#Sticky Note: Eden

[cokoweee]

I’m feeding my own brain. Guess what imma do next year is that..

[feinyan]

DATING HEADCANONS featuring. damon maitsu, kai monteago, wolfgang akire, desmond hall and mark berskii.

edens garden maxxing rn :] i enjoyed chapter one a lot, so i’ll be pumping out a bit more writing of them ^^; feel free to send in requests, (even if its for different medias) though i already have 3-4 drafts ill be dishing out eventually.

damon, who treats you like you’re a fragile little doll, prepared for you to break at any moment. hence, why he worries for you so much. though he attempts (and fails) to play it off as a casual concern. ‘are you hurt? bleeding?’ ‘what? no? i just tripped, damon.’ ‘are you sure? let me check just incase. come on, stop moving.’ damon, who always has a limb around you. his hands? wrapped around your waist, or intertwined within your own. his legs? always pressed up against yours. if you point it out, he gets flustered and denies it, pulling away. but you’ll still find his eyes constantly lingering on you, as if he hasn’t felt your contact in months and needed it desperately. damon, who is a tease, yet gets flustered just as easily. sarcastic, teasing remarks always escaping his lips, smirking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. though the minute you retort back with a comment of your own, he's completely quiet. blushing and muttering embarrassed insults under his breath. damon, who doesn’t quite understand standards when it comes to dating. holding a door open for you? walking close to the road? wearing a hair tie on his wrist incase you’d needed one? a foreign concept to him. but regardless, upon hearing things told to him by other people whilst rambling like kai, he tries his best to adapt to it. things that would normally be unusual for him, he attempts because he wants the best for you. damon, who is stingy and a bother about little trinkets you point out. ‘do you really need that?’ ‘that looks stupid.’ ‘its so small. why is it expensive?’ yet of course, they’d somehow end up within your residence. somehow. obviously, it were damon. damon, who spoils you with acts of services. openly doing things he’d refuse to or need convincing for from others, going out of his way to do things for you without being asked, etc. sure, maybe once in awhile he’ll knock on your head and call you an idiot for not being able to do something yourself, but it’s just teasing. he truly doesn’t mind providing for you, or helping you. anything that offers spending time with you is worth it for him.

kai, who couldn’t get enough of you. your touch, your attention, your words, you name it, he likes it. his hands are constantly all over you, any opportunity he’s given. he melts within your touch, in his most vulnerable state, unable to resist anything when it comes from you and your grasp. kai, who spoils you with anything he can offer — cute endearing nicknames, gifts he’d found that he thought you’d like, or even little snacks he thought looked silly that you two could try together. he loves to see your expression light up when he offers you some item he’d found that he thought you’d enjoy. even if you don’t end up liking it, the idea of him being reminded of you or thinking of you enough to make the purchase still leaves you feeling warm. kai, who whiningly calls you princess whenever he needs something from you. aside from his casual nicknames that he adores, like sweetheart or baby, whenever princess leaves his lips, you know he wants something from you. kai, who is admittedly quite insecure. he’s scared he’ll be abandoned by you, just like he’d been left by so many others who viewed him differently due to the persona he puts on online. but because of this, it just means he cherishes what you give him more than anything. he wants you to be able to touch those negative emotions inside of him, and see what really lies within his heart, not what he puts on the internet or around others.

wolfgang, who leaves encouraging little sticky notes around your desk when spending time away from you. reminders to take care of yourself, reminders that he loves you and wishes he were with you, etc. wolfgang, who gently takes care of you whenever given the opportunity. brushing your hair in the morning, making you coffee, assisting you in filling out paperwork, you name it. despite being such a busy man, he works hard to make sure he’s around for you. wolfgang, who despite appearing so cool headed, is such a jealous boy. the type to watch you talk to someone from behind and give them a disgustingly stern glare, but the moment you turn to face him, hes smiling sweetly in your direction. the type to wrap his arms around you and get all close and mushy in order to scare off someone else eyeing you. wolfgang, who invites you out on the sweetest dates ever. picnics under the warm, dimly lit night sky, only the stars witnessing the two of you giggling away and laying together. or, a romantic date at a a fancy restaurant, where the two of you dress elegantly, yet he can’t take his eyes off of you. his mind too caught onto the gorgeous attire tight against your body, too lost in how gorgeous you look whilst speaking to him. wolfgang, who spoils you with luxurious items. anything you want? you’ll get it. he doesn’t mind what you wear, whether or not you like cute or cheap things. what does matter though, is if you want something. and if you want something, you’ll get it.

desmond, who is so smooth with his words, you could die. the way he speaks to you in such a soft and caring tone. the way he goes along willingly with whatever you say, because admittedly, what makes you happy makes him happy. the way he speaks about you in such an endearing way to others. others may be embarrassed when speaking of or sharing about someone they love, but desmond expresses the way he feels for you without hesitation. desmond, who teaches you little quirks about his ultimate. little things that could be useful for protecting you, or just things he finds neat and wants to share with you. desmond, who is perfect for a clumsy you. about to trip? hes already grabbed you, hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back up onto your feet. about to spill something? hes grabbed the glass, preventing it. his quick reflexes are almost scary.

mark, who loves to kiss a certain part of you. your hands, your nose, silly yet specific places which just make him feel warm. mark, who gets embarrassed about the way he thinks about you. who will be listening to you rambling like usual, yet turn his head out of no where, muttering to himself like a flustered mess. mark, who has an attitude which is no joke. it doesn’t come off as a surprise, but the way he rolls his eyes and grumbles makes it much easier to decipher when he’s displeased or irritated. but to him, you’re a soft spot which can always manage to cheer him up. your silence yet presence close to his serves as a type of battery for him. mark, who is constantly sharing songs that he likes to you. new songs hes found that remind him of you, a song hes been listening to a lot recently, or even just songs hes worked on. he wants you to enjoy what he does.

@ feinyan

[thyln4gf]

Cheri cheri lady

✞ Watching you on the top step of the podium for the first time, while still in your rookie year... It all tasted a little bitter for Lando, but he wasnt complaining too much... he did get the best view out of them all - right from p2.

✞ Word count - 808

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that I associate with this fic - "american jesus" - Nessa Barrett, "heavy metal lover" - Lady Gaga, "flawless" - The Neighbourhood, "take me back to eden" - Sleep Token, "hall of fame" - The Script. Note - i do have a whole playlist. Ask if you want it.

✞ Warnings - none, I guess. A lot of fluffy shite. Slightly suggestive. A short little blurb inspired by Landos first win<3 Gg, my boy.

✞ Lando Norris x Mercedes!Reader

The sound of a crowd yelling someone elses name annoyed him till no end - it reminded him of the fact that he hasnt won yet, and that hes currently holding a pretty sad record - the highest number of podiums without a win. That, until it came to you - it immediately became something that he wanted to hear over and over. It was almost as sweet as the champagne swirling down his body, the sun kissing his face, or the sweet, sweet sound of an anthem that wasnt the dutch one.

It all started at the beginning of the season, really. He was intimidated by you at first, just a little - for the first quali of the season, your rookie season, you had already grabbed the pole. But, quickly enough, he found himself getting more and more curious about you. He would ask you about the weather, or about the ridiculous activities the media admins made you do - to "see if it matched his". It was far from enough for him though - he wanted to know everything about you. How do you like your waffles? He wanted to ask you about that. He wanted to ask you about breakfast and honey. Sunlight. Do you like strawberry smoothies? What was the name of your childhood cat? Do you have any scars?

There were so many things he wanted to say, but didnt know how to. Thats why he spent quite a bit of his time quietly observing you. He felt as if you were just a mere result of his imagination - one touch, just one taste - and youd disappear.

His newly found obsession, however, was watching the wide grin fighting for its place on your face. You were stood on that step, taking up the space that you deserved oh so much. He was a little jealous of the success that you found yourself in so soon, but he couldnt peel his eyes away from you - the way you were stood there, proud. The golden hour danced on your face, making the sweat drenched features pop out. Just like him, the sun seemed to enjoy your eyes - they looked like the shiniest gems you could find.

The champagne celebration rolled around. He was already giggling, looking forward to absolutely drowning you in the sticky, sweet, liquid luck. He looked at Daniel on the other side, the English anthem for Mercedes coming to an end. They both wiggled their eyebrows at each other, seemingly getting the exact same idea, and locking it in.

They could have planned all they wanted, honestly - but you were just quicker. You jumped off the step quickly, it almost looked like you were flying. To Landos surprise, you didnt go for your usual move. Instead, you seemed to use his - the famous champagne floor smash. He was so pleasantly surprised that he didnt even register a stream of the beverage aimed right into the centre of his face. Wiping the champagne from his eyes, he saw your wide grin - and Daniel getting the back of your head. You shrieked - and it wasnt from the surprise, he knew. You washed your hair just this morning.

As much as he would have wanted that scene to last forever... Like all good things, it quickly came to an end. But that meant that he got to stand by your side for the photo - and it made him nervous, almost like a young, teenage boy, whos crush went to the same school.

He was nervous. Oh, so nervous. He was a little scared of messing something up, taking great measures to avoid exactly that. He did end up on the wrong side of the step, somehow. He didnt even notice, but thats until he felt your hands on his waist, gently gripping onto the material of his suit.

"Youre in the wrong spot, darling." You had murmured into his ear, gently guiding him to where you wanted him. A smirk was so evident in your tone, even if he wasnt looking at your face.

The hands.

The. Gentle. Fucking. Hands.

His stomach quickly got filled with a ton of butterflies, his brain shortcircuiting. He would have frozen in the spot, if the circumstances had allowed him. And he did, at first - was given a slap to the back of his head by Daniel quickly enough to not be noticed, though. Or, thats what he thought - people were talking about it already, and it would continue for days. If not weeks. And not even the fact that you just casually moved him, just like that. Not the placement of your hands - but the fact that he could be seen blushing, all shy, like a little girl.

Despite it not being his victory, it was his favourite podium of all time already. But, who knew. Maybe the next one was gonna be his?

[daughterofcain-67]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐭.2

CEO Jensen x Plus Size Female Reader

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Monday has finally arrived and things are certainly smoother than expected. Jensen is certainly showing you a side you didn’t expect and it turns out that your roommate has a few surprises waiting for you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nothing that I can think of?

The weekend had been filled with nothing but a Smallville marathon with your roommate. A part of you wondered if Rhema was more excited about your new employer than you were. Well actually, there wasn't a doubt in your mind about that. It was obvious when she nearly blew up your phone with different articles about Mr. Ackles buying the previous company just to expand his own casting company.

In a way, Friday had felt like a fever dream.

Still, you wondered why on Earth he left acting just to go into a business like this. Being a celebrity seemed like it would be such a better option. He wouldn't have to worry about any of the stresses of keeping a business alive, but here he was in the metal casting industry. It was definitely a 180 from acting.

Now that Monday had arrived though, you had to get back to reality. This Jensen guy was like the boss of everything, so if you could just stay off his grid and below the radar then maybe you'd survive the week while the company makes their adjustments to everything.

