#and my favorite thing is relating what i do every day to what we think they did

[banukai]

Whenever I accidentally scratch my teeth with a fork I am reminded of the paleolithic teeth that were found scratched... ancient humans who would hold skins in their teeth and stretch them with stones.... we are the same...!

[girls-and-honey]

Hiya honey girl!

How are you doing? ♥️

I feel gay today, and I don’t have anyone to vent to, so it’s gonna be you I’m afraid

I feel so gay, I spent half the day looking longingly in the distance, and *sighing* wishfully

Do you ever feel like that?

Last week I bought a red rose from a dude in the street and offered it to a beautiful lady singer in a bar, and even if I don’t particularly want to see her again, it still felt good to do something chivalrous and lesbiany you know?

I like living my life on my own, but some days I wish I could do those romantic things with somebody, like holding hands and cuddling, and walking along the river, and maybe kissing a little.

Even if I’m happy by myself, sometimes I still yearn for the day I’ll have my own lady to offer my roses to 🥺

inkaaaa hi hi <3

I'm doing pretty good, in drastic need of a weekend. almost there!

!!! gay vents are always welcome here! oh to look longingly into the distance whilst sighing wishfully...

do I ever feel like that YES absolutely in fact while pondering my response I did just that asjdfkl okay I might ramble in the tags but yeah completely relate to be happy with life on my own but sometimes wishing it wasn't just me yeah I'm definitely going to ramble in the tags

offering a beautiful lady a rose I'm 🥺🥺 sometimes you just have to indulge in chivalrous lesbiany actions this is unavoidable. manifesting this for you, I hope all your rose offering yearnings come true!

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)

[lucidreamer-uwu]

Things that make them fall deeper in love with you | Brothers Edition

Lucifer

Sticking your tongue out in mischief, or when you feel silly, at him.

Poking his shoulder to get his attention and quickly moving out of sight when he looks, only to find you smiling at him on the opposite side.

Making him coffee.

Reminding him about tasks he has to do like meetings, paperwork, or student council things.

Asking him about small details about himself.

Your cute puppy dog eyes when you beg him for something.

Your focused face.

Mammon

Idly smiling at him. Even more so if you stare.

Genuinely complimenting him.

Recognizing that he isn't what everyone thinks he is.

Booping his nose when you're face to face with each other.

Seeing your reactions when you receive his gifts.

Making mischief with him.

Reading magazines he's in together.

Surprising him at his modelling gigs.

Your laugh.

Leviathan

Cheering for him in games, school work, or anything in general.

Surprise hugs from behind.

Whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Head pats.

Insisting on making a very elaborate otaku secret handshake.

Holding onto him when you watch or play something scary.

Rare moments when you make an embarrassed face.

Seeing you dance and/or sing anything anime related.

Being clumsy.

Satan

Sneezing softly. It reminds him of how cats sneeze. He thinks it's absolutely adorable.

Talking about your favorite books, which parts you liked the most, what you thought about the plot and characters.

Rambling about anything and everything that pops into your mind to him.

Combing your fingers through his hair as he reads a book and drinks his tea.

Kissing his forehead.

Taking his hand in yours.

Pouting.

Choosing him. When you tell anyone else that you're busy being with him to hang out.

Asmodeus

Volunteering to help him with his various self-care routines.

Telling him that he's even more beautiful on the inside.

Being there when those rare insecure times roll in on him.

Cupping his face, smiling, and telling him you love him.

Your "angry" face.

Intertwining your fingers with his and swinging your hands as you walk.

Sleeping in his bed.

Touching your noses and foreheads together.

Asking him to wear matching outfits.

When you touch/poke his nails one by one and hum a cute tune like a kid.

Beelzebub

The way your eyes turn into hearts as you watch him do anything.

When you try to challenge him in a determined way.

Using his arm as a pillow.

Wiping crumbs off his face.

Bringing him snacks at his practice.

Secretly handing him food after Lucifer confiscates his during a student council meeting.

When you work out.

When you're lazy.

That face you make when you enjoy your food.

When you cook.

Belphegor

Your blushy face.

Your sleeping face.

Your worried face. But only if you're worried about him.

Your panicking face.

Any silly face you make when you try to cheer him up or make him laugh.

How determined you are to motivate him.

The way you slide your hand under his bangs when you check him for a fever.

The rhythm of your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing.

Poking his cheek.

Feeding him when he's too tired to feed himself.

HI EVERYONE I'M BACK!! After not posting or updating the blog for about 2 months I'm actually glad that you legends still follow me uwu. Sorry to disappoint, I'm not dead yet >:3

Anyways, thank you thank you thank you for all the continuous support and love that you give me despite my sudden disappearance lol. I appreciate every single one of you 💕

UPDATE: I will do my very best to answer all the pending asks in my inbox and the ones that I've already started working on and are in my drafts ; w ; so look forward to it because I didn't forget about them <;3

ANNOUNCEMENT: As of the writing of this post, asks are currently closed. HOWEVER I will be reopening my asks when I reach 600 followers ^ ^ ! We are currently at 550 ♡(⁠ ⁠˶⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ꁞ⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠˶⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

I hope everyone has a wonderful day/night!! Love you all, stay awesome 💫

[traveler-at-heart]

Across the Natashaverse - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Summary: After you're sent to another world, Natasha has to deal with yourself, from another universe, and a very different life.

Other POV from this fic.

“Put more weight on your left foot” Natasha says, barely checking America’s movements.

Of course she knows this is important. Maria asked her to train Chavez in the basics of hand to hand combat. Her mind is elsewhere, though.

Especifically, you.

Natasha thought she was doing you a favor, she really did. Someone as kind as you could do much better than her. Agreeing to a date would only give you false hope, so she rejected the invitation.

It was foolish of her to think that things would be the same after that. You weren’t distant or rude, though that might have been easier.

Every morning, you’d still have breakfast with her, show her funny videos or tell her about your latest discoveries in the lab with Stark, which in the end, were related to her work as well.

You simply stopped sharing your interests, or going out of your way to seek her company. Long gone were the days of sitting together at the Met while you talked about your favorite paintings. Or the grocery shopping that turned into strolls through Central Park and ended in your favorite bookshop.

All that was left now were pleasantries.

“Am I doing it right?” America asks. She sure as hell isn’t, so Natasha shakes her head, hoping she can manage to focus on the task at hand.

“Stop” she says, stepping on the sparring mat.

“Please don’t tell me you want me to fight you”

“You’re punching the air, Chavez. The only way to learn is by doing. It will be fine”

The girl doesn’t seem too convinced, but Natasha starts with slow movements and corrects America as they go. When the intensity of the training increases, the girl’s powers begin to stir. A yellow flash on the ceiling distracts Natasha, and the next thing she feels is America’s fist colliding with her cheek.

