#stray kids baywatch

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Clinomania

❤ A Valentine's Day Special! ❤

Summary || [Steve Harrington X Female Reader SMUT] Your devoted boyfriend gets creative waking you up on Valentine's day morning. 

Your Boyfriend Steve | 2.5k words | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day One + Steve Harrington + Chocolate,” Established Relationship, Glasses!Steve, Food Play (Hershey’s Kisses Chocolate), Morning Sex, Body Worship, Foot Massage, Breast Humping, Oral Sex (male receiving), Anal Fingering (male receiving), Aftercare. 

More Valentines! | Just Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

Your friends laughed at you– laughed!– when you bought a new mattress. 

"Don't you sleep at Steve's house most nights?," Jonathan inquired. 

"No, she passes out at her desk because she’s a workaholic," Robin teased. 

"You're wasting money on a bed when you should be saving up for an apartment," Nancy chastised. 

"What you’re really wasting is a perfectly good mattress," said Eddie, but he stopped grumbling the second you told him he could have your old one. 

"I think you just keep doing you, girl," Argyle added from over the phone and then proceeded to describe how he was holding both of his thumbs up. 

But you picked one from a top rated brand and jumped on the bed until the stiff springs softened. Tonight, you fall into your clean sheets and pillows and comforter in silky sleep clothes after a nice shower and you sleep like a happy little rock. 

Early in the pre-dawn morning, some muffled sounds pull your head up from the warm recess of the sleep pool. Your eyes flutter open to find someone sneaking quietly into your bedroom. You would recognize the silhouette of that luscious hair anywhere and grunt because you're not fully awake. 

You see Steve turn his head towards you in surprise. He shushes you gently and whispers, "sorry. Go back to sleep, sweetheart." 

You expected him to join you in bed but are disappointed to see his form retreating after a kiss on the forehead. It almost feels like a dream as sleep pulls you back under and the next thing you know is sweet dreams fueled by the smell of coconut and papaya. 

You dream of laying on a beach with white sands and turquoise waves. Kids play at the edge of the water, the boombox by your towel plays Blue Oyster Cult softly, and the gentle breeze blows a stray beach ball into your hands. Well, it’s actually a basketball. And a tall, lean man in bright red swim trunks crouches by your side with a flirtatious smile, brushing his pretty brown locks off his forehead and holding out his hand. 

“Sorry about that,” dreamy beach boy Steve said as you shook his hand, “gee, you’re awfully gorgeous, aren’t you? How’s about I help you with that sunscreen, doll?” 

You manage to undo the strings of your bikini top before quickly realizing that you must be dreaming. And as always, the dream slips away into memory and you open your eyes and return to your quaint, quiet bedroom which has become lightly sun filled. 

A handsome face appears above you with his wire frame glasses sliding down to the end of his aquiline nose. “Good morning, valentine.” 

“Hey Baywatch,” you mumble sleepily. 

“What,” he chuckles and adjusts his glasses. "Sleep well?" 

You moan. "So good, baby. Maybe… maybe too good…" 

"How's that?" You can't see him anymore now that he's slipped from your view and you can't turn your head. 

"I'm too comfortable, Steve," you almost sound like you're whining. "I can't get up. I can't move." 

Steve comes back into view. "Need a doctor?" 

You try to command yourself to shake your head but nothing happens. Growing slightly concerned, Steve drops a hand on your hip and his thumb absentmindedly circles your skin. It feels good too, not enough to free you from the bed's clutches. 

"Think… you just need to help me get my blood flowing," you finally said, and watched his gentle brown eyes turn hungry. 

"I can do that." 

Steve sets what sounds like a ceramic mug on your nightstand and picks something else up, then shuffles to the end of the bed before mounting it. You feel his knee bump your foot and realize you must have forgotten to use your blankets last night. 

"I was going to save this for after dinner tonight," you hear Steve start to say, "but I guess we'll be doing your presents backwards today." 

"What is it?" 

You hear a bottle open and close, then the sound of his big hands rubbing against each other moistly. "Massage oil. Get you nice and warmed up, sweetheart." 

Steve starts in at your feet, the oil warmed by his hands and easing the friction of movement. Your eyes roll back into your head at the firm pressure of his thumb making circular motions into your arch. And your boyfriend takes his time with you, not overworking nor neglecting certain muscles– just the goldilocks of massaging. He works up to your mid calf before setting your foot down to the side and switching legs. 

