#taking the very middle school idea of 'what if there was a half angel half demon and they had magic controlled by their FEELINGS'

[noriaki-kak]

Can I hear more about Ava possibly?

HELLO! Sorry for taking truly an eon to reply, around the time you sent the message I was in the middle of moving. Between that and the holidays responding got away from me but I still really wanted to answer! Better late than never I suppose, so without further ado...

So explaining Ava's story requires explaining a good amount of world building. I think Thea has mentioned Demiphics before but the tldr is that they're the children of angels and demons. Heaven and hell have a long history not just with each other but also with Demiphics. Officially, while in the current era relationships between angels and demons are allowed, they're heavily stigmatized and they ARE banned from having children.

As an aside about heaven and hell for context. When I was building this world I knew I wanted it to be an angels and demons/heaven and hell, everything and the kitchen sink sort of setting. But to also kinda look at "Hey a world where people are judged by an arbitrary set of rules and sent to a nice place when they die or a place that sucks would be kinda bad no matter how you slice it."

I wanted to explore a world where heaven and hell are made, not by divine order as a machine that works naturally as intended, but as a concept that multiple institutions are seeking to fulfill. Hell functions as a collection of scattered monarchies, hell wears it's antiquated ideas on it's sleeve. There's the pits of burning hellfire and the society down there is unjust and nightmarish to live in, but demons and the humans cast down there ultimately just have to go about a daily life. It's not fun, it's hard to make a living, but you can still make friends and go to karaoke on the weekend.

Heaven is a very different brand of evil. They hide their ills behind fake pleasantries. They take the lions share of the work when it comes to "judging" humanity (hell is less interested in partaking in heaven's bureaucracy, as long as heaven sends them souls the higher ups are happy to leave the work to them). Heaven and hell are both vast but the first levels you'll see of heaven are seas of clustered office buildings. People's souls are judged by committees of angels, and there's a lot of people thus a lot of committees. A soul hangs in the balance and it's fate can be decided because George the Angel didn't drink enough coffee this morning and just really wants to wrap this up so he can go home.

There is no authority on who's good and bad, there's just rooms full of people arguing with bias and sticking people where they think they should go to meet a quota for the day. Over centuries the guidelines on good and bad actions are constantly being updated and changed, the fates of hundreds of humans are left to the whims of management. There have even been scandals in regards to higher ups pushing for harsher judgement when the budget for processing new souls into heaven gets a little tight.

Thanks to their intent to fulfill a role, humans who make it into heaven are treated fairly well! It's still a living moving society with quite a few problems and not some utopia but your average human is treated to a decent standard of living. This comes with the neglect of their own angels however. They pat themselves on the back for being better than hell, for being a more democratic society, but the angels at the top are largely from well off established families. Working class angels are sort of viewed as disposable.

That's actually a huge problem shared between heaven and hell, demons and angels both are treated as VERY disposable. An attitude largely influenced by the fact that both come into being in wide variety of ways. They can still be born the good old fashioned way but they're just as likely to be born from heaven/hell itself. "I don't have parents, I just popped out of the ground one day as a baby." is not an uncommon story sdfgh.

That brings us to demiphics, I think @dapper-comedy mentioned some of this when talking about Bishop (who will come into the picture again later with Ava hehe) I began writing down all the lore I could off the top of my head about them but then I remembered that I have an entire google doc concerning them! So thankfully I can just share this. (theres a tiny bit of info abt halos at the end which i havent covered BUT yknow more extra fun facts)

ASSUMING the document has been read, I can dive right in with Ava now! Ava ended up under heaven's care as a baby, she lived in the training facility for as long as she could remember and knew absolutely nothing about her birth parents or the circumstances in which she ended up there.

As a young child, the rotating cast of caretakers mean she didn't truly have a constant presence in her life, there were familiar faces but she wasn't allowed to grow truly attached to any of them.

They fed her the propaganda from a young age, telling her how if she's successful and that if she can learn to control her feelings, she can be free and travel not just heaven as an honored solider but see other realms as well.

Very early on she becomes fascinated and obsessed with having wings, demiphics wings manifest as non-physical extensions of their magic. So without her magic, she cannot have wings. It becomes the one thing she truly consciously wants for. The researchers and caretakers notice this and use this to "motivate" her.

Another formative memory for her when she's little, is meeting one of heaven's few success stories. A fully fledged Demiphic solider by the name of Zenith. She's not exactly the warmest and to put it bluntly she speaks like a bloodborne npc (She's got her own whole thing going on sdfghj) but the meeting inspires Ava and cements in her mind that she wants to be a soldier so she can be free and earn her wings.

Her childhood can be described as 1. Monotonous Martial Training and 2. Daily Evil Dark Therapy. She is raised with the intention of having her be able to fully control her feelings constantly. She's not allowed to form emotional connections, she's never allowed to have her own organic feelings.

As you can imagine this creates an intense disconnect between Ava and her own emotions. It's interesting because she's not trained to be emotionless, she's trained to be able to feel any emotion she needs at any moment. She's taught emotions in regards to what kind of magic it corresponds to.

She comes off as very congenial and cheerful because she's also taught about what emotions are expected from her in visible social settings as well.

She lives this deeply lonely, isolated, controlled life until she's 18 years old (or whatever the equivalent in angel/demon years, time moves weird in the different realms)

Around this time a new face enters the picture, an angel by the name of Katrina. Katrina is an angel that works for the government, she used to be a diplomat who traveled to hell but after a year long sabbatical on earth she returned to heaven and transferred to a different position within the government.

Her new position had her visiting the demiphic training facility very frequently and around this time is when she met Ava. When Ava turned eighteen she was given a lot more freedom around the facility. Thanks to her very consistent and good behavior, she was given permissions to move more freely and speak to more people as a sort of test of her training.

Most people passing through that spoke with her were cordial but kept their distance, either out of fear of her or fear of getting in trouble with heaven. Katrina is the first exception, she immediately has a fondness for Ava the first time they speak for a very specific reason. She sees her own child in Ava.

See, when Katrina was a diplomat she spent a lot of time in hell around a lot of important demons. During a party she may have had a one night stand with the ruler of the first layer of hell (He may be the ruler of the first layer aka The City of Dis but he's honestly more of a figurehead that just kinda swings his power around and parties. His many many children and employees do most of the actual work).

And that year long sabbatical she spent on earth afterwards may have had something to do with that. But yeah Katrina had a demiphic child of her own, and being a government worker she was deeply familiar with how her child would be treated in heaven if they knew. So she had her kid in secret and left him at the doorstep of the castle in hell with the hopes he'd have a better life as a prince in hell. (This is a whole entire other character I have named Odd who has a whole ton of other stuff going on but sorry my sweet lad, this aint about you right now asdfgh)

Anywho, Katrina was honestly sort of haunted by this and parts of her regret not trying to find a way to stay with her kid. She had always wanted to raise a kid but life never worked out that way for her. But she was also terrified of being found out and thus having him be taken in by heaven, and so she swallowed that pain and told herself that it was for the best. (She had a small hope that one day she may be able to meet him, and though she never expected he would forgive her or consider her his mother, she bought him a little birthday gift on his birthday every year and stored it away for him just in case.)

When she meets Ava, it's impossible for her heart not to ache, she's around the same age her kid would be. It only takes a few conversations to see how badly heaven messed this kid up. As for Ava, it is instant. Katrina is the first person in her entire life to honestly show even a bit of openness to her. It's like a wildfire, heaven kept the flame burning low but the moment it had any fuel it flared.

It terrified Ava in a way because losing the slightest bit of control of her feelings threatened her future freedom. That plus... it was almost hard for to recognize what she was feeling at all, it was hard for her to even understand what was different or that this was the first person she'd met who considered how she felt when they talked.

It was a kindness she almost couldn't understand, so for a year they consistently crossed paths and spoke. It was rare they had a moment alone to speak, almost always being monitored, but when they did immediately Ava would ask questions she knew she wasn't allowed to and Katrina answered despite the risk.

Katrina is an impulsive person, and she's very aware of this, so she tried her best to not get too invested. She told herself she'd visit and try and be a positive influence on her life but she absolutely couldn't do anything that'd run afoul of heaven......... well she tried sdfgh.

One conversation about six months into knowing each other strikes a real cord. Katrina has realized how hard Ava has bought into heaven's propaganda and Ava's talking about how hard she's working to earn her wings one day.

Katrina is absolutely taken aback by this, because Ava already has wings, they're just sealed away. When Katrina say this, Ava retorts with well yeah, but the only way my magic gets unsealed is by becoming a soldier. And Katrina tells her that other magic user can break that seal, that it's not that heaven will give her wings, it's that they're keeping something that's already hers away from her.

This is a turning point for both of them, this forms a crack in Ava's perception of heaven, and this makes Katrina know she needs to get Ava out of here.

In the following six months, Ava opens up more and starts to question things, starts to struggle with her own feelings and realize she doesn't know who she is. That she doesn't know anything about herself. She feels suddenly lost as her interactions with Katrina makes her realize she hasn't been living as a person. She struggles to find her own preferences, and comes up short, the only things she's ever desired is her ability to fly.

And Katrina makes a plan with her for her escape, promising her that she'll help her fly.

I won't get into the nitty gritty details of the escape plan (mainly because i change my mind of the specifics frequently sdfghj) but around her nineteenth birthday, with the help of Katrina, Ava escapes the facility.

Katrina manages to get away with it despite being questioned because she has a close friend who can secretly harbor Ava.

Avery (another character who has a whole entire in-depth story because I have Too Many Characters and they are all interconnected.) Has a workshop for his art and tinkering on the floating islands of third layer of heaven.

So basically what happens is Katrina shows up to Avery's workshop in the middle of the night with a blanket draped over Ava and goes like "Okay listen, I can explain, you have to promise not to get mad at me." Before revealing Ava and her very obvious horns that stick out like a sore thumb in heaven.

Despite his complaints about the recklessness of the entire situation, he allows her to stay. They eventually get her a pendant to glamour her in her day to day, so she can go around without being immediately spotted.

And with that she joins a little crew of people who hang out with a common goal in heaven! I call them the heist crew bc everyone who hangs out there has a bone to pick with the government in heaven, as well as their own goals. Sometimes that culminates in them stealing objects or information from various government facilities and using it to further their own means. But also it's kinda like that thing where it's like "Oh we're a club that does this!" but ninety percent of the time they just hang out and slack off instead of doing what they're supposed to sdfghj.

I won't go over everyone since this is supposed to be about Ava and this is meant to focus on her but she becomes quite close with a number of people who frequent Avery's workshop!

Avery himself is the first person she latches onto. He has an aloof detached sort of air at first but it very quickly becomes clear how caring an attentive he is. He was once a classically trained artist turn tinkerer and many years ago he suffered an "accident" (it's a long story) that injured the left side of his body greatly, causing him to lose an arm, leg, wing, and eye. With the help of his father long after the event, he crafted himself prosthetics out of marble and gold and enchanted them to move lightly and fluidly.

He can't always wear them, and most of the time he gets around his shop in a wheelchair, but he is particularly attached to the arm he designed and created. So even when he isn't using it, it's never far from him. His current project is even more ambitious, he's attempting to design wings from scratch through a fusion of machining and magic.

Aside from a desire to create a new wing for himself, he believes that any and all denizens of heaven deserve access to flight. Humans, angels who've lost their wings, and even more controversially, demons.

Ava is intimidated by Avery at first because he's difficult to read, but one night she comes across him experiencing rather bad phantom pains and helps bring him his medication. This breaks the ice between them and once he's feeling more himself, he shows her some of the little trinkets he's working on. Clocks and music boxes and stuff like that. Ava finds herself absolutely enraptured and Avery is amused and excited by how truly interested she is.

They talk long into the night and when dawn is barely peeking over the horizon, he gifts her a little music box that he made some time ago before they part ways for the night (day?) . From here they slowly develop a sibling-like relationship and when Avery tells her about his big project attempting to make wings, she's besides herself with excitement.

See, she's free now, she could unseal her magic, but as she discovers who she is as a person, a creeping fear takes hold. She fears she won't be able to control her magic, and that she could accidentally lash out at the first people she's come to care about. So Avery, as well as Katrina, let her know it's perfectly okay for her to take as long as she needs to. Avery assures her that even if it takes her a lifetime to feel comfortable unsealing her magic, he'll be happy to make mechanical wings for her the moment he gets them working.

Speaking of Ava discovering who she is, the second person she becomes close with is Bishop. Bishop is @dapper-comedy's character and I believe they've spoken about them before! Demiphic, escaped from a cult, fought in fighting rings at the heart of the third layers main floating islands. Currently frequenting Avery's shop and struggling to figure out their relationship with their estranged mother, amateur carpenter. (Thea could probably tell you more details about Bishop overall especially since it's been a moment since we discussed these characters and some details are a little foggy on my end sdfghj)

Ava immediately gravitates towards Bishop. They are MUCH more standoffish than anyone else they've met at the workshop, but I don't think anything could stop Ava from wanting to get to know them. Bishop is the first other Demiphic she's met outside of her confinement, and on top of that their magic is unsealed.

Ava has a deep admiration for them, for the way they wield their power. Their friendship is much more of a slow burn, neither really knowing how to approach each other. But Bishop is one of the first people that helps Ava discover more about herself.

She was trained all her life to act a certain way and so her default is a very pleasant bubbly sort of attitude. As she starts to figure out how to be herself however she discovers that at heart she's really much more of a subdued person. She tends towards a quiet, more monotone set of mannerisms. Her friendship with Bishop helps her discover this.

Around people she doesn't know or when she's uncomfortable and out of her element, she adopts her pleasant exterior. Only around people she's really comfortable around does she let it drop, and Bishop is one of the first people that sees that side of her.

The final person she forms a very strong bond with is a familiar face. None other than Giselle! This takes place a VERY long time after everything that happened with the Braithen Kids (+wonky time dilation stuff with the planes), after Giselle died she was sadly the only one who went to heaven dfghj.

I don't recall exactly how Giselle fell in with the heist crew. (I think it had something to do with Bishop's mother, Rose. But I may be misremembering, Thea correct me if I'm wrong dfghj) but! Once she's there she and Ava really hit it off.

Due to often being bedridden in life Giselle is practically cartwheeling through heaven, unrestrained summer fun. Ava immediately befriends her (she meets her after she's gained a bit more confidence interacting with people) and their friendship acts as a vehicle for Ava to catch up to all the mischief she never got to get up to before.

Giselle shares an intense interest in flying as well, and they both are very invested in Avery's mechanical wings project. Frequently asking him about it and planning their own ill advised test flight experiments to help him gather data (which he Did Not ask them to do).

And that's most of the info about Ava! There's small things I could mention. Like how she develops a love of birds spurred on by a little bird necklace Katrina gets for her on a day they decide is her birthday (since she doesn't know the actual date) And how it's the first gift she receives in her entire life, but certainly not the last.

Or how Avery and Katrina take her out to buy clothes for the first time since she really doesn't have much to wear. She struggles making choices for herself, since her clothes were always given to her. Her entire life was light flowing white dresses, embroidered with constellations, and supplied to her directly. She initially picks out similar things, uncertain what else to do. But then she sees a sturdy bomber jacket, and feels a fragile yearning for it.

With Avery and Katrina's encouragement, she gets it for herself. It's the first time she makes a choice for herself based on what she herself really wants. Plus it starts her on a path to discovering she prefers more sturdy androgynous fashion.

There is one more thing, a thread me and Thea haven't quite finished... As time passes and she grows more comfortable with her current life and the people around her, she starts to have strange dreams. Dreams of a garden... and in these dreams she sees someone, and feels as though this someone is calling out to her.

The person she sees looks an awful lot like her, a little bit older... She looks almost like... a sister perhaps? *dramatic musical sting*

BUT YES, she has a demiphic sister named Odette (another character from the Epic Mind of Thea) who begins to reach out to her through her dreams. And through this connection perhaps she'll discover more about the circumstances of her birth and just Who this familiar stranger is. Tune in next time to find out more (when me and Thea actually write more of this story sdfghj)

Aside from that as a little bonus for this taking so long, I scrounged up some Ava art! I haven't drawn her in quite a while so these are kinda ancient but they serve their purpose. Writing this is making we wanna draw her again...

and then these three are a series I did drawing some of the Demiphics! In order from left to right we have Ava -> Bishop -> Odd

[horanghaejamjam]

Hallows Eve - {CS}

↪ Summary: Your friends trick you into doing a Halloween ritual that’s supposed to summon a demon. You never believed in demons but do it anyway just to please them. Needless to say you didn’t expect it to work, nor did you expect yourself to end up trapped in the underworld by a demon wishing to claim you as his.

↪ Pairings: Demon prince San x Female presenting reader

↪   Rating: M 18+

↪   Genre: Fluff/Smut/Demon Au/Arranged Marriage/S2L

↪   Word Count: 3.8k

↪ Warnings/Contents: Smut (MDNI), Hard dom/possessive San, Power dynamics (Use of "sir" and "brat"), corruption, unprotected sex marking/biting, multiple orgasms, and body worship, aftercare and San being super soft at the end.

↪ Side Notes: PLEASE READ: This is a collab fic with @kpopidolsangel and is also a submission for the @atinyhalloweenproject this one is for the lovely @kpop-stories-21

Angel came up with the concept as well as made the banner and wrote the first half of this fic. However due to a family emergency she was unable to finish it and asked me to take over the story. All credit to the idea goes to her. I also apologize for the delay on this one and I hope it was worth the wait!

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

There is a common legend that makes its way through your town every October. The legend goes that if you go into the woods at midnight, light a jack-o'-lantern, and recite an ancient poem, that you can summon a deity known as The Demon of the Hallows. The legend then states that anyone who summons him with a kind spirit will be blessed with a special gift, but those without a kind spirit would never be heard from again. You wouldn’t call yourself a skeptic or anything but you were never one to humor the legend. It was something you brushed off as a dumb story high school kids used to scare their friends or younger siblings. Needless to say, never in a million years did you expect to find yourself standing in the middle of the woods with a poorly carved jack-o'-lantern and a lighter. Your friends were hiding behind the trees a few feet away from you, not wanting to take any chances in case this ritual did end up working. 

This had all started during a Halloween party you were attending with your friends. Yunho had been the one to bring up the legend to which Mingi and Wooyoung had insisted that you try it, just to see what would happen. They agreed you had to be the one to do it since you were the most “normal” out of the friend group and before you knew it you were being dragged out of the party and into the woods, Wooyoung stealing one of the carved pumpkins from the porch so you could complete the ritual. 

It was completely dark out, with the moon being the only source of light, barely allowing you to make out the shadows of your friends from where you stood. Your rather thin vampire costume doing very little to shield you from the cold fall breeze, and you didn’t bring a jacket as you hadn’t planned on going outside. Your dress fluttered in the wind and tickled at your legs as you shivered and rubbed at your arm to try and stay warm. 

