#but my artist can't read cursive???
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i'm trying to gather fonts for the recipes in D'Jeet? WIP and my cover artist made me question some things so now i need y'all to answer me a question:
#my mama wrote exclusively in really teeny tiny cursive so i didn't even question using a script font#but my artist can't read cursive???#like i sent the original recipe to her and the fonts i was looking at and she was like 'that's really cool but i can't read it'#and i just#had a buffering moment#because what do you mean you can't read my mama's writing and my granmama's writing#we're lucky my momma and i don't write in cursive but everyone above the age of like 50 in my family does#and it's like hard to read cursive that i was v much toning down in my font choice#am i gonna need cursive translating print text in this book?#writeblr#polls
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Soulmate AU
"I can't believe you said that. You know that's going to be on my chest for the rest of my life now, right?"
Scenario: You and your soulmate meet. It's hard convincing yourselves that it's a good thing.
I'm timeskipping a bit, think of this as a sort of slowburn lol.
8,700 k words (jesus crhist)
Every person had spots on their body that marked the things that showed what their soulmate did that day.
Typically, they appeared at the age of five. Usually, they would be words and sentences, or pictures, sometimes depicting ideas. It was representative of what their soulmate was like - sometimes they were in different languages, or had patterns that only their soulmate could discern.
There was always one mark that would appear, and stay on the body for what was usually for the rest of someone's life. Sometimes small, sometimes big.
Some people were born with theirs. Others had theirs appear at the end of their life. They were rather random, it seemed.
Yours was strange. It wasn't a picture, and it wasn't a poem. It wasn't a sentence, and it wasn't anything compared to your family or classmates. When you were twelve, you had gained a large pattern on your back - something that if you reached around, you could feel mostly with your fingers.
If you squinted, you could maybe see it, but it seemed invisible.
Your mother had told you that it was almost like a scar, but it wasn't ugly. There was a pattern, but no one seemed to really know what it meant.
It was hard to really know what it was from looking at it in the mirror. To you, it looked like just a splattering of lighter and darker skin, now slightly raised in some areas. It was only visible in the light, and looked like you had splashed bleach on your skin.
All you knew was that it hadn't gone away in weeks. The doctor had said that it was most likely one of those marks that lived forever, and was possibly a sign that your soulmate was blind. Either that or some sort of fucked up artist.
It had left you angry for months. You didn't know why, but it upset you - maybe because you had expected a poem that would tell you how much you were adored, like your friend had. Or cute portrait, of some beautiful vacation spot.
You still wanted to dream. But instead, you got something had you scratching your back like a madman, trying to understand something that you couldn't. It left you impatient, trying to understand a puzzle that apparently, only a blind man or an asshole could solve.
Maybe both.
When you met your soulmate, you were going to slap the shit out of him.
-
At sixteen, you had debated on whether or not your soulmate was worth 'waiting for' or 'finding'. There was a big debate going on for decades anyway - was it worth falling in love with your soulmate?
Part of you wanted to try falling in love with someone else. Maybe it was because you had seen soulmates who hated each other - they had words permanently etched onto their bodies that said:
"I hate you" and "I hope that you die"
Seemed like proof enough that it was fake.
Your own soulmate seemed less like a real concept, and more like a cloud in the sky. There were never pictures of his day, or that many words to hear about. It was only feelings - there were cuts that had showed up along your skin, long lines that were in concerning places.
Once you had one show up along your chest, underneath your breast. You weren't sure if it would work, but you had written "Stay alive" and hoped it would show up along his skin. You wrote it in Sharpie and kept it there for days, just in case he needed the reminder.
He never seemed to have any words back. The only words you ever read on your skin were concerning. Once, words had shown up along your arm, written in a messy cursive, almost impossible to read:
"Go ahead and kill yourself. I don't need you anyway."
That started to convince you that your soulmate might have deserved the knife in the chest.
Despite this, you could never bring yourself to go past a second date. None of the guys who asked you out seemed to really 'click' in the way you really thought you would.
One of them was so bad, you had taken the Sharpie out and had added "I love you" close to where you remember adding the line.
If your soulmate really was blind, it was most likely a stupid thing to write - if it even showed up. But it made you feel better in the moment, so what was the harm?
-
When you were in your 20s, you had graduated university.
You didn't know what your soulmate was doing, but you had started to care less than you did when you were younger.
Before, it tore at you - there were a lot of dreams and ideas you had of what he was like, and what it would be like when you finally met the one person made for you.
Over time, you learned to accept that there was a chance you might not ever meet him. You knew people like that - those whose soulmates died, and those who never had them. Those who had met them late in life, and were still living good lives.
You had become content. In a way, your life had become better, knowing that you didn't need someone else there in order to live your own life.
There were friends you had. And you had an apartment. And now, you had a new job, one that was respectable and you had worked hard for. Life was looking up.
Part of you was convinced that your soulmate was either dead or still living a life that would lead to it. The marks that showed up were the same as when you were sixteen - they were lesser than before, but they were still scary when they did show up.
There were more words now as well. Something changed, as they were more positive.
"Stay behind me, I'll protect you."
That was one that had shown up today. Along your inner thigh, making you glad you wore shorts today.
Maybe he wasn't in a gang but was just a cop with a bad attitude. Unfortunately, your soulmate had never said his name, and you had no clues as to how to find him.
-
This job was great. But god, the military really couldn't keep a damn thing organized.
You might be the only person who knew where anything was at this point. Which left you carrying several boxes of confidential files to the office of Ouchi Fukuchi directly, because no one else knew where to find the paperwork that was needed.
He was also three months behind on all of it. Which was fine, it was only a matter of national security, after all. It wasn't an important thing, really. Who cared?
You weren't stressed about it at all.
"Do you need help?" A voice filtered through the elevator, and you almost cried with relief. The boxes were heavy, and based on the man's voice, he sounded like someone who actually could handle carrying them.
Unlike you at the moment, who was using every last bit of strength you had in order to keep them from spilling all over the carpet at the moment.
You worked at a desk. This was more lifting in a day than you did a year. Yes, of course you could use some help. Obviously.
"Yes. Can you push the number for Mr. Fukuchi's office? And also grab one of these boxes? If you aren't busy."
You were praying that he wasn't busy. Those few seconds as you waited felt like hell, but eventually you felt the man's hands touch your own, taking the boxes from your arms and relieving the agonizing weight from your spine.
Sighing, you leaned against the elevator door, feeling how it slowly lifted up to the highest story. Slowly, because despite appearances, the Hunting Dogs headquarters had disgustingly slow elevators despite the million-dollar planes they had parked in the vicinity.
The stairs might have been faster, honestly.
You could also have avoided the man's staring - the brunette was tall, and he glanced at your exposed skin as if you were naked. You turned to the doors, avoiding his gaze.
"Do you, know your soulmate?"
The man was blunt, his honey eyes staring directly at your wrist. He was holding the boxes as if they weighed nothing, and watching him made your back hurt more. What did they feed those military guys?
"No, I don't. Sorry, I know it's nasty. I feel bad for whoever Tecchou is, he doesn't seem to get along with him."
You tried to laugh it off, looking down at your wrist. Right there, you could see what your soulmate had said today, in the same messy cursive he always spoke in:
"Go to hell Tecchou, your food is always shit and I hope you die."
It had only shown up right when you had to go and deliver the files. Because of course it did - your soulmate really had to embarrass you like that in front of everyone.
You remembered when you were twelve you said you would smack the shit out of him. Maybe you would still do that, because right now it felt embarrassing to be stared at like that.
It wasn't your fault your soulmate had such a foul mouth.
Now you were going to meet the leader of the Hunting Dogs, and he was going to see what an embarrassment of a soulmate you had.
Thank god it wasn't on your forehead, at least.
The doors of the elevator opened, and you tried to keep your body straight and rigid, waiting for a greeting from Fukuchi himself. You watched the brunette walk in with the files, straight to the front of the desk as if it were habit.
You followed behind him, hoping you made a good impression.
"Ouchi Fukuchi! I am-"
Before you could finish your greeting, the man held a hand towards you.
"Tecchou, didn't I tell you to take a walk?" The older man was stern, and you stayed silent in hopes that he didn't turn his cold gaze towards you.
"...She looked like she was struggling." His voice was deep and monotone, and he looked almost bored from behind the stack of files he was hiding behind.
"So you decided to be an errand boy?"
"Yes."
There was a silence. You couldn't tell what was going on between the two men, but you were terrified. The look Fukuchi gave was terrifying, worse than was portrayed in the films you had seen before - he was scarier in person. His gaze was intense, as if he was trying to kill the man with his eyes.
"Sir, if I may add. They are very heavy, and I appreciated the help a lot."
You didn't know what came over you. Both men looked at you, and it had you putting your arms and head down, praying that the floor would eat you.
Fuck. You just needed to deliver the files and just go back to your office. You didn't even work for the Hunting Dogs, you worked for a completely different part of the government. This wasn't your business to get into.
"Sorry. Um...Those files, there is a file on top about their contents. They are to be completed and sent out ASAP. Requested by the prime minister. Apologies."
Your voice was firm, despite the sweat that was collecting on your palms. Without looking at anyone or anything, you nodded at the men and walked out, pressing the button for the ground floor several times.
This was terrifying.
-
The Hunting Dogs were hunting you. Ironic, but you now had one of them showing up at your office, wanting to 'talk' - what was there to even talk about?
You had only been there for maybe ten minutes at most, like, a week ago. If something happened in that facility, you had no part in it.
If you could, you would hide underneath your desk forever. But that most likely made them think you were guilty of whatever crime they suspected you of, and you did not want to seem like a criminal to them.
Their investigation tactics were more than infamous. You did not want to become another horror story.
Steeling yourself, you walked out, bracing for the inevitable interrogation that was about to follow. The man that was waiting for you was standing with a little girl - you vaguely remembered her as the vice-captain, although the man you couldn't really place his name.
His two-toned hair seemed familiar though. You might have seen it on a photograph before, when you were told about the group in a discussion about how lazy they were with paperwork. His closed eyes seemed strange, but tried to avoid them.
The man smiled at you, and it seemed more calculating than warm and friendly. The girl, someone you remembered to be known for her combat skills, didn't seem to be interested. She only blinked at you, bored at your office outfit.
You had to convince him that you were innocent. Of whatever it was that they had thought you were guilty of.
"So. Trying to get all pretty for me?"
The man was grinning, and you didn't know what to say. He had taken a step closer, and out tried to stay as still as possible, slowing your breathing.
If it was fight or flight, you chose freeze.
Keeping your face calm was hard, but you paused your breaths, trying your best to keep your body as cool as possible as the two didn't state why it was urgent that they speak to you. In the middle of your work day.
"Um. Is there a reason why you guys asked to see me?"
You were staring at the daisy-haired man's forehead, praying that he didn't notice that you were trying your hardest to not make eye contact with him.
"Did you deliver files to Fukuchi?"
The girl was bored, rocking her feet back and forth, slapping the man next to her with her ponytail.
