#and i keep second-guessing myself

[ozzgin]

Does anyone else struggle with the ever-frustrating combo of loving the horror genre but being too anxious to actually play horror games? It's not even fear per se, I can sit back and watch someone else without issue; yet, if I have to actively do it myself, I get stressed tf out. I cannot perform under pressure. I cannot be perceived. I want to enjoy the terrors from an uninvolved distance.

[hanafubukki]

Summary: You never expected your cute bunny costume to elicit this type of reaction from Lilia Vanrouge.

After returning from Deuce’s hometown, you and Silver decided to show off your costumes to Lilia and the others.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at the time. Lilia commented how cute the outfits were while taking a bunch of pictures.

But you knew something was off as you spoke to Malleus, seeing those magenta eyes watching your every move.

A shiver went up your spine.

You swore you saw a fanged smirk from the corner of your eye.

Breath in.

Breathe out.

Melodic laughter fill the air as you ran.

You remember how Lilia cornered you right before this game of his.

Hand cupping your face as he leaned into you, “Run, my cute rabbit, run as fast as you can.”

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

You knew he was playing with you.

Could catch you any minute.

The light touch at your back or your ears teased how close he is to you this whole time.

How it was his choice to allow you to run.

But if you turned this corner…

A stream of water came to view.

“Oh?”

You flung yourself into the water as quick as you could.

The air stilled.

Before laughter broke out.

“Clever little prey. I went too easy on you.”

“I caught you~”

Fuck.

You were so close.

Gasps filled the air.

Clawed fingers wipes the tears clinging to your lashes.

Your outfit in tatters around you.

He couldn’t help the low chuckle escape him.

You were such a cunning prey.

And now? Such a delicious one.

He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

You had his blood pumping during the hunt and he planned on using this extra energy on you.

“Lilia…”

“Hm?”

“Plea- Ah!”

“Not yet Beloved, I’m far from done.”

His hunger was far from satisfied.

Oh Bunny event, how you entice me so with bunnies💞💞💚💚

[heich0e]

clit kisser is genuinely the highest honour i can bestow upon a man

[drop-dead-dropout]

OKAY KDJEHDHDNDZHXHX I'M DONE WITH THAT FIC NOW HERE IT IS LOL

it's like 1.5k words (look I'm trying to write longer fics but there's only so much you can write when it's just One Guy Talking okay 💔)

I just made up a fake birthday for kim, I don't think he has a canon one? lmk if I'm wrong. also I am so so sorry for the random references to a le retour fic in my drafts which is probably never going to get finished... maybe one day lmao

April 19, '78

"I made it, Harry," you whisper reverently. Talking any louder is hard these days, decades of smoking finally catching up to you, and besides, you know he can hear you anyways.

(He can always hear you.)

"You never said, but I don't think you believed I would. Honestly, I don't blame you. I didn't either. It was a fantasy, a story I could tell myself when I was afraid. When I wanted to imagine that everything could turn out alright. But I made it. Seventy years old in a free Revachol— well, a mostly-free Revachol, in any case. And still on two feet, no less!" You set your cane on the ground and sit down on the grass, feeling a sigh rattle in your chest. "Jean says hello. Don't worry, he'll come back to see you next week, but... It just hit him. That this summer, he'll be the same age as you were. I think he needs a moment." Stretching your arms over your head, a slight groan escapes you, your aged limbs protesting the strain. "They had him and I give a talk at some local high school. Did I tell you that? Oh, you'd laugh and laugh if you met those kids. They had so many questions, and almost all of them were very silly."

Time passes. It tends to do that. A gentle spring breeze rustles the branches of the trees above you, and you inhale, a wave of calm overtaking you. You come here as often as you can, rambling for far too long about any old thing that pops into your head. You like to think he'd appreciate it, and... It's the only place you feel at home these days.

(You wonder if this is what palesickness feels like. A bone-deep ache that you can't quite bring yourself to hate. A fond smile on your lips even as grief and yearning gnaw through your ankles like twin dogs, starving and desperate. A tender feeling in your chest as you return to your memories again and again, the green of his eyes catching the light, his arms around you, the way he said your name.)

(You don't dwell on it.)