“This is ridiculous!” you called back, “can’t we just go home, it’s freezing out here!” 

“What’s the matter?” you heard Wooyoung call back to you, “are you scared it will work?”

“I’m not scared of a demon, I'm scared of freezing to death!” you argued back which caused the boys to laugh. 

“You’re so dramatic!” Yunho teased. 

“We only have two minutes until midnight, just do it!” Mingi added. You really wanted to just leave them there and run back to the house, but you knew you would never hear the end of it if you did. 

“You guys are so dead once this is over,” you groaned, setting the pumpkin down on the ground and waiting for the cue to start. Once Wooyoung gave you the go ahead you quickly lit the candle inside the pumpkin and recited the poem as best as you could remember it. The light from the candle flickered in the wind as you waited a moment to see if anything would happen. As expected, nothing did and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I told you guys it wouldn’t work, can we go now?” you called out, only to be met with silence. “Guys?” you tried looking around but you could no longer see the shadows of your friends. You knew they couldn’t have left that quickly without you hearing or seeing them, so your first instinct was that they were hiding from you just to scare you. “Really funny, come on guys I want to go back,” you said, walking over to the tree only to realize there was no one there. The woods fell eerily silent as you began to panic, calling out for your friends and looking around only to find that no one was there, you were completely alone. 

“Why so scared little one?” you quickly turned around to see a figure standing in front of the jack-o'-lantern where you had just been. He stood just a bit taller than you, with wide shoulders and a slim but toned waist. His hair was long, mostly black but you could see white peeking out at the bottom, the strands perfectly slicked back behind two black ram-like horns. He was wearing a black suit with red trim and gold embellishments that matched the gold headpiece he was wearing. Tucked behind him you could just make out the outline of batlike wings, resting against his shoulders. His eyes were sharp as he looked at you, and when you moved closer you could see the red color and cat-like pupil, the charcoal style makeup he was wearing only served to help accentuate his features. If you weren’t intimidated by his presence, you would have found him to be insanely beautiful. 

“I-who are you?” you stuttered out as you walked over to him, causing him to chuckle. 

“You are the one who called me here and yet you don’t know who I am?” he questioned, clearly amused by the situation. You, on the other hand, were terrified as you struggled to form a proper sentence. 

“Wait so you are The Demon of the Hallows? I didn’t think you were real!” you confessed. 

“That’s the name people gave me over the years, but I find that title much too formal,” he mused, “call me San.” You blinked at him in confusion as he moved closer until he was only a foot or so in front of you, smirking to himself as he took a moment to look over you. “You really didn’t believe in me did you? Poor thing, I can sense your confusion from miles away,” he cooed with another laugh, “let me guess you were tricked into doing this weren’t you? Your friends dragged you out here then ran away at the first sign of danger?” Your eyes widened at his observation, staring down at the ground while you played with the hem of your dress. 

“How did you know that?”

“My Sweet Y/N I’ve ruled over these parts for centuries, I know everything. Also you wouldn’t be the first pure soul to find yourself in this predicament,” he explained, reaching a hand out to brush your hair out of your face. You flinched slightly from the sudden contact, but you couldn't deny there was a strange warmth behind his touch, a welcome sensation that nearly had you leaning against his hand as he pulled away. “I must say,” he confessed, “of everyone who has called upon me, you are definitely the most beautiful, and the most innocent. You are exactly what I have been looking for.” With a pleased smile, he stood up straight and offered you his hand, which you took after a moment of hesitation, “Come with me, it’s time I show you your new home.”

“New home?” you questioned, “what do you mean new home? And what do you mean I’m what you’ve been looking for?” 

“I have waited years for the right soul to turn up, to complete me and help tie me to the mortal world and I have finally found it,” San explained as he tugged you along, “you my darling, are going to be my bride.”

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

You don’t remember much of what happened after San pulled you away, almost as if you had blacked out. When you woke up, you found yourself tucked into a large bed, having been changed out of your costume and into a red silk nightgown. Your hair was also down and brushed out and your makeup had been removed. You sat up slowly, hugging the black comforter against your body and taking a moment to look around the room. It was a large master bedroom, mainly decorated with black, red, and gold. The bed was on a carved wooden frame with a swirling pattern carved into it at the base. There were also black curtains surrounding the frame that were currently tied up to allow you to see the rest of the room. There were no windows, all the light coming from the chandelier that hung over the middle of the room, casting a warm glow into the otherwise black room. The rest of the furniture that you could see was the same carved wood as the bed frame, and the room was decorated with various paintings and trinkets. 

“I was wondering when you would wake up,” turning your head, you gasped as you saw San standing against the door, “I know the transition to here isn’t the smoothest, but I was starting to worry I may have lost you.”

“Where am I?” you questioned, curling up as much as you could. San looked no different than when you first saw him, and yet his gaze made you feel tiny. 

“You’re home,” he explained as he made his way to the foot of the bed, “and this is your new bedroom. Do you like it? I can always redecorate for you if you want me to.” The warmth in his voice didn’t match his gaze which sent shivers down your body. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to fear him or find comfort in him. 

“I don’t understand,” you whispered, causing him to smile. 

“I know you’re still confused, don’t worry it will all make sense soon enough,” he promised, “for now I want to take this time to really get to know you before I claim you as mine.” You were frozen in place as you watched him remove his suit jacket, his wings practically vanishing to avoid getting in the way. He tossed the garment carelessly to the side, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt before climbing onto the bed and making his way over to you. You gasped as the comforter was removed and you were pinned to the bed, San crawling on top of you and resting his weight on your hips to keep you from moving. Your arms were pulled above your head, San pinning them above you before snapping his fingers and leaning back. You felt a cold metal appear around your wrists and glanced up to see black chains connecting you to the bedpost, the metal jingling lightly as you tugged at the new restraint. 

“Can’t have you running away now can we?” San teased, “I really did want to take my time with you at first but you have no idea how long I have been waiting for this moment. I don’t plan on waiting any longer.” With that he leaned down and connected your lips in a rough but passionate kiss, biting at your lip as his hands eagerly explored your body. You were frozen in place at first, taken aback by the rough movements. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but most of your previous sexual experiences had been rather vanilla so this was a brand new experience for you. Eventually you were able to melt into him, slowly starting to kiss back and react which earned you a pleased hum from San. His hands trailed back up to the neckline of your nightgown and he quickly ripped the fabric from your body as his tongue slipped its way into your mouth. You gasped at the sudden chill that ran down your body, only to moan as you felt his hands return to your chest. 

“Look at you,” he groaned as he pulled away from the kiss, “such a pretty innocent thing in such a sinful position, I love it.” His fingers pinched at your nipples which had you arching your back and moaning softly. 

“San please,” you whined out, tugging weakly on your restraints. San gave you a questioning look and clicked his tongue, pinching your nipple harder to make you squirm. 

“What did you just call me?” he asked, before you could answer he reached up and grabbed your chin to make sure you were looking at him. “As much as I love to hear you beg for me, you are only allowed to address me as Sir, understood?” You nodded as best as you could with his grip on you which only made him huff, “Use your words brat.”

“Yes Sir,” you muttered out, making him smirk. 

“Good, now lay still and behave while I claim what’s mine!” He let go of your face and repositioned himself, gripping your thighs tightly and spreading them so he could fit between them. You knew you were going to have bruises later, but that didn’t matter right now as San began trailing kisses up your leg. He trailed kisses up the inside of your thigh before biting down, relishing in the way you gasped and squirmed against his touch. He sucked on the spot until he was sure a mark was formed before running his tongue across it and moving to the other thigh to give it the same treatment. He continued the action multiple times until your thighs were visibly covered in bite marks, each time relishing in the noise you made at the combination of pain and pleasure. You tried closing your legs but his grip tightened every time you moved to keep them open, forcing you to lay still until he was satisfied with his work. 

“You look so much prettier covered in my marks, maybe next time I’ll try spelling my name” he hummed, placing one last kiss on the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core but not quite where you needed him. The teasing made you whine which in turn caused him to chuckle. “Since you were so good for me, I’ll give you a little reward, tell Sir what you want,” he cooed, tracing his fingers across your hip.

“I want you to touch me,” you begged without hesitation, “please Sir I’ll continue to be good just please touch me!” 

“I know you will,” San muttered, reaching a hand down and running a finger teasingly between your folds, “already so wet and I’ve barely even touched you. I don’t know if you’ll be able to handle much more.” You were about to argue that you could when he slid a finger into you, wasting no time before moving at a moderate pace. Within seconds he had found that special spot inside of you, making you cry out as he rubbed against it every time he inserted his finger. “So sensitive and so tight,” San mused, inserting another finger, “I am going to absolutely ruin you.” Your moans grew louder as his pace quickened, making a scissoring motion with his fingers and adding a third to thoroughly stretch you out. You started bucking your hips and grinding against his hand as you felt your orgasm approaching, desperate for release. San noticed this, chuckling to himself as he pressed his free hand on your lower stomach to keep you from moving. The action also made you feel the pressure of his fingers more and pushed you over the edge before you could find the words to warn him. 

Sans pace never faltered as you rode out your orgasm, pushing you into overstimulation before quickly removing himself from you entirely. You whined at the sudden loss of contact, bucking your hips into the air as you tried to catch your breath and come down from your high. 

“I’m disappointed I thought you said you would behave,” San said flatly as he wiped his fingers off on his shirt. You watched as he crawled away from you and off of the bed and for a moment you were worried that he was going to leave you like that. Broken apologies fell from your mouth combined with pleas for him not to stop as you tugged painfully at the chains holding you down. San relished in your begging before quickly silencing you with a wave of his hand, “Because this is our first time I will be nice just this once, but I don’t want to hear any complaints if I continue, got it?” “Yes Sir I promise,” you reply almost immediately. You hear San mutter something under his breath briefly before you suddenly feel the chains around your wrists disappear. 

“Can’t have you hurting yourself,” he explained, undoing his pants and kicking them off before climbing back on top of you, “besides, you’ll probably want to hold on for this.” You do as he suggested and wrap your arms around his neck as you feel his tip at your entrance. “Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered, placing one hand by your head to hold himself up as the other helped guide his length into you. It was hard not to let your eyes roll back as you felt him stretch you, feeling fuller than you ever did with your past partners. San groaned softly as he bottomed out, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he felt your walls squeeze around him. It took everything in his power not to just pin you down and rail you right then, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 

The second he felt you relax he started moving, gradually speeding up until he was thrusting into you at an inhuman speed. The arm that wasn’t supporting his weight moving to grab your hip and pull you against him with each thrust. By this point you had given up on keeping eye contact, wrapping your arms and legs around him as tightly as possible and burying your head in his shoulder to hide your sounds. San didn’t seem to care though, occupying himself with marking your neck as he continued his movements. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, so it didn’t take long for the second one to wash over you, making you scream against his shoulder as he continued. San slowed down his pace enough to help you ride it out before picking up again to chase his own release. 

“Sir please!” you whined, grabbing desperately at his shirt while your other hand moved to grab at his horn. San groaned loudly at the action, hips faltering for a moment. 

“You can handle one more,” he grunted, “just hold on for me.” It didn’t take long for him to reach his orgasm, groaning loudly and pulling you against him as he released inside of you. The feeling pushed you into your third orgasm as you went limp in his hold, almost feeling like you were going to pass out. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

As if a switch had flipped inside of San, you felt him gently pull out of you and help you lay back before carefully rolling off of you. Before you could whine about the loss of contact he had rolled onto his back and pulled you into his chest, pulling the covers over both of you to keep you warm. He would clean you up and help you get dressed once he knew you had fallen asleep. For right now though he knew you were probably sensitive and he wanted to give you time to come down from your headspace before he risked moving you and making you uncomfortable. One hand began gently playing with your hair while the other traced down your body, occasionally stopping to massage a particularly sore spot. You allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, feeling his warmth and scent which almost reminded you of fall. You had almost fallen asleep when you heard him speak again. 

“I didn’t mean to actually go that rough,” he confessed, “I never want to hurt you. There’s just something about you though that awakens something in me. I knew it from the moment I laid my eyes on you, I needed to have you and I can’t let you go.” You couldn’t really process what he was saying, let alone a response, so instead you hummed contently against his chest. San couldn’t help but smile down at you, hugging you a bit tighter to him. “I know you probably can’t understand me and I know you may not like me very much tomorrow but I hope you will enjoy it here. I mean it when you say you are mine. The person I will marry and bond myself to, and the one I will spend eternity protecting.” By this point he was just rambling as you had fallen asleep, but he continued with all of his promises as if you would be able to hear and understand him. 

San had waited centuries for the right soul to find him the one that would finally complete him without being destroyed or corrupted, something that could truly tie him to the mortal realm. Spending every October being dragged around by people who were hoping for an eternal favor. He always gave them what they wanted, but normally they weren’t able to handle the consequences. It had become a chore for him at this point, at least until he was called to you. He could feel the connection in you immediately, calling for him. He would give you the ultimate gift, eternal life and youth, and all you had to give him in return was your love and loyalty.

Ateez taglist: N/A

Please see my pinned post to be added to the taglist.

[sirenlulls]

satellite → r. keating (b. skeetz)

pairings — robert keating x fem!reader

summary — what bobby skeetz would be like as your annoying boyfriend <3

spinning out, waiting for you to pull me in. i can see you're lonely down there. don't you know that i am right here?

i feel like you'd be a long-term relationship (like teenage years long term)

ik they went to some fancy all boys school so let's say you went to an all girls school near theirs that would often go on trips together (pls tell me that wasn't just my school that did that)

either that of you'd meet through extra curriculars or overlapping friend groups

EITHER WAY met when ye were young (13-14) and got together when ye were 16-17

tbh most people thought you'd only last a few months bcs it was a teenage relationship after all but you're so chill with each other that it became very clear very quick that ye were just different

major "my girlfriend's my best friend" vibes

because of that, every inhaler fan knows you

you're no longer referred to by your name

you're just "mother" now

it's low-key a problem

like in any of your instagram posts or cute little tiktoks, at least half of the comments have a silly little inhaler pfp and are calling you mother

anyways

he's so annoying

definitely a very playful relationship

mocking eachother and all that

telling anyone else (outside your friendgroup) to fuck off if they do the same

he himself wouldn't be very public with the relationship

like you wouldn't be the face of every instagram post but you'd be in a story every few weeks and you'd pop up in the middle of a photo dump here and there

the inhaler_on_tik account however....

fans play where's wally with you in the tiktoks

usually hiding in a window reflection or the hem of your jacket poking into frame

enough to know you're there

you'd be best friends with all the fans

gigs are your opportunity to make new friends

they all adore you

so many fan tiktoks from gigs just have you dancing away with them

they'd bring you flowers <3

but yeah even if bobby himself doesn't post you a lot, fans would get pictures of you two together and they'd be so cute 😭

most of them are taken before gigs when he's helping you out of the bus or ye're walking into the venue together

but someone got a picture of you two once at some silly little market in spain and you were looking at flowers and he was looking at you

they posted it to tiktok and you asked them to send it to you

it was your lockscreen for a bit x

BIRD BINGO!!!

if you're ever traveling without him, you'd take pictures of any birds you pass and send them onto him

i really need to make sure it's known that he'd be annoying

like imagine you're just lying in bed, reading or on your phone, and he just bellyflops on top of you

no warning

no escape

you're trapped

i said the same in my eli headcanons but i don't really get spooning vibes from him

no matter what way you fall asleep, at least some part of him will be touching you

whether he's full on wrapped around you or just got an arm thrown over your torso

it helps him sleep better

you're best friends with the band ofc

i mean, you practically grew up together

you and rob never have a moment of peace with them on tour

you could be curled up in bed, and all of a sudden, elijah's busting down your door and lying down beside ye to tell you about a new song idea

you finally think you're free for a moment having a smoke by the back of the bus? nope, ryan's there now purely because he wanted to annoy ye

josh is nice on ye though (not really) (he makes fun of ye all the time) (he's my little pookie bear angel) (he can do no wrong)

they love having you around

and even if you leave the tour bus to get some snacks and come back to them trying on your dresses and robert doing josh's eyeliner you love having them around too

you're starting to get the mother thing

they do feel like you're hyperactive little children

bobby skeetz, the man that you are, you'd be a great boyfriend

[olderthannetfic]

ONTF, you're older than I am, you're highly media literate, maybe you'll know: what was the appeal of the Joss Whedon style of writing to begin with? Everyone whateverishly wording their phrasey bits in that very Whedon-y way never did anything for me, positive or negative, and the constant need to have comedy during serious moments or interrupt a serious moment with either snark or a remark that nods towards tropes diffuses the tension to the point where I can't get invested. None of his characters ever felt capable of having sincere moments like most characters in other things I watch, and the few moments of that they did have would get undermined by one of the aforementioned flaws.

I do think the "omg worst writer EVER!" crowd is a bit much, because I've seen things so bad that Whedon looks like Shakespeare by comparison. But my half-sister, who is 25 years older than me and thus in her late 40's, swears Joss' style is revolutionary and deep. And frankly I've been wrong about a lot of media I used to hate and I'm open to the idea I'm missing something. It's super likely given my limited media exposure, though I am admittedly trying to work on that and branch out into more genres of media and more formats so I don't become that 'guy who has only seen Boss Baby thinks every movie has Boss Baby vibes' meme.

So. What am I missing? What's the context I'm missing and the key here that will allow me to appreciate the appeal of and enduring fandom for Whedon's work? I am admittedly a fandom baby but I am willing to learn.

--

I mean... I despised him from the get go, other than the Buffy movie, which I still quote that death scene from regularly, so I'm probably not the best person to describe what's appealing about his style.

But one-liners during action are a common taste even if I'm fonder of the sorts of homoerotic 80s trash Ruthless Reviews used to cover.

Ironic distance is also popular and easier to swallow than earnestness for a lot of people.

However, I do think Buffy's original audience was connecting with it emotionally. Look at the part where Buffy's all upset after the most clownishly 1980s take on loss of virginity and heavyhanded metaphors for guys being jerks that just made every writer involved seem excessively middle-aged and out of touch Giles asks if she has any idea what could have happened to Angel. For people who weren't going to high school in 90s California, that bilge was apparently very moving. Certainly, there are parts of Buffy where the quips die down for some actual emotional moments.

People like style. Something that commits to being aggressively stylized will often stand out from the bland clones that surround it. Look at Wes Anderson (another creator I don't particularly like). Whedon's godawful faux-witty dialogue did sound different from other things on TV at the time. He also lets women say some of the one-liners, which is sorely missing from most media.

But mostly, he was formative for a lot of people, and I had to live through many, many years of them earnestly entreating me to give his shitty writing another chance because this time I would somehow connect with this sex-negative parasite and his casting aesthetic that I didn't find hot or interesting.

