#second: that boy is so white he looks he’s starting become naturally ashy

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Leona as soon as he wakes up from Malleus’s spell:

[greywritesfics]

One Day At A Time

Overview: The moment you first saw Shinso’s performance at the first year Sports Festival set off a chain of fateful interactions and an unrequited declaration of rivalry. Now, as you stand hand in hand with your husband-to-be, you can’t help but think back to everything that brought you here. 

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Word Count: 3741

Genre: Scenario, Fluff 

A/N: I had so much fun writing this for the POCuties Server Collab: ‘A Wedding to Remember!’ My heart went binkie boom doom. I hope you all enjoy best boi Shinso!! And thank you to @tui-lah​ for beta reading, I appreciate it! You can find the rest of everyone’s amazing works here.

The flowers entwined between your fingers twinge with sweat from your palms as the beating of your heart ran a mile a minute. Exhaling a breath, you briefly glanced at the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers before the double doors broke you from your reverie. On either side stood your best friend, Mina, in a beautiful gown that accentuated her figure, and Kaminari, your husband-to-be’s best friend. 

Mina beamed, the black sclera of her eyes twinkling as she caught onto the small sigh of contentment that left your lips as you basked in the physique of the love of your life in a tuxedo at the end of the peddle-filled aisle. The light reflected from the vibrant bouquet, which made you look dazzling in the spotlight. Carrying on an otherworldly trance before the two left your side, not before the blonde sent you subtle thumbs up. 

Facing your groom, your eyes roamed his figure, giving him a once-over. The tuxedo hugged him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim build. The black of his suit had a velvet quality to it, and brought something out of him, a self-respecting pride and confidence that had you nibbling your bottom lip. 

“Oh, hello, Mr. Bond,” you whispered with a cheeky grin. You couldn’t help yourself, Shinso looked like the perfect action man with a license to thrill. His typically messy indigo hair was slicked back, or at least tried to be, you had to give him an ‘A’ for the effort. You peaked at the tips that were haphazardly pushed back, intertwining into a beautiful chaos-- you’d fix it later into his naturally ruffled tufts. 

You heard a breathy snort from the man across you. Looking up, your eyes latched onto an all-too-familiar pair of glaciers that resembled hyacinths and the lazy-smirk that had the corner of your eyes softening. 

Shinso reaches out to you as soon as the one to wed you both begins to speak, his calloused hands holding yours. It’s funny actually, as you gaze at your intertwined hands and the paleness of his skin of how the two of you ended up in the aisle together, rings readied to be worn, and a life promised to spend together forever.

You remembered it like it was just yesterday.

After his fight with Midoriya during the first year Sports Festival, you left the stands to find the General Studies student in the hall. Luckily for you, you saw him in no time, the striking lavender hair and familiar U.A. uniform that he wore was hard to miss. You quickly fell into step with his languid steps.

“Shinso Hitoshi, right? I’m (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

With his ashy lilac and deeply sunken eyes, he faced you with a bored expression on his face. “Okay.”

The two of you walk in silence for at least a few minutes, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck before he speaks. “Uh--” he clears his throat a little awkwardly, “why are you following me?” It was a simple question, not one that harbored an accusing tone, and you were almost shocked by the fact that he made no effort to chase you away.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, smacking your forehead, having forgotten to announce the reason why you followed him in the first place. “My bad, dude, I can’t believe I forgot. You’re my rival.”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, his pace slowing even more until they stopped. 

“Rival, y’ know where two people compete for the same objective or superiority.”

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, “I know what a rival is, but why are you declaring that you’re mine.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You thought that at this point, it was obvious enough for him to catch on. Maybe he was a bit slow; the bags under his eyes may have killed a couple of brain cells over the years. “‘Cause we have the same goal,” you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “We want to prove everyone who doubts us wrong.” Mich like him, growing up with an ‘evil’ Quirk, you’ve had a fair share of gossip surrounding you. That’s why you wanted to be a hero, to end the discrimination against labeling Quirks as villainous. 

“Really?” he paused, “what would a student from the heroics course know about being deemed as a criminal.” One look into his eyes, and you already knew. The bitterness in his orbs was unmistakable.

“More than you know,” you murmured, refusing to break eye contact. 

The mauve haired boy’s uninterested expression softened at the dispute in your eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small grin. Looking at you properly this time, like he really saw you as a person, not just some random stranger that decided to follow him around.

“Sorry, but no,” Shinso stated, the usual indifference lacing his tone, the smile falling from his face. “I’m not looking to make friends or rivals.”

You giggled mischievously at him, the purple of his eyes side-eyeing you with weariness. “You’re cute,” you state bluntly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. His expression is replaced with a gawk at the pure boldness from you, red splotching on the apple of his cheeks. “You actually think you have a choice! See ya soon, rival!” 

With that, you turn on your heel, searching for your homeless-looking homeroom teacher. You have the perfect recommendation for an intern.  

“(L/N)?” he demanded, stunned by your sudden appearance.

You turned your head from your position on the floor, stretching, glancing toward his direction. “Hey, rival.” The boy looked slightly different from the last time you had seen him, with a bandage-like material wrapped around his neck, similar to Aizawa’s.

Hopping onto your feet, you brushed the dust off your hands, walking onto the mat placed in the middle of the gym as Aizawa spoke up. “Shinso, you’re training with (L/N) today. It’s a joint training to access your weaknesses, first to get knocked down or pushed off the mat loses,” he said, his expression never changing.

Bending down a bit, you prepared to make a move before the boy with lavender hair stopped you in your footsteps. “How the hell did you get Aizawa-sensei to agree to this?” he asked with an amused look in his eyes. 

Smirking, you peered up through your lashes, looking at him with faux innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yes, you do. At the Sports Festival, you told Aizawa about the general studies student, but Aizawa was already aware of the male since he had taken note of him. Unsurprisingly to you, your teacher decided to mentor the student, and it took a lot of bribing and coaxing for you to convince him to join just one training session, but that’s all you needed. 

You stiffened immediately, your eyes glazing over as you become immobile, not even able to process or think properly. You watch the white of your rival’s teeth move, and the next thing you know, you blink, conscious, and off the mat. The stoic male wore a bored expression on his face as your eyes widen in realization, he just brainwashed you. 

It was as if a match sparked over you as you glared at him. Lunging forward instantly, taking the purple-haired boy by surprise, you brought your leg up to kick him in the shin as he lost balance. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, you pounced, both arms wrapping around his torso as you tackled him, or at least tried to. It seemed that Aizawa had been training his student well because the tackle didn’t do anything besides move him backward. Quickly, you leaped back, creating a space.

The boy’s ruffled hair from his night’s sleep and current fight had strands sticking together, slick with sweat. “What, that’s all you got?” Shinso asked, but you bit back a sharp remark, refusing to take the bait again. 

Failing to evade the knee that came straight for your abdomen, the impact knocked you back slightly but lacked to knock you down. You were taken aback by his speed and accuracy, and for a second, you wanted to smile at the growth of the male that stood in front of you, it was like he wasn’t the same boy that had lost to Midoriya. 

Focusing on the match at hand, you dodged his next onslaught of attacks, moving efficiently to evade them with the slight knowledge of his fighting style from the Sports Festival. Thanking yourself for forcing all those hours you spent training your physical abilities, you moved forward the moment you noticed Shinso starting to take labored breaths from his never-ending assaults. However, before you could even register what was happening, Shinso loosened the material around his neck, effectively capturing you amid some ridiculously strong bandages. With the help of the capture tape, he swung you around, gathering momentum before releasing you. Before you were thrown off the mat, though, you grabbed the white scarf and pulled yourself safely in bounds. 

With record speed, you raced across to meet Shinso, the capture material moving forward to shield its wielder from an attack, but you abruptly shot your arm up, tensing the male’s muscles you pushed it out of your way, continuing your route to the lilac haired male. Using your remaining strength before your sight dotted from vertigo, a drawback to your Quirk, you used both of your arms to grasp onto his, crouching you flip him over. 

Falling flat on the mat, you heaved a breath and closed your eyes to regulate the spottiness surrounding you. When you heard shuffling, you peaked an eye open, pointedly-eyeing the hovering male. 

“You’ve gotten better,” you commented. 

Shinso let out a soft chuckle. “You’re not half bad,” he countered, crossing his arms before adding, “besides when you became a sore loser and just hopped back in here without a word.”

You gave him a non-threatening pointed look, “hey! I forgot about the brainwashing bit for a second there. Can you blame me?”

Scoffing, you took his outreached hand and pulled yourself up with his combined effort. 

“I mean for a rival, that was just sad,” mused Shinso, running a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random directions, suiting him. 

The corners of your mouth lifted up into a smile, a slight stinging sensation from the cut on your lip from the fight somehow, but you didn’t care as your smile widened into a brilliant grin since Shinso finally acknowledged you. “Rival, huh?” you laughed, feeling absolutely delirious. 

After Shinso acknowledged you as his rival, you both became training partners and soon enough close friends. Before either of you knew it, you were already in your second year at U.A., and your purple-haired friend had been accepted into the hero course. 

You’re not exactly sure when you started developing feelings for the boy. Maybe it was the moment he exposed his perfectly aligned teeth, glowing with happiness and hope. Or it was his innate ability to spark a conversation with anyone, despite having a reserved and calm attitude. Even stating that he had no interest in making friends, yet you swiveled your way in and surrounded him with support, along with Kaminari, the greenette, Midoriya, and even the cerulean blue-eyed Monoma. Or it’s his aspiration to usurp anyone who walked the same path as him to become a Pro. Either way, there was no denying the flutters roaming around in your stomach. 

As you heaved, trying to catch your breath,  your exercise friend was doing the same, but talking about something, you weren’t really paying attention to his words. Just hearing his voice made your stomach tingle and your heart beat erratically in your chest so hard that it felt it’d burst. You followed the beads of sweat trickle down his face and run onto his lips, focusing how the red of his tongue would peak out to catch the salty droplets. 

