thin gym clothes Black*Star insisted he wear.

"All right!" Black*Star's voice rings out, entirely too cheerful. "Glad you could make it!" He hands a coffee cup to Soul.

Soul glares at him over the rim. "You dragged me out of here after kicking down my door and waking me up from my nap with a water balloon to the face."

"You weren't getting up!"

"That doesn't mean - ugh, whatever." He takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces. "This is horrible, where did you get this from?"

"Your coffee shop."

Soul sighs. Looks like Kid was going to have to be trained again on how to make a proper cup of coffee. Hopefully he wouldn't insist on counting out how many coffee beans went into the grinder like he did last time. "Why are we out here again?"

"Listen broski." Black*Star cracks his neck and starts doing lunges. "You wanna get together with your Jogging Chick, I wanna meet her bodacious friend. Now, we both know that there's a snowball's chance in hell of you just going up and asking the girl out because you're a total pansy."

"Hey!"

Black*Star raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, fair," Soul mutters.

"Anyway, I figure the only way to get both of us what we want is to meet them on their own turf, doing their thing."

"Wait," Soul says, heart sinking, "wait, you don't mean-"

"And that means running!"

Soul groans. "Black*Star, you know how I feel about physical activity."

"Well that's why we're out here late, so we can get started without running into them. Heh. Oh, by the way, think fast!"

Soul barely catches the object thrown at him, fumbling with what he identifies as his own phone.

"Took the liberty of loading your new exercise program on it."

"It's password protected, how the fuck did you get in?"

Black*Star holds a finger to his lips. "Gods don't reveal their secrets."

Soul groans, resolving to change his password for the third time this week. He scrolls through his apps, locates a new, obnoxiously bright orange one, taps it. "C25K?"

"I have all my clients use it if they want to try running, so I figured it'd work on you too. Load it up, we're gonna do the first week together. Week two, we'll run when the girls do and introduce ourselves that way."

Soul's tempted to turn on his heel and go spend the rest of his day off doing preferably anything else, but he recognizes the look in Black*Star's eyes - one that almost dares him to try wriggling his way out of this one. Last time he challenged that look, he ended up finding out exactly how many mousetraps could fit into his bedroom at once.

So he sighs instead and digs out his headphones. Black*Star bounces eagerly from foot to foot, leads him through some basic stretches, and falls in step with Soul when he starts his warm up walk.

Thirty minutes later, Soul is bracing himself against a tree, trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Black*Star has hardly broken a sweat and is currently doing one handed pushups. Soul kind of hates him.

Black*Star flips into a hand stand, then pushes off to stand normally as Soul slouches his way down the pathway towards their apartment. Black*Star shoves ahead of him and begins jogging backwards.

"Good job today buddy." He flashes Soul two thumbs up.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Soul grumbles.

"First day is always the hardest! You'll get the hang of it soon." His index fingers stick out to join his thumbs as he gives Soul two finger guns. "Then we'll get you hooked up with your crush -" he turns his fingers onto himself, "- and me with her lady friend."

Yeah right, Soul thinks to himself. Black*Star's always been a little deluded about Soul's motivation and dedication, being the complete opposite of him in both areas. If Soul had a shred of the drive Black*Star possessed, he'd be…well, he probably wouldn't be working at a coffee shop full time, with no real prospects on the horizon, and staring longingly out the window at a girl he knows he'll never work up the courage to meet.

By the third day of running, Soul's body seems to be adjusting to the increased activity it's being subjected to. Black*Star declares that three days from now, on Soul's next day off, they'll be meeting at one, the same time the girls usually run.

Soul almost bails three times before Black*Star forcibly drags him to the park. When he realizes there's no getting out of it, Soul insists that they get there at least a half hour early, partly in hopes that they'll be done with their session before his crush shows up. He doesn't think he could handle the first time she looks at him be a look of disgust, or worse, pity.

He almost gets his wish - they're on their fourth walking interval when through the trees he spots the two girls on the opposite side of the park. Soul's heart stutters in his chest and he almost slows to a stop, staring at her like a fucking moron. He can't help it though; without the windowpane separating them, she seems so much more vivid and within reach.

Then Soul remembers that he's currently incredibly sweaty and red-faced from running and not at all attractive. He picks up the pace, jogs faster when the program tells him to run, keeping one ear free of earbuds to listen for them.

It's in vain though - he can hear their footsteps behind him and their rapid fire speech over the sound of his music and the trudging of his feet. He keeps his eyes trained ahead, and doesn't look at them as they pull up next to him. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he doesn't think he can blame it just on exertion.

They pass him without even a glance his way, and he's just about to breathe a sigh of relief and settle back into familiar longing when Black*Star starts to pull ahead. One glance into his eyes and Soul's hissing his name, trying desperately to get him to not embarrass them or get them arrested.

Predictably, Black*Star ignores him, and Soul is forced to watch as his running partner/coach begins to catch up with the two. Instead of overtaking them, though, he falls into pace on the other side of the taller girl. Soul's crush shoots Black*Star a glare, and he can hear the fierceness in her tone as she addresses Black*Star, even though he's too far away to hear the actual words. They disappear around the bend, and Soul gives up on catching up to them, focusing instead on finishing his session. Worse comes to worse he'll just pretend not to know Black*Star and take his punishment for that later.

About ten minutes later, Soul spies the three standing near the water fountain. The girl is leaning forward, arms crossed, arguing with Black*Star, who is mirroring her pose - her friend stands between them, looking amused. Soul slows his pace, debating on whether to approach them or turn around and leave, when Black*Star sees him and makes an over-exaggerated gesture of "get over here!". Soul finds himself on the receiving end of three gazes, one curious, one suspicious and one sly, and reluctantly makes his way over.

"Here he is!" Black*Star crows, and Soul suppresses the urge to punch him. He hovers next to his loud-mouth friend, giving only a grunt and a nod in acknowledgement. Up close the girl is cuter than ever, with freckles and bright green eyes that are currently narrowed at him and Black*Star.

"We were just saying to your friend that we haven't seen you guys around the park before." Even her voice is attractive, and he feels completely tongue tied as she continues to scrutinize him. "Do you run here often?" she asks.

"He's just starting," Black*Star says, and Soul feels his face heat up.

The girl gives him an appraising look, then breaks out into a smile. "Good for you!" she says, sincere, and he flushes further. "I'm Maka." She sticks out her hand to shake. Soul goes to shake it, hoping he doesn't get her hand too sweaty.

