#This was doodled across different days but this was kinda timed and it was disappointing to realize this was drawn for more than an hour.

[screwpinecaprice]

He has short legs. 😫

I headcanon that the reason his torso is long (not to make up for his stubby legs lol,) is because his stomach area had to make extra room, because his insides got pushed off by his gem.

[hershelchocolate]

do you wanna talk about why wally (or any of your other Huge Faves) are so beloved to you

I honestly think a lot of it came from the fact that, at the time I made them, I really really related to them on a personal level

Wally was the first one, and he was just a design for Wally Franks from Bendy And The Ink Machine for a while. Kinda silly kinda stupid and everyone thinks he's always annoying and in the way, but he's a good kid! And he was fun to draw. So when I needed another filler character to round off a 10-character group, I just shoved him in there so I'd have a chance to draw him more.

But his personality in this environment suddenly gave him an all-new character and all at once he was the kid who came from a rough home, one that always wanted him to be smaller, out of the way, less of himself, but the one thing they couldn't take from him was his unending desire to be kind. Sure he has problems defending himself or setting boundaries or saying "no" in any scenario, but all of that comes from his desire to be kind to everyone he meets.

At the time I could really relate to that because I struggled with a lot of the same things, and as I've made more and more versions of him he's gotten a lot more confident than the original kid hiding scared behind his friends. He still has problems with setting boundaries, that's consistent, but he no longer has problems taking up space

I, on the other hand, am still working on that part 😳

I think the next big obsession was Lyf and the funny thing was? I didn't really care for them at first. They were just the narrator to my favorite Mechs album but they didn't really feel like a character to me.

Then I read Wayfarers

The concept was pretty simple: Lyf stumbles across Nastya post-Out and the two just. Travel together. But something about that made them click in my brain and suddenly I really really loved the concept behind their character.

Someone who was doomed from the start to be part of something they didn't understand, set up to lose everything and everyone they ever cared about, but who pushed through it all, survived, made a friend, and was thriving. There were setbacks, consequences of what set them on this path in the first place, but they had someone there with them who understood what they were going through and offered unending support.

I discovered the Mechs during March 2020. I'm sure you can see how I might have related to the concept of "my entire life is falling apart at the seams and nothing will ever be the same again but at least I can rely on the people around me"

I rediscovered them during my thesis year at college and became even more obsessed with Lyf, but this time in a slightly different way. I think the idea of graduating college was a whole new "my life is falling apart and will never be the same again", except this time I had a better idea about how rough it was going to be. The fans were always so kind in the tags of my silly notebook doodles, and looking forward to making and uploading those got me through a lot of really rough days at school. I wish I had the time to draw them more often.

It took me a really long time to connect with Finch, actually. At first I was even disappointed that I had to talk about them a lot solely for being the protagonist, because I found a lot of the side characters to be more compelling (Lorelai specifically for reasons I do not have time to get into).

And then I started writing the outline.

They're just a kid, man. They don't know what they're doing. The world is so big and they are so, so small. Everyone else seems to have a handle on things and for some reason refuses to tell them. No one is giving them the home-life support they need, and they have to figure it out themself, and everyone gets mad at them for getting it wrong.

And then suddenly I would protect them with my life

I saw a lot of myself in them all of a sudden when I realized just how lost and afraid they were to be navigating a world they didn't understand and no one seemed to be understanding how to help them in the first place. The fact that they were so young and childlike just meant that instead of relating to them, I wanted to protect them. It actually hurt to write a few of the scenes in Whisper Court because I wanted to go in there so bad and tell them they were loved, that they were fine existing the way they were, that there was nothing else they could have done.

I think it says a lot about me that these specific characters struck a chord with me and made me relate to them

But I think it says more about me that my instinct in every single one of these was to find a way to let them be happy and loved. Because maybe then I want myself to be happy and loved too

[pink-imagines]

memories

request: when we were young with todoroki🥰❤️

a/n: ngl i kinda almost started crying while writing this. i also used some inspo from Adele’s song All I Ask with this, so yeah

warnings: angst, mentions of explicit content

masterlist

requesting rules

song promptlist  click here to listen to the song!

Maybe in some other timeline the out come was different... which was why everyone was so shocked about it. You and Shoto were basically highschool sweethearts, you brought out the best in one another. He became more social if you were around and you got more confident. The two of you complimented each other so perfectly, like two puzzle pieces or yin and yang. You knew everything about each other and always knew what you should say to the other, even in the most dire situations. That’s why nobody expected you to break up.  When you left UA you were still together and started working at seperate hero agencies. You never saw each other that much and whenever you did you were too tired to do anything. So fights started, they were silly and didn’t actually have any meaning but they were taking a toll on both of you. This went on for a few years but the last fight was the worst of them all...

“Why can’t we just relax for once, instead of shouting at each other!?”, Shoto exclaimed. “I don’t know, you tell me!”, you sighed, “It’s just like you to put the blame on me!” It wasn’t just like him. He was actually always putting the blame on himself, you didn’t know why you’d say that. You watched as his face turned from anger to disappointment and sadness. Your heart broke at the sight and you got a tight clump in your chest. It felt as if someone had stepped on your ribcage with a big pair of boots. “Maybe we should stop...”, he whispered, “This isn’t good for us. Or our careers for that matter.” “Are you running away from me?”, you were holding back tears, “You know what? You’re just like your fucking father!” “What did you fucking say to me!?”, it looked like he was about to attack you, but he stopped himself. You stared at one another. No. This wasn’t good. You didn’t want to leave him but maybe... that’s what you had to do. “I’m sorry...”, you sniffled as the tears started to fall, “You’re right... it’s over. We’re breaking it off.” He didn’t say a word, and if you knew him well enough it was because if he did he’d also start crying. Shoto simply nodded and walked past you towards the door of your apartment. “I’ll... see you around...”, he muttered. “Goodbye, Shoto.”

Just thinking about you put that tight feeling in your chest back. In highschool you never really fought, it only started a few months after you started working... but the summer before you started working was possibly the most wonderful thing you had ever experienced. You spent a few days with the rest of the graduating class. All of you would go out on picknick’s here and there and sometimes you’d go to the beach. Either way it was always fun and you’d always go home with butterflies in your stomach and aching cheeks from laughing too much. That wasn’t your favourite memory of the summer, though. That would have to be when you and Shoto took a trip to your parents’ cottage by the mountains. They let you stay there for a week if you promised to clean the place up a bit... you just didn’t tell them about the fact that Shoto was following along. Okay, maybe you lied and said you were going with your girl friends... but that didn’t really matter in the end, they never found out anyways. The memories floods back to you every so often, sending butterflies to your stomach.

“Hey, is this you?”, Shoto asked as he flipped through an old photo album. “I thought I told you not to look at that!”, you exclaimed and tried to take the album from him. Of course he held it up above his head so that you couldn’t reach it and looked a bit closer at the photo. “You’re very adoreable.”, he chuckled before finally handing it to you. “Can we just forget about it and finish cleaning this up?”, you sighed and put away the photo album in the newly cleaned bookshelf. “Awe... are you embarrassed?”, he teased with a smile. Shoto never used to do that until you two started getting more comfortable, even when you were just friends. You were very happy that he had learned to be himself around you. “I’m not!”, you turned around to him and hoped that your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “You’re blushing.”, he pointed out, making you hide your face in your hands, “No, don’t hide... it’s cute.” He slowly pulled your hands away from your face and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Let’s finish cleaning up, okay?”, he grinned as he made an attempt to hold back his laughter at your flustered face.

You smiled at the memory... you had ended up cleaning up the entire house after that. It took a while but it was worth it in the end, and it wasn’t so bad since he was there. That wasn’t the best part of that trip though...

“Can I tell you something?”, you asked. “Of course.”, Shoto answered. The night was filled with stars, you could even see them through the green trees. The sun had just set and the moon was making it’s entrance. You were laying on a picnic blanket, looking up at the stars, and finally relaxing after a whole day of cleaning. It still surprised you that Shoto actually wanted to help you. Who would volunteer for cleaning? “You can’t laugh.”, you turned to you side so that you were facing him. “Sure.”, he said and looked over at you from the corner of his eye. “Promise me you won’t laugh?” “I promise.” You took a deep breath and laid back down on your back. Shoto slowly reached for your hand and took it in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze that said “go for it, you can tell me anything”. “Before we started dating I...”, you chuckled nervously, “... I used to get jealous when someone else would flirt with you... even if I didn’t have the guts to do it myself.” Shoto started laughing and you let go of his hand to, once again, hide your blushing face.  “I’m sorry...”, he said after he finished laughing, “... that’s normal though, isn’t it? I mean... I did that too.” You looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, his hair was slightly messy and he had a big smile on his face. Shoto took your hand once again. “So don’t be embarrassed about it, please.”, he turned to his side, “I don’t want you to be embarrassed about anything around me.” “Okay.”, you whispered as you were slowly closing the small gap between the two of you. You could feel his breath on your face... it smelled like mint, that kind that makes your mouth ice cold if you drink water.  “Can I kiss you?”, he whispered when you were mere inches away from each other. “Yes.”, was the only thing you managed to get out. The soft kiss turned into something that you had never done before, but you were still so calm. There was nothing to be scared or ashamed of, it was just Shoto. Between the breaks of the kiss, where you’d finally get to breathe, he kept asking if what he was doing was okay. You could only nod, your head felt like it was spinning. Maybe it was the world that was spinning around you, actually. It didn’t matter, it felt right. 

You had a few firsts with Shoto, but that one was probably the most memorable and most important. It brought you even closer than you were before, which helped the relationship evolve... just for it to break right in front of you. But you didn’t have time to think about that right now... you had to get going to your highschool reunion. 

The car stopped outside of the school and you reluctantly got out. You wanted to meet your old classmates, yes... and even if it had been five years, the wound still felt fresh. Maybe it was because you kept reopening it as soon as you tried to get into any other relationship. It didn’t matter now, you had to do this. For yourself and your pride. 

UA still looked about the same as when you went there. They had moved the tables around in the cafeteria a bit and the hallways seemed... longer. Maybe that was your imagination. You decided to go exploring further, since you did come here a bit early. So you went back to your old classroom... it was still the same. You walked over to what used to be your desk. Was it always so small? Somebody had doodled on your desk, and at first you were a bit mad about it until you read the text. Two names were scribbled down on the desk with a heart surrounding them. With a sigh you started scrubbing it away with your thumb. This sort of shit gets you in trouble during your lectures, you thought to yourself as you tried to imagine the person sitting here. They looked just like you, because you could only really think about the time you did the exact same thing.

“Y/L/N, are you listening?”, Midnight asked you in front of the class, interupting her own lecture. “Um, yes ma’am.”, you quickly looked up and placed your hand above the scribbled name on your desk. “Oh really?”, she walked up to your desk, “Show me what you’ve been so actively writing on your desk. I hope they’re notes.” The class chuckled, which didn’t help the fact that your face was burning hot. Shoto was sitting right beside you and you had to do everything in your power to not look up at him. Slowly, you revealed that you had indeed written down his name on your desk with a small smile. Midnight got an amused glimpt in her eyes as a big smile spread across her lips. If she were to say it out loud you would simply not look at him and when the lesson you’d have to run out of the classroom. You did the mistake of looking up at Shoto, he looked at you with a hint of a smile on his lips... nevermind, maybe you should jump out the window immediately instead. “Very well, Y/L/N.”, Midnight smacked her lips, “Make sure you erase that and actually listen to what I have to say. This’ll be on the test so pay attention and try not to get distracted any further.” You looked at her in shock and she smiled before motioning to your eraser and walking back to the front of the classroom. You had never erased something as fast as you had then.

Everybody had asked you about it after the lesson and you really couldn’t answer. So you made sure that the unknown student’s doodle was completely gone. “You do know we don’t have cleaning duty anymore, right?”, you heard a voice behind you, it was Izuku. “Oh my goodness, Izuku, you made it!”, you grinned and engulfed him in a hug. “They let me off early for once.”, he grinned and hugged you back, “It’s been a while. How are you?” “I’m good, how about you?”

Your conversation kept going as you slowly made your way to where the meet was happening and you finally remembered why you came here in the first place. You hadn’t seen these people in ages, even though you spent every day with them for so many years. It was worth anything to meet them again. Maybe Shoto wouldn’t even come. Maybe he didn’t have time to do so. But of course that wasn’t the case and would never be the case.

When he walked in it felt like time stopped. He didn’t spot you immediately, he simply walked in and started greeting old friends like normal. As soon as he did sparks were flying... literally. A small flame appeared on his right side, right by his eye as they widened... not in shock, but because the memories were coming back so quickly. He looked like a movie... and when you heard him speak he sounded like a song. You hadn’t seen him all these years. Not once, you were too scared to do it. Now he’s right in front of you... he’s walking towards you. Why did this have to take such a long time? It felt like everything was in slowmotion.  “Hi.”, he said. “Hey.”, you answered. Izuku looked between the both of you, as if everything was normal... until he remembered what had happened. He was actually there, comforting you...

“Hey, you’ll be alright, Y/N.”, he said through the phone, “Do you want me to come over... I... uh... I can buy you ice cream?” “... that would be nice...”, you sniffled, after hours of sobbing. “Okay I’ll be right there.”

He had grown into a big brother figure for you. You were friends during highschool, when he was more of an awkward but nice guy. How he had managed to grow into such a confident person, you’ll never know... though you would really like to know that right about now.  “I’m gonna go ahead and excuse myself. I have to say hi to the others!”, Izuku walked away from you and your heart dropped to your knees. How could he? “You look good...”, Shoto said quietly and you finally looked back at him. He stood tall. He always had, but now it was more intimidating. “Thank you.”, you said, as if you hadn’t worn this dress in hope that you’d get some sort of reaction out of him, “You too...” What were you supposed to do? He was finally right in front of you... before you had so much to say but now your mouth was just dry... “Listen I-” “I’m-” You stopped and looked at each other before breaking out into a mild laughter. It wasn’t a laugh that made you bend over and slap your knee, it was more of a nervous laughter. But as soon as you got to take a breath in, when you then breathed out it felt as if you were breathing out all of that awkwardness. “Sorry, you go first.”, Shoto said quietly. “I’m really sorry... about what happened...”, you admitted. “It’s... it’s fine. It was years ago afterall.”, he smiled sadly, “How are you doing, Y/N?” When he said your name like that your heart skipped a beat, just like it did the first time he said your first name.

You were sitting on the floor of Shoto’s dorm room, trying to study. Emphasis on trying. You kept getting distracted by the smallest things and you really couldn’t help it, from the snow outside to him moving in the slightest. “Do you want to take a break?”, Shoto suddenly asked. “Sure.”, you hummed and put down your pencil. The two of you made your way to the kitchen to get yourself a break-snack. Which really just meant that you wanted to make tea. You got the tea that you wanted, green tea, and started boiling water. Shoto stayed by the counter and simply watched you. He never wanted tea when you made some, so you didn’t bother to ask. You didn’t know a lot about him and, though you wanted to know, you felt like it wasn’t time to ask yet. “Could you get me a cup, Todoroki?”, you asked, as the cups were put way too high up. He let out a hum and easily took down a cup for you. “Shoto.”, he said quietly. “What?” you turned to him, he was standing so close. “You can call me Shoto.”, he said calmly. “Alright!”, you nodded and tried your hardest to not get flustered, “Then... then you can call me Y/N.” “Okay... Y/N.”

“I’m doing fine.”, you answered, “Work has been hectic, but that’s expected-”, you paused as soon as you looked into his eyes. “No... I meant like... with that...”, he took a deep breath.  “As you said...”, you looked away from him again, “... it was years ago...” “Y/N, I-” There it was again, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom...”, you muttered and walked away as quickly as you could.

When you had been in there for a while you heard someone opening the door. He wouldn’t walk into the girls’ bathroom, would he? “Hey, Y/N? We know you’re in here.”, it was Mina! “Yeah, how are you feeling? We saw you with... yeah...”, and Ochako! “I’m fine.”, you walked out of the stall, “I just had to... get away for a while.” They hummed in response, you worked with Mina a lot since you were at the same agency. Mina immediately knew when something was off after your break up and called Ochako, so they knew everything. “You know what, Y/N?”, Mina puffed up her chest, “That was years ago, and yes it was tough but you’re tougher! So let’s go out there and enjoy ourselves!” “Yeah, we’re finally able to meet everyone again!”, Ochako grinned, “So let’s have fun, ‘kay?” “You’re right.”, you smiled.

From then on you simply enjoyed yourself, even though you did feel his eyes on you from time to time. Sometimes you’d look back, only to look away when he’d look at you.

The reunion ended pretty early, since most of you had work the next day and you really couldn’t be too tired for your line of work. You still had one thing to do while you were here.  After saying goodbye to your former classmates you walked towards the trees by the school. There was one specific tree that you wanted to go to, just so that you could get some closure. It was an old big tree, probably the biggest one there. In a moment of total instinct you rested your forehead against the bark and softly put your hands on the tree. Sure, it was weird but for some reason it just seemed right. This tree was the place where you’d made so many good memories... you just had to thank it at least once.