When your eyes met, you swore that your heart thumped so hard that it was audible, even for him. His eyes, those deep magenta orbs that could tell a whole story just by looking at them, felt like you were injected with liquid adrenaline into your bloodstream, and the entire zoo grew rampant in your chest. Shinso’s cat-like eyes felt like looking into the sun for too long-- a maze you could get lost in and soon enough be blinded by. He was so effortlessly looking handsome. 

And his hands. The same slender ones that have been on you time and time again, training after training. The image of his hands brushing against your own as you walk flickers throughout your mind, growing into a daydream of your own intertwining. Suddenly you speak, “Hitoshi, I like you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your confession, mouth ajar, and hand frozen on his capture material. The intensity of his gaze put a crack in your steely disposition as you glance the other way. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to say anything, I just wanted to get that off my chest. 

You watched as Shinso grinned, shaking his head in disbelief, his arm rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t one to smile much, never having much reason to and the fact that it took too much effort. But every time you spoke, you somehow made the corners of his mouth tug upwards each time. You didn’t merely speak words with no meaning behind. With every word you spoke, they were curt, straight to the point, and your conversations didn’t need the time-consuming falsehood of small talk. So, it was no surprise when you bluntly admit your feelings to your crush. 

Like you promised, you never forced Shinso to speak up about your confession, not once asking if he felt the same way. You guys’ relationship continued to grow without a hitch, but that never stopped you from making flirtatious remarks with the male from time to time. A cheeky grin permanently painted across your face every time you were with him. 

Scrambling up to your feet, you hurriedly made your way over to him despite your aching muscles. Clasping your hands around his neck in a chock-hold, you used your legs, dropping him on the ground right then and there.

“What were you saying about beating me?” you asked, laughing in between pants. 

After three years of regular quirkless and quirkful combat with Shinso, you both had improved drastically every battle with one another. It took you everything to drop him over your shoulder like before, but you collapsed on the ground next to him, panting as soon as you did. 

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Shinso retorted, looking at you. Picking up on your exhaustion, he rolled over, immediately entrapping you with his weight as he grabbed both arms with his own, pinning you down. 

“That’s not fair! The match was already over,” you pouted, however made no effort to push him off. He grinned, breathing out, his breath fanning over your face. It took mere seconds for him to realize the close proximity of your two faces, his own heating up, instantly taking on a rose hue. He hastily scrambled off of you, looking away as he tried to calm his face. 

“Damn, I was hoping to be wrapped in your arms for longer,” you teased, whipping a fake tear delicately from your face. 

He coughed at your words, choking on the water as his head snaps at you from the comment, hints of pink still present on his cheek. “Huh? Wha--”

“Relax,” you scoffed, propping yourself up with your elbows. “I’m just fucking with you.” As you made your way to your bags that were thrown onto the floor, you patted the male’s toned back as to acquiesce that everything’s alright. But before you can maneuver around him, Shinso’s hand latches itself on your wrist.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling you toward him. You make no move to pull away, feeling safe and secure in his arms, not the edge of intensity that comes with dancing with danger in your daily life as a hero-in-training. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning into Shinso’s embrace, even more, an affectionate smile on his face. 

He tugs your cheek softly. “I like you too.” You stay silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushes against the skin he just pulled, and fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, you find yourself leaning into his palm, the ends of your lips tipping up slightly. You two focus on one another’s eyes, and all your common sense shuts down because the attention he’s giving you his startling, the vibrant violet of his orbs near closer, stealing your breath. 

You brought your hands to the back of his neck, and in an instant, his lips found yours with a content sigh. Your eyes flutter shut, and even in darkness, you see light exploding. Although his movements were gentle and slow, his lips were firm, the two of you moving in perfect sync, sending shivers down your back. With each move, the blurred lines of your friendship beginning to clear, forming something new entirely. Parting your lips, you sighed as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, his lips plump and red. 

Fluttering your eyes open, you find Hitoshi wearing a sweet smile on his face, filled with affection. His smile was one of happiness growing, much like spring flowers. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. While your heart was pounding, and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you, the silly smile never fell from your face.  

“Finally.”

You and Shinso have been dating for five years now, debuting and growing as Pro Heroes. As time passed, your love for him got even stronger. Whenever he looked at you, it was like every ounce of air was taken from your lungs, floating in the sky like a midnight smoke cloud. Every time your lips tangled, the world would stop, leaving just the two of you wandering the earth together. When the two of you cuddle, and he holds your face between his hands, it’s like he’s keeping you in an eternity of security.

When the two of you were patrolling the streets, you came across chaos and panicked citizens. In the distance, there were flickering flames that hinted something deadly. 

“Stay near me, (Y/N), and be careful,” Hitoshi announced as you catch up to his hurried pacing, nodding in acknowledgment, walking right into the heat of battle. The scene you were met with was unlike the disarray clues you had witnessed from the running citizens earlier. 

All around, you could see the burning of bright orange flames as they devoured everything in their path. Your nose scrunched up in alarm from the smell of charred concrete and ash as they dusted the air. The moment you observed your surroundings, you wished you hadn’t. You narrowed your eyes as a menacing creature hovered around a horde of panicked civilians that desperately tried to scramble away. The beast had an ugly beak head with wings and extra limbs, and bloodlust radiating out of its beady eyes. It’s what every Pro has been acquainted with, a Nomu.

“Ready?” he grunted, quickening his pace to match yours. 

“Always,” you answered, reaching out an arm, and in an instant, you immobilized the Nomu-like creature grasping hold of one of the unfortunate bystanders, your boyfriend running by you with his capture scarf in tow. 

You rushed over to the person ungracefully falling with its captor. Grabbing the man’s arm, you slung him over your shoulder as you hauled him to safety. The man gasped out a thank you, slumping over a wall a fair distance away from the fighting, trying to catch his breath. 

When you ran back into action, you and Hitoshi captured villains, the Nomu, and protected citizens. Multiple other heroes had arrived at the scene at this point, and the creature had been dragged out of by policemen, sirens echoing down the streets.

You had been rambling to your boyfriend about your costume, mentioning that you’d need to see Hatsume soon for some upgrades, but as you glanced over at him, you recognized the far offness in his eyes. 

“Hitoshi?” you ask with furrowed brows, snapping your finger in front of him.

He blinks, his hands finding purchase around your waist. He pulls you closer as he nudges his head between your neck, and you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. Pulling back slightly, he reaches for your hands, interlocking them. A light smile adorned your face as you looked into his unblinking dark purple eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Now, as you stand in front of your soon to be husband, you feel the way your heartbeat picks up while your lungs fill with more air, but at the same time, you feel incredibly light. This is it. You’re seriously going to marry the love of your life. 

There is so much to admire about him like his raw honesty. The way his words spill out real slow as if the truth can take its time. There’s like a force behind them, yet the kind that is respectful and quiet-- an observant and patient determination. He supports your pure, unadulterated personality, the good and bad. But of everything, it was looking in his eyes you loved the most. That’s all you ever needed to connect, just you and him, eyes, no words.

“You may now kiss.”

Shinso ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him, placing both hands on either side of your face. You two share a brief but deep kiss, yet you two are still grinning afterward as cheers from friends and families surround the two of you like magic, causing you to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy. 

In a world of chaos, the two of you find a place where togetherness means peace, where savage winds cease, and no clouds can block the warmth of the brightening rays. 

And neither of you would want to have it any other way. 

[monochromemedic]