"Tsubaki," the other girl says, giving him a small wave and a gentle smile.

Black*Star winks at her. "Black*Star. This sad lump here is Soul."

"Hey," Soul mutters.

"Turns out we go to the same dojo! Who would have thought huh? Maka here takes the morning classes though, so that's why we've never met."

"A true shame," Maka deadpans. Soul falls further. "Anyway, Tsubaki and I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you Soul." She gives him another brilliant smile that makes him duck his head.

"You too," he manages, studying his shoes.

"I'll see you at yoga class tomorrow Tsubaki!" Black*Star hollers. "Eight am!" Tsubaki gives him a thumbs up before jogging after Maka.

"Eight am?" Soul asks him slyly as they walk towards their apartment. "You never get up before noon. You passed up on a promotion at the gym because it would mean you start your shift at ten!"

"Got the promotion anyway because I'm so awesome," Black*Star responds. "Also, shut your piehole. Shouldn't you be mooning over the fact that you now know Jogging Chick's name? Don't think for a second that I didn't see you making eyes at her."

"Wasn't making eyes," Soul grumbles - then, at Black*Star's incredulous stare, "What about you, huh, I think if you flexed for her friend any more, your biceps would fall off."

"A body this good needs proper appreciation," he replies airily. "Don't be jealous, I flex for you plenty."

Soul shudders. "Please stop. In fact, just save it all for Tsubaki, she'll appreciate it more."

"That's the plan!" Black*Star sings as they cross the street.

They fall into a companionable silence for the rest of the way back, and it gives him time to think about the new developments in his love life (if he could even call it that). If he had been secretly hoping, just a little, that actually meeting her would make any potential feelings he had for her wither, well, that had been thrown out the window completely.

Maka. Soul mulls over the name, turning it over in his mind. He thinks of her sharp green eyes - her sarcastic, take-no-shit tone - her open, friendly smile. Maka.

The weekend after, Soul is rudely awakened, once again, by his asshole of a roommate, who bursts into his room and loudly announces that they're going to the basketball courts in twenty minutes so "get up and get dressed before I start to see how well your records act as frisbees."

Truthfully, basketball is one of the few forms of physical activity Soul can get behind, so it's with a minimal amount of grumbling that he gets ready. In fact, Soul is feeling pretty good up until Black*Star casually mentions that Tsu and his potential snugglebunny would be there too.

His only consolation is that Maka, apparently, did not seem to know that this was happening either.

"Soul!" Maka greets him enthusiastically, and Soul does his best to give her a cool nod in response. "I'm glad you're here. Did you know that this was going on?"

He shakes his head. They watch as Black*Star zooms over to Tsubaki, saying something that makes her giggle.

"I think she's really taken with him," Maka confesses quietly. She huffs. "Honestly, I'm not sure why…"

"Black*Star is a good guy," Soul protests, feeling weirdly protective. "He's loud and obnoxious and brash, yeah, but he's really loyal, and he's uh, helped me out a lot."

Maka hums. "I guess I can see that," she concedes. "Still, if he hurts Tsubaki I'll kick his ass."

"I'm sure you will," he says, and if it comes out a lot more admiringly than he meant it to, Maka doesn't seem to notice.

"Yo scrubs, get over here!" Black*Star calls.

Soul and Maka exchange a wordless glance of resignation.

"There's four of us, so we're gonna be on two teams. Soul, my bro, you take Maka here, and I'm gonna take Tsubaki."

"What exactly are we doing?" Maka asks.

"Basketball, duh."

"What? I don't know how to play basketball."

"What, didn't your boyfriend or girlfriend ever teach you?" Wow, subtle, Soul thinks, glaring daggers at Black*Star and trying not to cringe. Black*Star gives him a wink in response

"Don't have one," Maka responds briskly. "Ugh, fine, I'll play, but I need to look up the rules."

Black*Star looks at Soul like "seriously? You have a crush on her?" and Soul scowls at him in response. "Whatever," Black*Star says. "We're gonna warm up then."

They run a lap or two around the court, then move to the other end for lay-ups. "Did you hear that?!" Black*Star whispers at a volume roughly equivalent to an airhorn as he passes the ball to Soul. "She's single!"

"Shut up!" Soul hisses, frantically checking to see if Maka heard. Luckily she seems too preoccupied with reading the rules of basketball on her phone (what a nerd, he thinks far too fondly) to have heard Black*Star. "That doesn't even mean anything," he says. "She could not be into guys for all we know."

Black*Star takes a deep breath and Soul just about falls over in stuffing his hands over Black*Star's mouth before he could do something stupid like ask her about her gender preferences. Black*Star grimaces and struggles, but Soul keeps an iron grip on him until he finally stops moving and rolls his eyes instead. Soul carefully removes his hands, and relaxes slightly when all Black*Star does is sigh. "She's into guys, trust me," he says. "She was totally checking you out when you were running."

Soul scowls. "No she wasn't," he says, but still turns his head to look at Maka, still staring intently at her phone, as if he could catch her in the act.

Black*Star shrugs. "If you say so dude. Hey dorkzilla!" he yells across the court. "We gonna play or what?"

Maka looks up and the fire in her eyes does weird things to Soul's stomach. "What did you just call me?" she growls as she stuffs her phone in her pocket.

"We can do a practice game first, since I'm a gracious god," Black*Star says magnanimously.

Maka favors Black*Star with a wicked smile. "Bring it on, Smurf."

Maka's really, really terrible at basketball.

"You really suck at this," Soul says when the ball bounces off the court for the fifth time after she fumbled with dribbling.

"Thanks, tell me something I didn't know," she grumbles. "Can't I just hold the ball and dribble occasionally?"

"No, that's called double dribbling and is against the rules," he says again patiently.

"Ugh!" She throws her hands up in the air. "This is so confusing and makes no sense!"

"It makes perfect sense," he insists. He casts around for something for her to do that doesn't involve touching the ball. "Look," he says, "how about you guard Black*Star while I try to get the ball."

She looks a little cheered at that, and eagerly jogs to get in front of Black*Star. Soul takes Tsubaki as she comes back from retrieving the ball. He keeps his eyes trained on hers, and when she moves to toss it, he easily reaches up and knocks it off course with the tips of his fingers. Quick as lightening, he regains control of the ball and dashes down the court, sinking the ball into the net.

"Yes!" he cheers, only to become aware of the squabbling happening off to the side.