“You never really talk about yourself, Shoto...”, you muttered out of the blue. Shoto had his head in your lap as you played with his hair. It was so warm today so you decided to study outside, but you ended up like this instead of actually studying. “I guess I don’t.”, he looked up at you, “Do you want me to?” “I mean I don’t want to pry, that’s not what I meant!”, you laughed nervously, “... it just feels like you always listen and never get to talk.” “It’s always been like that, really.”, he shrugged. “Well, isn’t it... tiring?”, you asked, “Wouldn’t it feel like a weight off your shoulders to talk?” “I’ve never thought of it like that.”, he said, “... maybe you’re right. Is there something you want to know?” “Oh! I... um... sorry, I-”, you started babbling out apologies. Shoto grabbed your face softly and pulled you down to meet his face. You stared into his eyes in shock. He wasn’t usually this foreward, even if you had been dating for a while. “I’ll tell you one thing, Y/N.”, he whispered, “I don’t care if I have to listen or talk, as long as it’s with you.” Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed up his body slightly to meet you in the middle and kissed you for the first time.

The cherry blossoms had already bloomed, so it wasn’t as pretty as it was back then... but the tree still brought a smile to your lips. “I guess we thought about the same thing.”, someone said behind you. You turned around to meet his heterochromic eyes. A sad smile grazed your lips, it didn’t matter what had happened... you can’t forget what had happened between the two of you. Yes, it was over, but the time you had was magical. There was nowhere to run now, you just had to face him straight on. “It’s not that big of a surprise is it? It’s beautiful.”, you turned back to the tree, “... and it’s special...” “If you want me to leave, just say so.”, he sounded if he was ready to go. “No.”, you turned back around to him, “Please stay with me.” He looked at you for a while before nodding and walking up to the tree and sitting down with his back against the bark. You sat down next to him and put your head on his shoulder. It was a habit, but he didn’t seem to mind since he put his head on top of yours. “You never answered my question before.”, he whispered softly. “... I’m doing alright.”, you said honestly, “There are just a lot of memories coming back now and it’s... it’s scary.” “Tell me about it then, that used to help right?” “It did.”, you chuckled, “I’m not gonna lie, I have tried to move on for a while. But it’s hard when you really know me better than anyone.” “I get it...”, he nodded, “... but what do you have to lose? What if you just try?” “... but what if I realize that I can’t ever love like that again?” He was quiet. But it was nice. He smelled like he used to, it was comforting. Your heart started racing when he took your hand in his. “I’ve tried too...”, he admitted, “It didn’t work.” You turned towards him, as he did the same. You didn’t get a good look at him before... he had only slightly changed. Maybe he had a few more scars... bigger under-eye circles... it didn’t matter. It was him. And you couldn’t help it. You leaned foreward and kissed him. As soon as you did, he kissed back and brought you in closer by your waist. He still tasted like icy mint and his hands were still gentle. You got up on your knees, but the action was too quick and you ended up tumbling over him instead. “Sorry...”, you whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this here?”

You couldn’t believe that you were at his apartment after all these years. You didn’t see much, it was all mostly a blur, but you did see the new nice apartment complex and the fact that he still had his old furniture. While walking through the apartment the two of you stumbled over anything that was in the way because you never really broke the kiss at all. Maybe you had too much to drink before, or maybe he was making you spin the way that he had that night. Either way the rest was just a wonderful blur.

The next morning you woke up to the sun shining through the window. Shoto was sleeping soundly beside you. You wished you could stay but... this was too much, you had already over stepped by being here at all, let alone sleeping with him. Both of you were getting older, you couldn’t fool around like this anymore. Though you did wish you could keep the image of him like this in your mind. He was laying peacefully with his face on the pillow, his back was exposed as the covers weren’t fully covering him and his hair was ever so slightly messy. He looked like an angel... but maybe you were biased. You were about to leave the bed when you felt the bed shift. “Wait.”, Shoto said in the raspy voice he always had in the morning. “I’m sorry, Shoto.”, you shook your head, “I have to leave.” You got up and started putting on your clothes which were scattered across the floor. He got up next to you and quickly pulled on a pair of underwear before following after you. You went to what you assumed was his bathroom, which was correct, and washed your face. “Y/N, please. Just stay here for a while, we should talk.” “It’s bad enough that I’m here, Shoto. This is so stupid!”, you held back your tears, “We split, that should’ve been the end of it!” You walked over to the door and put on your shoes, ready to leave. “The worse decision I’ve ever made was letting you say goodbye, I’m not doing that again!”, he exclaimed. “Whether you let me or not, I’m going to leave.”, you couldn’t look at him, not even when he grabbed your hand. “Please, Y/N.”, he sighed, “I can’t stay away from you anymore.” “I want to go back to that... so bad...”, you sniffled. “Then please let me back in.”, he pleaded. “I would if I could.”, you assured him and he let go of your hand, “But I don’t trust myself enough yet.” You opened the door and stepped out of his apartment. He didn’t stop you or go after you. You heard a thud on the other side of the door, which you could only assume was him falling to the ground. You slapped your hand over your mouth to keep in the sobs. If you can’t get over him, how were you supposed to ever get over anything?

-

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[its-pronounced-quoassoint]

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 3

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter Features: YouTuber!Patton, Patton centric story line

This Chapter Warnings: crying, angst, mentions of dead characters, reluctantcy, sympathetic Remus

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post).

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply! 

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Chapter 3-Pink

Patton kept a diary. When he was younger he would stay up late at night, using pens to write in composition notebooks. Assigning different colors to different days of the week, doodling in the margins, dating every page in the top right corner, and taking time to think of a title for each day. At the bottom of every page Patton would rate how well the day was on a scale of one to five and doodle a little face that showed how he felt. 

Keeping a diary was one of the few constants in Patton's life. After so much change and heartbreak, holding on to something, as silly as diary keeping, made Patton’s time a little more enjoyable.

When he received his first phone, Patton decided that a digital diary would be more convenient. He downloaded a simple note taking app, and began writing about his day there. 

The advantage to a digital diary was he could write wherever he wanted. Patton sat on the bus to school, typing fervently. It was their first day back since the last attack and he had not gotten enough homework done as he would have liked. Patton was letting out some feelings onto his phone and listening to the chatter of the kids around him. 

Patton is very aware of the fact that many of them were staring at him in awe. Especially the middle schoolers. Typically his audience on YouTube was middle schoolers. He knew having a few million subscribers got him attention and Patton had accepted that attention as part of his everyday life. It meant nothing to him now. A sort of bitter exchange. He didn’t feel the nervousness he used to when people approached him for pictures. The right feelings he got when young minds randomly appeared next to him and wanted to ask about being a YouTuber. However, that also meant he didn’t get the rush of happiness when some small kid praised or thanked him. He didn’t really feel that delighted feeling of pride anymore. 

Patton typed on his phone until the bus pulled up to the high school. Patton stepped off the bus after almost tripping over several small kids in the bus isle. He began rolling up to the school, warm humid air hitting him. It had rained horribly the day before and him, along with several other fluffy haired people, were feeling the affects. 

Patton opened the doors for a few high schoolers behind him and walked in. Heading for his locker immediately. After gathering his things Patton began taking his bag to his first hour.

“Hey Pat.” The familiar voice of Naomi, one of his close friends, greeted him.

“Hey Mi.” Patton smiled at her, moving a little in the hall so she could walk next to him.

“How was break?” 

“Ugh, did not get any homework for Leed’s class done.” Patton rolled his eyes. “But, ya know, got some editing finished.”

“Well, I don’t think the teachers honesty expect us to have gotten anything done.” Naomi tried to soothe him. 

“Yeah.” Patton sighed. They stepped into their shared first hour and continued to talk. A few more friends walked in and began talking with them, but Patton dropped away from them quickly. 

He never felt particularly attached to the people in his school. It was hit or miss with people you talked to. Patton was very aware of his social standing as ‘the most popular person in high school’, but he attributed that to his YouTube channel’s success. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends. He certainly had people wanting to be his friend. However, it was never the type of connection that Patton would see on tv. No best friend sleepovers, skipping class together, eating cookies late at night while watching Netflix. Patton wasn’t proud of the fact that he didn’t have a close friend like that, but he figured he should take what he gets.

Besides, he still had friends.

Lunch was an easy time for Patton. He typically sat with Naomi in the library. Sure that’s not what one would expect from a popular socialite like Patton, but the cafeteria was simply too loud. Hectic and scary were adjectives Patton often described lunch as. He didn’t eat much at lunch either. He never really ate much. There wasn’t a lot of time to eat. 

Patton often spent his time listening to his friends’ problems, studying, doing something for the array of clubs he was in, or editing for YouTube. There wasn’t much time for anything else, but that was okay. Patton enjoyed doing all of those-besides studying-so it wasn’t like he missed anything. There was nothing to miss when he didn’t know of much else he could do.

Mondays were usually not the favorite day of the week for any student, never mind any person. However, they were Patton’s favorite. Why? Well, Mondays after school, Patton got to go down to the freshman biology teacher’s room and run the QSA at his school. He loved the QSA. He had been going since 8th grade, when he couldn’t technically go because he wasn’t in high school. 

However, he dedicated a lot of time to the QSA and had become the president of the club in junior year. He was elated to be in it and was able to get together a team to spread the word about it and set up fun activities. It was one of the only things about school that Patton documented in his YouTube videos.

Patton didn’t like to talk about school too much for fear of it interfering with him graduating, but he was able to take videos of everything that happened with QSA. Much to the delight of his viewers.

Patton sat anxiously in 6th hour, awaiting the final bell that meant he could head down to the club room. Sadly though, sixth hour was just getting under way, so he would have to wait.

“Welcome back to sixth hour!” Patton’s calc teacher, Mrs. Ryans began. “I know school only had been a few weeks in when the attacks hit, and it essentially feels like the next semester, but we’ll be doing a small project!”

The class cheered a little. Projects for her class were typically easier than usual class work. She would often pair up students to work on it together, making it all the easier on Patton. Usually Mrs. Ryans paired Patton with Logan, who was more than happy to help Patton on the project. Patton loved partnering with Logan, he was understanding of Patton’s schedule and never got frustrated with Patton’s inability to meet in order to work on the project. Though Patton had heard he was quite the opposite with other partners in different classes.

“So, I didn’t really have the time nor the care to make a list of partners, so, your table partners will do for this.” Mrs. Ryans sighed.

Patton met Logan’s eye with a disappointed look and shrugged. Logan returned the sentiment before looking toward Remus next to him. Logan smacked the snickering idiot.

Patton turned to his table partner Dee and gave him a warm smile that was met with a side smile, reserved for Patton alone. 

“Donnie can you pass out the papers?��� Mrs. Ryans asked.

“Sure!” Donnie smiled and stood, grabbing the stack of papers that explained the assignment.

“Mrs. Ryans! Dee and I need to be partners.” Kayley Holt said a few rows behind Patton. 

“Uh, no.” Mrs. Ryans trailed off giving Kayley a questioning look.

“But we have to be. We have co-dependency anxiety and we’re both super anxious without each other! We have to be partners.” Kayley demanded.

Patton looked over to Dee who held a blank expression rivaling Lady Gaga’s ‘poker face’. Patton could tell he was not happy with the arrangement Kayley was trying to pull.

“You know what Kayley, I know you’re lying to me about this so don’t even try and pull this stunt again, but fine, you and Dee can be partners. Just don’t whine when you two both get Cs on the assignment cause you didn’t work.” Mrs. Ryans pointed at Kayley. Then pointed at her table partner. “Roman, you’ll pair with Patton.”

Patton smiled over at Roman who dramatically smiled back. 

“This will be due on Friday and I expect it typed, nothing handwritten! Heck knows you people write in hieroglyphics.” Mrs. Ryans dismissively waved her hand. “You will have Thursday in class to work on it if you need but if you don’t you can just have this as a free hour.”

Patton received the paper and began reading over the project. Dee and Roman switched places and the two dove into the work. Dividing it between themselves and scheduling times to meet to work on it.

“Are you free tonight after QSA?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, you?” 

“Mhm. I don’t think Logan or Remus have anything going on either. We can all kinda work on it together at my place.” Roman turned to where Logan and Remus sat across the room. “Logan! Remus! Come here.” 

Logan and Remus turned to Roman who was waving them over enthusiastically. The two look at each other before Logan shrugged and began walking their way. Logan and Remus sat down across from Patton and Roman, the four began talking about going to the twins’ home after QSA to work on the project.

“Well what am I supposed to do while you three are in your club?”  Remus asked

“You can come if you want. We’re doing some stuff for the underclassmen for homecoming.” Patton told Remus.

“I though they called off Homecoming.” Roman looked at Pat.

“Well, they did,” Patton trailed off. “but the freshmen on the QSA group chat were so upset, I mean I couldn’t let them be so disappointed.” 

“What did you do? Pay ‘em off?” Remus whispered.

“What?! No!” Patton whispered back. Not fully knowing why he was whispering, so he stopped. “I just argued to the superintendent that they deserved a Homecoming.” 

“How? He never changes his mind.” Roman smiled.

“Well, I mean, I’m good at convincing people, I guess.” Patton shrugged. “But yeah, homecoming is back on.” 

“None of us go to homecoming though.” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah, but the freshmen and sophomores like going and some juniors go and I know I don’t have time to go, but they deserve some fun. The town’s ten pm curfew doesn’t exactly give any kids the chance to hang out with their friends like normal teenagers.” Patton explained.

“Well, it’s nice for you to do something for them. Having experiences with their friends, like homecoming, will make it all the easier to deal the trauma of the attacks.” Logan finally said.

“Thank you Logan.” Patton nodded. “Now, is that all settled. We just head to your place after QSA?”

“Yep.” Roman nodded.

Patton smiled at him and began texting his foster mother the plan. Class ended a while after that and the four began their walk to the science wing of the school. Heading to Mr. Travis’s-the QSA faculty advisor-room. The room was already full of kids from every grade. Eager freshmen were talking nervously to their friends while the other two seniors looked around commenting on how they were used to it by now. 

“Hey guys!” Patton said as he entered.

“Patton!” Jana, a sophomore, squeaked when he entered. “I passed the project!”

“I knew you would! You’ve gotta stop doubting yourself.” Patton congratulated her.

“I know, I know.” She giggled. “Camera?” Jana put out her hands expectantly.

“Here!” Patton walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out the camera he used for filiming. He handed it to Jana who giddily heded over to  tripod and began setting up eqquipment. "Okay everyone, before I begin with what we're doing today can we set up the tables into one long table?"

The group got up from their chairs, still chatting, and began arranging the tables the way Patton had asked. Once done helping, Patton walked to the 'head' of their make-shift table and sat down. Jana started up the cameras and sound and Patton began. 

"Homecoming is back on, which means another year of having to find a date, dress nice, and so on. So, what I’ve decided to do, is spend this week, next week, and however much longer making flower crowns.” Patton announced. “I know it’s a little childish, but pride flag flower crowns are so much fun to make and afterward you get really good at them”

“I love it.” Cami, one of the juniors said. 

“Thanks Cami.” Patton smiled. “Make some for yourself, make some for our friends, make pride flag ones, make any color ones, doesn’t matter, just use all the flowers. I printed out a bunch of instructions on different types of crowns and other jewelry you can make with the flowers. Just have fun with it!”

Mr. Travis entered the room with loads of flowers in his hand and his daughter trailing behind, also carrying many flowers. 

“Here we are.” He grunted, setting them down. 

“Thanks Mr. Travis.” Patton smiled. “Let’s get started!”

The club dispersed into groups and began making crowns, chatting with their friends, and goofing around. Patton was pulled over to a group of sophomores and freshmen who wanted to talk. 

He looked over to see Logan, Roman, and Remus talking quietly while making the crowns. Patton smiled, even Remus was making a pride flag flower crown. 

After some time he walked over to Logan, Roman, and Remus. The three stopped talking quickly and focused a little too intensely on the flower crowns. 

QSA ended far too quickly for Patton’s liking, but he and the three others left for Roman’s house soon. They talked the whole way, mainly Remus, and were very quickly entering the home. 

Patton and Roman went to the living room and lazily began talking about the project. Logan and Remus went to the dining room and Logan attempted to make progress while Remus threw Cheetos in the air and tried to catch them in his mouth. 

Patton looked around the house. It was huge. Large eggshell white walls and intimidating furnishings. It barely looked lived in. 

“Hey Roman,” Patton started, “can you point me to the bathroom?”

“Yeah sure, the closest one is just down that hallway.” Roman pointed to a dark hallway. “I’m pretty sure it’s on the right. You’ll find it.”

“Thanks.” Patton smiled. 

He got up and headed that way, not quite sure what he was doing. He didn’t need to go to the bathroom, but something about the house felt so familiar. He had to find out why. Why did being in the home feel off yet inviting. It didn’t make any sense. Patton has always been good at feelings. Knowing what they are in him and observing them in others. This though, this was different. 

Patton walked down the hallway toward a door, feeling the pull even more intensely. Every step was pulling him forward. Why was it so familiar?