(I like dumb and campy things. I just like them to star a bunch of body builders from New Zealand, not waifs.)

People always hold up the things they imprinted on as more revolutionary and deep than they seem in retrospect. In Whedon's case, his already obnoxious style suffers from having been copied so much since, but even if he weren't famous or popular, if you were talking to that one person whose adolescence was defined by their love of him, they'd say all this same nonsense your sister does.

[maochira]

i just got a funny ass idea for a request

nagi who got bored one night and decided to summon an angel at like 3am but gave up half way through the ritual because it was too much work so he just ended up conjuring an angel-demon reader instead

Real canon actually happened

Requests open! - event list

Tags: gn!angel-demon!reader x Nagi, this is before Nagi became friends with Reo

First meeting

Although being with others is exhausting and a pain for him, Nagi can't help but grow to hate the feeling of loneliness. But due to him having zero social skills he already knows he can't just make friends in school. One night, he comes across a "How to summon an angel" tutorial on YouTube. He doesn't completely believe it'll work, but he decides to try it anyways. Although in the middle of it, he realizes how much work he has to do for it and just gives up. What he didn't know is how this results in summoning an angel-demon. Nagi doesn't even bother cleaning up the mess he caused, he just decides to go back to bed. But he's wide awake again the moment he sees you standing in the middle of his room. "You... summoned me...?" You ask, a little unsure of how to act around a human.

General headcanons

-most of your time is spent just sitting next to Nagi and watching him play video games. It's rare for you to have conversations, but you don't really mind that. The silent time spent together is kind of nice

-although, you also spend a lot of time trying to get Nagi out of his bed. You want him to at least clean his place every now and then. He only agrees if you promise to help him and take a nap together afterwards

-Nagi really likes your wings. From the front, they look like regular demon wings but on the back, they're full of soft feathers. Nagi really enjoys touching them because the contrast is interesting to him

-one time Nagi pulled on your tail to get your attention and you had to try really hard to not yell at him. It didn't hurt, but it still felt very uncomfortable

How you fell in love with each other

You got attached to Nagi very quickly, but it took a few more weeks for your feelings to turn into romantic love. Nagi fell for you a little faster, but he only recognized those feelings when you confessed your love to him.

Taglist (sign-up link): @zyuuuu @luvcalico @remy-roll @rienniey @kalinkavx @deerangle3 @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @blueberrryui @sagejin @https-archangel @ririgards @kaiserkisser @userwithlotsoftime @chaosinanutshell @mang05 @peachesncats @0rah-s @isagikisser @starchivves @arxliana 

[munsons-walkie]

Couple of Freaks

Eddie munson x fem!reader

Summary:

You never thought you would end up anywhere after high school. After your first year at college going down the drain, your mother kicks you out. You end up moving to Hawkins to live with your aunt and cousin. Quickly you learn the town isn’t what it seems, learning of the events that happened the past summer. Finding romance along the way was just an added bonus

flirting, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of eating disorders, drug/alcohol mentions and use, mentions of suicidal thoughts, fix it fic, takes place beginning of the school year for season 4, swearing, classic case of nerds nerding out

AO3

Chapter 1

Your leg had been bouncing the moment your plane took off. Anxiety had been running through your veins ever since you got off the phone with your Aunt Claudia two days ago. Picking your life up and leaving absolutely everything you knew in your small hometown to move to middle America in the even smaller town of Hawkins wasn’t exactly on your bucket list.

Your Angel of an aunt is letting you stay with her to help you get up on your feet after your failed attempt at college life and getting kicked out of your mother’s house.

You threw your future away! You threw our future away!

Your mother’s voice kept ringing in the back of your mind after you had told her you couldn’t take it anymore. The sting of her words hurt, but the sting of her hand hurt more. Your fingers found your cheek to run the phantom bruise that has since faded.

You closed your eyes and put headphones on to help ease your mind. Your plane ride is only about an hour and a half but the past 10 minutes felt like an eternity. You turned your head to the window as Stevie Nicks’ voice carried my thoughts through the clouds you passed.

*********

Getting off the plane seemed so much easier than getting on. This is it, you thought to yourself, I’m finally free .

You took a deep breath as you walked down the terminal to get your bags. Headphones around your neck as you took in the sounds of the airport.

 “Over here, honey!” You hear Aunt Claudia’s warm voice rise above the crowd. You turn your head and see her waving one hand, the other holding a sign saying “Welcome home!” written in big bubble letters, with your little, well not so little, cousin Dustin holding the other side and waving his free hand as excitedly as his mother.

You could feel your cheeks heating up slightly at the attention it drew from people passing nearby, but the embarrassment passed when you saw their smiling faces and couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face and waved right back at them. Dustin came running over right away to help with your bags. It had been about 3 years since the last time you saw him, he had grown so much since and it made your heart warm to see him with his braces, knowing how upset he was for feeling different. You gave him the biggest bear hug, surprising yourself with how you didn’t have to bend over, him finally being the same height.

 “Hey, bud,” You said as he pulled away.

 He calls your name excitedly, “I’m so excited you have no idea, I can’t wait for you to see everyone and to meet the Hellfire club and-“

“Dusty, how about we let her relax first before we show her anything.” Claudia chuckled as she interrupted what you can only assume would’ve been a very long list of things to do.

 Your aunt engulfed you in the warmest hug you had in what felt like years. Your body let out a deep sigh as she rubbed your back, not saying anything for a solid 30 seconds before pulling away. She gave you a knowing smile as she looped her arm in yours.

 “We do have to get home now hun, I did make dinner to celebrate!”

***********

When you pulled up to the house, a station wagon was parked on the street. You weren’t even fully parked when 3 people walked out of the garage, your mind trying to wrap around the height of these boys. You’ve been close with Dustin and Aunt Claudia for years, visiting every few summers up until the summer before sophomore year of high school, so you recognized the faces.

 Mike, looking much taller and leaner than you had remembered, still picturing him at 10 just wanting to show you the toad he and Dustin found that day. Lucas not only looked tall but looked like he started to work out, much different than the little kid who would make fun of Mike crying when he fell down from his bike. You remember there being a third friend, Will but he didn’t seem to be there. You mentally marked that as an “Ask Dustin later” tab and filed it away. Friendships are always changing when you’re still young, especially starting high school.

 You saw Nancy, Mike’s older sister, walk over to Claudia to give her a hug. You two would always spend time together whenever you would visit, helping you both escape the boys when they got too much to handle. She came over and gave a big welcome hug.

 “It’s going to be so nice having you back around with these guys, you have no idea how it’s been dealing with teenage boys.” She lets out a small laugh as she lets you go.

 “It’s so good to see you guys! You all have no idea how much I’ve missed you all.” You walk over to the boys and give them a group hug. Surprised again at the fact that your head was now at their shoulders.

 “Uh, boys could you help with these please?” Claudia asked as she opened the trunk, each boy jogging right over with no questions asked.

 “The room down the hall, this way!” Dustin called leading them into the home. Nancy and you shared a glance and couldn’t help the laugh that broke from you. You followed them inside, remembering that you don’t want any teen boys going through your bags.

******

After the welcome they gave you, you couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and wash the last of the east coast off. Everyone helped put your books and cassettes on the shelves of the bookcase Claudia placed in her guest room- your room- for you. After a couple of hours, the group left to let me get settled. You pulled out your favorite coconut shampoo and conditioner from one of the bags followed by a vanilla-scented soap. As you was about to head over to the shower, Claudia knocked on the open door frame.

 “I know you’re still processing everything dear, but I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk I am always here.” Your aunt looked at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes. She was always the type of mom to never understand why others would treat their own children like options, being such an amazing mother to Dustin. Your mind drew the similarities between her and your dad, her brother.

 You fixed a smile on my face, trying to help her to not worry more than she already has, “Don’t worry Claudia, I know.”

 She stood for a few seconds before nodding at you, “there are towels in the closet right next to the bathroom, let me know if you need anything else.” She smiled as she walked away.

You quickly got yourself situated before hopping in the shower. You turned the cold faucet to the hottest setting, then turned back a bit remembering you don’t need to burn the feelings away like you used to anymore.

 Now I’m safe, I'm safe, you reminded myself twice before turning to look in the mirror.

 It was already fogging up but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the circles under your eyes, the skin almost looking purple. Your eyes looked flat, very dull in combination with my tired face and hair was pulled tight into a ponytail. You stared at yourself until only your silhouette in the fog can be seen. Undressing quickly, you took your hair down, the ends just hitting the middle of your back. As soon as the water touched your skin you let out a sigh, the feeling even reaching deep enough to feel it in your bones. You threw your head back and let everything settle.

*********

 Your cousin called your name as he came down the hallway, “Please pick me up today! It’s getting so cold outside and Steve drives like a grandma!” Dustin whined behind you as you ate cereal at the table.

 It’s been a week since moving in. You were able to find a car for pretty cheap across town, having more than enough money saved up from odd jobs back home while you were still in college. That didn’t stop Aunt Claudia from offering a million times to pay for it, though.

 “Dustin it’s the middle of October of course it’s cold out,” you munched on honeycombs slowly drawing out the anticipation, “so, of course, I’ll pick you up.” Turning to smile at him.

 “One of these days I do need to meet this Steve guy, he sounds like your second mom.” You chuckled as you finished the bowl and walked it over to the sink.

 “God he's going to hate hearing that when I tell him. And I have Hellfire today so you can get me around 5 pm! Thanks!” Dustin, always on the move, spoke as he finished grabbing his things for school and waved goodbye.

 You watched him out the window as he hopped into Nancy Wheeler’s car, she gave a honk, you waved as you watched them drive away. Taking a deep breath, you go back to your room.

 Sprawled on your desk were different flyers for available jobs in the area. Two piqued any interest, the Family Video, and the local diner. Both are good places to really get to familiarize yourself with the people in town.

******

“I’m sorry dear, that position has been filled as of Monday.” The waitress at the diner told me as she finished cleaning off her table. 

Since Monday? I only saw the ad out yesterday on Tuesday? You thanked her for her time anyway and marched back to the car.

 Glancing at your watch and noticed it was almost 2 pm. Still too early to get Dustin . 

As if it was summoned, your stomach rumbled, reminding you that you’ve only had some cereal this morning. Deciding you were embarrassed enough by getting turned down for a job at the diner, you backed out of the parking lot and drove around town.

 You quickly found a slightly crowded McDonald’s. There was a giant black van parked over the lines with a few guys standing around it, their music blasting with the side of the van open. You parked two spots down from them, not wanting to get noticed by anyone. Quickly grabbing your purse, you get out of the car and head towards the glass doors. As you reached the door, however, it swung out, nearly missing your nose.

 “And I’m telling you that I have an awesome campaign idea! It’s going to-“ a guy in black jeans, a leather jacket, and the same shirt Dustin was wearing this morning bumped right into you. “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry!” You sputtered out taking a giant step to the side, feeling nervous about such an attractive guy seeing you be a spaz.

 “No, sorry. I uh…clearly wasn’t paying attention. The door m’lady.” He held the door open and did a small awkward bow at the waist. His long hair flipping over as he did so. You let out a small laugh and offered a quick thanks before heading in and ordering.

 Is Dustin friends with someone like that? You glance out the window, waiting for your burger and fries to come out while sipping on some sprite. They were still out there, all of them chowing down and talking animatedly. They remind me of some of the guys I was friends with back in New York, you think as your eyes stay on them. You were a little surprised to see anyone like that, especially the long-haired one, in a small town like Hawkins. 

Watching him closely as you waited, you noticed he moved around so much as he talked, the eyes of his friends never leaving his performance. You shook your head away as he turned around and almost saw you being a creep.

 After you grab your food and head back to the car, there’s a small chill in the air but the sun is still strong enough to sit outside. You jumped onto the trunk of the car and dove into your fries. The music from the van, you could hear it perfectly as Judas Priest, got turned down just a bit and your could sense a stare or two. You tried to ignore it, knowing full well that everyone in town knows each other and you’re the new shiny object.

 You took a bite of your burger and moaned a bit. God, has it really been that long since I’ve had this? You wonder to yourself as you savor the taste. Your mind going back to the east coast and your controlling mother. She never wanted to be embarrassed by her family so she made you and your dad do everything perfectly, eat perfectly, work perfectly, and even tried to get you to join ballet to be her perfect little dancer. Thankfully you were deemed too old at the time to start dancing with anyone in your age group. 

Your memories bring you back to when you were a freshman in high school, your dad snuck you out one night and went to the closest McDonald’s and pigged out. Don’t tell your mom, she’ll kill me. You smile as you remember you and your dad sharing a laugh. 

 “Eddie c’mon! I can’t have Mrs. Allen give me detention for the third day in a row dude!” One of the guys called out as the long-haired one threw his food away.

 “Gareth, honestly, you need to take it down a notch or two. We still have a good 15 minutes to get back.” The long-haired one- Eddie - snickered as he threw open the van’s driver-side door. You turned your head to the sound of the door slamming and was met by big brown eyes staring back.

 “Play something besides Judas Priest next time!” You call over to him, taking another bite of your burger. His eyes went wide for a moment, his face slightly dumbstruck.

 He quickly fixed himself and called back, “Anything for you, sweetheart!” He winked as he pulled away. You rolled your eyes and kept eating, a soft smile on your lips

 With the van gone the parking lot was too quiet, you quickly finished your food and decided to go over to the Family Video to see if they were hiring.

*****

“Yeah! Hell yeah! I-I mean sure, definitely.” The guy behind the counter tried leaning on the surface and missed, quickly shooting right back up nice and straight.

 “Really? That’s great!” You smiled back at him. Finally, a job to keep yourself busy again, you enjoyed the week of getting used to your new life but your mind would often drift back to what you left.

 A girl walked out from around a stand, and she rolled her eyes at the guy. She walked right up and leaned against the counter, “Can you start Monday? We open at 11, that is if bozo over here isn’t late from his dates the night before.” She made it a point to bite the words at him, a teasing smile on her face.

 “Oh, c’mon that was one-“

 “three times dingus!” He stopped as he was doing the math in his head.

 You enjoyed their banter going back and forth, honestly seeing yourself in between them trying to soothe the situation, “Monday works perfectly!”

 “Great! Well anyway, I’m Robin and this thing here is Steve.” She introduced herself and Steve with a flick of her wrist.

 “Dustin’s Steve?” Your mouth spoke faster than you could stop yourself.

 “Oh my god this is great, even new people in town know your best friend is a freshman!” Robin laughed as Steve shot her a glare.

 “Oh no I didn’t mean-I’m his cousin.” You tried explaining, feeling yourself fail slightly. Then a lightbulb went off over Steve’s head.

 “You’re Henderson’s cousin? You are…wow you are not how I pictured,” you crossed your arms in his direction and cocking your head, “oh god no! I didn’t mean in a bad way I guess I just-I….I just pictured Dustin but like, as a girl.” Both you and Robin shared glances at each other, dumbfounded and bursting out laughing.

 “Yeah ok, laugh it up. We’ll see you Monday.” He called as he walked away towards a customer by the back wall.

 “I’m so happy to have someone else here with me to deal with that, I’ll see you Monday!” Robin patted your shoulder as she went to ring someone up, you waved at them both with a laugh still stuck in my throat. Glancing down at your watch, 4:45. With a close of the car door, you drove over to the high school.

 ******

  That same black van was parked in the lot, you noticed as you parked nice and close to the doors on the side of the building like Dustin said to. There weren’t many cars in the lot, maybe a few teachers and little clusters of cars grouped together by friends in clubs. There were still a few minutes to spare, so you put your dad’s favorite Led Zeppelin cassette in the radio and it picked up in the middle of the last song that was playing, “Black Dog.” A nice hum through the speakers.

 You hopped out of the car and sat on the hood, taking in the sight of the school. Memories of the past hit the front of your head.

  2 years ago

  Your mom had made you walk home again, she found a candy bar wrapper in your room during her weekly inspection and freaked out. 

  “ I will not have a fat daughter! You are grounded for the week, no friends, no phone, and no dinner.” She threw your door closed and locked it from the outside. 

 You felt like such a prisoner in your own home, your only comfort in the room being a small corner in the closet that your mom always overlooked. Dad’s favorite band shirt was nicely tucked away there, and all of the cassettes the two of you bought together. You were sick of being treated like this, being a senior in high school and still having a bedroom stuck at 10 years old. 

 You went to my closet and dug out his shirt, his smell was still there after the two years he’s been gone. Your mom got bad after he left, promising you he would find somewhere for the two of you. Your mom got worse after he died on his way to pick you up. 

 “I’ll be there in two hours kiddo! Just you and me, away from this mess!” He called from a truck stop. You had your bags together and were practically jumping around the room. Two hours came and went. Then suddenly another hour passed and another. 8 hours passed and you got the knock on our door. Police officers told you and your mom how he was killed in an accident not even 45 minutes away from there. 

That  was the first night I tried to take my own life. He promised a better life and he just….left.

 You heard Dustin call your name, then heard the slam of heavy doors behind him. A giant smile across his face as he raced right over. Hopping down, you put your arm around his shoulders. Behind him were Lucas and Mike and…the guy from McDonald’s.

 “Hey again.” He nodded towards you.

 “Oh hey.” You spat out.

Oh my god, you mentally slapped yourself, stop being a spazz!

 Dustin quickly looked between the two of you, confusion was written across his face.

 “I ran into him at McDonald’s,” you explained before he even asks.

 “Oh ok, well this is Eddie, and Eddie this is-“ 

“Are you listening to Led Zeppelin right now?” Eddie jumped over to the open window, his head moving in time with the music.

 “Oh yeah, you like them?” You let go of Dustin and turned toward the long-haired metalhead.

 “Oh great here we go,” Mike whispered to the boys.

 “Are you fuc-do I like-yes!” He stuttered and spun towards you, his eyes lighting up, “that’s so badass Henderson, you didn’t tell me your cousin liked good music!” Eddie wrapped Dustin in a headlock.

“Ow Ow! I didn't know! Oww!" The two roughhoused a bit longer before Eddie let go of Dustin and gave him a pat on the shoulder, both of them laughing.

 "Alright Dust, we should get going. Mike, Lucas do you two have a ride?" You looked toward them as they shook their heads no. Meaning they were going to definitely ask you for a ride. With a sigh and an eye roll, "Get in the car losers. Eddie, it was nice seeing you again." You smiled at him as you started making your way to the driver's side.

 "Yeah-uh...Hey maybe we could-you could I don't know, maybe come to a Hellfire meeting next week?" Eddie's hand scratched the back of his head as he walked backward in front of you.

 "Well...I start a new job on Monday," you start and chew your lip for a moment thinking, "so I don't really know my schedule yet. Rain check?" You opened the door as he nodded.