Ashy Slashy

“What is that Ash?” “A long story, look for some reason that damn sky spider took all my hands and left me with this. Luckily it works... somehow.” He huffed raising the felt puppet on his hand and moving it’s mouth open and closed. “Listen if it starts saying shit, it ain’t me and you gotta cut this thing off pronto, you got me?” I stared into the black button eyes of the muppet, noticing how it was modeled directly after the man holding it. “So... it’s alive?” “Deadite, but I don’t know if those things are ‘alive’. Frankly I don’t give a shit, they all should be dead but the world ain’t perfect.” He grumbled twisting his hand towards himself to look the creature in the eyes. “You hear me? You should be dead buddy.” Silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I tried to picture what exactly this thing could do that was dangerous.  With all the stories Ash told, even the most mundane things could become dangerous when possessed by Evil. But those things usually transformed or had a dangerous quality to them already, some supernatural strength or claws and fangs. Unless this thing would suddenly grown bones, it’d have to be a rather weak demon wouldn’t it? Then again, that’s usually how these things work, they’d prey on your naive nature, your fears, every weakness you had, that was the deadites strength.  The night seemed to carry on without much trouble. Not a single sound from the puppet’s mouth despite the glares, insults and abuse from Ash to try to get it to talk. It was obvious he was paranoid, then again why wouldn’t he be. A deadite on your hand that you had to have or else be left without a limb. Sure he could have taken it off but having to be ready to run off into the fog at a moments notice to fight for your life was probably a good reason to take a risk, that or he couldn’t.... A few times I saw him walk off to the darkness, out of the light of the campfire to pull and yank at the puppet to no avail. He’d eventually sigh and go to the bathroom or return to the soft bustle of activity, acting like nothing had happened. As the ‘night’ carried on people began to settle in, grabbing their sleeping bags, ripped up mattresses or walking off into wherever the campfire had put us to find a place to sleep. Usually it was somewhere with enough stray objects to entertain ourselves, or something we could call our own private area at least until the campfire moved us to another campfire in another realm. I grabbed my blankets and pillows, settling down besides Ash’s stained mattress for the night. Ash’s chest rose and fell in monotonous motions, his face caught in a strange scene of peace. I smiled, beginning to close my eyes only to catch the shape of the puppet staring directly at me. A wave of discomfort flooded my senses and my brows knitted anxiously. He couldn’t be alive. Ash was trying all day to get him to speak, and deadites usually break a few minutes in. I just had to relax, I was just getting paranoid. “You got a staring problem toots?” My eyes shot back towards the puppet, it’s head now tilted at an angle it wasn’t at before.  Oh god Ash wasn’t crazy... “Well? I know I’m the most handsome guy around but unfortunately I’m not into fatties. But if I turn my head now maybe I can make it work...” He spoke, his pacman mouth opening and closing with every word. I’d feel insulted, well I did, but if what Ash said as true and he was a Deadite they preyed on the weakness of others.  “Why are you speaking now? You didn’t seem to speak to Ash all day.” I hissed, remembering Ash’s words to kill it as soon as it talked. As much as I’d love to tak his word, if what I saw was true Ash couldn’t get him off, and so I’d have to make a bit of a scene to try. And what to pry him off with was another question I didn’t have the answers to at the moment. “Like I could speak to him, not since what happened last time. It was like a bad break up, real messy.” The puppet smacked his chainsaw hand against Ash’s nose, moving the real Ash’s arm in the process. How the hell did he do that? How much control did he have over Ash? “So you gonna take me up on the deal? I’ve had to hold this guy’s dick in my mouth when he pissed, a guy could use a little stress relief. A motorboat would really get my motor running~” The puppet shook his head, making a loud motor boating sound as it lurched forward. I quickly grabbed it’s head and pushed it back, alarmed by how fast this thing could move. “Get the hell away from me you creep, you should be lucky I haven’t killed you by now.” “You really gonna listen to Ash’s tall tales. He’s probably going through dementia, he can’t remember what he had for breakfast. However, I know alot.” I raised a brow, sitting up from my collections of blankets and pillows. “What are you on about?” “I got a direct line to Ash’s twisted mind. Every and any dark secret you ever wanted to know from the man, I could give you for a low price.”  “...Any secret?” “Any. Secret. And oh boy does this guy keep em. First kiss, most embarrassing moment, what he’s packing... it’s all yours. All we gotta do is make a deal.” I turned away from the deadite, reaching for my glasses to hopefully find something to pry this guy off. “Sorry but I don’t make deals with demons. Those are Ash’s secrets. If he wants to tell me them, he can of his own free will. Also you could just lie or kill me before telling me anything so.” I moved towards the fire, picking up a nearby stick and lightening the end in fire before returning to the deadite, my hand wrapping around it’s neck tightly. The puppet began to squirm, arms wiggling in panic as the burning wood approached Ash’s arm. “Okay, Okay no deal, I’ll tell you straight up just let me stay on his nub! Don’t you wanna know how he feels about you?” Ashy Slashy squealed, desperation in every movement he could muster. I felt my hand pause, eyes shifting over to the sleeping figure just a few inches away. “He thinks you’re a pathetic little BITCH!” The muppet roared, it’s eyes now white, mouth full of razor sharp teeth. The creature managed to move it’s head in just the right position to sink it’s fangs into my hand causing me to yelp and jerk my hand away in pain. It didn’t let go, and pulled the still sleeping Ash along with him. Was he just a heavy sleeper or was it something unnatural, a forced sleeping state that Ashy Slashy put on him? My eyes darted around the area, at the lack of survivors around us except for Jeff a few feet away. Damn it why was he a heavy sleeper? “Ash wake up! Ash!”  “Too late babycakes, his body is all mine. Been working my way to his noggin all day~” The body jerked and with a sudden jolting movement  Ash sat up, his head slowly turning to face me despite his closed eyes. No way, was Ash really gone? No... no that couldn’t be, Ash survived hell and back, no way a stupid felt puppet was the one to do him in. The real Ash’s other arm shot out, gripping my shirt to pull me closer to his body. Ash could easy over power me, one hand or not. I still had a chance, I still had the stick. But where to aim? If the puppet really did have full control over Ash, would trying to jolt him awake by burning him do anything? I gripped the stick hard, using all my strength to pierce the puppet’s eye with the burning wood. A spurt of blood erupted from the socket, staining the felt and earning a scream from the bastard. A scream that lasting just long enough for it’s teeth to dislodge from my hand. I yanked the stick from the creature and began to scramble for Jeff, managing to grab the edge of his sleeping bag just as Ash’s arm wrapped around my leg, yanking me towards the fire pit. “You dumb whore, I was gonna go easy on you!” Ashy hissed, pushing my bare foot into the embers of the pit, causing a scream to rip from my chest. “Mmm, flame broiled bitch. My favorite!” The pain was intense and every second longer my foot stayed in the fire, the more I could feel the nerve endings begin to die, the smell of burning flesh filling the air around us. I gasped and pushed down the bile that began to form the more I thought about what was happening, trying to focus on the situation. I could do this, I just needed to wake Jeff up. I jabbed the stick into Jeff’s leg, twisting and digging the wood until it splintered under my strength. Jeff may have been a heavy sleeper, but even he wasn’t immune to being stabbed awake. His head rose sharply, nose scrunched in anger, ready to angrily bark at whoever caused him to wake, only to catch sight of the scene unfolding in front of him. “Jeff! Get the puppet off of Ash!” His eyes darted to Slashy, it’s head tilting at the new player in the game. “You really think homeless Jesus is gonna help you? You just made this one course meal a buffet! Jeff didn’t question me for a second, lurching forward and yanking with all his might at the creatures base. A loud, wet, ripping sound filled the air, one that seemed to grow in volume before being silenced by a clothesline strike from Ash, knocking Jeff to the ground. We laid in awe of the sight before us, crawling away from the lumbering figure that stood before us. Ash’s arm was soaked in rotten blood, blood not from himself but from the creature sitting atop his mutilated wrist. Where a clean cut should have been was instead tendons, ripped and torn connecting fabric to flesh. The muscles began to stretch, as Ashy rose, a mess of muscles raising it further from Ash’s arm like a cobra ready to strike.  The small chainsaw began to rev, before Slashy lurched towards Jeff, the umbilical cord snapping with such force a splatter of crimson painted the grass around us. Jeff’s raised hand was no protection from the saw, cutting into his palm with ease. If it wasn’t so tiny, it could have easily cut straight though the shield and into the skull of the survivor. Jeff cried in pain but tried his best to latch on to the puppet, following the only instructions he was given. I knew I had to help, despite the numbing pain in my foot, despite the horror pounding in my chest. We were getting somewhere, we could save Ash. I pushed myself upwards, rushing and slamming my weight against the slumbering chosen one. I felt his body follow through, our body’s falling against the mattress in a spray of blood and stray tendons. I heard the deadite scream in agony, screaming expletives before increasing in volume as Jeff threw it into the firepit, a surge of light erupting from the pit for the new kindling it had received. For a moment all was quiet. No screams, no sounds of movement. Only the sounds of ragged breaths and the roar of a well fed fire. My fingers clawed at Ash’s shirt, my nose brushing against his jawline as I begged for him to wake up. “Ash... Ashley? Ash, please wake up, come on...” I gritted my teeth, tears beginning to prick the edges of my eyes as I began to fear for the worse. “Wake up you old bastard!” I slapped his cheek, fingers leaving fresh lines of blood along his skin. The shock of pain seemed to do the trick as he groaned in pain, eyes snapping open. “Hng! Huh? What? What are you doing...on me...” His voice trailed off as he saw the gore in front of him, the man nursing his wound a few feet away, the bloodied clothes of the people around him. He cautiously raised his hand, seeing the puppet was no longer in his place but instead was place in the fire, the only trail of it was the strange muscly appendage that decorated the ground, leading it’s way back to Ash. “I knew that creep was up to something... I shouldn’t have gone to sleep.” Ash muttered, a tinge of regret lingering with every word. True regret for what had happened as if he had some control over the situation. I felt his arms wrap around me, his big hand beginning to rub circles to try to give some comfort to the horrifying situation. “He had you move... You weren’t waking up, I thought you... “ “Shh, hey... I wouldn’t go out like that are you kidding me? I ain’t going out to a muppet rip off.”  I shuttered against him, burying my face into his chest to hide the hot wet tears that began to fall with every shaky breath. He didn’t seem to judge, knowing the fear of losing loved ones all too well.

[clareisa]

Consequences -「Son Dongju」

♠ - exorcist!Xion X demon!Reader

♠ - genre: exorcist!au, angst, suggestive

♠ - words: 1,8K

♠ - A/N: I know my stories are not the best, but I still hope they are not terrible. I would need more words to do a good story but unfortunately I don’t have the time. Please, forgive me, everyone♥

♠ - 4th October -  ♠ creeptober ♠

♠ - warnings - mentions of religion, disrespect of sacred place, mentions of blood, exorcism, coercion

♠  - English is not my first language, so please, excuse my mistakes

 Dongju was a regular boy from the countryside. Hardworking, generous, kind, peaceful and devoted to his faith in God, the good and bad, and the afterlife. Since he was a little boy, he wanted to work for the church, and not because of money or prestige. He just wanted to help people and lead them to be better. Because he believed everyone is kind in their true nature.  His parents were intensely proud when he got accepted to the theology school as a common farmer child, but they said he has unique qualities and determination to be part of God's servants.

 Soon, he didn't know why, but Dongju started to find interest at the more of a dark spectrum of his faith. It didn't mean he wanted to become a sinner. He just became captured by all the dark myths surrounding him, and the fascination of the other side of the coin.  Exorcism fascinated him the moment he got to know about it, and even though it was hard, sometimes even sad or disgusting to look at what was happening, he didn't give up.

  Soon he became very good at his job of casting out demons off from bodies of innocent people. Until one time...

 The moon was in the first quarter that night when Dongju arrived in a small village on the Han River. He came on the request of the head of the village, who sent a letter asking for help for his supposedly possessed daughter. And it turned out it was the case.

 Dongju was next to her bed for the whole night, trying to get the stubborn evil spirit out of the young girl's body. The demon was talking throught her. First just making fun of him, but as time was passing by, the demon used the girl's body to start touching Dongju in places that weren't appropriate.  As this started, Dongju took her hand in his and started saying out loud prayers, begging higher powers to kick the evil spirit out while intensely looking into the girl's eyes, making sure the demon can hear and see him clearly throught the young girl.

 The screams of agony were echoing throught the house as the method was finally working, and the painful process of the stubborn demon leaving without its permission started.  The girl's hand where Dongju was holding the rosary started burning, causing the smell of scorching human flesh to fill the room. Her eyes went up, the iris not even seen anymore, mouth opened in suffocating scream and the body trembling in an inhuman manner.

 "Crux sancta sit mihi lux, not draco sit mihi dux..." that was the beginning of the prayer Dongju was repeating.  "Vade retro satana, Nunquam suade mihi vana..." he continued even throught the screams and the girl biting his arm, piercing his skin and little creek of blood were falling down the rosary and then to the floor.  "Sunt mala quae libas, Ipse venena bibas." he finished with the last part saying that what they are offering is not wanted and the entity should drink their own venom.