Once you made it to your cubicle you set your computer bag down on your desk and placed your coffee beside the monitor only to notice there was a little sticky note in front of your keyboard.

You took your seat in the little swivel chair and picked up the note to read what it said.

Apparently it was just a note from the IT guy giving you the new temporary passwords to your computer and other accounts for work since they had to reset a number of programs over the weekend as you'd predicted. You placed the sticky note elsewhere for the time being before you grabbed the supplies you needed to start the day.

After you pulled out your laptop and plugged it into the office system you logged into everything using the new password from the note and thus, your day began.

Your email had changed to your first initial and your last name @newedencasting.com, that would surely take some getting used to when you were handling phone calls. Although New Eden Metal Casting would just be an umbrella for the other casting departments that were under the previous owner - at least that was what you were assuming at this point in time until further notice.

In your email, there had some video tutorials sent to you for how to use the new programs the office was required to use now and once you watched them and started to get a hang of everything, you were finally able to start your work. Each new order, product question, or order status request was assigned as a case through this new program and you started getting to work, luckily your screen wasn't too bad for the time being.

While you were focused on work, your phone was sitting on the night stand and the screen started lighting up with message notifications from Rhema. You tapped on the screen to see some of the previews of the messages and you weren't really surprised at some of them.

RS: Is he there yet?

RS: What's he wearing?

RS: Send me a picture! I wanna see! I bet he's even more beautiful in person!

Then you noticed she sent a GIF with an animated character that had heart shapes for eyes, which caused you to chuckle, though you picked up the phone and started to message back.

YN: I can't just take a picture without his consent. That would be both rude and unprofessional. Plus I don't really want to interact with him and be tense at my own job.

Shortly after that there was another reply.

RS: Fineeeee, I guess I'll have to just take to Google or Pinterest.

You couldn't help but to roll your eyes a little before you placed your phone on the stand once more and resumed your work. Then you started hearing some footsteps. A couple of sets of them rather than one and you heard some voices.

"When was the last times those machines have been replaced? Some of them look old." You recognized Jensen's voice now that you've binged some of his previous work.

"They've been here for about as long as I've been here. So I'd say maybe fifteen years or so. We get them inspected every year to see of they have any faults and repair accordingly but I'm not sure we've ever had them replaced." You didn't recognize the other voice but you were positive it was one of the managers in the manufacturing and production department.

You supposed Jensen wasn't going to waste any time in making changes, but if it's been a long time since the machines have been replaced, maybe it was time to make some changes, not that you really paid much attention. Although, now that you've thought about it, Some of your emails last week did have to deal with some product returns because of manufacturing errors.

As you clicked on one of the cases and began to read the email you could still hear Jensen and the other individual discussing the machines before they stepped into the office right beside your cubicle and one of them shut the door. You had almost forgotten Jensen was practically right beside you for the next five days.

As you handled more emails and closed more cases whenever they showed up on the screen, you realized that there was an email that required you to actually go and talk to the engineering department. So, you printed off a sheet that was in the email and went to the printer that was conveniently by the engineer in your department.

Once you made it to his office, you knocked on the door before calling out: "Dylan?"

Once Dylan heard his name he turned around in his chair and looked over at you, "Whatcha got?"

You smiled a little. Dylan was probably one of the nicer guys there, despite his reputation for being a little rough around the edges. When you first started working he did intimidate you but once you started learning from him, you discovered he really wasn't that bad of a guy. He was one of those hard-to-read people that doesn't tolerate a whole bunch of nonsense, but Natalie said he liked you so that was enough for you to not feel s stressed anytime you needed to ask him a question.

"I've got this rep that has a customer in the paper industry wanting to order a few gears but they go beyond the biggest size we've got. Do you know if there's gonna be some new molds coming in with gears that have a bigger circumference than we've got now?" You asked and you handed him the paper that has the blueprints from that email.

Dylan took the pages from you and looked over the part they were needing before he went to the New Eden website, which you were stunned they changed it that quickly but it looked to have the other business branches still in tact including yours. You watched as Dylan typed the gear model into the search bar and started looking into alternative options.

"I haven't heard anything about getting new molds anytime soon so for now they're gonna need to contact one of the other departments that will have a gear in the size they need. Forward that email to me and I'll do some digging to get them to the right part they need." He answered as he handed the page back to you.

"Thanks!" You grinned and he nodded a little in his typical stoic way before he went back to checking his other emails, so you left his office.

As you started walking you couldn't help but hear some of the other Customer Service members talking.

"Did you see the way he was dressed? I didn't think he'd be that casual after his first impression on Friday." One of them said but you couldn't pinpoint who it was. But you knew they were talking about Jensen.

"He seems friendly though, still want to know why he's spending an entire week here. As a CEO you'd think he'd have other people come by and just observe the place and then email him about what they think of the place. Still makes it tense just the fact that he's here." Well, you supposed it was good to know you weren't the only one nervous about working with him here.

"Well at least it's only for a week and then everything can just go back to normal." A third person said and you shrugged a little to yourself before you started making your way back to your little cubicle.

That was when an office door opened and both Jensen and the man he was talking to earlier stepped out. You nearly froze in your tracks since you didn't want to bump into either of them and sure enough, you saw the more casual way Jensen was dressed with the black long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. Maybe he was going to make some frequent visits to the shop floor. You supposed you could understand not wanting to get nicer clothes dirty if he was spending his time in the manufacturing area.

When the other guy left, you had assumed Jensen would follow him out of the office area but instead he stayed but before returning to his office, he turned and he caught a glimpse of you. He gave a little grin and slight wave, which you returned with a little wave back before he went to his office and shut the door again. You assumed it was for some kind of virtual meeting.

"That was awkward..." You muttered under your breath before you walked to your desk so you could forward that email to Dylan.

Jensen had just finished his third meeting of the day and he knew the company would need to buy new machines so they wouldn't have faulty parts returned to them. As soon as he found out there had been more product returns last year bleeding into this year he knew he'd have to find a way to fix that as soon as possible, and when he walked onto the shop floor that morning he noticed there were more waste with the wax parts within the first part of the casting process and that had to've been part of the reason for delayed shipment. So one of the first machines Jensen wanted to get taken care of were the was presses.

By the time noon finally came around Jensen remembered he'd told Hyden to order lunch for everyone before they'd clock out for their breaks. So he walked out of his office and realized the workers had gotten their lunches from wherever Hayden ordered from and Jensen decided to walk around, stretch his legs after those meetings.

He didn't get very far though since he saw you at your cubicle. You seemed so zoned-in with your work. If a fire alarm were to go off he wondered if you'd even pay it any attention. Then when he thought about it, he didn't think he'd heard you really speak much that morning unless you were on the phone.

Jensen walked up to your cubicle and observed the way you were typing away like there wasn't any tomorrow. He raised a brow before he cleared his throat a little before speaking.

"Y/N, right?"

He could tell you were a little thrown off since your typing had faltered.

"Yes Sir." You'd answered and wrapped up the email and sent it off before you turned in your chair and looked up at him.

"Is there.. something I can help you with?" Jensen sensed the awkwardness in your tone and he chuckled a little.

"First off you can relax. And quit with the 'Sir' stuff. Making me feel like I'm in my eighties or something." Then he noticed you break your poker face and a smile tugged at your lips even if it was subtle.

"Just wanted to see if the new program was giving you guys any problems. I know a lot of changes were made over the weekend and wanted to know how the CSR department was adjusting."

You nodded a little as he spoke and you tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear since it must've strayed from the bun you were wearing.

"So far it's not too much of an adjustment on my end. It's similar to the program we used before but the tutorial videos that were sent this morning did help a lot." You answered and Jensen nodded a little. That had to be the most he'd ever heard you speak before, then again he hadn't been there that long.

Jensen wasn't quite sure what to make of you. You seemed to have a lot of indifference and from the looks of it, you spoke only when you were spoken to.

He glanced around your cubicle and started to observe.

"How long have you been working here?" He asked curiously and you paused as if you were trying to think about it.

"December 2nd would make four years." You replied.

"So when do you plan on moving into this place?" He recalled how plain looking it was when he peeked in your space Friday.

This question seemed to catch you by surprise and Jensen saw you look around your little area then he noticed the way you rubbed the back of your neck.

"Not sure. I guess I haven't really thought about personalizing this place. I'm sort of plain in that sense I guess." Jensen managed to get a chuckle out of you while you responded and he smiled a little.

“Well… think about it a little more. A plant could brighten this place up a bit, plus it’s supposed to help produce oxygen and everything.” Jensen said and he heard you chuckle a little.

“I’ll give it some thought.”

“Good… I’ll let you get back to it. If you need anything… you know where I’ll be.” Jensen insisted, gesturing to his temporary office before walking away from your spot and onto his next destination.

Eventually he came across Natalie's office, recalling she was the CSR lead. He may have to pocket that information for later. Who knew when he'd her. After roaming around the office and conversing with some of the other office workers, Jensen found himself out on the shop floor where everything would be manufactured.

Jensen was lucky that he remembered his safety glasses were dangling from the collar of his shirt so he put them on as he continued to walk around. All around him, he heard machines grinding and almost groaning with each step of the process of work being done.

He watched as one of the workers walked from their wax press and went over to some large metal box. When the door opened, Jensen saw the man reaching into the box and he pulled our a large, cylindrical tube that seemed to be filled with already melted wax before walking over to an older looking press. It seemed so outdated and old, making the process so much slower but on the flipped side, it sort of made Jensen nostalgic because this was the exact kind of machine he used when he first started in the casting industry as part of the manufacturing team.

Jensen remembered having to reach into some large, rectangular heated box that had similar cylindrical tubes filled with already melted wax. Jensen also remembered how he burned his hands the first couple of times because he didn't know what he was doing during the training process. Obviously it got better with time and he found out ways to install the tube into the press without burning himself.

Jensen also remembered the countless hours he spent at the press making all sorts of parts and making sure the wax parts came out just right. There was no room for error unless he wanted the metal piece to turn out terrible looking at the end of the casting process. There were so many times he had to make sure the wax was cooled off just right to handle in order to clean off the edges, but not so cold that it would easily break in his hands. It was sort of tough to learn the right techniques at fist but Jensen was glad he got the experience.

But that was all back in 2007 or so, the mid 2000s after he stopped acting and right before he went to school for business. So yeah, that machine was definitely outdated and he noticed there were two others in the factory that needed to be changed out for newer machines. One of the meetings this morning pretty much made that official and now it's a matter of finding a good deal on a few of the machines and how fast they'd be able to get them here.

Eventually, Jensen made it to the quality department and saw the quality team inspecting some of the items before they'd go off to shipping.

"How's everything looking?" Jensen asked one of them and she looked up.

This girl had bright red hair and freckles across her face, bold green eyes behind the safety glasses. When Hayden was introducing Jensen to everyone on Friday, this girl had introduced herself as Amber.