“Yeah cool, rain check! Alright then, gentlemen I will see you same time and place tomorrow." He saluted them and turned to wink at you before sauntering back to his van.

 You pulled out of the parking lot with the boys and start heading to Mike and Lucas's street, with Dustin navigating....badly.

 "I don't think I've ever seen Eddie get that nervous before." Lucas commented as you were yelling at Dustin about how "the tree with the birdhouse," wasn't the best description to go off of when driving in a town you’re not familiar with.

 "I don't think he's ever invited a girl to Hellfire either." Mike also pointed out.

 "He probably invited me because he knows how much of a nerd my cousin is." You pinch Dustin as he called a "hey!"

 "Where did you get a job? You told Eddie you start Monday." Dustin asked as he rubbed his arm where he might be getting a bruise now.

 "With your second mom at Family Video," you slyly comment, parking in front of Mike Wheeler's house, earning a laugh from the boys

[cloveroctobers]

SPEND IT / holiday edition?

A/N: haven’t done one of these pieces in awhile and I should at least do one once a year? Maybe. Idk. My ask box is still on hiatus but I felt inspired to write for this time around—also I’m sick with a sinus infection and needed a break from binge-watching shows lol. Also based on the we’re not really strangers couple or relationship edition questions? + stream coco jones 🫶🏽 + NOW EDITED and I hope you enjoy this!

OJ HAYWOOD

Black Friday’s didn’t include much planning unless you dragged OJ out from the ranch to do so. He was always up at the crack of ass anyways…so you didn’t see what the issue was when it came to being in stores to catch a deal. Nonetheless it still irritated him, that man hated being around people too long and obviously preferred hanging with his horses.

However he’d tolerate it for a hour or two just to be with you.

You’ve been together for three years—long distance but been the best of friends since middle school. A lot had changed since you came back from Alaska, learning about this new found species? that took over Agua Dulce had your mind spinning, especially as a biologist.

You missed out on all of it and couldn’t be there during the lost of Otis Sr. due to the snow storms in Alaska, lack of flights and by the time you got back home…you were there for the aftermath. Which meant getting all the details and wondering if the lab you worked for had any further information. Of course they did. Most importantly, you wanted to be there for OJ but he seemed to brush it off, as if it was just another obstacle on the Haywood ranch.

He knew he could be vulnerable with you but it’s not something he wanted to do. It’s not something OJ simply did. You couldn’t recall a time OJ ever got emotional—even when his mother passed back as a child and to learn that it didn’t change as a adult was interesting.

What did change was the amount of eyes OJ had on him now. It was Emerald’s idea to have the four of you participate in this questionnaire that would be filmed, you know like those ones you see on YouTube? Emerald and Angel would be paired while you and OJ would be together. At first everyone assumed it was some interview to get further information on Jean Jacket but Emerald convinced you all that it wasn’t. It would be like gathering around for another round of “Friendsgiving,” she threw yesterday.

Except you would all get a check at the end of the session.

“As if you need more money,” OJ muttered on the drive to the studio.

Em smacked her lips, “why wouldn’t I? No, why wouldn’t all of us? We have to catch the bag especially with the way inflation is treating us. You’re welcome, negro!” She slapped the back of his headrest while OJ just hummed.

You were only participating because you knew OJ wouldn’t do it otherwise. You even took off work to be here and to be honest, it didn’t hurt to have extra money in your pocket for the upcoming holidays. However you got what OJ was hinting at since those pictures and interviews not long after the Jean jacket incident went viral. And Emerald Haywood was all about the business; if she was eating good, so was the rest of her people, period.

Which brought you to this very moment. You could tell OJ was ready to go home after the first round of questions. He didn’t understand why it had to take over a half hour to get the both of you ready and set up. Plus those bright lights were so hot that OJ had to toss his hat onto the table fifteen minutes into shooting.

It was your turn to start the first question to the second round, “What type of social situations make you feel the most awkward?” You read off the card, watching as OJ lolled his head around to look at you.

His large round eyes gave you a look as he sat up straight in the chair now. He drummed his fingers against the table pretending to think about it, “Situations exactly like this one.”

“You guys walked right into that.” You laughed, glancing at the camera and then a few of the camera crew.

A woman added, “Can you please elaborate?”

OJ sighed pressing his elbows into the table, “I don’t care to be in social situations like that. If you haven’t noticed I’m not a big talker and this is probably the most y’all got me to talk today. I can go a whole day without saying much and be fine with it. Put me in a bar and people start conversations with me there, awkward. I used to go to bars with my late father and he had no issue chatting with anyone there. Me? I’m ready to go after one drink. Send me to the store? I don’t browse, I go there for a reason, get what I need to and I’m going back home. I don’t need all eyes on me given what I’ve just been through and ‘specially right now. It’s uncomfortable and the only reason I didn’t get up after level one and leave is because of my honey that’s sitting right across from me.”

The room went silent as OJ voiced exactly what he was feeling. Those that didn’t know him would feel like this was a outburst but you knew better as his frame visibly relaxed after he said his peace. His eyes went back to yours as you placed the card to the pile and reached out for one of his hands. OJ’s ebony calloused but warm hand gave yours a nice squeeze as you dipped your head at him.

“You okay to continue baby? Or you wanna scram? I’m sure they have enough content from us to edit.” You asked while OJ gave out a brief turn of his lips.

OJ thanked you with his eyes, “Mm. I’ll ask a question to you before we do. Cool with you?”

“Sure.”

He tilted his head with a nod before holding a card up to his eyes to read, not caring what the crew thought at this point, “what would you change about the world?”

Taking a deep inhale, your mind scrambled with multiple options. The mistreatment of the environment would be the most simplest answer.

OJ always loved watching you as your brain tried to process everything you were thinking. It was almost as if he could see the light bulbs in your eyes as they scanned for a answer from your brilliant brain.

A smile erupted on your own lips as you said, “I’d change everything it’s done to you.”

OJ immediately pulled the back of your hand up to his lips. He didn’t need you to further explain like he knew the film crew was expecting, your words attached to the genuine light in your eyes was all he needed to make his heart swell. He’d wouldn’t tell you that but he showed you with a kiss to your skin.

JESSIE “JR” RAYMOND

What started out as a light hearted segment during what this production called, “round one,” quickly shifted as you sat across your boyfriend of a few months.

You didn’t want to hear anyone call you a bad sport (since you weren’t keen on this whole idea in the first place) so you showed up. It also put you at ease because you would be doing these questions with JR which you had no knowledge of thanks to Nate. You assumed it would be you versus which ever friend production pulled out a hat or whatever Nate told them.

It was Friendsgiving after all but you weren’t complaining! You considered JR your friend who you easily fell in love with but always fell back because it wasn’t the right timing. You only just got around to being friends your senior year of high school and you never thought you’d be friends with a whole ass jock. It wasn’t really your scene not after you’ve seen plenty do your friends dirty…yes that means you were bias but JR so happened to be different.

Which meant he had shameless girls falling over and after him. You vowed not to be one of them despite your own mother, aunties, and your own “Christian,” grandmother telling you to get JR on lock as soon as you could. Like? Why couldn’t you just be friends? He had such a good heart, you knew that but it took you going to college together the first two years to want that heart full-time.

JR cleared his throat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours underneath his eyelashes. You knew from the expression on his face that this was serious or it could be him putting on a dramatic effect. However usually a smile broke as he got the question out but that face did not change as he held the card.

“Will I find your ex on your instagram/facebook feed? Why or why not?” JR flicked the card onto the table as you laughed a little.

“What’s funny?”

“I’m only on Instagram and Twitter. I deleted my Facebook after some country ass great-uncles got creepy and their girlfriends got mouthy like we’re not related so…no.” You started while JR carefully took in your words.

You reached out to run a hand up JR’s clothed sleeve as you kept smiling, “y’all got my man stressed over this and for what? I don’t nearly have as many exes as Jessie…”

“Don’t deflect, baby. Stay on track, please.” JR encouraged while you rolled your eyes.

“For Twitter no. I don’t know if they follow me or not and I don’t want to take the time to find out,” you continued, “I know for sure I don’t follow them. I had one or two request on Instagram but i didn’t feel like it was necessary to allow that. Even before JR and I decided to be official. Those relationships didn’t end bad or anything like that but that’s the past and I don’t need to know what’s they’re doing in their daily lives. I wish them well though but I’m focused on my life and what I have going on.”

“Well alright,” JR was all grins then while you shook your head at him in disbelief.

Then the film crew had to stir the pot, “what about you JR? Would they find any of your exes on your feed?”

JR stopped smiling then which made you quirk up a brow before you glanced at your gel-x nails.

“Uh—it’s kinda similar to my baby’s Twitter but with Instagram. My page isn’t on private though and anyone can follow me and I do have more relationships than them. So yeah I have exes from high school that still follow me and I follow them. I haven’t unfollowed them because I’m now in a relationship.” JR was honest with his answer.

You now toyed with JR’s initial necklace that was now on your neck as he said this.

“Does this bother you?” One of the film crew asked.

Lifting your shoulders you replied, “this wasn’t my question for JR but…not really? I’m secure in our relationship, although it’s fresh but we’ve been friends for a couple of years now and I have faith in us. I feel like I know him well enough to not think negatively about what he maybe thinking about his past encounters. That’s a closed chapter. I’m the new one. Therefore, I’m not going to demand what he does on his account. Simple.”

“We solid.” JR confirmed, holding his hand out for dap.

You did your signature handshake, “real bad but we’re not gonna ignore the double standard here. That’s a private conversation for another day.”

JR dipped his head, now looking at you a bit sheepishly, “Agreed.”

Plucking up a card you read off your question to your boyfriend, “What could you have done better in your previous relationship(s)?”

Huffing to yourself you placed it down. You wondered if these questions were instigating anything between your friends too because it definitely seemed like they were trying to start something between you two. However the both of you knew how to handle yourselves quite well.

“Communication,” JR told with furrowed brows as he said this, “most definitely. I had that issue all throughout high school when it came to disagreements and was ready to call it quits with a swiftness. The childishness was so bad at fourteen.” He laughed to himself before saying, “I even struggled with that in my last relationship freshman year in college.”

You knew of this situation and empathized with it. It was not your relationship to pass judgment on but you were there when JR broke it off and seen how hurt he had been. It pained him even further when he learned the truth and how he felt like he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend. Ultimately to know what his ex had truly been through and how she would live with that for the rest of her life, bothered him.

He shut her out because of his assumption and lack of communication.

“How’s the communication going between you two?”

JR lifted his brows, searching your eyes for this answer. He didn’t want to say something when you may not feel the same.

Keeping your eyes on JR’s you spoke, “we take the time to. I actually think Jessie’s great at it, he really listens to understand and not listen to speak since you know how there’s people like that? Not my man.” You winked making JR slowly beam at you, “He also knows how to ask open ended questions when we really need to discuss something.”

“Yes, I learned a little something something in my behavioral course.” JR smiled, “they’re a different communicator though. It’s lots of non-verbal cues I have to pick up on to get a sense if talking is what is needed at the time. We kinda just know what works after being around each other for a bit.”

You mirror his smile.

“So it’s all peaches and cream?”

JR glanced at the crew, sensing what you were feeling as the conversation shifted this round. He wasn’t sure if it was to get content or was the purpose truly trying to get the both of you to get closer. To connect. However that phrase felt…shady as you would say. Y’all were being open with complete strangers so why was it feeling like no one in the room was rooting for you when they didn’t know you?

“Yeah,” JR refrained from turning his eyes into slits at the main person that was prying, “and if it isn’t? We’ll do our damn best to figure it out because that’s what a team does.”

He turned back to you, watching as you got up to sit down in his lap, arms slipping around his neck. You two shared a slow peck solidifying that as his hands rested on your waist.

“Team work makes the dream work.” You stated staring into his eyes briefly, before looking back at the crew as JR placed a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes ma’am, you’re my dream.”

You face JR again, knowing he meant that as you caressed his brows; staring down at his lips knowing he was awaiting another kiss.

“We’re being corny.” You mumbled, knowing you were still attached to a mic but it didn’t matter.

JR lightly gripped your jaw as he shrugged, “I know but we still cute though.”

Which earned him a laugh and another kiss.

LANDO JOHNSON

“What did the people who raised you teach you about love?”

Lando let out a low whistle as you read the question. You chuckled to yourself reaching for the glass of water to cater to your growing sore throat. Just imagine being sick around turkey day? What the hell were you supposed to enjoy without your throat hurting? Cranberry sauce?

“Oh, we getting deep huh sweetheart.” Lando rubbed his hands together, before glancing upwards at the lights in thought.

“Times two.” You held up a peace sign, making Lando laugh as he watched you.

Lando fell silent, pressing his elbows into his upper thighs as he thought about his parents marriage. “I’m a military brat, my father is a marine and plans on retiring as soon as I graduate and go pro. So we’re all supposed to accept change but my mother? She wasn’t like that. She hated change and was your typical Georgia peach. Georgia is all she’s ever known so when she met my dad she wasn’t willing to go over all the place, she liked traveling but not if that meant she had to spend it alone. Once she got pregnant with me that stopped, she had seen enough and my mom was always set in her ways.”

Placing your hand on top of Lando’s for comfort you listened to what you already knew.

“My parents are complete opposites. My dad can be tough, disciplined, active, and prideful. My mother was a artist, one of her paintings is actually in the library at our university. She was quiet but stubborn, kind-hearted, and goofy at times…” Lando described the two that raised him, “They taught me that love is patient and love is not a need or a want.”

You felt like Willow at the red table talk as you listened to your boyfriend tell you this. Whenever you had conversations like these, lando can have you thinking about a lot and you admired that. He had a way with words and knew how to challenge you by looking at things from all perspectives.

In the end, not all things are one sided.

“How so?” You commented as his eyes found yours.

Lando used his free hand to caress his chin as he explained, “my dad would be off on duty in other countries while we stayed here in Georgia. To anyone on the outside it appeared as if that was what worked for them but I knew there were times that they both grew tired of this. Yet they were patient with each other, learned that together. However they taught me the difference between need and want. Need can be based around fear, and a lot of people feel like they can’t live without someone so they need them. Fear is the opposite of love, you shouldn’t be fearful in a relationship. Wanting gives them the freedom to leave but you still love them. When my mother got diagnosed…my dad and I both learned more about the need and want aspect.”

“Wow,” you breathed feeling like the two of you were the only ones in the room—which was often.

“My parents could live without each other and love with distance. I think that was the universe preparing them for my mother’s future departure. It all makes sense to me. To some it won’t but I know love can take work and isn’t always what you expect.” Lando finalized.

“Shout-out to Mr. And Mrs. Johnson.” You clapped it up for the pair while Lando just shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

Lando reached for his own card to read to you, “they’re pretty cool but I’m cooler right sweetheart?” He winked before he awaited your answer.

“You aight.” You teased while Lando shook his head and looked directly into the camera.

“We don’t rock with liars.”

“Oh, shut up.” You lightly kicked his foot underneath the table.

Lando inhaled trying to get comfortable in this ugly bamboo chair, “okay, croaky. I mean love—this is your question.”

Balling up your fist at the man you laughed, almost going into a coughing fit before he slid your water closer to you. Raising the glass you mouthed at the camera, ‘it’s not COVID.’

“So…how’s your heart today? Really?”

It was almost as if Lando had this question memorized with the way it said it with such ease. He didn’t even have to break eye-contact to ask this and seemed pretty intuitive to your response. Lando didn’t mind having chats like this and thrived on discussions, if he had something to say you were gonna hear it no matter what tone.

From the moment he started going to therapy after enduring panic attacks, he was pretty open about talking things out. He had his mother to thank for that, she didn’t allow him to bottle things up whereas his father preferred to get his frustrations out at the gun range instead. Which Lando knew wasn’t the healthiest since the military had this agenda that you had to be this stone cold person…he just accepted that was something his father wouldn’t change.

Don’t get the man wrong, his father knew when it was time to ask for help; once Lando started having panic attacks but that didn’t mean he didn’t let his pride lead the way in the beginning. And the man tried as Lando got older because Mr. Johnson also found that he needed someone to talk to too and what better person to do that than with their own son?

So yes Orlando Johnson did not mind having these conversations with someone he was spending time with.

He watched you intently, like he always did when you spoke. Just as much as your eyes shined watching him talk, his own heart felt fluttery? Whenever he looked at you.

“…somedays it’s like woooo I’m at the top of the world or a rollercoaster and then sometimes its like the drop from a rollercoaster then I’m feeling like a ogre crawling out some quicksand you know?” Your eyes were wide as you rambled, which made Lando chuckle as he zoned back in on your reply, “that’s that seasonal depression hitting but as for today? I’m a nice…I don’t know 6.5/10.”

“I receive that,” Landon said, “what can I do if anything to help make it better?”

“You’re already doing it, handsome.” You held out your glass to clink against Lando’s.

DAMON SIMS

There you two were sitting across from each other in the room with bright lights and cold air.

Damon was leaning towards you, elbows pressed into the table, while you leaned into your fist as if you were in some deep studying session and Damon was on the field ready for whatever.

“Damon, What question are you trying to answer in your life right now?”

Damon lifted his hands as he chewed on the back of his lip and then said, “how to continue moving forward in a lot of my relationships right now and what the rest of the year is gonna look like?”

You nodded your head, not shocked about this answer but felt a little worried. Did those relationships also include you? You knew most of that answer was based on Damon’s relationship with his father, although you knew he was ready to move on with his biological mom and proceeded to give the same treatment he felt his biological dad gave him when he gave him up, you knew damon still wanted answers.

“I got a lot going on although the gorgeous smile may have a lot of y’all fooled,” Damon peeked at the camera flashing a grin that you lightly shook your head at, the man couldn’t help but to let that ego out every now and then, “but I’m still human. I got shit to figure out and I know I don’t have to have it all planned but I need further direction by the end of this year. I already got my New Year’s resolution planned.”

“Will we be experiencing a New Year’s Eve kiss in the city?” You quizzed.

Damon scratched at his nose, “in cold ass New York? I might see something like a rat on skates when we’re in the moment so I dunno about all that doll.”

“See how I’m disrespected?” You tossed the card at Damon who laughed, “like I don’t cater to my man. Like I don’t have many ways to keep him warm. Damon thinks I’m gonna pull a shitty move like rose did Leo DiCaprio when I told him I’m not her.”

Damon pushed out his lips but didn’t miss a heartbeat, “let me tell y’all what she did. She made dinner for us the other night and while we were eating, her mom calls her on FaceTime right? She tells her mom that she made us Mac and cheese, asked me how I liked it and I said it was cool. Before I could even say anything further she tells her mom there’s cream cheese and onions in it. Her mom has her own successful catering business. Her mom starts to go off on her but she proceeds to tell momma that I made it and it wasn’t her! Guess who got cussed out that night? Now y’all tell me if you think she wouldn’t do me like rose?”