“Crap! Agent Romanoff, I’m so sorry”

But there’s another loud thud, not far from the gym.

“Did you hear that?” Natasha asks, trying to figure what the noise is.

“Maybe”

“Take a break” Natasha instructs, looking around the room to check if everything’s alright. The team is still figuring out the extent of her powers and Natasha worries the girl just unleashed a demonic creature or something.

The redhead is so focused on the room, she doesn’t notice someone approaching.

That is, until she feels a hard slap on her ass, and a sultry voice against her ear.

“There’s my favorite ass-assin”

Five seconds later, she has the intruder upside down, back against the floor, gasping for air.

“Baby, I know you don’t like my jokes but this is a little too much, don’t you think?”

It takes her a second to process what’s happening.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, love” you smirk, all smug despite being knocked down by Natasha. “The weirdest thing just happened, I was going to get a snack because Anya was moody and then fell on my ass right outside the gym”

Natasha stares at you, as if you’re speaking a foreign language. And then it all clicks. The slightly longer hair, how you smell and feel different.

She let’s go of you and starts pulling your shirt by the collar.

“Hell yeah, let’s get naked”

“Where’s your birthmark?”

“I don’t have a…”

“You’re from another world”

“Ah, that’s so sweet…” you try to lean forward and kiss her, but she pushes you away. “Babe, I’m getting mixed signals here”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call for an emergency meeting”

—

“I’m sorry, she’s what?” Sam points at you, and Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose.

“She’s from another universe. America must have opened up a portal when we were training”

“Alright, so she just opens it back and we correct the mistake”

“It’s not that simple” Tony walks in.

“Uhm, guys. This meeting should be for Avengers only” you lower your voice, eyeing the man suspiciously.

“Hello? That table you’re sitting in so carelessly. Mahogany. Paid by me”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen this man before”

“A world without Tony Stark” Steve says, amused.

“Must be really quiet in your Compound” Sam says and you smirk.

“Why, no thanks to you. Not with all those super models you’re always bringing back to your room” you raise your eyebrows and Sam’s eyes widen.

“I date super models? I wanna go to her world”

Steve and Tony begin to argue about how that will make the multiverse collapse, when Natasha interrupts them.

“She’s messing with you, idiots”

Tony and Sam look at each other and then at you. You almost fall to the ground as you laugh. Since you’re not helpful, the team ignores you as they keep discussing the best way to identify your reality and correct the glitch.

“Y/N 2.0, we need more information about your… where did she go?” Tony grumbles.

“I got this” Natasha sighs, stomping to the kitchen. Sure enough, you’re rummaging through the fridge, complaining at every item of food you find.

“Don’t you have anything with sugar here?”

“You’re free to prepare anything for yourself”

“Not unless you want the kitchen to explode, Nat”

The redhead pushes you aside, while you look around the living room, inspecting the pictures on every place you can find.

“No wedding? Or Anya?”

“Nope” Natasha says, her voice shaking lightly.

“Why?”

“None of your business” she says, handing you a plate with a sanwich.

“Thanks. How did you know I was lying about Stark and Wilson?”

“Your voice gets all high pitched when you tell a lie” she answers, refusing to look at you.

“Huh” you mumble, taking a bite out of the sandwich. “Um. Is this peanut butter?”

“Would her Highness prefer caviar?” Natasha teases, but turns around and finds you covered in hives. “Shit!”

“That’s fine” you say, struggling to breathe. “Nothing an epi can’t fix, love”

You pass out in the middle of the kitchen, wondering if you’ll leave this foreign universe in one piece.

—

After leaving you at the medbay, Natasha goes back to the meeting room. She’s examining all the reports and missions that are related to multiverses. It’s a lot to digest, including all the quantum physics.

Alone for the first time since this whole thing started, she finally allows herself the chance to miss you. Right around this time, you’d be making dinner, and she’d be in the kitchen, pretending to help just to be close to you.

What if she never gets you back?

“Hello, there” a voice says. You approach slowly, knowing it’s best not to surprise her.

“How are you feeling? I’m really sorry…”

“There’s no way you could have known. It honestly never occurred to me that things like allergies were different” you say, patting her leg. “Interested in string theory?”

“Yeah, it’s a great ice breaker” Natasha says, and you chuckle. “You don’t seem too worried”

“The America Chavez of my world has had a bit more training. I’m sure I’ll be back home for lunch tomorrow”

“You could have said something!” Natasha feels the need to kick your ass again.

“Hey, I was gonna! And then I almost died”

“Jerk”

“What are you so worried about? She’s in a safe world”

“What if your Natasha gave Y/N a similar welcome?”

“Oh, I’m sure she had her pinned to a wall, only for very different reasons”

Natasha turns to you, alarmed. Her jealousy is so obvious that all you can do is laugh.

“There it is. I wasn’t sure you had any feelings towards her. Wanna tell me what happened?” you nudge her chair with your foot and she looks at you, annoyed.

“She asked me out, gave me flowers, I said no”

“Flowers, huh? Well, she’s more romantic than me. Natasha and I were pretending to be a couple for a mission and then I just blurted out I wouldn’t mind doing it again under different circumstances” you explain, laughing at the memory.  “But hey, if flowers and chocolates aren’t your thing, I respect it”

“It’s not like that”

“Then, what is it like?”

She thinks back to all the times you’ve made her feel safe, cared for, loved. You make it look so easy, but for the life of her, Natasha can’t figure out how to reciprocate.

What you make her feel, is too good and beautiful for someone like her.

“I haven’t earned her love” is all she manages to say.

“Natasha” you call, softly, and only speak when she finally turns to you. “You don’t have to do anything to be deserving of love”

There is silence, and then you take her hand in yours.

“Come on, I’m starving. Let’s grab some Chinese”

“Fine. No more peanut butter, though. I don’t want to fight myself if something happens to you”

“Now that would be entertaining”

—

Next morning, everyone is back in the meeting room. Apparently, due to some bad experiences, they’ve decided you should come back to your world immediately, before the universes collapse.

“I promise you, it will be fine” you insist. Natasha is the only one that seems to believe you, so you save yourself the trouble and spin around in the office chair.

“Can you stop?” Steve says, irritated.

“I’m trying to create a vortex that is powerful enough to send me back to my reality, Steve” but he still glares and you stand up. “Fine. I’m getting a snack”

As you exit the room, Natasha comes running behind you.

“Wait. I wanted to apologize”

“Steve is an old grumpy man, don’t sweat it”

“No, not about that. I’m sorry for… being so hard on you when you first got here”

“We deal with aliens and all kinds of threats.  It’s not so crazy to think that an intruder is dangerous. It’s all good, Nat” you shrug your shoulders.