Patton opened the door and stepped into an extremely dark room. Patton’s eyes could barely adjust. Without realizing it he had entered the room and was running his hand along the objects in the room. The feeling grew to an overwhelming point and Patton tried to pull away and go back to the living room, but to no avail. Then something grabbed him. It wrapped around his wrist and tightened into a perfect fit. Patton was finally able to pull his hand back and looked at the thing on his wrist. 

A bracelet. Glowing pink and swirling around his wrist. 

Patton screamed. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Patton continued. He just stared at the bracelet in horror trying to get it off him as fast as possible. 

Patton distantly heard Logan call his name. Pounding footsteps headed his way and the lights around him were flipped on.

Patton barely noticed, he just focused on tearing the bracelet off of him. 

“Patton?!” Logan yelled for his attention. 

“Get it off, get it off, oh please just get this thing off of me.” Patton cried out. 

“What?” Roman started, but stopped when Patton turned and showed them the bracelet. “Oh.”

“Please just get it off, please, please,” Patton suddenly stopped, staring at Remus. “You-you’re-“

“Remus!“ Roman chided, noticing the mace he had in his hand.

“What? We didn’t know why Patton was screaming! It could have been a minion.”

“Jeez Remus.” Roman shook his head. 

“You’re the Green Ranger?” Patton asked shakily. “Which one are you Logan?”

“I-uh blue.” Logan hurried out an answer. 

“Logan! You can’t just tell every pretty boy you’re the Blue Ranger!” Roman smacked Logan on the shoulder.

“I’m not!” Logan’s face turned a bright red.

“Oh this is a disaster.” Roman sighed.

“I know.” Logan looked away.

“Look, I don’t care! I won’t tell anyone, I promise! You can trust me! Just please get this off of me! I don’t want to be a Ranger please!” Patton begged.

“Patton-“

“Can you take this off or not?” Patton asked, tears welling in his eyes. 

“I-uh-no.” Logan stuttered. “We don’t know how.”

“Fine.” Patton stood and looked at Roman. His expression hard as tears began falling ever so slightly. “I need to borrow your car.”

“What?” Roman asked startled.

“I need to borrow your car, drive to Thomas, and get him to pull this horrible thing off my wrist.” Patton said, his voice steady.

“Patton we-“

“Please.” Patton broke down into a quiet sob. “Please just let me-“

“We’ll drive you. It’s unsafe to drive when you’re upset like this.” Logan said quickly. “Roman let’s go.”

“Ok-okay.” Roman turned and headed out of the room.

The four quickly ran out of the house and into a car. Roman started it up and began driving. Remus sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking at Patton nervously. Logan and Patton sat in the back, Patton silently crying into Logan’s chest. Logan wrapped an arm around Patton’s shoulders, holding him soothingly.

They pulled up to Thomas’s house and frantically ran to the front door.

“Thomas! Thomas! We need you open up!” Roman knocked on the door loudly.

The door swung open and a little kid stood there worried. “What’s going on?”

“Emile! Where’s your dad?” Roman asked frantically. 

“Coming coming! What is it?! Is someone hurt! What happened?” Thomas asked. He looked at the four. 

Remus and Roman stood awkwardly on the small porch. And a little ways behind them, Logan held a crying Patton.

“Wha-“ Thomas stopped himself. “Patton?”

“Thomas!!” Patton pulled away from Logan and raced to Thomas. He fell into Thomas’s arms and sobbed harder.

“Oh Pat. It’s okay I-I know.” Thomas tried soothing him. “Come on lets all go inside.”

Thomas led the four inside. Patton collapsed on the couch and looked around, drying his tears.

“Thomas, get it off of me.” Patton started shakily.

“Patton, you know that’s not how it works.”

“I don’t care. It needs to come off. I’m not breaking my last promise with Talyn. I won’t do it.” Patton shook his head. Once again grabbing at the bracelet and trying to pull it off.

Emile put a hand on Patton’s bracelet to stop him from tanking at it. 

“Patton, you know Talyn would be proud of you no matter what. They knew that it wasn’t a choice you got to make. You were chosen. They would be so proud to know you’re the next Pink Ranger.” Thomas smiled.

“No!” Patton’s tears started up yet again. “I promised! I said I would never! I told them I would never become a Ranger. It’s dangerous and heartbreaking and it tore Talyn away from me! It took Joan and Talyn from me! It took them both and it almost took you!”

“Patton, I know.” Thomas sighed, stepping closer to Patton who only pulled away. 

Roman, Remus, and Logan stood in the kitchen eyeing the scene and trying to understand whatever was going on. 

“I can’t do this. I won’t do this.” Patton stated firmly. 

“Patton, don’t you remember when you were younger and all you wanted to be was a Ranger? You were so excited to be everything Talyn was and more.”

“I was young. And stupid. And I still am. I’m not ready for this. Talyn didn’t want this.”

“Talyn knew that this would happen. They knew you would be Ranger. It was simply your destiny. You know that. We all knew that.” Thomas sighed. “Talyn just didn’t want you to feel pressured. Talyn knew the risks and didn’t want you to go through the pain.”

“If it weren’t for the morphers, Talyn, and Joan, and Valerie, and Terrence, and Dominic would all still be here! You wouldn’t have been the only Ranger for the past ten years! You wouldn’t be doing this on your own.” Patton cried. 

“Pat-“

“Thomas, please just get it off of me.” Patton held out his wrist to Thomas. “Please. I can’t do this, please.”

"Patton. I-I-"

"Pat, please." Emile took Patton's jaw in his hand. "I know it hurts, but think about what you're doing. You know you can't take it off. Once it's on you, you can't just take the morpher off. It's there and there's nothing you can do. So, what you need to do, is live up to that amazing loving person the morpher chose. The morpher chose you because you bring heart and care and compassion to the team. You're made for this role and I know you can do it. Though you may not feel it now, it's still there."

"Emile-“

“When we were so much younger do you remember pretending to be Rangers together. You were always the brave Pink Ranger, swooping in your save me from the Dragon Witch. You just wanted to help me. You’ve always wanted to be a Ranger and you’ve always wanted to help people. Please don’t give up on that. You know for a fact Talyn only said that to try and keep you safe. No matter what you’ve promised them, or Joan, or Megan, you want to do this.” Emile stopped him. “You don’t have to be afraid. You’ve got a team by your side.”

They sat in silence. Patton’s tears had dried on his face and he desperately tried to talk but found no sound coming out. His chest heaved and ached. Patton could only squeeze Emile’s hand in his and sniffle.

“I’m sorry.” Patton squeaked. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. Pat of course you’d feel this way. No one expects you to immediately want to be a Ranger. Especially after what happened with Talyn. No one blames you for feeling this way.” Thomas assured him.

“Thank you, I-I know. I know it’s okay. It just still doesn’t feel that way. It doesn’t feel-feel-feel-“

“I’m sure it doesn’t. But it’s okay.” Emile whispered. 

Patton collapsed into Emile, just crying into the smaller boy. “It hurts so bad.”

Emile nodded and ran a soothing hand through Patton’s hair. As Patton continued trying to control his sobbing he felt more arms wrap around him. He shifted to see Roman, Remus, and Logan holding him gently, too gently. It was like they though one squeeze would break Patton in half. 

“You’re going to be the best Pink Ranger to ever fight.” Roman told him.

“Thank you I-I’m okay.” Patton smiled sweetly at the boys hugging him.

They pulled away, but stayed close. 

“I’m going to be okay.” Patton said a little shakily but calm. 

I’m ready. Patton wrote late that night in his diary. I’m going to be okay. 

Taglist:

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors@maddarc@pheonix-inside-reblogs@thisismysanderssidesblog@almost-all-my-ships-are-gay@mostpeopleannoyme@the-smol-est@i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake@nadja-chamack16@too-bi-too-function

[grandtheftstarship]

Painted Roses (Barista!Jim Kirk x Artist!Fem!Reader) [Request!]

“So, Jim is a barista in a coffe shop /he could be the owner too, but it's not that important / and the reader always goes there but she never drinks coffee just hot chocolate or sometimes tea. She's an artist and she always goes there and sits there for hours just drawing people in her sketchbook. Sometimes she's all covered in paint. /continuing/... And she somehow caught Jims attention and one time she forgets about time and sits there all day, Jim brings her refills time to time maybe some desserts to eat because she kinda forgots... Until Jim tells them that it's closing time, but they start a conversation an they sit there for a litte while longer... ||Sorry for the long ask, if you don't want to do it, it's fine, still love ya! 💕 Have a nice day ❤️” - @rh-girlonfire

I love this request SOOOOOOOOOO much!!! Mainly because I like to think of myself of an artist :) I can never get enough of coffee shop AUs! Please enjoy :) Love you too ❤︎

Also THANK YOU ALL FOR FOLLOWING ME!!! I just reached 100 and even though it’s a small milestone it still means a lot to me :) Thank you all for supporting me and what I love to do! Love you all ❤︎

P.S- I just wanted to let you all know that I see it when you guys comment and reblog! I just can’t respond because this is a secondary blog, so it won’t come up as me :( Just know that I see you, and I appreciate you!!! Every time someone comments or reblogs it makes me so happy :) Did I mention that I love y’all?

Word Count: 2157 Warnings: mega fluff, I’m pretty sure this is my favorite thing I’ve ever written ever, swearing, keep a lookout for the Office reference ;)

Take a shot every time I use the word sometimes lol

You didn’t know when you first started coming to the quaint little coffee shop on the corner of your block, and you didn’t know when you started making a habit out of it. Once or twice a month turned into several times a week, and then suddenly you were there for several hours a day to work on your projects. You found the atmosphere warm and inviting, as opposed to your cramped apartment down the street that you could barely afford.

 Yes, you were a starving artist. But that didn’t make your art any less meaningful. Ever since the first day you had been coming, you had your table. It was the smaller booth in the corner by one of the large windows overlooking the park and the busy street. It was also dotted with paint marks, but the owner didn’t seem to mind. 

It was the barista, though, that caught your eye. Every single day, he was there ready with one of your usuals. You never drank coffee, it was usually tea or hot chocolate. He usually chose for you, but you didn’t mind. Whatever he made tasted delicious. You always ordered ‘for here’, enjoying the cute, white mugs with the pretty art he made with the cream in your hot chocolate or with the honey in your tea. It was different every day, sometimes a flower, or a cute face, and one time he made an elaborate heart with swirls and sprinkles which made you blush as you thanked him. 

On days you were really working hard, you were there from opening to closing now and again, he would bring you refills and sometimes small deserts. You would pull your headphones back and thank him, smiling as he would rub the back of his neck, bashful. You thought it was cute.

In fact, you thought he was cute all the time. On days you weren’t really working on big pieces you would just pull out your sketchbook and draw the people around you, but mainly it was him, dressed in his black apron and a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You would draw him from various angles; walking with the serving platters filling both his hands, smiling at a customer, washing things in the sink: rough sketches of him filled many pages in your book. 

Other days, you would decide to paint outside in the park in the morning to get practice with realistic nature, get covered in paint, and then head over to the coffee shop for your afternoon drink. It was on these days that you felt the most insecure since you were in your painting overalls and your old vintage Queen T-shirt underneath and you were covered in various colors and stages of dried paint. There was even paint in your hair or on your face sometimes, and the barista (who, after you finally took notice of his nametag, was named Jim) would kindly point it out to you. You would get red in the face and frantically try to wipe it off, getting more paint on your already paint-splattered hands; it was all just a mess. 

Today was not one of those days, though; today you were working in your sketchbook, doodling and working on drawing people. You came in early, some twenty minutes after they had opened. Jim was there as you walked in, beaming as you walked up to the counter. 

“Hey,” he greeted, pushing a mug full of steaming cocoa up to you. 

You peeled your headphones back to rest on your neck as you pulled out some wrinkled dollar bills. You frowned. You didn’t realize how low you had been getting on money and you knew exactly where it had all been going. Nevertheless, you put a smile on your face and slid the money across the counter to him. 

“Hey,” you returned the hello, lifting the mug from the counter. “What’s my drink of the day today?”

“Well, we just got some new teas in so I thought I fix one up for you,” he replied. “This one is Chamomile Citrus, with three swirls of honey just how you like it.”

You smiled, pink dusting your cheeks. “Thanks, Jim.”

Your blush deepened as his face reddened up at the sound of his name coming from your lips. It was the first time you had ever called him by name, and you felt like he liked it. He did. 

You moved away before he could say anything else, heading over to your table and settling in. You pulled your headphones on and unpacked your backpack, flipping your sketchbook open to the next blank page and getting started. 

                                                    _______________

Jim didn’t know when he first started noticing her. Maybe it was when she first started coming in with paint splattered all over her overalls, maybe it was when he first saw her set out her paints. He didn’t really care, all that mattered was that he noticed her now. 

He had never been so captivated by someone like he was by her, his typical pulled-together demeanor was thrown out the window when she entered the shop and when she smiled all of his insides turned to mush. He didn’t even know her name. 

So, in order to capture her attention, he started writing down her orders for future reference, such as how much whipped cream she liked on her hot cocoa, or how much honey she preferred in her tea. There was one thing he knew for sure; no coffee. 

He figured out that she was pretty lenient when it came to her orders, so he started making them ahead of time. He knew that she would be in almost every day, so he made them when he had a free minute. He even started practicing latte art on other customers’ orders to try and impress her. He felt like she enjoyed it. She did.  

He would never forget the time the flower he meant to do on her hot chocolate one time morphed into a heart that actually looked pretty good so he decided to just go for it. Her face was exactly what he wanted, her cute cheeks turning a soft pink and her thank you coming out a bit quieter. 

He couldn’t deny the fact that he was attracted to her. He had been with plenty of girls, but it was different this time. His palms would get sweaty when he saw her come in and butterflies would spring up in his stomach when she thanked him for whatever thing he had brought her. 

He caught himself staring at her sometimes when hours were slow, noting how her bottom lip got caught in her teeth as she concentrated, and how that one strand of [h/c] hair fell into her eyes every so often and how she would blow it out of her face and keep working. He was mesmerized by it all. The only problem was that he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with those feelings. 

There wasn’t exactly an outlet for him to let them out through and he didn’t want to sleep with other girls, so he kept them in a little jar in the back of his mind. When he lied alone at night in the small apartment above the shop (that the owner, Leonard, had graciously let him stay in), he would let them out and let himself feel in full throttle. Sometimes it was a lot to handle.

He didn’t realize how much he felt for her until she came in only a few minutes after he opened with a large canvas. She didn’t go to the counter right away since her hands were full, so Jim came to her. He set her iced tea on the table out of the way, humming as she thanked him. 

He wiped his sweaty hands on his apron as he walked away, only then understanding what he had gotten himself into.

                                             _______________

You had never been there this long. You barely noticed the time passing as you painted, concentrating hard on the details. You hadn’t even realized that you had started painting the cafe storefront until you started mixing the paint. You decided to just go with it. 

Jim brought you little pastries and refills from time to time, making sure you wouldn’t be disturbed. Even he didn’t disturb you, letting you enjoy your time listening to [your favorite band] and just paint to your little heart’s content.

That was, until closing time rolled around. 

You didn’t know that you had been there for that long until Jim tapped your shoulder and you jumped, like, three feet in the air. 

You yanked back your headphones and smacked him in the arm. 

“You scared me!” you gasped. He chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, but...” He waved his arm at the empty floor. 

“Oh...” you sighed in disappointment. You had really wanted to finish your project before the day was over. 

“I mean... if you want to stay I could close up shop and we can talk or something while you finish...?” he asked it like a question and a smile spread across your face at his flustered expression. 

“Sure,” You replied. “You got an aux cord?”

He nodded, leading you behind the counter and letting you plug your phone in and shuffle your playlist. 

“Wanna help me?” he asked, beckoning you over to the counter.

“With what?” you wondered, walking over.

“With the drinks,” he picked up the box of your favorite tea. “Tea sound good?”

You nodded, grinning. He showed you how to mix the two teas together and how he made honey flowers to float on top of the steaming mug before they dissolved into the hot drink. He fixed himself one before shutting off all the lights besides the one above your table and sat in the booth across from you that had gone unused for so long.

Your music played softly in the background as you resumed painting, Jim watching your brush intently. 

You looked up sharply, catching him off guard. “Wanna play A Question Game?”

“A question game?” Jim repeated, bemused.

“Yeah, like where we ask each other random questions to get to know each other better.”

“Is this what you do on all of your first dates?” he smirked. 

“What’s a first date without the basics?” you mirrored his expression. “You go first.”

“What’s your name?” he questioned.

“[y/n],” you replied, not looking up. “[y/n] [l/n].”

He let your name roll around his mind, liking the feel of it. “Your turn.”

“What’s your last name?” you glanced at him, a smile playing on your lips.

“Kirk,” he responded. “James T. Kirk.”

You looked up quickly. “Your real name is James?”

“What did you think it was?” he chuckled. “Jimothy?”

You laughed, enjoying the reference. Jim’s eyes bore into yours. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before,” he said, a little quieter. “You should do it more often.”

You sent him a knowing smile. “Next question, Kirk.”

The game went on like that for at least another hour or so, basic questions like favorite colors, birthdays, favorite shows, hometowns, etcetera etcetera. You learned that Jim’s favorite color was purple, his birthday was on March 22, and he was from Rivertown Iowa.