“Is this true?” The camera crew asked you.

Looking away over your shoulder, you curled a strand of hair behind your ear mumbling, “I’m sorry mom.”

“I need a apology too. I got the brunt of it.” Damon tried to catch your eye but you just fanned him off, “we not about to make it to New York with this stank-ness.”

“Whatever, you love me.”

“Sometimes, bro.”

You battled your eyelashes while Damon just let out a low sigh.

“When was the last time someone made you feel special on your birthday?”

“Birthdays that I remember?” You questioned.

“…we not twenty-one yet.” Damon whispered, while you mockingly covered your mouth.

“They don’t know if I got what Harriet Tubman had.”

“What?” Damon laughed, “I can’t deal with you.”

“Alright, alright,” you sighed, “I’m a winter baby but i love the summer and celebrate half birthdays yet I can’t remember nobody’s else’s—don’t quote me on that. I’d have to say I felt the most special when I celebrated my last birthday with my friends back home since we only had months left together. They wrote me letters and it all played out as a monologue at the movie theater. I thought we were going to see the new scream but nope, it was our lives played out on the big screen.”

“Dope ass friends.” Damon commented, “can’t wait to hang with them in New York in January.”

Smiling you gripped Damon’s arm to snatch the card out of his hand up to your lips while leaning on the table. “IN NEW YOOoOoOORK!”

“Here she go,” Damon pinched his brows laughing as he turned to the camera cutting his fingers against his neck, “y’all might want to stop filming, this’ll take about ten minutes since she’ll try to transition to any other song that says New York or is by a New York artist.”

Keeping the card to your mouth you gripped the sleeve of Damon’s cardigan, “these lights will expire you—

“Inspire.” He attempted to correct you.

“In New yooooooork. New York. New yooooork!” You ignored him before tapping him, “it’s your turn to rap Jay’s part.”

“No.”

“Forget you then,” you sucked your teeth before licking your lips and attempting to pull some fuckboy light skin cringe mess, “Say what up to Ty-Ty, still sippin' Mai Tais.” You started to rap what you remembered until Damon got up from his chair.

You tried your hardest to work your camera time, although you were sure this wouldn’t make the cut as Damon gripped onto your cheeks to get your attention.

And he did when he pressed his lips to yours.

“New years came early.” You breathed, smiling up at Damon who pulled you to your feet.

He tossed an arm across your shoulders before clearing his throat and began rocking you from side to side beginning to sing off-key himself, “One hand in the air for the big city…”

You wrapped both arms around Damon’s frame; grinning at both of your foolishness.

EMMETT CULLEN

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” Emmett read the question off to you with a sigh.

He found this whole ordeal kinda lame until he persuaded the camera crew to provide shots, which wasn’t originally part of the plan. At this point in the game, he was taking shots after asking you questions just because. It wasn’t even a truth or drink segment but Emmett was charming and knew how to get his way.

“Ha!” Emmett laughed, golden eyes scanning over the card once more after downing his shot, “We don’t need to guess. I’ve got a sister who—

Slamming your hand on the table, you widened your eyes at your husband who sent you a dimpled grin. He held his hand out to calm you as he carried on.

“My sister Alice, what’s up if you’re watching! She’s a legit psychic and could tell us anything we need to know regarding my babe’s future.” Emmett admitted but knew the people were reluctant to believe that.

Especially since the room went quiet.

“Aw, don’t tell me you don’t believe me! I can call her up right now!”

“Emmett—

“It’s not that we don’t believe you. We get all sorts of people on this show for different things so maybe you can give us her contact info after?”

“Oh yeah,” Emmett smirked, “did you have vampires and witches too?”

“No we haven’t had any of those that I can recall.”

Emmett whipped his head around to yours, wiggling his brows while you scoffed at him. Of course he wouldn’t be on his best behavior, he wouldn’t be himself if he was.

“Put your library on shuffle. Explain the first song that comes up and why it best represents your relationship or in our case, marriage?” You moved on as Emmett couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

He lifted his body with ease, yanking his phone out to open Apple Music. He was the Apple Music guy and you were a Spotify girl, it was a whole debate that you didn’t want to get into right now.

“Alright, here it is. Starting the countdown! In three…two…one…!” And he pressed play followed by the music.

Emmett tossed the phone on the table after turning up the volume that would most likely blow out his speakers. He then began mimicking the guitar and drums as the band began to sing.

I never believed in things that I couldn't see

I said if I can't feel it then how can it be

No, no magic could happen to me

And then I saw you

I couldn't believe it, you took my heart

I couldn't retrieve it, said to myself

What's it all about

Now I know there can be no doubt

You can do magic

You can have anything that you desire

Magic, and you know

You're the one who can put out the fire

You know darn well

When you cast your spell you will get your way

When you hypnotize with your eyes

A heart of stone can turn to clay

He paused it, “well, well, how ironic for this song to best describe our marriage, huh babe? For the too young out there or uncultured, this was released in 1982 by a band called America. It’s a feel good song and when I’m with my babe, my wife, that’s what it feels like all of the time. Good vibes. Some might even say magical.” He snorted to himself, tipping a imaginary (most likely witch) hat.

The insiders he was throwing right underneath these people’s noses was actually a little funny, stupid but funny regardless.

“She’s from a wicked place herself, Louisiana and this was actually the first song I remembered hearing when I met her at this restaurant you have to take a boat through murky water to get to. That was a sign we should be together from the music itself.” Emmett told, keeping his eyes on you before he grabbed another shot, “and I’m a big believer in the signs.”

“Not the love spells?”

“So you admit you did a love spell on me?” Emmett dipped his head as he stared over at you, a sly grin threatening to appear.

“Please, I don’t need to do much to get you falling at my feet.”

Emmett’s booming laughter was heard, “she’s not wrong,” he tilted his head then took the shot, “and I love putting in the work if that means I get to have you.” He winked.

LEAH CLEARWATER

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” You blew out a breath as you could feel the heat radiating beneath your girlfriend’s dark brown eyes.

Leah chewed down on her bottom lip and you weren’t expecting her to answer this. However she wanted to be transparent and honest with you mainly, fuck the cameras.

“I love my mother,” Leah started, “she’s always been a good mother. I just always felt like there was a disconnect somewhere. I was always closer to my late father and Seth is closer to mom. It’s the usual weird dynamic, the son gravitates to the mother and the daughter with their father. We were no different.”

This you knew. It wasn’t something intentional but that was just the way it was and that did not necessarily mean that one parent loved the child any less or vice versa. You’ve seen Sue Clearwater plenty of times out of the five years you’ve been dating her daughter and she had the whole maternal vibe. She was sweet, constantly trying to get you to eat, nurturing, courageous and not to mention beautiful.

Leah sniffed, “like I said there’s this disconnect there long before my dad died but it seemed to increase afterwards? She’s currently in a relationship with this woman’s—that I don’t particularly care for father. He’s fine or whatever but it makes me feel gross that he literally helped produce someone who has caused one of my friends pain. He’s a reminder of that along with trying to take my dad’s place as if he wasn’t friends with him. It’s almost like he spit in my face being with my mom, that colonizer.”

Charlie Swan and Sue Clearwater had been in a relationship for over eleven years now. It still bothered your girlfriend to this day simply because she did not want to sit down and have a conversation about it. Leah did not want to waste her breath but it was evident that Charlie wasn’t going anywhere. Especially since him and Sue moved out to Oklahoma years ago to start a new chapter in lives together.

“So I say we’re content. There’s just things we don’t want to see eye to eye on. I have no problem voicing my opinions to my mom, that’s my mom. And she understands how I feel and that it’s not going to change. We love from a distance but if I need her she’ll be here in a heartbeat and if she needs me, I’ll be around.” Leah informed with her signature lisp and a sting in her eyes.

You knew Leah didn’t want you comfort her. She didn’t like to be seen as weak and you told her showing emotion never meant that you were weak. Leah’s been through a lot of hurt, was bitter towards certain people with every reason but was still healing after all these years.

There was no timeline for that.

“Let’s change the subject already!” Leah rubbed at one of her eyes as she continued sitting slouched, “What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“It plays a prominent role in my life. Family is very important to me, we’re all very close. Very affectionate. I lost both of my parents at eighteen and was thankful enough to have godparents that were willing to look after me. My parents were very loving and my godparents are the same. I carry that with everyone around me, including Leah. I love giving love as much as receiving it.” You answered making Leah scowl, who bit down on her nail as she shook her head at you.

“She’s the grumpy girlfriend but a big softie at heart that just simply wants to be loved.”

“Oh god,” Leah wanted to sink into the floor, “don’t talk about me like I’m not even here.”

“Okay, Leah. Do you feel loved by me?”

“Yeah of course I do. What kinda question is that?” Leah frowned.

“Good and I’m going to keep loving you in public and behind closed doors. We’ve been together five years, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

You exhaled, “We’re not focusing on the what if’s, we live in the now remember? So shut up and let’s make out.”

“Ew, not in front of these strangers.”

“Aw come on, live a little. You know you can’t resist all this.” You ran a hand down your body making Leah snort and look away in horror.

“…Later.” She whispered, peeking back at you, although the mic was still on.

You kissed your lips at Leah who flicked the card at you, knowing you wouldn’t be stopping the love any time soon and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

[chenyann]

Missed kiss💋

Rook hunt 🏹

All you wanted was to get to class so you give your friend a kiss on the cheek to let you go but Rook has other plans!

Ahhh! It's finally done^^ft.brother like deuce

This is a sfw,fluff,bit suggestive? It kinda shows/talks making out. The rough draft got alot of love so thank you very much♡ I'm happy yall seem to like my ideas ~yako♡ épouse-moi means marry me Mon ami means my friend Je ťaime mon ange Means I love you my angel

Friends

                  [ Nrc courtyard 12:21pm]

That is what you and Rook are;Friends. Nothing more nothing less,yes he could be romantic at times and make you blush,coo at you,take care of your skin routine,care for you when you're ill and call you mon amour.But it's just in a platonic sense….right?

You sit there pondering if yall are just friends,knowing very well your love for him is blossoming its wings like forget-me-nots and starting to take flight with the other doves who found love.What did that mean..? Why did he say that and didn't tell me….?

           (Flash back)

              [Pomefiore lounge 7:48pm]

"épouse-moi'' Rook said ``In the middle of one of yalls nightly conversations."huh? What does that mean'' you asked with curious eyes, similar to a curious baby deer when they first learn how to walk.``Nothing mon ami'' Rook said with a smile…warm…his smile felt like when you're basking in the sun for the first time in a while,its rays tickle your skin and settle down on a good patch of skin.He leaned down to his tea cup and takes a sip,you do the same as him and bring the tea cup to your lips.You can feel the tea trickling down your throat,it's warm and it's florescent taste lingers in your mouth as he starts talking again,moments later your had forgot those words he said and talked about little nothings to pass time, while basking in each others presence.

[NRC courtyard 12:30pm]

You sat there oh so elegantly looking like you're deep in thought. not really you were just sitting there normally.Every little thing you did Rook found elegant;as gentle as a dogwood petal falling in a pond, your skin radiating  the sun, with that cute little pout on your cute Lil face while you're stuck in thought.Rook wonders what you're thinking about,perhaps you're thinking about home,perhaps the weather,or your school work,maybe you're thinking about him..?He jokingly put his hand on his forehead and he waved himself some air with flicks of his other hand at the thought of you thinking of him.

"Rook" A stern voice called out as he watched you."oui?Roi du Poison." Rook said as he laid his eyes on Vil,he looked Rook up and down and sighed "you're staring at the prefect.It's rude to stare too long." Vil said as he moved his hands to his hips."Apologies Roi du poison,but trickster is so eye-catching don't you think?" Rook said as he put his hand on his forehead,Vil wasn't having it though,he crossed his arms and spoke once more."You can stare later Rook,I'd rather not be late"

"Très bien, Roi du Poison I shall look later." Rook said with a fake sigh and looked back at you "farewell mon ami." And with that he skipped behind vil and happily followed him.

[Nrc courtyard benches 12:36pm]

You snapped out of your thoughts when a fuzzy gray blob plopped on your lap."Y/n the great grim has been looking for you all day! And all you were doing was spacing out!?" Grim huffed and stared at you then at a figure right by you,you looked at the person taking a moment to realize it was one half or the adeuce duo."oh hey deuce what's up?" They boy gave you a worried look and spoke up.

"Y/n I've been trying to get your attention for 5 minutes now…are you okay" you look at deuce and feel guilt banging in your stomach.. For five minutes? I should have at least heard him…. "I'm sorry deuce I was spacing out what did you need?" You said offering the boy a smile to reassure him you're okay,he gladly took the smile and returned it."We got Ace to wait for us while we get you to come to lunch ." You pondered back and frowned, you almost missed lunch too and they made Ace wait because of you…actually Ace deserved it because we made us wait 30 minutes to get to lunch too..

"Oh I'm sorry for the wait let's go" you said as you got up from the bench with grim in your arms and deuce by your side, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

                       [Lunchroom 12:37pm]

"Finally you were gone for so long that we only got 13 minutes til class" Ace said with a frown,sebek was going on about how he should eat his lunch quickly so he can be with his Waka-sama,Jack was eyeing you likely to see if your not looking well without asking,Epel was the only one who spoke up.

"Ya actin' Like ya ain't the one who made us wait 30 minutes 'cause you got in trouble with ya dorm leader."epel let his accent slip but he paid no mind it's likely he just wanna fight so you sat down with deuce and grim,eating the food deuce got for you.  

                     [Lunchroom 12:56pm]

Jack was the first to excuse himself,leaving the table with a kicking and screaming epel with him,next it was sebek who left saying he has to guard his young master to his next period.Leaving the boys who were there since day one, the adeuce Duo and grim…

"Hey y/n you okay? you're spacing out again." Deuce asked, pulling you out of your thoughts."im fine deuce" you pause to think of a different topic"hey when is our next class?" you asked with a smile deuce returned it Ace gagged "hurry up lovebirds" deuce frowned "Ace dude that's gross bro we see each other as siblings." Ace looked shocked for a moment then just turned away "our next class is crewel and it's at 1:00" deuce said as you took your phone out.

"One-o-clock?" You asked,deuce smiled and shook his head 'yes'.You showed him your phone at first there was nothing to offer of the ordinary,your lock screen of a sleeping grim,  a few messages from deuce when he wanted to find you,game notifications,class notifications and- that's when he saw it.

In big numbers read 1:17pm,deuce scrambled to get his phone out and without a doubt his phone read 1:17pm. 

Crap…

    Yall were late to class, even worse crewels class,Trein would at least give you a warning or extra homework that wasn't really hard,Vargas would just make you do 1 lap in the field and the other teachers didn't care that you were late they just wanted you to attend class.

[Nrc hallway 1:18pm]

Y/n wasn't at the courtyard,the cafeteria or at ramshackle. Rook thought as he let out a huff "where is my mon amour at?" He put his hand to his forehead while walking down empty halls,the Pitter patter of hurried steps echoed in rooks ears.

Ah…Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade! Perhaps they know where my mon amour is. Before he could ask, a familiar figure was caught in his line of sight.

"Mon ami!" He latched his arm to your wrist ever-so-gently.The sun grasping you with its eternal warmth,gently showering you with its rays.A star like you can't compare,but what if you are not a star but the sun's lover? The moon…perhaps you only saw yourself as a star because you're scared….eyes that blossom like flowers in spring meadows…the moon needs the sun like how the sun needs the moon.

In the end the sun always comes back y/n….

[Nrc hallway 1:22pm]

You felt a hand wrap around your wrist and gently pulls you in,resting against a firm but soft torso like how you feel when resting in a meadow.A hard ground but the soft flowers tickle your skin ever-so-slightly touching you,you snap out your thoughts when the person speaks.

"Mon ami,I've been searching for you!" It was  Rook who was speaking,you would have loved to stay and chat but you didn't want to get chewed out by crewel."I'm sorry Rook I'm in a rush" you said as you tried to wiggle out his grasp."But mon ami-" he was cut off by your friend "hurry up y/n" Ace yelled ,but Rook didn't yield in fact he held you closer.

"Yall just go on without me okay!" You yelled to your friends "your funeral y/n!" Ace yelled back while picking up grim, it was deuce who was less happy about it but he compiled."okay be careful y/n" he yelled as he scattered with Ace and grim.

"Rook, I really need to go. I'm about 20 minutes late to class" you said as he loosened his grip on you,but never letting you fully go.The way his green eyes bore into your own made a shiver run down your back. His stare was so captivating that for a moment, you almost wanted to skip and stay with him.Yall sat in comfortable silence until an idea popped in your head "If I give you a kiss will you let me go?"

Rook looked taken aback for a moment and had a giddy smile on his lips."Oui" he said Rook’s eyes were pretty much illuminating the hallway by now, his eyes were so bright even brighter than the sun.

You lean forward towards him, you hold his face in your hands and give Rook a peck on the cheek. Mwah 

"non non mon ami you missed"

Rook said with a sigh and frowned looking at you."What" you stare at him like a deer in the headlights "what did I miss?" You asked,With the gentleness of a feather, and speed of an arrow he kissed you.Capturing your lips in his,Finally he let your wrist go but you wanted to kiss him a little longer.Its likely Rook wanted the same because the hand that once held your wrist snaked down to your waist,his other hand travels to your head supporting it.

Once he finally pulled back five minutes later to gaze into your eyes cheekily, you shot him an angry glare.

"Très bien mon amour!But next time I won't stop to let go" he said with a smug grin,you turn your back to him with a huff and walk off to crewels class forgetting you're even late. As you turned the corner you heard the huntsman one last time "Je ťaime mon ange!" 

The warmth that was on your lips lingers in your mind,such a strange huntsman who would love the moon so much as to kiss it?At least I know the sun loves me just as much as I love him.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Transformers Fan-Headcanon & Theory: Optimus & Megatron Of EarthSpark Are Eon-Boomers...

[Note: Reblogging This Without Permission Is Forbidden, so please don’t do it.] 

well besides Megatron from EarthSpark being a Sweetie Energon-Pie that you just want to glomp, because is too precious for this Multiverse...

and the whole Optimus being a Himbo Prime...

I can’t help but view them as being what I like to call, “Eon-Boomers”...

if I can view Lucifer, The Rebel Angels and most Other Angels as “Eon-Boomers” then I’m going to view most Cybertronians as Eon-Boomers as well.

TFA-Optimus is possibly much younger than most versions of himself, so he doesn’t really count as a Eon-Boomer....but most versions of himself does...

like G1-Optimus Prime, he is most defiantly a Eon-Boomer...