"SOUL!" Black*Star bellows, sounding a little strangled. Soul turns to see him struggling in a chokehold, face a slight tinge of red. "GET YOUR GIRL-"

"MAKA!" Soul interrupts loudly. "You're not supposed to touch him! Just block him from getting the ball."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" Maka drops her grip to cross her arms.

Black*Star takes a deep overdramatic gasp of air and glares at her. "Overpowered pipsqueak," he says with a begrudging tone of respect.

"Hyperactive buffoon," Maka replies easily.

Tsubaki claps her hands together. "Should we start playing for score now?"

Soul hesitates, glancing at Maka. She catches his eye. "I think I understand it now," she insists. "No double dribbling, can't touch the other person, put the ball into the net." She flashes him a smile and a thumbs up that does nothing to reassure him but has his face heating anyway.

They're losing terribly. Soul stopped keeping track of the score fifteen points ago.

It doesn't help that Black*Star seems to be hellbent on winning. Normally, Soul can hold his own against Black*Star. Actually, Soul would wager he's slightly better at basketball - he's got the reach and the precision that Black*Star, for all of his superior speed, strength and stamina, doesn't have. When they play one on one, they usually come out pretty evenly, maybe even slightly in Soul's favor.

But for whatever reason, Black*Star seems to be pulling out all the stops this game, including parkouring up the basketball pole for a dunk.

"I thought you were supposed to be helping me!" Soul growls as he attempts to slap the ball away from his so called friend.

"I am!" Black*Star retorts, easily dodging. "She's pathetic at this game, making you look bad will give you a chance to bond!"

"That is not helping," he grits out as Black*Star backs off, before running straight at him and literally sliding between Soul's legs. He then proceeds to take a shot, which bounces off the rim, then springs into the air with the help of Tsubaki's laced fingers to catch the ball and dunk it. "Yahoo!" he shouts, pumping his fist in the air.

An hour later, they declare the game over. Tsubaki and Black*Star win by 35 points.

"Well that was a disaster," Soul says, sitting next to Maka on the bench, watching Black*Star chat up Tsubaki across the court.

Maka flicks her hair out of her face. "Sorry," she huffs, crossing her arms.

"'S okay." He shrugs. "I still had fun. Playing with you I mean."

Out the corner of his eye he can see her scrutinizing him, probably judging whether he's sincere or not. He keeps his face carefully blank, looking away from her.

"I had fun too," she admits finally. "Thanks for helping me out."

He shrugs again, but can't help the smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth. "We'll beat them next time," he assures her.

Her eyes brighten. "Yeah!" she says, jumping up. "I'm sure the library has some books on basketball. Next time I'll definitely know the rules."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "What?" she asks, defensive.

"Nothing," Soul says, standing up. She narrows his eyes at him. "You know," he begins, trying to adopt a casual tone, "if you uh, wanted to practice, we could play. Together. Sometime. Whenever." He bites his tongue to stop more inane words from spilling out.

"Sure," she says. Soul does an internal fist pump as they exchange phone numbers.

The edges of the sky are just starting to turn dusky when Maka and Tsubaki decide to call it a day.

"See you around?" Soul says, hopeful, as they gather their jackets.

"See you around!" Maka confirms, waving goodbye.

Black*Star flashes Soul a thumbs up that is about as subtle as a brick to the face. He can only hope that she didn't see that, though a burst of quiet giggles from Tsubaki lets him know that at least one other person witnessed it.

"Well that went well," Black*Star says. "Want to have a rematch? Try to scrape together some of your pride after we kicked your ass so thoroughly?"

Soul shakes his head. "I'm good." He begins to walk away in the direction of their apartment, but pauses when he realizes Black*Star isn't following him. "You comin'?" he asks.

Black*Star stretches. "You go on ahead. And don't wait up, I have a date tonight."

Soul's mouth drops open. "What? Tonight?"

Black*Star rolls his shoulders. "Yu-p! Tsubaki and I are gonna go out to that pho shop on 6th Ave."

"Already? You already asked her out? What did you even say?"

He gives him a strange look. "I told her that I thought she was attractive and if she was interested, I'd give her the opportunity to go on best date she's ever been on."

"H - how," Soul manages, "how are you good at this."

"Well I can't blame her for wanting to get it on with a god," Black*Star says, preening, "but ladies love confidence, man."

Soul chews on his lip. "Really?"

"Yeah dude! You gotta show them that you're worth their time! Why would they want to date you if you don't think you're worthy of it?"

Soul mulls this over. Black*Star catches his expression, and quickly amends, "Obviously you don't want to be an asshole, she doesn't owe anything to you, but confidence is sexy!"

He has a point, Soul is forced to agree. He thinks about Maka's smirk, the challenge in her eyes when Black*Star goads her into racing him, the assuredness in her stance when she tells off some guy for catcalling her or Tsubaki.

"Maybe you're right," he concedes.

"Of course I'm right," Black*Star scoffs. "Now off with you peon, I've got to warm up for my date."

He settles into a routine. Three times a week, Soul pulls on his gym clothes and pulls up a playlist before trudging over to the park, where he spends a half hour cursing out the little voice telling him when to walk and run. Sometimes Black*Star joins him, sharing entirely too much detail about his relationship with Tsubaki. Sometimes Tsubaki joins the both of them, which is always worse because of the extra details she adds to Black*Star's lewd stories.

Maka isn't always there at first - he still stops to watch her run past the coffee shop whenever he's on a morning shift - but when he mentions the times he's been running at, she starts to show up more often. She'll lap him with a cheerful shout and a wave, and he can't find it in himself to berate his slow pace when it means he's watching her from behind. Sometimes she'll loop back around after she's finished running around the park, joining him for his intervals.

His five minute cooldown walk begins to turn into a half hour walk around the block with Maka, and soon enough he's meeting her for long wandering journeys on the days he's not running. They explore the city together, sometimes chatting or arguing as they thread through back alleys and narrow side streets, sometimes not saying anything at all, just admiring the trees and buildings in a comfortable quiet. He never realized before how little he's seen of the city he's called home for the past three years. And seeing it through Maka's eyes is refreshing - where he notices litter on the ground, she calls his attention to an intricate, gothic design on the side of a building. He wrinkles his nose at squashed restaurants that look like the last time they were mopped was when the place was built; she orders Mexican food at a suspicious looking food truck and it ends up being the best taco he'd ever had.

They're walking down one of the areas a little outside of the old district. Maka's balancing on a short wall, teasing him that she's taller than he is as he looks up at her. Every once and a while, she gets a little wobbly and reaches out for his shoulder to steady herself. He grumbles half-heartedly, pretending to be annoyed to hide his pleasure at her brushing against him.