“I just wouldn’t be ok if your Natasha had acted that way with my Y/N”

“Your Y/N?” you repeat, pleased as Natasha blushes. “Good for you, Romanoff. Get the girl. Trust me when I say, she’ll make it worth it” you wiggle your eyebrows.

“Such a flirt”

“We can’t help ourselves around you, no matter the universe”

You wink, and walk to the kitchen, leaving Natasha in the hallway.

Inevitably, she thinks about you. The one that belongs here, with her. Are you enjoying your time in that other universe? Will you resent her for bringing you back? Maybe that Natasha is more loving and sweet, and you’ll finally realise that she can’t actually make you happy…

Her thoughts begin to spiral again, until the commotion in the room breaks her train of thought.

“Damn, you fell from the ceiling” Sam says, looking up. A yellow portal closes just as Natasha opens up the door. Everyone’s around you, and when your face comes to view, Natasha’s heart almost stops.

There’s a little cut and bruising from the fall, but you’re back.

She pushes everyone, and wraps you in her arms. You return the gesture.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me”

She hugs you closer, smiling against your neck.

Natasha’s never letting go again.

—

“So, tell me everything!” you say, sitting next to Natasha as you drive back home. “Did I tell you I almost died to peanut exposure?”

“Looks like someone had fun” your wife comments and you smile.

“What about you, my love? Did you do anything dirty with my other self?”

“Well, there might have been some kissing and touching before I noticed…”

“Not to brag, but the other Natasha was on top of me” you say, trying to pretend like it’s no big deal your wife kissed another you.

“You pissed her off and she threw you to the ground, didn’t she?” Natasha smirks.

Damn it.

“Maybe”

Seeing your daughter brings you back to reality. Fun as it was to be in another universe, your life is perfect here.

“Mommy, are you cooking dinner again tonight?” the girl says as you carry her to the kitchen.

“Uh… let’s have lunch first, yes? Go wash your hands”

Natasha hands you a plate of what the other Y/N made and you gasp.

“Holy crap, this is delicious! Babe, not gonna lie, I wouldn’t have judged you if you fucked her against a wall after tasting her food”

“You’re such an idiot” Natasha rolls her eyes, sitting on your lap and stealing a bite of the pasta. “But you are my idiot”

“Always and in every universe, baby”

You kiss her softly, happy to be home.

[meo-eiru]

What's ur inspo for art? ur art style is so cute... any art advice?? Jajsjdkkaka, I understand if u wanna gatekeep 👁👁

I meant to answer this several days ago but couldn't find it in the sea of asks welp

Anyway as I mentioned before we don't gatekeep art related stuff in this household, artists help other artists.

Honestly it's hard to name an inspo but I do have artists I look up to a lot (this might be a bit long)

Kanisuke, you guys might be familiar with her, she's the artist of the upcoming yandere inside game Yandere Town. I know it's not out yet but I'm actually obsessed with this game and have even translated all the character intros (they are a bit old atp so there might be some mistakes) and actually if you see a Yandere Town related post high chance it's from me. Not only her art but I love her writing style as well.

Hakuri-sensei, their manga Sachi iro no One Room is definitely one of my biggest inspirations. I love the relationship between Sachi and her "captor" and it's the only manga I actually cried my eyes out while reading.

Tayu-sensei, all of their work for Yuugen Romantica (one of my fav drama cd series) are breathtaking and they've also developed even more since then, their current works are just so stunning and I love studying the way they draw hair

Shirahama-sensei, she👏is👏a👏queen👏 honestly I don't have much to say, go read Witch Hat Atelier it's an artistic masterpiece and a giant love letter to art itself

Furumi-sensei, another queen! She's the artist of my favorite Fate Grand Order character Ashiya Douman. I've even bough her art books before, honestly she is just so talented. I don't know what she was drinking when she came up with Douman but I need some of it

Usagi Routo-sense, another fgo artist AND JUST LOOK AT HOW INCREDIBLE THEY ARE AT USING COLORS LIKE??? HOW??? Their art is like cocain for my eyes I could look at them for hours

AU, one more fgo artist and oh my god guys this person right here is one of my biggest inspirations just look at their drawings. I'm not kidding I actually spent hours just inspecting how they shade outfits. I'd sacrifice my soul just to get a chance to watch them draw live

☝︎ FAN, an Ashiya Douman fanartist and god guys the comics they draw!!! They are the cause of some of my current biggest fetishes ngl

Oyo-sensei, an fgo artist and is also the main artist of 18trip. They have such a clean art style that's very pleasing to the eye. I especially love the reference sheets they draw.

Shibatora-sensei, she is the artist of my FAVORITE drama cd series Shinai naru Thanatos and my overall favorite yandere character from any fiction Seo Eito. Honestly if you know me irl probably the first thing you'd mention about me would be my chronic Shinai naru Thanatos addiction because based on what everyone says I start speaking about it within 2 weeks of meeting someone new.

ORKA, the artist of A Stepmother's Marchen. Anyone who knows that manhwa probably knows why she's on this list, her art has so much soul and passion in it, literally every single panel looks like a painting and it makes me want to cry just looking at it

82 Pigeon, an incredible incredible Korean artist, I think they also give art lessons? I really tried to get them but couldn't figure out how. They also have a youtube channel and I learn a lot just by watching their speedpaints

[feefivefoe]

Please can we hear your thoughts on what Bruce does/thinks when being confronted with his neglect by Jason (and maybe the other boys too)??

Thank you, and have a nice day!

Bruce is the one I have the hardest time characterizing tbh.

I think his first reaction would be denial? He hasn't been the best father, but even he wouldn't go as far as to forget his own chi...

Oh my god he doesn't know how old you are. You were...you were older than Tim but younger than Dick, he thinks.

Wait.

When was your birthday?

Did he ever give you a birthday party?

What wing of the manor did you sleep in?

Where were you right now?

Unlike Tim who starts the unofficial search, Bruce heads right to the batcave to find your official records. Social security number. If you worked anywhere or has anyplace legal to stay, you'd have to input that. He's ashamed he has to go through a government database to find it, rather than simply knowing it.

And just like Tim, he finds nothing. Which scares him beyond belief. Had he lost you already? Did he actually forget about one of his children and then unknowingly replace them? Was he actually guilty of what Jason had accused him of years ago, albeit to a different child?

In reality, you're living solely through cash. Plenty of individuals are eager to avoid paying all their taxes, and are thrilled to accept cash only payments on your rent, or paycheck. Legally, you haven't done anything since graduating high school.

Not necessarily hiding from them, per say, as you don't think they'd go looking, but just because you don't want to be known as a Wayne.

And god, there is so much guilt, fear, and anguish rolling around inside that man. He needs to find out where you are, and if you're okay, and if anybody had done anything to you.