"Um. Yes. I did."
"And did you meet a man named Tecchou Suehiro while you were there?"
"The brunette?"
"Yes. And tall, with three stupid tattoos under his eyes. Did you meet him?"
"I believe so, yes. He helped me carry the files to Mr. Fukuchi's office."
"What did your arm say that day?"
That was an odd question. That wouldn't have something to do with any sort of crime, would it? Or were you not thinking straight?
"Oh. Something about killing a man named Tecchou."
It felt like a pause button had been pressed at that moment.
Tecchou was an uncommon name. And Fukuchi had certainly called that man in the elevator by that name as well. How could you have missed that detail?
"...Why are you asking me about that?"
Tecchou had asked about the mark too, now that you had thought of it.
"Did my soulmate kill him?"
Either that, or Tecchou had killed him, and this was how you were going to find out that your soulmate was dead. He was dead and gone before you had ever gotten to meet him. Just one of those tragic cases of a love that never got to happen.
You steeled yourself for the news, taking in a deep breath.
"Jouno your soulmate is stupid."
The girl walked away, huffing and shaking her head. The man in front of you, Jouno, clapped your shoulder, breathing out a sigh.
"Tecchou is still alive. Unfortunatly."
The man's eyes hadn't opened to look at you, staying closed as he struggled to find the words. He was in your space, and you could taste how he struggled to find the words to say what he wanted to say.
Somehow, he was still smiling through the awkwardness, but you had started to realize-
He was blind. And your soulmate.
Your soulmate was always blind.
The strange spot on your back made more sense now. It wasn't some stupid art piece, but most certainly something he felt because he was blind.
"-I don't think I need to say anything. You know."
The man gave up on forming sentences, instead choosing to rub your shoulder and smile.
"Um. Yeah."
You spent nearly twenty years waiting to meet this man, and this is all you had to say? Wasn't there something more?
"Um. Shouldn't we do something?" His hand was still on you, and you didn't know if you should tell him to let go or not. This was the first time you had ever met, and frankly - you actually liked it a little bit. He was warm, and he didn't give you a weird feeling compared to some other people.
"Do what?"
"I don't know. We're soulmates. Shouldn't we like, have a moment?"
In the movies you had seen, there were soulmates who would meet and have a 'magical contact' moment. You couldn't look into his eyes and swoon, but surely he was having a magic moment right now? Wasn't he going to ask you on a date and try to live with you forever or something?
This should have been the start of...something.
"No. This is good enough. Honestly, I'd rather not see you again."
Or not.
His face didn't portray anything - he was still smiling, as if he was working at a front desk and not meeting his soulmate for the first time. You felt like you were looking into it, but surely he also wanted something more?
That smile couldn't be real.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. It's nothing with you, but it's probably best if we don't try to make this a thing."
He let go finally, and that shoulder felt cold as he stepped away. You didn't know what to say, watching as he slowly removed himself from the little bubble the two of you had.
There was magic, and there was no magic. It was a mirage, more like it.
"So. You just, wanted to meet me, I guess?"
"Just know that you're alive. And you are. Good for us."
Us. But there is no us, because there is no thing, apparently. Just a him, and now you had to suppose a you. A lonely, singular you.
"Sorry. Um. Yeah, okay. Then let's not talk. That's fine."
It wasn't. Or maybe it was. You didn't know what to think, because your soulmate, who you now knew was the Hunting Dog Jouno, had come and gone in what felt like a matter of seconds.
But you supposed that was the end of it. You met your soulmate, and you would never see him again.
So why were you about to cry?
-
Ever since that meeting, the universe had been playing tricks on you. Or whoever had deemed soulmates to be a thing.
Before, whatever Jouno had put onto your body was so abstract that you could barely understand it. Now it felt like he was playing tricks on you.
"If I die, I don't care."
It felt like he was playing a game. You had only met him once, but if he died, you would care.
You would care so much.
The petty part of you had taken to those high school days, grabbing your sharpie and writing little responses underneath those types of sentences.
"I care." and "I love you, stay safe." was something you had started to write over and over again on your body.
It likely didn't matter. He was blind. But if it ever showed up on his skin, you hoped someone on his team would see it.
Part of you wanted to write it on your forehead and neck, just to shame him. Maybe he didn't care, but you cared - he would have everyone know just how much his soulmate cares about him.
But you didn't want to wash that off. You also were sure that your concealer wasn't going to cover that up.
It would just make the both of you look stupid.
-
Your day was just going great.
Great. As in, you were stuck next to a shitty criminal, who was pulling at your nice dress and tearing the buttons along the back.
This was expensive.
God. What a dickhead.
And who was going to save you from this guy? He had some weird fucked up ability, and it was freaking you out.
You didn't really deal with that stuff.
This was a time when you chose to freeze again. You wanted to choose something else - to fight back and be brave, or to run, do something.
But you felt frozen. It was honestly hard to breathe, but that might have been from how your dress was pulling against your neck, restricting your airflow.
"Oh shit, it's the Hunting Dogs."
The guy next to you groaned, and you tried your hardest to disappear as you felt him tug and pull you around.
The gunshots were loud, and you were stuck choosing between covering your ears and pulling against your dress as the man tried to choke you with it.
You chose your ears, in the end. However many gunshots he fired, you didn't count, instead trying your best to become a ball. One that would be unmovable, immune to the hellfire that was happening.
Maybe if you became deadweight, he would drop you and run away. He had no reason for you, right?
You didn't know why he chose to use you as a distraction anyway. This was your day off, couldn't he have chosen any other person?
"Goddammit, I said get up!"
The man pulled at your hair, and you screamed. As much as you fought back, clawing at his arms, he started to drag you away from his little spot in the building, to the open area where you could see a whole crowd had gathered.
It was hard to see if any of the Hunting Dogs were actually there, as you could only focus on the pain you were in.
Weren't they going to do their jobs? What the fuck was taking so long.
This felt like it was taking forever. This guy was tugging you around, and talking about something that you couldn't even bring yourself to care about. It was something that a man who would try to blow up a building would say - they're spying on us, they're killing us, they made it all up. Whoever they are, and whoever the us is. It didn't matter, because now your day was ruined.
Maybe you were pathetic, still trying to fight back. The guy seemed ridiculously strong.
"Run."
The word was whispered to you, in a soft voice and with a gentle hand on your back. It might have only been a second - but the moment the grip loosened on your hair, you took the moment to run.
God knows where. But you ran. It might have been the fastest you had ever been in your life, if you were being honest with yourself.
You were just glad the nightmare was over.
-
Ever since that...event. You haven't had a good dream since.
It was hard too. You would wake up to the violent hair pulling, the smells, and there would be that voice at the end each time.
You would be crying, and each time the voice would say something different. In real life, all he had said was "Run" but in your dreams, he said rather sweet things.
They were things that frankly, you had wanted to hear. He had a gentle voice for a man, and it was hard to believe that it was the same voice as your soulmate.
You kept pretending that it wasn't him. As time went on, you were more hurt by the words he said, you started to pretend that the voice you heard was just a different man you had conjured up.
Something you made while you were delirious with fear. And now he was haunting your dreams, because you were a lonely and loveless woman, who couldn't stop crying in her kitchen because she was scared of something that had already happened.
It was stupid. You knew it was stupid, and you just wanted to be over it. But for some reason, you were left sitting at the table again, forcing yourself to drink a glass of water and play through another round of solitaire.
The knocking on the door scared the shit out of you.
...
Another knock.
Fuck.
Gettting up, you stalked slowly to the door, hoping that the intruder to your miserable peace wouldn't hear your approach the door. You wanted to pretend you weren't there, even if it was obvious you were home.
Another knock.
Loud ones. Impatient ones.
"I know you're in there. Listen, I just need to talk to you real quick."
Peeping through the peephole, you saw him - Jouno, who was clad in a dandelion bedhead and grey sweatpants. His hoodie was a strange faded color, and you were sure it was old enough to be his father's.
Taking a moment, you breathed as you watched him. It was hard to believe he was standing there, actually at the front of your door.
At like what, two in the morning?
You opened the door a little bit, feeling the cold night air breeze by. It made you pull yourself closer together, as the shirt you wore barely covered you enough to protect you from the cold.
Thank god Jouno was blind at least. He would see a lot more than he bargained for, you imagined.
"...What do you want?" You wished you could have your voice sound firm, like an interrogator. But you could still hear the tears in your voice, and it made you want to hide in your bed like a mole dug into the dirt.
You sounded so lame.
"Listen. Let me in, real quick."
He was smiling, the same one that you saw when you first met him. Like a fucking customer service representative, trying to sell you something. At two in the morning.
"I'm not a booty call."
"No, what? Just let me inside-" You started to close the door, not caring for the force you used. He could handle it.
"Bring me flowers if you want to ask me for anything next time."
Jouno fought back easily, but was polite enough to stay between the door and the entryway. He only kept half of his body there to maintain conversation, allowing you the ability to slam the door on him if you so wished.
It was tempting, at that moment.
"I need you to listen. This isn't sex or anything."
"Can't you say it in the morning? Some people sleep."
That was a lie, but you weren't in the right mind to speak to him at that moment. He made you emotional - maybe his whole existence was making you feel too much, but that was likely heightened by the fact that you hadn't slept well for the last few nights.
"That's exactly it! You aren't sleeping. Now I can't sleep. So let me in, because I want to go to sleep-"
He pushed through your hold of the door. He had both let himself in, and you had let him.
"You're so selfish."
For some stupid reason, you had let him into your home and had already started to cry again. It had taken so long to calm down, and now you were starting the process all over again.
God, you were really starting to hate your soulmate for doing this to you.
"What? What's selfish about that?"
"You came here just so you could sleep. Why don't you figure out a way to go to sleep on your own!"
The words were spilling out of your mouth, and frankly whatever you said was not even registering in your brain.
All you knew was that you were feeling a lot at the moment. You hadn't felt like this since you were twelve and had the big mark show up on your back, making you mad for weeks.
Maybe you were still mad. And you were remembering it all just now.
Or maybe you were just really tired.
"I did try! I took enough melatonin to kill a man, but you won't let me sleep with your stupid nightmares!"
The man in front of you looked stressed, and you wanted to feel bad. But at the moment, your mind could only think of the worst words to say to him, to twist anything to try and hurt him.
You took a breath. A deep one, feeling how you were choking your brain from oxygen.
Why were you screaming at each other at two in the morning?
"Listen. I know PTSD is stressful, but you can find a way to cope with it, can't you?"
Jouno put his hands on your shoulders. He stepped into your space, and he was so close you could smell the coffee on his breath.
Maybe it wasn't you, but the caffeine he was drinking so goddamn late into the night.
"I don't have PTSD. I've never been to war."
"Then what is this then." He shook you, as if you were the stupid one here, despite walking over to someone's home in the middle of the night.
"Just something I need to get over."
That's something you had always been told. And you were sure it was something that would go away. Eventually.
"See. This is the problem. You don't even know how to deal with the problem you have. And now, I can't sleep."