"So far everything's looking good. Had a couple of returns but the items were able to go to stock and we can resell those items. But there were a couple of other orders that were supposed to be replacement orders and some of the parts were iffy at best." She explained with a shrug before going to one of the boxes she had inspected before pulling out one of the items.

"From the looks of it, the wax process was the problem and whoever approved the parts to go to through the rest of the casting process seriously slacked off. Whoever was at press three didn't wait long enough for the was to cool down so in these metal fittings there are a couple of dents and imperfections." She explained as she handed the part to Jensen to inspect for himself.

Jensen took the part and looked at the piece, noticing what went wrong. Inside the opening of the fitting he could see there were some problems and on the outside there were little dents that looked kind of like fingerprints from where someone was having trouble getting the fitting out of the mold during the wax process.

"We're looking into getting new machines soon so this doesn't happen. Looks like some of the machines can't cool the wax fast enough. Plus whoever was on the inspection side needs to be trained better and know it's things like this to watch out for so they could have the wax station redo those parts. You said press three?" Jensen question and he got a nod from Amber.

Jensen recalled walking by that machine and it was another old one they'd be replacing at some point, preferably sooner rather than later depending on how fast they'd be able to find the right that's close by.

Just before Jensen was about to say something to Amber, his phone started to ring. So he handed the fitting back over to Amber to put back in that returned order pile before answering and started walking back towards the main office area.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Ackles, we found a company that can make sure we can get at least one new press here in about three weeks. But the other two you want to replace would be about a month and a half away." Hayden said from the other line.

"What are they asking for those machines?" Jensen asked and when Hayden told them the price they were looking for, Jensen thought about it.

"Send the company's info to me via email but let's do a little mor price checking. It doesn't have to be a local company. It does sound like a good deal to keep in mind though." Jensen said before concluding the phone call and hung up the phone. Then a few minutes later his phone lit up again with an email with the company's information from Hayden.

"Definitely a start." Jensen muttered to himself as he used his badge and pressed it against the black scanner next to the corridor leading to the main office area before entering.

Another day was finally over, but you had to admit it was a much better start to the week than you were expecting. And it was a lot better then the previous week for sure despite having to learn new programs and make sure the reps were sending their orders to the correct emails.

As you were packing up your belongings you couldn't help but hear some of the other CSR ladies talking as they were packing their things and clocking out for the day.

"He's a lot more relaxed than I thought he would be. For sure means business with the changes in the factory floor though. Those new machines will help the department a lot." One of the ladies spoke.

"Still, don't you think he's too pretty of a guy to be in this kind of business? My sister did some looking on the internet and found out he was an actor in the 90s and early 2000s. He was dreamy for sure, he should've stuck with that!" Another lady said.

You were sure a certain roommate of yours would say the same thing.

As you were walking towards the door, the ladies whom those voices belonged to were behind you and before you knew it they addressed you as well.

"Y/N, what do you think of Mr. Ackles?"

All you could really do was shrug. Frankly what happened that afternoon around lunch was the most you got out of Jensen and you were shocked that he even came to talk to you after you aimed to stay under his radar. Then again you initially failed to account for the fact that his office was practically next to your own.

"Oh come on, you have to have some kind of opinion about him, more than just a shrug at least!"

You thought about it and pursed your lips while you opened the door and the three of you started walking outside to your cars.

"I don't know really. I mean he's trying to be approachable which I think is important. Better than flaunting your authority and intimidating people on purpose." You finally replied.

“That’s a suck up’s answer. What do you really think of him. Like if he wasn’t like everybody’s boss, what do you think?”

You tried to think, really think about it. Even you had to admit he was attractive when he was younger. Sure he was definitely something to look at even now you supposed. What else would they want you to say?

“He’s… cute I guess? I really don’t know what to tell you other than he’d be just another guy outside of work.” You said and the other girls just snickered at you.

“You wouldn’t try hitting on him or anything like that if he were just another guy and you both just happened to be at a bar?” One of them asked, causing you to get a little flustered.

“Probably not.” You chuckled nervously, putting your hands in the pockets of your cardigan. It was an honest answer though; you weren’t exactly the one that would make the first move in public. Or in any situation for that matter if you were completely honest with yourself.

“Anyways… I’d better go. See you both tomorrow.” You rushed to your car before they could ask you anymore questions about the CEO. You were just ready to go home and maybe make some tea.

Once you finally made it home, you took your shoes off and hung your keys on the little key rack that was beside the door.

“Finally! You made it back! I thought you’d never get here! I got you a little surprise.” Rhema exclaimed with so much excitement in her eyes, you had to admit the suddenness took you by surprise.

“Um… a surprise? Did I miss something?” You asked and she giggled at you.

The next thing you knew, Rhema was walking out of her bedroom with a box in her hand and there was a corner of a blanket draped on the outside of it.

“No. But I figured sometimes you may need a little company on weekends where you want to stay here and when I’m covering shifts at work.” Your roommate explained, causing you to grow a little skeptical as she walked over with the box.

“Well? Take a peek!” She giggled and that was when you heard a little noise, almost like a whine or a high pitched squeak. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the description of the sound. But it certainly caught your interest and you slowly peered into the box.

When you looked inside you saw a small, short haired, blue eyed, calico kitten that couldn’t be bigger than your own hand. You could feel your heart soften at the sight of the little creature looking around the small surroundings of the box before it looked up at you. You couldn’t help but break out into a smile when it started to make that noise again before you reached into the box to pick up the kitten.

“Oh my gosh, Rhema!” You said, stunned that there was even a kitten in the house. You weren’t expecting to come home to something like this. The kitten continued to let out those little noises as you held it in your hands.

“You need to work on your little meow. Otherwise you’ll be stuck sounding like a squeaky toy.” You said and Rhema giggled.

“Do you like her?” Rhema inquired and you looked up at your friend who seemed so eager to keep her.

“I do. She’s precious. Thank you.” You smiled and she set the box down and you gave her a little side hug since your other hand was occupied with this kitten.

“Oh I hoped you would! The landlord is already okay with us having her, the pet fee has already been taken care of. All that you need to worry about now is giving her a name.” Rhema continued as she let go of the hug.

“Sounds like you had this all planned out, huh?” You chuckled and took a seat on the couch. When you did, the little kitten started climbing up one of the sleeves of your cardigan. You snickered a little before you pried the little creature from your sleeve and set it down in your lap.

“Well… I wanted to get her for you last week since it sounded awful but I couldn’t do that. But I was able to stop by the pet store again today and lucky for us she was still there so I picked her up and brought her here!” Rhema admitted and sat down next to you, then she reached over and used her first two fingers to rub the top of the kitten’s head.

“Now all that’s left to think about now is what you’ll name her.” Rhema spoke.

You looked down at the little creature in your lap that was circling around before laying down like a little cinnamon roll. Your head tilted a little to the side as you started to pet the little kitten, slightly surprised that it seemed to be getting used to you already. After all it wasn’t like you were some sort of Disney Princess or whatever that had animal powers.

“I may have to do some thinking about that.” You admitted and you could hear the kitten purring, causing you to grin to yourself.

“I gotcha. Maybe sleep on it tonight. But don’t take too long! We can’t call it cat forever.” Rhema snickered and you grinned, nodding in agreement as you continued to pet the new little addition to the apartment.

“So… how did things go today? Still rough from last week?” Your roommate asked, so you began to list off some of the things that happened that day.

You told her about how it was a little easier than last week, how some things needed a little adjustment with everything as far as the new systems, rumors of new machines, more rumors of new vendors to sell the product for the different brands under New Eden. Then you proceeded to tell her about how Jensen actually came and talked to you a bit and even suggested to decorate your cubicle area. You still weren’t sure if you would do that or not. Then you told her about the questions your coworkers were asking you and you finally went home.

“Wait, why wouldn’t you ask him out if you didn’t work together?” Rhema asked, although you doubted that was the only question on your mind.

“That’s what you got out of that? I’m just not that kind of person and you know that. Plus I wouldn’t have been in the bar in the first place so that scenario wouldn’t have even made sense for me.” You said and Rhema scoffed a little before she rolled her eyes.

“So, you gonna decorate after all and make it more your own? I’ve been suggesting you do that for years - ever since you first started pretty much.” Your roommate said and leaned back into the couch before she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

“I’m not sure… wouldn’t it seem unprofessional?” You asked while Rhema turned on Smallville, returning to your binge watching since you two didn’t complete the series over the weekend.

“You’re kidding, right? The CEO even said you needed to liven the place up. No, it’s not unprofessional. Tons of people do a little decorating in their desk area. This weekend we’ll go to the store and get you some plants or something. Maybe we’ll get you some little lights to hang around the border of your cubicle.”

Smallville’s theme started playing through the speakers and you had to admit you found some moments throughout the day where that would be in your head for a while before a phone call would interrupt your thoughts. You did start to like Jensen’s character though since you and Rhema just got to the first few episodes he was in.

“As long as you don’t send me to work with pictures of Jensen to hang on my walls from his acting days, I think we’ll be good.” You laughed and Rhema giggled too.

“No but you and your coworkers should take some of those pictures and print out tiny copies to hide throughout the office for him to find. He sounds light-hearted enough to get a kick out of a little prank like that.”

“I’m sure some of them may have thought about that already. It’s just a matter of if they can print out those pictures without getting caught. Unless they have their own personal printers at home and they can print them there.”

“I really hope they do! You should suggest it to them! Gives you some sort of thing to talk with them about too!” You smiled a little.

“Yeah I suppose.” You said, still a little unsure of whether or not that would happen, and you felt the little calico kitten squirming a little in your lap, causing you to look down at her.

“I really should come up with a name for you.” You admitted.

“By the way… How do you feel about blind dates?” Rhema asked sort of out of the blue, causing you to glance over at her.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t arrange anything did you?” You questioned.

“No no, I didn’t arrange anything yet. But…. I have this coworker that has a brother as well as a friend. They are both single and supposedly cute but I’ve never seen pictures of either of them. It’s just an idea my coworker had and I told her that I had a roommate that’s single too and maybe it could be some kind of double-blind date.” Rhema said and you lifted about brow.

“Uh, no. I bet this is the real reason why she brought you home, Little Critter.” You looked down at the kitten who let out a little squeaky sound in response.

“It’s not! Can you at least think about it? I mean if not I’ll still go on the blind date but I just thought this could be something we could do together.” Rhema spoke and you looked back at Rhema, then over to the television screen.

Several thoughts were going through your mind. A blind date? Really? What if something didn’t work out? What if something went wrong and you made a fool of yourself?

“Rhema… I really don’t know…”

Rhema pouted a little before she poked at your shoulder, “Hey… if a date seems a little intimidating for you… then we don’t have to call it that. Maybe consider it like you’re going as my moral support? A chaperone even? I mean… a blind date is a scary idea for me too. I’m used to at least knowing the guy before agreeing to go out with them. I wouldn’t know if this guys is some kind of creep and if he is, I don’t exactly wanna be by myself for that.”

“Well… when you put it that way…” You trailed off as you looked at the kitten again.