Optimus Primal from the Beast Wars and Beast Machines, no he doesn’t count as a Eon-Boomer, seeing as he is technically Optimus Prime’s descendant.

well if you think about it, it was the Eon-Boomer Autobots and Decepticons that ruined Cybertron, and only half of them weren’t Eon-Boomers...

Bumblebee and a few of the other much younger Autobots and Decepticons during that time, would count as something else...but not Eon-Boomers.

and it was the Eon-Boomers that started it....

and since the Autobot Eon-Boomers have more influence, of course they will put the blame on the Decepticons for what happen on Cybertron, instead of taking part of the responsibility...and Optimus probably didn’t even bother to correct the Autobots he was leading....plus no matter the universe, there will be a Optimus Prime who will be disrespectful to the Mother Allspark....

(TFA-Optimus breaking the Allspark, counts as being disrespectful to her.)     

Megatron have better control over your Himbo Prime of a Husband, lol. XD 

like picture those two being in a car but it’s like giant size or like they have shrunk so they could fit inside, and Earthspark-Megatron & Optimus are in the front and their kids Optimus Primal & Megatron Jr. are in the back...

and they are like in little chibi forms, and they are fighting, and right in the middle is like a Baby version of Sari’s robot mode, she is in the baby seat...

and Megatron Sr. is up front and telling them that he will turn this car around if they don’t stop fighting or making their sister cry. XD

Optimus Prime/Himbo Prime is trying to tell him to calm down, and Megatron goes off on him saying “your not home with them as much as me, you don’t know how much I have to work to keep them from making a mess of the house, and let’s not forget keeping the baby asleep when it is her rest cycle time!”

like Optimus being the Dad that goes to work, and Megatron being the househusband who is the Dad who stays home sometimes when not taking their two older sons to school or leaving their baby daughter with Arcee.

it be kind of funny if the Terrans learned what a “Boomer” is and start calling Optimus Prime this, which could really confuse him...

like he could be sitting with Megatron and it be just them and the other Autobots (minus Bumblebee) and he is just drinking his Energon from a very large class and he is complaining about how the young terrans, keep calling him a “Boomer” and even throw in “Eon-Boomer” every once in a while...

and he has no idea on both Cybertron and Earth, what it all means.

Megatron who understands what it means, just listens and takes a drink but refuses to tell Optimus what it means, seeing as it is his karma.

not everyone has to agree, but I’m still gonna view Optimus from EarthSpark as a “Himbo Prime” because well, he is working with those disgusting humans who are called G.H.O.S.T. and let’s not forget the few Himbo Prime moments he has...which involved both human and terran cybertronian children.

and even the Allspark incident, once again Megatron do something about your Himbo Prime of a Husband. XD

I am a Defective Earth Angel who also self nickname dubs herself/themself as The Embodiment Of Weirdness, and this is just gonna be one of my weird moments where I get weird theories and fan headcanons about some fandoms.

well it’s better when I’m not being my weird self, like when I get really sad or peeved off at something...I guess it’s better when I’m just being my weird self.

Optimus and Megatron from most timelines and alternate universe and not just EarthSpark, are Eon-Boomers....even the ones from Transformers Prime and the Transformers Live Action Movie Timelines...  

the Eon-Boomers ruined Cybertron, have them all stand in the corner for a timeout! so says The Mother Allspark! lol XD

also I want to say at first I wasn’t going to bother with the whole “do not reblog without permission” thing be placed on here and even for the tags...

I didn’t bother with it in the last post before this....but I’m going put it for this anyway, but it is slightly different as you might of read.

but if it ends up getting freaking ignored again, I might have to just cross that out or edit it out and edit that one tag out, it was enough when I had to deal with just being one person, and then there were two....

I am thankful to those who do like my work, do end up respecting the rule.

and for some posts that don’t have the “do not reblog without permission” on it, is the type that can be reblog without even asking, like that ship drawing I did of Sarivette and there was a reason I didn’t bother with placing the tag that says “do not reblog without permission” and even the note that would of confirmed it at the very top, it has to do with some stuff that has been happening.

but the first one to reblog the Sarivette, I don’t mind, and if some other people reblog that drawing as well, they can, I mean if they like the drawing, but should make sure to both like and reblog.

anyway just one more month to go before the new FNAF Ruin DLC.

I think we should just call the blonde fanon version of Cassie by a different name and just view her as a “Player-2″ type character, since the canon version of her isn’t blonde but appears to have brunette or auburn hair.

I think Emma is still a good name to call the Fanon Blonde version of Cassie.

anyway hope some like the idea of calling some of the Autobots and Decepticons as “Eon-Boomers” and only half of them would be, those who are much younger than them who had joined the fight later on, wont be Eon-Boomers, but still be hold a bit responsible for joining The Eon-Boomers in making a even bigger mess of Cybertron instead.

Optimus isn’t just a Himbo Prime, he is also a Eon-Boomer.

and Megatron is just a Sweetie Energon-Pie & a Eon-Boomer. XD              

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

The Plot of Good Omens, as transcribed by someone who has next to no idea what the show is about

I tend to enjoy watching people who have no idea what they're talking about summarize work. It tends to be a fun time.

So I thought I'd try to do that with Good Omens, a show I've never seen properly. I've seen a touch of fanart, and maybe few screencaps, but nothing super big. I've maybe half payed attention to the stuff when it shows up on my dash. I know there's an angel and a devil, one is named Crowley but I have no idea which one (the other is named Azfodazzle or something.). So this is just me confidently lying:

Sometimes shows with a morality problem will display this by using the whole "angel and devil on the shoulder" bit. What if instead of being a visual metaphor, someone actually had an angel and devil over their shoulder talking about what they should do? (And what if those angel and devil characters ended up falling in love)?

Asfodelle is a guardian angel sent down to help the life of Wendall Shanks, a depressed teenager. However, Wendall hasn't just attracted a guardian angel, he's attracted a guardian devil. Crowley is a devil who tries to use Wendall as a source of chaos.

Wendall is a teenage boy with teenager problems- he's too shy to talk to the girl he likes, he's bullied in school, he's really stressed about his final exams. Now with two supernatural beings that are influencing his life, Wendall finds himself in the middle of a confusing battle between good and evil.

The complicated relationship between Azphorus and Crowley keeps a lot of the fans invested. It turns out they actually agree on certain things- they both think that Wendall needs to take action in his life in order to fix his problems, they end up becoming very protective of Wendall, and they sort of fall in love with eachother.

Over the course of the seasons, Asphadrill ends up pulled away from heaven, as he questions the intentions of the angels. Do they really want what's best for the humans? Meanwhile, Crowley stops pushing people towards evil, and more pushing them towards aspiring to better themselves by any means nessasary. Thanks to Azphadelle's influenece, the idea of bettering someone changes- Crowley realizes that being a genuinely good person makes Wendall (and himself) happy, and starts to question the motives of his demonic superiors.

The story reaches a major turning point as Azphorus ends up being kicked out of heaven, and Crowley gets kicked out of hell. Wendall ends up getting a different guardian angel, one who has a very different idea of what Wendall is supposed to be.

The two have to rescue Wendall from Steve's control, as Steve attempts to destory everything Azforelle and Crowley have built. But Wendall might be too far gone- and succumbs to guilt over his previous actions. Wendall is driven into a depressive state that's worse than the one he was in when they all first met. Thankfully, Asforelle and Crowley end up convincing Wendall to take control of his own life, even at the cost of abandoning the two. Thus, outside of the control of the system, everyone is better off.

That's the entire plot of Good Omens, I just decided. Anyway, maybe I'll look more into the content, and then make a similar post that isn't 99.9% made up- perhaps only 90% made up, or even 80%.

Anyway, let me know how wrong this was. You could lie to me about the plot points as well, tell me there's a raptor secretary that's really important to the plot (sure, Shannon the raptor, totally real character in Good Omens). I will probably not be able to tell if the plot is real or not.

[haloburns]

What books, series, or movies influenced your writing most?

hmmm lets see

percy jackson is a recent influence. the "dead is" series is very formative for me, too. simon vs the homosapiens, series of unfortunate events, the secret series (SOUE style mystery that is based on the five senses with synesthesia... its so good. its middle school age but man. its so fucking good.), vladimir todd, CIRQUE DU FREAK. i like that cheeky tone in the face of insurmountable odds. ....i'm just now realizing how many weird books i read as a kid. OH and the enchanted forest series. gods, you wanna talk about subversive cheeky lit?? SUCH good book that does world building in literally the best way. gregor the overlander for that crushing inevitablity and the weight of a people's expectations for you to be a hero that suzanne collins does SO fucking well. sherrilyn kenyon's nick chronicles too. man they're so fucking funny and they have the perfect balance of "i'm going to make a joke" to "shits fucking serious mate" its perfect.

oh, and even tho i'm annoyed with this author currently for the way i think she's taking the story, but kresley cole's poison princess series (tarot cards personified, fated to fight each other to the death fro the amusement of gods that no longer exist....). (she's actually written two smut series that i fucking ADORE but that's besides the point)

tv series, it'd probably be Bones for the romance, sense8 for the interconnected queer love story, buffy for the girl against the world vibes, angel for the brooding hero. buffy & angel also for the dry wit i aspire to, the only thing whedon excelled at. oh, young royals too. man the tension between wille and simon is just. amazing. and the queer story its wrapped in is just. gods.

i dunno if i have any movies that have influenced my writing... i'll think about this one and get back to you alskjdflksjdf

i also have to give a special shout out to that quote from dan levy that's something like he says that schitt's creek isn't in a homophobic world because he's tired of those stories and if you want your world to change, you gotta start with the stories you're telling and that. that is such good advice and i'm using it in everything i possibly can. there are other obstacles, homophobia is a tired and boring on in fic. let's do something else

and i also gotta mention the fic writers that have influenced my writing, whether they're aware of it or not.

first off, there's @not-close-to-straight just because i fucking LOVE how cinematically she writes, tension and drama that is literally unparalled (more than words STILL gets me and its been two years. the world won't end if we rest and its recent big twist has me foaming at the mouth BECAUSE I SHOULDVE SEEN IT BUT I DIDNT AND GODS I WISH I COULD DO THAT), and the big sweeping love stories that are twined with the drama and make my heart ache, no matter how many times i've read that couple fall in love... when i was writing early danny/mateo and trying to figure out how to manage their first kiss and make it good, i talked to her and reread as many of her fics as i could to pick apart what makes a good first kiss. i want to be that good when i grow up.

also @dreamwraith is literally everything i try to be when i write. i use his fics ALL THE TIME as research. the way he captures intense emotions and small tender gestures is so perfect, i can literally only try and be half as good. there's a fic he wrote that has a wonderfully heartbreaking scene of grief, and i read it i have no idea how many times while trying to write my invisobang. and the romance he writes?? tooth rotting sweet and heart achingly soft. so perfect.

and special shoutout to @ashilrak because without her (and my other friends from the groupchat), i probably wouldn't publish ANYTHING i write. and also, the way she writes romance is just... gods, its good, all of the flavors of it. imagery on point, streamlined into nice neat packages in a way i could never manage. the dedication to her writing is literally next to none, and i can only dream to be like that.

okay this is probably mroe than you wanted to know but apparently i'm feeling sappy and rambly today so here ya go! 💖

[reflections-on-self]

On Choosing a Career

The next most difficult question, after determining whether or not I intend to have children in this world, is the question best phrased in the title of Vladimir Lenin's What Is To Be Done?

What is to be done?

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a jet pilot. I was terrified of jets. They were loud and I hated loud noises as a child. But there was something magical about them: they were in the sky! They were with the birds, but they flew much, much faster than the birds. And the planes were all beautiful to my childhood eyes: it is difficult to describe the feeling evoked when one witnesses a pass of America's Blue Angels in their signature blue-and-yellow F/A-18 Hornets. Being a kid at the time, this especially had a big impression on me.

I must not have been a completely clueless child, for, from an early age, I was aware of the relationship between the jets I saw in the sky and the US military. But you could imagine that, lacking any kind of serious adult influence to convince me otherwise, I truly believed that the jets I saw in the sky were defending that vague idea I knew at the time as "America."

So, for the first quarter of my short life, I believed I wanted to be a fighter jet pilot. Through middle school and early high school, I prepared myself to join the US Air Force or the US Navy. I joined the Civil Air Patrol (CAP) and went to a private military school for the first half of my freshman year of high school. I wanted to become a cadet at one of the military service academies, which I hoped guarantee me a job as a pilot.

Sometime in high school, I believe my sophomore year, I took an introductory psychology class. It was my first exposure to the concept of psychology. I immediately found the topic interesting, so I switched from wanting to join the military and become a pilot to wanting to join the military and become a psychiatrist. I think I remember at the time that I believed I wanted to help people and serve my country.

This was a dramatic shift, and it reflected the fact that I began to believe in high school that I would not qualify to become a pilot as a result of my eyesight.

I performed relatively poorly in high school. Public high school in the US, as I would guess any reader who has had the misfortune to experience it might agree, can be a nightmare for self-discovery. By the end of high school, I still had no idea what I wanted to do except the vague notion that I wanted to serve the public in some way. I'd won the school's election for senior class president, which boosted my confidence in believing that I could perform well in some kind of government-related work. It is perhaps here that I decided that I wanted to become a foreign service officer, shortly after a tour I was given of the State Department headquarters in D.C. with a group of CAP cadets.

I enrolled at a nearby college and began taking political science courses. My professors were brilliant and honest. They were not shy about the realities of the wild history of the United States, with its many political contradictions and class-based internal conflicts. This was at the height of the Trump presidency, so debates about the state of what we collectively understood as "our democracy" were frequent.

Around this same time, I was very lucky to meet one of my closest friends, who first introduced me to the basic ideas behind Marxist political-economic theory. We were both employees at a movie theater, so we had many opportunities to discuss these dense, generally philosophically-heavy concepts with each other while ushering theaters together. Looking back, it's all quite serendipitous. Had I not met that friend, I doubt that I ever would have taken Marxist ideas as seriously as I ended up taking them. That would come to be both a blessing and a curse, though, I'm happy to say that, even now, it is more of a blessing that I discovered Marxism when I did.

Being a Marxist-Leninist throughout college made choosing a career in the United States in the early 2020s rather challenging. I lived near a military base, so any job that paid a decent salary was associated with the military-industrial complex that I had come to despise, and therefore, out of the question. Obviously, there was no hope of joining the military and "defending my country" anymore: there was no "country" to defend at that point in my eyes, only class interests. To protect the class interests of the bourgeoisie – which I was not, to my understanding, a part of – seemed like one of the biggest wastes of my life that I could manage. Eventually, this kind of thinking would lead me to further conclude that a job as a foreign service officer working with the Department of State would be just as bootlick-y as joining the military, or working as a civilian for a military contractor.

This idea was intensified when I accepted an offer for a journalism internship with the Institute for Policy Studies (IPS), which is the most left-leaning think tank in Washington, D.C. During the summer of 2019, I conducted research and wrote articles for IPS. The work confirmed my Marxist tendencies, and, perhaps even more frighteningly, it seemed to confirm my Leninist sentiments, as well. D.C. is a beast. That's really the only way I can think to put it.

I returned from the experience and decided to switch my major from Political Science to Philosophy. What an idea. I believe it was one of the best and possibly worst decisions I'd ever made for myself. However, it was also the perfect major to become easily distracted with irrelevant problems. Luckily, I think that this is all part of the journey.

At this point, I was with a romantic partner with whom I can only guess the universe introduced me to so that I would learn a handful of important lessons that I will not go into in this essay. All that I think needs to be said about this chapter of my life is that I became very focused on little else but the relationship I was in with that person, and, looking back, this was one of the biggest mistakes I believe I've ever made in my life. I think I became very preoccupied with trying to make a stable life with that person.

One of the mistakes that I made in trying to make a stable life with that person instead of focusing on my own goals: I took on an internship for an Elon Musk-run company. I won't get into details, but needless to say, it was one of the worst experiences I'd ever committed myself to. I was lucky that it was only for a few months and that I was able to get out of the situation almost as soon as I'd realized how poorly the place was ran. It was there that I experienced firsthand that, wherever I work, the people who work there must be valued for their labor in ways that matter to them. No shortcuts around that.

I had a decent enough resumé that I was able to find a job back home at the institution I graduated from. I was a web developer for a little over a year between 2022-2023. Most of that year was spent recovering from the experience I'd had working at Musk's company. Then I met the person I wrote about in my first essay, which would completely change everything for me.

Had I not learned? Perhaps. It was a romantic relationship that pulled me out of my daily routine in September 2022 and would make its mark on my heart that, to this day, occasionally stings. When I met her, I suddenly didn't care about money anymore. To be fair, she, too, seemed to be a Marxist, and seemed to find this whole thing that we're all experiencing just as troubling as I did. Nobody else seemed to see that or feel it.

But, for this, I will cut myself some slack. I did fall in love, whatever the hell that means. Shortly after we met, I had this brief fantasy that we could both abandon the madness that was the world around us for a while and serve in the Peace Corps together. I wouldn't be rich, I wouldn't be quite "at home," I probably wouldn't even really know what I was doing – but I'd be working to help somebody, the work would be good work, and I'd be with her. That's all I wanted. That is, even now, all I want.

Well, anyway, the relationship was too brief and she was too whimsical (she was an accordion player) to realize how seriously I felt, how serious what we'd both stumbled upon seemed to be. She was too scared to be honest with me that she loved me, I could tell. I tried very hard to give us the space, the time, whatever it was that was needed for us to grow into something. But something went wrong. The fires in Canada, the distractive nature of our modern society, my stupidity in facing a real situation, shit, I don't know. If I could ask her, I would. But I am not interested in being toyed with, I'm not interested in someone who won't be just a tad more vulnerable and show me that they care.

For a short while, I resolved that I would live my life as if she were here anyway. The idea seemed beautiful to me. I thought it might honor best what I truly believed was supposed to be the big one. I even went through most of the process to join the Peace Corps, alone, and was bound to leave for Botswana later this year.

But I dropped out of the process. Not because I don't want to serve in the Peace Corps, not because I'm bitter about what happened between her and I and I'm taking it out on a life-changing journey in Botswana, but because the 2-year commitment feels just too long for me right now when I barely know what I want to do today. I believe that someday, if I can orient my life in that direction, I can live the dream of serving in the Peace Corps with someone that loves me, and that I love. That sounds wonderful. But I have a very, very hard time getting over this feeling of loss that was induced by the failure of that relationship. It seems fair to say that I should just wait on the Peace Corps until I'm in a much better place.

In the wake of her absence, sometimes, I've been both determined and distraught. I at least put some thought into the future I hope to build for myself, career-wise, before signing up for the Peace Corps. These reflections also had important implications for the decision I made to ultimately postpone Peace Corps service for a later time in my life.