The man didn't give you a chance to argue back. Before you could say anything, he hauled you onto his shoulder, his hand traveling along your back.
Desperately, you grabbed at his sweatshirt, pulling at the fabric and praying you wouldn't fall onto your face.
"Where's your bedroom? You're sleeping whether you want to or not."
Without caring to listen, he attempted to navigate your home anyway. It was a little entertaining, feeling how he turned his body in circles as he tried to figure out where to go.
"That's the wrong way. It's the other way. On the left."
You pitied him. If only a little bit.
-
"Is sleeping really that hard for you?"
Your bed wasn't small, but Jouno made it feel small with just his presence alone. His body was warmer than yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as you laid side by side, with a few fingers space between each other.
Now that you had though about it, you never had really made space for another person in your bed before. There really was only enough space for you.
"I have a strange man in my bed, can you blame me?"
"I'm your soulmate, I'm not just anyone."
Now he wanted to be something. When he wanted it to benefit him.
Maybe you were deeply bitter about the way he rejected ever wanting to be anything at all.
"You really are selfish, you know? You said you didn't want this to be a thing, but now you're going on about being my soulmate."
Because that meant something. It meant having an actual bond, a sort of relationship. This wasn't anything - at most, you had vague conversations, and now he was just a man in your bed who was upset at you for a stupid reason.
And you were mad at him. And you hoped he knew that.
"I wouldn't do this if I couldn't sleep. We're just...people who need each other."
His voice sounded off. As off as you could tell, as if he was lying, even to himself.
Why did he say these things if even he didn't believe them?
"Do I really need you?" You said the words only loud enough that the pillow could hear you, hoping that he had finally managed to go to sleep, or thought that you had.
But you felt him turn around, bouncing the bed and pulling at the blanket the two of you shared.
Of course he heard it somehow. What a freak.
"Clearly! You couldn't even save yourself. You're lucky I was there."
He was closer now, his voice nearly kissing your ears. You groaned, his volume too loud for your wallowing.
"That's your job, isn't it? To save people?"
Waving him off, you didn't bother to face him - like it would matter, when he couldn't even see you. Instead, you hugged the pillow in front of you closer, feeling how the cold fabric kissing your exposed skin.
It was rather cold for the summertime.
"...I didn't want to know you more, because I didn't want you to be hurt."
His breath tickled your neck, and somewhere along the bed you could feel his fingers dance along the fabric, far too close to your shoulders.
You didn't know him too well, but his touch didn't bother you as much as you wanted to pretend it did.
"How were you going to hurt me?"
"My job. I'm going to die, eventually. It'll be a miracle if I reach 40."
His voice was gentle, without the tone of an insurance agent. He sounded honest; speaking as if he really meant what he said.
It left you breathless, and you had to remind yourself that you needed to breathe in order to live.
"That doesn't mean anything. I would still like to know you when you're here."
There was a laugh behind you, a tired one. Maybe he was only saying these things because he was also exhausted.
A lack of sleep was worse than drugs, you had once heard before.
You couldn't even open your eyes anymore at this point. It was just your mind fighting you.
"That would be nice. But I'm not the best person, I would just make your life miserable. You're right, I am really selfish."
"I know. But I think you're worth it Jouno."
-
After that night, something felt different. Your body felt different.
For one thing, you now had Jouno's phone number. He had texted you, and told you to call him in case of emergencies only.
You had learned that meant when you couldn't couldn't sleep, he really couldn't sleep. And when you couldn't eat, he couldn't eat. and it was an emergency.
Maybe because he was blind, his soulbond appeared differently. It wasn't visual at all, but instead tormented him with your own physical sensations.
It had you wondering if he had ever felt your pain. Or felt anything else you felt.
It wasn't a conversation you were willing to have just yet. You had just started to feel comfortable texting and calling him.
Having him sleep in the same bed was as far as you two had gone, and it had only happened a few times after. He had shared meals with you as well, after you lost your appetite from a bad stomach bug.
It was a strange relationship you had formed. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get closer than you were.
Maybe you were ok with knowing him like this. Like a strange acquaintance, learning weird bits and pieces about him, with unanswered questions that you were too scared to ask.
He was your soulmate. Maybe he didn't need to be anything more than that.
-
"You know, because of you, I can't really go out shirtless anymore."
Jouno was relaxed against the table, bored as he played around with the food on his plate. Recently he wasn't able to each much at all, and you had stayed over for the last while.
But it didn't seem to have much to do with you. Right now you were stuffed, and it seemed like it was all on Jouno at the moment. He had only eaten a quarter of his plate, and you had considered feeding it to him like a child so he would eat more of it.
"Why?"
"Because. You put this on my chest."
Jouno leaned up from the table and forgot his food; taking off his cotton T-shirt, revealing what you had always believed would be there.
Two lines, right by a little ugly scar - "Stay safe, I love you."
They were a little close together, not a work of art by any means. Your handwriting on someone's skin looked...funny. Almost unreal. It looked blotched out, and it reminded you too well of how stupid you were as a teenager, tracing over the Sharpie over and over again, hoping your blind soulmate would see it.
"You're mad about it?"
"It looks like a shitty tattoo."
That was your one mark on him forever. And he called it a shitty tattoo. It wasn't like the stupid daily quotes and one-liners, it was forever.
God forbid you care about someone.
"...I thought you got stabbed." You didn't really see the point in getting hurt by what he said in anymore. This was just how Jouno was.
"Did you feel it?"
"Don't get excited! No! Weirdo!"
You kicked him from underneath the table, easily kicking at his long calves as they stuck out towards your space. Always your space, because he was a tall freak who loved to walk into the space of others, and yours was his favorite.
The man in front of you only giggled, playing footsie with his too-cold feet.
"I see it. Every time you get hurt, it shows up on my skin. You don't really give me pictures or colors. Sometimes I see sentences, but it's not enough. But I always know when you get hurt."
Which was true. You didn't have his scars, but you knew when they hurt. Because the little lines showed up.
"Not enough? Do you like hearing about my day?"
The man's voice sounded ecstatic, smiling as he trapped your feet between his own, almost in a handshake. Maybe he was playing with you, trying to flirt when he didn't mean it at all.
"I like it when you say positive things. It's not really common, you usually are threatening to kill people. It gets boring after a while."
You let him win, instead choosing to take a bite out of his uneaten food. It was right there, and you might as well take your chance, right?
"Well it did help me find you, didn't it?"
"I guess. Yeah."
You tried to take another bite, but the daisy-haired man took you hand and led the fork straight to his mouth. Part of you wanted to kill him, if it wasn't his food you were stealing from.
Maybe you actually cared about him, despite how weird he was.
"Can I ask you something?"
Jouno nodded, starting to eat now knowing that you were willing to take from his plate. Watching him was funny - trying to be as unmessy as he could, while smearing half of his face in sauce.
It was a little cute, seeing him struggle each time.
"Since I was twelve, there's this...mark, on my back. It's not really something you can see, but something you can more feel. It should be related to you, since no doctor has had an explanation for it."
Saying that was strange. The culprit was right in front of you, and now you were asking him politely, despite him being a man who broke into your home at least three times now.
"What do you think it is?" He spoke with his mouthful and no table manners, and at this rate you would rather have him eat with his hands.
"I don't know! Some fucked up masterpiece by a blind asshole I'm attached to for life. If you're an artist, I'm smacking the shit out of you."
You were starting to remember that promise when you were twelve. It really irked you that you hadn't kept to it yet.
"What? Why?"
"Because it's annoying."
Since it showed up, it ruined a lot of things for you - your expectations of your relationship, your fantasies, your dreams. It was really a bad premonition, because Jouno was just like that mark - fucking impossible to understand. And stuck to you for life.
"I can't believe you think the mark that signifies me, and our bond, is annoying. Wow, you hate me."
"You called mine a shitty tattoo!"
He stopped chewing like a marmot, going back slowly as he registered your words.
"...Okay. And?"
"Whatever. But you should get it." At the very least, if he was going to be a thorn in your side forever, he was going to be a useful one, and solve this for you.
"Why would I?"
"Don't play coy with me! That's how soulmates work! Didn't anyone tell you anything!"
"No not really. I honestly figured I would die before I met you, so I never cared."
He said this normally, as if he had said it before. It was just more dinner talk to him, as he chewed senselessly on his salad.
"...what?"
"I just never thought it would matter. I didn't think we would even meet, and I never thought about what would happen next. I don't think it's that big of a deal, really."
The world turned silent to you, as you heard him say that.
I never cared. I don't think its that big of a deal.
Then what were you doing here?
-
You never got your answer for that mark.
Stupid Jouno had disappeared to East Europe for the last two weeks, and you haven't heard back from him. Maybe you didn't want to.
He never cared.
You had spent years, before even knowing him, caring about what he would be like. You cared when he got stabbed, and you cared even when he rejected you.
But he never cared at all.
Did he never think about you? Not when you had broken your wrist? He felt your pain, didn't he feel that?
When you went to work today, you thought about getting hit by a car and seeing if he would call. Just to know if you were okay.
But that was selfish. He was probably busy, and making someone else feel the pain of getting hit by a car was more than a dick move.
You also needed that money from your job. They paid your rent, not your soulmate. That would stay a fantasy, and a dead one; where you and Jouno could function like a normal couple, and live together and maybe even get married.
If he was just a normal man. Who didn't say stupid things and hurt your feelings that you hated you had.
It was ruining the makeup that you spent hours on this morning.
-
"Hey."
"...It's been two months, and that's all you have to say? Hey?"
You had been ready to receive the news that he had died while he was there. Or at least see it on TV. He was practically MIA with the other Hunting Dogs, and no one in the government knew what the hell was going on.
"Listen. It's been a rough two months. When I come back, I want to see you. First thing.
"The hell am I to you? A dog? Should I come back with the morning newspaper?"
"I didn't realize you came with perks." He sounded exhausted over the phone, but his laugh was still the same. It managed to annoy you as well, even after not hearing it for two months.
"Go fuck yourself!"
"...Are you mad at me?"
Yes. You honestly had been mad at him since you knew him, but that wasn't something you wanted to admit to yet.
"No. You just caught me at a bad time."
"Just be at my apartment, alright? And wear that short dress with the strings. Or nothing at all."
"Is this a bootycall?"
"I call you for more things than that."
What an asshole. Jouno was supposed to be a logical man, but he had no clue how to navigate a human relationship it seemed. It was as if he was stepping on seashells every time, and you had to watch them crumble underneath his stupid boots.
He is horrible at navigating anyone's emotions. He only seemed to be able to hurt them.
You tried to keep your voice calm, despite the fact you wanted to cry. Part of you was proud that only your eyes were wet, knowing that Jouno wouldn't know how much he bothered you with his stupidity.
"We aren't anything. This is something."
"...Can we be something? I miss you."
He was almost whimpering over the receiver, and you hoped that someone on the other end could record what he looked like. Because he must have looked funny, begging and pleading like a dog.