He swears if they have, he'll rip the motherfucker to pieces-

No. That isn't going to help. So instead he checks every reported death within not only Gotham, but any city within a 50 mile radius. For the last 10 years.

As well hidden as you are, nobody can hide from Batman while he's concentrating every effort to find you.

He's hesitant to bring you home at first. How can he call himself your father after forgetting you for your whole time living with him? But his regard for your safety eventually wins out. Until then, you just get a concerning amount of money just...stashed in your apartment??? What the fuck??????

Dick also feels a lot of guilt, but he somewhat subconsciously channels that into abundant overeagerness. Instead of focusing on how many important moments he missed...that he can never get back with his first baby sibling...

...ah, he should focus on all the memories you can make going forward! He has to take you to all his favorite spots, and you take him to yours!

What interests do you have? Are you a go to the aquarium person? Family movie night? Spa night? Just having fun with everyone at dinner? He has to do these things with you! And then you'll be his family again, and he'll love you, and you'll love him-

In spirit, he shows up outside your door like Damian. But he is self aware enough to know that'd freak you out, so instead he 'coincidentally' shows up at your work...in the bad side of town...and his attitude definitely gives away it was planned.

He messes up your "I'm a nobody like all of you" persona you'd spent years cultivating, and by the time he leaves, all your coworkers and customers know that you're Dick Grayson's sibling...which means Bruce Wayne's child, but he likes saying you're related to him more.

Tim doesn't give a fuck at first, like I established. It really is a game to see if he can find you before anybody else does. When he loses that to Bruce (damn it-), he decides he'll just know you BETTER than the others to win.

So he starts literally stalking you and making a psyche profile, like you're a case rather than his sibling. Any interest you've ever listed in your social media is cross checked with any belongings of yours. Merch or posters? Songs you listen to? Any of that content, he consumes as well. He's going to need conversation topics with you.

I'm not entirely sure if he actually loves you as family, or if you're just a hyperfixation that's consistently buzzing at his brain. It's like he wants to dissect, then digest you. Pick you apart piece by piece so he sees every last skin cell, then make that information a part of him

Though, he'd claim it's the former. To him, there's no discernable difference.

He's the one who meets you at your hobbies. Claims an online friend brought it up, but hey, it's crazy to see you again!

Even though it's your first conversation...maybe ever?

He's chatting to you like you haven't been estranged your whole life.

And the look in the eye is...a little unnerving.

[apricotgojo]

Boyfriend Choso headcannons !

ㅤ♡ Content: Gender neutral!Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, mention of nicotine, just down bad cute boyfie choso ~ SFW ★ A/N - ilovehimsomuchthisisjustpurebrainrot

He's definitely the type to make those lock screens of cute photos of you where the picture changes with every tap of the screen - and all of them are photos which you thought you looked absolutely horrid.

Choso NEEDS to be touching you in one way or another when you're next to him - be it holding hands, locking pinkies together while you walk, letting his hand rest on your thigh, putting his head on your lap or even just grabbing your legs and putting them across his lap just so you can sit comfortably on the couch with him.

Choso has never and will never let you light your own cigarette. It's basically just a silent understanding between you two at this point that you light up both cigs at the same time while he holds the lighter in the middle.

He will send you random photos throughout his day of things he does; random bowls of cereal, him looking annoyed with a cig between his lips with the caption 'bored', pictures of flowers bcs they remind him of you, pictures of cute cats and dogs he encounters outside and oh we cannot forget about the delicious gym mirror pics he sends you where he's shirtless, hair down and has his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth with just 'done ;)' as a caption.

his Instagram is basically just you. no profile photo, no bio just photos with you, of you, you and your cat and every story is about a moment with you.

EVERYONE knows he's in a relationship. He will bring it up in every single conversation he has undoubtedly. "Nice weather we're having." "Yeah, my partner loooves the sun" or "I think i feel sick" "My partner felt sick 5 days ago, actually."

You guys have the cutest but cringiest nicknames for each other and have made up your own nonsensical language.

his favorite nicknames for you are "bunny", "baby", "love of my life," "love -bug", "pretty"

Choso 1000000% uses a baby voice with you and he acts like a little baby when you guys are alone.

he insists on getting matching everything - keychains, rings, shirts, underwear.

If you mention that you remotely like something just prepare yourself to get something related to it the next day. "Choso, why is there a big ass block of brie in our fridge?" "You said you liked it at the restaurant yesterday so i got it." "I said i liked many things at that restaurant Cho~" A small smile, "I know." That's basically how you ended up with a new set of plates, an unholy amount of homemade bread and 3 bottles of vanilla handsoap which smelled exactly like the one at the restaurants bathroom.

although he's quite reserved and quiet in public, with you he can actually be all goofy.

car rides with him are great -he's grabbing your hand between gear changes and loudly singing and dancing with you to your favorite songs.

your tiktok drafts are basically just you and him doing cute couple trends,

he WILL rap along to sexyyred with you every time she comes on AND he will put his entire Chosussy in the dance with you - even if he refused to at first.

he's quite overprotective - he would never hold you back from going out or anything but he needs to know every detail about your plan.

He has a resting bitch face - you're aware of that but what's really funny is that when you're out together with others it only takes a "Cho~?" from you to make his bored face instantly light up with a soft smile. "Yes, my baby?~"

sometimes he asks dumb questions randomly.

"Do you still love me? Because you didn't show me your liked tiktoks yet.."

He is constantly mentioning the future with you - what your house is gonna look like, your future travels, the pets you're gonna have and sometimes he lets it slip up that he wants kids. (but reassures you that he'd be happy without any too, as long as he has you.) <3

[diana-thyme]

SUPER Low Energy Witchcraft

I’ve been seeing a lot of low energy witchcraft posts, but every one I read isn’t really low energy. When I think ‘low energy,’ I think something I can do on my lowest of low days. Days I can’t get out of bed or even think sometimes. So here it is. The SUPER Low Energy Witchcraft Guide.

Sigils sites. I have found this one to be very good. They’ll make a sigil for you so you don’t have to.

Pinterest boards. Making spells or manifesting using Pinterest boards is one of my favorite things to do.

Spotify playlists. Similar to the Pinterest board idea, use songs to create spells or manifest certain things.

Emoji spells. Use emojis to make spells, making sure they’re packed with intent.

Hang out with your tarot deck. Or any divination tool, for that matter. Just having it near you counts.

Talking to spirits and deities. Tell them about something you plan to do for them, a ritual you’d like help with, ask for help getting through the lows, etc. Or just talk to them. It doesn’t matter about what, talking improves relationships.

Read. Read books you were planning on reading. Definitely do not ever go on Z-Library for free books. Never. /s You do have limits on downloading and it’s relatively hard to figure out on mobile, but if you can get your tablet or computer up and running, it’ll work perfectly.