“It’s not like it’s supposed to happen tomorrow, right now it’s nothing but an idea.” She told you and you nodded a little. You could tell she was trying to put your mind at ease, which you were thankful for.

“I’ll think about it. After all, I can’t hand my roommate over to a couple of kidnappers, can I?” You joked and Rhema broke out into a smile before she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and hugged you.

“Great! Let me know what you think by Wednesday. Maybe we can go out Friday night if nothing else.” Rhema insisted and you smiled a little.

“Wednesday… got it.”

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @suckitands33 @muhahaha303 @winchesterwild78 @ladysparkles78 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @bobbdylan @n-o-p-e-never

[softmangoes]

cabin fever | eden x defiant!pc

18+ only

summary: you finally slip free from your leash. eden finds you not long after.

includes: defiant!fem pc, captive to lovers, violence, animal death, pov switches, blood, first-aid, a very touch-starved eden

author's note: this is my very first DOL fic and of course it had to include my favorite forest husband. this was so fun to write, so please let me know what you think! 🧡

-

the large man pushes you back into the cabin before he falls to the floor with a dull thud. his hunting jacket is dark with blood flowing from an angry gash in his shoulder. you watch him, your knees stinging from scraping against the wooden planks, but he does not get back up.

behind the strands of his dirt-caked hair, you see one of his eyes trained on you.

"is this what you wanted?" he says, voice strained. "to run away?"

a part of you still wants to. with him in this vulnerable state, you're pretty sure you can.

ever since he had first dragged you into the cabin, you had spent hours weakening the leash with a flint arrowhead you managed to find near your post. finally, after days of being fucked against your will, you managed to slip free out of the cabin and into the woods.

it had not taken him long to notice you were gone. in your desperation, you did not think things through. he was a hunter, after all. of course he would find you.

and when he did, he had yanked you from the forest floor, kicking and screaming, gripping you so tightly that your shirt had ripped and your skin became bruised with his fingertips.

and now he's here in front of you, half conscious. you look at him, panting softly and bleeding out onto the floor. despite the pain he must be in, he's still staring at you.

"get away from her," he had growled to the onslaught of snapping teeth. "she's mine."

you had watched the wolf lunge onto him, sinking its teeth into his skin. in the scuffle, he had lost his grip on his rifle. you picked it up, the metal cold in your hands, before training its sight at the writhing struggle between beast and man.

in that moment, you could have ended it all. but before you could pull the trigger, you heard a sudden snap of bone. the great wolf went limp, its last breath a pained whine. with a huff, eden pushed its body off of him and took you by the collar.

"you had your chance," he said, voice hollow. "but i won't die that easily."

right now, you could get up. he could watch you leave. in his current state, it would be impossible for him to follow you.

a part of you wants to hate him, but there's something in the way he looks at you - like he's afraid, ashamed even - that makes you get on your knees and crawl to him.

"what...?" he manages.

"don't make me regret this," you say before tearing off a piece of your shirt and pressing it to the wound.

he does not cry out. blood, warm and red, wets your fingers but you do not stop. you feel his hand wrap around your wrist and for a second, you think he's going to snap it just like he did with the wolf's neck, but he just keeps it there. his palm is rough with calluses, his knuckles silvery with scars. you keep the pressure steady all while he watches you silently.

once the bleeding has stopped, you wipe your hands on your shorts and go to the kitchen to retrieve a jar of poultice and a jug of water. on the first night you spent in the cabin, you remember that he had applied some of it to cuts you sustained during your time in the forest. they had healed quickly after that.

gingerly, you unbutton his shirt to expose the wound. seeing him bare isn't anything new to you, but this was different.

"an hour ago, you wanted to kill me," he says. it's a statement, but also a question. you don't give him an answer.

his chest is sticky with drying blood, but you manage to peel away most of his shirt from the gash. he winces as you do this, grunting softly under his breath.

at the orphanage, you would bandage the little ones whenever they came crying to you with cuts and bruises. one time, robin had slipped into your room, tears in his eyes, as he held up an arm marred by a deep cut from biking too fast down a hill.

all of them had hissed in pain from your ministrations while trying to heal their affliction, but not eden. he was silent, giving you nothing else more than breathy huffs.

you wash the wound with water, watching as dirt and debris flow away. once it's clean, you apply the poultice, tearing off another strip of your shirt to wrap it around the torn flesh.

there is no fear you sense from him, no anxiety at this angry wound - only a weary resignation. it's an exhaustion that you can't help but find familiar.

--

eden was not afraid of death, but he had a hard time trying to figure out why he was still alive.

hours later, as the dawn light filtered through the window, he felt rather than saw your attempt at giving him first-aid.

it was shoddy work, but satisfactory: the result of the exhausted desperation he saw in your eyes as you worked to patch him up for reasons he could not understand.

but why?

at this point, the pain had significantly lessened due to the poultice and he could finally gather his thoughts. eden expected that your kindness would end at the last knot tied for his dressing. if there had been any moment you could have chosen to fled, last night would have been perfect.

instead, he was surprised to see your sleeping form curled up in front of the fireplace. something like relief made him relax at the sight of you, dirty but uninjured. but there. still there.

--

"you didn't leave," he says, his eyes still closed.

you blow into the wooden cup, sending curls of steam into the air. it's a simple broth you made with mushrooms from the barrel, herbs from the garden, and leftover rabbit bones and gristle leftover from a previous meal - nothing special, but nourishing enough.

"open your mouth," you instruct, bringing a spoonful of the hot soup to his lips.

earlier, you had somehow managed to prop him up with some cushions without disturbing himself and his injury. it had been a challenge - the man was so huge - but whatever was in the poultice must have kept him asleep.

he opens his mouth and lets you feed him, groaning in satisfaction as he swallows. a lock of his hair falls over his face, so you push it away and let your hand rest on his jaw to ready him for another serving. the pad of your thumb presses against a slash of soft scar tissue.

"are you okay?" you ask when his breath hitches.

eden's eyes open. they bore into you, wary. you can feel them shift from your face to your bare skin. the events of last night had ruined your shirt, so you were only in a pair of shorts and a sports bra.

"i'm fine." he licks his lips. his gaze falls on the old scar sliced across your neck, a memento from bailey. it's something the hunter would stare at often whenever he would take you. "just give me more."

hours later, you're still not sure why you're keeping him alive. perhaps you felt sorry for him, a man all alone in the wilderness. perhaps it was because if you left, there was hardly any life for you to go back to. at this point, you were definitely behind on your weekly payments, and bailey would not let that slide without making sure you would regret it.

you dip the wash cloth into the warm water, wringing it before gently wiping the hunter's face. blood and grime disappear to reveal scattered scars, a mole, and tawny skin made golden by hours in the sun.

in the weeks you had been held captive by this man, you had never seen his face this close. his features are strong - a sharp jaw, a nose that looks like it had been broken once, and cheeks framed by long locks of dark hair.

despite all the reasons he's given you not to think so, you find him beautiful.

you don't want to admit it, so you tell yourself that the heat that spreads across your face is not from seeing the strong, corded muscles of his bare chest, but the fatigue earned from another day of caring for him.

that was it. that was all.

--

when he comes to, eden sees an angel. her skin is sweet, warm. her touch is gentle, a perfect palm pressed against his forehead. she is beautiful, ethereal. a blessing.

she is everything he has never deserved.

when she opens her mouth, soft lips like fresh petals in the spring, she says, "eden, you're burning up."

the sound of his name is nothing short of salvation.

"fuck!" she says, voice drifting off into the distance. "fuck fuck fuck!"

something like glass presses against his mouth. he turns away.

"why aren't you swallowing it?" she curses. the next thing he sees is her tipping a small amber bottle to her face.

then: warmth. soft petals press against his lips and he gasps at the closeness, at her scent encompassing all of his senses. a tongue probes at his teeth and he opens himself to receive her offering.

sweet liquid fills his mouth: valerian, oregano, echinacea, honey. the taste is similar to the antibiotic tincture he keeps in his pantry.

he takes his good arm and steadies her against his body, pulling her deeper into the kiss. she makes a sound like she's surprised and he feels her hands cup his jaw. he does not deserve any of it, but he wants more. he wants all of her.

"eden," she breathes, pulling away. the angel wipes her wet mouth with the back of her hand, scarlet coloring her cheeks. she rolls off of him.

the absence of her warmth is agony, but before he can call for her, sleep takes him once again.

--

the next morning, you're on top of eden with the flint arrowhead pressed against his neck.

you do not think about the kiss. you do not think about the way he held you as you forced the medicine into his mouth.

in fact, you could end this. right now, you could take the cabin for yourself. there are enough provisions to last you until you find a way to figure out how to live here. all you have to do is -

"do it," he says, eyes clear and watching you. they look like storm clouds. like morning fog. like the water of the crystal lake where he found you.

you pause, hesitant.

for the first time since he brought you here, his eyes soften.

"someone did that to you, didn't they?" he asks, voice thick with fatigue. "they hurt you."

somehow, you know he's talking about the scar on your neck. you remember bailey pinning you to the wall, his pocketknife carving your skin after you bit him for daring to lay his hands on robin.

"i know what that's like," he says, averting his gaze. there's a note of shame in his voice. "to feel helpless."

you see the silvery scar along his jaw.

and then you break. because in the end, you are both just two animals with the same wounds.

you toss the arrowhead away and it clatters on the wooden floor. then you replace your hands at his neck with your mouth against his.

there's a moment of hesitation before he kisses you back, hungry and desperate.

"more," he growls, and you obey by pulling your bra off over your head.

you lean over him and he takes your breast into his mouth, lapping slowly at the soft bud of your nipple with his warm tongue. you mewl, tightening your thighs around his torso.

when he sinks his teeth into your skin, you gasp, taking his hair into your fist. it's going to bruise, but you don't mind.

"more," he says again, licking between your breasts. you feel his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and after a moment of shuffling, you oblige.

he grips your thighs as he lowers you down to his face, his breath hot against your wet slit.

moments after he brings his tongue to your clit, you come shaking and whimpering.

although he's fucked you more times than you can count, this is different.

before, he would never take your pleasure into account and would ram into you until he was satisfied. even then, it would not be enough for his appetite. he'd pull you to him for more, no matter how sore or hurt you were.

but now, he's licking small circles in this part of you that aches for his touch, pulling you deeper into him as you shudder. it's exhilarating. you can't get enough of it.

"eden," you breathe, your voice trembling from coming undone once again.

"mm?" he pulls away. his eyes are hazy with lust - storm clouds rolling through the sky, rumbling with thunder.

"i want you inside of me," you tell him, ready for the lightning.

gently, he guides you onto your back. the floor is still warm from his body, the cushions you placed a few days ago soft against the back of your head.

he sheds his shirt, careful not to undo the dressing. you help him unbutton his pants. there's a scar on his hip and you think about biting it.

"are you sure you'll be okay?" you ask, worried that the wound would reopen. "i don't want you to get hurt."