"And yes, they did ask about you." Your voice is lilting, smug, because you know he would've asked. "The three of us are something of a legend around here, you know, especially you. Apparently evacuating a whole city, through a section of underground tunneling that no one was even sure still existed is, ah, mildly impressive. Though most of the kids were more interested in seeing if the rumors were true— about the amnesia, and the voices especially. I wanted to be honest, and Jean seemed more than happy to reminisce. But the teachers were shooting us dirty looks for telling their young and impressionable pupils about such fantastical things, so we had to keep it vague."

As you take off your glasses for a moment to wipe away a few stubborn smudges on the lenses, you blink a few times, disoriented at your sudden loss of vision. "Speaking of our reputations, did you know they have a saying these days? Le rêveur, l'aviateur, le commandant. You, me, and Jean's old titles. It basically means 'to envision what must be done, to carry yourself to your goal, and to have the strength to see it through'. I heard someone say it the other day and I turned towards them, as if they were calling my name..." You chuckle, shaking your head. "... I suppose it still shocks me sometimes, how much we accomplished. How much we mattered."

Tilting your head up, you try to make out shapes in the clouds, the way he always used to. It's a fruitless endeavor— your distance vision may be relatively intact, but you never had his imagination. But that's alright. Even if the sky is just a meaningless swirl of colors, it's still beautiful to you. "Anyways, I'm getting off-topic. I meant to tell you, at one point they asked about us. What I was to you. How I knew so much. Why we were always so close." A light puff of amusement escapes you, despite yourself. "I swear Jean was almost purple, the way he held in his laughter. Mister Kitsuragi, my sister says you were secretly brothers, but Jessica's mum told me his eyes were green, and your eyes aren't green. Were you adopted? Kids say the funniest things. If this were a decade ago, if I was still RCM, I would've just lied. Though perhaps not with such an improbable explanation. It's just..."

Your left hand drifts up, out of habit, to the twine around your neck.

But you don't wear the ring on your neck anymore, do you? You wear it on your finger, where it should be. Because you can.

"When Toussaint, the lazy old fool, finally got around to marriage equality back in '71, I personally requested that same week for the judiciary to make it official for us. I doubt they would've bothered for anyone else. It's posthumous, after all... Not useful for much other than sentiment, and a bit of an odd request either way. But, like I said before, our names carry a lot of weight." A wistful smile tugs at your lips. "So, when that child asked me that ridiculous question, up on that stage in front of a crowd of nearly two thousand, I showed them my ring and I called myself your husband for the first time. And no, it doesn't count that we were already saying it to each other," you quip. "It went over well. I wasn't worried, of course. It's '78; two men being in love is hardly a matter of life or death these days. But... It made me miss you. Not in the quiet way I always do, but in a way that hurts like it hasn't hurt in years." You swallow, more embarrassed by the naked longing in your voice than the admission itself. "So I've brought you something. Isn't that funny? Giving you a gift on my birthday. You'll have a lot to make up for when I see you again." The chiding words are undercut by the grin you can't quite hide as you dig through your messenger bag.

When you find what you're looking for— a weathered Mnemotechnique A6, torn in a few places, practically ancient— you place it on the ground in front of him, opening the cover to admire the flower pressed into its first page. "I can't believe I managed to hold on to this old thing. It's from when we first met, in Martinaise. Jean had the idea to press a flower in, so I picked a may bell. I thought you'd like it— you always used to like them, and I suppose they've grown on me, too."

Closing the notebook, you slide it closer to him, warmth blooming in your lungs like the first drag of a cigarette on a cold night. "So, let me promise you something, as if we were young fools in love, rather than the relics of the past we are." You reach out and rest your hand on the headstone, tender, like you're cupping his cheek. "I'll find you again, Harrier. I promise I will return to your side."

Bracing yourself, you attempt to stand up, but a jolt of pain sparking up your unsteady legs forces you grit your teeth and rest your achy bones for a moment.

(You try not to be secretly grateful for the excuse to stay just a bit longer. You fail.)

With a breath of laughter, you add under your breath, "Sooner rather than later, I think. But, it's as they say: après la vie, la mort..."

You lean forward and press your lips against cold, porous rock.

Somehow, for a brief moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were kissing him on the forehead— bidding him farewell, or perhaps goodnight. You like the second option better.

(You hope the morning comes soon.)

"... Après la mort, toi," you say, altering the line. It feels right. There is nothing after the pale, and you can't possibly know what's after death, but you know one thing: you will see him again. Pulling back, you stare for a moment at the words on his grave— you can't read it this close, but you already know exactly what it says, tracing your fingers over the indented lettering.