 As he looked the last time deep in girl's eyes, he fell into a vision.

 He suddenly saw the face of a woman. The woman had white eyes and a smirk playing on her red lips.  Her voice resonated in his mind like an echo, "You think you this ends here?" she chuckled, "We'll meet soon... Son Dongju." and that was the moment the illusion in his mind fell apart, and he came back to reality, kneeling next to the bed holding the burned girl's hand, bleeding himself.

 After that, everything went smooth like usually. Dongju was happy that the family gave him some little money and cooked dinner. Yes, he was starving, and yes, he was in need of money also.  He was one of the best exorcists, but the church distanced themselves from him a long ago when he didn't agree to scam people out of money even when the humans around them wasn't possessed, just ill.

 Since then he was travelling, trying to earn money and then sending them to his parents because their business wasn't going really well and they were both ill.

 He thanked the family, took his things and probably an hour before sunrise, he got on his journey back home. As he was passing a church that was in the same village, he decided to go in, pray for a while, and think about the vision he got.

 As he opened the heavy wooden door, the cold air and smell of myrrh hit his senses. It was familiar and felt safe. Nothing bad could happen in this saint place.  He got on his knees in front of the altar, connected his hands, closed his eyes and started praying, thanking the higher power that he could save the young girl this night.

 "Well, well, well... who we got here, huh? Isn't it the same punk who forced me out of that body and interrupted my fun time?" suddenly a smooth women voice echoed through the church.  Dongju's eyes immediately opened he stood up and quickly looked for the source of the dangerously seductive voice.

 He froze to the ground as he saw an actual demon for the first time in front of him. How did he know? Well, it was more than obvious.  Her eyes purely white, giving no clue of actual living being inside. Her raven black hair was falling to her thighs, and her ashy skin was looking too unhealthy for blood even pulsating underneath. Her sharp nails painted in same black colour as her plump lips.

 Dongju immediately squeezed his rosary, "How did you get here? This is a sacred place!" he shouted at her not exactly sure what he should do since he was never in such a situation before.  "Sacred? Here? Ha! Let me laugh. This place was never even consecrated, my dear. Why you think this place has the most possession cases, huh?" she chuckled and smirked, looking at his handsome being up and down.

 Dongju just gulped but didn't say anything. She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see, because of the white colour.  "Look, I don't want to hurt you," she started slowly walking 'down the aisle' to him, but he immediately showed the rosary up, trying to protect himself in panic.  "Woah, Woah... slow down, baby boy. I said I don't want to hurt you." she said stopping a couple of meter in front of him.

 "Then what do you want?" he asked.  "I wanna work with you. As simple as that." she smiled.  "W-what?" he was confused now.  "You know... I would possess someone's body, and you will easily get 'rid of me' and get the reward, which we would spread in half. Good plan, right?" she leaned her head to the side as if it was the most normal thing happening.

 Dongju was slowly going crazy. This wasn't real, right?  "No... this... you.." he pointed at the female demon, " you are not real. This is just a dream, or I'm too tired, and it is happening just in my head." he said taking a deep breath, trying to calm down.

 "Oh, it is very much real, baby boy." she walked to him, "Should I show you how much?" she whispered with a smirk.  Dongju at that moment put the rosary at the side of her neck, making the demon scream in pain and walk back two steps.  

 "Ouch! That hurt, you know?!" she held the place when he burned her ashy skin a bit.

 "No, you are not real. I'm just hallucinating. I saw you before when I was helping that girl, it is just my imagination." he was trying to lie to himself again because he was a little scared now.

 "It was me, you idiot!" she sighed in annoyance. "Ok, I'll help you to believe. And because you interrupted my fun in that human's body, you can see it as a punishment," she said with a smirk on her face.  In a matter of one second, she was standing behind Dongju and hilding him under the neck. That was the moment the young exorcist finally accepted that this is real, and a real demon is going to kill him.

 "Oh, no, no, no. I won't kill you," she said.  "Y-you know how to read my mind?" he gulped as her long nails scratched his neck slightly.  "And not just that... don't worry your punishment will be pleasant, I promise," she whispered the last two words.

 The beautiful but freaky demon girl suddenly connected their bodies as close as possible, "Just relax and enjoy..." she smirked as she slowly pushed herself into his body, becoming part of him, possessing him.

 Dongju suddenly just heard her voice in his head. "Mmm, your body is strong and healthy." she giggled, "What a pretty young man we have here?" she chuckled and moved with his hand without him approving.  "Leave me alone!" he shouted in his mind.  He could see and feel everything throught his eyes and body but just couldn't control any of his body parts.

 "Let's have some fun since you ruined my last entertainment." she chuckled in his mind and sat his body down on the bench, the one right in front of an altar.  "Now let's show your Lord how he created you in his image." she giggled.

 Dongju's hands moved under her power and started buttoning down his dress shirt and pulling down his trousers slowly.  "What? NO! Let me go, you insane demon!" he whined in his mind.  "No. I have a weak spot for handsome cute humans, I wanna you to enjoy yourself." she chuckled again.

 She took down finally his underwear and here he was. Completely under demons control, naked in front of an altar.

 "Please, let me go. I..." he didn't even finish the sentence as his hand under your power took his bare member and started stroking up and down in slow teasing motions.  Dongju whined in his mind. It felt so bad, so embarrassing, so degrading, but the actual physical pleasure as his hand was going faster under the demon woman control was undeniable and liked the feeling even though he was disgusted by himself.

 "Your mind can try to stop me, but your body wants it so bad. I'm a very polite demon but no one interrupts my fun without consequences," she smirked when he finally moaned as she made him grip his already hard cock tighter.  "Maybe I'll let you have your fun with me later because I saw how you were looking at me, baby boy." she was having so much fun torturing the young man.

 "But now your consequences are that I'll make you cum right here, on the altar of your lord so he can see you clearly..."

[kimjoongs-main]

—all hallows eve ; pjs

member park jisung

genre fantasy au/fluff

word count 2.6k

warning(s) n/a

dia’s note finally we get to meet our resident bookseller! i was kind of on the fence about posting this since i’m not completely satisfied, but i’m learning to be less critical of my works so here it is lol, hope you enjoy!

Known for his flawless knowledge of each and every one of the books amongst the shelves, the young bookseller has certainly made a name for himself in the kingdom. He was undoubtedly adored by the locals and travelers alike—magical beings or otherwise. 

Meet the other residents of Wisteria

Jisung’s time at the bookshop first started when he was fourteen. His father, a very powerful mage, was unfortunately killed in the Great War when Jisung was only ten years old. His mother, a mere human, had left long before Jisung could comprehend who she was and what she was supposed to mean to him.

He was never given the opportunity to learn about her.

It wasn’t taboo, per se, for those born from magic to be involved with humans. But it was quite rare, and those who chose to pursue their desires for each other were often met with scandalized glares from both sides.

Jisung’s parents met at his mother’s flower shop. His father used to work for the Crown, and he had wandered in, seeking a bouquet to purchase as a gift. The Queen had just announced her pregnancy with her first child, and the entire castle was frantic in their search for a congratulatory gift. Knowing of her affinity for flora, Jisung’s father made his way to the kingdom’s renowned flower shop, not expecting to fall in love with the maiden hidden behind the leaves.

Because of the absence of any other parental figure in his life, Jisung had no other choice but to move in with his uncle.

Well, he wasn’t really his uncle.

The man in question was a good friend of Jisung’s father, a fellow mage, who also happened to be the owner of the town’s beloved bookshop, Novelty Novels. Unlike any other bookshop in the six kingdoms, this one had novels, novelas, and anthologies graced with magical properties—each unique for every book.

A tale about romance would be laced with a charm that would occasionally release a sweet yet bitter scent, allowing the reader to live vicariously through those who were unfortunate enough to be star-crossed lovers. A tale of mystery and wonder would occasionally have clues appear in the margins—subtle enough as to not give away the ending, but inducing enough to push the reader in the right direction.

Jisung wasn’t much of an avid reader, but he did take it upon himself to become familiar with every single book on the shelves: their content, their magical properties, and their location. He thought it would allow for a more efficient interaction with the customers should they need any assistance.

And it certainly made his life easier.

After an eternity and a half, Jisung finally finished bagging up the last few purchases. As soon as the door closed and the shop lacked any sort of physical presence, the young boy sighed. Too tired to leave his post, Jisung waved his hand in a circular motion and the sign on the door flipped, presenting the words–

Closed: Please come back tomorrow.

He internally winced at the thought of his uncle finding out he used magic without his permission. It was only a small amount though, barely substantial enough to cause any real damage.

He would be fine.

Leaning back on the counter behind him, Jisung reached over to the side  and gently caressed the soft, white lump of fur resting on the nearby windowsill. Said lump wriggled at the contact, moving about to reveal a pair of ears, a rosy button nose, and four wispy whiskers—two on each side of the nose. Jisung smiled, allowing the bunny to hop across his arm and settle comfortably on his shoulders.

He nuzzled his nose into her fur and sighed, eyes droopy.

The sun was just about to set beneath the horizon, and people in the square were beginning to light the torches outside their shops, blissfully unaware of the ashy clouds looming over them. Usually, the bookshop would stay open for a few hours more, but ever since Jisung’s uncle left for his trip, leaving the poor boy to run the shop on his own, he was given the grace to close up earlier than usual—much to Jisung’s delight.

With the extra time he had to spare, he would usually spend it at the Harrownight Inn and enjoy a warm, steamy bowl of Mark’s specialty soup. Or he would bring his bunny, Mabel, to Chenle’s menagerie and let her play around with his creatures.

Crack.

Jisung flinched, skirting away from the window sharply. Mabel, who had just begun to doze off on her owner’s shoulder, was positively perplexed as she hopped onto the counter, foot thumping loudly on the wood to express her indignation. Jisung muttered a soft ‘sorry’ and gently patted her head, letting his fingers run over her silky fur.