"i'll be fine," he says, trailing kisses along your neck. "as long as you're here to take care of me."

there's a gentleness to his voice, an implied question. you're tempted to say yes, but you're not yet quite sure.

eden presses into you, his length brushing against your clit. you grip his arms, his muscles tight under your fingers, as you moan.

"let me hear them," he breathes. his voice is soft, tender - this is not the roughness of the man who became your captor. "you were always so quiet before."

eden groans, thrusting himself into you with one long slide. his dark hair cascades over you as he lowers his body to meet yours.

"take me," you say, biting your lip at the sheer pleasure curling hot within your core. you buck your hips towards him, meeting him at the hilt. "all of me."

it's his turn to gasp. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours as he rocks his hips into you.

you kiss the scar on his jaw, tangle your fingers in his hair. the scent of him is earthy, like the forest. you wouldn't mind getting lost in him.

eden huffs, pleasure building within the both of you. you're holding him like that when you begin to come, his name whispered between your lips.

it's not long after that he climaxes, too, burrowing his face into your neck once the shaking stops.

there are a few moments of silence. you hear nothing else but the wind howling outside.

"don't run," he says. so quiet, just barely louder than the crackling of the fireplace.

your bodies are warm and sweat-slicked, glistening with the glow of your embrace.

"i'll protect you." his lips trace the scar on your neck. "i'll provide for you." his mouth brushes yours. "all you have to do is stay." when he lifts his face, you see his eyes shining in the firelight. he's desperate, and you get the sense that he will not ask again.

you think of the life you had before you were taken - the beatings, the stealing, the lying you had to do in order to survive. was it really worth going back to? could you hope to build a new future, one warm with firelight?

your hand finds his. his fingers are strong, callused, but they're gentle. they could be yours, if you want it.

to your surprise, a blush colors your hunter's cheeks. in this moment of tenderness, you find your answer.

"i'll stay," you tell him, like it's a promise. like it's a vow.

[richincolor]

New Releases - Week of August 27, 2024

We've found eight different new releases to shout about this week. Are any of them on your TBR? 

Bridge Across the Sky by Freeman Ng Atheneum Books for Young Readers

A raw and honest historical novel in verse about a Chinese teen who immigrates to the United States with his family and endures mistreatment at the Angel Island Immigration Station while trying to navigate his own course in a new world.

Tai Go and his family have crossed an ocean wider than a thousand rivers, joining countless other Chinese immigrants in search of a better life in the United States. Instead, they’re met with hostility and racism. Empowered by the Chinese Exclusion Act, the government detains the immigrants on Angel Island in the San Francisco Bay while evaluating their claims.

Held there indefinitely, Tai Go experiences the prison-like conditions, humiliating medical exams, and interrogations designed to trick detainees into failure. Yet amid the anger and sorrow, Tai Go also finds hope—in the poems carved into the walls of the barracks by others who have been detained there, in the actions of a group of fellow detainees who are ready to fight for their rights, in the friends he makes, and in a perceived enemy whose otherness he must come to terms with.

Unhappy at first with his father’s decision to come to the United States, Tai Go must overcome the racism he discovers in both others and himself and forge his own version of the American Dream.

The Sticky Note Manifesto of Aisha Agarwal by Ambika Vohra Quill Tree Books, Harper Collins

“How have you gotten out of your comfort zone?”

That’s the Stanford admissions prompt that valedictorian shoo-in Aisha Agarwal can’t answer. Her life’s been homework and junk food. So, when her crush, Brian, asks her to winter formal, Aisha thinks her fate is changing . . .

. . . until Brian stands her up.

As if on cue, a banged-up Volkswagen arrives outside the dance; the driver profusely apologizing for being late to pick her up. Does Aisha know him or what he’s talking about? No. Does the Stanford essay convince her to take him up on the ride? Absolutely.

To Aisha’s relief, seventeen-year-old Quentin Santos isn’t a kidnapper, but he is failing math. They strike a deal: if Aisha helps Quentin pass math, he’ll help push her out of her comfort zone, using a series of sticky note to-do’s—dares—that will not only give Aisha content for her essay, but will turn her into the confident person she’s always wanted to be.

From New Year’s Eve kisses to high school parties, Aisha’s sticky note manifesto is taking off. But when she falls for the wrong guy, hurts her best friend, and still can’t finish her essay, victory feels far from reach.

Is winning worth it if you end up losing yourself in the process?

Indiginerds edited by Alina Pete Iron Circus Comics

First Nations culture is living, vibrant, and evolving…

…and generations of Indigenous kids have grown up with pop culture creeping inexorably into our lives. From gaming to social media, pirate radio to garage bands, Star Trek to D&D, and missed connections at the pow wow, Indigenous culture is so much more than how it’s usually portrayed. These comics are here to celebrate those stories!

Featuring an all-Indigenous creative team, INDIGINERDS is an exhilarating anthology collecting 11 stories about Indigenous people balancing traditional ways of knowing with modern pop culture.

Bvlbancha Forever, by Ida Aronson and Tate Allen

Walk With The Earth Mother, by Maija Plamondon and Milo Applejohn

Roll Your Own Way, by Jordanna George

Digital Eden, by Raven John and Asia Wiseley

Amplification/Adaptation, by Em Matson and Nipinet Landsem

Welei (I Am Fine), by Bianca “binkz17” and Rhael McGregor

Saving Throws, by James Willier and Sam “Mushki” Medlock

Dorvan V, by Alina Pete

Uncured Horror, by Gillian Joseph and Wren Rios

Airwaves Pirates, by Autumn Star and PJ Underwood

Missed Pow Wow Connection, by Kameron White

Twin Flames by Olivia Abtahi Lee & Low Books

When djinn start to show up in twins Leila and Bianca’s small Virginia hometown, the only way they and their families will survive will be if the twins can get past their differences and start to act like sisters again.

Twins Bianca and Leila could not be more different from each other. Being both Argentinian and Iranian in a small town has always been hard, but with Leila shunning her heritage and Bianca embracing it, the two walk very different paths. They run in different circles of friends, and barely talk anymore. Leila’s a homebody who loves to craft and plans on marrying her high school sweetheart. Bianca’s more anti-establishment and plans to get out of Dodge as soon as humanly possible.

But on their eighteenth birthday, the neighbor’s barn is burned down–and it doesn’t seem to have been caused by anything normal like an electrical or fuel source. When Leila encounters a mysterious monster arising from the fire, suddenly she gains strange powers–and can no longer touch iron or even eat foods with high iron content.

What are these creatures and where are they coming from? What do they want with Leila–or other people in town, for that matter? Can the twins learn to rely on each other–and their cultures–to banish them? It’ll take a sisterly reconciliation for the girls to find out and to save their hometown in this New Visions Award-winning fantasy adventure.

Everything We Never Had by Randy Ribay Kokila

From the author of the National Book Award finalist Patron Saints of Nothing comes an emotionally charged, moving novel about four generations of Filipino American boys grappling with identity, masculinity, and their fraught father-son relationships.

Watsonville, 1930. Francisco Maghabol barely ekes out a living in the fields of California. As he spends what little money he earns at dance halls and faces increasing violence from white men in town, Francisco wonders if he should’ve never left the Philippines.

Stockton, 1965. Between school days full of prejudice from white students and teachers and night shifts working at his aunt’s restaurant, Emil refuses to follow in the footsteps of his labor organizer father, Francisco. He’s going to make it in this country no matter what or who he has to leave behind.

Denver, 1983. Chris is determined to prove that his overbearing father, Emil, can’t control him. However, when a missed assignment on “ancestral history” sends Chris off the football team and into the library, he discovers a desire to know more about Filipino history―even if his father dismisses his interest as unamerican and unimportant.

Philadelphia, 2020. Enzo struggles to keep his anxiety in check as a global pandemic breaks out and his abrasive grandfather moves in. While tensions are high between his dad and his lolo, Enzo’s daily walks with Lolo Emil have him wondering if maybe he can help bridge their decades-long rift.

Told in multiple perspectives, Everything We Never Had unfolds like a beautifully crafted nesting doll, where each Maghabol boy forges his own path amid heavy family and societal expectations, passing down his flaws, values, and virtues to the next generation, until it’s up to Enzo to see how he can braid all these strands and men together.

Our Shouts Echo by Jade Adia Disney-Hyperion

Survival Tip #1: The world is going to shit. Whatever you do, trust no one.

Sixteen-year old Niarah Holloway’s only goal in life is to get through it unnoticed. That, and to spend her first summer in LA building a doomsday bunker in her backyard. Because if the past few years have taught Niarah anything, it’s that the ocean levels are rising, minimum wage is a scam, and the people who are supposed to protect you will hurt you. Now the only thing that helps Niarah stay afloat amidst the constant waves of anxiety and dread that threaten to drag her under is her new mantra: Be prepared.

But Niarah wasn’t prepared for Mac Torres. Not for his disarmingly cute face, or for his surfer lifestyle, or for the way his smile resuscitates her heart. Mac is a bomb that blows Niarah’s world to pieces, but instead of disaster, he fills it with sunset bonfires, breakfast burritos, and new friends.

For years, Niarah’s life has revolved around ignoring the demons of her past, avoiding the problems of her present, and preparing for the catastrophes of the future. Now Mac—with his sunshine laugh and infectious optimism— is determined to show her another way to be. But in a world where the worst feels inevitable, can one summer be enough to light the way to a hopeful future? Can one summer be enough to fall in love?

With Love, Echo Park by Laura Taylor Namey Atheneum

Seventeen-year-old Clary is set to inherit her family’s florist shop, La Rosa Blanca—one of the last remnants of the Cuban business district that once thrived in Los Angeles’s Echo Park neighborhood. Clary knows Echo Park is where she’ll leave a legacy, and nothing is more important to her than keeping the area’s unique history alive.

Besides Clary’s florist shop, there’s only one other business left founded by Cuban immigrants fleeing Castro’s regime in the sixties and seventies. And Emilio, who’s supposed to take over Avalos Bicycle Works one day, is more flight risk than dependable successor. While others might find Emilio appealing, Clary can see him itching to leave now that he’s graduated, and she’ll never be charmed by a guy who doesn’t care if one more Echo Park business fades away.

But then Clary is caught off guard when an unexpected visitor delivers a shocking message from someone she thought she’d left behind. Meanwhile, Emilio realizes leaving home won’t be so easy—and Clary, who has always been next door, is who he confides in. As the summer days unfold, they find there’s something stronger than local history tying them together.

Libertad by Bessie Flores Zaldivar Dial Books

A queer YA coming-of-age set during the rigged Honduran presidential election, about a young poet discovering the courage it takes to speak her truth about the people and country she loves.