HARRIER DU BOIS

AGED 61 ('07-'68)

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IS GOING TO HAPPEN

Finally, you manage to retrieve your cane and bag and get to your feet. After a few steps, you stop, turning back around to add, "I love you, Harry," because you've just realized that you haven't said it yet. You almost want to apologize for forgetting.

It's just that it feels unnecessary. Redundant. Everything you do is loving him. You've sat here with him and rambled for nearly an hour, and you've said so many different words, and yet somehow, at the same time, all of them were the same.

A million different ways to say I love you.

(He can always hear you.)

Not for the first time, you find yourself huffing with amusement— Jean is right, you really have become more like him, if your this is where your train of thought is leading you. A disorganized and poetic mess. You nearly open your mouth to voice this observation to him, but... You stop yourself. You don't need to. He heard you.

[w1dowz-w3b]

"I'm a boy." "I'm a girl." Okay?? Ich bin ich?? Und mehr brauch ich nicht?? Seht euch an??? Was ich kann???

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[mewkwota]

*I shout from a distance* "IS THIS FAR ENOUGH??" The answer is no because I am still within range of Eden's impact.

This is probably a little over a week's worth of sketches as I desperately wanted to fill an entire page with Juno. Well I already have been filling pages with him, but I want more full-body shots. And strongly needed to see his body swaying given its bell-like shape.

As you can see, my weakest point is drawing Juno from the front, and of course that's due to his need for perfect symmetry (and arm placement which I still messed up)-- so my crooked self finds that very difficult. But I will keep trying because I want to draw him.

[egophiliac]

so have you heard about the ride kamens app game? seems like it's gonna be a twisted wonderland like game with all the riders being hot anime guys now, and it's also gonna be written by yuya takahashi and produced by naomi takebe (apparently it was in development before geats), with designs by the person who did sk8 the infinity, so take that for what you will

have you ever gotten the feeling that a piece of media came into existence just to appeal to you specifically, or

(brb preregistering immediately)

(as far as I can tell you play as an agent who maintains a secret superhero base for riders in the basement of the rider-themed cafe that you run with your butler, and there's some other plot stuff going on but honestly I'm way past sold at this point, this sounds amazing)

[faunandfloraas]

Seungmin saying they changed song by so it would be easier for people to watch and listen and then me seeing people going "Yes! It's good it's on tiktok and shorts now" and I'm like. Oh. You're all so fucking stupid <3

[frogpotat]

"This is the worst birthday ever!"

"Oh, Charlotte... it could be so much worse..."

Happy new years everybody! Lets celebrate with some good old fashioned child murder :D! This concept has been done to death, but in the spirit of william afton im bringing it back even if no one wants it to!

I actually made him white, and then used multiply layers and shading to purple him. I dont think you can even tell lmao. Similarly, I spent a lot of time perfecting how Charlotte's braid looked, and then the details dissapeared with the shading ;w;. Such is the burden of the artist I suppose.

[apopcornkernel]

since you're so interested in filipino language, does it follow the structure of [subject + verb + object + extension] like english or does it break that structure? in bangla, we have the [subject+ verb + object + extension] but we also break that structure so basically we can have [subject + object + verb]. for example, we can use both "ami take dekhte chaina" which roughly translated is "i her don't want to see" based on how the sentence is structured. this is why i have such a hard time trying to follow the english structure of subject-verb-object and sometimes end up mixing both structures

to use your same example, the tagalog equivalent would be "ayaw ko siyang makita" or "ayaw kong makita siya" = i don't want to see them.

ayaw ko siyang makita: don't want (modifier) - my (subject) - them (object) - see (verb)

ayaw kong makita siya: don't want (modifier) - my (subject) - see (verb) - them (object)

the -ng suffix, which basically means that it's modifying, is shifted around according to the sequence of words ^^ it's kinda hard to explain in text sorry and im already super offtrack 😭

honestly, I'm not very equipped to discuss tagalog conjugation, because 1) my first and best language is english, and 2) it's so complex 😭 once saw a white guy discussing it here actually, its all in english!! ↓

so back to your original question: does tagalog follow the structure of [subject + verb + object + extension] like in english?