The silk fabric of your pants is unfortunately getting stained as he pushes it up your leg, but you can't bring yourself to mind at all as you feel him part your legs and scoot closer and closer to your core. Your blood is circulating at optimal capacity and you've never been so relaxed and yet so worked up before. 

Steve's head comes into view and he looks down at you with a fond smile, stripping your pants off completely and beginning work with his hands on the meat of your thigh. You whimper involuntarily and it only makes his smile widen. 

"Hi baby," he teases you. "How are we feeling?" 

This time, you moan appreciatively. "So good, Steve. Need you…" 

He raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "Need me to what, sweetheart?" 

Of course he is going to make you say it. Despite being close enough to your core to know how wet you were, able to see your nipples peaked under your shirt and the sweat on your neck. The back of his hand is centimeters from brushing your mound and yet he still wants you to say it. 

Stubbornly, you flatten your mouth and turn your head aside, pretending to fall back to sleep. He chuckles at your obstinance and drops a kiss on the exposed part of your neck before climbing off the bed entirely. In a panic, you whip your head around to find him and whine pathetically. 

"Where are you going?!" 

"Nowhere," he laughs, "I'm gonna wash my hands and grab something, calm down!" 

Feeling more awake, you manage to shuffle your legs into a more comfortable position and slide your arms in to start unbuttoning your shirt. Steve comes back with a box of chocolates. He takes a few into his big hand and sets the box on your nightstand where you realize there are also a few candles that hadn't been there before with black wicks and curling smoke. Steve unraps the foil from each of the chocolates and offers one to you, which you gladly open your mouth for and intentionally lick his fingers as you take it. It isn't long before he gets back in bed, but this time he straddles your hips. You glance at the comfy lounge pants on his hips and the bulge resting on your pelvis. 

“What’s that for?” You’re not too excited about food in your new bed but Steve shushes you and asks you to trust him, which you do. Then he pushes open your shirt and admires your bare chest. 

"Oh baby, for me?," he asks as if your naked breasts are a gift (and to him, they are). "You shouldn't have… but boy am I'm glad you did." 

His silly mood dials back as he begins to strategically place the little chocolates on your belly, making a trail between the valley of your breasts, mounting two next to your nipples, and placing one pointed top down in your naval. You roll your eyes but let him play, not quite getting the joke until he leans down and takes the first one, replacing it with his wet lips. 

"A kiss for a kiss," he says as he leans back with a goofy smile and chews. He takes another, inching up slowly.

"You're going to get sick from eating all that chocolate," you say lazily.

"They're minis," he shrugs and upon collection of the next Hersey's kiss, he leaves a sticky wet spot with his tongue. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t leave you hanging.” 

Steve takes a chocolate from your boob and after making sure that it’s evenly melted in his mouth, he licks a stripe over your budding nipple, painting over it. The shock of hot and cold as the chocolate quickly cools has you shivering, and he repeats this action on the other side, then spends a good few minutes sucking it back up and cleaning them. 

The slick is beginning to pool inside your underwear, now having nowhere to go. And when you wiggle your hips, Steve’s stiff cock bumps the lowest part of your belly and leaves a sticky spot where pre-cum has soaked through his clothes. 

“Steve, Steve,” you whine and wiggle needily beneath him. “Please, baby, please.” 

You are moments away from full on crying, incoherent with your blooming desire but trying not to hurry him into anything. You suspect that Steve is just as down bad as you are, though he has patience galore when it comes to worshiping your body, much to your elation and sometimes dismay. 

And for once, or maybe because he can’t wait anymore either, Steve sits up and tugs his shirt over his head, the collar of his shirt accidentally pick up some of the chocolate staining his chin. The hem brushes his happy trail, revealing his freckled skin and hairy chest like a present being unwrapped. His glasses almost fall off, but he rights them once his left hand is free and tosses the shirt to the end of the bed. He’s panting now, same as you, his right hand gliding over his stomach to the waistband of his jeans and undoing his belt. 

Your mouth salivates as Steve pushes his jeans aside and the only barrier left between him and the world is Calvin Klein. Your boyfriend has always been good to you, and you can always ask him for anything you want. Impatience overwhelms you and you stop him just as his thumb catches on the waist band of his underwear. 