As the contentious 2017 presidential election looms and protests rage across every corner of the city, life in Tegucigalpa, Honduras churns louder and faster. For her part, high school senior Libertad (Libi) Morazán takes heart in writing political poetry for her anonymous Instagram account and a budding romance someone new. But things come to a head when Mami sees texts on her phone mentioning a kiss with a girl and Libi discovers her beloved older brother, Maynor, playing a major role in the protests. As Libertad faces the political and social corruption around her, stifling homophobia at home and school, and ramped up threats to her poetry online, she begins dreaming of a future in which she doesn’t have to hide who she is or worry about someone she loves losing their life just for speaking up. Then the ultimate tragedy strikes, and leaving her family and friends—plus the only home she’s ever known—might be her only option.

[kagecreep]

Punishment (VxMC)

(Killer Chat)

Description: More than anything humans want to be understood. V exposes you to his work. Plaster mind beside Stone mind. Warnings: Gore, corruption... the usual

Notes: more notes on Ao3 WC: 2.7k

��─━────༺༻────━─━

It is a special anger.

A vitriol that punishes and pleases; pleasure in the infliction, thick vines of steel down and down again. It splatters––like mud, warmed by summer, in splashing boots in winding, younger evenings. Coating and sticky, that filthy, enveloping embrace.

You wrench it in and a cry is wrenched out of you in return. Equal scales. Aching and wanton. It sings in the street out back of the bar. You are singing in the street out back of the bar.

If rage is blinding, then the satisfaction of satiated rage is sheer ecstasy. Your heart rolls around in your body and brings it everywhere; blood rushing, veins rolling, singing, dancing entwined with nerves beneath your skin. Everything is singing. Your grin is dancing over your face, crooked and twisting, lips agape and teeth dripping with thick, red clots. He is already gone. The sins linger in his body. 

You cut in and try to remove them, try to salvage what is left from the putridity of his actions in life. 

Knife squelch and tendon rip. Remove genitalia, remove eyes. Remove hands. All used in detriment. Nothing righteous ever came from his hands.

You cut in and pull out his teeth, stretch the muscles and rip slowly at the tongue, cutting the muscle bit by bit, watching how the blood flows back into his throat and pools there till you can't see your own fingers working in his cold mouth.

You want to bite in. Jagged teeth rending flesh away from bone, animal teeth spitting fat and intestine––but you don't want him in your mouth. It's his desire to be in the wanting mouth of a beautiful specimen. You will give him nothing of the sort.

Besides, Valentin is still watching you. He does not approve of cannibalism. It is not so easily washed from the material body. Instead, you shove the tongue in the puffy, open wound where his genitalia once hung. A pleasing and useless tongue.

"That's enough," Valentin says, places a firm hand on your shoulder, and pulls you away.

You stumble off and land backwards, bloody hands scraping across the freezing, wet cement. Your body is shaking. Animal bones want to pounce. But the humanity lingers in Valentin, slowly seeping into you, as animal greed drips out and pools, and is absorbed by the flood.

You didn't understand before; you thought you did, thought you comprehended the drive and will of Valentin. It made sense and you admired his flowers––the logic that gave his actions meaning.

It's enlightenment. Freedom. He brought you here, brought you to the garden. He pulled away the blinding sun to see the wilted underside of humanity. Roots of Eden's tree reaching for nutrients; blood in the soil. A man crawling out of a bar, sick with alcohol and false morals like leprosy on his brain, clutching a woman by the neck. Slowly dimming the glow.

If your hands cause you to sin, cut it off and throw them away –– if your lungs cause you to live, cut it off and throw them away.

No one listens in the alley. No one wanders its bleeding walls. No eyes blink in the molding mortar between the bricks, so you leave the body to festering rot, and trudge out, and crawl into his car covered in blood. The sickness creeps in; the stickiness, peeling blood in the shape of your fingerprints. It flecks off and falls onto the murmuring floor of his car.

You never saw anyone getting raped before. Like a statistic in your philosophy, your respect for humanity trembles and shrinks in on itself.

"Why did you take me out there?" You ask quietly, knowing the answer.

His hands tighten around the steering wheel, creaking leather against leather.

"I believe it is judicious for you to know what it is I do, so you have no delusions as to my nature... nor the nature of humanity," he says, staring pointedly at the road ahead.

It's not a full lie. 

"You're not telling me everything," you murmur––a whispering song. "For all your talk of duty... I can tell. it's pleasure that drives you more than anything. You won't even admit it."

Your fingers crawl over his, nails gently scraping over the back of his hand. Blood flakes off and falls into his lap. You shift in your seat, crawl up onto your knees, and lean over, shaking in the moving car. You say your prayer.

"You enjoy killing psychos. I think it's the only joy you get in life. I think death is your purpose for living," you hiss into his ear. "But you're still human. Desperately aching to be understood. Having me accept your runaway justice wasn't enough. You needed to inundate me in the pleasure of some sick fuck's blood."

You spit the last words. They land on his face. He flinches away, lips tightening, eyes piercing the road ahead.

"I've seen you work before. That loving passion you put into it, every blazing wound you wreak. I guess... it never registered before. You were right." You trail upwards, and the back of your fingers brush down the side of his face. "I needed to experience it myself to understand."

Rarely is Valentin ever lost for what to say; his elegance betrays the silence into knowledge. He doesn't want to admit to the truth of anything you've said, so it is better to say nothing at all.

You watch him for a moment more with dark eyes, lips parted in soft breaths, before collapsing back in your seat and sinking into the cushion. Your eyes flutter shut and you breathe deeply, relaxation like a heavy blanket coating you.

"I understand you, Valentin," you murmur, words slurred on your heavy tongue. "I understand."

You hold his hand. A lover reaching out over daises and wildgrass.

His intensity, boiling in the seat beside you, does not escape your notice in the passing yellow streetlamps. But you say nothing; you curl up in your seat, cheek pressed against the freezing car wall, and try to fall asleep in your skin of crusted blood.

~+~

Bodies are made to be consumed. Consumed and then consumed again. A tenfold consummation. God is crying out to you and you are not hearing it. God is on His knees travelling through the rough current of Valentin's arteries, begging you to come home. You have cut the tether of your mind––the frail, radio connection between creator and creation. God's pleas are pounding against your fingers.

"Does it feel good?" You whisper, breath across Valentin's face as you lay atop him in bed. "To be understood?"

He can barely answer. Barely strain a reply out from beneath your fingers. They rest against his throat, barely pushing and barely there, and yet a worthy vice for his mind all the same.

"I believe your assessment of human nature is... lacking," he says, words gritted behind gritted teeth.

Fingers slide down, frigid bone against burning, firey organs––larynx, esophagus, trachea. Soft and pliant like the raw meat harvested fresh from a wound.

"Tell me what it lacks, my dear," you murmur, entranced at the point where body meets body. Finger against bare chest.

"There is more to human desire than the will to be understood." His eyes search your absent expression, and tuck stray hairs behind your ear. His warm hand is cupping your freezing cheek. "There exists also the will to create... and the ability to love."

You practically jump at the chance to prove him wrong.

"Creation is but an exposition of the mind. Appreciators of art nothing but voyeurs to the artist. And the artist, that creator... desperately wants to be understood. Why else pry open your being to the cold eyes of the ignorant? Hoping to save them? That's pride," you hiss. "Do you feel pleasure when you cut yourself open and see your heat seep into the cold? Are you happy to be sharing your heat with the world?"

Your words are a garbled mess, stringing together like the fat that strings together your brain cells, little electrical pulses that lead nowhere. Thoughts crying out in muted desperation, choking on the afterimages of a man's blood on your hands. Clotted blood, freezing in the winter air, damming up your thoughts. You are drowning in it.

I AM YOUR FREEZING COLD.

He strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, staring into your eyes.

"Do not lose yourself, my love," he murmurs.

A prayer.

"I am not lost if I am within you," you reply, thought sinking into decay, sinking into veins––beating aorta the cavernous atrium the seeking ventricles. 

You want to cry with desperation. What you want is not something you will ever receive. Again you imagine the heat of his body evaporating into the midnight; hot, steaming blood on the cold cement. Bitter gravel and sweet iron cells against your wanting tongue. The freezing cold and warmth.

"Lost in my lungs," he says. He is still searching your eyes.

YOU ARE MY PASSION FIRES.

"Lost everywhere within you," you say with a smile. "No, your proposition is not correct. What you've given me are results clouded by optimistic desire. But... they are rooted elsewhere. Creation is pride and still desire to be known. And love..."

He raises his brows expectantly, subtly. You barely notice. He is wanting your answer.

"Love is consuming," you whisper, in broken voices, breaking voices in your hands that clatter and tear down your bookcases and lamps and tapestries.

You are warming your freezing hands on his neck and he is sighing in relief. Succor for his fever. Relief for your joints aching with the cold.

"When you love bread, and fruit, you eat it," you say, knuckles just below his jaw. "You pick beautiful flowers and they die. You love your movies and television, your books and poetry... and it's called consuming content-–because you eat it, digest it, and spit it back out as refuse and filth, a mangled and misunderstood thing. You love someone... you eat them from the inside out. Consume their love and thoughts and bodies. Eat their hearts. Cut them out..."

Your body is shaking from the cold. Your hand against his throat is not enough. No longer can you hold yourself above him; your arms, aching from the cold, collapse and weaken, and his searing heat catches you from below. Skin against his skin. It is burning you and you love it, you sink into it, you tremble again and shake and wish you could shudder forever in his arms like a broken doll unable to wind up again. He brings the thin blanket over your shoulders. His arms encase you and the heat spreads. The blood clots are unfreezing, melting, and slowly thought leaks back into your head.

You are crying out to God and He is not hearing it because He is inside you within you pulsing within you and He is too busy keeping you alive and keeping you warm. Valentin has tied a knot between two frayed ends of a cord plugged into the wall. 

Falling Raining down like stardust the mercy of His love we ask Do you love me? And there is no answer no answer but knowing we are known

God is wrapping you up in His arms like a child swaddled by its mother. God is pressing His lips to your forehead and silently removing the last flecks of dried blood, and God is not telling you that you missed some spots while cleaning yourself up, and God is not telling you that the sight of you on your knees before death made him cry. Valentin will never tell you that the sight of you on your knees before your kill made him cry.

Valentin wraps you up in his arms and kisses you over and over. You continue to shiver against him––that aching cold transfers to his wounded heart as you slowly warm up––and deaf fingers roam up and down his waist, tracing like lace skeins of frost. They melt and drip into sweat as you drift lower down his stomach, then up to his chest––touch that melts off his body, rounds into pearls, and drops into God. He shivers with you. He presses into you, mumbling, wanting, and desiring. His mouth is ready to consume, ready to be consumed.

His lips are soft but they are not as warm as his hands. They press first into your neck, pulling in, skin between teeth as arteries roll around and veins pull like harp strings beneath the weight. Your eyes roll back into your head, lungs sucking in a sharp, frigid breath.

"I love you, my dear," he whispers, through tears and wounds, words burning your chest as his teeth crawl down, mouth still wanting and open.

You tug on what your numb fingers can grasp. Strong, rounded shoulders and thick braids. Rough claws over jawbone and clavicle.

"You feel it, don't you?" You say in a shaking voice. "Desire that is consuming that is greed."

He pulls away, shadowed eyes piercing you.

