#i had to bump up some heights from my last go round bc i had the realization that jasmine was at least 4 inches shorter than all of her team

[basicallyjaywalker]

Sometimes I have to remember that I cannot base the scale of characters on my height bc I am. Short to all people

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Team Tokyo First Years + Mario Kart headcanons 

(Ft. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, you & commentary from Sukuna)

This disaster happened because Yuji was bored. Isn't this how most shenanigans at Jujutsu Tech start?

Yuji was going through old boxes he never unpacked. Yeah, it's been months. He's lazy.

He found this one that he didn't pack himself. He pulled it out of the storage closet when Gojo helped him move from Sendai to Tokyo and he just grabbed it

He wonders what's in it

Its mostly full of cords he has no idea what they go to, a couple of headphones and

uwu what's this

Oh my gOD IT'S HIS WII

This thing is 12 y/o he hadn't seen it in at least 6 does it even still work

Looks like the controllers and cords are here let's plug it in

IT WORKS

Oh god it's so old

Okay what games are there

Just Dance, Wii Sports, Mario Kart, Cooking Ma-

MARIO KART OH GOD THE NOSTALGIA

This was his absolute favorite game to play as a kid

Can you believe he's never played it with anyone else?

He's gotta get the gang here

He texts the group chat and proposes they have a game night

Surprisingly the students answer his text really quick; Gojo seems to be off doing who knows what

Megumi knocks and lets himself in. He's only here because he has nothing better to do. That and if he had ignored the text all Yuji would do is bang on the wall or worse- come to his door

Nobara barges in as usual- why is she carrying so much stuff

Guess who just got free LED lights for their room to "set the mood?" 

Uhhh Nobara why are you wearing a tracksuit it's fucking Mario Kart

Oh she's very serious about this

At least she brought snacks

You didn't even read that Mario Kart was involved you just wanted to hang out with Yuji

Okay let's get started Megumi wants to go home even if he is enjoying the bonding time

Nobara curls up in Yuji's bed as if it's her own; Megumi picks a comfy spot on the floor with his back against the bed; Yuji chooses his beanbag chair; you pick [Yuji's lap, next to Megumi w/ your legs across his lap, cuddled up with Nobara]

While Yuji picks out the perfect playlist to play from his speakers, Nobara takes the liberty of going through the Wii.

She has to make herself a Mii it's a rule

This takes like thirty minutes by itself

She edits Yuji's Mii to look more like him (since he made it when he was about eight) and names it Himbo

She makes you a Mii while over-exaggerating your height (by making it very short or very tall) and names it Pookie

She makes Megumi a Mii real fast and names it Cranky BitchBoy

Yuji tells her to be nice

She changes it to Emo Sea Urchin

Good enough

After an hour passes, they're finally ready to play

Except Yuji only put batteries in one controller and he has no batteries

They tear his room apart before finally stealing batteries from his headphones and remotes

Nobara waits until now to announce she can only race with the steering wheel

....and Megumi prefers the nunchuck to motion controls are you fucking-

Yuji tears the box apart and manages to find a fucking steering wheel and a fucking nunchuck

Okay, can we start now?

Mario Kart: Wii!! Wahoo!

Alright; should we play teams or-

"It's bad enough I have to work with you guys in real life, no"

You and Nobara are on team red, the boys on team blue

She makes it very clear she's going to make them eat her dust

She didn't say it that way btw, that's the most polite way of putting it

Yuji chooses Waluigi because he's a meme and makes funny WAAAA noises

Megumi chooses Yoshi because he's a medium character. Medium characters have a field advantage because smaller characters get bumped around while larger characters have drag. Also-

Nobara chooses Daisy because "Damn they made her so thicc".