my answer would be a yes, with caveat, because it's possible for a tagalog sentence to fall into this structure BUT there are many ways to structure a sentence in the first place

for your sample sentence of "i don't want to see her", i can't think of an un-nonsense way to fit it into that structure 😭 ayaw ko siyang makita/ayaw kong makita siya is the most natural way to say it imo. "ako ay (I am) ayaw (dont want) makita (see) siya (them)" sounds so weird

but hey, i could be wrong—disclaimer again, this is my 2nd language and not my 1st sgjdmfjf

i also struggle answering your question because it's kinda broad hsjdhdnd if you want a follow up maybe a more specific one would be easier 😓 unfortunately i wasnt able to pursue linguistics so i lack a lot of technical knowledge and terms which might have made this easier for us both huhu </3

[theygender]

Coming to terms with the fact that I may not be writing this essay

[danieyells]

I have a memory span of a goldfish so I probably forget if someone has written about something related to this topic or not... but excluding Taiga who directly mentioned the topic to us, why does it seem that only Tohma and Alan are the only ones shown so far to know/talk about the existence of the spy and actively searching for them? I can only theorize that they were only being made aware of the spy's existence because something happened in Vagastrom that was caused by an unknown party and it probably directly/indirectly worsen the situation during The Clash... but it still made me curious why they were never seen communicating with ghouls from other houses about the spy even in subtle/discreet manner (either because they don't want to alert the spy or still aren't sure where the spy came from...?) and why none of the other ghouls seem to notice the oddity/draw their own conclusion and do their own investigation? (unless it is just... never being shown yet to us on-screen so we're left to believe that only Tohma and Alan and Taiga are the ones who know about the spy hjhdjdjdjdjdjfkl)

There's also this question about what makes Tohma and Alan trust each other/believe that neither of them are the spy himself... but I'm not ready to (over)think about this question so I will just believe that being a Vagastrom and (probably) forging their friendship through fistfights has created unbreakable bonds between them that can't easily be destroyed by mere existence of an unknown enemy 💪

So far we haven't seen anybody else talking about the spy, no! To be fair we haven't really found out who they would be spying for. . .they're trying to defame the ghouls as a whole but they're one of the ghouls themselves. . .to be fair we've only seen so many conversations between the ghouls without the PC present--and most of them seem concerned about their personal lives and missions more than any sort of greater plans.

It makes sense for Tohma--he has big plans that involve changing the Institute. Of course he's aware of the spy. And Alan is someone he probably trusts more than anyone. Alan is blunt and honest and straightforward--he couldn't run an operation intended to damage the reputations of the ghouls or be a spy or anything, he's just not built for it as a person--which also means he's vulnerable, I think. So he needs him to be aware for his own safety. And like you said, for characters like them I think a bond forged with bare fists is a bond that can't be broken lmao. He can trust Alan not to talk, even if he can't trust him not to let on that he knows something. But also Alan's reputation is already a mess. The likelihood that the spy would get too close to him feels slim to none to me. Just. Too big and obvious of a guy overall.

Taiga has his possibly stigma related Awareness--so if he just. . .knows, that also makes sense. He even says "do you wanna know who it is or keep letting them fool you" which tells me that he already knows and he's just not telling. He doesn't have to look for the spy, he's waiting to see what happens. He's looking out for himself and Romeo. Maybe the pc and Ritsu now too.

Also I feel like Tohma's interactions with Haku and Rui are supposed to be implicit of the spy situation, especially when Leo says someone(most likely Alan and Tohma?) are meeting near the "gross forest"(Obscuary, probably.) and there's Rui who can obscure himself in the shadows and admits to keeping an eye on people. . . .

But I assume that Tohma doesn't trust others with it at the moment, not until he knows for sure who the spy is. And everyone else is far too busy running their houses and living their lives to notice whatever Tohma and Alan noticed(or they simply don't question it or they accept it because 'whatever, our reputations sre bad anyway, how much more damage could someone else do?' or 'we're graduating soon anyway' for the third years, and they're probably not nearly as reliable in Tohma's eyes? I mean think about who all the other second and third years and captains and vice captains are. Not really the most trustworthy bunch with a delicate situation, especially if it's possible that they could be connected to the spy.

I imagine we'll learn more whenever we get back to Vagastrom or Frostheim!! But I think the spy situation is gonna have to be addressed closer to learning about the Clash. And I feel like we haven't quite gotten there with everyone yet, so we're a ways off.

On the other hand, Ed has a home screen line to the effect of "the ghouls are rioting again? They're so energetic. Anyway i was watching a youtube video." and next chapter is Obscuary so. . . . . . . . . . .