"I'm expecting flowers. Or chocolate."
"You like dark, right? You have horrible tastebuds."
"Says the idiot who drinks more milk than coffee." He really should just add an espresso shot to his glass of milk, it was disgusting how much he added and then claimed he loved caffeine.
"Okay. Whatever. Love you."
God, what the hell was wrong with Jouno?
-
"The mark on your back."
Jouno's hand trailed up your spine, his fingers dancing along the little lines that made up the mark, as if reading it like a page in a book.
It felt good.
"Yeah?"
"It's a map." His lips were right above your ear, and you could feel how his breath fanned across your face. This man had no sense of personal space around you.
"Okay. And of what?"
"It's a map of my childhood home. I haven't been there in years. I don't know why it's on your back."
His fingers went lower, to the little part that was raised more than the rest. It looked like a mole, although the skin around it gave the impression of a faded scar, from what you had been told.
"How do you know it's a map?"
"I memorize everywhere I've been."
"And you know just by feeling it?" His hand splayed out against your back, making you feel small. Jouno's hands were not as soft as voice, and you could feel the work he put in them as his callouses brushed against your skin.
"I've never felt it before. But I know. It's strange that it's on your body."
"Well, it means something. It's been there since forever."
Over a decade now. It had taunted you for over a decade.
"...I haven't been there in a long time."
The man plopped his body down next to you, drapping half of himself on top of you. He was heavy, and his face was nearly smushed against your own as he lay there, as if he were a weighted blanket and not a man.
"You know there's another half of the bed, right? You own a king-sized mattress."
And silk sheets, that smelt really good.
He could roll over and still have space to spread out. There was no reason for him to treat your space like it was his own.
"You smell good." To exaggerate, he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, smelling your neck and ear as if you were a living room candle.
You tried to push him away, laughing as he stuck his nose in the one ticklish spot along your neck, but it was hard to fight in the position you were in. Pulling against his hair and kicking against him was futile as he pulled you in closer, grabbing you two into a hold as he decided that your sweaty body was the best thing he had smelled since soap had been invented.
"Freak!" It was hard to stay serious as his arm danced along your sides, having you choke on the word as it sputtered out in laughter.
Jouno only laughed at your struggles. Because of course they were funny to a sadist like him.
-
"I um. I got you flowers."
Jouno looked funny when he tried to be anything other than a soldier or an asshole.
He dressed up - and not to beat a man to death, but because he was seeing you. On a date.
The first one since you had actually known each other. It was such a mundane thing, but it felt like you were seeing a wild animal playing dress up. His hair was done as nice as it usually was, and he was dressed in an outfit that you could picture him wearing to an event - he looked like he didn't have a criminal record.
The flowers added to it, bouncing from in front of him and between his side, as if he had never given a woman flowers in his life before.
His smile said otherwise, which couldn't help but make you laugh inside.
"For?"
"To apologize." He decided to push them into your hands, grabbing them around the stems and making sure you weren't going to drop them to the floor.
You would never do that. They smelled too nice.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"There's a lot of times I've made you cry. Usually, you apologize for that." His voice was low, as he fixed the bouquet he couldn't see. His hands were nervously looking for things to pick at, as if they had eyes of their own and could fix the world one little detail at a time.
His face stayed frozen in his stupid little smile.
"Well, it's not like I'm upset about it now."
"Can't you just accept some flowers?"
His hands decided to fix your hair, brushing down flyaways that didn't exist. If you stared only at his smile, you would think he was as calm as a still pond.
"...They're nice." They were your favorites. They matched what your childhood self had pictured for her stupid little wedding day. One you had given up on, but still wanted to believe in.
Maybe still did, in some way.
Jouno wasn't exactly what you pictured - he looked more like a fox than a handsome prince, and the way he smelled your head right now was more weird than romantic, but you were willing to take it.
He might have been your handsome prince.
"So is there a date planned? Or are we just standing in a park?"
"Why do you always question me?"
"You don't really know what you're doing."
Jouno was a brilliant man in a lot of things. But god he could not make up his mind when it came to you and what he wanted out of this.
Was this really that hard?
"You've seen me at work."
"Okay? Are we going to kill bank robbers or something? Is that our first date?"
The man most certainly had his gun on him, which confused you, because you knew that he hated using it more than any other weapon he owned. But yet you were sure that tucked away in his Chelsea boots was his little handgun, that he would pull out in a moment's notice.
Maybe he had one tucked away in his pants somewhere. He didn't seem to bring his sword, which is the only weapon he hadn't complained about to you yet.
"...It's the boring romance stuff. You like that."
"It's not boring-"
"I've seen your movies. It's boring."
He rolled his shoulders back, scanning the park as his earring danced against his neck.
"And what do you want to do?"
"I don't know. Never really thought about it." His hands started to dance along your jacket, pulling against the lapels as if there was lint that he could actually see.
"Maybe you actually like the boring stuff, and just don't know it."
You started to ignore him, instead deigning to walk ahead of him with the bouquet he gave you.
Were you going to carry this the entire time?
"A walk in the park? You think that's fun?" He only took two big steps to catch up to you, and you dared to kick at him. You didn't care if you were trying to trip a blind man - Jouno wasn't a regular blind man, and he would probably throw you both into the grass eventually after one of you said something stupid.
"It's fun when it's with people you love."
Taking the bouquet, you gently slapped him with it. The daisy-haired man snorted back.
This is close enough to what you wanted.
Hey guys ignore the fact that I originally uploaded this half unfinished yesterday! This is for my Valentine's day event, so go check that out lol. Also sorry that its. So long.
#if you see me reuploading this no you did not!#I'm trying something#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd#jouno x reader#jouno x you#jouno saigiku x reader#also this is so ooc im so sorry what am i on
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I love your writing style!
(also love how you always go for gn!reader!)
Silly request for another masked reader?
Masked reader who has those more solid material masks that can easily be cleaned has in the past painted their mask during one holiday just for the fun of it and they boys wanna do it too. Variation of it; masked reader got injured and has to stay bed bound for a while so their mask is being written and painted on like people do with casts :D
(there would be so many pictures)
PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE (also tysm anon!! It means a lot that you like my writing and writing decisions AHHHHH). I'm thinking a white-hockey mask sorta vibe that can look intimidating for missions, but also far too tempting for the 141 to wreak havoc on. Of course, they'll ensure you always have at least one spare blank mask so you can keep being the ominous badass on missions, but when a mission goes south and you escape with barely your life, they do what they can to make your bed-bound recovery as entertaining as possible.
Soap in particular truly treats your mask as a canvas. I already touched that Johnny has a journal of alternative designs for your mask and with a plain mask his mind is racing with so many ideas! He also has a general knack for drawing, in the quiet nights when he's done with training and can visit the med-bay he can spend hours just drawing on your mask with a thin sharpie (think like those highly intricate black-ink tattoos). His art is a little rough and scratchy but the artistry is there. He also provides his signature which lacks the tact of his art - if another member of the 141 hasn't he'll be the one stamping his name across your forehead with an obnoxious "SOAP WAS HERE!!".
Ghost is not an artist. There isn't a single artistic bone in this poor man, when he draws a circle it somehow looks like a square. Instead, Simon writes. A card is too sappy but your mask makes the perfect patch of parchment. His handwriting is legible but far from aesthetic, it's practical and hastily done with your head shaking slightly as he writes on it. Eventually he has to stabilise your head with his other hand, and his hold is surprisingly gentle. It's a general message wishing you get better soon, and a special military pun for everyone to read when they see your mask. He says that now your mask is a little more customised it almost looks half as good as his. While being unable to draw, he does accompany Johnny or Kyle if they pay a visit to vandalise your mask.
Price is straight forward. You want people to sign your mask? He'll sign your mask. John is surprisingly sentimental, he genuinely treats your mask as a get-well-soon card. He encourages you to rest - which is admittedly redundant since you can't get out of bed - but also to hurry up and get back on the field because he's losing his mind putting up with the rest of the 141. His handwriting is small because he has a lot to say, his message taking up the expanse of your cheek. He puts effort into his message and handwriting, it's going to be on your mask for everyone else to read and when he tries the captain has some exceptionally nice cursive. When he's done, he pulls away and lets out a satisfied huff at his message and how it looks on you... and then a consequential sigh when he looks at what of the rest of the task force has done to your poor mask.
Gaz does everything with your mask. He first covers the basics, signing his name and a quick, encouraging message for your health. Then Kyle goes ham on redesigning your mask and making it look as terrible as possible. Because it's a plain white mask, in particular he loves to use coloured sharpies on it. He'll shade panda-like eye bags where your eye sockets will be, or colour the area of your nose with a bright red circle like a clown. If you ever complain he'll just say this is the price you pay for getting injured and being sent to medbay. It's a joke but the underlying concern isn't missed from you. He's not the best artist but he'll leave a cute little doodle like a flower or that "S" sign that's used to graffiti everything known to man. He also enjoys giving you something to do (laying in med-bay all day must be terrible!), taking your hand in his to guide your hand across your face so you can draw a simple little star or love-heart on your own mask.
Surprisingly, it's Simon who initially asks for your permission to take photos of your mask. He says it's for the rest of the task force so they can have a reminder of what they're fighting for as they continue doing operations in your absence. John did add on that it was also simply for the memory as it's expected that you'll keep the mask once you've gotten better - unless you're willing to auction it off in which Kyle already called dibs.
It's only when you can freely move around do you take off your mask to realise that under your chin would be, generally obscured from view, one of them drew a shoddy little penis. You have half the mind of chasing up on who it was but it was simply too funny and you let it go. (Also because you already know deep down it was Soap)
Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist
#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod x you#task force 141 x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#anon mail ❤️#/*avery checks the mailbox*/#/*avery actually writes*/#/*cod x masked reader*/
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Demiurge - Fair & Just Seraphim SB Reader
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
I made the reader a seraphim (picture included; I imagined it as a mask or helmet.) instead of a regular angel since I believe that would be the highest evolution of an angel. Reader controls the justice system. I also used my new format for this one. I hope you like this, I did my best! —Benny🐰
💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎
💎 Out of all 41 of the Supreme Beings of the guild Ainz Oal Gown; only two had decided to stay in the Tomb of Nazarick. Those two being the guild master, Momonga, and the other being [UserName]. The other 39 Supreme Beings had abandoned the Tomb of Nazarick and it's denizens without looking back.
💎 While Momonga, now taking the name Ainz Oal Gown, was the now disbanded guild's Leader, a certain arch-devil couldn't help but turn his gaze away from the elder lich and towards the radiant [UserName].
💎 To say he respected them was an understatement; Demiurge was infatuated. Their beauty was ethereal yet unfathomable to the eyes of a being as lowly as himself. Due to their holy origins, merely being in their presence would slowly eat away at his, shaltear's and Albedo's life.
💎 But Demiurge, despite the possibility of death, just couldn't stay away. [UserName] was glowing pillar of judgement, passion and truth; enveloping the denizens of Nazarick in their never ending cheerful disposition. While Lord Ainz was leading Nazarick with an iron fist composed of fear and brutality; [UserName] was visiting the newly conquered territory, spreading order and elation.