“I think I’m finished,” you said suddenly, wiping your paintbrush off on a paper towel and putting it in the water.

“Oh yeah?” Jim stood. “Let’s see it.”

You propped it up and turned to look at it, pride flooding your senses. 

“Wow,” he breathed. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you,” you said shyly, cleaning up your things and putting them back into your backpack. “Well, I really should be going.”

You started to open your wallet to pay for the food, but Jim stopped you by putting his hand over yours. Heat blew up in your cheeks, as you met his gaze. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes flicking down to the painting. “If you want, you can pay by letting me hang that on the wall.”

You eyes blew open wide. “Seriously? You want my art on your wall?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I really do.”

You stared back into his blue eyes and let him close the distance between you, liking the feeling of his smooth lips against yours. He pulled away first, stomach flipping at the sight of your eyes still closed. They opened slowly and you smiled up at him. 

“Second date?” he asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

You giggled, raising your hand up to boop his nose.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pecking his lips before pulling out of his embrace. You picked up your backpack and slung it over your shoulder, holding your headphones. “See you tomorrow?”

“Same time same place,” he grinned as you smiled and waved as you left, pulling your headphones over your ears and putting your hands in your pockets as you started walking down the street to your apartment. 

Both of you thinking about what a wonderful day you had.

[spooky-scary-imagines]

the scream boys having a shy but creative s/o that loves to paint?? meets ghostface via call and when they ask for their fave film (horrors/slashers) they answer all the questions right??

Scream Boys with a shy and creative s/o:

Billy:

Billy had seen you around school in the past, though you ran in different circles. You mostly stayed out of the way of everyone else, always holed up in the art room or quietly doodling in class. He was honestly getting a little curious about you, which is why he’s a little disappointed when Stu suggests you be the next kill. When he starts the call he’s shocked that you could figure out all the right answers, even on the trick questions. Guess that quiet act was hiding something interesting.  He goes around and tell Stu that they should call this one off, it takes a bit of convincing but he agrees. The next day at school, you’re surprised to see Billy Loomis waiting for you at your locker and saying he wants to walk you to class.

He doesn’t always understand your shyness, he thinks you’re great and knows everyone else would agree. You’ll have to explain that you just don’t want to be the center of attention most of the time. He’s so embarrassing sometimes and is super affectionate even when other people are around. He’s possessive and doesn’t give a damn about making a scene. This can lead to some painfully awkward moments, when you pretty much have to beg him not to go off on someone that’s bugging you, because that’d just make things 100 times worse. School rules against PDA? Billy doesn’t know them. You’ve got to draw a clear line in the sand about how comfortable you are with it, cause Billy would love to just kiss every inch of you no matter when or where.

As far as art goes, Billy doesn’t know much about painting, but he does know he thinks your’s are amazing. He loves all the different you can do with the colors and lighting. While he’s not much for 2-D physical art, he has a somewhat, hidden passion for cinematography, which helps him understand more when you talk to him about things like color theory. While your, mediums may be very different. The soul’s of artist’s know each other.

Stu:

It’s not surprising you and Stu hadn’t previously run into each other much at school. He was always out there, either throwing a party or playing the resident class clown, while you focused on school and art in your free time. He’d seen you in the halls before and thought you were kinda cute. But then he wouldn’t see you again for awhile and he figured he probably wasn’t your type anyway, so he dropped and forgot about it. When he picked you out for the next Ghostface victim, it was mostly random. He’d completely forgotten why the name was familiar until he watched you answer the phone. Imagine his surprise when you manage to get all the questions right. Who knew the shy, quiet kid could be so cool! He met Billy halfway and they agreed to call off the killing last-minute. The next day at school, you’re walking to your next class, and you feel and arm sling itself across your shoulders. Your brain short-circuits a bit as you look up to see that said arm belongs to Stu Macher, one of the craziest and more popular boys in school. Though that anxiety faded when he dropped the cheesiest pick-up line you’ve ever heard, causing you both to laugh your way to your next class.

You and Stu are very much “opposites attract.” There is not a shy bone in his body, and while he cares about you sometimes he forgets that not everyone is aggressively social. He’s always trying to include you in things, and his heart is in the right place but it’s just not always your scene. It does kind of come in handy because you never have to worry about being too embarrassed to say something. This boy has no shame and is naturally charismatic. Though he is like Billy in the way that he’s a total horn-dog and over-the-top mushy even when people are around. He just thinks you’re adorable when you’re all flustered and embarrassed. On the bright side, he’s pretty good at reading people so he knows when you really need a break and respects that sometimes you need peace and quiet, even if that means him giving you alone time

He loves seeing your new paintings and he likes to watch you work your magic over canvas. He’s super proud of it too. Even when you’re not around, Stu’s always showing people pictures of things you’ve made and crowing about how talented and hardworking you are. He doesn’t really get it from analytical perspective, but he knows he digs it and will try and always be encouraging. As for himself, he’s not an artist in any traditional sense of the word. He thinks the what he and Billy do is a kind of art in its own right, and boy can he get creative with that. But he doesn’t know how much you’d like to hear about that, and you certainly can’t turn it into Art class.

[ilovemygaydad]

Friends in Dark Places [ch 8]

pairing: eventual moxiety, eventual logince, background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit

WARNINGS: worry, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, food mentions, eating, rants about nutrition, boredom, logan being a mother hen, possibly something else

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter@band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: so i have to repost all of these in a different format! yay fucking me!!!! please consider reblogging these if you’re a fan of this series because it’s all fucked up now

first - previous - next - companions

consider buying me a coffee (please)

-

Virgil

Sent at 11:30 am

um, hey pat. where do you guys sit for lunch?

Virgil stood awkwardly at the side of the cafeteria trying to scan the crowd for familiar flashes of blue, but didn’t see anyone who even slightly resembled Patton. He’d barely made it through advisement and second block in one piece; his teachers berated him with questions on where he’d been and, consequently, how he’d gotten into the hospital. He was anxious to see his friend.

“Hey, Virgil!” a voice cheerily said behind him. Virgil whipped around and found Roman and Logan standing with expectant faces. It was only now that he saw how vastly different their heights were.

“Oh my god, you guys scared the shit out of me! A little warning would be appreciated next time.” Virgil used his lunch tray to angrily gesture at the pair of friends.

Logan pursed his lips. “We apologize, Virgil. Patton told us to look for you once we’d gotten to the cafeteria so that you wouldn’t get lost, but you were obviously faster than us. We’ll show you to the table.” Logan led him to a lunch table in the far corner, away from all of the commotion.

“Virge! Are you feeling better?” Pat greeted as they walked up. He cleared a space beside himself for Virgil, while Logan and Roman sat across from them.

“Um, I guess.” Virgil slid his tray onto the table and awkwardly maneuvered himself so he was sitting on the bench.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?” Logan questioned, concern flashing on his face. Virgil opened his mouth to reply, but Patton spoke up instead.

“He’s had a kinda bad day since he missed so much school last week, Lo. Virge’s totally okay health-wise, so don’t worry,” Patton assured, patting Virgil on the head. The receiver of the pat groaned softly, but he still gave a small smile to his friend. Patton just had this aura that made Virgil feel calm.

“Well, I hope your day gets better, Halloween Town,” Roman commented as he took a bite of his sandwich, careful not smudge any of his lipstick.

“Additional affirmation.” 

Virgil just nodded at their sentiments and stirred the cream and tan gloop on his tray. It was actually his favorite school lunch: mashed potatoes with turkey and gravy. However, just because it was his favorite, that didn’t mean it didn’t look (nor smell, sometimes) like hot vomit. He stabbed the soupy meal and took a bite. When Virgil looked up from his food, he found the other three staring at him.

“Um… What’s up, guys?” He asked, suddenly self conscious. A beat passed before Roman spoke.

“You… electively eat that stuff?” The dramatic teen pointed at the wilted lettuce and mashed potatoes with disgust.

Virgil nodded slowly. “Yeah? I mean, I don’t usually have the stuff to make my own lunch, and I’ve been eating school lunches for the past eleven-ish years, so I’m mostly desensitized to it. It’s fucking gross, but it’s food at least.” He punctuated his point by taking another bite of the glop. Logan paled.

“That cannot have any nutritional value. It’s all starches and fake meat; there’s barely any protein in the meat substitute they use because it’s ‘much cheaper’ that way! I mean, it’s practically criminal to be feeding that to children, especially since they need all of the nutrition they can get to grow.” Logan ran his hands through his hair in distress and dug around in his paper lunch bag. “Here! Please just eat some soup with real meat.”

Virgil hesitantly took the blue and black thermos and unscrewed the lid. Inside there was a pretty decent amount of what looked like chicken noodle soup. “Uh, thanks, Logan. But I don’t have-”

Lo held out a plastic spoon. Ah. Virgil took that as well and began to eat. It was way better than the lunch he’d bought. He idly listened to the others as they talked about their classes and what they planned on doing after school. He heard something about maybe going to a park, but Virgil wasn’t really sure if they meant a playground or one where you could bike around and go swimming.

“So what do you think, Virge?” Patton asked, making him jump.

“What do I think about what?” He, admittedly, had stopped listening a while ago and had ended up just drinking from his water bottle and staring at his lunch tray.

“Would you like to go to a party at the Westview park tonight? A few of our friends thought of a rather fantastic idea where they transform the picnic area into a mystical wonderland, and we all can have dinner together,” Roman explained, using vivid hand gestures as he spoke. At one point, he almost flung his hand straight into Logan’s face.

Virgil scrunched up his nose, weighing the pros and cons. “I dunno, guys. I don’t know any of your friends. Wouldn’t I just be intruding on your fun?”

“Of course you wouldn’t, kiddo! I’m sure Valerie and Jo and everyone else would love to meet you! Especially Talyn. They have a very similar style to you.” Patton’s voice was encouraging, but Virgil still wasn’t sure.

“Let me think about it for a bit. I’ll let you know tonight.” He got up to dump his tray, arriving back to the table just as the lunch bell rang. The four friends said their goodbyes and went to class.

—

The rest of the day passed pretty painlessly. Virgil finished all of his homework in class with tons extra time to spare. He texted Patton to stop his boredom.

Virgil

Read at 1:10 pm

pat I finished all of my homework what should i do?

Patton

Delivered at 1:11 pm

You could do some doodling! That’s always a fun pastime for me when I’m bored in class.

Virgil looked down at his papers, which were filled with designs for letterheads for Pat, Logan, and Roman.

Virgil

Read at 1:13 pm

uhhhh yeah i kinda already filled up three pages with doodles

Patton

Delivered at 1:13 pm

Okay, well, are you listening to music?

Virgil

Read at 1:14 pm

yeah i’m listening to my playlist. any other ideas

Patton

Delivered at 1:16 pm

…doodle some more?

Virgil

Read at 1:17 pm

yeah okay i’ll try that again, pat :)

—

Later that evening, after Logan had dropped them off at Patton’s house, Virgil and Pat were lounging on the black comforter in the former’s bedroom, listening to music and helping each other with various things for school. Patton was still extremely confused about physics.

“Alright. You got these force and acceleration questions perfectly fine, but I don’t think these friction questions are quite right,” Virgil pointed out the minor flaws in the calculations with a pencil before walking his friend through the problem step by step.

“Ohhhhhhh. That makes a lot more sense.” Pat looked over the paper and flipped his notebook shut, clearly done with homework for the day. “So, have you thought about the party at all?”

Virgil sighed. He’d hoped Patton would’ve forgotten that they’d invited him to come along so he wouldn’t have to disappoint him. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

Patton’s face fell ever so slightly, though he still had a smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. We just thought you might enjoy it. Logan’s going to be picking me up soon, so I should probably start getting ready.” He stood up and began to head for the bedroom door.

“Actually, I would like to go,” Virgil rushed before he could even think about what he was saying. He really needed better self control.

“Really? That’s awesome! You don’t have to dress up, but we’re having a bit of a fantasy theme, so you can do whatever you’d like with that. I’m just going to put some glitter in my hair.” Virgil perked up at the idea of dressing up.

“Um, Pat, if you want me to do some makeup on you, I can. I’m not that great, but I can put some glittery eyeshadow and stuff on your face,” he offered, already planning what he’d do for himself.

“That’d be great, kiddo! I’ll be right back; I want to grab a different sweater.” When Patton returned, he was wearing a black jumper with little shimmery strands of thread woven into it. He truly looked magical.

Virgil rounded up the few pieces of makeup that’d been taken from his house and sat Pat at the end of his bed, swinging his desk chair around and sitting in front of his friend. He first applied eye primer and then began to pat on different glittery shades of purple and blue and smoking them out with a little bit of black. Then he applied the same shadows under Patton’s eyes and gave him just a bit of mascara (Patton wouldn’t sit still for that part, and Virgil just gave up on trying). He dusted a bunch of white shimmery eyeshadow to the highlight points and swiped deep blue lipstick onto his lips.

Virgil leaned back to admire his work. “Pat, you look absolutely glittery.” A smile spread across his friend’s face as he began to bounce lightly on the bed

“LetmeseeletmeseeVirgilletmesee!” Patton squealed. Virgil obliged, handing him a little compact mirror and as Pat looked in awe at himself.

“Are you going to do yourself next? Oooo, can I watch?” Patton inquired, looking more excited than ever. Virgil nodded and began to apply makeup to himself. He chose a darker look, applying deep purple and black to his eyes and expertly drawing a sharp wing with eyeliner. His lips were colored with a matching purple and he swiped some glittery lavender highlighter on his cheekbones. Raising his eyebrows, Virgil looked at Pat for his opinion.

“Virgilohmygoodnessyoulookabsolutelyfantastic!” Patton held his hands over his face in a childish but sweet gesture.

“Aww, thanks, Pat.” Virgil smiled brightly and stood up, padding his way to where he’d thrown all of his shoes, and chose a pair of black high tops that had secret heels in them. It was just the little touch of femininity that his outfit needed to tie everything together. He slipped on a black beanie that he’d also thrown into the shoe pile and sat back down beside the still-gawking Patton.

“You good, dude? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Virgil commented with a tiny smirk. Patton aggressively threw his arms around Virgil, tackling him onto the bed.

“I’M JUST SO PROUD OF YOU! YOU LOOK SO CONFIDENT, AND I’M PROUD OF THAT!” Virgil laughed and awkwardly tried to return the hug-tackle.

“Okay, Patton. I get it. Now can you please stop half-laying on top of me?” Patton just hugged him harder.

next

[turtle0verl0rd]

The Paint On Our Skin

Soulmate AU where whatever your soulmate writes on their skin appears on your skin. This applies to makeup, marker, paint, nail polish and I’m also throwing dye into the mix

In this fanfic I follow the headcanon that both Walker and Andi are pansexual, Amber is lesbian, Buffy and Marty are asexual, Jonah is bisexual, and Tyrus is canon king, and bexie ofc. Ambi crush. Gonah and Jandi if you squint hard.

@wandiarts I hope you like it! Happy belated birthday!

Andi had always adored her soulmate, although she didn't truly know them. Ever since a very young age, her soulmate doodled the most fascinating little drawings all up her arm, which made Andi return the favor happily; although Andi always was more of a craft kind of girl. Some doodles faded while others stayed forever, which Andi comprehended her soulmate must have gotten some of them turned into more permanent tattoos, to the utter horror of her grandmother. 

Andi didn't bother with the gender of her soulmate. Everything her soulmate did would give off an aura of intriguing, yet inexplicit, mystery. Her soulmate's doodles were never really gender-specific in any way, however, the presence of makeup across her face and the day her bangs were bleached expressed definite feminity. It made sense to them since Andi always admired their friend Amber in the way that surpassed the lines of platonic feelings, which lasted all the way up until Amber had left for college, where she then found her own soulmate. But if they turned out to be a boy, Andi wouldn't mind either, as she had a fair share of boys she liked too. Boy, girl, something out of the binary, none of it mattered to her. She didn't care who's arms she drew security in, as long as her heart found contentment in them.

"Thinking of your soulmate again Andiman?" Speaking of boys, there was her friend Jonah who smiled at her before sitting down with the company of their other friends: Gus, Cyrus, TJ, Buffy, and Marty. 

"Maybe a little," Andi said sheepishly. "I mean, you all found yours already, why can't I too?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find them soon." Cyrus beamed, holding her hand across the table comfortingly with his free hand, the other locked with TJ's. Cyrus had discovered his soulmate back in middle school when he wrote a reminder on his hand to pick up his order from the bakery and his soulmate met him there. Everybody was ecstatic for the two of them, although Buffy was hesitant at first regarding her teammate and her best friend being soulmates considering she and TJ had such a colorful history. But that was the past and they had since then mended their conflicts; with help of Cyrus' not-so-subtle meddling of course. 

"I mean at least you have a significant other." Buffy quirked an eyebrow with a laugh.

"Hey. You love me and you know it, 11.5." Marty cheered as he nudged Buffy's side.

Now Buffy was a rare case. She did indeed have a soulmate, but not in the typical sense. The doodles on her arm all showed up in gold, which she quickly decided was strange and after doing research discovered she was wound in a situation where her soulmate was drawn to her in a purely platonic sense. At first, she was distraught she would never experience love as Cyrus and Andi would, but she couldn't be any happier with Marty. So what if it wasn't romantic attraction, they loved each other just as strong.