At the end of the day, I don't believe that I ever wanted anything different from what most people throughout history have wanted: peace, community, love, purpose. That these attributes of life are stable, always accessible, and observable in my day-to-day experience. That, whatever I'm doing, I'm helping support those things, in my life and in the lives of others. This all with the deep understanding that others are me. A deep assumption. I could never claim to know such a thing. I want to stand up on a table and yell, like I'm Socrates, "I don't know anything!!!" – but I know that this would cause some trouble in the library I write this from. I assume that others are me in the deepest sense of being that I can express.

So the first thing I thought I wanted to be when I cleared her from my life's plans was a neurosurgeon.

Neurosurgery seemed (and sometimes still seems) like the coolest field in the world to me. We, humans, have managed to create a whole subject, a whole library of understanding, for manually fixing the most mysterious material "thing" in existence: our very own brains. God, what kind of things about reality do neurosurgeons know? How do they see this world? I have wanted to know. The immediate interest goes back to the very purpose of this blog: explorations on selfhood. What, I thought, could be more self-exploratory than learning how to fix problems that involve the nervous system and fixing them with my very hands?

Still now, it pains me to write that paragraph and wonder these days if that is truly what I want to do. Because it does sound interesting. I believe I have the intelligence, coordination, and patience to make a successful career out of it, if I were to really dedicate myself to it.

Community, love, purpose. I am just about certain that a career in neurosurgery would allow me to live with all three. But peace...

Neurosurgeons work, I've been told, absolutely horrific hours. That alone may not be such a deterrent, except for the fact that I'd be working in such high-stakes situations for such large amounts of time and that the risks could involve not only the loss of a patient's life but also legal ramifications were I to make a serious mistake. I am aware I do not make serious mistakes very often, but that is no reason to jump into a very difficult career path in my hubris.

My initial feelings about neurosurgery were likely influenced by the profound loss I felt that I'd experienced with her. I wanted to know what, at the source, was the cause of all of this pain. I could only point to my own brain and say that, somewhere in there, the intense suffering that I had felt and sometimes feel when I think about what happened between us is created. I have no illusions that neurosurgery can solve such problems. But the idea that I could know the brain so intimately so as to be able to work it, fix it, through my very own physical activity, seemed really awesome.

I briefly read the beginning of Dr. Henry Marsh's Do No Harm, a book about a British neurosurgeon's experience. Now, I think that it's just because he's British, but the book was quick to sour me on the idea of becoming a neurosurgeon. The guy had such a negative view of life and his career, although, the writing was outstanding. Marsh even said that he chose to jump into the medical field because of an unrequited love situation. I thought, what!? That's not me! and I began to consider alternatives.

Neurosurgery is awesome and I am not certain that I won't still try to pursue it.

The thing is, I happen to live near one of the best medical schools in the country and, supposedly, in the world. When I started to really think about what I wanted to do with my life, I believe I dove straight for neurosurgery because of a handful of reasons:

Being a neurosurgeon would give me an excuse to completely dedicate myself to my own work. Nobody could tell me I couldn't do this or that, because in the end, if I'm doing it for my career, then I'm doing it for the benefit of both myself and the patient in the long run. I can see this being quite the emotional barrier to put up between myself and the rest of the world.

Again, the surface-level prestige. The kid who wanted to be a pilot when he was a boy grew up and began to claim that he would like to become a neurosurgeon. Between these two positions? Lots of fame, public attention, a kind of fascination, even. At least that I've noticed in American society. This is not a good nor a bad thing in my view.

But also, the deep internal prestige. I work on fixing people's brains with my hands. Man, if I could say that to myself and know that it was true, I'd feel like the coolest guy in the world.

Financial security for myself and my future family (if I have one). As a neurosurgeon, if I wanted, I would imagine that I could move and set up shop just about anywhere in the world.

Being the leader of a diverse team. Neurosurgeons operate in contexts in which they work with fellow surgeons, other doctors, residents, nurses, health techs, etc. I'd love to feel that I am part of a community that values my work and are individual professionals in their own right.

In the end, good reasons, but not good enough, in my opinion. Prestige and isolation should not be the primary reasons to take on a job, I would think. Of course, there are situations in which perhaps that would be the best career path for an individual. I won't deny that I seriously believed for a while that this seemed like the only way I could feel "useful" to the world after losing her. But I am not Dr. Marsh, I'm not depressed, I should not make decisions about my career solely based off of the failure of a romantic relationship. No matter how hard it hurt me that it didn't work out, my choice to become any particularly laborious and intensely challenging role simply out of feeling emotionally invincible post-breakup simply doesn't feel good enough a reason anymore. The path to becoming a neurosurgeon is long, arduous, bound to cause immense suffering on my future self and the people whom that being will love. Lately, it has seemed a path worth letting go of.

I still believe I would like to become a medical doctor of some kind. First, because I feel an obligation to my fellow human beings on a fundamental level. Without a community of human beings to raise me, be patient with and properly reprimand me when I've failed myself or others, to educate me in various matters, and provide me with various desires and needs as well as the means to fulfill them, I believe my life would have been a very negative experience overall. Other people try. A deep assumption of mine is that I need to try, too. Perhaps what little practical applications of Marxism that are left in me are found in this core idea. I was not raised alone, but by a massive, perpetually changing village of human beings, mostly Americans, all with their own lives, yet, at times, so genuinely preoccupied with the state of mine.

I hate to admit, so beautifully preoccupied with the state of mine. At times.

I don't denote that the community that raised me is American to justify that I would inevitably become a doctor through the American healthcare system, which, with what little I know about that behemoth, I understand to be a very complex and likely flawed system. Rather, there is a more obvious and "unshakeable" crime that my people have committed that has resulted in my beginning to seriously question whether or not I should become a doctor anywhere in the world.

I must wonder, as I type this, if any potential reader is already beginning to catch on to what I'm about to begin writing about. That this crime is so deeply ingrained in our collective psyche now, that I haven't even got to type the words yet, and I believe there's a chance that someone who manages to find this and read it already knows I am talking about the war crimes committed by the Israel Defense Forces and supported by the United States government at the al-Ahli and al-Shifa hospitals in the Gaza Strip.

Anyone who is aware of what has happened to hospitals in Gaza might appreciate my reluctance to dedicate myself to medicine in the West in the aftermath. For a while, I was very angry with the world as the news poured in daily of Israeli airstrikes on civilians in the Gaza Strip. I work near people in positions of power in the United States, and there seemed to be no real sense of remorse, regret, indignation, no real sense of what was even going on, among just about every single person I interacted with. I still find myself seriously disoriented and often demotivated to do anything serious with my career after all of that. How can I take this world seriously anymore? Over 30,000 killed. More than thirty thousand people killed in five months. There are no words.

The truth is, I don't take this world that seriously anymore. I have come to value my own direct experience of life more than everything else. I used to want to change it all: I used to dream of a Red American future – housing, food, and meaningful labor for all; a single, tolerant, peaceful Palestinian state spanning the Jordan to the Mediterranean; a healthy Earth; a world that functioned in a kind of mutually-assured peace and harmony, without real borders. I still believe it's all possible, even probable, in due time. But I don't think I'll bother to waste my precious life energy toward any of those goals in particular anymore. I just don't feel the urgency of a burning world. I don't feel urgent about anything anymore. That was a world where she stayed, and while I'm sorry about how that sounds, I'm just about certain of my feelings on it and I wouldn't dare apologize for that. The world is not perfect. Its imperfection is most obvious right now when one calls to mind the suffering endured by human beings in and around the Gaza Strip.

Still, I must choose a career, as I don't intend to commit suicide (R.I.P. Aaron Bushnell). Since I don't intend to commit suicide, I must work with this body that I am expressing myself from and the situation that I have found myself in.

Becoming a medical doctor is still an attractive career path to me, because at the very least, no matter where I am, I am helping someone. Briefly, recently, I considered the path of the MD-PhD, or the physician-scientist. This is in keeping with my interest in studying the "self" through studying the brain, and I'd also get to be involved in clinical settings where I'd be helping people in my community. All of that sounds pretty neat to me.

Physician-scientists, however, are also victims of a system in which they work intense hours. They often compete for scant grant funding. While I'm sure I could succeed there, too, I ought to be honest with myself about the very real need for me to have time, real time, to pursue artistic interests on my off-time. Something tells me that MD-PhDs do not have a thing called "off-time," and it might be a really good idea to just pursue an MD or a PhD in a field that interests me, have that be my full-time, and do stuff like this, writing (and other forms of content creation), on the side.

To that end, I believe, that I have chosen as my primary plan to become a neuroradiologist and manga artist. For now.

A successful career in neuroradiology seems to provide me the ideal balance between working in a role that helps people directly, provides financial stability and a community of fellow professionals, allows me to work for established institutions, and lets me work relatively (to other medical professions) normal working hours. Also, brains. This will provide me with enough of an income to have my own place and, if, somehow, I manage to fall in love with someone else and we agree to start a family, assist in providing for them financially. And if I'm alone, well, I'll have money to travel.

On my off-time, I'm a manga artist. This is the funniest part of all of this: I know that, deep down, if I had all the time in the world and no pressure on me to do anything in particular coming from anywhere, I'd just become a 漫画家 (manga-ka) and write my dream manga. Since I was a kid, I'd always been into anime and manga. But early on, I was discouraged from drawing. My drawings were ugly as a kid. For a short time, I was involved in the Maplestory sprite animation community in my pre-teen days. I made some embarrassingly bad "Maplestory Music Videos" to Avril Lavigne and Breaking Benjamin. I gave up pretty quickly and turned my eyes skyward, bringing us back to the whole pilot ordeal.

I'd pretty much forgotten about all of that until I was with my friends one day, years ago, watching One Punch Man. I became inspired with an anime idea that was initially loosely based off a similar premise. Then, with a close friend of mine, we read Berserk by Kentarō Miura (RIP) together. That was the most inspiring graphic work I ever read at the time, though, it's important to note that it was my first real experience reading a manga. I began to form the dream as I read along of creating my own artistic masterpiece of Miura's level someday, his creative and visually artistic genius were truly impressive. I decided, eventually, that I would make a manga someday, no matter what. I haven't done any work at all to advance the original idea, but having let it simmer in my mind for about as long as any other important project, I believe I could create something truly interesting.

My drawing skills, in the current moment, are about the same as my childhood drawing skills. I'm 24 and turn 25 next month. I haven't even begun practicing again! I know that any artists who happen to read this will probably scoff at my treatment of this dream. I should be giving up that neuroradio-nonsense and throwing myself at the pencil and paper all the time! I should. I know I should.

But I can't. I feel better going for both. Even if I somehow fail, well, I'd rather have failed attempting to do both seriously than dedicate my life to one and become bored, deathly bored, with it. Besides – and I'm truly sorry to the soul that happens to read this and becomes exhausted at the amount of times I say something like this – this is all extra content to me since she left. I really wanted to not exist not that long ago. I love this world and the people in it, but that is true as well as the fact that I still feel completely lost without her. Completely lost. So, perhaps this is a symptom of that feeling of loss that I cannot seem to rid myself of. But that's all okay to me. As long as I'm allowed to process it the way I see fit, which is all of this, then I have nothing to complain about. Nothing at all.

So, here's what I think. I'm going to read the brain scans and I'm going to draw the cool characters and settings and tell some cool stories. To me, this all sounds perfect because it involves the use of my visual faculties so much. I love to see, to watch, to observe. To dig deep into a detailed piece of art with a mixture of my eyes and attention and extract that beautiful, vague idea that periodically appears, sometimes called meaning. I love that, and I'm not sorry for loving it enough that it keeps me on this often wretched-seeming Earth. Even if I'm an American.

I believe the path is there for me to make. I know I'll have to do some cutting. These days, anything goes. I no longer intend to look back, though I inevitably will again.

[probabludaistkf]

i heard you have ocs?

Oh heck yeah! Finally some one asked, bro you have no idea how long I’ve been holding this in warning it is LONG

Elijah

main OC he is currently 13 and about to go through a LOT. Half angel half demon also emo his father is a demon but doesn’t talk much about his mother and when asked dodges the question not because she’s dead or anything but she was part of his worst memories. All Elijah knows about her is that she was an angel, he also has a best friend who he’s known since the age of 4 named Xane (we’ll come onto him) in a foul attempt to learn more about his parents ,as his father is very secretive, he ends up roping his friends into the worst mess imaginable; they get into the middle of a war between two mafias as a third party that threatens to reveal all their secrets and one of his friends is directly involved with one side and his father the other. He also meets his grim reaper who in an act of mercy gave him three lives because he didn’t want to take someone so young. Elijah has an idol, a famous detective with no name, he aspires to be just like her no

likes: cats, mcr, Xane, Shelly (his girlfriend who he gets later on when he’s 15), the drums, skateboarding

dislikes: being called a vampire, being told what to do, his mother (but that comes later on), piano lessons (the ghost of an old lady teaches him and Xane on Sundays)

Xane

Just a lil’ ghost boy but not really, he wears a sheet over himself to look more like a ghost despite not being dead(the face on the sheet was drawn on by Elijah), although he does wish he was but not in a suicidal way. He is an orphan he was left on the doorstep of an old abandoned mansion and a married couple of ghosts took him in, the other ghosts weren’t pleased at first but soon grew attached to him. He’s very shy and doesn’t talk and he’s pretty much a wallflower. He does get bullied sometimes. No one has actually ever seen his face apart from the ghosts of course but no one else not even Elijah (he did get a glimpse but was knocked out immediately and forgot what happened). He also has a killer death metal voice. No one knows how he obtained that skill but you can always hear him at band practice.

likes : mochi, spiders, Elijah, skateboarding

dislikes: disobeying authority, the colour yellow, piano lessons, rin (we’ll come to him)

Anaiah

She is a dog girl she wasn’t originally thought so technically human. She has two older brothers Louis and Vencel and Louis is a bit of a mad scientist and he was testing to see if his dog girl serum was working which it did but he also made it to be permanent. He was making this serum because dog girls are fictional and he’s lost taste for prosthetic tails and ears. One method of obtaining his dream would be crossbreeding werewolves until he got results but that would be very illegal and expensive. She is quite the violent girl and is currently dealing with anger issues she may also be crushing on her friend. She plays the bass guitar and was taught be Vencel, Louis also taught her how to DJ and mix her own songs. She is very punk btw.

likes: Lilly, waffles, band practice, violence, her trusty bats (she has a lot her bedroom walls are lined with baseball bats), anime

dislikes: school rules, staying put for too long, eggs, spicy food

Lilly

She and her family are vampires and are very rich, her older brother is a famous pop idol and so to follow in his footsteps she became a popular influencer. He didn’t seem to pleased about it though. Most people recognise her from her brother which annoys her. When her brother got scouted and found out that dying his hair was in his contract she also dyed her hair the same shade of bright magenta. Her parent apply a lot of pressure on her to be perfect and get good grades but she likes hanging out with Anaiah because than she doesn’t have to be perfect she can do or be whatever she wants and she likes that same as when she’s making a video or on stream. It’s her dream to make as many people snails as her big brother does but she’ll soon learn why her brother doesn’t want her to take this path (he commits suicide). She is the groups lead female singer and she also plays the keyboard

likes: cats, boba, anime, sora/ whatever I’m gonna name him idk (her brother), spicy food

dislikes: being recognised for sora, being asked to change into a bat, rodents

YET TO BE NAMED!!!! Hopefully

Please note he is not a kitsune, I repeat NOT a kitsune!! He is a Korean yeoul they are completely different (probably make a post about it later this is already too long) he’s more average than the others also can’t do half the stuff they can because he’s Catholic. People often confuse him for Rin a kitsune exorcist who is an entirely different shade of orange btw. He does have an anthro form so the day I commit the grave sin of learning to draw furries you’ll start seeing more art of him. Doesn’t have much lore cause he’s a normal child apart from the fact his girlfriend is a slave to the mafia well one of them. He does help her cope and with his friends he’s trying to get her out of that hellhole. Also random fact he’s lactose intolerant and has a peanut allergy. He’s the guitarist and sometimes back up vocals. He is self taught and can often be caught playing the season 1 blue exorcist theme song to warm up

Likes: ramen, chicken, chicken flavoured ramen, cheese, peanut butter, blue exorcist,

dislikes: being unable to eat cheese and peanut butter, being banned from blue exorcist for mentioning the demonic, being called a kitsune

Also yet to be named seriously what is wrong with me

she is the poor victim of a human trafficking incident everything you can imagine she’s probably been forced to do it or had it done to her. I don’t know why I gave her so much trauma. She is a werewolf and her master is a high ranking executive of the mafia and is able to cover up his horrible acts, he is also a sex offender. Lilly is quite young but the miserable life she was forced to lead caused her to mature much faster than the others. I think I may stop here because I gave her way too much trauma so let’s look on the brighter side of things. She is unable to speak and so uses ASL(American sign language) or BSL (British sign language) (the day I learn to draw hands) she quickly bonded with Xane over that fact she also has many dog or wolf like tendencies for example tail wagging. Her tail conveys a lot of emotions even though her face might not. She does make sounds such as whining, barking or howling. In her anthro or wolf form she’s more comfortable and Is more likely to bark. She is also a Siberian wolf and if you can tell from the name she is indeed related to the Siberian husky so she is quite loud also the drama queen. To show affection she’ll lean on you and she licks YET TO BE NAMED!!!! instead of kisses, she does it around his neck and ears the first time she did it he misinterpreted it as a sexual gesture.

likes: chew toys, dog treats, YET TO BE NAMED!!!!, the dog park,

dislikes: her master, most forms of physical contact unless she deeply trusts you, stereotypes about what happens to her on a full moon (nothing happens apart from the fact she get her period)

Rin

Now this, this is a kitsune. You can tell from the number or tails he has he’s been around for more that 200 years. He’s also a major dick for no reason. He is worshipped and has a small shrine dedicated to him although it seems it’s most likely gone to his head. He’s an exorcist and keeps trying to exorcise the ghosts in Xane’s mansion Its the reason no one likes him. One day he was saved by this little girl who took him in and took care of him he did refuse he bit and scratched her but she seemed determined to show the fox affection even after he ran away she still loved him so he had no Choice but to settle down and be her new pet. The little girl is now an old lady and unknown to her a kitsune calls her ‘mama’ when no one’s around. He feels he has a debt to the woman but still hasn’t found a way to repay her even though he’s warded off all the evil spirits that could harm her resulting in her living a long, happy, healthy life but he still feels there’s he hasn’t done.

likes: feeling superior to people, stealing, being a fraud, scamming people

dislikes: being called a yeoul, being lied to, disrespect to his mama

[keepin-it-surreal]

NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW

Hey Tess army if you’re out there

Long time no post? 