You crook a finger at him, then place your hands on his butt and pull, beckoning him to sit higher on your body. Away from your needy sex. He looks confused but he follows your direction, asking what you are doing until his voice trails off and he watches you smear melted chocolate from one breast to the other and lick the remains off your hands. 

The way he whispers your name makes you feel powerful. You take up his heavy cock in your hands and stroke him slowly, bringing him to full hardness and coating his shaft in chocolate. 

It's a mess in the making but you are too drunk on lust to stop. 

"Come here," you coax him to scoot just an inch closer, then settle his cock between your breasts and squeeze, forming a channel around his member and staring up at him. 

Steve could just about faint. He braces himself on his thighs and pulls his hips back and thrusts, feeling his cock slide through sticky chocolate and gathering sweat. On the second test thrust, you stick your tongue out and catch the tip which coats the appendage in pre-cum. 

"F-fuck," Steve gasps. 

Was fucking your tits the filthiest thing you two have ever done with each other? The chocolate does bring it to a close second, but no. It’s never something Steve has asked for, or mentioned being interested in, yet still some instinct inside of you drove you to it and made you feel like this was the action that would satisfy your desire to make him feel good. Pleasing you pleases him, which pleases you, and on and on in a delicate dance of kissing and rutting and caressing that makes you feel boneless and loved. 

Steve whimpers and pets his hair back only for it to flop back into his eyes. The strands are becoming damp and sticking to his forehead. You know he needs more, he always makes those sounds when he needs more to finish. So you walk your fingers around his hip and squeeze his ass, parting his cheeks as his hips stutter and his thrusts become not faster but stronger, rougher. It takes no brain cells for him to take up the task of sandwiching your boobs back over his cock for more friction– but not until after he dribbles spit on your skin to lube it up. 

Steve nods his head before you can even ask permission– he wants it– so you go ahead and slide one finger into his hole, slow and careful so as not to cause him discomfort. And Steve moans, the loudest he’s been all morning. 

“Baby…” Sweat drops from the point of his nose and he keens. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come…” 

He almost topples over when you suddenly shove him further up your chest, pulling his cock past your breasts until you can lift your head up and wrap your lips around his tip and suck. His whole body jerks unexpectedly, eyes rolling back into his head and his glasses falling off completely without him noticing. You set them aside as far as you can and push him forward again, trying to use your body to tell him what you wanted from him since your mouth was full. 

“Okay, okay…” Steve mutters as he repositions himself and begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. 

He growls upon feeling you moan with praise, the vibrations pressing right against the sensitive underside of his tip thanks to your playful tongue. You take him further, further, his cock inches deeper until it’s about halfway and then he jerks back just in time for the first rope to paint your chin. 

Shaking and high, Steve watches through his lashes as you greedily suck and swallow his load, his whole cock pink from use beneath the mixture of chocolate and spit. You release his cock with a pop and lick the come off of your chin as best you can, then smile like a cat with creme. Adrenaline drains from his body and he feels like you did when you woke up, relaxed and tingling all over his body. He rolls to the side almost tumbling onto the floor as your bed is unexpectedly narrow compared to his and he waddles off to provide clean-up.

He does yelp when your finger pops out of his ass, not realizing you hadn’t removed it until he stepped away from the bed and his noise makes you laugh so hard your sides hurt. 

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he says as he returns to wipe you down with a warm, clean washcloth. “Valentine’s Day is supposed to be about you, not blowing me!” 

“Valentine’s Day is about us,” you correct him mirthfully. “And I’ll do whatever I want with your body if you let me.” 

He chuckles and sighs, slipping into your bed and curling his arm under your shoulders until you are strewn out on his chest. His heart beats steady in his chest and is already lulling you back into the clutches of sleep. But Steve has one more thing to say before you drift off. 

“Just give me a few minutes of rest, okay? And then I’m going to spend the rest of the night until dinner– when I am taking you to Enzo’s by the way– making you feel so fucking good, you will never be able to masturbate again.”

"Promises, promises," you purr with contentment.

Other Valentines | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment, drop an anonymous message, or reblog if you wanna show me and my work some love! More sexy holiday fics to come leading up to the Fourteenth!

[scribeofmorpheus]

Robin’s Girl [3/4]

Pairing: Robin x (OC) Clara | Steve Harrington x Reader

Sequel to: Meet Cute | Chapter List

Chapter Title: Bad Reputation | Words: 1.8k

Note: I know this chapter is short, sorry for that, I just lost my writing mojo these past few days and I’m hoping to get it back for a long and fluffy finale. And who knows, I may just do another Christmas Special for this series too, somewhere down the line.