"What got you thinking about your soulmate?" TJ questioned with a furrowing of his eyebrows.

"Well, I mean you guys aren't entirely helping the cause," Andi scoffed playfully with a head tilt to how TJ and Cyrus were cuddled up to each other closely. "They made more drawings today. Usually, that makes me happy but today it just made me miss them in some weird sense." Andi felt a pang in her chest. "Guys, am I going to be okay?" She said in a small voice of worry.

The group wore sympathetic smiles as they nodded, Jonah pulling her into a small side hug beside her. Her almond eyes watery as she wore a sad smile in response.

"You may be weird, but you're no different from any other teen our age, Andi." Buffy smiled at her.

"There's nothing wrong with you, absolutely nothing." Cyrus encouraged, squeezing her hand in assurance.

"Can I see it?" Gus shyly asked with care.

Andi wordlessly pulled up her sleeve to reveal a multitude of swirling colors up her arm. The tips of the swirls resembled miniature hearts. The group exhaled in awe as they gently traced the design with their fingertips.

"Okay, that's really nice." Marty chuckled.

"It's beautiful." Buffy breathed.

"They really are an artist," Jonah affirmed.

"Are you going to draw something back again?" Cyrus asked, not taking his eyes from the painted design.

"I want to, but I'm not sure what. I want it to be special this time." Andi admitted.

Cyrus squealed immediately in response. "Do I sense romance in the air?"

"This isn't a Hallmark movie, Underdog." TJ teased fondly. "But that does kinda give me an idea."

"Oh, that's dangerous," Buffy smirked.

"I'm serious, Driscoll." TJ rolled his eyes. "What if we used the art to communicate?"

Andi beamed at the idea, but then immediately inflated. "How did I not think of that? That's really good, TJ."

TJ smirked cockily. "Well, I mean- look at me."

"I don't get it." Jonah cocked his head in question, which made everyone burst into laughter.

"Good one man." Marty gave Jonah a thumbs up, making Jonah scratch his head.

Later that evening, the trio Cyrus had dubbed the 'Good Hair Crew' laid head to head illuminated by the fairy lights string above them. They were still attempting to brainstorm art ideas which would allow Andi to better know her soulmate. It wasn't the scarcity of ideas that delayed the ordeal, but instead Andi's ability to shoot them down.

"What if you drew two swans in the shape of a heart?" Cyrus proposed.

"Too cheesy." Andi scrunched up her nose.

"How about a Cherry Blossom Tree?" Buffy recommended.

"Too basic." Andi shook her head.

"Is your name with a hearted 'i' out of the question?" Cyrus considered.

Andi hummed. "Too simple."

"Okay, what about you as a cartoon, maybe holding a heart?" Buffy suggested.

"Too hard." Andi sighed.

"Are you sure it has to involve a heart?" Cyrus verified.

Andi groaned as she sat up. "I already told you, it's an unspoken rule the last doodle has to resemble the next."

"Sorry." Cyrus shrunk back into himself as he sat up, the curly hair girl beside him following suit. "We might have to reschedule this affair, if I don't get back soon, Sharon might think I was kidnapped and sent off to China."

"Sayonara, Cyrus," Buffy smirked as she made way for him to pass through the small shack. Although Andi quickly took into account Cyrus' clumsiness and the number of paintbrushes on the floor.

"Wait, Cy-"

It was too late. Cyrus had already stepped directly onto a paintbrush and slipped right into a desk of open paint, splattering paint directly onto the three of them. In most situations, Andi would be upset, but one glance at her friends and they were all bursting into infectious laughter, which somehow evolved into a breakout of a huge paint fight.

By the end of it, the trio was sprawled out, covered head-to-toe in tides of paint and laughing breathlessly in between worn out pants for air.

"We look like walking abstract art." Buffy pointed out in laughter.

"I kinda like it. You know what? I'm not washing it off just yet. TJ's gonna hate me." Cyrus giggled, knowing full well he could pour soup into the boy's lap and he would probably apologize to Cyrus.

"Me neither, Marty can deal with being bootleg C-3PO for awhile."

"Then it's settled." Andi grinned.

Andi had lain on her back, forming constellations in the popcorn on her bedroom ceiling in the dark as she tried to drift off to sleep. It hadn't been too late, but waiting for the paint to dry sure did kill some precious sleeping time. It was at this time Andi noticed cursive on her stomach in a pleasant yellow sharpie, the only place desirable place not covered in paint:

Next time you start a paint war, invite me :) -W

Andi audibly gasped as she reached for the nearest sharpie, a nice shade of Persian blue. Andi giggled as she wrote back on her stomach.

Shadyside Park. Tomorrow at high noon. Be there. -A

She went to cap the marker when a reply from her soulmate came moderately quickly.

I hope you're not kidding because I'm not when I say I will be there -W

Andi squealed as she traced the sentence over and over again. Overwhelmed with glee, she ran to her parents' room.

"MOM! DAD! LOOK!" Andi cheered, lifting her pajama shirt slightly with a radiant smile.

"Oh, Andi! This is amazing!" Her mother, Bex, praised as she read the inscriptions. "I'm so happy for you."

Bowie scratched his head as he asked the question they were all wondering themselves. "’W?’ What could that mean?"

"Bowie, It's probably the kid's name," Bex smirked fondly.

"Or maybe... it means something else."

"I doubt that." 

"If it helps any, I don't think I ever would have written them if Cyrus didn't spill my paints everywhere." Andi wondered aloud. Everyone glanced at each other with a glimmer in their eyes.

"The universe!" They all cheered in unison, pulled each other into a laughter-filled hug.

Andi stood in the park that following afternoon. She was starting to wonder if coming to the park in the middle of a school day was the best idea, but nonetheless there she stood, drumming her nervous nails against her side. Her soulmate had the same thought of painting their nails the color of Andi's sharpie color, so her right hand was mustard yellow while her left was the Persian blue she drew in.

Cyrus and Buffy were through the roof when Andi told them about how she and her soulmate were going to have their First Moment together, and as much as they were disappointed they couldn't be there for it, they understood how momentous this was. A First Moment was special. A First Moment was something you told your children. A First Moment was a memory you treasured in your heart up until the day you died. Andi heard her parent's own First Moment so many times she could probably relay the story in her sleep.

Andi looked up from her nails to lock eyes with a young boy standing a bit of distance away. She gasped as she noticed his bleached hair, just like hers, and the flood of painted color all across his skin. It was him, it was her soulmate.

Andi's eyes furiously searched to memorize every last stroke of color in the boy's eyes, brown suddenly never being the same, every shade suddenly bringing her a raw sense of belonging, like a home she felt she always knew.

"Hi." She breathed, her lungs feeling as if they were falling from her body.

"Hey." The boy responded, drawing closer to her. "I'm Walker."

"Andi." She blinked, delicately shaking his hand in greeting as electricity sounded through her fingertips, needing to be closer to him. 

He stepped closer to her and her eyes fluttered as she felt his warm, tingling breathes, although it could have easily been the growing blush upon her cheeks. And then, she felt a streak of wet and cold on her cheek. 

She gaped as she saw Walker's amused smile before her, paintbrush in hand and a dash of lime green on his cheek, right where she felt the sensation. She quickly grabbed her own brush with a giggle. "I thought we were having a moment there!"

"Who said we weren't?" Walker countered as he leaned back to try and dodge Andi's attack of color.

"You're not wrong." Andi nodded as they continued to dance around each other and laugh as they spread color onto each other. 

At one point as Andi tried to run away from Walker after an especially devastating streak of violet down his nose, her foot hooked around Walker's causing her to lose her footing and sink towards the grass. Instinctively, Walker reached out to scoop an arm around the valley of her back and pull her closer to him. "I got you, you're safe."

"I know." Andi melted, feeling like the entire world faded away as she looked up at Walker's face framed by the low sunlight. Every minuscule freckle and scar like the starry night sky and a halo of light around Walker's long eyelashes. 

Andi pushed herself closer to Walker, rubbing her nose against his and wrapping her arms around his sturdy neck as she pressed her lips to his. 

Walker reached out with his other hand to cup the side of her jaw as he kissed her back with tenderness, yet security. Andi wanted to describe the feeling but the only words she could draw was finally.

Andi smiled against Walkers lips as she felt her heart soar within it's home in her chest, for it knew the joyous news that her soul had found the one she loves, and will forever continue to love. By every new breath in her lungs, she fully understood this would be the love that lasted a lifetime. By just the feeling of Walker's hair within her fingertips, she securely knew her love for him would extend even after the day the sun died out and it would illuminate the heavens across all of space; just like a star after years of its perishing. The feeling of the paint on their skin stood as a constant reminder of that day and the long-awaited eternity she could have only seen before in her wildest of dreams. 

[crunchie-morris]

Flyin'

Okay, I haven't published anything in f o r e v e r. I've got a prompt in my inbox I'm gonna try and write tonight, but if I don't end up finishing that, I wanted to get something out! So here's an old Jackcrutchie oneshot I wrote way back before I had Tumblr. Enjoy! ••• "Mmph," Crutchie frowned and poked his tooth with his tongue. "Mmph, mmph, mmmph...ow!" "Stop messin' with your tooth," Jack scolded, elbowing his friend. "Didn't you just tell me it hurt like hell?" "Yeah," Crutchie said, still poking his tooth. "But, it's gonna hurt more tomorrow." "Ah, you'll be fine," Jack chuckled. "I mean, you're Crutchie Morris. If you can take on that leg of yours, you can take on a root canal." Crutchie grinned at Jack half-heartedly. Then, he stood up,pausing for a moment to feel the cool New York air on his face. "Thanks. I should be gettin' to bed, though. Night, Jack. See you in the mornin'?" Jack looked up from his drawing for a moment to glance at Crutchie, whose face was etched with worry, as it had been all evening. "Of course. I'm the one takin' ya there, after ya tomorrow, Crutch." Crutchie smirked as left the roof and saluted Jack. "See ya." Jack saluted Crutchie back with one more encouraging smile before turning back to his sketchbook. Crutchie had spent the whole evening refusing to admit how nervous he was for his dentist's appointment the next day. "Technically, it's an endodontist," Crutchie had corrected when Jack had called it a dentist's appointment. "And, anyway, I suppose I'm lucky. If it weren't for Kloppman, I probably woulda done nothin' about my tooth, and that'd be no good. But, he actually paid for this, and that ain't cheap, so I better be grateful." "You got every right to be scared, though," Jack assured him. "Not that you won't be fine, though." A smirk appeared on his face as he added, "You know, the worst that's probably gonna happen to ya is you'll be all loopy from the medicine they give ya. That'll be entertaining." Crutchie grinned and rolled his eyes. "Whatever you do, don't put me on YouTube." "Aw, come on!" Jack feigned disappointment. "You could be the next viral sensation!" Crutchie chuckled and shook his head. "No thanks." Jack had patted him on the back and said, "Trust me, Crutch, you'll be a-okay." ••• "Morris, Andrew?" Crutchie's nervous foot-tapping stopped immediately as he looked up, fear crossing his freckled features. "You'll be fine," Jack gave Crutchie an encouraging smile. "For sure?" Crutchie asked, biting his lip. "For sure," Jack echoed. With that, the two made their way to the front desk. The clerk looked at Jack curiously. "Are you his guardian?" She asked. "You look quite young, sir." "Eh, kind of?" Jack offered. "His bills and stuff are probably marked under Kloppman, that's our group home director, but he's got a ton of other boys to look after, so I'm here in his place. I'm almost eighteen, though, Miss, plus I already got the papers signed by him." The clerk nodded understandingly. "Well, if you've got the papers, that should work just fine, then." "Wait, what kinda papers did he have to sign?" Crutchie asked, trying to hide his anxious tone. "Just some legal things, Mr. Morris," The clerk answered. Crutchie nodded, and quickly said, "Yeah, right, legal stuff, I knew that. Just boring, legal stuff, of course, it don't have anything to do with this procedure bein' dangerous." The clerk laughed good-naturedly. "You're in good hands, Andrew. Don't worry." "I ain't worried!" Crutchie shoved a grin on his face. "No, ma'am, not me! I'se just, uh, reassurin' Jack here." Jack rolled his eyes. "Remind me never to let you become an actor." ••• Jack sat in the waiting room, twiddling his thumbs as he awaited Crutchie's arrival. He had to admit, Crutchie's nerves may or may not have rubbed off on him, so he was now quite antsy as watched the clock. "Mr. Kelly?" Jack looked up, relieved to see them walking Crutchie in. "Crutchie!" He grinned, jogging over to his friend. Crutchie blinked several times as he looked at Jack, before his face turned up in a smirk. "Hey there, Jack!" "He did a great job," The nurse announced. "Now, he's probably going to be a little out of it for the next few hours, but once the medicine wears off, give him Ibuprofen and allow him to ice his face." "Will do,Miss," Jack said, taking Crutchie's arm and heading out. "Thank you!" Crutchie wobbled on his feet, looking down and stepping very carefully. His features turned up in another grin as he said, his words muffled by the cotton in his mouth, "Everythin's all...spinny, Jack." "Yeah, I'm sure it is," Jack replied, giving his friend an amused look. Crutchie tripped over his crutch suddenly, and Jack caught him just before he hit the ground. After the initial shock wore off, Crutchie broke out into giddy laughter. Jack couldn't help but laugh, too. "You need some help there, bud?" He offered. "I can carry ya if you wa-" "No!" Crutchie cut him off firmly. As Jack eased him upright again, he looked over at the older boy, blinking rapidly. "No way. Ain't no one carryin' me...never!" Jack rolled his eyes. "Even all drugged-up, you'se gotta be Mr. Independent, huh?" Crutchie nodded. "I got this." He announced, scrunching his face up with determination. Jack laughed again and the two made their way outside. It took a while, but they eventually got to the car and began on their way back to their home. Crutchie was silent for most of the ride, staring intently at the dashboard. Jack gave him a sideways glance. "You okay, pal?" "If-if we woke up with, with, like, superpowers," He began slowly in a serious tone. "Do ya think that-that we'd, we would all be able to fly? Or like, only some people could, like celebrities?" He paused before adding, "I bet Idina Menzel would be able to fly. She's cool like that." Jack felt a grin spread across his face. "I dunno, Crutchie. What do you think?" Crutchie looked deep in thought. He thought hard before responding, "I think that like...you could only fly if you believe you can fly." "Like in Peter Pan?" Jack asked, bemused. Crutchie's face lit up. "Yeah! Jus' like that!" He silent for a moment more before continuing,"Maybe...that's how things are right now, but no one, nobody...no one thinks they can, so-so nobody can! Ya know? I bet we can fly, but none-no, nobody believes that we can." Jack tried, but ultimately failed, to hide a snigger. Crutchie frowned. "See, see that's what I mean! You don't believe it, you think I'se jokin', but-but...but...what was I sayin', Jack?" As they pulled up next to the group home, Jack snuck a glance at Crutchie. "Flyin'?" He prompted. Crutchie broke out in a huge smile. "Oh, that sounds neat!" He exclaimed. "Yeah, flyin', that would, that'd be cool. That's what I was talkin' about." Jack shook his head at his delirious friend. "Sure was." ••• Once they got inside, Jack helped Crutchie to his bunk. Just before he was going to leave the younger one to rest, Jack heard a laugh from behind him. He turned around to face a massively-grinning Crutchie. "What's so funny?" Crutchie giggled. "You...ya look so funny." Jack smirked involuntarily. "What do ya mean?" "All...all blurry," Crutchie explained, gesturing to Jack. "And the room is still all-all spinny and it's so funny." "Well, I've been told I look quite good when I'm blurry, for the record," Jack teased, sitting on the edge of Crutchie's bed. Crutchie let his laughter die out before softly asking, "Can ya tell me about-bout that place?" "What place?" Jack asked. "The one with all the buildings," Crutchie slurred,, blinking over and over. "The ones with the clay, ya know? And the paintings you make and the green...ya know, the place?" "Santa Fe?" Jack grinned. "That's it!" Crutchie smiled. "Yeah, Santa Fe! I like it when you'se talkin'...talkin' all about that place 'cause when I'm all sad or mad- hey, that rhymed! But-but...when I'se upset, you talk about Santa Fe and then I feel happy. More than happy. Because...it's 'cause I know that you'se gonna keep me safe, 'cause you...ya tell me about Santa Fe, and you don't tell the other boys that much about Santa Fe! And, when we'se talkin' 'bout, about Santa Fe, you tell me the other things that you would never say to anybody else, and I say the things I'd never tell anyone-anyone else, and you never tell the other fellas what I says. So-so, that way, I know you really trust me, so I...I can really trust you. I'se never been able to really trust anyone before, 'cause they all leave. You know that. But, you'se...you'se real different. And, that's just great. So great." Jack felt a smile- a true, genuine smile- on his face for the first time in a long time. He looked at Crutchie, who smiled back hopefully. Laying back on the pillow next to Crutchie, he began, "Alright, I'm gonna need ya to close your eyes." Crutchie obliged eagerly. "Good," Jack responded, closing his eyes, too. "Now, come with me to a place where it's clean and green and pretty, and they went and made a city outta clay." He continued painting the city for Crutchie with his words until he felt a weight on his shoulder. Jack looked down to see that Crutchie was out cold, using Jack as his pillow. Jack smirked and muttered, "Maybe if ya dream hard enough, you can fly to Santa Fe." ••• Crutchie woke up to a heavy aching in his mouth. He groaned and rolled over, ready to attempt to sleep again, when his eyes landed upon a bowl of ice cream and a note on his nightstand. Smiling softly, he picked up the note and read, "Crutchie, I didn't put you on YouTube. You totally would have gone viral, though; you were hilarious. Sorry I couldn't stay with you, I had to go get the schoolwork we missed. (The next time Mr. Pulitzer says I'm irresponsible, show him this!) But, the nurse said to ice your mouth, so I brought you some ice cream, 'cause, hey, it's got the word " ice" in it. -Jack" Below that, Jack had doodled a small, smiling boy with a crutch and word bubble that said, "Flyin' sounds neat!" Crutchie shook his head and grinned. He was just about to roll over and go back to sleep when he noticed a little more text at the bottom. "P.S. I bet you don't remember any of the stuff you said about Santa Fe, but, if you do, thanks." Before going back to sleep, Crutchie quickly jotted down on the back of the note, "I don't remember anything I said, but if it was about Santa Fe, I meant every word."