"Hey uh, Maka," he starts.

"Hmm?"

"I uh…" Crap, this was so much easier when he was practicing in his mirror, Black*Star's obnoxious remarks notwithstanding. He squares his shoulders. "I made you a playlist."

"You did?" she exclaims, hopping down in front of him.

Soul nods, and pulls out his phone and a pair of earbuds. "Here," he says, unlocking the phone and handing it to her. "You can listen. If you want. Or later, if you didn't want to now…"

She's already popped the headphones in her ears and is bopping along to the music. "Hey this is pretty good!" she says too loudly.

"Thanks," he mutters, pleased.

"What?"

"Thanks," he says louder as she takes an earbud out to hear him better.

"You should listen to my stuff too!" Maka shoves her phone at him. His heart skips a beat when he realizes her background photo is the selfie they took in front of a random statue of some short beaked thing with a cane and top hat. The two of them are smiling widely as they mimic the statues ridiculous pose, and his stomach does flip-flops as he loads up her music program.

"Wow," he says about halfway through a song. "This is…this is what you listen to?"

"Yeah! I love Owl City!" She hums a few bars for him, off-key. "Are you a fan too?"

"No way in hell," he says, wincing at the synthesized warble in the singer's voice.

As she punches him in the shoulder, he realizes suddenly how easy this all is - how he doesn't feel like clamming up around her, how he doesn't worry about saying the wrong thing or upsetting her. How he's slowly stopped thinking that she'll eventually realize that he's not that interesting, or bold, or as quick as she is, and will drop out of his life.

He pauses in the middle of the sidewalk. Maka walks on, but stops and turns back when she sees he isn't following. She pulls the earbuds out of her ear. "Soul?"

"Maka," he says, swallowing hard. 

She tilts her head.

Ladies love confidence, he reminds himself as he opens his mouth. "I…" He clears his throat. "I…uh…" His hands tremble, and he stuffs them in his pocket as he opens his mouth to try again. "You…I mean, I…like…"

"Soul?" She's looking at him in concern now, and he feels the last of his nerve die as she takes a tentative step closer. "Are you okay? What do you like?"

"I really like this song!" he blurts out, shying away from her.

Her face brightens. "You do?"

"Yeah, uh -" he checks the screen, “- Waving Out The Window? It's um, good."

"I have the whole album!" she exclaims. "I can lend it to you if you want!"

"That would be great," he lies, sending a mental apology to his eardrums.

The long, lonely walk home is spent in loud, berating contemplation. His internal dialogue, which sounds suspiciously like the voices of his parents and teachers, presents irrefutable evidence of his cowardice and utter incompetence. Soul has no choice but to agree that he is a disappointing waste of space, like he always does.

But something must be changing in Soul, because when he gets back to his apartment building and looks up to see the flashing light of the TV spilling outside of the living room window, he suddenly knows what he has to do.

Soul knows in about thirty seconds, he's going to regret what he's about to do. No - regret is too soft a word for what his future self is going to feel towards the present him. Loathe? Abhor? Detest? Maka would be proud of him with the number of synonyms he can conjure for his future emotional state.

Well, future him could suck it. Bastard is always taking advantage of the suffering present Soul is going through. Case in point - this whole ridiculous running plan.

"Black*Star, I need your help."

"Anything for you best bro," he replies, not even bothering to glance up from the video game he's playing.

"I like Maka."

Black*Star rolls his eyes. "Tell the world something it didn't know."

Soul ignores him. "But I don't want to say anything because…"

"You're chickenshit."

"Basically," Soul says, not even bothering to deny it this time. "I need you to keep me honest."

"Oh?" Black*Star pauses his game and turns around, finally invested in the conversation.

"When I can complete a full circuit around the park without stopping or dying, I'm going to ask her out." Soul had picked the goal very carefully - it was equally likely that he would give up completely, in which case he didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of her saying no to him, or that he would actually complete it, in which case he could play asking her if she'd go out with him as a celebration of his achievement.

Black*Star squints at him. "Still don't get why you can't do it now, but you do you bro. What do I get out of this?"

Here came the hard part. Soul takes a deep breath. "If I don't ask her out, you can pick my punishment."

"Really?" It's like Soul told Black*Star that Christmas was coming early this year, and the sudden gleam in his eyes has shivers running down his spine. "You're letting me decide."

"Yes."

"You remember what happened last time I passed judgement onto you."

"Yes," Soul grinds out, "how could I forget." He still wasn't welcome back at his favorite Italian restaurant.

Black*Star's ever widening grin is distinctly unreassuring. "Oh man. I can't decide now if I want you to succeed or not."

Soul scowls, and Black*Star cackles, throwing an arm around him. "I'm just joking, of course I'm pro-Soulie boy getting with his lady. Still though…"

"Well I'm going to do it, so don't think too hard," Soul snaps. Black*Star just raises an eyebrow at him, which makes Soul insist, "I am, I can already run for fifteen minutes without dying." Maybe just five minutes at a time, but whatever, technicalities.

"And I am proud of you for that, broseph. You and Maka are gonna be the sappiest, mushiest, cutest couple - after Tsubaki and me of course." He smacks Soul's back a couple of times, making him stumble and wince. "Don't worry bro. I got your back."

That's what Soul's afraid of, and exactly what he's banking on to get him to go through with something for once in his life.

"Yeah what can I get you?" Soul asks, squinting down at the filter he's cleaning.

"Hi Soul!"

His head whips up. Maka stands in front of him, dressed in a black trench coat that hides her workout clothes. Her elbows rest against the counter, gloved hands cradling her face as she gives him a smile that makes his face hot and his hands shaky.

"M-Maka!" He almost drops the filter, and tries to pass it off as him smoothly putting it down on the counter. "H-how did you know I worked here?"

Maka blinks. "Black*Star told me."

Like so many other moments over the past month, Soul wavers between wanting to strangle and wanting to high five his best friend.

"Oh!" Maka says, peering behind his shoulder. "You've got a great view of the park from here." She smiles at him, and he feels his heart thump painfully in his chest. "You must see Tsubaki and I run by pretty often huh?"

"No," he blurts out. "No, I uh, am usually too busy working to look outside." Fuck, why did he say that? It wouldn't have been that weird to just say he sees them, but would she have thought it was creepy? It was kind of creepy, honestly…

Maka hums noncommittally. "I see."

"Uh, did you want to order something?"