If you enjoyed this story don’t be afraid to like, reblog or comment. I don’t bite. Taglist is open just send an ask.

Playlist by Ari ♥

~

Clara rubbed circles onto her best friends back while they sat in her empty bathtub, legs dangling out of the tub just like when they were kids.

A box of tissues placed between her folded legs so she could easily reach down and hand Y/N a new tissue when she needed it. The room was filled with sounds of soft hiccups and stuttering breaths between silent sobs.

Y/N had always been a silent crier, it panged at Clara's heart to see her so conflicted.

Robin had stayed with Steve to carry out her own respective best-friend duties that consisted of throwing things at Steve while asking him "Hey dingus, what the fuck did you do?" repeatedly. At least that's what Clara kept picturing after she left Steve's big, empty house with Y/N tucked under her arm.

"I- I… just, ugh! I hate this!" Y/N grumbled. "We've never fought like this before!"

"I don't get the big problem here," Clara handed her a tissue. "I thought you wanted to have the whole small town family, white picket fence and four-bedroom house aesthetic. Not to mention, raise the perfect two and a half ratio of kids with Mr Perfect Hair?"

Y/N laughed feebly, before sniffling. "Yeah, eventually. When I'm like thirty-five and have already started working on my crow’s feet after having spent my twenties doing dumb shit like getting a terrible tattoo and renting a shitty apartment with no heating!"

"I take it he isn't planning on leaving Hawkins anytime soon?"

Y/N shook her head, her hair bouncing about. A stray strand hit Clara in the eye, making her recoil and blink agitated tears away.

"And to think, if we'd been popular, we'd probably be in the same situation as him," Clara tried to cheer her up, but Y/N just kept her chin tucked under her neck.

"Don't joke, you're bad at it," She said flatly. "Besides, it’s not just about him being reluctant to send out college applications. There’s something else... He's got a secret, I can feel it. I was fine with it at first, I mean everyone is entitled to their secrets. I just always figured he'd tell me, you know... when he was ready, too. But..."

"But it's been a year and he still hasn't told you," Clara finished.

"Yeah..." Y/N sighed. "Whatever his secret is… It's part of the reason why he won't leave."

"Okay, that's it!" Clara sat up from the tub and yanked Y/N with her.

"Wha--"

"We aren't going to sit in here and mope about like those women in that shitty TV drama my mother lives and breathes by!” Clara’s face assured Y/N that she wasn’t having any of this mopey bullshit. “We're young and deserving of a good weekend! Now wipe those tears away, put on some tacky makeup and dust off the most questionable outfit in my wardrobe. We're long overdue for a girl’s night."

Clara marched Y/N into her bedroom and pried the untidy closet doors apart, clothes falling out in the process.

"Where are you going?" Y/N asked when Clara turned to leave.

"To hotwire my dad’s convertible!" She flashed her pearly whites mischievously.

"Can't you just look for the keys?"

“Don’t want to waste any time!”

***

Robin lifted her hands in hopeless prayer that Steve would see reason.

"Why won’t you just tell her why you're so afraid to leave?" She threw a pillow at Steve's head for the umpteenth time in a row.

Steve deflected the pillow easily, using it to lean his chin on instead.

"Yeah, because that would go just swimmingly," Steve rolled his eyes before rambling in a fake voice: "Oh, uh, hey Y/N I have to tell you something. The reason I don't want to leave is... well, believe it or not, Hawkins is smack-dab in the middle of some sort of hot spot for a creepy mind-flaying creature from a dark dimension known as the Upside Down and no matter how hard I try to move on from that act, every time I close my eyes I'm reminded of all the very real things that go bump in the night!"

Steve's hands shook subtly as he ran them through his hair, clearing away long stray hairs.

"Okay, but Steve, you do realise if most people knew what we knew they'd want to leave Hawkins because of the fact it was a hotspot for weird shit!" Robin tried to reason with him.

"And if everyone who knows about this shit leaves, what happens then? What happens if that thing returns and there's no one to stop it?"