"And you love that you are wanted," Valentin says, fingers digging into your bare skin. "It does not cross your mind whether I desire you in gentle or violent ways. It is only that you are wanted at all that, to you, is of importance." His grip lessens, and a glimmer of dim, bunker light shines in his gaze. "That worries me, my love."

"It shouldn't," you say.

"And yet it does," he says. "Do you not have anything to say to quell my fretting heart?"

You eat the truth down, chewing around the bitter dregs and wondering what mottled things to spit out.

Instead you reach up, run your hand over the side of his skull, feel the shaved hair and the warmth of his face, and cradle it like it is the galaxy contained within the white calcium of human bone.

You are crying now. It is so cold.

"Do you understand me?" You ask in broken glass shards, clenched in your grasping palm. Trembling like a dog with paws frozen to the middle of a street.

You are just the same––you are desperate to be known, to be understood. You peel open your ribcage and hope desperately that Valentin feels the same desire to curl up in the ventricles of your beating, aching heart. 

But he does not. His love for you does not shatter the earth like yours does. Despite his monstrosities in life such sins do not reach his heart, he is pure and his love is pure and it is nothing but warmth and softness, and it breaks your fucking heart.

Beneath it all a wretched guilt. Blood stains your hands. You scrubbed for fifteen minutes till the raw scratched skin was as red as the blood of the man you killed, and you wonder, sobbing, if Valentin will ever forgive you for falling, if his mercy extends to the damned souls he hunts, if there is a reason or an excuse in his mind that pardons you from the avenging will of God. But deep down you know you don't care about God's mercy or His will or even His love. Valentin, shining halo Valentin, with crooked, blood-stained fur wings––Valentin and his green, Eden-filled eyes––he is all you care about.

You bawl and choke on your own cruel tears and keen and claw desperate in your hope that if you are pathetic enough he might take pity on you. It is being ripped from your vocal cords and you cannot say anything else.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

That aching, desirous prayer echoes back to you vacant of its origin and you hear it for what it is––a selfish, egoistical, grasping appetite that will never be satiated no matter how full you stuff your mouth with Valentin's love and sense.

You are a starving, rabid thing. Flesh pulled taut over bone. Shards poking through the skin. Your body is made to be consumed.

You think yourself a broken, sharp thing. Cutting Valentin's heart into pieces.

Instead, he has broken you. Valentin has refused to consume you.

[ask-the-no-killing-game-au]

✨

A new art post should be out tonight. I'm not putting this one in the main DRDT tags, so if you'd like it to get more popular, please help me out by reblogging.

Here's the full list of every post, for reference.

Important posts

Pronouns and identities

Relationship diagram

Official designs #1 (old)

(POLL) Who do you want to see? #1 (old)

Official designs #2 (old)

Official Animation

(POLL) Who do you want to see? #2 (old)

Official designs #3

Other asks

Asks are open

Opinions on the building #1

J talks about video games

Whit discusses gender

Why is everyone here?

Living room map & favourite rooms

Teruko's least favourite

Favourite people, part 1

Nico's plush cat

Favourite things in free time

Levi is given a lollipop

Veronika's favourite movie

Who waters the plant?

Who do you miss most?

J and Nico

Favourite pancakes?

Teruko tries to play Jenga

TV schedule

Who regrets staying here?

Veronika's sticky notes

Nothing bad could happen..

...Or could it

Hu falls over

Arei investigates

Veronika's opinions

David is asleep

Arturo refuses help

Veronika's horror movies

Gender identity

Why do people have favourites?

Arturo finds Veronika

Xander discovers something he shouldn't

.. And so does Nico

Arturo looks too much like her

Nico is threatened

Nico's favourite place

Arei finds Xander

Getting called weak...

Where's Xander gone?

Teruko can't find Xander

Eden's watch

Nico is busy

Map & student locations (old)

Nico is cooking

The kitchen is closed

Nobody can get in

The dinner starts

Levi finds (some of) Veronika

She's a part of everyone

People find out who the dinner was

Teruko wants to know what happened

Nico is dead...

... Nevermind.

What do people do now?

How is everyone feeling?

An interesting video from a person long gone

Caring for the body

How does Xander feel?

Favourite people, part 2

Xander gets stabbed

Eden has a realisation

Someone is stuck with the dead body

Levi comforts her

Xander's true self (It's not my fault.)

"Arturo's" birthday

Xander has a plan

Xander and Arei

Secrets! Deep, dark secrets! (I hope someone recognises that)

Who is Min Jeung?

...Let's not talk about this one.

Veronika's horror movies II

Veronika discovers hair dye

[northlight14]

Spoilers for Project Edens Garden Chapter 1 Victim!!!! I mean it, don’t read this if you haven’t gotten up to that point in game yet!!!

So….i just got to the death last night….oh my god. Bruh I had a whole list dedicated to my predictions of when certain characters were gonna die. I was convinced Wolfgang wasn’t gonna survive but I didn’t think it would be this early!! What the hell?!?! My autistic ass is usually so good at predicting stuff when it comes to danganronpa because of pattern recognition. And because of that I was like “oh yeah Wolfgang is safe until at least the second last chapter” and then just ignored all the signs that he wasn’t in fact safe!!!😭😭 genuinely sending all my love and admiration to the writers because I haven’t been this thrown off by a game (or any piece of media) in so long. Been thinking non stop about it because all the signs were there. The fact that the first victim always has some mystery surrounding them and who has more mystery than Wolfgang? The fact so much attention has been on him. The fact that the title of the fucking chapter links to so many Bible quotes that can relate to him!! (I fucking pointed that out too but I was so sure of his plot armour I just shrugged it off like an idiot🤦😭) And then the fact that since Damon was the one who had his blackmail and specifically didn’t show him it and combine that with the sticky note he left for Tozu which I guarantee is gonna be used against him when I get to trial, and it’s the perfect set up to pin it on Damon!

I’m playing it with my partner tho so I’m not gonna get to the investigation and trial for a couple weeks. So in the meantime I guess I’m just gonna be sat here with my tinfoil hat trying to figure out who the real antagonist is since Wolfgang was the perfect fake out (like fr everything about his character was so well written. He was honestly terrifying in a way no other Dangan antagonist has been before. And the reactions to his death? Fuck I love the writing of this game so much😭😭)

[literaila]

₊✩‧₊˚ the origin (get to know me) ‧₊˚✩‧₊

₊✩‧ basics ₊˚✩‧

‧✩ i'm verity, 18, bi, leo, she/they pronouns

‧✩ currently doing: nothing

‧✩ huge introvert, small loser, very dry (dryer than the one in my basement), also very humorous (argue with a wall)

‧✩ likes: my dog foggy, cats, the color green, psychoanalyzing fictional characters, writing melodrama, one direction, hozier, going to costco, baking, cooking, anime edits, impressing people with my obvious talent, candles, coloring, wearing lotion, doing my nails

‧✩ dislikes: coleslaw, mean people, when people interrupt my quiet time, getting gas, bad movies (i watch them anyway though), when something sticky gets on the floor, and coleslaw

‧✩ random facts: type one diabetic, fantastic tonal memory, i have three brothers, i own three copies of twilight, i love ice cream cake

₊✩‧ favorites ₊˚✩‧

‧✩ thing: foggy (my dog again)

‧✩ movies: cars, tick tick boom, set it up, jjk 0, hacksaw ridge, barbie princess charm school, thor ragnarok, twilight

‧✩ shows: new girl, criminal minds, greys anatomy, how to get away with murder, master kitchen, the queens gambit, psych, daredevil, jessica jones, wandavision, good luck charlie, bluey, the night manager

‧✩ books: fangirl, scythe, twilight, percy jackson, the way i used to be, lessons in chemistry, the song of achilles, six of crows, my life next door, the cruel prince, shatter me

‧✩ anime: jjk, mha, aot, chainsaw man, cherry magic, a sign of affection, demon slayer, bungo stray dogs, death note, solo leveling

‧✩ songs: brutus, call your mom, butchered tongue, unknown, from eden, only angel, epic III, little big boy, my love is sick

‧✩ other: soup, blankets, having medical insurance, the interview where harry mocks niall saying "no i don't," my best friend i guess (bob), my grandma, matt murdock

[cokoweee]

okay im listening to east of eden by zella day rn and i am thinking about your turtles the apocalypse vibey ones

Oooo I see what you’re slapping down. I actually rlly like the song and now I probably have a name for the sticky note

[yaksha-garden]

08.     wallet.

Permanent resident card (obtained through ??? means - at some point during their exile Eden or someone affiliated with them started on the paperwork to get them a legal identity. The situation is very messy considering that paperwork got dropped for like 20 years before they came back. They have no idea if this permanent resident card is valid.)

Grocery money, and/or assorted cash for errands - sometimes (Eden understands "exchange money for goods and services" and that's about it for their financial literacy. Kubera's Prism has complex economic systems all over the place, it's just that much how they didn't bother to learn actual botany until recently, relying on the Keystone's power to assert their will, they also didn't bother to learn shit about the economy, or its potential impact on them or vice versa. this came back to bite them hard and come to think of it it's probably one of the topics they'd like to learn more about, but at the moment they're focusing on physical sciences. For now they let Vayu handle human world finances, he's more familiar with it and also not in a weird legal identity grey area)

A sticky note with a bunch of dates and times scrawled on it and also a very crude sketch of a random guy they saw, and doodles of flowers and vines

A couple of stray bus tickets

All these are human world items. I figure the wallet itself was a gift from one of Vayu's relatives, but a fairly cheap one, to the point that it feels a little passive aggressive to Eden, but oh well.

[sc4rleteyez]

cigarette daydreams, dorms!

Aziracrow, religious only boys school au! (prev, From Eden)

The dorms at the school were small, but they were one person dorms, so no one complained. They were allowed to personalize them however they wanted as long as they didn’t have anything bad (within christian standards) and they kept it neat and clean. There were three (3) dorm buildings, each with three floors but no elevator, as they were really old and had probably never been renovated.

Crowley had a single Queen poster on the wall beside his bed, it was the cover for their album Queen II, as it was the most “not-bad-looking” one. He had little pots and jars crammed around; on the old desk that was provided by the school, the window still, the top of the drawers (also provided by the school), and the floor. The room was covered in a green that made Crowley feel like he could breathe. There was a bedside table with two small drawers, too. In the first one, he had a big, thick bible in which he had cut a hole in the pages so he could use it to hide stuff he didn’t want the monks or nuns to see. In the second drawer, he kept the only book he ever actually read, Botany for Gardeners: An Introduction and Guide By Brian Capon (It had just been published! It had been given to him as a birthday present from his favorite cousin), and sheet music. He kept his clothes in the old, but bigger than the bedside table, wooden drawers.