Scroll through Tumblr. Or Reddit. Or Pinterest. Or even Tik Tok. Scroll through the witch tags, scroll through the tags of and deities you might worship/work with. Or just look at pretty plants. Think about what they can help you with.

Make a shopping list. If you need to restock any herbs or candles, note it down.

Just light a candle or two. Simple as that.

Make a pouch or enchant a piece of jewelry or whatever you want to do to help you recover from your lows before they happen. Touch them or hold them or even just think of them when you want.

Similar to above, enchant any aids (mobility aids, medication, pain relievers, heating pads and ice packs, etc.) to help you recover faster.

If you can, think about your practice, what you want to change, what you 100% wouldn’t change, how it relates to others’ crafts, etc.

Meditate. I’m not talking about some 30 minute guided meditation sitting upright, because I have trouble with them on my lows. I’m talking about staring blankly into space or practicing mindfulness or something like that. You don’t have to do it for long, either. Take a few minutes to chill.

If you can, open your windows. Or curtains. Or blinds. Let it clear out your space.

Enchant your water or foods to help with your symptoms. Draw a sigil with anything (oil, sharpie, air, etc.) on your bottles and above your food to aid in your recovery.

Wash your face and/or hands to cleanse yourself for the day.

Have a ‘worry stone.’ Take a crystal or rock or other stone and rub it when you’re anxious. Or, enchant it to remove negative energies and rub it when your pain is at the worst. The very least it will do is distract you.

Simply rest. Resting and taking some time to recover is the best practice.

Obviously this isn’t a large list, but I cannot emphasize the ‘simply rest’ part enough. As practitioners, we tend to want to do more when we’re sitting bored in bed. But remember, safety first. The quicker you recover, the quicker you can get back to your craft.

[wordsvomit101]

Just some thoughts on Lucifer's chats

Credits to @shyanimeboi and their friend for sharing, cause this just gives me a newer perspective on Lucifer.

He got me confused at first because why saying the obvious, every human has a name but then he started with Adam, Eve, and Solomon

It gives a lot more nuance to him and other immortal and long-living characters. It makes him so not human but also human in a way. For me, as a normal person, I can barely remember the names of the people I meet every day, but if they stay long enough I can remember them or I will know them through someone I have a closer relationship with, who relates to those I don't have a strong connection with in some way, it's easier. Lucifer in this aspect is like a human to me, he is a dude who lives life slower and longer, it makes sense why he and most other characters addressed MC as "descendant of Solomon" because will MC stay long enough for their name to be embedded into these immortals creatures like how Solomon, Adam, and Eve did or just another fleeting memory.

The "Are you not greedy?" got me thinking for a minute cause what does he mean by that but then, I think it could be an honor thing. It is normal for people to be excited to have someone to memorize their name, like wouldn't you be happy if your favorite celebrity knew your name, your existence? You would, it is something to be greedy for and to have pride in. While his second question also makes sense, because if you're scared of someone, you would rather them never know of your existence, their ignorance of you is your bliss and peace.

And that is some philosophy Lucifer is dropping on my dumb ass, BUT, it sounds to me like he meant, the kings and the seraphim are the beings that reflect on the concept that some truths or pieces of knowledge are not learned through conventional means but are instead a natural part of our awareness and existence. This lowkey sounds so cool and so true to them being the embodiment of inherence factors that everyone has, they will have by just the mere act of becoming conscious.

And I really like that we have this route with Lucifer, getting to know each other is the starting point of every connection, it sounds so easy but probably one of the hardest stages in every relationship. Since it is the starting point, everything could go wrong or it could go great, it is unclear what to do or say and it takes time.

And I really like Lucifer in this chat, I like the slow burn of this and I think the devs did him so well, they cooked in this.

[haechani4ever]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: bouquet ✧

╰┈➤ what bouquet i think nct dream would give u

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋpairing ot7 x gn!reader

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋgenre fluff

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋnote this is the first thing i write so be welcome tomake any recommendation or criticism

✦➼mark lee

✦-i think that mark gives flower not so often. he prefers to show his love in other ways like spending time with you. He will still give you flowers on special occasions like your birthday or anniversary. when he gives you flowers is not a big bouquet (or maybe if he is very in love with you) but always a very delicate one. he likes flowers like carnation, lilies and roses in light colors.

✦➼huang renjun

✦-im very sure that renjun is a tulip boy. tulips make him remind of you so thats why he likes it so much. i dont think that renjun gives yu flowers often. i think that he just do it randomly whenever he feels happy. i believe is something like he wakes up and thinks "oh, today is a great day to give my partner flowers".

✦➼lee jeno

✦-well, i think jeno is a variant of mark. but instead of just in very special occasions he will do it en every single "special" occasions. i mean things like if you have a new haircut or you went to the dentist. this man is really detailed and attentive. he likes every type of flower, but he always gets you your favorite ones.

✦➼lee donghyuck

✦-this boy obviosly gives you sunflowers. its his favorite flower and he will force you to make them your favorites too. i think that he gives flowers often, we have already seen that he likes to show his love by giving others gifts, so flowers are not the exception.

✦➼na jaemin

✦-im a believer that jaemin is such a romantic lover. he gives you only red roses, ofc, or any other flower related to romance. i think that jaemin is the member who gives flowers more often. he gives you a bouqet almos every date that you guys have so your house is now some kind of indoor garden.

✦➼zhong chenle

✦-ok, i think chenle would say something like "yeah, i left something for you at your room" and then you go thinking that is something simple and you see that is a giant red roses bouquet. he gives you flowers not so often because he prefers other type of gifts (expensive gifts) to spoil you, because, believe me, he loves to spoil you.

✦➼park jisung

✦-jisung definitely gives you white flowers and small bouquet. he thinks that flowers are just a simple gesture and you deserve more than something simple and material. but he actually likes giving you flowers so you probably will see him giving you a bouquet at least every three or two months.

[medusagorgongirl1]

I'm sick of this Fandom saying that Dick only eats cereal and that the only thing Tim can cook is a cup of coffee and treating Jason like he's some sort of michelin star chef, like seriously? that's it?

Dick came from a circus full of people with different cultures and backgrounds. Idk if y'all have every gone to one of those big weddings that takes place in your cousins back yard but fucking everyone comes together with food. You make the things you know and love and share them with the people your friends and family know and love. And also Dick was a kid that loved attention, of course he would sit in the kitchen and be entertained by someone while his parents were training. I'm convinced that Dick knows how to cook the most random, homey, comfort food dishes but like nothing 'ordinary'. Like that man can make the best goulash you've had in your life (only with the good paprika), he makes vegetarian momos that even Damian can't resist, his challah had more jew in it than Bruce does. But if you ask him to bring a casserole to a get together, he'll fucking bluescreen and buy a pre-made potato salad.