Robin slammed her hands on the table, "You're one guy Steve. You're not Eleven or Hopper, you don't have superpowers or a badge and gun. What could you do all by yourself? Yeah, you managed to knock out one Russian, but that was once. What would you do if it was an army or... that creepy flesh monster? Throw a firework at it and hope for the best?"

"I've got my trusty bat!" Steve said defensively as he looked away from his best friend.

Robin groaned, "That bat isn't even yours, it's Nancy's!"

"Hey, don't shit talk the bat," Steve pointed at Robin.

"Whatever," she shook her head before plopping down next to him on the couch. "I just don't get why you'd risk letting this amazing girl slip away from you just for a hypothetical. You love her Steve! I know you do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have nearly crashed your car twice in one day when we went to pick her up from the bus station."

Steve rested his head on Robin's shoulder, eyes turning glassy, "It's just… what if something happens and he needs me and I'm not around to be there for him?"

Robin lowered her voice when she saw how conflicted Steve appeared, "You mean Dustin?"

"Yeah..."

A small smile crept onto her face, "You mean the kid who was able to build a super radio tower just so he could talk to his girlfriend from camp, that kid?”

“When you put it like that...”

”Trust me, if he needed you and you weren't around, you best be damn sure he'd find a way to get a hold of you."

Steve chuckled before he sat up, the phone's high pitched ringing disturbing their moment.

"I'll get it," Robin offered.

Steve tucked himself into the couch with a blanket as he stared blankly at the muted TV screen.

"Hello," Robin's voice barely a whisper from across the room. "Yeah? Oh- uh… I'll see how Steve feels about it first, he's kinda down. Yeah, sure. I'll call you back in a sec."

Robin set the phone down and stood in front of the TV screen to get Steve's full attention.

“Hey, can’t you see I’m pretending to watch that?”

"So… Clara called. Said she's got something planned and asked if I could make it. Just say the word and I’ll call her back and cancel."

Steve took a moment before he pulled the blanket closer to his chin, "Nah, go. I'll be fine. I think some time alone with my thoughts is just what I need."

Robin bent down to look him in the eye, "You sure?"

"Yeah, no point in both of us being miserable. Go, salvage what's left of the day."

“Fine,” Robin gave in. “But I’m going to call you a babysitter.”

“A babsitter?” Steve sounded confused.

“Right after I call Clara back.”

Robin ruffled his hair affectionately before making her way to the phone to dial Clara's number.

"Just make sure to write down the address of where you're going in case you guys need me for anything!" Steve shouted as he unmuted the TV.

***

Clara honked the horn of her dad's convertible, the top rolled down, night lights beaming brightly against the pitch-black road with no working street lights.

Her best friend was laying across the seats in the back, forearm draped over her eyes as she let out less than eager noises.

Robin rushed from Steve's house still in the clothes she borrowed from Clara earlier.

Robin motioned to open the passenger door but child lock was still on, Clara reached across her seat and opened the door from the passenger side.

"All set?" Clara asked with a large smile on her face.

"I think so," Robin shrugged.

Clara reached into the glove compartment, her hand grazing Robin's knee making them both exchange heated looks. After an awkward laugh, Clara grabbed a handful of cassette tapes and placed them on Robin's thighs.

"You're designated DJ! Y/N is in no state to operate the radio unless you want to listen to sad romance ballads by Heart!" Clara joked.

"Ugh, love is deeeaaaaad!" Y/N said bitterly.

Robin's eyes went wide, her lips pressed closed to keep a laugh from escaping. "What do we want to listen to?"

"Dealers choice," Clara winked before shifting gears and driving away from Hawkins for the night.

Robin read all the song titles written in different colour pen or marker and finally made a decision. She popped open the plastic case, took out the tape and jammed it into the radio. After rewinding the tape she pressed play on the clunky button and Bad Reputation by Joan Jett blared out of the cars static fizzling speakers.

***

The queue to get into the club was long. Clara, Robin and Y/N had been standing out in the cold in less than warm apparel for about twenty minutes.

"Ugh, Clara it's been forever! Let's just go back home so I can drown in a tub of chocolate chip ice-cream and watch re-runs of Baywatch!" Y/N groaned childishly, tugging on Clara's leather jacket.

Clara sighed, "Not a chance. Those two things are ingredients for disaster. Gimmie a sec."

Clara excused herself from Robin and Y/N and made her way to the bouncer at the door. After a few minutes of conversing and pointing to the back of the line, Clara wore the bouncer down -they seemed quite chummy with one another- before she flagged Robin and a moody looking Y/N over.