He heard shouts and complaints from outside and walked over to the door, peering through the clear glass. Large droplets of rain poured down on the streets, slamming against the cobblestone pathways and soaking the front of the other shops. Jisung snickered when he saw Jeno a few feet away. The poor baker was frantically scrambling to open the door to the bakery—all while balancing a tray of pastries on his other hand.

Jisung shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and stepped away from the door, moving toward one of the chairs in the back of the shop and plopping down on it. The sound of quiet, yet rhythmic, pitter-patters followed, and soon Mabel was clambering up Jisung’s leg. Her owner chuckled as he bent down and carefully scooped her up in his arms, resting her against his chest.

“It looks like we’ll have to visit Chenle some other day,” he sighed.

— — —

You cursed under your breath, feet picking up speed as you darted through the empty streets. You frantically tugged your hood over your head, pulling it so that it covered half of your face.

The rain was beating down hard, and you instantly regretted not accepting the lovely tea owner’s offer to stay in her shop and wait for the rain to pass. You had simply bid her farewell, darting out of the shop and bumping into a few individuals during your hasty exit.

The inn was at the other end of the square, but you could barely make out the path ahead of you—hidden behind a dense veil of fog. At this rate, you’ll end up back at the inn with more bruises and scratches than when you first came.

Choosing safety over comfort, you dashed to the nearest shop, seeking refuge underneath the awning. Sore and tired from holding your hood up, your arm fell limply at your side, and you collapsed onto the wooden door behind you. Tiny droplets of rain dripped down your fingertips and into the puddle next to your feet. The cobblestone streets were absolutely drenched, and you internally winced at the thought of what would’ve happened if you had kept running.

Most of the townspeople had already retreated into their shops—not a single person left wandering the streets. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes flitting over the sign above the door.

Novelty Novels

You recognized the name—a few of Renjun’s spellbooks and Mark’s recipe books were tagged with it. Taking a closer look inside, you spotted rows upon rows of bookshelves—lined in neat, straight lines starting from one end of the shop to the other. The shelves were completely stocked with books of all genres and sizes, leaving no room in between. The lamps in the shop were still flickering, so you softly knocked on the wooden door, hoping that someone was still inside and they would let you take refuge until the rain cleared.

You waited for a few seconds, eyes darting back and forth, checking to see if there was a person walking up to the door.

You, however, certainly weren’t expecting that person (or not person in this case) to be a small bunny, hopping along the wooden floorboards. It appeared between a row of shelves, making its way towards the entrance in a zig-zag motion. As soon as it got close enough, you bent down and tapped the glass gently, grabbing the creature’s attention.

It traveled over to where your hand made contact with the glass and nuzzled its nose against. A tender giggle bubbled from your lips as you easily became charmed by the darling little critter. In fact, you were so entranced with the bunny that you failed to notice a pair of legs standing right behind it.

A tiny shriek sounded from your throat as the door was suddenly thrust open, sending you tumbling into the puddle right behind you. You winced at the feeling of water soaking through your coat and garments.

“Oh–I am terribly sorry! A-Are you all right?” A gentle, but firm hand gripped your upper arm, pulling you up from the ground. You patted down your legs, ridding your clothing from any dirt or leaves that may have gotten stuck to them.

In front of you stood a boy, whom you assumed was the store’s shopkeep, looking at you with the most concerned gaze. His eyebrows were pulled together, and his lips were set in a small frown. He had his hands hovering over you—not quite sure what to do with them. You took notice of the bunny that was no longer on the ground, but on his shoulder instead. Its eyes were peering curiously at you, and as if it shared the same sentiment as the boy before you, the tiny creature gracefully hopped into your own shoulder.

The boy gasped as he reached out, plucking the bunny off your shoulder and holding it up in front of his face.

“Mabel, where are your manners?” the young shopkeep scolded, lips set into a deep frown. His bunny, Mabel, just scrunched her nose up and proceeded to wriggle out of his grasp, landing gracefully on the wooden floorboards.

The shopkeep focused his attention back to you, bowing slightly.

“My apologies—Mabel is a very ‘act first, think later’ type of creature. Please pay no heed to her  unrestrained nature. It seems I have been quite lax with her training.”

You smiled softly at the conflicted expression on the boy’s face, reaching up to tug the strings of your coat loose. You neatly folded the fabric over your forearm, staying mindful of the dark, wet patch near the hem.

“No need to apologize,” you assured him. “I’m sure she, nor you, meant no harm.”

At the mention of what happened earlier, the shopkeeper’s ears flushed a deep red as he stiffly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ahh yes—I truly did not mean to startle you. I just wanted to know if you would like to come in.” He gestured to the ongoing cascade of rain hitting the streets. “I doubt being out here is anything more than pleasant.”

You laughed breathlessly, running a hand through your damp hair.

“I certainly would appreciate that, thank you,” you said kindly. The shopkeeper smiled back (albeit not as enthusiastically) and motioned for you to enter.

Once the door was shut, you released a sigh of relief, grateful to be surrounded by the warmth of the shop. You took a quick peruse of the interior, enthralled by its cozy and inviting atmosphere. The ceiling was coated with intricate designs, swirling and curling over the dark wood as it traveled down to the floorboards. The twisted staircase in the back of the store was almost obscured by the rows of shelves, but you didn’t miss the array of flora weaving in and out of the bars and railings.

(If you had looked close enough, you would have noticed the way they shimmered under the glow of the lamplights.)

Directly in front of you, in the midst of all the literary clusters, was the front desk. The surface itself was clean and polished, but judging from the pile of novels and documents peeking out from behind the desk, you saw it as a product of hastiness and the desire to clean. You slyly glanced over at the young shopkeeper, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

You couldn’t fault him for that—you were the same way. The haphazard pile of paintbrushes and parchments back at the inn served as a testament to that statement.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the shopkeeper began, wringing his hands together nervously. “But you’re taking residence at Harrownight, correct?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and tilted your head to the side.  “How did you know?”

“I saw you chatting with Mark when you first came in,” he said. “When I noticed you crouching outside my shop, I recognized your face and that’s why I let you in.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So are you saying that if you hadn’t recognized me, then you wouldn’t have let me in?”

The words sounded accusatory, but there was hardly any real bite to them. You just wanted to observe his reaction, finding yourself instantly charmed by his innocent nature. You bit back a giggle at the way his eyes widened comically at the statement. He brought his hands up, waving them back and forth in an attempt to defend his case.

“N-No, of course not! I was just trying to–”

You held your hand up, effectively cutting him off. Gentle laughs tumbled from your lips.

“It was merely a jest,” you assured. “I appreciate the hospitality. I’ve noticed it’s quite common amongst you kingdom folk.”

You thought back to your first encounter with Mark, and the way he did everything he could to ensure you were comfortable. Even Renjun, with his snarky persona, was thoughtful and considerate in his own way; you vaguely registered the light weight of the salve in your satchel.

The shopkeeper finally smiled, a genuine one. “Yes, we take pride in making sure that travelers have a pleasant stay in the capital. It can be quite burdensome for those from the countryside to adapt to a bustling city like Wisteria.”

He peered at you, big brown eyes shining with curiosity. “Speaking of, where exactly did you journey from?”

It was a question you should have expected—you were a traveler after all—but that didn’t make answering it any easier. If you were being honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you were blessed to be in the comfort of a home, your own or otherwise. After the Great War, thousands of people and creatures were left unsupported and had no choice but to leave. They became aimless wanderers traveling through the country in search of a purpose once again—you were one of them.

You didn’t have a simple answer, so you took the easy way out.

“I’m from the East.” You smiled warily. “My family and I lived on the outskirts, a few miles from Aurora.”

The shopkeeper’s face dawned in understanding, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Ahh yes, Aurora is a wonderful kingdom. Well, I hope your stay in Wisteria is more than enjoyable.”

He leaned in closer, bringing his hand up cup around his mouth, resembling the image of gossiping maidens in the corner streets.

“And please do not hesitate to come to me if Mark’s service is anything but adequate. I will make sure he hears it from me.” The young boy finishes off with a wink, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

He stuck his hand out sharply, scrunching his nose up endearingly. “I’m Jisung, pleased to make your acquaintance. And uh, well you’ve already met Mabel.”

You took his hand in yours, shaking it. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m Y/n.”

You were fairly certain this wouldn’t be the last time you stepped foot into the shop.

[ladyofpurple]

answer all of the questions!!

holy SHIT ok bless you omg

(sorry it's a full day late i took this shit SERIOUSLY. don't ask me how many hours this took, i was in A Mood™️ last night. removed the ones already answered xoxo)

angel; have you ever been in love?

yeah. didn't end too well, but i loved him.

petal; favorite novel and author?

this is like asking me to pick a favorite child. i guess favorite author would be stephen king, if only based entirely on the sheer quantity of his books i own alone. favorite book would probably be special topics in calamity physics by marisha pessl, and i'm only saying that because it's been my go-to response for years. i have lots of favorite books. ask me again in five minutes and i'll give you another one.

honey perfume; favorite perfume/scent?

freshly made coffee. lilacs. jasmine. cut grass. the ground after it rains. chocolate chip cookies in the oven. cigarette smoke on skin. my mom's shampoo. my grandma. my dog when he's just had a bath. thanksgiving dinner. acrylic paint on canvas. sawdust. that one cologne i can't name but can smell on a guy from a mile away. mulled cranberry and apple juice. vanilla. coconut. fresh laundry. peppermint.

sweet pea; what’s your zodiac?

virgo sun, pisces moon, scorpio rising ✨

softie; talk about your sexuality.

i'm biromantic asexual, primarily attracted to men more than women (but have had too many crushes on girls to consider myself het), generally sex repulsed when it comes to the thought of having it myself. i prefer to call myself queer in passing conversation, it's easier than explaining asexuality and the differences between sexual and romantic attraction. if someone asks more specifically, i'll usually just call myself bi for simplicity's sake, even though the ace part is a much more important (to me) part of my identity. monogamous as fuck.