She orders a mocha. When Maka goes to pay, he shakes his head, pushing away her credit card. "On the house," he insists, ignoring her protests.

He takes his time to make the best damn mocha the shop's ever seen, and finishes it off by creating a little flower of steamed milk in the drink. He presents it to her with a flourish, and basks in her praise.

Unfortunately, she came at one of the busier times at the café and can't linger at the counter. She moves to one of the tables nearest to him and pulls out a book, and he sneaks glances at her while his hands are on autopilot making drinks for the customers.

That is, until -

"What's up Soul," Black*Star greets him. "The girls run by yet?" He fiddles with his phone, completely oblivious to the frantic aborting motions that Soul is making.

Maka looks up at the sound of Black*Star's voice, and Soul drops his arms, giving her a weak smile. "I wouldn't know Black*Star," he squeaks.

Black*Star snorts. "Yeah right, you stare out that window watching for Maka so much that someone could hold up the store and you wouldn't even notice."

"ANYWAY, what can I get you," Soul rushes to say, as Maka cocks her head curiously. "I'll pay," he says desperately, feeling a deep flush work its way down his neck.

Black*Star immediately brightens. "Awesome! Well in that case…"

After Black*Star leaves with his six dollar caffè macchiato, Maka sidles up to him.  "You're awfully generous to your friends Soul," she says, corner of her mouth twitching.

"Not really," he mutters, busying himself with wiping down the counter. "Just…just special ones."

"And Black*Star is one of them?"

"No," he spits out, "he's just really good at being annoying."

A pause, and then, "And me?"

Soul's heart hammers in his chest so loudly that he doesn't even hear himself when he mumbles, very quietly, "Special case." It only beats harder at the slow smile that spreads across her face.

The next day, Maka waves at him through the window as she runs past the store. Soul's hands dance between his face and his pockets before they compromise, one of them giving her a shy wave, the other one coming up to rub away a goofy grin.

Fall is winding down, and Soul can feel himself getting stronger, gaining stamina with every workout. He can't believe it's already been a month and a half since Black*Star dragged him into this fiasco. A month and a half of way too much sweat and exercise.

A month and a half since he was properly introduced to Maka - Maka, who he now knows uses books as both entertainment and as weapons - Maka, who hates raw fish and loves white chocolate - Maka, who texts him every night with a different grumpy cat gif, claiming they look exactly like him, who somehow always has some place new for them to explore, something new for them to look at. She's so much more than the attractive jogger he would stare at through the window, dreaming up scenarios where she would suddenly notice him and ask him out. So different from what he imagined her to be like - quieter and nerdier and more uncertain, but just as bold and strong and kind. Whatever happens - if he finishes, if he confesses - it doesn't matter as much as the fact that she's part of his life in some way.

His phone vibrates and dings as the automated voice announces that his workout is complete. He stops, breathing hard, and sits down on a bench, throwing his arms around the back and looking up to the deepening sky.

A crush. A workout. And at the beginning of all of it, a friend.

"Hey Black*Star."

"Hmm?" Black*Star pauses his one handed pull ups to look at Soul.

"I uh." Soul clears his throat awkwardly. "Wanted to uh, say…thanks for helping me out with Maka. I wouldn't, you know, have met her or anything if you hadn't…"

Black*Star flicks away his words. "Say no more dude. You know I've always got your back."

"Yeah," Soul confirms, "yeah I know. Still." He brings out an envelope from behind his back and offers it to Black*Star, who lets go of the bar to take it.

Black*Star pulls out two pieces of paper from the envelope. "What's this?"

"Uh, tickets. To the symphony. The one that you had wanted to take Tsubaki to for your one month anniversary and waited in line for tickets for five hours before being told they had just sold out?"

"No shit!" Black*Star's mouth drops open as he stares at the tickets. His eyes dart up to Soul and he squints, suspicious. "Wait, how did you get them?"

"Well I…kinda pulled a couple of strings…?"

"You…" Realization dawns in his eyes, and Soul shuffles his feet uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Soul confirms. "Yeah I uh, talked to Wes -”

"Wes, like, your brother Wes?"

"What other Wes would there be Black*Star."

"Wes, like, your perfect brother that you haven't talked to in a decade?"

"It's only been three years," Soul mutters. His ears still hurt from Wes' squealing when he answered the phone.

"What did he say when you called?"

Soul shrugs. "Not much," he lies, choosing not to tell him about how Wes alternated between crying and yelling and lecturing all while prying out every detail of his little brother's mundane life for two hours.

Black*Star hesitates. "And…your parents? Now that Wes knows where you are, are they gonna…?"

Soul blows out a sigh. "…They were gonna find out eventually." He stares at his hands - his precise, long fingers. Perfect for playing piano, his parents told him, over and over until he felt like that's all like they were good for, all he was good for. "…They can't really do much to me now anyway. And…it's like you said. I can't keep hiding forever."

Black*Star stares at the tickets in his hand before putting them back into the envelope as carefully as Soul's ever seen him handle something.

The scent of Axe body spray washes over Soul as Black*Star engulfs him in a hug, one that's made all the more awkward by the height difference between them. "You're the best bro a bro could have Soul," Black*Star sniffs.

"Yeah," Soul says, smiling as he pats his best friend's back. "You too Black*Star. You too."

"One minute left," the tinny voice encourages him. He clings to that as he rounds the bend. Just one minute. Before the end of this song is done it'll be over. Just keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop -

Ding! "Your workout is complete."

Soul slows to a stop, mind replaying the words.

"I did it," he says, disbelieving.

"I did it," he says again, and feels like shouting it, maybe even channeling Black*Star and adding a "yahoo!" at the end.

Black*Star and Tsubaki wave wildly from a bench halfway across the park as he looks over to them. Black*Star stands up on the bench, cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, "I TOLD YOU!"

Soul grins, shaking his head. Black*Star stabs a finger in the direction that Soul just came from. Soul turns around and -

There she is. She hasn't noticed him yet, looking at her phone, and Soul had specifically gotten here before her workout time so that he could bail out if he needed to but -

Maybe this is what they call runner's high, or maybe it's just Soul actually achieving something he never thought he'd even try doing for once, but he doesn't even need Black*Star's nod or shooing motion to send him off - he's already running towards Maka, calling her name.

She stops and waits for him, smiling. He pushes his muscles to run faster, and a tiny part of him marvels when his body obeys without complaint as he flies towards her.