Robin ducked her head to try and block out the glaring looks from the people still stuck in the line while Y/N apologised to each person her eyes landed on.

Once through the heavy steel doors and down a corridor that was so tight it felt like the walls would cave around them, Clara opened her arms with a smug smile on her face and a slight nod to the beat of the loud music coming from the live band.

"Alas, ladies… Welcome to my mecca!" Clara said excitedly as she turned to look at the bewildered Robin and droopy faced Y/N. "Now, let’s get us some drinks!"

"Uhhh, finally, a good idea!" Y/N cheered as she led the charge to the cramped bar.

Clara bit back a laugh as she leaned in to whisper in Robin's ear, "Something tells me I’ll have my work cut out for me babysitting Mrs Perfect Hair!"

Robin chuckled, "Sometimes I think we are practically their guardian angels!"

Clara cocked her head to the side, a sneaky grin toying with her facial muscles, "Did you just call me an angel?"

Robin blushed, "Wha- No, no… I- I didn't mean it in that way."

Clara laughed as they tried not to get separated in the large crowd, "No, I think that's exactly what you meant."

Clara winked just as she heard her best friend shout without any reservation, "Give me whatever has the highest alcohol to sugar ratio! In fact, make that two!"

"That's my cue to make sure she doesn't give herself alcohol poisoning," Clara yelped with wide eyes as she raced passed the still blushing Robin.

***

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[defectivehearts]

Was that CHRIS WOOD? Oh no no, that was just KAI PARKER, a CANON CHARACTER from THE VAMPIRE DIARIES. They are 22 years old and ARE aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here?     It’s been a few months he is here. what is your character’s job?    He’s a law student and is an intern at a lawyer’s office. where has your character been pulled from in their fandom?    Before season 6, he comes straight from January 1994. has any magic affected your character?    Nope. any other information?     Well this is gonna be a trip. Just so you know, I’ve been playing Kai for so long and I have so many headcanons that it’s probably going to be a long way to write it all. 

So first of all, let’s be clear and fix a mistake from the show (because, let’s be real, Julie Plec knows nothing about psychology and we all understood that, didn’t we?): Kai is not a psychopath. Now that we cleared that out, as I am taking him before the May 10th events, he isn’t even close to it. He sure is unstable, closer to a sociopath (antisocial behavior) and an alexithymic person (difficulties to understand, distinguish or talk about emotions). 

For who doesn’t know Kai, let me give you a small description of who he is. Kai is the first boy of a family of eight children, all witches. After years of being unable to do magic, the reality about him came out: he was not able to produce his own magic but could steal it from others. It got his parents to consider him as an abomination, and slowly put him on the side. For what’s canon that however I won’t play for I took him before that, on the night of May 10th, 1994, Kai slaughtered most of his family. He murdered four of his siblings out of anger and got locked in a magic world (prison world) for punishment.

Now for what’s headcanons. 

• Kai never got to be close to anyone. At first, when his parents found out he was a siphon, they tried holding back his powers with gloves but Kai was often taking it off to do things and forgetting about it. However, what made Joshua snap and put Kai away from his siblings was his mother’s death. It was an accident, but out of frustration and anger, Kai siphoned all of her powers, at the point of killing her. He was still really young at that time, but it started the moment his father stopped believing in him and started to think it wasn’t worth it to have him around. • He tried sometimes to go to the magic sessions his siblings were doing just to look. He always loved magic, it was his ideal, completely inaccessible, that he wanted to watch, to touch, to have. However, Joshua took that away from him, and what was his passion turned into an obsession.  • Magic was like a drug. After the first hits going through his hands and his veins, he always wanted more and more. But he tried to fight it off, to hold back even though his hands started to hurt for more, and his blood pumped through his veins, starting to almost feel like acid. He tried to keep it low as much as he could. • Even though he wasn’t allowed near anyone - and was homeschooled for that -, Kai had a best friend. Actually the first person he ever cared about, the first that ever cared about him. He was often going out when his father wasn’t looking to go see them. Eventually, he got a crush on them, but never really said it out loud. They were often letting him take some magic, what he felt like he needed to go through the days. Until the day in 1993 where Kai accidentally murdered them too, and out of fear, hid their body without ever telling anyone. Eventually, everyone started to think they ran away without telling anyone. • So he started to withdraw on himself, not speaking out much, not opening up to anyone. He felt like he needed to keep all of what he felt in him, if he didn’t want it to leak. But almost every week, he was going where he had buried his best friend to apologize for what he had done. 