Aziraphale’s dorm certainly gave off 19th century writer vibes. He had no posters on the walls, but he did have some poetry he (very painfully) ripped from poetry books, and quotes he’d read in books and loved (including bible verses), so he wrote them on separate pieces of paper and stuck them on the wall. He had a very nice but old desk he’d thrifted (for only 23.99! [it had been a pain to get inside the dorm]), which had a couple drawers and space to keep books in on top. In the drawers, he kept an old foldable chess set, and on top of it, he kept an inkwell and a quill, and some paper, along with the books he had borrowed from the library and was currently reading. On his bedside table, he had a small lamp, and inside the drawer, his pocket bible, snacks, sticky notes and pens. He also kept his clothes inside the old wooden drawers.

[goldentemplariumcrow]

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others🏹- For a talent they wish they had👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

@tireironmybeloved

"I'm not sure if it's considered weird or not, but I have this thing where I like to lightly pinch on my wrists and knuckles when I can't fidget with my digits."

"So... you know how some children create a whole language of their own and even write and talk in it? Think that, but instead of a child's journal, it's literally every other note, reminder and written piece I have around my place. Now, make it worse and understand that that's my modus operandi of writing, literally my first language, even more fluent than my Italian, because my brain is coded in it. I write and speak in Isu if I don't have my filters on."

"I have a healthy envy of my little brother's talents with clothes. He can make everything work, and if it doesn't work, he can dismantle, modify and put everything together again like it's no big deal at all. Sewing skills unmatched. I wish I had like one percent of that."

"Two words: Bloody Tree.

Let me paint the picture of the thing: flesh instead of a trunk, arms and hands instead of of branches, legs for roots, hair instead of leaves, eyes in place of flowers and fruits, sticky, oozy smell of a thousand putrefied bodies.

What happens when you cut the thing open? You find yourself face to face with its digestive track and blood. Lots of blood. Get cut or scratched by it? Congratulations, you'll turn into one and become part of its collective hive mind. Fell into it? You have exact nine and a half minutes to find your way out of it and pray that you haven't cut or scratched yourself during the process.

The thing is sentient, spreads fast and is capable of moving on its own accord. And I've had the very unpleasant experience of having to go in one to retrieve a Piece Of Eden. So, yes, I don't take well to even hearing about them. They're disgusting, dangerous, and I'd burn it with fire if it was an effective method of getting rid of it.

Why I can't tell anyone about my utter disgust? Because this thing is one of the obsessions of some of the scientists in Abstergo. Thus, I remain silent and wanting to kill every single one of the wackos who think that studying that thing is a good idea."

[rororowan02]

Van Gogh? Yes. The second one is based on this painting of the garden of Eden. Don’t remember the artist honestly

[occasionaloneshots]

Modern Stranger Things Girls

Headcannons including style and room decor only on the older sibling characters and younger, and only characters who has appeared in at least 2 seasons. (So not including Eden, Chrissy, Vickie, or Heather)

Nancy

Style is a mix between light academia and extremely girly

Over blushes purposefully, adds it to the tip of her nose

Big fan of Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, and Olivia Rodrigo, cries to “People Watching” but she doesn’t know how to explain why

Part of yearbook and the journalism at her school, talked the school into adding the paper as a section of their website

Paints her own nails, makes sure she does it every Sunday and then matches all her outfits to it through out the week

Has American Girl dolls from her childhood still in her closet for “safe keeping”

Plant mom, actually can keep them alive

Bedroom is full of real and fake plants, asks Mike to water them if she’s away, never tells him that half are fake so she can laugh about him watering all of them

A lot of neutral/green toned decor but she still has baby pink walls from when she was a kid, everyone says it suits her

Participates in spirit weeks, probably joined SGA just to help pick themes

Avid skirt wearer

Bullet journals and keeps a diary (tells people just journals with no further explanation)

Volunteers at the local animal shelter on the weekends

Taught El how to do her hair and makeup (often steals El from her brother and his friends if Max isn’t there)

Has modern Curtain bangs, never adds enough volume to them

Camp counselor every summer

love dainty jewelry, says she only wears it, but she wears a friendship bracelet El made her at camp until it literally falls apart (El said it was a thank you for making her feel normal when the kids didn’t, Nancy hid in the bathroom and cried a little over it)

Claw clip enthusiast

Robin

dresses like an artsy lesbian stereotype and then asks Steve if he thinks girls will know she likes girls

leather jacket girl

works at Best Buy, is really nosy when ringing up customers

Dustin came into the store to buy animal crossing so he could visit Suzie’s island, she immediately texted Steve about it and they teased him together (he has no regrets and has a really cute island)

Acts like a music snob but doesn’t actually have a music taste (Steve refuses to give her the aux and then they argue because Steve is a Yung Gravy and TMG fan)

collects crystals, doesn’t actually believe they have abilities she just likes the way they look on her shelves

mainly wears neutrals, but she has has a full collection of colorful button ups that she buys from mens sections

Wears almost exclusively converse and boots

hair tie around her wrist 99% of the time

Only wears eyeliner, mascara, and concealer (highlight and lipgloss come out if she feels like she needs to look nicer)

dyes the underside of her hair fun colors (Max helps, it’s a bonding experience)

Lets Nancy paint her nails

Collects patterned socks (prefers crew socks)

buzzfeed unsolved/the watcher Stan (loves the professor, watches puppet history when she can’t sleep)

room is really messy but in a way that it almost looks creative

wall is absolutely covered with posters, pictures, drawings, and letters

Had white bedding, bought darker bedding because she’s prone to spills

Max

has 2 styles, half surfer and half skater (learned how to surf as a kid, misses it)

thinks skirts are only for special occasions

believes in the healing abilities of crystals, goes shopping for them with Robin and keeps an amethyst stone on her at all times

bought Lucas a rose quarts necklace once and a matching one for herself (after an actually messy breakup, she noticed he took it off and cried about it)

Big scrunchie fan because normal hair ties pull her hair and she hates the feeling of clips

has a clear phone case, keeps a picture of her and Lucas and a sticky note with a drawing from El in the back

has a locked folder in her notes app that is secretly a journal, won’t tell anyone

draws all over her vans and converse, protects her airforces with her life

big fan of hats

became closer with Mike because her other friends won’t watch scary movies with her (Lucas will if asked nicely, mocks the movie the whole time. Dustin and El would really rather not because Max likes to scare them during the movie and Will doesn’t want to admit they still give him nightmares)

actually remembers to put sunscreen on every day (she’ll regret it if she doesn’t)

Still puts beads on her converse laces like people did in 2019

Once near her birthday she mentioned wanting to buy a pair of customized Jeans and then Will gifted her a pair (he spent 3 days on them)

Got close with Robin when she started highschool because they had the same lunch and looked obviously lost, hangs out with the band kids despite having no musical skill

Genuinely likes punk pop (and normal pop but she only admits that to El, who exclusively listens to bedroom pop)

never turns her overhead light on, relies on the windows and lamps in her room

Still sleeps with a stuffed animal because she can’t sleep alone after getting wrapped up in the upside down drama

El

dresses in super colorful clothes, is on the edge of dressing kid core but she leans a little too pastel for it

obsessed with her hair once it’s long enough to play with, collects hair accessories so she can try different styles

also collects squishmellows (gave max the stuffed animal she sleeps with, it’s a squishmellow, go figure)

watches makeup tutorials when she can’t sleep and tries to recreate them (Nancy bought her her first makeup items and she got her colorful eyeshadow pallets that El is dying to use)

indie girl type of bedroom, probably has a loft bed

big fan of platform shoes because they make her closer to Mike’s height while being easier to walk in than heels

big fan of dresses and skirts, extremely girly style (once she finds her own, with the help of Max) so that she can take back not feeling pretty as a child

has a Jean jacket that she begged will to paint after seeing Max’s jeans(and he did, it now has flowers on it)

Big fan of accessories in general but especially the chunkier, colorful type (like the y2k style rings and beaded necklaces)

once got Max to add a streak of purple to her hair while Max was dying robin’s (it was to feel like a part of the group but she actually loved it)

hates the feeling of both nail polish and fake nails so her nails are always bare

has pictures with her friends hanging on Fairy lights over her headboard

got a pair of AirPods as a gift from Mike once, bought a case for them to “make them cuter” because she thought they looked boring

exclusive listens to bedroom and indie pop

sleeps with a night light (and possibly the door open) because she hates when it’s fully dark around her

has a friendship bracelet from Nancy that she got on her last day of summer camp, wears it everyday (it matches Nancy’s)

has a set of those rings that connect from Max, Max wears the one with the cut out, El has the dainty one (it’s a butterfly)

Suzie

Still dresses pretty modest to make her parents happy but she a little pickier about it

big fan of graphic tees but has to be really careful about the graphic on them

plays animal crossing (talked Dustin into also playing) and has strong opinions about the villagers

secretly has social media, deletes them weekly when her parents ask to see her phone (feels guilty about it)

puts way too much effort into PowerPoints and essays, spends days on them

prefers winter because she’s really good at layering (and her clothes look a lot cuter and less “my mom only lets me wear swim dresses because other one pieces show too much”)

Has built her entire future with Dustin in the Sims 4 (probably more than once)

probably has those heart shaped prescription glasses to be quirky but they actually fit her style really well

something tells me she’d be a really big fan of 90s and early 2000s country (especially the love songs) but hates new country

scrapbooks as well as journaling to have something to do with her hands

max added her to a group chat with her and Eleven on Snapchat but she just lurks there because they make her nervous

collects physical media (her bookshelf has a whole shelf that’s just DVDs)

Not allowed to watch horror movies until she’s 18

After Dustin, she’s closest to Will in the party, she thinks he’s the nicest of Dustin’s friends

Has a picture she took on the last day of camp with Dustin as her Lock Screen, her parents grew to accept it

Avid Etsy user (and she covers everything with nerdy stickers, including her bedroom furniture)

big fan of headbands

Erica

loves getting color added to her braids (especially pink) and often adds beads

First makeup her mom let her wear (when starting Middle school) was highlight, mascara, and lip gloss

really pastel and girly but prefers pants to skirts

loves quirky earrings, refuses to admit some of them are nerdy (despite Lucas telling her her rubix cube earrings are super nerdy)

little mix, Ari, and Nicki fan

wears jewelry that probably counts as kandi (and makes it herself) but isn’t part of the alt kandi community

fanfiction and fanart creator

Definitely still watches MLP, ships at least 2 of the big ships

part of her middle school art club but also the SGA (doesn’t participate in spirt weeks)

took a semester of chorus once, discovered she has minor stage fright

Pastel bedroom (walls are probably like lilac) with more throw pillows than a middle schooler actually needs

sleeps through scary movies but also history class (honestly could probably sleep through anything)

big fan of crochet clothing

big Marvel fan, won’t watch DC movies (says it’s cheating on Marvel but she actually just doesn’t wanna learn anything about DC)

Steals hoodies out of Lucas’s closet when he’s not home so they don’t fight about it

scrolls through pintrest and Instagram hair posts, is getting really good at doing her own hair despite being in the 6th grade

had a rainbow loom phase, gave a few to El and Max after the star court incident as a thank you (though if you ask her she just didn’t like them, despite spending hours on them)