[heddofon-akuta]

This Evening

Characters: Takane, Haruka Ships: HaruTaka Genre: Hurt/comfort, romance, fluff Rating: K Word count: 4000+

Tomorrow story about a girl who, finally, tells the truth. 

Today, I was tired.

I was so tired, and I wasn’t even sure why. I mean, yeah, I stayed up late—but this kind of tired was way worse than normal (which was saying something, at least for me.) I wanted to cry at the simple idea of opening my eyes; I’d long since decided I wasn’t getting out of bed today. However I was soon rudely provoked otherwise by a voice that had entirely different plans in mind.

“Good morning, Takane. ♡” That soft, however cheerful sound echoed in our otherwise silent room. I didn’t need to look to know whom it belonged to. If the sun was up and about, so was he. “Or should I say, afternoon!”

My boyfri—  I, I mean, my, lov—wait. My, romantiii—…?  Ugh. My… 

Haruka.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he said in a sing-song voice. Normally, I’d have just ignored him, but he pulled the window’s drapes open, and the sun rays poured brightly across our formally darkened room. Loudly, I hissed—then shielding my face with my blanket. 

“Leave. Now.”

He emitted a small disappointed sound as I felt him sit on the edge of my bed. “Don’t be like that,” he said softly, making my feelings of resentment seem almost trivial. “You should really get up—at least for a while, okay?”

“No,” I said adamantly, “I’m tired.”

“You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.” He pulled the covers off my face, looking at me with a worried sort of expression that was hard to say no to...

But, being myself, I found a way.

Again hiding my face, I growled. Appearing on the wide-screen TV mounted across the room, a drastic change in my voice was heard. “Ahhh, you’re so needy!” Floating upside-down, I lazily kicked my feet (or rather, lack there-of) back and forth. I wasn’t keen on any measure of consciousness right now, but at least I wasn’t on the verge of physical exhaustion like this. “Are you happy now?”

“You know what I meant, Takane,” he replied, sounding concerned. “It’s not good for your body to stay in bed for so long. Inactivity breeds inactivity, you know?” (Pul-lease. I was inactive for two straight years. I’ve all but perfected the art of being dormant; at this point, I’m basically a pro.) “You should get up, and get some exercise.” (No.) “We should go somewhere, or do something fun!” (No, no, no.)

“Yeah, and we can do that with me in your phone!” I brushed off his suggestion. “And besides, don’t you think I’m just so much cuter like this?” I tried to bait him—using my hands to frame my face as I bat my eyelashes in his direction. Vague attempts at flirting were a lot easier behind a screen, I had to say.

“Hmm…” He looked back and forth between my real body and the screen a couple times, eventual to conclude, “Nope. Because Takane’s always adorable.”

Y’know...?

It didn’t matter if I was real or virtual—when he said stupid things like that, he never failed to make me flustered. “Y-You—!” I puffed out my cheeks and pouted at him in annoyance, and he seemed to preemptively know I was about to fuss at him, because he cut me off.

“In fact, you’re so adorable,” a somehow innocent sort of smirk (an expression only he could manage,) flickered across his visage, and he leaned down to hover over me slightly, “I think I could just kiss you.”

“…W-Wha—?!” 

Even though it’d been a few months now, since we’d gotten into a… relaaation—this… this, relay—ugh. 

It had been a few months since we’d gotten, eh-hem… together, (—was it possible for a human-turned-anime-esque virtual entity to throw up in its mouth a little bit? Because I’m pretty sure I just did—) but I’d had yet to find the courage to so much as kiss Haruka’s cheek thus far. My virtual head started spinning just thinking about it. 

While he certainly gotten close (what with his face being not an inch from mine,) I stopped him before he could do anything. My eyes snapped wide open, and with my heart racing a mile a minute now, I clasped my hands over his mouth and pushed him away. 

Did he really just embarrass me into waking up?

“A-Alright, alright! I get it!” I glared.

With his mouth still covered and his voice muffled, he was cheerful to ask, “So you’ll get out of bed?”

I nodded in defeat, to which he seemed delighted. I soon realized that any sort of movement provoked a headache from my irrational sleep deprivation, but I could only groan and sit upright. He was sure to give me a good-morning/afternoon hug—which I specifically didn’t return. I wanted him to know just how inconvenient he was being. 

But, of course, he didn’t seem to get the message as he went on without concern, “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Not hungry.”

“You should eat anyway.” (What are you, my babysitter?) “And you should change out of your pajamas. I’ll even help you brush your hair before we leave,” he told me, putting his hand atop my head before running his fingers through my waist-length mess of tangles. I felt my face heat up, but as I was still too out-of-it to complain; I could only stare in annoyance as he soon disappeared out the doorway.

After he was gone, I put my fingers to my lips, reflecting on what’d just happened—both his gracious attitude... and my bitter one. Despite technically being together, ours hardly seemed to qualify as a real relationship. There were still so many... things, we’d yet to do, and, perhaps more-so—so many things I’d yet to say. 

I groaned, pushing all related thoughts to the back of my mind before flopping back down on the bed. Despite everything, I somehow only felt more tired than before.

Regardless of my constant whining for an alternative, he eventually convinced me to go for a walk. He’d said he’d had a nice place in mind—that place being fairly peaceful and quite with all things considered, as it was somehow isolated from the rest of the city. Naturally, to that—I didn’t argue. 

However when we got there, I could only look upon this place with a vacant visage, as if surprised. I got a strange kind of feeling upon gazing at the sky projected above the green landscape; it felt like it wasn’t the first time in my life, that I’d stood in this exact spot. I mean, I guess... it probably wasn’t? 

After all, it was that little hill next to the high school we used to attend.

As Haruka made his way to the hill’s peak without me, my confusion shifted something resembling distress... or desire—but I could only cant my head to the side, trying to understand the situation. It was as if there was something important to be remembered here, but I just wasn’t quite sure what that was.

“Aren’t you coming?” Haruka asked, looking back at me.

“Ah,” I responded softly, “Yeah.”

Regardless of was escaping my mind, the area was otherwise tranquil as promised. It’d be a good place to kick back and listen to the radio for a while, but... glancing over to Haruka from the corner of my eye, I couldn’t quite bring myself to physically put my headphones on. 

Regardless, still resentful, I didn’t engage him in conversation, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind. As per usual wherever he went, he brought it sketchbook, so he was occupied.

Shifting my gaze, I glanced down to the paper. He seemed to take notice, as he hid the picture against his chest, wearing a distinctly guilty expression. Quite fittingly, in fact, as I’d seen enough to know what he was doodling.

“What have I told you about that,” I narrowed my eyes, to which he, naturally, grew downcast and discouraged.

“But… I love drawing you.”

I felt a sudden fluster, having never quite realized the fact for some reason. I growled at him, visibly angered—then crossing my arms with a huff. I turned away, so he couldn’t see my face. “Well, I don’t care! Draw something else!”

“Hmm…” he pondered for a moment, not letting my mood get to him too extensively. From the corner of my eye, I saw him look around, eventually setting his sights. It wasn’t long before I heard the sound of his pencil tracing across the page—but just to be safe, I waited a few minutes before looking back to him (...but I swore to God—if I looked over and saw the back of my head on that page, I’d smack him right in the fac—)

Oh? “What’s that?” I asked bluntly. It was a strange sort of picture that I couldn’t quite make out yet. (Oh, gosh—don’t tell me it was an abstract picture of the back of my head?) However he didn’t seem discouraged by my untrained eye, as he only smiled and held his sketchpad out at arms length—comparing his picture to the original subject. 

“It’s the sunset, see?”

“…Oh. Oh, yeah, I kinda see now,” I replied.

Suddenly, I realized how late the day had gotten. I must’ve slept a really long time… and yet—

I was still so tired.  Why did I have to be this way? 

The thought only proved to make me more upset, so naturally—throwing some of that pessimism Haruka’s way—I asked, “Isn’t it kinda impossible to draw something like a sunset with just one color?”

“Eh? You think so?” he tilted his head a bit. “Well, I say it’s only as impossible as you make it seem,” he stated in contradiction, pointing his finger in the air.

I shrugged, because, well—what did I know, right? Guess that’s why he was the one with the sketchpad here. Though I was pretty sure it had more to do with my sour attitude (which, naturally, didn’t stop there.) I only continued to discourage him, or maybe I was just testing how far his optimism went. “It just seems boring to me.”

Even though I’d all but insulted him just now, he hardly seemed phased; he just laughed my comment off. “Then I’ll make sure to bring colored pencils next time, so you like it more—okay?” To which I narrowed my eyes—feeling oddly annoyed as he suggested going out of his way to please me. Regardless, he went on to explain, “I just wanted to draw the sunset today, too. Since I couldn’t draw what I really wanted, I picked the next best thing,” —he could’ve sufficed in saying, but naturally—that wasn’t enough for him. He laughed quietly to himself, as if he preemptively knew how I’d react to his next statement. He smiled, timidly holding his sketchpad against his chest.

 “It’s close, but even the sunset couldn’t be as beautiful as Takane.”

“Eh?!” I shouted... to which he laughed once more, and I instantly smacked his sketchpad out of his hands. I hissed in his direction, fixating a harsher kind of glare. “Stop laughing, idiot!” 

He didn’t. “But, I mean it!” he said.

Bitterly, I tried my hardest to hurt his feelings. “W-Well—! I hate the sun!”

Reading me like a book, he was forward in explaining myself to me with a smile. “When you say you don’t like something, I know it means you love it.”

I was caught off-guard and was without words for a moment. “I… I do not,” I finally said... perhaps only furthering his point. “Whatever! You’re just an idiot!”

“And when you act mean like that, I know you don’t mean it either.”

“Wh-What?!” I stuttered, offended, as if I had no idea what he was talking about—to which he only smiled as if he’d proven me right. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I think this is what the “Haruka” equivalent of smugness looked like. I grit my teeth, growling at him. Even though he was just being honest, it made me bothered. I leered at him and stood abruptly. “Whatever,” I muttered in frustration. Turning back in the direction of the base, I’d decided I’d had enough “physical activity” for today. “I’m too exhausted for this.”

While I didn’t want him to try to stop me, in the back of my mind… I was silently hoping he’d follow. And as if on cue, he seemed to have known that—as I heard him pick his things up before soon trotting at my side.

Without permission, he reached for my hand to hold. Though I was kinda relieved by it, I jerked my arm away regardless. I could’t let him think he was off the hook. But, again, he didn’t seem bothered by my behavior at all—as I was surprised to feel him reach for my palm once more. I gave him an apparent questioning look, as if I was saying, “What are you doing, don’t you know I’m mad at you?”

But acting as if nothing was abnormal at all, he only smiled sweetly in reply—a smile that still resentfully made my heart race to this day. In fact, it made me feel… kinda light-headed. Regardless, I only made myself feel worse, as I tore my hand from his once more.

And again, he reached for it.

...Why? Hadn’t I been nothing but a rotten brat to them like I have today? I mean, hadn’t I done everything in my power to push him away all afternoon. With a glare plastered to my visage, I didn’t give myself the chance to think before shouting my first reaction in his face. “Can’t you take a hint for once?! God, I just can’t stand you some days!”

I expected my words to injure him, but he just stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes in a way that looked somewhat pensive, or maybe just blissful. Acting like my rage had no validation, he gave me that angelic smile once more.

“I know, Takane.” I recalled our prior conversation; as if on cue, he put his hand to my cheek. “I love you, too.”

Hearing him say that, feeling the gentle touch of his hand—it sent chills down my spine, and a drowning wave of emotions over my head.

How can you excuse my behavior so easily? It makes me so mad; if you acted this way to me, I’d punch you in the face and never speak to you again. Your attitude makes me furious, outraged, disgusted with anger.  You’re such an idiot.

I just wanted to start screaming at him like I often did—shouting my frustrations for him to hear. But, just like always, that didn’t feel right.

Instead, tearing my hand away again— I said something even worse.

“Then why didn’t you know I was in love with you two years ago?”

And to that—suddenly, terrifyingly, that look of understanding had all but disappeared from Haruka’s face, replaced with his utmost confusion. “Wh… what—?” he stuttered—to which I looked off to the side, and once more toward the peak of that hill, though he no longer stood at the top. I took a step back from Haruka.

“You’re such an idiot...”

And... at the same time, you make me so happy, I feel as though I’m about to cry. What did I do to ever deserve to be so happy, with you?

Unable to slap any kind of filter over my mouth at this point, I didn’t have the willpower to control anything I said.

“Maybe if you weren’t so stupid, I wouldn’t have been so stupid!” He flinched a bit as I smacked the sketchbook out of his hands once more. “Maybe we wouldn’t have died if you had just realized it sooner—!”

“T-Takan—”

“—because you know I basically died because of it, right?!”

His eyes widened with fear; mine was a statement to which he took a visible step back. Hearing myself after a momentary lag—tears now burned on the corners of my permanently unpleasant eyes. 

Truly, however, my death was the farthest thing from my mind right now.

Even now, I was just looking for yet another way to pin the blame on him. He’d done nothing to deserve such harsh words—not this evening, yesterday evening, and even tomorrow’s too. Ever single day, he was doing everything in his power to make me happy. He did that just by being himself…

And there would never, ever be an evening where I deserved any of it.

I knew the reason, that ours hardly felt like a real relationship... and it had nothing to do what we had or hadn’t done. Believe it or not, It was because what I hadn’t said either. Of course, without the truth, our relationship hardly was one...

But, moreso, even with the truth, it hardly was one.

“You know… you died because of it, right?”

For what was maybe the first time in my life—it was nearly impossible to lie. 

“I was… pretending to listen to my headphones—“ I said though the tears, and it sounded so stupid when I said it aloud, “because, I… I wanted you to notice me, to ask for my attention.”

When a person immerses themselves in their own world and someone around them starts doing something else, they can’t help but feel lonely, right? Yeah—talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

“Y-You… you had a stroke, and I could’a done something about it. B-But, I just…!” I should’ve stopped. It felt like I was going to start hyperventilating, and I needed to catch my breath—but I didn’t let myself. “I just ignored you the entire time—!”

Confessing it aloud made my chest throb, but I’d never quite know what a hurting heart felt like—at least, like he did. In response to all this, he hadn’t said a word; the moment was otherwise silent besides my audible sobs.

“Haruka. You died…” I paused, finally forcing myself to mutter through my tears, “because of me. You died, you literally died, because—”

Because I wanted your attention, because I ignored you, because I just couldn’t tell the truth.

“—because I loved you.”

Both mentally and physically, I felt disgusted. Cowardly, I couldn’t at all look his way, and I was somehow surprised to feel Haruka reach over after a moment—gently placing his hand on my shoulder. Suddenly, I felt my adrenaline start to rush once more, because for some reason, in this god-awful situation—he was the one who was consoling me.

I jerked away from him. I turned around as if to run off, but he stopped me in my tracks—grabbing my wrist firmly. “Stop it!” I demanded, and while he wasn’t anything close to aggressive, he just didn’t let me overpower him this time—and he pulled me into a secure embrace. Naturally, I did everything in my power to try to break away from him, pushing and shoving him while I hissed through gritted teeth. “Get away from me!”

God, just get it over with. Just hate me alread—

“—Takane!” he finally said, his voice cracking and sounding alarmingly distressed—so much so that I was caught off guard and I ceased in my struggling. It just enough so he could pull away and look at my face. His eyes were glowing red, undoubtably so he was strong enough to deal with the currently difficult me—but what was more alarming were the few tears that were streaming down his face.

For the first time in my life, Haruka was...  crying in front of me.

And just when I though I couldn’t get any more surprised, he leaned forward as if he had no control over his actions. I froze instantly, my eyes wide and staring without focus. With a moment of realization setting in, I was instant to calm down—because just as gentle and innocent as he was a person—Haruka kissed me.

My heart raced a mile a mine. Eventually, my eyes narrowed to a close to match his, and forgetting everything that happened up until now—I kissed him, too.