He skids to a stop in front of her, only panting a little bit. The sun is filtering through the leaves and casting dappled shadows on her face, glinting gold off of her hair, and her eyes are bright and fond as she looks at him expectantly, and in that moment he wants to tell her - wants to tell her that he started this for her but finished it for him, wants to thank her for encouraging and supporting him and never making fun. He wants to tell her that he loves their early morning walks and late night texts, that he thinks she's amazing and smart and strong, that he probably never would have finished if she didn't make it more fun than torture, that he wants - that he loves -

"I like you please go out with me." Soul says in a rush.

Maka's face changes from fondness to confusion. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," he mumbles, resisting the urge to use his new stamina to run the fuck away.

"I…no? Sorry, you said it so fast, could you say it again?"

"Uh." Where was Black*Star and his menacing "you won't believe the things I have in store for you" grin when he needed it? Maka's looking at him curiously and god dammit past Soul was the absolute worst -

But he wasn't about to give up now. Soul takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, tries to look Maka in the eye but ends up sticking his gaze somewhere in the vicinity of her shoulder instead. "I like you," he says again. "And I've really enjoyed getting to know you. And I would like to take you out to dinner." Did he just say that? He just said that. "As a date," he clarifies. He's on a roll. "Though uh, you don't have to if you don't want to." Wait, wasn't he on a roll? "We could uh, just celebrate me actually being able to keep up with you." Apparently it was more of a slow tumble. "Or uh, not." Off of a cliff. "You know what, just ignore me -”

"I would love to go out on a date with you."

Soul looks up from his shoes. "R-really?" he stammers.

She nods, smiling. He takes a hesitant step forward, and she meets him halfway, drawing closer until their running shoes are almost touching. "I was actually thinking of asking you out tomorrow," she says, peering up at him shyly through her bangs. "But you beat me to it."

"I…I did?"

She's close enough now to bump him gently with her shoulder, sending a tingling buzz through his body. "I like you, dummy," she says, and that combined with the way she's grinning at him, looking a little shy and embarrassed herself, makes him feel like he's as light as air.

"So where do you want to go for dinner?" she asks, entwining her fingers in his.

"Well uh, I was thinking maybe that Lebanese place we found last week, you know, by the shoemaker?"

Her eyes light up, and then take on a mischievous look. "Race you there."

He smirks back, heart racing forward for once instead of shrinking back. "You're on."

She takes off, and he follows, knowing she'll outstrip him in a heartbeat, but that she'll be waiting patiently for him to catch up at the end. He lets her peel ahead and focuses instead on making the world turn beneath his feet, setting his own pace.

He'll get there eventually.

Thank you for reading! Comments and criticisms much appreciated!

[startwreck]

I’m going to attempt to recap Duchovny in Boston day (February 22, 2017.) Warning: this could get long and sappy because it’s 3 AM and I’m just brain dumping. Under a cut...

Woke up this morning think I would only go to the Bucky F*cking Dent reading/signing event. Had a ticket and I loved the book (read it / Audible’d it last spring) and thought secondhand embarrassment would be minimal in that setting. Great. Planned to cut out of work for a couple hours to go. As I’m walking to the venue, Jen @snowvitamins texted me, and through the magic of distinctive scarves, we were able to make our acquaintance. She was with Mer @damselindistressmya. Fun fact: In the course of trying to find each other, Mer was described as wearing “a Mulder season 10 jacket.” In my anxious and distracted state, I took this to mean that Mer was wearing a jacket with a likeness of Mulder in Season 10 on it (I pictured a varsity jacket, you know, with a leather torso and felted sleeves? and then just a giant Mulder head on the back of it.) Needless to say, I momentarily pondered hiding my scarf-marker. Luckily, I’m an idiot and Mer was wearing an Army jacket similar to the one Mulder wore in Season 10:

So the reading doesn’t happen. Not sure if this was due to the size of the turnout (we wouldn’t have all fit where they do their readings), time constraints, voice preservation, a rogue edible, or what (file under: none of my business.) I was excited to hear David read a chapter so I was briefly disappointed, but totally understand, would still follow the Booksmith and/or DD to the end of the earth.

Stand in line for a while and then it’s my turn. Give him the book with the post-it with my name in it. He pronounces my name correctly (as if I didn’t love him enough already) and I give a smile and say “yep.” He starts doing the inscription. My brain then says “fuck it; we’ll do it live” and I say “I really like the line, ‘Eighty-six years, a long and lucky life’” and tell him how my grandfather, a lifelong Red Sox fan, lived almost exactly those eighty-six years that he’s referring to, born in 1918 and passed in early 2005. I must have been looking down at the table/book when I said most of this, because when I return my gaze up to his face partway through this, he was giving me that Intense Eye Contact (TM), clearly flattered that someone quoted his own words to him. It was a solid looking-into-your-soul kind of stare, like he was trying to decipher who I was in a five second period (and I gladly would have given him my entire family’s social security numbers in that moment.) The man knows how to connect with an audience, that’s for sure (#ACTING.) At that point, either DD or the manager dude standing there  (I blacked out so not sure who it was) says, “So he got to see them win.” Downer that I am, I reply bluntly, “Well he had Alzheimer’s at the end so we’re not sure that he really knew.” Manager dude said something like “I’m sure he did” (aka “stop talking, crazy.”) I say “thank you” and make my exit. 

Now, had my Day of Duchovny ended there, my day still would have been made. But what happened over the course of the rest of the day was something special. It was a beautiful much-needed reminder of how the arts can connect pseudo-strangers in a magical way and how there is still goodness in humanity.

Over lunch with @snowvitamins, @damselindistressmya, and @myassbrokethefall​, we all come back down the earth. I learned that @myassbrokethefall​ almost accidentally had David sign a book about sheep herding and @damselindistressmya​ had a lover’s quarrel with him over basketball. We exchange details about “real life” and also discuss topics of fandom and Tumblr politics. It is lovely. They’re all going to the concert, I want to hang out with them more, and they promise I can hide behind them if I’m embarrassed, so I buy a concert ticket on my phone as we’re finishing lunch. It’s mezzanine-level so I can always sneak out or hide behind a seat, right?

I go back to work for literally two hours. I catch up on email but also flail to @dangerscully​ and @crossedbeams​, my transatlantic support team. Yes, you guys are a part of this story. Thank you for your support and sweet messages. Can’t wait til we unite. Let’s just meet halfway into the Atlantic, shall we? I’ll start paddling now...