i'm still struggling with internalized homophobia and a lot of "am i even queer enough" thoughts, which is super fun. took me a long time to even consider the fact that i might like girls at all. i'll probably never come out to my parents. not that they'd, like, disown me or whatever, but they're juuuuust homophobic/transphobic enough that my few attempts to educate them when they say something A Little Yikes have shown me that i should probably just stay in the closet unless i absolutely have to come out. like i'm getting married to a woman or something.

sugarplum; what’s the color of your eyes and hair?

i usually say my eyes are green because it's easier, and they mostly are, but i have rings of greyish blue around the irises and sometimes they're more hazel in the middle. they always have a green tint to them though, even if the intensity of the green varies.

my natural hair is brown, a little on the darker and slightly ashy side of completely generic. currently a former blonde, although i'm hoping to bleach my fucking YEAR of growout soon, and then go some crazy color as a last hurrah before i have to go dark again. being broke fucking sucks.

wings; coffee or tea?

tea!! black tea. chai, to be specific, with an irresponsible amount of milk and sugar. chai lattes are a fucking drug okay? coffee makes me sick (not a judgement, a literal fact. last time i tried some i threw up).

fairytale; are you a cat or dog person?

cat!! but my family has a chihuahua named sonny and you can pry that little monster from my cold dead hands ok i will fight you.

snowflake; favorite time period?

okay, i wrote and rewrote my answer to this about 10 times. then i tried to divide it up into categories (aesthetics, history, fashion, vibes, geographical location, etc), but that didn't help. so basically: i don't have one, because i have too many.

i like the american 20s-60s for the aesthetic, music/movies, and the fashion. i also like the european 1600s-1800s for the interesting history and also vibe. i love the french and russian revolutions — the fashion! the art! the wars and political upheaval! I FUCKING LOVE HISTORY. then, of course, we can't forget the rennaisance. or the witch trials (pick your continent). and ancient greece? the roman empire? hello?? did i mention empires? how bout we mosy on over to south america — can i interest you in the mayans? incans? aztecs? what about china and japan? korea? vietnam? and don't even get me fucking STARTED on the black plague.

ancient egypt? sign me the FUCK UP. vikings? yes please. the celts? oh boy. the MYTHOLOGY. the ARCHITECTURE. the LANGUAGES and POLITICS and LITERATURE and REVOLUTIONS and GOD HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE BETWEEN ANY OF THESE

i uh. might have gotten a little excited. basically i like history a lot. and mythology. and linguistics. and cultural practices. and the politics and prejudices behind wars and stuff. and learning in general. moving on.

vanilla; do you believe in ghosts?

let's put it this way: i don't not believe in ghosts??

listen. we don't know jack shit. we don't know what happens after we die, there are constant scientific revelations that turn our understanding of the universe completely upside-down, and there is literally no way to know which religions or myths or urban legends could have some grain of truth to them. like, dude, i've literally thought i was haunted before. psychology is bananas and the universe is infinite.

demons could be real. ghosts could be real. what if we just haven't invented the necessary technology to prove it yet? what if we never do, and they just fuck around alongside us, moving furniture and making shadow puppets on the walls just for kicks until the earth explodes? what if that one tumblr post was right and ghosts are actually real people from alternate universes or timelines that we see accidentally bc some cosmic wires got crossed? who fucking knows.

i love horror movies and scary stories and ghost hunter shows just as much as the next gal. but listen. psychics? mediums? people who accept every single creepypasta retold third-hand from their neighbor's kid's classmate's second cousin who "totally knows a guy"? doubt.jpeg

i don't understand the sheer amount of assumptions made willy-nilly about the nature of ghosts and demons and things that go bump in the night. the assumption that "oh this machine that totally doesn't look like a coathanger taped to a walkman will work because ghosts have this temperature and can always communicate like this and are electromagnetic" or whatever just baffles me. to a certain degree, following a general consensus is one thing — some basic things everyone can agree on? that's cool. ghosts can walk through walls and are probably dead people or whatever. but oh my god, taking every single story as absolute, undeniable proof?? taking these stories and expanding on them to infer intentions and scientific facts to something that by it's very nature is unknowable and assuming, like, every spirit is created equal?? and yeah, ghost hunting shows are fun and campy and kinda creepy but like. you really, genuinely don't think any of them have ever faked anything at all??? even if ghosts are real, it's fucking reality tv, my dude. it's the entertainment industry. at least maintain the slightest ounce of critical thought before taking zak bagans' word as the goddamn gospel.

and sidenote, maybe it's just my limited exposure as a white woman in the western world, but of all the shows and podcasts and movies and documentaries and whatnot i've been able to find and consume, there's the constant use of christian ideology applied to every situation that just really burns my bacon. what, there's never been an atheist ghost? if you see a shadow person and you don't know the lord's prayer by heart, are you automatically fucked? why are there never stories about, i don't know, viking ghosts? does your religion in life preclude you from becoming a ghost in the first place? is that why people never mention buddhist ghosts? i don't get it, and that's why even though i'm self-admittedly the most superstitious person i've ever met, true believers make me roll my eyes so hard they almost fall out. makes me come across as more skeptical than i theoretically am. I HAVE VERY STRONG FEELINGS ABOUT THIS OK

but like, you couldn't pay me to fuck with a ouija board. i'm not stupid.

delicate; diamonds or pearls?

both have their appeal and their place, but diamonds, i guess. i like the sparkle. but fake ones!! or synthetic. diamonds are overpriced and artificial scarcity is a scam and i don't need a dumb rock that some poor person in a mine somewhere was exploited and possibly died for. no blood diamonds in this house, thank you very much.

if i ever get engaged, i don't want a diamond ring. i'd want something cool, a little unusual, like a ruby or a sapphire or some other sparkly gem that isn't literally shoved in your face every waking moment as the expected standard symbol of True Love. they're cheaper, they're cool-looking, as a ring they still hold the cultural symbolism of an engagement/wedding ring. and honestly, as long as it's well-made and durable, whatever hypothetical gem it is doesn't have to be real either. i'm a woman of simple needs and demonstrably low standards. no point in going into debt for a fucking piece of jewelry, regardless of ~tradition~.

lavender dream; favorite album?

oh lord. welcome to the black parade, i guess. or anything by panic! at the disco. there are dozens of possible options — my interests are mercurial and my memory is garbage. but i'll always be an emo little shit. black parade and vices and virtues were also the first two albums i ever listened to where i loved every single song on them, and i happened to listen to them for the first time at around the same point in my life (i got into mcr super late. like, 2012 late. rip).

silky; what’s your biggest dream?

it's cheesy but i guess i just want stability and, by extension, happiness. emotional stability, mental stability, financial stability, stable living situation, stable routines, stable relationships... you get the idea. i have ambitions and passions, of course, but my ultimate goal is happiness at this point in my life, and i'm pretty sure stabilizing all those things would go a pretty long way in achieving that goal.

a little apartment with walls i can paint because white walls make me angry. bookshelves and posters and fandom merch on every wall. a computer i can actually play games on again, and somewhere i can paint and draw and record my podcasts. someone who loves me, maybe. a cat, if i'm stable enough. space for people to come visit me, and a place for them to sleep if they need. a tiny balcony, if i really want to shoot for the stars. a job i don't hate. the spoons to hang out with my friends, and the money to not worry about buying little presents for the people i care about sometimes. i don't need much.

strawberry kiss; do you have a crush right now?

nope.

glitter; favorite fictional character?

another loaded question. like books, if you ask me again in five minutes i'll probably give you a different answer. but in this particular moment, caleb and jester from critical role (please don't make me choose between them). i won't go full shipping mode rn, but jester is so funny and silly and sweet, so much more complex than she seems, and she tries so hard to make everyone happy even when she's so sad inside. the healer who treats healing as an inconvenience in battle (she's so fucking valid and also mood), the glue that keeps the party together. and caleb learning to trust again, facing his trauma and coming out of his shell. he loves his friends so much he plays wizard as a support class and i love him so much.

i love the mighty nein in general, of course, and all the guests/honorary members they've had. pumat!! pls don't be evil reani!! keg!! shakäste and grand duchess anastasia!! cali!! kiri!!!! the brotps! empire siblings! chaos crew! nott the best detective agency! i still love molly and all his assholery to bits (fight me), and mourn his lost potential. i adore yasha, even when she's gone; fjord has grown so much; beau and nott and caduceus — i love all their flaws and disagreements and their character arcs and the excitement of watching them grow and learn. but if i had to choose, caleb, jester and molly have always been my top 3 since day 1 and, well, molly isn't really an option anymore.

but like i said, ask me again in a minute. i have a fucking list.

swan; share a quote or passage that means something to you.

a collection of things off the top of my head:

Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational opposition. — Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen

a tired feminist Mood™️

"What I say is, a town isn't a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it's got a bookstore, it knows it's not foolin' a soul." — American Gods, Neil Gaiman

i got my love of books from my grandma — some of my favorites i got from her. sometimes, as a treat, she used to take my sister and i to bookstores and we'd stay there for ages, getting to pick one out, roaming the shelves, the mental torture of having to choose. the peace of being surrounded by thousands of potential worlds, so much information, so many stories just waiting to be told; being surrounded by strangers who share that same wonder. the anxious drive home so we could read them, being unable to wait that long so i inevitably start reading in the car and make myself sick. telling her in excited detail all my favorite parts. if we were lucky, maybe we got to split a bear claw, or she'd drive past starbucks and get us something there too (tall vanilla soy steamer with one pump of vanilla syrup, whipped cream on top that always melted too quickly and squirted out the hole in the lid, so hot it burned my tongue but so good i didn't care). i have never felt more at home than i do when i'm surrounded by books.

"There are a lot of different types of freedom. We talk about freedom the same way we talk about art, like it was a statement of quality rather than a description. “Art” doesn’t mean good or bad. Art just means art. It can be terrible and still be art. Freedom can be good or bad, too. There can be terrible freedom. You freed me, and I didn’t ask you to." — Alice Isn't Dead, season 1, chapter 2: Alice

as cringey as it is to admit it, this line made me cry a lot after my breakup.

"So you aren't American?" asked Shadow.