You choose [character]

Yuji is so eager to play he doesn't care what kart he chooses

Megumi takes forever to decide between a kart or bike and finally chooses the Sneakster

Nobara chooses the Mach Bike bc of how it makes her character look

You choose [cart/bike]

You four argue over what course to do

So you end up taking turns choosing

Nobara pauses halfway through the first race because her character won't fucking turn

Yuji insists it isn't the controller so they trade for one round

Its the controller

Upon further inspection, it was deemed that it looked like the controller had been soaked in some sort of juice

It was the grape soda incident of 2010

Okay gotta get a new controller

Okay it's fixed

Yuji forgot 1) he was player one and 2) he wasn't Yoshi (his normal character) and spent two laps staring at the wrong screen

He still finished 11th. Nobara finished 7th, you finished 3rd and Megs finished 2nd

Yuji ended up catching up really fast until he started showing Nobara tips

See Nobara claimed she knew everything about the game

So Yuji showed her how to flick the remote when she jumped and how to hold the go button down when the countdown was at 2 

She rlly did leave him in the dust

Yuji and Nobara lean their whole bodies with the controller while Megumi sits completely still

Nobara gets way into this game I stg she screams and yells and kicks her feet I hate it

She tries to bump your and Yuji's controllers to throw you off

"Noba-chan, I'm on your team"

"I don't give a fUCK STOP BEATING ME"

"IM ON YOUR TEAM"

"AHHHHHHHH"

Slap fight ensues

At some point, Toge comes and knocks on the door because he can hear the screaming from all the way down the hall

"Are you guys...okay?" -Inumaki language

Nobara just complains, so he leaves

You and Megumi are so fucking good at this game

Nobara starts targeting you two with shells until she realizes you're on her team and they don't hurt you

"Truce?"

All you can do is sigh

At some point, Sukuna comes out 

He thinks he's a sports commentator

He announces every little thing, like when someone falls or gets shelled

Which always makes Yuji look away from his screen

Sukuna proceeds to bully Yuji for running into walls, falling off, etc.

You laugh but quit when Yuji pouts

Nobara doesn't stop laughing

Despite Yuji being an idiot and having to be carried by Megumi, blue team wins

Nobara throws her controller and screams some more

Yuji breaks out into hysterics for some reason

Megumi sighs. He gets ready to go home but-

"Sit down Fushiguro that was just a warm-up round"

Okay, fine, he'll just beat her again

Nobara pulls you and Yuji to the side

"We gotta beat Fushiguro"

Yuji was bribed with food

No teams this time

"Let's do Rainbow Ro-" "NO" 

Daisy's Circuit it is 

"Hey Yuu-chan can I play a song"

"Sure name-chan"

"Hey Alexa play Move Bitch by Ludacris"

AHAHAHHAHAHA MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY

This is Nobara's song. She is invincible with this song.

Maybe it really was a warm-up round, Nobara is doing much better this time

She's in first place

It looks like Megumi is getting bored, he's falling back, losing his lead

Now if his calculations are correct, when you're in last place you're more likely to get-

Bingo

"Kugisaki, do you love me?"

"What the fuck, are you going soft on me Fushigu- don't you fucking dare"

"Goodbye Kugisaki"

"STOP STOP HOW DO I AVOID A BLUE SHELL ITADORI"

"YOU CAN'T YOU'RE FUCKED"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK"

Nobara doesn't finish the race due to the fact she is throwing a temper tantrum. She throws her controller so hard she breaks the wheel, controller and puts a dent in the wall

He hides it with a poster btw

Megumi wins.

"Avenge me, name-chan"

"Noba-chan we have one last race we can still beat him"

Nobara is PUMPED

Oh my god when no was looking Megumi chose Rainbow Road

Okay pause

Whoever falls off the most is gonna be the person who fell of the least's bitch for the week

Sinister laughing ensues

In conclusion: Yuji is now your bitch

Yujikuna gets bitchslapped for making dirty remarks

Nobara is the first to tap out due to lack of controller and ends up feeding you chips while you race

You tap out and end up snuggling with Nobara as the boys pull out another game that's two player

You two fall asleep while watching them bicker over which way to go

Megumi pauses the game and the boys just end up scrolling through their phones and talking-

-Until Yuji falls asleep in the beanbag chair

Finally, Megumi can go back to his room...

...Except, you three are so cute

Its kinda like a sleepover

Y'know, he doesn't hate you guys

He's just really bad at emotions

Should he stay

Yuji does have another beanbag he can crash on

...He'll just say he fell asleep going through Twitter or something

Goodnight... Friends

[kyidyl]

Kyidyl Explains Bones - Part 4.2

(These are all collected in the KyidylBones tag.  Additionally, this is the second half of part four - please read the first half here, especially if you have questions or comments about the ethics of what I’m talking about here.  I’m going to be leaving that out as this is a continuation of that post.)