After a solid two hours of work, it’s time to get our drink on. @stellagibsonisalifeforce and @x-files-behind-the-scenes joined the lunch crew for dinner/drinks pre-concert and they’re awesome too. Seriously, reminder that if you ever have the opportunity to meet Tumblr friends in “real life,” do it. I only have a couple drinks and I’m getting nervous that it won’t be enough to combat secondhand embarrassment. But I’m in it now. It’s happening. 

Thanks to @snowvitamins, @damselindistressmya, and @stellagibsonisalifeforce, I actually end up on the floor rather than up in the mezzanine. Go big or go home, right? We’re very close to the stage, just two or three rows of people in front of us. Pat, local boy from Watertown (”Wahtahtown” - DD) who’s in the band, opens. There’s a little break to reset the stage, and then the band comes on stage. I have my ear plugs in my hand, ready to go as DD joins them to wild applause. I’m pretty sure I said “ohgodohgodohgod” half under my breath for the first 1-2 songs. But then I realize something. He’s actually...good?...in person. Err, better. But his stage (and floor) presence, enthusiasm, give-no-fucks attitude, and ability to connect with the audience -- sometimes through Intense Eye Contact (TM) -- more than make up for the occasional flawed pitch. I imploded about two thirds of the way through when I experienced Intense Eye Contact (TM) via the Duchovs for the second time that day. It was during the a song that I had definitely never heard. I was listening and our eyes just met and he sang holding his gaze there for more than 10 seconds. It was seriously transformative. While his eye contact while signing said “Who are you?”, this look said “I know who you are.” Truly a religious experience (TM by @kateyes224.) Update three days later: I finally figured out what song this happened during. All I remembered was that the song had “can’t” in it and that one of the words during the Intense Eye Contact (TM) was “love.” After doing some detective work and familiarizing myself with the album, I have determined that it was “Another Day” in which my Intense Eye Contact (TM) occurred, around the end of the first verse and beginning of the first chorus:

Another home Some other love Another guy sent high above Some other lie, we tell ourselves Passing time before the bell

I can't live long enough To bring you around

After this moment that briefly made me believe that romantic love was a possibility for me, he moved on to work another area of the crowd (I saw a review that said he was really an equal-opportunity crowd-worker and I couldn’t agree more, though he won’t engage with you if you are chronically camera phone-ing -- which I love.) I turned around and briefly freaked out to @damselindistressmya​ (”that was directed at me”) before returning my attention to the stage and really getting into singing along with the “Ooh oohs” since I didn’t know any of the other words. Not that I’m biased by that experience or anything, but after listening to the album for a couple days (trying to relive the memories), “Another Day”

My other favorite moment came when David came off the stage onto the floor during one song. We’re all dancing up a storm but @damselindistressmya was closest to the action so I gave her a friendly push into the splash zone and stay on the perimeter (apparently crowd control is a secret talent of mine?) I can’t see what’s going on exactly, but a few seconds later, Mer emerges, walking/dancing/shimmying backwards towards the stage, followed by David, who’s doing the same moves, but facing forward, towards the stage. In other words, they are face to face having a dance-off right in front of me. After a few steps of their impromptu tango, Mer somehow has the wherewithal to peel off to the side gracefully to allow David a path back up on stage. It was seriously a work of art. I'm not sure how Mer survived because I’m still not sure how I did, and I was merely a witness. I can’t draw for shit but I felt the need to produce an artist’s rendering of what unfolded before me (style inspired by @jamofappreciation):

Other concert highlights:

@stellagibsonisalifeforce​ and @snowvitamins​’ love of band member Jeff (that eventually we all got in on.) He did have a great blazer (not quite as awesome as DD’s hooded number though. Good work, Nancy.)

Making new friends between Pat opening and the main event. New friends = Alexa & Scott, I think?

David dedicating a song to band member (and opener) Pat’s grandfather, who was there at 80-something years old. They pointed him out and he stood out and everyone clapped for him. Adorable!

Singing Happy Birthday to band member Colin. We were terribly out of tune. I’d like to think this put DD at ease because he realized we were also pitch-impaired.

David showcasing each of the band members individually during one song (”Sweet Jane,” maybe?), going over to each one individually and putting a hand on their shoulder while they played and just being the sweetest father-figure-esque thing ever

Dad dancing for days. I tried to mirror all his moves. Ended up sweating nearly as much as him and my calves hurt for two days after.

David talking about the best political songs are the ones that aren’t political until they suddenly are / need to be

They recorded the album in Boston and many (all?) of the band members are from Berklee, so it’s special for them

Intro’ing his new song “Half-Life” as “It has science in it”

Boston-accenting “Stars” to “Stahs”

Discussing the merits of traveling by train (very Biden-esque and I loved it)

A lot of sweat. At one point I noticed a bead a sweat drip off his face onto the floor. I wanted to live inside that moment forever.

Full band in pussy hats for the encore

Everyone singing along to “The Weight”

Everyone singing along to the chorus of “Hell or Highwater” (I said I’d love you forever, come hell or highwater / Well, babe the flood’s in)

Lots of genuine gratitude (holding his hand to his chest), especially during the closing “Thank you”

Also got to wave to @thattimetheykissed before the concert and say hi after the concert. Great to meet you! 

Special thanks to @campaignofmisinformation for starting the Sunday night re-watches that brought so many of us together. The entire day was just the embodiment of @ihavefeministbones’ recent A+ character development post. Seriously, we were quoting it at every turn. Thanks to everyone who made this day unexpectedly great! I’m off to sleep for probably three hours and then will wake up thinking this was all a dream. Please pinch me tomorrow (err, later today.) 

[livemind]

“Retain Mystery.”

Live Mind Blog #2

Posted: 02/01/2017

Welcome!

     Thank you for your interest in the Live Mind blog! If you're a returning reader, welcome back. If you're here for the first time, welcome! Have you had the chance to check out the last blog? The feedback was amazing and I can't thank you all enough for inspiring me to write another!

     Live Mind now has an official Instagram! I will be posting announcements, behind the scenes work, sneak peeks, and other work to motivate creativity. If you'd like to receive these exclusive updates, click here and follow the blog!

     This edition is a bit different from the last. Two more sections have been added: Loud Looks and Dream Support. That's right, the Dream Support section is officially here. Literally, right here:

Dream Support:

     Fernie Mac is a 22 year-old photographer. He’s always been interested in photos, film, and art, but recently started taking his photography more seriously thanks to the inspiration from a friend. Fernie has made an effort to learn what it takes to take good photos and invested in a better camera. That investment sparked even more of his passion for photography, capturing moments such as these:

     “Follow your heart, chase your dreams. Anything is possible.”