He pulled away, just enough to speak—and what he said seemingly made no sense at all, but for some reason, I think I believed him.

“Takane… it wasn’t your fault.”

I’d imagine he’d opened his eyes to look at me, but upon being unable to do the same, I finally realized why I felt so tired today—and that was because, I didn’t feel much of anything at all. My body included.

After a moment, I heard him say my name quizzically, the tone of his voice suddenly growing more distressed. Just as I was about to fall to the ground, Haruka caught me before I could.

For the first time since getting my physical form back, I was having an attack... At what might have been the literal worst time possible.

He knelt, propping my body against his chest. He said my name a couple times, shaking me a bit, and the only reason I knew was because I’d instantly transferred myself to my phone. I peeked up at him from my own pocket; he seemed to take notice, giving a weak smile as he reached for me. I attempted to hide, though I didn’t have anywhere to go. I whined a bit as I held my sleeves up to cover my pouting face.

“I’m sorry.” Looking down at my unconscious self, he (almost guilty) added, “I... I shouldn’t have done that.”

With anyone else, I’d be aggressively vocal in agreement. Even with him, in most cases, I’d be in agreement. But, truly, his physical actions weren’t what caused this to happen, but rather his words.

My arms fell to my sides, I didn’t bother to flaunt my virtual persona. The tone of my voice reflected that of physical body’s. “Even if you don’t blame me, it was still my fault.”

Again, the look on his face fell to concern. He was silent for a moment, though it looked as though he had something he wanted to say. He stopped looking at the phone, only to look down at the “me” he held in his arms. He reached up, brushing the hair from my eyes.

“No, Takane, it wasn’t” he finally said. “I, I was going to die,” his words passed with slow and hesitant intonation, perhaps more serious than I’d ever heard him, “no matter what.”

My eyes widened, the pixels around my mouth shifted to a gaping expression. Confused, I could only mutter my response. “W...What?” To which Haruka gazed off to the side, as if he couldn’t bare to look at my real nor artificial face. He grit his teeth, seeming hesitant but sure to continue.

“And what’s worse, I... I knew it. I had known it for years—long before I even met you.”

I stared blankly. For a program of seemingly artificial intelligence, I don’t think I could quite comprehend the meaning of what I’d heard. Overwhelmed, it was my first reaction to blurt all the questions coming to my mind. “W-Why? Why? Since when? How? Ah, ah—“ With digital tears forming in the corner of my virtual eyes too, I could only ask in fluster, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to, Takane—but I couldn’t,” he was instant to explain, gritting his teeth with a pained expression. “I could only tell Shintaro-kun, because something about the idea of telling you just... made my heart stop even faster.” He grit his teeth with a pained expression, as if remembering something. After a moment, I knew why. 

“Maybe it’s for the same reason I didn’t… I didn’t realize how you felt. Because I knew... I was going to die, and I couldn’t be with you.”

A confession to which I choked on my words, unsure if I felt more or less guilty than before. My breath hitched, as I was unsure of what to say. Thankfully, Haruka did.

“Takane...” he exhaled my name, “if there’s one thing I’ve never wanted, it’s for you to blame yourself. Because we died together, I have the chance at a real life, with you.”

It took me a moment to understand his meaning, but the moment I did, I felt my cheeks heat up. My real cheeks. I felt my consciousness somewhat regainable. Slowly, I opened my eyes, still damp from tears, and looked up at him. He returned my gaze with red irises, which made sense as he soon stood, holding me in his arms like a bride.

His final statement left me with yet another new sensation throbbing in my chest. Without a second thought, I reached up, grabbing Haruka by the collar, pulling him into another kiss. After a moment of mutual surprise, I felt his hold around me grow my firm, as he cradled me tightly in his arms. He kissed me back.

Feeling bold for what might’ve been the first time in my life, it was all but impossible to restrain myself. But, also, for the first time in my life... I didn’t feel like I had to.

“You’re not the reason I died, Takane. You’re the reason I’m really alive for the first time in my life.”

[cantolopejeevas]

okay now for the three boys I always obsess over! Daniel: 3, 6, 12, 25, and 49; Daniyal: 4, 7, 16, 23, and 45; and Mortar: 9, 18, 19, 22, 24, 33, and 38 (hopefully this isn't too much!!!)

I’ll be putting this one under a read-more ‘cause it’s quite a bit~

Daniel

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Daniel had a pretty good childhood. His best memories are probably ones where he’s playing games with his parents, or maybe the ones where he’s chattering on about his favorite characters to his school friends. I think his worst memory would probably involve him getting into some kind of trouble. I’m sure he’s gotten detention at least a couple times for doodling Inky on the back of his math tests, haha.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

He was a pretty decent student, if sometimes a little stubborn and wanting to do things his way. He finished school with decent grades and got a four year degree in journalism, with a minor in communication. He enjoyed english and music classes mostly- until he got to high school and english class turned into reading a bunch of long-winded books from guys that died well before his time. He probably hated math the most, even though he was decent at it. It didn’t interest him, so he saw it as a waste of time after a certain point.

12. What is their favourite food?

Probably some sort of bullshit fancy pasta with a light garlic butter sauce and lots of veggies and shrimp. Healthy, but also somewhat tasty. I dunno, I had this exact meal at a restaurant once and it seemed very Daniel.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Daniel has a more dry sense of humor, so he’s more likely to find sarcasm and the like funny. He’s also a fan of clever word play, which he tries to incorporate into his show from time to time. His sense of humor isn’t that great, as he’s very bitter and tends to take things a little too personally. And he’s not purposefully funny most of the time, but he does have these nihilistic moods and sayings that are unintentionally funny.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

His most valued object would probably be the SNES or the little tape recorder he had as a kid (both of which are in the collection room). He’s very very sentimental, and he likes to keep records of all his memories somewhere in his house. In fact, he even used to keep a video diary! As for something he takes everywhere, its less that he has to and more that it just happens to be that way, but he has a photo taken right after the very first episode of his show that he keeps in his wallet, tucked behind his driver’s license.

Daniyal

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

Daniyal knew both of his parents, and got along with them both pretty well. He was more familiar with his father, though, since his mother was an amateur adventurer and would go out for most of the day looking for treasure and whatnot. But he’s got good memories working on the farm with his dad, or when he was younger being taken on small adventures finding rupees under rocks with his mom. As for bad memories, he would sometimes mess something up on the farm and disappoint his dad from time to time, or he’d see his mom come home from an adventure that went wrong and see how hurt she got.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

He had a few friends as a kid, but really only one or two stayed with him into adulthood. You know, until his village got attacked and they died. And then he got warped to a different world, so even if they had survived he still wouldn’t have been able to stay friends with them. But he’s got lots of wonderful friends now, so it’s all good~

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

Lowkey, he collect shiny rocks (especially red, blue, and green ones) because he thinks they can be used as currency, and when he tries to use them to buy something, someone (*cough*Andy*cough*) has to stop him, haha. So he keeps them at home, probably in a little chest or something.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

He has a good long-term memory, but his short-term memory isn’t the best. Especially if someone asks him to do something that he’s never done before, he’ll almost immediately forget whatever instructions they gave him and just panic. But he can still tell you in detail the layout of his village, including who lived where and did what. And he’s better with faces than he is names, because most of the names he comes across nowadays are weird-sounding to him, haha.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Generally, other people see him as a well-meaning and kind, if very cowardly, person. Sometimes his forgetfulness and ignorance is seen as idiocy by certain people, but he does leave a mostly good impression even on them. This is essentially how he sees himself too, although he’s far more likely to downplay his kindness and put more emphasis on his cowardice. His self-esteem does get a little better though~

Mortar

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

I almost wanna make a joke about how he’s a furry who’s in love with a sheepy boy, but I’m not gonna, hahaha. He does tend to like animals more than people though, especially stray dogs and cats. They understand the struggle of life, so he feels a sort of solidarity with them. And generally those same strays tend to like him too. I’m sure that’s the main source of affection he gives and receives until he meets Cookie.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Mortar loves comedy. His favorite kinds of comedy are either really silly bullshit kinda stuff, or really dark humor. If something can make him laugh, it;s guaranteed to be his favorite thing of the week, haha. I also think he’s a fan of horror stuff, but only in a public setting so he can watch everyone else be scaredy-cats.

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

Probably sci-fi? But like a very niche kind of sci-fi. He likes space stuff and what-not, but if it’s biology based science-fiction he’ll get real pissed real quick, because he’d instantly just be like, “That’s not how that works????? The human body can’t do that!!! I would know, I’ve cut into thousands of ‘em!!!” 

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

He probably likes to call people fuckheads, assholes, motherfuckers, and occasionally “botched goods”. He insults people for getting in his way, or fucking around with him, Cookie, or his business. He’ll bitch to their face, behind their back, and over their recently-stopped-beating heart as he pawns it off to a customer.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

He’s probably got a more nocturnal sleeping pattern than most. It’s hard to steal organs in the daylight, you know? If he snores, it’s probably very soft, and maybe can’t really be heard unless you’re listening for it. And he likes to sleep on soft things, but he’s capable of sleeping just about anywhere.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties? 

He probably wears plain boxers most of the time. He doesn’t really care about what his underwear looks like, he’ll just grab whatever and wear it. Though I’m sure sometimes he goes commando ‘cause why the hell not? He likes to live on the edge.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

He admires innocence in others. In the “you haven’t seen the worst shit this world has to offer, so you’re still full of hope and you’re still nice” kind of way. And he doesn’t wish for talents, necessarily, because he thinks he’s almost perfect the way he is, but for opportunities. Like I’m sure he wants to go to college or something and get a degree that he can rub in people’s faces, but being a world-class criminal that never had any sort of schooling kinda gets in the way of that.

[this-ginger-has-no-soul]

Ocean soldier (Part 2 out of?)

(A/N): I seriously love mermaid Bucky *sobs* 

Summary: (Y/N) happens to come across a rather friendly mermaid

Warnings: none for the time being?

Read the first part: X

(Tags at the end)

   (This gif has me feeling so many things??) 

   You had been reluctant to go home that day, you had thoroughly enjoyed your visit with Bucky. The two of you talked...well you had done most of the talking while he sat there in the water and looked at you, occasionally grabbing the pad and pencil to write something to you. You had even managed to get him to crack a smile, not one of the small ones from earlier but a full on wide, toothy grin. It had been adorable...at first, that was until you got a glance at his sharp, jagged teeth. They almost reminded you of shark’s teeth only scarier given they were on a human being and not a marine animal. Something about this guy was seriously off, you knew that much, between the webbing and teeth and the constant need to stay in the water you had figured he was...strange to say the least. These should have scared you away, you should have run as soon as he appeared the second time but you didn’t, instead you sat down on the docks and talked to him until he had to abruptly scurry off at the first sign of people. These were all red flags, you should have talked to someone or reported this man to the police and yet again you didn’t and now here you were, the following day sitting on the dock awaiting for your friend to appear. 

   You doodle a bit, no longer focused on the sunrise as much as your water loving friend who had yet to make an appearance this morning. You gently sketched a face, one with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, you doodle some hair, long and matted with water but still gorgeous but what you truly focused on was the eyes. They had to be perfect, they had to capture the essence of curiosity and innocence but they also had to have a deeper, darker tone to them, one that implied this man- whomever he was- had a secret, or a darker side. 

   A soft coo is what pulls you away from your drawing but you don’t even have to look up to know it was. You set your drawing pad aside as you smile at Bucky who smiled right back, showcasing those jagged, knife like teeth. 

   “Hey Bucky,” You murmur quietly, as though scared to break the soothing sounds of the early morning sea. Bucky hums softly as he assumes his regular position, his head tucked upon his folded arms as he looks up at you. Your eyes rake over his form, stopping at his neck as you survey the slices of flesh, moving in time with each breath he took. They sure as hell looked like gills...but that- that wasn’t possible, human beings couldn’t have gills...could they?  Bucky hums again as he looks at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Guess he’d caught your rather curious gaze “Sorry, um uh- I was just staring at your-” You gesture to his neck, sighing rather loudly. “Okay Bucky, what the hell are those things?” Bucky reaches up with a webbed hand to touch the skin, running his fingers along the ripped flesh before setting his hand back against the dock, looking rather sheepish. “Oh god Bucky-” You sigh, knowing you’ve offended him again with your ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just-” You gesture to your own neck, revealing the not ripped flesh. “Mine’s different again, see?” Bucky looks back up, his blue eyes traveling over the expanse of your neck. “Do you...do you wanna touch it?” Bucky nods as he leans up a bit, pulling himself up just enough to expose his bare chest. Your eyes rake over his skin, taking in ever piece of smooth, water covered flesh. God- this man...or whatever he is- was beautiful. 

   Bucky makes a little impatient sound in the back of his throat, making grabby hands at you when he realized he couldn’t quite reach your neck. You smile as you lean down a bit, allowing his cool hands to graze your skin. The feeling was...different than expected; his fingers were cool to the touch and most definitely wet but they felt good against your skin. You hum softly as Bucky touches your neck, feeling the difference between your neck and his own. 

   “See? Different right?” Bucky purses his lips and nods, staring down at his own body in what appeared to be shame. Whatever was below the water he obviously didn’t want you to see, the most he had exposed to you was his upper body and even that was strange, you could only imagine what it looked like down below. “Bucky?” You whisper, biting your lip as you contemplate whether the question was worth asking. The man hums as he finally retracts his hand, apparently satisfied with his little inspection. “Can I ask you something kinda of...personal?” Bucky looks at you with squinted eyes, the distrust on his face obvious but nonetheless he nods. “Um, are you- are you human?” Bucky looks up at you with an almost frightened expression, his eyes wide and lips parted. But before you can even begin to repair the damage he disappears, ducking down below the surface just as he had done yesterday. “Wait Bucky!” You cry out as you lean forward, searching the waters desperately but there was no sign of him, the only thing that would have hinted that he was here was by the way the dock was covered in rivulets of water, most likely from his dripping hair. 

   You slump back onto the dock, looking at the waters in surprise. How could he have just disappeared like that? And why did he just disappear like that? You bite your lip in thought as you scan the waters, waiting for any sign of your new friend but there seemed to be none. Even after five minutes you saw no sign of your friend, then ten rolled around, then 20, then 40, but by the time the beach had started to sprout a family or two you realized Bucky wasn’t coming back. You sighed softly as you stood from the dock, grabbing your sketch pad and pencil in disappointment. As you waddled away from the dock you looked back, hoping to catch some glance of your friend but there was none, only the boats and sea so with another sigh you keep on waddling, trying not to let your spirits hurt too much. 

   You returned the next day, with your sketch pad and pencil, awaiting for Bucky. You waited for 3 fucking hours. 3 hours of just sitting and waiting for Bucky to show up. The sun rose, the people arrived and yet here you were waiting all alone on the docks. 

   You sigh as you drag your pencil along your paper, creating nonsensical lines and scribbles. It looked as though Bucky wasn't going to show this morning and you couldn't help but feel like it was your fault but you'd remedy this, you'd get Bucky to come back around. 

    For the next two weeks you kept up the same routine, showing up with your sketch pad and pencil, waiting for your strange, water loving friend to show but he never did. The countless hours you spent on those docks waiting for him were painful, they have you time to think about him. Even if you had only known him for 3 days you couldn't help but feel attached to him and now suddenly he had disappeared. And yet here you were, the third week, and still sitting on the dock waiting for him. This time you had brought your guitar and you were gently strumming on it, humming a solemn song yourself. If you were going to wait out here for hours on end for your non existent friend to show up you had better bring something to entertain yourself since drawing wasn't doing it for you anymore. 

   You strummed and plucked multiple songs, slowly but surely making your way through every tune you knew how to play. By the time you were done your fingers were aching and the sounds of the beach had gone strong; It had to be noon by the time you finished and surprise, still no sign if Bucky. God- why would he just leave you like this? Why wouldn't he come back or at least tell you why he had left? Perhaps it was you? Maybe he was tired of you and didn't want to see you anymore? Perhaps your insistent questions had angered him? 

   A million questions swirl around your mind until you can barely think anymore, your head to jumbled with "maybe's" and "what if's". God- you had really fucked this up. For once you actually liked someone and then you went and fucked it up. If only you had kept your mouth shut, if only you hadn't been so annoying, if only you could have been better. Tears burn at your eyes and before you know it you're crying, your tears sliding off and hitting the watery docks. You were so pathetic, you knew a guy for 3 days and then he leaves and you're this heart Broken? You bury your face in your hands, crying into them like some pathetic cry baby, which you were; The negative thoughts don’t mix well with your already strong feelings of frustration and regret. 

        Your crying is only spurred on by your negative thoughts, both your frustration and self hate brewing together to create the 'beautiful' mixture of tears you were experiencing right now. And that's when you hear it, a gentle but soothing coo amongst the sound of ocean waves and the distant beach goers. You don't even want to look up for the fear of the noise only being your imagination but suddenly there's that strange but pleasant hand on your leg, gripping your leg gently. The coo comes again, this time a bit louder and persistent, almost as though Bucky was trying to grab your attention. Even with all your frustration and anger you look up, sniffling a bit as you do. 