[ofmdee]

god i'd love to consolidate my social media accounts but the problem is:

twitter: +supports gifs up to 15mb, +allows nsfw, -but it sucks there

tumblr: +supports gifs up to 10mb, -no nsfw allowed, +better vibes than twitter

bluesky: +great vibes, +allows nsfw, but -no gif support

😔

[disorganised-bagel]

hello hello :) here is my rtc secret santa for @kittycatsfromzolar :D i didn't know what you'd want so i wrote some spacerap because you said you liked them :D i really hope this is okay :')

happy holidays :D

@rtc-secret-santa-event

Ricky looked down at the piano before him, gently running a fingertip over the keys.

Choir practice had just wrapped up for the day, the other members all saying their goodbyes and getting ready to leave. As she did every time, Ocean had briefly stopped by him on her way out to remind him to practice (wasn't that what these meetings were for?), and compliment his skills at the instrument.

It had been a surprise to the others that he could play the piano, having not had a chance to bring it up before being relegated to tambourine, but they had been more than happy to allow him to switch instruments if he wanted to, as a part of helping to include him more as a part of the choir.

The group had become much more tight-knit following the Cyclone, and as a result that meant that he was actually being treated as part of the team, which was nice.

"Yo! Ricky!"

Ricky looked up, blinking, having been broken out of his stupor by a voice addressing him (he still wasn't used to people interrupting his thoughts by actually talking to him, though he couldn't say it was unwelcome).

Misha had apparently lagged behind the others, remaining stood in the middle of the room, backpack slung casually over one shoulder.

Smiling, Ricky waved.

"Hi Misha," he said using his AAC device, which sat on his lap.

Misha grinned as he approached, looking between Ricky and the piano.

"You play piano madwickedawesome!" he said with a starry-eyed expression, bouncing on his heels. "Almost as dope as squeeze-keys."

"Accordion," Ricky corrected, flushing a little at the compliment. "And thank you! I love playing music."

Misha nodded enthusiastically, and Ricky noted the way he was fiddling slightly with the cuffs of his sleeves.

"You okay?" he asked, tilting his head a little towards Misha, who continued nodding.

"Yes, yes, I just... have a question," he gestured towards the piano. "I have been working on my next sick track, and I thought it could be epic to have some piano instrumentals, if you would be down?"

Eyes widening slightly, Ricky nodded eagerly, grinning.

"Sure!" he replied, eliciting a quiet 'yes!' from Misha. "But also, if you wanted, maybe I could try and teach you some piano? Since, y'know."

He waved a hand at the piano he was sat at.

Misha gasped, hands flapping slightly in excitement.

"Dude! That would be so dope! Thank you so much!" he said. "Only if you are sure, though?"

"Of course!"

At that, Misha quickly grabbed a chair from a nearby desk, pulling it up beside the piano bench that Ricky was sat on.

With Misha's permission, Ricky gently took his right hand and laid it across the keys, putting it in the correct position, before copying it with his own and beginning to go through the basics.

Misha proved to be a quick learner, easily mimicking Ricky's movements and picking it up - even attempting the sheet music that had been left in the stand (though he struggled to read the annotations that Ocean had scrawled around the staves).

He was also a good listener, encouraging Ricky to tell him about himself and his interests as he copied his playing.

After a while of this, upon finishing the general summary of Zolar lore that he had been giving Misha (there was nowhere near enough time to get too far into the intricacies of Zolarian society, but hopefully at a later date. Misha seemed invested, at least), Ricky realised that he had been rambling slightly, and decided to encourage Misha to talk, too.

"I'm interested how the piano will fit into a rap song," he raised his eyebrows, curious. Misha looked up from the C key he was pressing repeatedly, eyes lighting up.

"It is actually not rap!" he said excitedly. "I have been branching out into new genres, yo! Nobody can put Misha Bachynskyi in a box! Have you heard any of my new stuff?"

Ricky frowned slightly, as he shook his head.

Admittedly, he'd been meaning to keep up with Misha's 'BadEgg' YouTube channel, but it kept slipping his mind.

Misha didn't seem to mind though, smile remaining wide.

"I have been trying guitar," he switched to repeatedly pressing the D key. "Sounds sick."

"I should check it out, then," Ricky nodded, typing with one hand as he absentmindedly played a simple melody with the other.