"Nobody's American," said Wednesday. "Not originally. That's my point." — American Gods, Neil Gaiman

[side-eyes white america real hard]

there's more, of course. there's always more. don't even get me started on song lyrics, we'll be here all day.

lace; what’s your favorite plant/flower?

lilacs and roses.

mermaid; do you prefer the forest or the ocean? why?

both, i guess. but in different ways, and in different circumstances.

the sea is wild. it is endless and deep and unknowable. it is beautiful and dangerous. i am terrified of the ocean, and yet my favorite place in the world is an empty beach on the oregon coast. i have picked sand from between my toes for days with hair crusted in salt, danced around bonfires and watched the stars while marshmallows burn, gotten pulled under the waves as a child and nearly swept out to sea. picked starfish and crabs from small pools in the rocks, and swum (accidentally) with wild sea lions. in a long skirt, too early in the year to be swimming, i once took off my shoes and waded fully clothed into the water to my waist and just... danced. splashed and kicked and laughed with a boy i barely knew until our throats were sore and our toes were numb, walking home hours later with our soaked clothes clinging to our legs, shoes squelching, dripping algae as we went. the ocean is freeing and overwhelming all at once. i love it and am petrified by it in equal measure.

the forest is beautiful in a different way. it is silent and dense and serene. you are surrounded by life and yet, somehow, completely alone. there is magic in the forest, and history, and even when all else dies, that will remain. the trees grow from the corpses of their ancestors, and some have lived dozens of our lifetimes — with luck, a few dozen more. it is quiet there, peaceful, even the tiniest wood in the middle of a city muffling the outside world through the trees. you can feel the ancient ways deep in your soul as you follow winding paths strewn with fallen leaves, the mystery and wonder and superstitions of your forefathers. you wonder what it would be like, to run your fingers over the moss, to take off your shoes and socks and just run, leaping and dancing over rocks and roots, hair wild and air filling your lungs in deep, pure gulps as you shed the responsibilities and struggles of modern life, for just a moment remembering what freedom tastes like. it is primal, this connection to nature, one we have nearly forgotten over time. and as the sky grows dark and the silence of night presses against you, shadows looming, every footfall deafening, perhaps you begin to understand why some believed in monsters.

honeymoon; do you keep a journal?

i used to. honestly, that's a good idea, i should start doing that again. lord knows i have enough empty journal-type books.

starlight; do you believe in love at first sight and soulmates? why/why not?

i want to. i want to believe there's someone out there for me, the love of my life, someone to whom i'll be the love of their life, and that when i meet them i'll just... know.

but when i met my ex, i didn't really look twice at him for a while — no love at first sight. and when we were together, when i loved him and he swore he loved me back, i thought he hung the stars in the sky and knew i would marry him someday. couldn't even consider the idea that that wouldn't happen. and then when he broke up with me, he ghosted me so suddenly and thoroughly that he even preemptively cut contact with every single one of our mutual friends he thought might side with me in the breakup, before anybody even knew we'd had a fight. so, not soulmates either.

i really want to believe that someday the perfect romance will just fall into place and i can have the happily ever after i've always dreamed of. but the reality is i might never even have another s.o. for the rest of my life. maybe i'll get hit by a car tomorrow, or my hypothetical soulmate moves to argentina to become an alpaca farmer on a mountain somewhere and we never even meet. maybe i'm so traumatized by the betrayal and lies that i'll never have the courage to even try again.

and even so, happily ever after doesn't have to include a fairytale romance, regardless of whether i want it or not. i still like to cling to that hope though, deep down.

princess; what do you value most in people?

i'm going to assume you mean "real people" as in people i have positive relationships with, and not random strangers on the street.

loyalty. kindness. support. humor. similar values. patience. being able to grow together and teach each other things, so we can make each other better. honesty. trust. compassion. confidence. emotional vulnerability. communication. intelligence, or at least a willingness to learn. strength.

[agent-7-at-your-service]

Future Plot: Here Comes the Next Gen (Reboot) - Chapter 1 (Part 2)

(( Camille belongs to @inklingleesquidly

Celeste and Willow belong to @alpinesquid

Nebula belongs to @myzzy and @agenttwo / @nyanamo

Agent 7 and Telemachus (Neo-Agent 3) belong to me

Nova (mentioned) belongs to @tentamissile-rush / @splat-tendency and @marchant-girls / @eiden-squid ))

Camille noticed Celeste and her friend about to approach her and Nebula. She has kind of expected Celeste and her friend to be around Arowana Mall. She also noticed the unknown Inkling boy in the Hero suit replica that arrived through a super-jump. This Inkling, she has no idea who he is or what he’s doing here.

Celeste’s friend is your usual squid, wearing the freshest fashion of her choice. She’s an inkling that’s 3 inches shorter than Celeste with light brown skin, light green eyes, and purple ink-hair with dark purple spots. Her ink-hair is tied back into a braided ponytail similar to Camille’s, but this tail is shorter. She wore a white sailor suit, a straw boater hat, and blue lo-tops.

Camille was familiar with Celeste’s friend. Her name is Willow.

The unknown inkling was light-skinned with long, ashy green ink-hair, green star eyes, and a familiar mole on his left cheek. Camille has seen the inkling’s suit before, and it was mostly from a few inklings from Inkopolis; it was something called a “hero jacket replica”. He was also armed with this circular shield with a blue swirl on it.

This one, Camille isn’t familiar with.

Celeste just gasps in amazement as she saw the unknown inkling land. She recognizes the attire and ran up to him with her friend following. Celeste and Willow were just two steps away from where Camille and Nebula were sitting.

The inkling in the hero jacket replica jumped off the beach rocks and landed in the sand. He approached Camille and friends. Celeste was the first to run up to him with Willow following her.

“Where did you get the jacket?” Celeste awed. “I really like it!”

The inkling didn’t respond. He gave this neutral stare, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Uhm, forgive Celeste, she really likes these things,” Willow explained.

The inkling then spoke, “It’s alright. I get that a lot whenever I wear this.” He adjusted the collar of his jacket. “I heard my dad was in Inkopolis. I decided to check the city out.”

“Do you have a name?” Willow politely asked.

“You may call me Neo-Agent 3,” the inkling boy replied.

It was obvious to Celeste that Neo-Agent 3 won’t give out his real name. She knows it would blow his cover. She has her hand out, offering Neo-Agent 3 a handshake, looking eagerly nervous.

“M-my name’s Celeste,” she began, “I think you already know because Willow mentioned my name to you.” She gave a little giggle. “It’s so good to meet an agent in-person.”

Neo-Agent 3 nods and shakes Celeste's hand. Celeste actually decided to bring Neo-Agent 3 to Camille and Nebula, much to Camille’s lack of interest. Nebula found it a bit sudden for Celeste to introduce someone new, but she went along with this event.

“Hello there, my name is Neo-Agent 3.” Neo-Agent 3 began.

“If there another name we can call you?” Camille asked, not liking the Agent name.

“Telemachus.” Neo-Agent 3 then narrows his eyes at Camille and Nebula. “You two look familiar. Have we met?”

“If you recognize us as the Neo-Squid Sisters, yes, we are them. We’re just not in our outfits.” Camille leans back a bit. “The name is Camille, and this is my cousin, Nebula.”

“Cousins, just like the original Squid Sisters.” Telemachus gave a slight smile, though his eyes were a slight glare. “They were Callie and Marie.”

“Those are our moms’ names,” Nebula pointed out, “Marie is my mom, and Callie is my cousin’s mom.”

“Coincidence,” Telemachus replied, “You know a friend of mine in Alexandria district had most of your songs, mostly your music, Nebula. He always boasts about how he’ll win your heart one day.”

“Your friend really said that?” Nebula wasn’t that surprised, thinking it’s just another big fan.

“Yeah really.” Telemachus flips his long ink hair. “He’s a musician too. One time he tried to send you a letter, requesting a duet.”

“I…. never got the letter.” Nebula was a bit surprised that she has a fan this devoted to her.

“Wow, Nebby, I guess you’re the one in the Neo-Squid Sisters that attracts all the weirdoes.” Camille gets a slight glare of embarrassment from Nebula. Camille chuckles. “And I don’t think there’s a chance that your friend will get her.”

Telemachus folds arms. “Figures; is there a something in the way of my friend’s love for Nebula?”

“There’s our friend, Emerald.” Camille pondered a bit. “I can tell that she has a crush on Nebula.”

“Camille!” Nebula is already blushing, covering her face.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Celeste assured, “Many of us have a secret crush.”

“Yeah, many of us do,” Willow agreed.

“Does that include you, Camille?” Telemachus wondered.

“Pfft. Please, I not gonna slow down for lovey-dovey stuff.” Camille sticks her tongue at the idea. “Besides, who needs love.”

Telemachus smiled. “I guess this will be the start of a new friendship.”

“We just met,” Camille commented, “But I guess it is… for now.”

When the sun was setting, Willow had to leave early along with Nebula. They had things to do with their parents. Camille, Telemachus, and Celeste still had time at the beach near Arowana Mall.

They all hung out at a pier, watching the sunset.

Telemachus had a lot to say about the Agency to Celeste. Camille was uninterested, and she was mostly pretending to listen and be amazed by the stories he told. But inside, Camille found Telemachus boring.

“And that how the supercomputer and I got along and cooperated.” Telemachus showed his shield. “This shield here is what houses Xenia. Currently, she’s back in Alexandria district, getting updated by a friend of mine.”

“Will she get along with us if you bring her next time?” Celeste wondered.

“She gets a bit shy, but she’ll get used to new faces.” Telemachus looked at Camille. “You seems quiet.”

“Oh, me? Oh no, I was listening to every word,” Camille replied with a smile.

Telemachus sighs and continues watching the sunset. “I can tell you weren’t listening. It’s alright.” Telemachus sighed in disappointment. “You’re not like others, I guess.”

Camille rolls her eyes.

Telemachus did realize he was talking a bit too much about his profession and himself. He should be talking about Camille and her friends, so he decided to do just that.

“I hear you’re called the Fasted Squid Alive,” Telemachus respected, “how did you get that name?”

Now there was a topic Camille is willing to talk about. “I race a lot. I’ve been racing ever since I was young. I outran every squid on my go-kart, and...”

Telemachus looked at her with a wink and a smile. Camille looked away.