TL;DR: Kai was abused by his father for most of his life, which only got worse when he accidentally killed his mother by siphoning her dry. He was homeschooled, wasn’t allowed near other people, and accidentally murdered the only person he was close to, and on who he had a terrible crush. It’s basically at that point that I will take him.

For other headcanons that are adding a little bit more to the character, there you go:

• Kai grew up in a family both catholic (his father) and jewish (his mother). He was doing all of the holidays, both Christmas and Hanukkah every year. But after his ten years old, jewish holidays started to feel bitter and not as great as it used to be with his mother. So slowly, he started to stay away from family holidays, and to do his own in his bedroom, all alone. • He was born on May 21st (and technically was about to turn 23 when he murdered his siblings in the show) and is the youngest of the twins, Jo is the oldest, and actually Kai does have an inferiority complex about it. • Fight me, he’s left-handed. It’s one thing he had in common with his mother, along with his love for food and karaoke. • He’s obsessed by video games and TV shows, mostly Baywatch actually. When he was a bit younger he actually was in love with Yasmine Bleeth, even though he thought Jeremy Jackson was quite cute. • Kai is polysexual/pansexual but demiromantic. That’s just so all of you know, so I don’t have to say it all the time. • Even though he has troubles explaining how he feels, Kai always wanted to help people. Sure, he has anger issues and work a lot on himself, but his real goal since he was a kid was to help people as much as he can. It is why he tries to become a lawyer, so he can help people that no one else’s understand, who might have done a few mistakes accidentally, but who aren’t bad people in the end.

[a-lbeit]

may 2017 faves

amazon student film screenings: a couple weeks ago, i saw an ad on the sidebar of facebook claiming that i could go see movies for free via this sort of crowdfunding scheme called ourscreen. i, of course, clicked on it because i love being in a movie theater environment and i love free things–although i wasn’t too sure about the credibility of this ad. but i went to the site anyway, and evidently, amazon student has a partnership called “amazon student big screen” with this site, where any student can see complimentarily the films being shown at various theaters throughout london. when i saw the ad, there were three showings in the coming weeks: pulp fiction, moonlight, and baywatch. i had never seen any of these (well, obviously i hadn’t seen baywatch, since it hadn’t come out yet, but you know what i mean), and i was so enthralled with this idea. the screenings have to have a couple hundred people sign up for them, but that happens easily. i was only able to sign up for the pulp fiction screening because i already had plans for the nights of the other two, but man, am i glad i was able to be a part of this scheme at all. if you’re an amazon student member, you even get free popcorn and a drink at the theater. if i was only able to see one of the three listed, i’m glad it was pulp fiction, as i had never seen it before and it’s obviously revered. to see it (as a film that’s a couple decades old, so not so often shown on the silver screen) in a theater as your first viewing is really spectacular in an age when i otherwise most likely would have watched it on a 12 inch laptop screen. it was also interesting, if nothing else, to be completely amongst people my own age–even though i saw a couple of flashes going off throughout the film because a few people just had to share with their friends their “cultural enlightenment” of seeing a goddamn movie, including a flash from the phone of the guy sitting next to me, it was all right; it didn’t affect my experience too much. unfortunately, no other screenings have been made, but i sincerely hope there will be another one i can attend before leaving london. 

paul simon: i listened to “you can call me al” because i didn’t know it that well and i had always thought it sounded like “jump” by van halen--so i wanted to fully be able to distinguish between the two (sorry about the ignorance). i don’t think that anymore, since i now know both of the tracks pretty well, but after that, i just got to listening to the rest of the graceland album. i haven’t really listened to his other albums (lol) but i’ve been appreciating his style of singing a lot over the past month--take the line in “diamonds on the soles of her shoes” where he says “the poor boy changes clothes and puts on aftershave/ to compensate for his ordinary shoes.” simon makes his lyrics sound very conversational and natural, which is not a common trait for singers to have. also, his use of worldbeat is quite nice to listen to. he’s just got a really nice overall sound.