"Yes!" Misha nodded, before gasping, eyes wide with excitement as he suddenly pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Actually! I should have the song I have been working on here somewhere..."

He began scrolling through his audio recordings, which, from what Ricky could see from where he was sitting, were named things ranging from words in Ukrainian that he didn't understand, to stuff like 'orphan a hole diss track' (Ricky remembered that one. Ocean had been horrified at all the colourful language Misha'd managed to use in the chorus).

Eventually, he stopped at one titled 'BADEGGS NEXT SICK DROP YO' with several fire emojis, and pressed play.

Immediately, despite what Misha had been saying, Ricky was still caught off-guard at the extreme shift in genres from his other music. True to his word, it was very different to the intense, overly-autotuned rap that he had otherwise been creating.

Instead, Ricky was nodding his head along to the gentle strumming of the guitar chords, Misha's low voice singing in Ukrainian over it. Admittedly, the audio mixing needed a little work, but Ricky found himself smiling softly as he listened, this moment suddenly feeling oddly intimate, despite the fact that he couldn't understand the words being spoken.

Despite how different it was from the other things he'd heard from him, it felt very Misha. Just... passion, not rage, he supposed.

Glancing up at Misha, he saw him already looking back at him, eyes softer than he'd ever seen them (Ricky wasn't used to being looked at that way. He thought he might like it). He was smiling too, tooth gap on full display, and Ricky almost found it comical, that this was Uranium's alleged 'bad boy' he was sitting beside.

Eventually, the last few notes of the track played out, and Misha shoved his phone back into his pocket, eager grin back on his face.

"So! What did you think?" he asked. "I would like your feedback. You know this stuff."

Flushing a little, Ricky signed a quick 'thank you', before thinking for a second.

"I liked it," he nodded a little, watching as Misha pressed down a chord on the piano again. He really was picking it up quickly. "It was different, but in a good way."

"Yes!" Misha pumped a fist in the air. "That is what I was going for. Thank you, Space Jesus!"

Ricky beamed at the nickname, one that had managed to stick for a while now, and still managed to fill Ricky with warmth every time he heard it.

"I think that piano would really take it to the next level, you know?" Misha added, leaning his entire elbow on the keys, before grimacing slightly at the discordant noise it made. Ricky nodded. "Dude, this is gonna be so sick! BadEgg and Space Jesus' epic new collab! The world is not ready, man!"

"Hell yeah!" Ricky grinned in response, raising a hand, which Misha eagerly met with a fistbump.

At that moment, however, Ricky's eyes caught on the clock hanging from the classroom wall, and he almost had to do a double-take. How had they been in there for nearly two hours?

Noticing his sudden shift in demeanour, Misha turned quickly in his seat (almost causing it to topple over), following his gaze to the clock, before sighing.

"Ah," he said, and Ricky nodded, suddenly feeling a wave of disappointment washing over him. "Time passed so quickly, yo. Should probably be getting out of here, huh?"

He stood up and began moving the chair back over to where it came from, rearranging the classroom to how it had been before practice (though he was careful not to disturb Ricky's crutches, which were leaned against a desk nearby).

"Thank you for helping me out, man!" Misha added, grabbing his backpack from where he'd dumped it on the floor and slinging it back over his shoulder. "You are very wise."

Ricky felt the corners of his mouth tugging up as he began packing away his sheet music, stopping for a second to type a response.

"No problem," he thought for a moment. "If you want, maybe you could come over to mine sometime? I have a keyboard at home." A pause. "Though... my cats chew on the cables a lot so I'm not entirely sure how functional it is anymore."

"Dude, that would be so sick!" Misha gasped, bouncing on his heels as he beamed at Ricky. "Thank you so much!"

Ricky returned the smile, and for a few beats they both remained in silence, before Misha suddenly leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

However, Ricky barely had a chance to process it, his face flushing bright red as Misha cleared his throat, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

"See you tomorrow, dude!" he said, pointing finger guns at him, which Ricky dazedly returned as Misha turned on his heel and left.

Then, after a few seconds, he smiled.

Maybe he was a bigger BadEgg fan than he thought.

[erwinsvow]

this works with any of them but specifically if langdon became an attending and july 1st there's a new first year resident who means well and knows her stuff and great with patients but has a horrible issue with avoiding eye contact and shaking like a leaf after every encounter with him since he's the scary grumpy divorced attending and she is just a newbie. walk with me here guys