“And I did win most of the race tournaments,” Camille continued, “And no other race was able to challenge my speed, even Nova always ends up second.”

“Nova?” Telemachus raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a friend and rival of mine,” Camille explained.

“And I’ve seen her out race everyone at that raceway.” Celeste has seen one of the races before. “And she hopes to one day be known far and wide as a Racecar Champion in history.”

“Oh please, Celeste.” Camille expects to get that title already.

Celeste and Camille laugh a bit and then sigh.

“And how about you, Celeste, why do you like the Agency so much?” Telemachus wondered.

“Because one day I want to join their ranks… if they have ranks.” Celeste scratched the back of her head. “It’s my dream to become an agent.” She gave a grin.

Telemachus knew Celeste has a lot to learn. He nods. “I’m sure you’ll be able to join some day. But enough about the agency for now, what do you usually do for a hobby?”

“Soccer….. or football.” Celeste shook her head. “Or whatever they call it nowadays. I play really well in the sports. There are sometimes I can end up with scrapes on my knees and a few aches, but that won’t stop me from playing.”

“Then you’re a trooper,” Telemachus declared, “Then again, watch your health, but still you’re a trooper.”

The sun is now sinking into the horizon.

“Camille, Celeste, I’m glad to end this beginning of our friendship on a good note.” Telemachus adjusted his ink hair.

“You can say that,” Camille smirked.

“Yup.” Celeste stretches her arms a bit.

This kind of friendship might as well be established.

Camille, Nebula, and Celeste were back in school, meeting in Agent 7’s Biology class. He was lecturing to them an introduction to Biology, starting with defining science, refreshing the memory of last science class, and giving a brief lecture on the chemistry.

“And make sure these are in your notes. Some will be crucial to your first test,” Agent 7 reminded.

Camille was doodling while taking her notes; she was using an erasable pen instead of a pencil. Nebula noticed her doodles but didn’t say anything.  Yes, they were mean in nature, but they didn’t seem that offensive to Agent 7.

Minutes later, Agent 7 standing over Camille, arms folded.  He finally noticed the doodles. Camille knew she was busted.

Agent 7 took a closer look at the notes along with the doodles. His reaction was unexpected: he sighed and smiled, commenting, “I get that a lot from my trainees back in Alexandria District, these doodles are far better than what my trainees say about me.” He walked away from Camille.

Camille rolls her eyes. She erased the doodles and actually focuses on taking notes. At least she didn’t end up in detention, she thought.

Agent 7 then continued his lecture. He didn’t even say Camille will be in detention. “As I was saying, the scientific method is going to be very important in all of our experiments, and one day each of you will be making their own biology experiment for the finals.”

The bell rings and everyone in the biology class leaves. Agent 7 stops Camille.

“One moment, Camille, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Agent 7 had her waiting at her desk. “There’s something I want to offer.”

“Pass.” Camille wasn’t interested, but Agent 7 kept her in the class.

Agent 7 took out a late pass and signed it just in case with Camille’s name on it. It was just in case.

“Just hear me out, Camille. I’ll make it worth your while,” Agent 7 convinced.

“The only thing worth my while from you is not seeing your face in the halls, goodbye.” Camille headed toward the door.

“Can’t you at least spare sometime after school to come back to this class to hear me offer?” Agent 7’s talk with Camille was urgent.

Camille stopped. She sighed and turned to look at Agent 7. “Afterschool, I promise.”

When the last school bell rings, Agent 7 was back in the biology class. Camille did return as promised, but she had a look on her face that said she would like to be somewhere else. Agent 7 acknowledged this and started.

“Here is my offer: I want you to join this special program in Alexandria District on Winter Break. It will be worth your while as it includes things from the automotive tech class.” Agent 7 was aware she didn’t get that class.

Camille seemed interested, but she doesn’t seem convinced enough. “’Doesn’t mean I’ll join. What’s the catch?”

“There is some training in addition to the class you want.” Agent 7 confessed.

“What training?” Camille narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

“It’s just some special training meant for kids like you,” Agent 7 answered, “I assure you that if you do this, it will help you with the career you want.”

Camille was almost convinced, but she still isn’t sure about this “training” that came with it. Then again, she didn’t see it as a problem as long as she gets into that automotive tech class. She decided to take that chance with caution.

“I’ll consider it,” Camille replied before leaving the class.

As Agent 7 watches her leave he sighed. “Just like them.”

[itsallinmeee-blog]

Shaquan, Too

Pay attention to your kids. Read to them, talk with them, draw, color, paint, explore their interests, develop their talents, invest in your children… Not just monetarily either; don’t send them off to practices and summer camps and after school programs without investing time, love and patience in them. Become their best friend. Encourage them. Speak to them with love and compassion so they can see the clear difference between making a mistake and being disobedient. Raise emotionally intelligent children.

I believe life is like a really well written movie where you’re intrigued yet lost the whole time and everything comes together at the “end” or resolution stage. You flashback to all these milestones and years of wandering and confusion and see their key roles in preparing you for this moment. Right? Okay so I am currently a substitute teacher. How did I find myself here? Impeding quarter life crisis aside, I had bills to pay and a daughter to take care of, and right before the school year started I got fired from my fake-promising secretary job. I’m in a city where anyone making over minimum wage travels and hour to work and I literally can’t afford car trouble. So, yeah, substitute teaching it is.

My first day was a 3rd grade class. I got through to the class bad ass and thought “Maybe I can get used to this” because I am so passionate about making a difference, but you like… can’t. Every day you have a new classroom full of kids that know time and numbers are on their side. Meaning they’re used to sitting in these tacky, cluttered, lazily decorated classrooms for 11,000 hours days. They know there’s 18-25 of them and only one of you, you don’t know their names, you can pinpoint the noise if everyone’s making it, and you will run out of patience if they just keep wearing on it.

I care a lot. If you asked me what I wanted to be in high school, aware of all the money making professions I should have aspired to, I would’ve said “a high school English teacher at a Title 1 school”. I have always had a heart for “bad” kids; behavior problems that might really just have some learning problems, attitude problems, trouble makers, dropouts. These were all my favorite people and no one could understand that it wasn’t a bad boy fascination. I understood that children with no control of their environments or parenting were blamed for both and I didn’t like it. And I tried myself to make it up to the hood on behalf of the church and Upstanding Negro community across the country by simply caring.

Saying all that to say “bad” was not the problem.

“Bad” was never an issue and “boy” definitely wasn’t either. I thought my gift and purpose in life was caring for young thrown away black boys but I quickly learned that wasn’t necessary here: these black boys, for the most part, were coddled. “He’s really such a sweet kid” The older white lady that walked me down from the front introduced me to the class, then knelt at the boy’s desk to attempt to talk him out of giving me a hard time… then turned to me and said that. Girl, how the hell? What I found even more odd was his coddling was followed by the bad black girl in the class being reprimanded sternly for getting out of her seat. How, Susan? I see the dynamics have changed.

So although they normally aren’t my target audience, I began to pay more attention to the black girls. All my life we never got along, but there was something unique about almost every single little black girl I encountered now: they wanted me there. If I was holding the door open at a middle school for the students coming in their third period, trying to look like I knew what was going on, black girls would walk by and get wide eyed. “I wanna be in her class! Man she need to come to our class! Miss! You know you can come down here, right?” Once an aid came in and took over the second block of the fifth grade Science class that I was subbing for (ironically, the one full of little black girls). Before that day she was their friend. I could tell because she was comfortable calling them “gwarl” and “girlfriend” and snapping in S-formation. Oh, but that did not work on this day. “I want you to teach!” The cutest dark skinned girl said to me in disappointment. Her friend was turned around looking at me, too. Although I was happy they took over a science lesson, due to the fact that I hate science, I acted like it was out of my hands. “She kind of took over” I whispered back with a shrug. “Sometimes you gotta boss up” the other girl said. The way she said it with her hand motions almost made me laugh out loud. Maybe you’re right, girl.

Bad or not, all these kids were in desperate need of attention. All of them. Even the good, quiet and shy ones eventually warmed up to my kindness and turned into ankle bracelets. They all wanted to pile on top of each other to surround me at the table all day, eat lunch with me and “help me” get the rest of the class quiet (by talking even more to each kid individually about why they needed to be quiet). Dear God. There were very few ‘other’ kids in comparison; the good kids that were laid back and quiet, doing their work with an aggravated maturity about them. I started to wonder what the difference was in their rearing. I know the intensive classes were full of tech savvy children and found out a lot of the honors kids weren’t allowed to be on electronics for over an hour at home. It’s obvious when a child has structure at home and I will also tell you, in case you didn’t know, it’s obvious when they do not. When they aren’t asked about their day and what they learned. When no one is sitting down and helping them with their homework when they need it and when no one is even asking the child if they had homework. 

As passionate as I am about our children is as passionate as I have to be about the parents because the difference between needy students and the only three in the class that aren’t driving the teacher up the wall is their parenting. We have to raise our kids. You can’t talk about her parenting because her kids are ashy or you don’t like how she fixes their hair or dresses them if they can read, sit still and pay attention in school. Your kids are in schools clinging tightly to strangers like Matilda with Miss Honey, because I’m the first adult that wasn’t telling them to “Sit they ass down and be quiet” every 5 seconds. I pay every day for having a heart with these kids and have to keep in mind not to raise one when I get with my own daughter. It’s so easy to give her a toy with lights, music and sounds or find a YouTube video to play for her. I admit I don’t even know how to properly engage my daughter because she’s currently 11 months old. Well, I’m getting better, but all up until around 9 months I just did not know what to do with the child. I had a home visitor and all to teach me about the developmental stages, what milestones she should be reaching, things to work with her on and all… But it just didn’t come natural to me to play with a baby. Everybody would tell me to bond with her, hold her and talk to her, and I would just hold her, look at her… Lost. So yes, it is hard! When they’re children it seems like they can’t grasp things quickly enough ad they have a lot of unwarranted emotions. Still, that’s YOUR child. The job is mine alone (okay, her father’s too) to pour into my child. We have to constantly be aware of that. I mean, think about the way you are with everything. Your temperament, work ethic, self esteem, values, morals, humor. How much did you learn from school?