harry styles: i (like everyone else) really appreciate the direction that harry styles has gone in over the past year. the clothing, the attitude, the mannerisms, the music. i would say that i’m more of a fan of him as a person than as a musician, but i certainly do like the music he’s put out. is his album the greatest one ever made? no, but nothing is. it’s a great first album and i am absolutely grateful for the style of it. so many classic rock influences. i’ve really been loving that there are songs in the pop charts now that are straying from the sort of music that caters to the clubbing demographic--i hate saying that, because that music is not necessarily worth any less than the music i’m talking about, but i really don’t like it, and i really hate the club scene in general. but songs like styles’s, miley cyrus’s new song, even selena gomez’s sampling of talking heads--they’re a bit refreshing, and i know that this kind of music has never died, but it does disappear from the hot 100 sometimes (apart from the complete blandness of people like ed sheeran--and even he’s dipping into the club scene now)--and it’s nice to get it back. at any rate, harry styles has completely won over the world in the past month, and i’m happy he did.

the partridge family: i’ve loved the partridge family since my parents and i watched the show together when i was maybe 8 or 9. i received their “best of” cd around that time, and i have very specific memories of loving hearing tracks like “echo valley 2-6809” and “sunshine” while riding along those never-ending highways on trips to see family. i also remember not liking the end of the album as much as the beginning, which is funny to me, as i now greatly prefer those last few songs (along with many from different albums that i have more completely learned about in the last couple of years). anyway, i saw recently on the episodes wikipedia page (while refreshing my memory of plot lines in search of an episode of the show to watch) that the “soul club” episode had been ranked in 1997 as #78 on tv guide’s list of 100 greatest episodes. i also saw that the song “bandala” was performed in that episode (a song i really love), so i thought, “why the hell not?” i watched that episode and the one where the runaway girl gives the family a million dollars (i have really specific memories of the shots of the bus going through that pretty off-the-chart road–as someone who’s recently been really into the idea of the outdoors, i wanted to see this episode again) and maybe another one in the past month, along with listening to some of their music (specifically “morning rider on the road”–cassidy’s wistful tone really pleases me), and it’s really been a highlight. the show has its annoying moments among the characters, but that’s bound to happen when there are little kids who are part of the regular cast. at any rate, may was a month in which i spent more time than usual thinking about the partridge family. 

seinfeld: as a classic show that’s available for streaming on amazon prime uk, i figured i should really watch the whole series before i go back to the states at the end of june. i’m actually more than on track, with just a season and a half to go (i started probably in late february)–but i was worried for a hot minute there that i wouldn’t finish it. sometimes, i just have to stop watching after a couple of episodes because it gets to be too much, and there have been points where i’ve gone a week without even thinking about watching it. it’s grown on me, though, i suppose. however, there are numerous episodes that make me anxious from the sheer stupidity of the characters and the problems that they could so fucking easily get themselves out of if they thought for a minute about their actions. i think for me to purely enjoy a show, i do have to like the characters, and it’s somewhat hard with seinfeld. sure, george has given me a lot of laughs, but he’s such an asshole. that whole engagement to susan? selfish, lazy, and not funny. also–lazy writing, in my opinion, killing her off like that. i know they had to get rid of her because the character didn’t fit, comedically, with the other characters, but still. just break off the damn engagement and never see her again. at least that’s believable. they should have never written in that engagement to begin with. it didn’t make any sense. and jerry, wishy-washy as hell, indirect, and much too careless with his money. i suppose that kramer is the best character, but i think elaine is just as good. she keeps the boys in check, although she really needs to get her foot out of her mouth. i don’t actually have much to say about kramer. he’s definitely the least annoying one. but, at any rate, there have been some hilarious moments on the show, and i’m at the point where i really want to finish it–it’s an accomplishment to look forward to. plus, i really have enjoyed watching it this past month, sometimes five or six episodes in a day. 

“sister golden hair,” america: i’ve liked this song for a while now, but after seeing the film miss stevens, the song piqued my interest even more. it features prominently in that movie, and although i didn’t like the movie itself too much--moreover, i really didn’t like how the song was featured in it--i still got more into the track after viewing the film. the guitar, the slide, the timbre, the overall sonically pleasing nature of it. i don’t have very much to say about it because it doesn’t strike me (lyrically or instrumentally) the way that my previous song faves have, but i just don’t seem to get tired of it. fave lyrics: “i been one poor correspondent, and i been too too hard to find”--i’m just fond of beckley’s phrasing of this line, really.