I agree that Jason is a good cook. As a kid I was poor, but in my later teenage years we were more middle class. That change in being able to buy ingredients, to actually make something homemade with is insane. I'm convince that one day he showed Alfred one of those '3 ingredients browine recipe' and asked if that wasn't too much to use and Alfred introduced him to the concept 'the more ingredients the better taste'. That said, as an adult I don't think he was making all these grand dishes. He doesn't live with Bruce, and frequently changes safe houses. He doesnt have the dishware to make these extraordinary foods. Like he'll make some fettuccine alfredo, but those aren't homemade noodles. He's not making a cheesecake, but he'll make a nice banana bread. I also think that he would be a bit nostalgic for the foods of his childhood like we all are in a way, but he would better it. Like cheap ass Ramen? That man is making a steaming bowl of pho. Baked potatoes? Creamy potatoes au Gratin. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? Fruit tarts with peanut butter cookies. He's not phenomenal, but he's resourceful.

I said this in a previous post but Tim can cook goddammit. He grew up in a big home as tween with an unlimited fridge. He did what kids do; make really shitty food until they understand cooking. He would thrive off of reciving praise from his parents if he informed them on how independent he is. I know he tried to learn how to make all of their favorite meals until he could recite the recipe word for word. And I don't think that left even after he became robin. Because things were shaky with Bruce for a while, and Tim needed to prove himself. He definitely found out how to make the most tasty protein filled post workout foods because he was determined to be a good robin. I think that as an adult a lot of those would stick too. Like he would know how to make a lot of standard meals, and knows how to read relatively re create a recipe. He isn't useless in the kitchen just because he's rich.

Stephanie is always neglected in these and I refuse too, I love her. I think that she would be kinda a combination of Jason and Tim, like she knows as a vigilante (especially one always underestimated) she really needs to prove she can hold her own and I think that means that she would care about her diet in relation to her workout regime. Her diet would probably consist of a lot protein, fiber and vegetables. But also I think she would be more nostalgic that Jason. Because who can't help but romanticize the sight of your mom making your birthday cake and adding a drop of magic that turns it purple. If it comes down to the frozen pizza or the frozen stir fry, she might choose the pizza because it's the same brand her mom would make on Fridays. She knows how to make the foods that are good for her (to an extent, similar to Tim in that way) but she would also be able to make more of her comfort foods. But above all else, she's a sucker for convenience store meals. She's a patsa roni after patrol kinda gal. And some days she'll add in steamed broccoli, but the nights she's really feeling it, she might just turn on some old cartoon and sit on the floor with her pasta roni.

Damian is more interesting. Always being wealthy has him thinking cooking a bit beneath him. BUT, he also how easy it is to poison someone by making their meals. I feel like in the league of assassin's he learned to detect poison in food and knows how to get it back up. But, it's easier to detect that type of thing with plants. I think he knows which plants are poisonous simply by sight, taste and smell. And besides the obvious reason behind his vegan/vegetarianism I think that is also one of the contributing factors. But I still think it took him a while to come around to Alfred and ask to learn how to make more of the foods he can eat. I don't think that would happen until after he has since how the memories from cooking affect Dick, how cooking gives Jason a sense of freedom and control, and Tim independence. I think he would come to recognize the importance of being able to do something for yourself without assistance. I think he would begin with shyly approaching Alfred vegan recipe he found (because vegan/vegetarians recipes are finally becoming more mainstream and popular on social media), and Alfred will agree because he wants Damian to request certain foods. He wants Damian to truly enjoy meals and not just tolerate something Alfred makes. So I think Damian would know how to make a lot of staple dishes, but also a lot of really yummy vegan dishes. But I also think he would have a slight nostalgia for foods more regional to Nanda Parbat. Specifically I think he would miss spicy food and that it would become necessary in his favorite dishes. I think he would be a sucker for a nice lentil soup, so spicy that only Jon can stomach it.

Sorry for the long post, but this has been on my mind a bunch lately.

[kittyandco]

something i've been thinking about for the last few... forever.

shout out to the people who identify so strongly with, and/or find the most comfort in, the worst character(s) of any media that you're into. some of us find connection and similarities with the most terrible figures that canon has to offer. often, you're expected to identify most strongly with the good guy, or aspire to be like them (and not to say you don't, because i do sometimes). but that often doesn't happen for me, and i see more of myself in the evil impacting them.

not because i think i'm a bad person, and not because i aspire to be a flamboyant supervillain, but i often understand their feelings, their mindset, i understand how they got there, because i often went through a lot of the same things they did, even if only emotionally. it often goes beyond sheer appreciation for me (though i often find them more interesting from a narrative sense). and if i were in their world, i might become like them if things were even slightly different. if i didn't try to unlearn the fact that destruction is the only way to get what you want. catharsis is a powerful motivator.

i think it's important to embrace the "they're just like me" perspective when it comes to characters who aren't always "morally sound," and i do unequivocally include the "unsympathetic" ones. we're always going to find fictional characters we admire so long as art keeps being made, and sometimes admiration moves into "i identify with this character because of our background/personality/etc.", and sometimes these characters are the ones you're supposed to hate and root against... intentionally or not, many antagonists are very relatable (though often in unspoken ways).

none of this is to say that your taste in favorite characters means anything about you as a person, because it doesn't. how you treat others says all it needs to say about you as a person. i've seen this first-hand: people being surprised that i am friendly and compassionate (i try my best!) simply because i have a deep love for fictional guys who commit atrocities. yes, my worldly experiences, and the way i view them, as well as my fantastic taste draws me to fictional bad guys, but at the end of the day, i strive to be the best i can be every day. i aim to exude the kindness that i didn't always get when i practically begged for it. on the other hand, you could like the most sugary sweet, do-good fictional characters ever created (and good for you! no shame here!) and still be a nightmare to those around you.

i don't like the idea that you CANNOT like these characters, or identify with them, without condoning some sort of evil or being a bad person. they are people (or robots, or monsters, or whatever they are) who did bad things, whatever their reasons -- here's no inherence about it, and i think that belief has helped me in trying to understand them. i try to practice this with everyone i encounter. and along the way, i actually find that we aren't so different

[beomcoups]

Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia.  Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did. 

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend. 

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you.  You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop. 

 I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night. 

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.” 

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.” 

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.” 

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.” 

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition. 

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?” 

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to. 

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off. 

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head. 

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting. 

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing. 

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them. 

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic. 

 You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.” 

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” 

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. 

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.” 

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.” 

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that. 

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.” 

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.” 

“Was it?” 

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future. 

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.” 