This is true. I posted a single time. But alas I have **** in case you didn’t know and am a bit behind schedule!!!!!! [i am going insane and am not real]

Also funny thing I had this posted on my official global scholars blog for 24 hours

I am writing this. It is in the works. I am posting it because it will Make me come back and edit it faster, and I gotta post it on my global scholars blog ASAP….

To try to get back into it I am going to start with this small post. Probably a few more like this and we’ll see where it goes. I’m trying my best. So here it is….

THE BIGGEST CULTURAL DIFFERENCES IN ITALY FROM THE US

SPEECH

The stereotypes here are, to a certain extent, true. Italians are expressive. I wouldn’t call it yelling, but I will say I have quite a few times mistook some other emotion for anger. 

TOUCHINESS

We know the Italians for the likes of chaste kisses to the cheek and perhaps a slightly strange old man sense of touchiness, but in general comfort with physical touch is much deeper here. Maybe its the fact that without good friends I’m starved for physical affection, but honestly quite prefer it. Especially with young people, across genders they are much more comfortable hugging, one-arm hugging, patting, cheek-kissing, whispering, and so on and so forth with everyone, especially those of the opposite gender. At first it was a bit of a shock to see a boy with his arm around a girl and whisper in her ear while they both have respective significant others, but I’ve come to learn that it’s just how friends are with each other. Call me old fashioned, but I honestly think non-sexual physical affection is really important, and something the world could use a bit more of. I think its a way to make us feel a bit less distant and more comfortable with each other. I honestly think that rapists and pedophiles are the reason for a social overreaction and move towards politically correct distance in the past few decades at least in America, and I don’t love it! I think comfort in your body and comfort in the bumping-into of other bodies is something very valuable. 

EATING

As all of anyone would expect, food has a different cultural standing here. It’s simply more important, for one. For lack of a better term, it’s more of a ‘thing.’ Most people leave work and school and head home for lunch everyday. Most businesses here close around the hours of 2:00 to 4:30 PM give or take. 

SCHOOL

I hate Italian school. Sorry Luca Guadagino! It is true. I hate it because it sucks. 

SMOKING

SMOKING THAT ITALIAN PACK…. Because half of them are gonna be dead 20 years early of lung cancer if I had to guess. Now I actually wouldn’t say that the smoking difference is completely because people smoke more here, part of it is the culture surrounding smoking is a lot different. I would say it feels less culturally taboo. I would say the distribution is similar to something of 

WORK

There is a very popular stereotype that Europeans– but especially Italians don’t work. This is a joke more than anything– there are plenty of folks here who work quite minimally, at least compared to what I’m used to with my own family. As mentioned, they usually come home for a chunk of about two or so hours in the middle of the day, and school finishes by 1PM in time for lunch. My host mom works for about three to four hours on either end. 

GOING OUT

For American teenagers, the idea of “going out” doesn’t quite exist. We hang out with friends, and have parties and dances and whatnot, but it is distinct to how Saturday nights function here in Italy. Despite my city having a population of about 100,000 in total, about 1/40th of Los Angeles (not including suburbs!) When I leave my apartment in the center of Lecce, the streets are completely filled for almost all of downtown, which stretches over a couple kilometers. Ive never seen the amount of people that go out like this in all my time in one of the largest cities in the world.

DRINKING

Now this stuff really depends on where and how you come from in the U.S. and same here in Italy, but in general day drinking is way more common. While there are weekend exceptions, in general and especially on a work day it’s not normal for people to drink with lunch in america. Perhaps it’s the fact that lunch is a the biggest meal of the day for Italians, but day drinking is much more common. 

Many think of Europeans as more tolerant with drinking in general, but I would say in the 21st century it really depends on the family. In mine, for example, my host sister is generally not allowed to drink in family situations. Other exchange students Ive talked to have reported the opposite.   with a lowered drinking age, it’s much more socially acceptable to see youngsters out drinking in public.

HOUSE STUFF

The Italian mothers deserve so much more than they get. All of them are essentially house wives but also work? The majority of them cook one or two full meals everyday, keep clean and orderly homes, and manage the majority of childcare, all while having a rather argumentative relationship with their kids, from what I’ve seen (and other exchange students). 

[xoashton]

Unapologetically Me

In the last year (From November 2021- until now) I have been through quite a lot. Maybe not a lot compared to others standards... but A LOT for me. 

Starting off, I was not fond of the idea of turning 30. I felt like I had accomplished absolutely nothing in my life. Unmarried. Still single. No kids. Still live at home. The only real thing that I feel I have done is graduate college. [Miami University, is still to this day one of my favorite places to be. Campus is my happy place. My home away from home.] I fell into a deep depression. 

Around this time, an unexpected person popped back into my life after 15 years. My middle school best friend. He and I always had a thing for each other, it just never worked out for us. One of us was always dating someone and we honestly didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship over it. He was going through a divorce, I was going through a deep, dark and scary time period, yet somehow we still couldn’t stay away from each other. Nothing ever happened physically, but emotional, we had formed a connection. I fell. Hard. Even against my better judgement. Neither one of us was in a good headspace. He walked away. It killed me, but now looking back on it, I know he did it to protect me. 

However, it sent my already fragile mental health into a tailspin. (and yes, I can hear the hate now, “never fall for a married man”, yes I know that, but against my better judgement it happened. Or “Never let a man bring you down like that” or “You’re a strong beautiful woman, I cannot believe you let someone do that to you.” Trust me, I know all of this) I was depressed. I was in a very low, low, and dark scary place. 

If it wasn’t for my bestfriend and God-given angel, I am sure I would still be sitting in that dark scary place. But she was there. Everyday. Somedays she would send me a different dad joke or funny meme every 20 minutes and some days she would literally come and lay on my floor with me all day. Saying nothing and just holding my hand. Then, it got to a point she started making me do things. She would randomly show up and make me shower and then whisk me off to a new book store. Or take me to lunch. Or just make me sit outside for half an hour. 

In April 2022, I started to feel myself come out of this foggy scary place. 

In June 2022, I lost my best friend. She passed away unexpectedly. 

I couldn’t function for an entire month. I am not saying I am functioning now, but I am getting better at pretending to be okay. Most mornings I still wake up and start crying because I instantly think of her. In the immortal words of Samantha Jones, “We made a deal ages ago. Men, Babies, It doesn’t matter. We’re Soulmates.” That was us. Her husband even nicknamed me, “Side Chick” because it was always us. 

I mourned. Now, I am trying to move on. 

Me sitting here in my dark and scary place, wallowing and not living life would PISS HER OFF! I can feel her spirit haunting me, mad about the way I am living (or in this case, not living) my life. She wouldn’t want this for me. 

This also feels like a good place to decide what I actually want. Not what other want for me. Not pieces I thought would be good for me back then, but aren’t actually serving me now. I have felt an entire shift in myself. Like the Taylor Swift song says, “The Old Taylor can’t come to the phone now. Why? Because she’s dead.” My soul feels like it has shed a skin, and it’s not the same anymore, it’s completely new. Completely renewed. 

I am so looking forward to finding out who this new me is, and this is where I am going to document that journey. Plus on my youtube channel.   

This is my journey forward. My refresh start.

[meowzfordayz]

tryin’ to put it into words

Author’s Note: my brain kept unraveling this one shot further and further… this is why we can’t have sleep nice things — we get carried away and then it’s 4am. 😂

tryin’ to put it into words

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~2,000

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Song Inspo: You Are in Love by Taylor Swift

Request Fulfilled: Hey there! I'm gonna take the liberty to request something about Rengoku 🌝💖 a fem!reader asking Kyojuro to help her about "how to kiss" (but that's an excuse), since she have a crush on him (since like a lot of years) and she's afraid of his reaction of hearing her confession, so she pretend she doesn't know kiss correctly. I imagine this idea in a alternative universe

~faqs~

9:47PM [y/n]: ‼️ URGENT ‼️

9:47PM [y/n]: URGENT as in WHERE TF ARE YOOUUU?

9:49PM [y/n]: I stg did you forget you have read receipts on? 

9:50PM [y/n]: Kyyyo… Ik you’re reading these

9:50PM [y/n]: oh ffs help me pls

9:50PM [y/n]: 😭

9:51PM Kyojuro: Hi [y/n]! 😁

9:51PM [y/n]: don’t give me that bs

9:53PM [y/n]: I have a proposition for you 😇

9:53PM Kyojuro: That emoji is typically not good news.

Kyojuro chuckles as his phone rings, leaning back in his swivel chair. Muted buttery light shines a halo onto his desk illuminating precise piles of neatly labeled folders, a shoddily crafted ceramic pencil holder, and his laptop with an open notebook beside it. Homework can wait.

“KYYYO,” his phone is already a safe distance from his ear — he knows how you get when he doesn’t pick up immediately. He does it on purpose

“Good evening [y/n]! How may I be of assistance?”

“Don’t greet me like a phone operator Kyo,” you huff.

“A phone operator wouldn’t know your name. Are you alright?”

He figures it pertains to homework, and braces himself to disappoint you. Since middle school, he’s finished assignments early so he can offer a helping hand when you inevitably call him freaking out the evening they’re due he slowly turned into a night owl for the same reason, but this specific assignment’s still troubling him. Also, the fact that he’s basically enabled your poor time management for years has NOT yet occurred to him. He’s an angel for goodness gracious.

“Yes!” you pause, “I mean- No! Well, like, yes. I’m fine. But no, I do need help.” Another pause. “Your, help.”

“Sadly, [y/n], I haven’t finished this week’s assignment,” he grimaces.

“Oh that’s okay I can totally help you with it! Actually though are you free tomorrow? I have some very interesting gossip regarding yours truly BUT I refuse to reveal anything unless you buy me bubble tea.”

He admires how freely you ramble talk. How you stumble and twirl around each word. Every inhale and exhale a choose-your-own-adventure with him simply along for the ride. You’re so lively and genuine! Even through the phone he can picture you pacing endearingly, wearing fuzzy socks and an old shirt of his, with at least two half full drinks forgotten on your bedside table.

“What shirt are you wearing tonight?”

“Okay ruuude Kyo. I asked my question before you. But whatever. I’m wearing that shirt you gave me back in the spring Kyojuro LOVES spring cleaning: out with the old, in with the new because it had that stain but it’s super cozy so I don’t know why you got so worked up over some soy sauce when it’s a very nice shirt otherwise.”

This is why you’re Kyojuro’s best friend. Nobody else could keep him on his toes in such an enjoyable, whirlwind manner.

“Do you wear it out in public?” “Uh,” you cluck your tongue in thought, “Nope.”

“Exactly! It is a very nice shirt otherwise, but I did not feel comfortable wearing it out in public, and now that it is in your possession, you also do not wear it out in public.”

“Are you implying a dare Kyo…”

“I am not!” he backtracks hurriedly, “I was only pointing out that while a stain may not retire a shirt completely, it was not unreasonable of me to give it up either!”

You snort, “Yeah, yeah. Now answer my question Mr. not-unreasonable-Rengoku-Kyojuro: are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am free, but do not care for your gossip?”

“Ah but you care about me, and the gossip happens to be about me!” you quip.

Who is he kidding? Kyojuro is definitely free tomorrow. And, you’re right. He cares about you.

“Are we meeting there, here, or at yours?”

“Can I bring the bubble tea to yours?”

“[y/n], as politely as possible: do not mess up my order again.”

He adores you. Sincerely. But, he does not handle mistakes regarding his bubble tea order particularly well. And you have erred previously.

“Text me it. I promise I’ll show it to the barista.”

Kyojuro takes a moment to consider his roommate. Uzui Tengen: man of many women. Surprisingly tidy, and frequently not on the premise due to aforementioned many women. Uzui has no qualms with you — Kyojuro wouldn’t be roommates with anyone who did.

“If you do not mind me doing homework, then I am available at anytime!”

He knows you won’t show up until at least noon: you’re a sleepyhead.

“Yay! Sleep tight. Cya tomorrow.”

Kyojuro shrugs in amusement as your Caller ID icon vanishes. You never give him a chance to say, “Sweet dreams, [y/n]!” back.

···

1:07PM [y/n]: hey hey you you

1:07PM [y/n]: I’m outside

1:07PM [y/n]: with bubble tea 

1:08PM [y/n]: let me iiin 🤬

You’re not a klutz. You swear. Which is why you do NOT drop the drink tray when you see Kyojuro but like, you very nearly did. You can tell he showered earlier: his hair’s especially fluffy in a freshly unkempt way, and the faint hint of sandalwood floating from his collarbones forces you to double check that you’re not melting into a gooey puddle.

“Why do you use essential oil?” you’d ask him in high school.

“Natural cosmetics feel better on my skin! And I imagine I am more pleasant to be around when I smell good!”

“What exactly am I smelling?”

“Sandalwood!” he’d held out his arm toward you.

You’d sniffed his wrist and blinked contentedly. And no, you had not bought a sandalwood candle shortly after. Self restraint who?

“I sent you a Venmo request,” you step into his apartment, kicking your shoes off.

“Paid! With an additional tip!”

He’s too kind. The amount he Venmos you, whether paying for his portion or both, could count as disposable income.

“Is Uzui home?” you peer around nonchalantly.

“He is with Makio! Or was it Suma? He may be with Hina, or was it-”

“So he isn’t home,” you poke Kyojuro fondly.

You head to his room, plop your bag onto his carpet, and put the drink tray on his desk.

“Can, we, uh… sit?”

That’s odd. You don’t normally pause between words — only sentences. Perhaps the gossip about you isn’t… good? He hates to think you’re here doing damage control. Worried now, he sits cross legged on his bed and motions for you to join him.

Ohmygosh.

You join him.

He has no idea you’re on the verge of bolting from his room. It’s not his fault! Not at all. It’s just. You’ve had this grand plan of a slow burn, romantic wooing for ages. In middle school, the concept of love was more so wow he’s cute! and I hope we’re partners for ballroom dancing; playing spin the bottle for feathery cheek kisses and nauseating butterflies. High school introduced when did he grow taller than me? and what if we don’t have any classes together and he forgets about me?; he didn’t forget about you though, and those butterflies persisted. College? Hah. College brought strangers’ mouths to yours: wet and enticing, but never his. Brought finally getting to wear his shirts (high school you was sooo excited), but only because he didn’t want them anymore (middle school you insisted it was better than nothing). Brought 3am conversations after too much homework and too much drinking. Cooking in his kitchen pretending to be lovers. Well. You indulged in pretend; you doubted he did. Stirred those butterflies into a naive, hopeful frenzy. And yet. You’d never consciously initiated your grand plan. Never snuck past that line of we’ve known each other too long and if he loved me, then he would’ve made it obvious… right?

“[y/n],” Kyojuro’s tone is soft. Overwhelmingly soft. “I trust you. You’re wonderful.”

W-what?

“Thanks buddy,” oof. How uncharming of you. Idiot. You look sharply down into your lap.

“Whatever I may hear, I will always ask for your side of the story.”

“Kyo?” you glance at him.

“[y/n],” his eyebrows scrunch, “What is your proposition?”

Gulp.

“So I know I probably seem forever-doomed-to-be-alone but I recently met this person and they’re very attractive like yeah their face and whatever but their personality too and I asked them out on a casual coffee date which was totally awesome of me, they said yes by the way, but now I’m scared that they’ll try to end the date with a kiss because I’m terrible kisser and what a horrible impression that would leave.”

How do they ramble talk so darn fast?! And when, why, how, what they’re going on a date?

Kyojuro maintains a careful gaze, consciously willing his hands to relax from their involuntary fists.

“I am confident you are an excellent kisser!”

You’re too nervous yourself to notice the lowness of his voice.

“Yeah but I well could you maybe wouldyouteachme Kyo?”

Even he couldn’t catch that.

“Could you repeat that [y/n]?”

“Wouldyouteachme?”

“Slower, [y/n].”

“Would. You. Teach. Me?”

Kyojuro chokes. Quietly. He hates denying you. It pains him when he can’t provide. When he can’t be, find, or create what you ask for. But this? This doesn’t pain him. Doesn’t feel challenging. Thrilling. Worth it. It just aches.

“Please don’t ask that of me.”

His whisper splinters you.

He never whispers.

And his rejection snaps you.

He hardly ever rejects you.

You stand abruptly. He doesn’t budge. Doesn’t acknowledge your movement. Well fuck me your eyes sting. Great job [y/n]! your eyes burn. What the hell did you do?

“That was inappropriate of me. Rengoku…”

His heart wobbles.

You never use Rengoku.

He’s Kyo.

Kyyyo.

He’s your Kyo.

“Why did you ask that of me?” his voice cracks.

“Rengoku. I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry. We’re best friends. And best friends don’t. Don’t do that. Or ask that. Of each other. I’m sorry.”

“If best friends don’t, then why did you?”

He isn’t angry.

You know his angry voice. You know all of his voices.

Except this voice.

You know all of his expressions.

Except this expression.

Somewhere, somehow. He’s, faded. The crisp, enthralling flicker of his stare dimmed to a distracted, disheveled fog. And his hands. Usually so steady. So firm. So reliable. Twitching. His back haunches with unsettling tension. Broad frame shrunken. You’d never seen him miserable. He’s sing-in-the-shower exuberant. Dance-in-the-rain passionate. Fall-in-love-a-first-sight magnetic. And never-gonna-give-you-up, never-gonna-let-you-down honest.

Realization hits you square in the jaw.

“I love you Kyo.” The tenderness that ripples through his body shatters the thread of familiar between you.

His hands, steady, firm, reliable are on you in an instant touching touching touching. Soothing your trembling wrists, tugging you closer by your elbows, cupping your cheeks gently gently gently. As his beautiful, desperate, fragile breaths caress your forehead, both eyelids, the tip of your runny nose. Your toes wiggle against his, your fingers digging into his hips, guiding the warmth of his chest to your exhilarated heart.

“I love you [y/n]!”.

The loudness of his affection reverberates in his tiny room. Sinks itself patiently, safely into your contagious smile.

“Your smile is my most precious memory!”

“Kyo,” you murmur, “How many memories of my smile do you have?”

“All of them!” he declares.

You giggle.

“Kyo,” he pulls back slightly, hands traveling from your cheeks to your ears. “Would you like to get coffee with me?”

His cheerful laughter reassures you as he teasingly pinches your earlobe, “Do I get to kiss you at the beginning or end?”

“Can I be greedy?”

“I suppose.”

“How about both?”

“What a fantastic choice!” he grins,  suddenly gripping your chin with tantalizing, delicate intent, “Kissing 101, lesson 1, are you ready?”

You squeak.

He tastes of lemongrass and sweetness, lips moist and plush. Of course, he isn’t overbearing. Listens to your sighs. Follows the tickle of your eyelashes. Makes sure to press deeply, heavily. And linger promisingly, lovingly. Even when your teeth accidentally clink. Even when your neck cramps. He’s perfect.

You are in love.

He is in love.​