💎 It was only natural that the humans, the worms, would favor them in the end. Even if, going by their standards, [UserName] was no better than Lord Ainz at times. [UserName] didn't make the justice system, they were the justice system; they made sure that every single individual was abiding by their law. If anyone, undead, beastman, elf, human etc. breaks a law the punishments are quite severe.
💎 Back to Demiurge, though. He waites on them hand and foot when they let him and if he can stay near them long enough without his health deteriorating to critical condition. He'll literally drop what he's doing and run across the entire tomb if he thinks they need him.
💎 Of course, [UserName] notices Demiurge's borderline obsession with them. But do they do anything about it? No! They embrace it with enthusiasm, sometimes even giving him special treatment since he's such a loyal little arch-devil. They view his infatuation as devotion and are very pleased with it... well... At least that's what Demiurge heard from Lord Ainz. [UserName] themselves hardly even give him a passing glance.
💎 Sometimes [UserName] will bring Demiurge into the courtroom and have him cart away a law breaking human or two to his happy farm. Always seeing him off with a "punish them well, Demiurge". It always gets him euphoric when they say his name, but that might just be they're natural aura pulling that reaction from him.
💎 Overall, it's mostly just Demiurge fantasizing about them and them strait up ignoring him most of the time.
"Yes, Your Radiance. I shall see to it that they're punished thoroughly enough to meet the standards of a being of your stature."
💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎
「A visual example of a biblically accurate Seraphim. Props to the artist who made this artwork (I can't read cursive), It's really nice.」
Seraphim; an angelical being, regarded in traditional Christian angelology as belonging to the highest order of the ninefold celestial hierarchy, associated with light, ardor, and purity.
Ardor; great enthusiasm and/or passion.
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
#male reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#overlord#demiurge overlord#overlord demiurge#demiurge#overlord x male reader#overlord x reader#overlord x gender neutral reader#overlord x gn reader#demiurge x gn reader#demiurge x gender neutral reader#demiurge x male reader#demiurge x reader#sb male reader#sb reader#supreme being reader#supreme being male reader#supreme being
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ST✩RBOY: random hxh hcs
Now playing- STARBOY by The weekend ft. Killua, Kurapika, Chrollo, Illumi Tw: dissociation
💿 Kurapika
The most perfect man there is to exist!!?!!
So I know Kurapika had to almost grow up by himself, so I think he can handle household chores very well.
I would like to think that he somehow discovers baking. I just know he would be good at it <3
I just know he has super pretty cursive handwriting -sighs dreamily-
If you hug him, I know he would be so hesitant, but would slowly nuzzle deeper. If you were close to him and finally hug him, he would literally try his best to hold back tears (Please tell him, it's okay to cry!)
He smells so good omfg. I can't decide between Vanilla or some earthy smell, either way, it's so comforting yet at the same time it's like *eyes roll to the back of head*
You can read this for more scent hcs: Serenade my Senses
Call him pretty boy and he would be so shocked the first time, but as he gets used to it, he gives coy smile <33
I like the think it takes him a long time to get comfortable, but when he does it's so soft that it feels like breathing air. He is so touch-starved tho, so I can imagine him getting clingy after a while. (same bro same)
He is the knuckle and neck kisses type of dude *cue the flusters*
He hates Andrew Tate and his fans like he would go spit on them if could, this guy has the most healthy masculinity in all of anime and I love him for that.
Doesn't really understand the concept of memes tbh, he needs some explaining but he will laugh a little when you send them, he will once in a blue moon send memes but only the cat ones.
(realises how much I wrote for him while about to write more. This man has me on a chokehold frfr)
💿 Killua
He has trans-supporting t-shirts for him and Alluka. They are all matching.
Takes Alluka to pride parades! He has them sat on his shoulder the entire time too!!
Cant comfort a person even if his life depends on it. If you are crying he is just there like 🧍, awkwardly offering you some chocolate robots tho.
He just can't sit without moving every second! Literally a cat 😒
Older! Killua around 16-17 is a massive flirt! He is so quick to pull out reactions from anyone and takes a sick pleasure in it too??
Calls himself 'The Rizz lord' unironically.
His top Spotify artists would be Chase Atlantic, Mother-mother, The Scotts, Nirvana, Mitski and the Arctic Monkeys. Basically really an alt-rock/indie thing going on (us bro.)
💿 Chrollo
Mansplain, Manslaughter, Manwhore, Manipulate, Malewife ™️
Reads macabre literature like Crime and Punishment, No longer human, if we were villains, the secret history etc.
Tbh I feel like unlike how the fandom portrays him, he is a rather normal dude.
Gothic Academia ultra pro max.
Did the Soldier/Poet/King test, wanted 'king' but got 'poet'
Doesn't have pets because he thinks he can not take care of them
He loves animals tho, idk he seems the birds type of guy.
He likes the 'ominous' kind of birds more; like Ravens, Crows, Vultures and eagles.
Listens to Lana Del Ray and Maneskin, no questions asked.
Is scared of diving into conspiracy theories because he knows he would get sucked into the black hole because he is very interested in morbid things.
He is a DC fan, especially Gothan chronicles. (is that what it's called? Yk the things related to Gotham: joker, poison ivy, harlequin etc.)
Tried journalling once, failed terribly, and stopped after a week.
💿 Illumi
Oh wow, he is a difficult one to write about, but you guys love him, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I hate to say this, but I think he frequently dissociates, usually for very short periods of time, he doesn't even know it tbh, just thinks he is out of the element.
He is subconsciously under a lot of stress so his mind tries to flee from it by dissociating.
I wrote a little more about this here: Stuck in a vicious cycle
I think he likes potted plants, especially succulents. He is patient so I can see him take care of even the very difficult ones.
If he is going on a mission, he would go to his mother (because he cannot trust his siblings and father in this matter) like 'take care of my child.'
She actually manages to keep it alive somehow??
I think he knows how to do origami (he saw a child making a paper crane once and got curious.)
Illumi genuinely doesn't know how to care for his hair, he just follows whatever his mom tells him to do, so thank Kikuyo for those luscious tresses.
He has a hyper-fixation on mushrooms (not the psychedelic kind you weirdo). He knows the names of a lot of mushrooms.
Just imagine him and Hisoka taking walk and he randomly spots a mushroom and mumbles to himself 'Coprinus comatus'
and Hisoka is like:
(yes it's a bad meme, but it's the effort that counts)
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⤷‧₊˚ Hunter x Hunter (ハンタ x ハンタ)
🥀 BYI/DNI ♡⌇ Request Rules 𓏸 🗝️ ₊﹒《 Join my Taglist •
#hxh fanfic#hxh 2011#hisoka hxh#hxh manga#hxh#hxh smut#hxh 1999#kurapika#killua#hunter x hunter#kurapika hcs#hxh kurapika#kurapika kurta#kurapika x you#kurapika x y/n#kurapika x reader#illumi hxh#illumi x y/n#illumi zoldyck#illumi x you#yandere chrollo#hxh chrollo#chrollo x y/n#chrollo x reader#chrollo headcanons#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo imagine#chrollo oneshot#phantom troupe#killua hxh
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Si, la luna esta muy bonita y brillante~
*They laugh at the ninja comment, but Leo can see how happy the compliment made them.*
Thanks Lee-! Oh, just up here-
*They round a corner to the abandoned building, flashing a grin when the painting comes in sight*
Tadaaa~!
Yooo, Em! 💛
*falls through a portal next to you on your couch*
Here are the promised cookies from Mikey!
*holds out a round box to you*
Heyyy! Leo!!
*She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.*
Those smell amazing 💕
Can you tell Mikey thank you the next time you see him?
Also are you okay? You kind of crash-landed into the couch—
*she says with a laugh.*
#the oopsie arc part 14#neon leons messy mind palace#emerson talks too much#turtle net lore#insomnia buddies#rottmnt#turtle net#rottmnt turtle net lore#not my art#credits to the original graffiti artist#for those who can't read it the cursive says tadaaa
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Heathers Headcanons that Live Rent-Free in my Brain
(Some of these are new, some have been rotting in my notes app since January lol also LONGPOST WARNING up ahead.)
Veronica:
Was also a wolf kid (iykyk), wore those dog ear headbands to school from the middle of 3rd to the beginning of 5th grade
Has a pet corn snake named Cornelius. She's had him since she was 12 and loves him dearly
Can't even be trusted with a toaster in the kitchen, can and will find a way to set something on fire
Her favorite movie series is Indiana Jones. She loves the thril of the action scenes and the concept of carefree adventuring
Fucking unstoppable at just dance. She wins by a landslide every time
Had one of those giant picture encyclopedias as a kid
Despite spending so much time journaling and studying people's handwriting, hers is still a mesy disaster (this annoys Chandler to no end)
Likes to doodle in her journal too
has been journaling almost every day since she was 8. She keeps all of her old finished journals in a locked box under her bed
Loves making friendship bracelets for everybody she appreciates
Was absolutely a band kid. She played trumpet but quit sophomore year because she couldn’t stand Kurt and Ram anymore (they were just there to get some elective credits in)
Heather Chandler:
Hates everyone except her favorite three people (Duke, Mac, and Ronnie) And sometimes even them
Gets fucking livid when people touch her stuff without asking (this includes Veronica)
Especially if you touch her hair/skincare stuff (which is one of those 989,752,300 step process ones)
If she doesn’t get her beauty sleep, she’s even more of a megabitch than usual
Super protective of her friends and loyal to a fault. Once you're in her inner circle, there's no escape
Speaks french fluently
Most of the time she spends with her parents is on the whole-summer trips to France they drag her on. She despises these with a burning passion
Learned how to paint in France, and she's gotten pretty good at it over the years
Has gorgeous, looping cursive handwriting and insists on writing everything in red ballpoint pen. (Her teachers hate this)
Almost always has really vivid lucid dreams. She writes them down in a dream log and they’re her main artistic inspiration
Secretly loves Romance novels. Will read them and giggle like an excited 12-year-old when she's alone
Heather McNamara:
Was super clumsy before she started cheer. It’s definitely not as bad as before, but it’s still there. She’ll still trip over her own feet sometimes
Lactose intolerant, but her favorite drink is milk
Loves to click her pens in class
Goes through chewing gum at frightening speeds (think a pack or more a day)
Is really close to her dad
Whenever her dad goes on a business trip, he brings her a new hair ribbon. She keeps them all in a drawer in her nightstand.