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

[kooruphobic]

WILL YOU BE MY VALENTINE? — armin arlert/reader

𓆩♡𓆪 tags : sub!armin, tease!reader, armin has a crush (on you), and is definitely helplessly in love, kissing, begging (slightly), vaginal sex, jean kirstein is a bitch, armin thinks about voueyrism(?), smut

𓆩♡𓆪 word count : 2.7k

𓆩♡𓆪 summary : armin has been pining after you for years. when the two of you end up alone in his room, he finally works up the courage to ask you to be his valentine. but in the end, he gets a little more than what he asked for.

Armin likes you. Everyone knows—Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha—it’s a universal fact at this point. Even people who aren't in your close circle know.

He’s liked you for years. Ever since Eren introduced the two of you he fell in love at first sight. Armin wasn’t gifted with the courage to flirt with girls as Eren does, so he’s admired you from afar instead. Everyone notices how he looks at you and how he blushes when you get close to him. One time, when your entire friend group was hanging out, there were no more spots on the couch so you asked if you could sit on his lap as a joke. His entire face went completely red in seconds. He managed to choke out a quiet “yeah,” and for the few weeks following Armin had to face relentless teasing from the entire group. 

Truth be told, you knew what you were doing. You always know what you're doing. Even though he doesn't think you know, it's quite obvious to you that Armin has a crush. Teasing him when you all hang out together is probably one of your favorite pastimes. You enjoy the way he struggles to get out the right words when you compliment him or how his eyes go wide and his cheeks flush rosy-pink when you flirt. 

If you're being honest with yourself, you might also have a little crush on him. Armin is very pretty. You like his blonde hair and how his soft blue eyes compliment them. His smile is super cute, too. He’s always nice to you (probably because he likes you) but he’s always careful with what he says and has never done anything to make you uncomfortable. You would ask to date him, but you find no fun in making the first move. Imagining Armin being flustered as he’s confessing to you is something you picture almost every time you see him.

Today is the 14th of February. It's a day that people either love or hate: Valentine’s Day. Since nobody in the friend group is dating anyone, you decided to spend Valentine's Day with each other. Armin offered for everyone to come over to his place and you did. You all played games (almost losing friendship over an Uno match), ate, drank, and talked about stupid things. It was like any other typical hangout you guys had.

Or so Armin thought. With the way his friends are, he shouldn't have been surprised when they all left to go “pick up” something. Jean was the one who urged you to stay with Armin, insisting he couldn't just be left alone even though Armin kept telling you it was fine.

And now the two of you are in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, talking about nothing in particular. 

“...And I always lose when we play anything card related. You guys are plotting against me or something,” you laugh softly, slightly tilting your head. You ask him a question but your words simply go through one ear and out the other. The only thing Armin can focus on is how pretty you look next to him. He eyes your chest and eventually trails down the rest of your body, practically undressing you with his eyes.

“Armin?”

You wave a hand in front of him, breaking him out of his trance. He realizes he’s been staring at you for a little too long, and he immediately begins coming up with one hundred different excuses for himself.

“I’m sorry, I just spaced out for—”

“What were you thinking about?”

You.

“I-I dunno. Just stuff, I guess.”

Armin’s cheeks are dusted rose-pink and he can feel the blood rush to his face. He’s praying you don't notice his flushed appearance (you do, though). You giggle at his sudden shy demeanor, despite him talking so confidently with you just a few minutes before.

“You can tell me, I won’t judge.”

You will judge. How can he possibly tell you straight-up he was thinking about you? 

“It's nothing, really. Did you ask something earlier?” he questions, trying to change the subject.

You smile. Earlier you asked if he had a valentine. You know the answer already, you just want to see him become a stuttering mess.

“I asked if you have a valentine.”

Armin's eyes widen for a second and he quickly looks around the room, finding something to focus on so he’s not looking at you. 

Of course, he doesn't have a valentine. He wants it to be you, but there's no way he has enough courage to do that. Armin has done the math. There's a ninety-nine-point-nine chance of him getting rejected, so it's kind of silly to confess knowing he’ll get his heart broken.

He’s heard it a million times from his friends every year: “Just do it. The worst she can say is no,” but that's just it. Every time a guy thinks the worst she can possibly say is “no” the outcome is the complete opposite and they get rejected in ways ten times worse. Armin doesn't have any personal experience with that, but he’s certainly seen what other guys have been through.

But then he starts thinking, what if you do say yes to him? What if the point one percent of you not rejecting him actually pulls through? Armin feels a small sense of confidence. It wouldn't hurt to confess…right? He’s liked you for years so why not just tell you and get it over with? He does have the perfect opportunity. Maybe watching Eren flirt with all those girls has given him some second-hand experience.

Armin stops staring at the pencil on his desk and returns his gaze to you. You still have your head tilted to the side, patiently waiting for an answer.

“...Yeah.”

The little confidence he had in himself left and was replaced with immediate regret. Why did he say that? He didn't even say it as a normal person would. His voice came out quiet and shaky. Where was he even going with this?

“Oh, really?” you smile again, a hint of amusement in your voice. “Who is it?”

“Well—”

“Is it someone I know?” you place a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. “Am I friends with them?”

Armin's heartbeat quickens tenfold, and instead of feeling the blood rush straight to his face, it goes straight to his dick. He’s hard and all you’ve done is put one hand on hand on him. 

You give him an innocent look and place a knee between his legs, acting as if you don't know what you're doing. 

“What's wrong, Armin? You're so quiet.”

What's wrong? What's wrong is that your knee is pressing against his hard-on and you're above him, hand still resting on his chest. There's no way you're doing this as a joke. It has to be on purpose, right? You're not just messing with him?

“You…you do know her,” he manages to say, closing his eyes and letting out a sharp breath.

 You lean forward and your lips ghost the shell of his ear. 

“Tell me about her then,” you whisper, “because it seems that you like her a lot.”

Armin swallows and places a shaky hand on top of yours, gazing at you with desire evident in his eyes. 

“She’s really pretty. I’ve liked her for a long time…” he trails off when you run your hand down his abs, but picks up again when you stop. “I haven't actually asked her yet.”

“Hmm. Why? Are you scared?” your voice takes on more of a sultry tone.

“N-no. Not exactly.”

“I think…” you tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “that you should ask her right now.”

Armin looks up at you and stares. There's no way you're just joking. He’s used to your teasing—Armin always thinks it's just to mess with him—but you’ve never taken it this far. You have to like him too, right? Why would you go to these lengths just to mess with him? He realizes just how embarrassed he is and how embarrassing it would be if he really asked you to be his valentine. Armin would feel like he was in the sixth grade again, which is definitely not something he’d like to feel. 

You graze your lips against his, cupping his face with your hand. 

“C’mon, Armin. I know you like me. Just ask.”

He feels his face heat up again. For a second, he thinks he’s dreaming because there’s no possible way this could be real. But it is. It is real. It’s real and you’re telling him to ask you to be his valentine.