    "Bucky..." You sniffle softly, hesitantly meeting the man’s gaze. He coos once again, his bright blue eyes very intently looking at your face. You bite your lip as you look at him, feeling even more pathetic than you did before. You can’t look into those ocean eyes any longer, your shame and embarrassment getting the better of you as you turn your head away from him but before you can there’s a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away at your tears. You look back at Bucky in surprise, his hand feeling pleasant against your own wet cheek. This the most Bucky had ever touched you, other than when he had touched your neck and hands but this was- this was something else; this was more than those observatory touches, this was something more intimate. You sigh softly, allowing your eyes to flutter close as Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, collecting each tear that fell- however they don’t remain closed for long when they’re suddenly shooting back open in surprise. 

   “Please don’t cry...” 

@kaitlynmalikisnotonfire, @alienboi3299, @rejecteddesire, @saradi1018, @jessevans, @floral-and-fine, @notsoprettykitty, @yo-yo-bro-bro, @imamoose, @nobody8990, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @iamwarrenspeace, @ruby-rose89 (If I have forgotten to tag you please contact me so I can add you!) 

[tourlouxx]

Ex’s

So I was wondering what it would be like if Kanan ran into one of his ex-girlfriends, so I wrote it down.

Enjoy 

It was a busy day in the streets of Lothal. Kanan, Hera, Zeb, Sabine and Ezra were in Capital City’s biggest market looking for some much needed supplies. They had been eating ration packs for the past few weeks and everyone was sick of it. Well, everyone except Hera. After all these years Kanan was still surprised at how delighted she would get when any type of food was put in front of her, even if it made the rest of them want to puke, and they were no strangers to hunger either.

Kanan scanned the different fruit and vegetable stands looking for the ingredients necessary for a stew he hadn’t had in years. For some reason, he was really craving it recently. It went back to his days as a bachelor, working on some diner in a backwater world. He wasn’t a bad cook. People seemed to really like his food and, hey, he liked it too.

He was going through the recipe in his head when Sabine’s voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Kanan?”

It came from behind him, turning around to look at her he found her staring at him with a strange pleading look in her eyes.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“There’s an art store there” she said, gesturing towards it, “Can I go check it out?”

Oh of course. Art supplies. As if she doesn’t have enough already, he thought musing to himself. But he was in a good mood, and Sabine was a good kid. She deserved it. “Sure”

“Can I go with her?” Ezra said.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go with you guys. Zeb! Hera!” He called back “Keep looking for the supplies we’ll be right back” At Zeb’s grumbling response they went on their way.

The art store wasn’t much. It mostly had traditional paints used for Lothal folklore art (Kanan was surprised the Empire hadn’t cracked down on that yet). It also had drawing pencils, sketchbooks, water paints, etc… Pretty regular art store if you ask him, but, of course, Kanan was never much of an artist.

As soon as they got to the store, Sabine launched herself into the place. Her eyes glued to the different materials in the various shelves. While, Ezra mysteriously stayed at his side staring at the store from where they were both standing. Silent. Huh

“So…” Kanan ventured, raising an eyebrow.

“So what?”

“Aren’t you gonna go take a look?”

“Oh no…” He shrugged “I’m not much of an artist. Besides, I just wanted to get out of the streets. My hands get itchy when I’m around big crowds”

Kanan hummed and nodded in understanding. After years in the streets, pickpocketing was as natural to Ezra as breathing, he had needed it to survive. Shaking the habit must be tough, but he was still making the effort, which they all appreciated. The less attention drawn to themselves the better.

“You should still get something” Kanan insisted, “You could use a hobby”, which was true, Ezra was a busy kid. Between missions and training, Kanan wondered what he did whenever he did have time off.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean something to do in your spare time, you’re really busy. You could use something to help you cool off you know?”

“I already have hobbies”

Well, that was a lie if he’d ever heard one.

“Really?”, Kanan said, incredulously, “Like what?”

“Uhhhh… I clean the ship”

“That’s your hobby?”

“Yeah…”

“And you actually enjoy doing it?”

“Yes” Ezra said, with as much fake confidence as he could muster. Crossing his arms across his puffed chest.

“Then why do you whine every time Hera asks you to do it?”

“Uhhhh… it’s… you know…”

“Ezra” Kanan interrupted him, Ezra had clearly lost this battle “Go pick something, I’ve seen you doodle I know you like it”

“It’s fine, Kanan” He said, in an exasperated tone, “It’s money we could spend on something else”

Kanan sighed, So that’s what this is about then. The kid still had trouble letting other people take care of him, but this was an old argument. He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath and released it.

“Ezra”, Kanan said, slowly and patiently “We’ve talked about this. It’s no trouble”

Ezra sighed then looked up at him “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” He responded, chuckling slightly “Go!” he encouraged Ezra by pushing him slightly with his hand on his back.

Before Ezra went to explore he turned around “Hey Kanan?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks”

The made him smile “No problem, kid”

The minutes ticked by as the kids went through apparently every item this store had to offer, leaving Kanan alone. He rested his back against the wall and closed his eyes. Today was a good day. It was just him and the kids and no one was going to attack them. Today was a luxury.

He smiled to himself. They really were like a family. He did consider them his kids.

“Oh my gods! Kanan?” A familiar voice cut him out of his trance and made him open his eyes.

The sight was of a dark skinned woman with deep blue eyes and a curly long hair. One that he recognized.

“Jadah?!”

Before he could say anything else a sharp pain struck him across the face. Yep, he was pretty sure he was gonna be walking around with a handprint on his face for the rest of the day. He instinctively reached up to grab it, trying to soothe it.

“Ok,ok” he muttered, putting his free palm up in defeat. “I deserved that”

He did. He really did.

“Yeah you certainly did” She said, as if echoing his thoughts. “After what you did to me I’d say you deserve more”

“What did he do?” Sabine’s voice came from behind him. He turned around to see her and Ezra standing right behind him, art supplies long forgotten. Great, he thought. Just perfect.

He had kept drunken past mostly hidden from the kids. He wasn’t proud of it. It was a dark time in his life. And now his past was staring at him in the face, in the form of a very beautiful woman who he had slept with a few alcohol-fueled nights then left behind as soon as he could. Although, in his defense, he had thought that she was a little insane at the time.

“Well, for starters, he...”

“WOW WOW WOW”, he interrupted her as soon as she started speaking, he doubted anything she was going to say was appropriate for the kids. His breakup with Jadah (or, well, his leaving Jadah) was due to a horrible misunderstanding. One that he did not want to explain in front Sabine and Ezra, “They don’t need to hear it”

“They don’t need to hear WHAT, Kanan?!” She snapped “The fact that you propose to me then left without so much as a note?”

“Ugghh” he groaned. Rubbing his face with his hand. He really wished the kids weren’t here.

“Wow Kanan” Said Sabine behind him

“I didn’t propose” he muttered into his hands

“What?” Jadah said, clearly annoyed

“I didn’t propose!”

“Oh yeah right now you’re just denying it!”

“No, I am not!”

“Oh yeah? How was I supposed to interpret ‘I want to marry you?’ huh?”

“I said COULD, I COULD marry you!” then he leaned in a spoke between clenched teeth “And considering the situation we were in I wouldn’t have taken it very seriously”. They had been together three nights the ‘incident’ happened in the last one.

“Oh so you’re saying I’m the fool for thinking you loved me while I had my lips around your...”

“Can we PLEASE not do this in front of the kids?” He interrupted.

“WOW Kanan” Said Sabine again, this time there was a slight chuckle in her voice.

“Sabine!” He said warningly, shooting her a look. Ezra looked puzzled. She just looked amused

“Who are these kids anyway?” She questioned, frowning as she said it, “Are they yours?”

“Uhhhh….”He hesitated, looking back at them. They just shrugged “Kinda?”

“What? How old were you when you got her pregnant? 13?”

“I’m taking care of them.”

“Who’s dumb enough to entrust you with their kids?”

“I’m a different person now.”

“HA! Like I would believe that”

“I am.”

“Really?  What sort of life changing decisions have you made since we last saw each other?”

“I quit drinking” Karabast, the kids would now know he was a drunk. Great. Just fantastic.

Jadah was taken aback, her eyebrows flew up in visible surprise “Wow” was all she could say. They hadn’t been together for that long, but she knew the type, the drunk drifter. Who spent all the money they won on booze. But she had given herself to him in hopes he would be different, she was thoroughly disappointed.

“Yeah” He said, grabbing his neck with one hand, looking down. “It became a real issue”

“Well what changed?

As if on cue Hera’s voice cut his response. “Kanan are you in here? What’s taking so long?,” As she saw the scene before her there was a slight pause and the she asked “What’s going on?”

Kanan sighed, then “She did”. Zeb was right behind her. Now everyone would see him humiliate himself. Great!

Hera walked over to Kanan’s side, put an arm around his waist and gave him a questioning look. He just gestured to Jadah in response, he was red. She then raised her free hand towards Jadah, inviting her to shake it. “Hey, I’m Hera”

“Jadah” She said, accepting the invitation.

“So… you and Kanan are… what exactly?” She said, a slow smirk tugging at the side of her lips.

Kanan turned to glare at her. Of course she knew what they were. She was probably enjoying this.

“Someone who he owes an apology to”

“Huh! I bet he does” She laughed and gave Kanan the do-this-or-no-sex-for-a-month look, at that point he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Listen, Jadah. I’m sorry, I really am. I was an asshole back then and you deserve to hate me. I am a different guy now. Hera and I have lived together for six years now and we have our own little family. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know, but… I’m still asking for it” He meant every word.

Hera’s arm tightened around his waist, she looked up at him and smiled. There was pride in her eyes. He smiled back.

“Wow, so you have changed.” Jadah said in disbelief.

“I have” He shrugged.

“Apology accepted.” She smiled.

He reached away from raise his arms in invitation for a hug. She accepted and hugged him then pulled back

“Have a nice life, Kanan”

“You too”

And the she walked away.

They all watched her leave and then Kanan sighed and buried his head in his hands. That had been embarrassing and a reminder of the time of his life when he was wandering pointlessly around the galaxy hurting people in the process. It was not a nice reminder. The one thing that made it better was when Hera put her arms around his waist again and nestled by his side. “You did good” she whispered. Yes, he would always be grateful for her. Without her he’d probably be dead in a ditch somewhere. Death by alcohol. Or drugs. Or worse.

He leaned his head against Hera’s and their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes and focused on her presence, that always managed to calm him down. They were both enjoying the silence Sabine’s uncontrolled laughter broke it.

“YOU…” She said in between breaths “You… proposed…while… while… SHE WAS GIVING YOU A BLOWJOB?!” and now everyone was laughing. Even the store manager who, apparently, had been listening to the whole thing. Kanan wanted the ground to swallow him up, or a lighting to strike or really anything at this point.

Hera was doing her best to contain her laughter but some giggles slipped out. She gave him a sympathetic grin and said “Come on, luv. Let’s go home.”  

[mavwren]

Post it Forward Week Three

Okay so I planned on doing this earlier in the week, but this is one of the more tricky prompts for me (Magi) to tackle because I’ve found that people who talk a lot about ‘their mental illnesses’ can tend to be assholes, and that in my case it’s mostly about depression and neglect so it can be kind of  a downer. I personally don’t like making people feel bad, so the idea of this possibly reaching a lot of people was what made me take so long to do it, but hey here it goes...

So as I think I’ve off-handily mentioned before, I suffer from ADHD inattentive and inherited psychotic depression, as well as anxiety and panic and possibly some form of learning disorder but I haven’t been tested so I’m not gonna say anything for certain. Also an abusive and over achieving younger sister. Anyway this all went undiagnosed and ignored until I was eleven, which may surprise some people (especially when I was very vocal about seeing things that weren’t there ‘cause that isn’t normal in any respect) so let me explain.

In elementary school it was very obvious that I had some kind of attention problem as I was scolded and given the exact same talk every year about how I need to try harder or I was going to become a failure and a disappointment. By both my parents, and my teachers. Yeah, the teachers said that to me. Every year. They’d pull me out into the hall during class work time or whatever and when I went back into the room I’d be in tears. And with the area I lived in I had the same classmates until I graduated highschool (except for the three years that I lived in Hawaii o’course), so they quickly made sure that no one else in our class ever saw them with me. This didn’t help. Because I now knew for sure that no one liked or believed I was worth their time. So I was forever labeled as ‘that weird quiet girl who never does her work’. Which honestly wasn’t even the worst thing, seeing as how I’m kinda a better person than most of them post highschool, which I know sounds like I’m the asshole, but anyone who graduated with me remembers the guy who got booed at graduation practice (and at the actual graduation).

No the worst thing about my time in elementary, (and my first year of middle school) was the fact that I was punished from a very visible disability. One of these days I’ll tell the story about my desk, but this post is already going to be pretty long as it is so I’ll just use the classic examples instead. Along with the annual talk about what a disappointment I was, there were also the vary obvious ‘watching you specifically because you’re a problem’ glares from across the room, taking away recess time, scolding me in front of the class for doodling during notes, banning me from drawing all together, and then making sure I wasn’t drawing by checking over my shoulder, calling me out for not handing in my homework- again directly in front of the other students, and just the general ‘not going to let you out of my sight because I don’t trust you at all’.

You’d think my parents would be a little more curious about all of that, but nope. They went and did the same thing as the teachers and brushed it off as a greedy child wanting attention, with a dash of ‘she’s just an idiot’ tossed in until halfway through 6th grade. So they went ahead and punished me too, not letting me play outside with our neighbors, putting me in places where I couldn’t see the TV and making me do my homework until dinner, and then instructing my daycare (it’s a military town so they do a before and after school program) to not let me do anything until they had checked all of my work. So now the kids there (that were from schools all over town) also knew not to play with me.

Now despite the way my mother likes to tell this story where she’s the one that notices the problem, that’s just not how it happened. I freaked out the teachers, my school counselor, and the school’s nurse in Hawaii. That’s how it happened. The counselor had me fill out a form and established that there was clearly a problem, so my mom took me to see a therapist and I was officially tested where it was established that I had ADHD inattentive, and depression. However looking back, those results were a little skewed because I didn’t know that I had seen hallucinations, thanks to my parents saying that they were just an overactive imagination. Anyway, that was the start of my treatment for my variety of issues. With the results we were able to also get testing done at Tripler, which was where I then got my medications from for my ADHD.

So fast forward 2 years and for whatever reason we stop seeing my therapist, but there’s no real drama.

Fast forward another year and well, we’re back in NC. And my highschool in Hawaii takes a whole fucking school year to fax my 504 plan to my new highschool. I had to text my friend in Hawaii to go ask the people in the office what was taking so long. I’m not even 100% sure it got there, because the school had me redo all of my testing again. I was then switched from 504 to IEP, which is basically a special ed program, but with a wider reach and honestly much more fun. 

Now this is when me and my mom agree that my medications are doing more harm than good to me, and my psych guy goes ‘nah it’s supposed to do that’ and we were just like ‘nah fuck you’ and left that clinic, so went without meds or therapy until I started college. Not because there was no where else to go or we thought I was cured or something, it just didn’t seem to be very helpful anymore. Plus they assigned me to a child therapist (like a small child therapist) and I was just like ‘bitch I am not a five year old stop talking to me like I am’

So how did a mentally unstable teenager make it through highschool in one piece? By being an arts nerd. No stay with me- I was a visual art kid so I was in the visual arts homeroom (with a teacher who had no connection to art in any form but was coincidentally the lady in charge of students with disabilities and generally just a bad ass bitch) but I was also a band geek. I actually would sign up for art classes to keep my homeroom, then switch them to band classes like only a few days in. Because I hate art classes

I’ll make a post later about the actual benefits of band- and marching band in particular but it’s kinda off topic for this one

Anyway I made it through highschool, was super hyped and ready for whatever laid ahead- 

then I started community college

and watched my world slowly crumble to bits around me because I couldn’t do anything. I had never felt that low. Which is really saying something. So I begged my mom to look for a new therapy place (even asked if I could have a service dog at one point and was told I was over exaggerating) and it took her two months to actually humor me. But you bet when I said one positive thing about birth control she set up an appointment for me in less than a week. Thanks stereotypes about women’s hormones. Guess what though! It wasn’t hormones.

I ended up with a social worker as my therapist, and I can say with complete certainty that there is a definite difference when it comes to the age that you receive treatment because  after you turn 18 it isn’t about what your parents want, it’s what you want.

I am now receiving medication from the most qualified person in the district, attend therapy regularly and am just in such a better state of being than I was before.

My doctor often asks me if I feel happy like I used to, but because of my situation, I wasn’t ever not effected by my depression. But now, I know what it’s like to live my life without worrying about the world and the people around me like I used to. I’ve learned that it’s okay to be proud of yourself, it’s okay to be honest with people, it’s okay to care about your own life. It’s okay. I’m okay.

And I guess that’s my story about my mental health. If you have any questions for me, or whatever, our ask box is open. Yellow knows a lot about psych stuff, and her mom was the one that hooked me up with the recommendation on my current clinic. Or if you’d like just me to see it, or just want someone to talk to, I have a side/art blog that you’re free to message. ( @punkrockstrawberry )