Was the biggest horse girl as a kid
Will still happily talk about horses for hours
Loves astrology even more. Her dad cuts out the horoscope section of the daily paper for her and she keeps them filed away by date and season
Loves to read her friends their horoscopes
Definitely has a million constellation/planet charts all over her walls
If it doesn't have mustard on it, she won't eat it
Carries around a bottle of spicy mustard for this exact reason
Heather Duke:
Literally like 5'0 (152.5 cm)
Will not be caught dead without her heels on
Has two younger siblings, Hunter (12) and Hannah (also 12, they’re twins)
Has a black cat named Gatsby
Gatsby loves to curl up on her neck when she reads, and she’ll absentmindedly scratch behind his ears
Her parents forced her to play the piano from like 1st grade onwards. She has the skills of a concert pianist but hates the instrument with a burning passion
Her car is a 1980 Jeep CJ5
Secretly really likes cars. Will talk to McNamara about cars while McNamara reads her horoscope
Loves to fix her friends' cars
DESPISES condiments. She believes that if you can't eat it plain, it's not worth eating. (the exception to this is hotsauce lol)
Has a bunch of cute stationary and study materials (y'know, all the glittery gel pens and color-coded sticky notes) but uses them for the dumbest things
JD:
5’10 and still growing
Was really into dinosaurs when he was younger. He still has a collection of little plastic ones in his room that he sometimes (though he’d never admit it) gets out and plays with
Cooking shows are his guilty pleasure. He fucking loves being in the kitchen, it’s almost as safe to him as a 7/11
He cooks as a form of self-expression
Loves to bake too, will make things for his friends
Tried to make Chandler an apology cake one time (which did NOT end well for either of them)
One of his most prized possessions is the blue and black friendship bracelet Veronica made for him when they met. He wears the damn thing everywhere and it’s getting beat up
Loves to take walks alone in the dark or the rain. He thinks it’s nice and peaceful
Constantly losing pens. Was it the trenchcoat's fault? Probably. Will he get out of the trenchcoat? Absolutely not.
Hope you found some you enjoy lol, PLEASE feel free to add on/tell me your own/send requests for more!
#scrunchie's ramblings#heathers#heathers headcanons#heathers 1988#heathers the musical#veronica sawyer#heather chandler#heather duke#heather mcnamara#jason dean
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Can you bring back famous renaissance artist Michelangelo, the greatest artist ever please?
I don't know how I can bring him back. . . Unless I have magic on my side!
I found this book, but it's a little scary. Also I can't read cursive yet
#Chibitalia is a baby#He can draw but he can't read well#hetalia#rp ask blog#aph italy#hetalia ask blog#hetalia axis powers#aph chibitalia#hetalia roleplay
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag
Thanks for the tag @natolesims!!!
1. What uncommon/common fear do they have?
he has extreme anxiety and hates what people might think of him
2. Do they have any pet peeves?
chronic lateness. he hates waiting around for someone.
3. What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
"intellectual" books (is what his sisters call them), old figurines, composition books filled with thoughts
4. What do they notice first in a person?
Their voice, he's usually too nervous to look at people straight in the eyes.
5. On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?
Maybe a 5. He's no stranger to gym soreness, so he's used to pain here and there.
6. Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?
Flight! In fact, he'll make a run for it even before pressure starts. Can't be stressed about a situation if you leave it before it gets stressful!
7. Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
He has a mid-size family; two siblings, some aunts and uncles here and there. He loves his family and considers them his only friends. He's happy with that fact! They're the coolest people he knows--Mom is a lawyer, Dad builds furniture from scratch, sisters are artistic, his aunt is a musician/artist, and his uncles..uh they're kinda freeloaders in the city. Every kid's dream future 😎
8. What animal represents them best?
Hmmm that's a tough one. I'd love to say a grasshopper (haha) but let's go with a cheetah. Yeah I know you're thinking cool and collected, but cheetahs are actually SUPER anxious, expend a lot of energy with a task, and prefer to be alone. Also, he can run hella fast.
9. What is a smell that they dislike?
Burnt pancakes. Yuck.
10. Have they broken any bones?
No, he's pretty cautious. He's definitely gotten cuts and bruises galore though.
11. How would a stranger likely describe them?
Quiet (almost invisible) and soft-spoken. Just a kid that sits in the back of the class. He comes to school, then leaves. People would likely forget he was there.
12. Are they a night owl or a morning bird?
100% a morning bird. His parents are up at the crack of dawn and he's made it habit to get up early.
13. What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?
hate - artificial banana
love - matcha. mmmmm bitter.
14. Do they have any hobbies?
He's been told to write things down in notebooks (therapy) but he doesn't necessarily enjoy it--it's just something he does to regulate his emotions. He likes to watch bad movies, read old poetry, and hit the gym.
15. Boom, surprise birthday party!How do they react to surprises?
He hates surprises. If it's just his family, he won't be too upset. He'll put on a happy face and participate in any party things. If there's randos invited, he'll force himself to stay but he'll eventually wander back to his room. His parents have learned to not throw him parties.
16. Do they like to wear jewelry?
Somewhat. His sister is always trying to get him to pierce his face, but he sticks to his grandmother's necklace. He's thought about wearing rings, but he doesn't feel like he fits that vibe.
17. Do they have neat or messy handwriting?
Pretty neat for a teenage boy. Not the best but you could make it out. He tried to learn cursive to copy the script he sees in old poetry books, but got frustrated.
18. What are two emotions they feel the most?
Anxious & Embarrassed.
19. Do they have a favorite fabric?
Flannel. It's comfortable.
20. What kind of accent do they have?
If we were comparing him to everyone else...a normal American accent. Maybe one with a low inflection/tone. tbh only Theo has an accent in my game lmao
I'd love to see an OC deep dive from @payte, @potential-fate, @mosneakers, @sparkiekong, @ashubii, & @nitrozem ✨
#challenge#oc#can you tell im trying to introduce gen 6 lol#hear ye hear ye! new gen heir is here!#grasshopper
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Befallen: Chapter 3
Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: none, really.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for your patience with me. I'm so happy to finally getting this out after having to completely rewrite this chapter from scratch. Bear with me as I try to get these chapters out as soon as I can. Thank you!
Masterlist
Aesthete: a person who has or affects to have a special appreciation of art and beauty.
I tap my pen against the wooden desk as I focus on the sheets in front of me. The words written on the page are a little sloppy, their connotation that of a newcomer to lyricism. But, the meaning in them shows through no matter the novice technique in which their written. I cross out a line and rewrite the words, not changing the meaning behind them but allowing the line to blend harmoniously with the rest of the verse.
Jimin stopped by the studio first thing before practice, the notebook sitting on the floor from where he slid it under the door before rushing to meet the other members. I smiled when I saw it. I should've known better than to expect anything other than the fact that he would stay up writing. After our conversation yesterday, he seemed too inspired to do anything but that.
I will admit, although the wording isn't as eloquent as an experienced lyricist, Jimin's handwriting is that of a scholar. Next to his, my hangul looks like chicken scratch, something a kindergartner would write. Then again, I am newer to writing in the language, still stumbling when I even speak it. But, I have improved drastically in the half year past. His writing is more like the Korean version of cursive, his hands used to the language from years of experience as his letters blend together beautifully. While I am mainly writing the English version, as it's my first language, he decided that he wanted to take the lead with the Korean version. When he proposed the idea, I visibly sighed in relief. Usually when writing for the other artists in the company, some of the other producers tend to take the lead on the lyrics since I am a novice when it comes to the Korean language, but versed enough to help Jimin with editing his.
My heart breaks a little at the words on the page. His fear of losing those close to him shows through as I read them. His sad, almost desperate, connotation bleed through the pages even through his crossed lines as he rewrote the lyrics over and over. I can't wait to show him what I've done with it, the song already playing through my head in a constant loop. I can already imagine how great it will sound with his soft and breathy vocals.
A knock on the door brings my out of my little bubble. I turn toward the entrance of my studio, curious to see who could be here. Jimin's practice isn't set to be finished for another hour or so.
But, nevertheless, it is still him that stands in the doorway.
"What are you doing here so early?" I ask, curious as to how he is here at the moment. He's never been known to cut practice of any kind, if anything he stays later working past when everyone else leaves.
"Let's just say.... there was some tension. So, Joon-hyung decided to end it early today." He says with a slight smirk on his face. I don't know how, but for some reason I feel as if I'm the reason for the so-called tension that he speaks of.
"Do I even want to know?" I cross my arms and lean back in my chair as I question him.
"Probably not." He shrugs his shoulders and walks further into the room, coming to stand beside me and look at the notebook sitting on the desk behind me.
"Alright then, I'm not even gonna ask." I swivel my chair around to face the desk once again, watching Jimin's face as he reads the words on the page, examining my rewrites with the utmost focus and attention.
"Wow... I thought my lyrics were good. But.... damn." He turns his head to meet my eyes. "You've really got some talent, Y/N."
My cheeks flush at the compliment, not used to being recognized for it. I avoid his eyes as I look back toward the notebook.
"It's nothing, I just reported it a little bit to better match the rhythm of the song. This way, the meter of the stanza will match the beat a lot better. But, Jimin, you did amazing. What you wrote here... just..." I look at the man standing beside me. "Wow."
He flushes at my words, his hand coming to rub the nape of his neck as he straightens his spine. "I just felt kind of inspired, I guess."
He smiles shyly at me as I grin at him. I fake punch him lightly in the shoulder, lightening the mood. "Hey, give yourself some credit. You did good. Own it."
He laughs lightly, loosening up a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."
"No, say it!" I persist. "Say 'I did an awesome job at writing these lyrics and I am oh so very talented'."
He scrunches his face in a mic of amusement and awkwardness as he tries to laugh off my words.
"Whatever. So can we go to the recording booth? Try this out?" He asks, waving me off.
I let it go, deciding that I've proven my point enough to not push it any further. "Yeah, let me just put the track on the flash drive real quick and we can head over."
While working on his lyrics, I was able to finish the backing track. His words inspired me and helped me find the finishing touches I really needed. All that's left is to finish writing the lyrics, record it, and mix it all together.
I click my mouse as I drag the file over to the drive, preparing to transport it to the recording booth that a lot of the other producers and I share. Although I have my own studio and microphone for recording backing vocals, for the artists we like to have the best recording set up. I pull the drive from my computer and grab the notebook, standing from my chair as I turn toward Jimin.
"You ready?" I ask, knowing that his nerves are high at the moment, the anxiety of recording the raw emotion in which these lyrics are written showing on his face.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
I wrap my arm around his as we march out of my studio and down the hall.
"Watch me go, soak me all night long, away... So the morning gets drunk and never comes."
Jimin's soft vocals ring throughout the studio as I stare at him in awe. Seeing the words on paper is nothing compared to hearing them in such a mellifluous way. He peels off the headset and places it around his neck, a smile shining on his face as his eyes sparkle.
"How was that?" He asks me through the microphone. I press the button on the desk so he can hear my response in the speakers throughout the inside of the recording booth.
"Jiminie, that was amazing! First take, wow. Let's keep going and finish up the rest of the pre-chorus and then we'll take a break." My cheeks hurt from how big I've been smiling for the past hour. After doing some minor rewrites after we arrived and settling on exactly how we wanted to vocal lines to sound, we finally started recording. I rewind the track a few seconds, Jimin's previously recorded vocals playing through as he secures his headset back on and closes his eyes in concentration.