“Will you—will you be my valentine?”

He cringes slightly at his words but seeing the way you smile against his lips makes everything worth it.

“Of course I will.”

Armin swallows again as you stare at him for a few moments. He follows your eyes as they move down to his lips. As if asking for permission, you move forward ever so slightly. He thinks about it for a moment, wondering what would happen if the others came back and walked into the room. How would they react if they saw the two of you like this, your knee in between his thighs and faces so close you can feel each other's breath? They most definitely wouldn’t be surprised, but if you took it any further than a one-time thing…

He decides not to think about it any longer and closes his eyes, letting his lips find yours and kissing you. Armin kisses softly at first, but eventually, you start kissing back, and he loses himself. The kiss grows sloppier but it doesn’t matter to him. This is all he’s ever wanted. The number of times he’s fallen asleep fantasizing about your soft lips on his—he can’t even count them on his fingers anymore. Armin wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. 

You taste sweet, a mix of chocolate and alcohol from earlier. It’s intoxicating. Everything about you is intoxicating. The way you smell, the way you feel, the way you touch. He hadn’t noticed you were running your hands down his body until you reached in between his thighs. Your hands lingered there, unmoving. He moans into the kiss, quiet but still loud enough that you hear. 

You kiss him for a few moments longer then break away. Armin is panting, his ears burning and eyes blown with lust. You’ve turned him into a mess with one kiss.

“Please,” is the only word he says, looking down at your hand still between his thighs. 

You tug his shirt, a sign for him to take it off, and he obliges. He throws it to the side carelessly, doing the same with his pants. 

You’ve seen Armin without a shirt before but you’ve never realized how good he looks. He has washboard abs, a slender waist, and a complimenting v-line—you can’t help but stare for a few seconds. You run your hands down his abs, trailing all the way down to his boxers. You hook your fingers around the waistband and pull them down, his hard cock lightly hitting his stomach. There’s already pre-cum leaking from his tip. 

“What do you want me to do, Armin?” you ask, wrapping your fingers around his length. 

He looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t care what you do to him, he just wants more of you in any way possible. 

“Anything.”

You grin and pull your shirt off, then your shorts, then your bra. Besides your panties, you’re completely bare. Armin admires how perfect you look in front of him. He’s touched himself to the thought of you naked before, but nothing he imagined in that pretty little head of his amounted to how good you looked in person.

You go in for another kiss and soon enough he’s pushing inside of you, slowly enough to make sure he doesn’t hurt you. You moan into the kiss, rolling your hips onto his. 

“Wait—no condom?” 

“It’s ok. On the pill,” you intertwine your fingers with his and press your lips onto his again. Armin bottoms out into you and groans. You realize just how big Armin actually is. He places his hands around your waist and hugs you closer, holding you tight as if he’s scared he’ll lose you. 

You start moving up and down on his cock and eventually, Armin starts meeting you halfway. The two of you waste no time taking it slow, he’s desperate for you, and—even though you haven’t really shown it—you’re desperate for him. When Armin kissed you your thighs clenched, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

The room that was once filled with you and Armin’s innocent bickering and teasing was now filled with obscene sounds—from how he pistoned up into your wet pussy to his sweet whimpers—it turned on Armin so, so much.

You squeeze around him, enjoying his whimpers and breathy pants. And just as you were both chasing your high, coming close even though it hasn’t been that long, you hear the front door open and the sounds of your friend's laughter follow. Armin stops and looks at his closed bedroom door, a panicked expression on his face. A knock sounds on the door, Connie’s voice coming from the other side.

“Are you two good in there?”

Armin opens his mouth to answer but only a broken sob comes out as you slam your hips back down onto him. You continue, smiling down at him, acting like nothing is wrong. He looks at you with his eyes widened, biting his hand to stop himself from letting out any more sounds.

“Go on, answer him. You don’t want him to think there’s anything wrong, do you?” 

He grabs your waist with his free hand in an attempt to stop you, but he’s so weak from the pleasure that it does absolutely nothing. Tears prick at his eyes, from the embarrassment of being almost caught by one of his friends and how good he feels.

“I bet you secretly want it to happen. For Connie to come in here and see what we’re doing.”

You’re right, he does secretly want it to happen. He wants Connie to open the door and see the expression on his face at the sight of the two of you. He wants him to see the way you go down onto his cock, taking him so well and him enjoying everyone second of it. Armin isn’t even thinking straight anymore, purely driven by lust. He begins to thrust back up into you, tears rolling down his cheeks. Everything feels better than before; you feel impossibly tighter around him and he feels so good. There are no other words to describe it. 

“Hello?”

“We’re fine. Just give us a few moments, we’re talking about somethi—”

Armin stops mid-sentence because feels close, hips stuttering. He feels the way your pussy spasms around him and notices the way your eyes roll back. You’ve already come but he’s not done yet.

“I’m sorry,” is all he manages to choke out as he continues to push into you. He grabs your hips again and thrusts roughly, his rhythm growing messy and inconsistent. You’re overstimulated and you try to say something, but your jaw goes slack as he keeps going. He chases the high he was so close to earlier and finally reaches it, a string of broken sobs and moans coming spilling from his mouth. Armin’s loud and he knows it, but it doesn’t matter to him anymore. He pulls you into one final, messy kiss and closes his eyes, breath heavy. 

There’s a moment of silence and suddenly you hear roars of laughter through the door. 

“I fucking told you! You all owe me fifty dollars,” Jean’s voice echoes through the house, followed by a chorus of groans from the rest of your friends.

“You’re such a fucking bitch, dude.” Connie’s voice is clear at first, becoming quieter and muffled as he moves away from the bedroom door.

You look at Armin and he looks at you. You laugh and he gives you a shy, embarrassed smile.

“Oops.”

𓆩♡𓆪 note : this was supposed to be posted on valentines day. . .obviously. i posted it on ao3 on feb 15, and decided to post here too after awhile.

happy late valentines day!

[punctuation-completionist]

i have a plan for punctuation day everyone! so here's what i want you all to do!

my goal for the day is to get punctuation trending. is this too ambitious? maybe, but i don't care. i want everyone to appreciate punctuation a little

what are some things i can do you ask? well let's look at some things i could think of:—

you can make a post with every punctuation on it (but try, and here's the hard part) to put some text around it and not just list them all out

you can make up a new punctuation mark! for inspiration i would look at the works of people like hervé bazin, martin k specktor, or other people who tried to invent new punctuation

you can make a post about your favorite punctuation mark and why you like it

you can post anything related to punctuation really, those were my ideas but feel free to. i dunno. dress up as an interrobang or make art or something. go wild

so everyone! mark your calendars! september twenty fourth is the day we get #punctuation trending!