     ~ Fernie Mac

     Fernie has a very creative and open mind. I’ve been following his project for quite some time now and he never ceases to amaze. He has a lot more to offer and I highly encourage any of you artsy people to check him out on Instagram!

     I really hope someone new can be featured here in every blog from now on. I can't do it without your submissions, so please continue to spread the word and create wonderful things!

For more information regarding submissions, check out the Let Me In On This! section.

New Noise:

     Taxi For Bob are from a town called Barnsley in South Yorkshire, England. The band started in 2013, covering songs by Green Day and Blink-182. They have an energetic, upbeat, pop-punk sound with very catchy melodies that you can’t help but sing along to.

     Their members are Tom Jackson, Alex Bower, and Mattie Jones. Some of their musical influences include: Good Charlotte, Alkaline Trio, Ramones, and Stiff Little Fingers. Regarding future plans, Taxi For Bob would like to take it as far as it can go.

     “We’re not doing it for the success, we all just love doing it. But it would be amazing if we could get any kind of career out of it.”

     ~ Alex Bower

     After hearing their single “If You’re Not Dreaming, You’re Just Sleeping”, I was immediately pleased with the message of the song and reached out to Alex to find out more about the band. If you’re interested, I urge you to check out Taxi for Bob and follow them to stay updated on their project:

Bandcamp: taxiforbob.bandcamp.com/releases

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/taxiforbob

Amped artists:

By: Mallery Lewis, Age: 20

     This awesome illustration of Tyler Carter (vocalist of the band Issues) was made by Mallery Lewis. She’s a 20-year-old artist from Ohio and has been drawing all her life, continuing to progress with art as she got older. “My mom was a big inspiration because she’s a very creative person and I watched her paint a lot as a kid,” states Mallery. With that being said, I believe she’s a great example of a little inspiration going a long way.

     Mallery is currently going to school to become a graphic designer. She hopes to work in that field as well as sell her traditional art on the side. With these goals as her focus, we can all be sure she will succeed! There’s way more art where this came from. Check out more of her work here!

Loud Looks:

This section will feature unique fashion, hair, clothing, diy, and more!

     We all know fashion is another great way of expressing yourself. Why follow the trends when you could stand out? We aren’t ordinary. We are not duplicates. We are custom-made.

     Chantelle has been crocheting for about 4 years. She’s made blankets, scarves, hats, and more. Very recently, she was inspired to start selling her work online, opening a shop on Etsy called Cozy Little Owl Crochet.

     In her shop, you will find winter gear such as hats and scarves. Chantelle plans to add more products very soon, including coasters, baskets, and blankets. You can even get items customized!

     Stay warm and cozy this season with some amazing hand made threads by Cozy Little Owl Crochet:

Store: https://www.etsy.com/shop/cozylittleowlcrochet

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cozylittleowlcrochet/

Live Minds:

Dane, Content Creator

     Dane, (a.k.a. StraightEdgeDane) is a 16 year-old from England. He enjoys turning clips of film into a work of art and posts his work on Youtube. This straight-edge kid is full of innovative ideas and imagination. Dane is also a big fan of pop-punk and alternative music genres, as well as pro wrestling. He plans to make more videos involving those passions along with other mini-films and skits.

     “I want to become a film producer and take up Pro Wrestling training as a hobby once I finish education,” states Dane. He posts videos in 4k and will continue to do so in the near future. I believe he can go as far as he desires, and even further with support from others. Show your support and check out his videos!

     This aesthetically pleasing lyric edit and photo was done by Isabella. She is a 17 year-old senior in high school. Within the past year, she took a photography class which led her to conclude that photography really makes her happy.

     “I’ve always sort of been drawn to the arts. I remember seeing Adam Elmakias’ photos and I thought how cool it would be to do what he does.”

     ~ Isabella

     Isabella recently started taking portraits of her friends around downtown Nashville and would like to continue photography as a hobby. She even hopes to eventually start photographing some local bands! She’s definitely on the right track. Follow her progress and find more of her work here.

Do It Now, Thank Me Later:

     In the last edition of Live Mind, I encouraged you all to dedicate a week to focusing on an idea of yours that deserved more attention and growth. How did you do? Personally, I decided to take this Live Mind blog more seriously. After discovering that people actually submitted content for it, I was extremely thrilled and I realized that this is more than just a mental project. This is really happening. These results have inspired me to say yes to more opportunities of growth and I must say, I've been happier and more confident.

Challenge #2: Do something that scares you a bit.

     Stop saying no and talking yourself out of the opportunites that could potentially get you exactly where you want to be. You don’t know what you could be missing. So, why not find out? You’ll likely be surprised at you results!

If you believe your story will inspire others in some way, tell me all about it at livemindmag@gmail.com. It may be featured in an upcoming blog!

Get Inspired:

     This poem creates scenery. Picture it as you read:

-Untitled-

You came into my life a subtle thoughtful breeze Joy and laughter quickly overtook me I became slave to your refreshing sound Each gust retrieved a part of me The warmth of your temperament cleansed the air bringing freedom as I inhale Into open hands I placed keys to doors long forgotten sacred places locked away Long betrayed by the others Places beyond the stairs beyond the walls and painted columns You'd trek through bitter winds Over broken pieces enduring hailstorms with nothing but trueness as a shield Endless volumes could not contain what's meant to be shared If hearts could speak do they give themselves away? Reveal the secret, or retain mystery. A lifetime of tomorrow's full of wonderment & surprise From shadowy mornings wrapped in haze...then Moon-glow spotlight to capture the effortless sway of the night It's rhythm is a pulse, the rhythm a passion The rhythm is a dance....with love its serenade.

     ~PoetryNPain

     The writer of this poem chose to remain anonymous, which actually inspired the title of this blog. Retain a little mystery in your creativity. Not only will others keep wanting more, but you will too!

Thank You:

Thank you so much for reading this edition of Live Mind. I honestly feel extremely fortunate being able to put out a second blog. That’s only thanks to your support! I’m very grateful for that and your spreading the word. I hope to see you in the next one. Until then, keep it live. Dream louder.

Let Me In On This!:

Got a style that stands out? Tell me more!

Submissions: send info to livemindmag@gmail.com.

Questions/Feedback: comment below or message me on Instagram  @livemindmag.

Find Me Elsewhere:

YouTube. Instagram. Tumblr. Pop Punk Amino.