"I fade away in the loud music, I'm getting used to the cliché story like a drama. I'm getting used to it. Have I come too far to find the me you used to know? Yeah I know, you know, I know..."
Jimin never ceases to amaze me. Although he has a beautiful deep chest voice, he prefers to sing in the higher tones. That fact fits beautifully with this song. But, maybe one day I can convince him to showcase more of his lower vocals. The proud smile I wear never leaves as he looks at me with excitement, his eyes forming crescents so slivered I wonder how he even sees what's in front of him.
He sets his headset on the small table next to the microphone, his half empty water bottle sitting next to it. I look back toward the screen to start the playback of what all we've recorded thus far as I hear the door to the recording booth open and shut softly, near-silent but quick footsteps near me as Jimin rushes to see the screen.
We haven't yet added the whispers in the beginning, so the track still feels a little empty as it starts. But as soon as the vocals come in, it feels complete. A weight lifts off my shoulders at the sound, a relieved sigh leaving me as my chest feels light. I close my eyes as I smile, letting out a breathy laugh.
"She's saying 'Baby, don't think about it. There's not a bad thing here tonight. Baby, it's fine if you have to leave, but stay with me just for today.'"
We listen for the next minute or so and I pause it right before the chorus comes in.
"Oh my God! Jimin!" I jump up and throw my arms dramatically around him, causing him to almost loose balance and brace a hand against the desk to keep standing. He laughs as he regains his balance and wraps his arms around my waist. We stay like that for a little while, rocking slightly back in forth as we bask in the feeling of accomplishment.
I lean slightly and place my hands on his reddened cheeks, forcing him to make eye contact with me.
"I'm so proud of you! That sounds amazing!" Jimin looks down bashfully at my words, but the smile grows on his face, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.
"Thanks... You did most of the work, though."
I smile fondly at my best friend.
"Jimin, don't discredit yourself. I just helped you bring your vision to life, and you're doing the same for me." He looks back up and meets my eyes once again. "I'm so glad that I shared this with you. This is coming out better than I could've imagined."
We stay like that for a few moments more before a knock breaks the moment. We look at the doorway simultaneously.
"Am I interrupting something?" The silky smooth voice carries throughout the room, his words making my cheeks flush. His strong brows are pushed together into an expression I can't really put my finger on. Confusion, disgust, anger... jealousy? No, it can't be.
Nonetheless, Jimin lets go of his hold on me at the presence of his bandmate, taking a step back to put some space between us.
"We just finished up recording a good chunk of the song." Jimin explains. "I'm actually really proud of it."
Jungkook's face softens as his brows shoot up, disappearing under the black bucket hat on his head, the rings on the brim clinking together as he tilts his head and leans against the doorway.
"Really? I didn't even know you were working on something new." His eyes dart over to me momentarily before moving back to Jimin. "What is it?"
I clear my throat before I speak up for him. "That song that I was working on when you came into my studio yesterday. I showed it to Jimin and he marked his claim on it the second it started playing." I laugh lightly as I avert my eyes over to my best friend, pride shining all throughout my features. "He wrote lyrics for it overnight, and we've been putting it together since your practice ended."
Jungkook smiles wide as he walks over to Jimin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's amazing, hyung! I can't wait to hear it."
"Thanks, Kook. I can't wait either." His eye crescents come back as he smiles mischievously. "But, you gotta wait until it's done. No spoilers!"
The bunny man pouts at his elder. "That's mean. But, fine. I was coming in here to record some stuff I'm working on, but I'll wait until you guys finish up. I didn't know that anyone was in here today." He pulls out a flashdrive from his pocket, holding it up to prove his intentions.
"That's fine. We were just finishing up anyway. I just gotta make sure everything saves over then we can get out of your hair." I turn back toward the computer, leaning over the desk to move everything back over to my portable drive. A few seconds later and I unplug it, turning back toward the two men.
They seem to be having a secret conversation, whispering over in the corner of the room, too quiet for me to hear. Jungkook makes eye contact with me and I crease my brows in confusion. His eyes widen and he clears his throat, cutting off whatever Jimin was saying.
"Where are you guys off to?" He asks, turning his gaze back toward Jimin.
"The dance studio. Wanna blow off some steam before we go and get ready for recording later."
Jimin walks back over to me, placing his elbow on my shoulder and showcasing the slight height difference. Honestly, this man is just so proud that he's 3 inches taller than me and uses every opportunity to show it off. Then again, being surrounded by giants all day probably doesn't help his height complex.
"Oh, you dance?" Jungkook directs the question back at me.
"Yeah... I used to study contemporary back in the States. Sometimes it nice to just... let go. You know?" I shuffle uncomfortably at the admission. He seems perplexed as he takes in the information, seemingly hooked on every new detail he can learn about me.
"Anyway," I silently thank Jimin for breaking the tension "we are heading out. Good luck on whatever you're working on, Kookie!"
He all but pushes me out of the room, hands pressing against my shoulders in a rush to leave to recording studio. As we exit the room, I glance back over my shoulder, only to find a doe eyed Jungkook staring. We make eye contact one final time before we turn to go down the corridor, a red flush creeping on his cheeks.
Jimin moves so that he's no longer pushing, but walking alongside me. I glance over at him only to see him wearing a knowing smile as he glances back. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything.
As we turn into the next hallway, I hear the soft sound of a symphony staring to ring from the room we just left. And for once, I let myself smile about the boy with the bunny teeth responsible for it.
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Prompts and Guidelines
September 7: First Date
September 8: College/Roommates
September 9: Exes/Breakup
September 10: Cowboy
September 11: Soulmates
September 12: Artist/Musician
September 13: Free Day
Guidelines:
Kam Week will take place from September 7th to September 13th! If you need extra time, submissions will be accepted up to months after the week ends, so long as it was intended for this week!
Tag @kamweek2023, @when-wax-wings-melt, and @did-i-say-you-could-get-up (aka @/honey-the-dinosaur-ate-our kid) and also tag your post with #kamweek2023
These creations can include any medium, including art, writing, moodboards, playlists, aesthetics, animatics, gifsets, edits, anything else you can imagine! We can't wait to see the creativity and excitement all the participants will pour into this week!
Feel free to post the prompts out of order as well! Whatever works best for you!
Send in asks if you have questions, clarifications, or just need to share your process!
[id: a series of images with tan backgrounds with black smoky wisps, with words in cursive reading "Kam Week Prompts:" the transcripts are listed in plain text below the cut /end id]
In plain text below the cut:
Kam Week Prompts:
1. First Date
This is a good day for beginnings. Perhaps they're asking each other out instead of actually being on the date. A blind date set up by friends, dating apps. Matchmaking, or meet-cute, or childhood rivals finally trying something new. Restaurants, movies, walks on the beach, arcade something unconventional; this can be sweet or end in disaster!
2. College/Roommates
Whether they've known each other for a long time or just met, whether they're grudging friends or full-on enemies, this is a fabulous pining day! Platonic besties/haters, only one bed, staring at each other in classes-- moodboard the hell out of their shared room and see the difference between their aesthetics! Make them clash in uncomfortable ways and then find the parts that make them work!
3. Exes/Breakup
This is a day for jagged edges and cracked picture frames. A big, explosive fight or a quiet day that ends with what they've seen coming for months, years spent apart, pressure from family, something needed or something wrong. right person wrong time, wrong person wrong everything. Make it dramatic, make it broken, make it red, make it the end or the beginning. This is also a day for second chances.
4. Cowboy
This is a day for fun! Plop them into a Wild West movie as actors, or onto a horse and into your father's barn because somehow you know it ain't the ale he's got a hankering for. They're kids playing pretend and then they grow up and it's not pretend anymore. They're taxed physically and mentally, they're water in each other's desert, this is the worst possible person to be stuck with in the dry heat and dust.
5. Soulmates
There are SO many possibilities for this one. Look up prompts and check them out! Sharing pain, feeling when the other lies, sensory deprivation (colorblind, no music, etc) until they meet, numbers count down until they meet, red/blue string, sharing skies or handwriting, tattoos, matching superpowers, drawings will show up on skin, and so much more! Remember, this doesn't have to be strictly romantic-- mix things up!
6. Artist/Musician
Also included in this prompt is "poet". Keefe is a painter, always having ink or paint splattered on his clothes and hands, colors smeared on his cheek and caught under his fingernails. Tam is a musician and a poet, scribbling lyrics that he will sing with his guitar, or flute, or whatever. They're in a band together, or one is a famous singer that the other styles or writes for, Keefe finds Tam's poetry journal, one teaches piano to the other, anything!
7. Free Day
This is a wonderful day to incorporate your culture and see how that breaks the norms! Make them mermaids and pirates, childhood friends or royalty or vampires. Use nonverbal/sensory overload, death and resurrection, gods or superheroes, mythology or old age, enemies or villains, anything you want.
#kam week 2023#kam week#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#keefe sencen#tam song#songcen#shadowheart#kotlc theme weeks#feel free to send asks if the id isnt good enough btw
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my grandma passed away a week ago, and it's really really messed me up, but if there is any silver lining to be found in this, it's getting to learn more about her from other people.
she was an amazing woman, more than i even knew, so here is a list of some really cool things she did, some i already knew about, and some that i have just learned about this week:
mom to 4 kids, mostly parented on her own
gave birth to her 4th kid completely alone. she was in a hospital, but it seemed like she had a while before she went into labor, so she was just. left alone. next time a nurse came in, she had fully given birth
was trained as an EMT first responder
went to college in the 50s, and worked summers as an interior designer at the most high scale store in her city
worked at multiple small dress shops, and was so good at it that the owners would often just leave her in charge and go on vacation
worked a few winters as an avalanche look out(??) at a nearby ski resort
won a pure breed dog in a radio raffle contest that was sponsored by the local electricity company??? then named the dog after said company
was apparently an amazing artist. neither my mom or i knew this, because she would never show anyone her art.
was an amazing knitter and crocheter
was left handed, but learned how to crochet right handed because my mom wanted to learn and she's right handed
could write mirrored cursive, wrote my mom a whole letter that way once. you have to hold it up to a mirror to read it
was the only person who could consistently beat me in board games, especially the game Sorry
loved loved loved nature. was constantly reading national geographic and anything she could get in the mail about scientific nature news
loved reading. would tear through books, sometimes like 4 or 5 a week
i'm sure there's more i'm forgetting. she was very very special to me. this is the first time i've lost someone close to me, and it's a very hard experience... it's weird. just getting used to the idea that she's not a phone call away, that i can't go see her. she was my only grandparent, but goddamn she was a good one. her loss will be something i'll feel for the rest of my life, i think.
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From the journals of Valerie Yndera, Soul Hunter:
(in jagged strokes, as though the writer is barely controlling a great rage)
No. There is no excuse and no forgiveness. Ysayle was a hero at the end, he was the monster that killed a drained opponent who couldn't fight back. He doesn't deserve that honor.
(in neater but still very straightforward script, giving the impression of someone that is used to writing writing quick missives that very much needed to be legible)
In the end, she wished to die in battle. He at least gave her that, and his sacrifice at the end of his life does help. I regret that she died, but he can't be blamed completely. And he helped save the world.
(In very neat cursive-style writing)
He still made excuses, even while saying he would make none. He brought the full destructive power of the ship against a foe that was no longer any kind of threat. It would have been quite easy and potentially more useful to take her alive, but he ordered the firing of all guns out of spite.
(In flowing calligraphy, much more artistic than the previous cursive)
She has returned to the Flow, and the only way to find peace is to let some past crimes go. It was war and he acted as a soldier. We shouldn't trust them all yet, but we had to start somewhere, and had common cause. As he said, he and his troops have suffered along with us. When will we stop?
(letters appear to have been typed)
Perhaps. But I would say that he didn't die a hero, he died heroically. The pain he caused to so many people, including our friend, was too much to just be ignored.
(many of the letters are now somewhat like small constellations)
For us to move forward into the future we must forgive, though it hurts, though it is not "right". It is the only way to peace. But we should not forget, and should remain watchful.
(notes scribbled in the gutters)
These events caused a great deal of pain in my selves, even the ones that voted to side with Regula. So we decided to take a moment to write down some of our thoughts in turn. Finally, we concluded that it was right to ally with him, but it didn't make what he had done forgivable. It may be just as well that he died, some of my fragments would have tried to hunt him down otherwise.
(painted in multiple colors with a fine brush)
I've been trying to catch up by reading our journals, but can anyone explain who these people were?
(if an answer was given, it was not in this journal)
#ffxiv#The Warring Triad#Regulus van Hydrus#ysayle dangoulain#valerie yndera (OC)#suicide reference tw
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HIII SO i made the Album and Track names for Ellie, RHM and Totally Quality Content! Take your time to read and I hope u enjoy :D
Ellie
Album 1: Dried Up Petals
While this album was short (in terms of tracks), it was widely popular. It was praised for Rose's vocals and personality.
1. Don't Call Me Yours! (single)
2. Deep Red Lipstick (single)
3. Metallic Purple
4. Late Night Sky
5. Ruined
6. Pretty? (Single)
7. I'm In Too Deep
Album 2 : A Shiny Disaster
Ellie Rose's second album was a big hit. It explored the themes of Dried Up Petals in a more deep and compelling way while exploring new ones. The main appeal of A Shiny Disaster is the intense fun and heartache is has.
1. Red Velvet Cake
2. Made Out Of Shiny Plastic
3. Didn't Say Anything (single)
4.Glittery Eyeshadow
5. Truth Or Dare?
6. The Epitome Of Fame (single)
7. Rulebook
8. A Shiny Disaster (single)
9. Charred Boquet Of Flowers
10. Could You?
11. Star-Studded Downfall (bonus track)
Album 3 : Crystal Like Heart
Crystal Like Heart was eclectic. Unlike Rose's two previous album, her third studion album had a different yet similar vibe. Many of the songs leaned into many directions thematically and sonically but still had a feel that made it cohesive.
1. That's Really Harsh
2. Famed Beauty (single)
3. Pixelated
4. Red, Green and Blue
5. Cherry Red Paint
6. Cursive (single)
7. Pink Hearts Around My Name
8. Bubblegum Flavor
9. That's Why I Love You
10. Crystal Like Heart (single)
11. You See More
12. First In Line
13. Dark Blue
Right Hand Man
album 1: Sunset Glow
This album was Right Hand Man's introduction. It's been critically acclaimed for being charming and meaningful.
1. Burning Sensation
2. Rough Times (single)
3. Sunglasses (single)
4. Frozen Soul
5. Grounded
6. Stolen
7. Do Not
8. Flaming Memory
9. Ablaze
10. The Last Thing You Said (single)
11. Last Ditch Effort (bonus track)
Album 2: Let it Fall
Right Hand Man's second album. RHM brought in a new writer (now his husband), Reginald Copperbottom to work on the songs (even being the sole writer of some of the tracks). The general consensus is that the emotions in this album were more real and Copperbottom's lyricism is very expressive.
1. Let's Start Over
2. Through An Artist's Eyes (single)
3. Words
4. We're Something (single)
5. They Call Him Heartless
6. You Know
7. Let It Fall
8. But I Didn't
9. Deadly Lie
10. I Want Nothing At All (single)
11. Intensely Vivid
12. Shatter My Heart
13. Too Much For A Guy
14. Cold (bonus track)
Totally Quality Content
EP 1: A Rollercoaster That Never Ends
The band's first output. They had started out in college and produced their own EP. They eventually signed a record deal and some of the songs on their EP made their way to their first studio album. The EP showed great promise, with a lively yet angsty premise.
1. Peaked In High School
2. The Tale Of A Blond Prince
3. I Wore Your Jacket To Science Class
4. Sure As Hell (That I Know)
5. Tragic End To Our Fable
Album 1: Empty Jar Feeling
TQC's first studio album. Much of their sound and energy was derived from A Rollercoaster That Never Ends but with better production and more storyline focused songs. It was praised for telling relatable stories.
1. The Guitar In The Corner
2. Smile Along (single)
3. I Still Have Your Playlist Saved
4. Broken Prodigy (single)
5. The Last One Standing
6. Courtesy Of The Host
7. The Message You Posted On The Freedom Wall
8. Sure As Hell (That I Know)
9. The Tale Of A Blond Prince (single)
10. Watched From The Wings
11. Blue Pen (bonus track)
12. Headphones And A Jacket (bonus track)
EP 2 : The Performers Bow
TQC's second EP. They are currently working on their second studio album and it is speculated that some of the songs in this EP will appear in the album (like what was done for Empty Jar Feeling.)
1. Whiteboard Scribbles
2. Can't See To See Us
3. The Ballad Of A Unsung Hero
4. Well Why Won't You?
#the henry stickmin collection#henry stickmin#thsc#a cup of coffee and rock au#ellie rose#right hand man#reginald copperbottom#sven svensson#burt curtis#my faves are “Star Studded Downfall” “Through An Artist's Eyes” and “The Tale Of A Blond Prince#btw if u want claim a track or album :D
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BIRTHDAY ⋮ ICE CREAM CAKE
In hindsight, Minseo should have came up with a different idea for her two hour livestream, but Shinhye hadn't stopped her when she had suggested her idea of wanting to decorate a sheet of ice cream cake. She had gone out of her way to review the recipe for vanilla buttercream, which was the only component she felt comfortable making in front of a camera. She would either succeed and be over the moon with her final result, or concoct a sweet mess on the kitchen counter that was inedible for anyone.
"Here is the ice cream cake!" Minseo swivels the turntable, tilting the tablet to give her fans a better view of the heart-shaped cake, consisting of a vanilla ice cream on the bottom layer, cookie crumble in the center, and chocolate ice cream on the top layer. "It has been chilling in the freezer for a few hours. Isn't it pretty? I asked if it could be shaped into a heart. 'Can I zoom out?'" She follows the request, humming softly when she catches on that the fan was more interested in watching her than the cake. "I think we can compromise."
"How about that?" She adjusts the camera to sit as far back on the counter to capture the background decorated by the sweet staff. "Should we begin? I should admit that I'm not a baker, and avoid the kitchen as much as I can unless inspiration strikes. I kept seeing vintage heart cakes all over the internet. It didn't seem too difficult, but I wanted to do it with a twist! Since my birthday is in the summer, I've always gravitated towards ice cream cakes rather than the traditional birthday cake. I suggest grabbing a snack or a drink because you will get hungry."
"'Did I really get goosebumps during Heaven?'" She firmly nods her head in response, briefly glancing down at the recipe card in front of her to strictly follow the steps. She needed different batches for her sunset color scheme. "I wasn't lying. I was covered in them. I never practiced with Lee Mujin until I showed up to shoot the episode and harmonizing with him was such a touching experience. I chose that as our duet song since I knew that I couldn't measure up to the original, but I wanted to honor all the female artists that made me want to become a singer for my episode. It has always been a song that I wished to cover since I became a trainee, but I never had the courage to do it during evaluations."
"You can't make me cry on my birthday!" She softly huffs after reading through the array of compliments, pointing the spatula in the direction of the camera. "If I'm being honest, it was so difficult narrowing it down the songs that I wanted to cover. I hope that in the future I can show you different sides of myself. I really had fun covering Ariana Grande's 'the boy is mine.' I don't get to sing in English often and I had the song stuck on loop since it came out."
Minseo occupies herself separating the batches of buttercream icing, mixing the food dye into them until she is satisfied with the shades of purple, orange, and pink. Her decorating slows down when she starts accepting song suggestions, but she delicately pipes the shell borders on top of each other with purple and orange icing. Her pink garland was much harder to execute, but she hides the sloppy side from the camera.
"Ta-dah!" She tilts the camera to show the center with the message "thank you" written in cursive. "My birthday has been special because all of you supporting and cheering me on for an entire year now? Wow. Let's spend many more birthdays together in the future!"
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Pandora's box
The traces are fast but delicate, the words flowing out of my brain are gently written on the paper.
I elevate my hand, it falls with the gravity of a thousand pounds and the weight of all my feelings, creating a round final dot.
The ink splashes my hand and some of the roses printed at the end of the paper as I contemplate it just like an artist contemplates it's new creation.
A small piece of paper now has all the feelings I've been experiencing trough my last months, all of my memories. It smells like Chanel number five, her favorite perfume, even if I didn't put any. Stargazing sessions, sunsets in the beach, and cold winter mornings spent laughing with hot drinks are portrayed in elegant cursive letters.
The image of her hair shinning as golden as the sun during that time we were stepping out of that bookstore next to the river plays in my head. She was smiling, her red lipstick curving towards the end of her mouth.
I look again at the letter and then I see her looking at me with tears in her eyes and a disappointed look. She screams at me, as I've just destroyed our friendship. I should have never written it I'm selfish. My tears are watering the paper mixing all of the ink and making it impossible to read.
I've fucked it up.
I take the letter and throw it at the first drawer on the left. Ripped birthday letters, a love letter to that brunette girl with emerald eyes, a resignation letter, the pen that the my grandma gave me, and a many wrinkled papers are in different positions of that Pandora's box.
I can't tell my feelings, I'll never do it. My love is safe inside my heart so it doesn't need to get out. That's the case of my anger, my sadness, my deepest thoughts and my darkest secrets. They will never know. Nobody will ever know.
Not even my mother, my brother, my best friend will find me opening up to them. A Pandora's box should never be opened, they'll only know it if I write it on my suicide letter.
I get the coat and throw the rose at the trash can while I paint my lips with that brown lipstick she gifted me. I get out of the house and close the door cause I'm meeting in thirty minutes with her.
I hope she's wearing her red lipstick and I can sense the smell of Chanel number five tonight.
#girlblogger#aesthetic#blog#poetry#coquette#girlblogging#poem#love#unrequited love#wlw#love letters#writing
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