Since I’m skipping the talking and ethical statements in this one, let’s just get right into the bones.  As a reminder, this is about race determination in skeletal remains.  

White/Caucasoid.  

Female, front view. (Source)

Male, profile view (Source)

So let’s break this down in an orderly way (I will put the comparisons and stuff at the bottom in an orderly table for easy reference.  Hell, this is partially for my own reference too bc I never remember this stuff off the top of my head.): 

Eye shape and sharpness - This is easiest to see in the front view, obviously.  White skulls that have stereotypically white features will have eye orbits that are technically called “square with rounded edges” (or as we call them in the nail world....sqoval.), but they sit at kind of an angle where they’re higher in the middle and lower at the lateral sides so most of us just refer to them as “aviator glasses” which I think is pretty funny of us.  And although you obviously can’t feel it with your fingers, the borders of the eye sockets will be sharper.  

Prognathism - As you can see from the bottom image, on a caucasian skull there is a low amount of prognathism.  The chin is often behind the spine of the nose rather than protruding.  European skulls have flatter faces, basically.  Although this male has a bit of an overbite so the curve around his teeth is more severe than it otherwise might be.  Generally speaking though, you’ll be able to draw a line from the nasal spine to the chin and not much will stick out past the line and the line will be straight.  The “muzzle” area of the face is less pronounced.  

Nasal Shape - This is actually mathematically determined by a measurement called the nasal index.  It is the ratio of the height to the width multiplied by 100.  European skulls have thin, tall noses, and you can see that illustrated pretty well in the woman above.  

Nasal Sill - On caucasians, the nasal spine aka sticky-outy-bit at the bottom of the opening that you can see in profile is more pronounced.  It sticks out further.  This means that a caucasian skull will also have more guttering behind the edge of the sill.  IE, if you stick your finger in its nose and run it along the bottom of the nasal passage, you will feel a distinct dip. Europeans have a distinct nasal sill.  

Nasal Bridge - White have shorter nasal bones, and so the bridge of their nose is shorter in profile.  It also usually has a more extreme curve in the area inferior to the browbone.  This male actually isn’t a good example of that, because his nasal bones are long for a caucasian skull.  Basically, our noses stick out further.  

Unique skull features - None.  Caucasian skulls are kinda boring TBH.  

Next, we have black/African skulls.  In the US especially this can be a lot harder to determine because of centuries of admixture with the white population: 

This is a front and profile view of the same male, african individual. (Source)

Something you’ll start to notice as we go through this is that Black skulls and white skulls usually have opposite features and asian skulls are between these two extremes (Except for eye orbit shape.  Here it’s Asian on one end and African on the other, with European inbetween.).  If you think about geography here, it kinda makes sense.  Anyway, the skull features: 

Eye orbit shape and sharpness - African skulls tend to have eye orbits that are more square in shape, and often aren’t angled the way they are in whites.  This individual’s are angled though so they’re not super stereotypical of what would be considered characteristic of African eye orbits.  His are fairly square though.  The edges of the orbits tend to be softer and less distinct.  

Prognathism - African skulls are prognathic, meaning that they stick out the furthest.  In this individual, you’ll notice that it isn’t just his teeth that stick out past the line because of an overbite, the entire upper part of the maxilla is curved outwards.  African faces are much less flat than white ones.  The “muzzle” area is more pronounced.  

Nasal Shape - As you might expect, African nasal shapes are much wider and shorter than European ones.  They appear a lot rounder, and this is something that’s fairly unique to them, especially if the individual has very stereotypically African features.  

Nasal Sill - The nasal spine sticks out much less in an African skull - I’ve seen individuals who barely had one at all.  Between that and the prognathism, the bone almost seems as if it stretches, and you see very little silling.  So if you stick your finger up its nose you won’t have a sharp edge with a dip behind it in the nasal passage.  Sometimes there won’t even be a sill at all.  I actually found a really good image of this, but I don’t want to mess up tumblr’s list ordering, so I’ll stick it in below the list.  

Nasal Bridge - Africans have flatter noses, and to accommodate this their nasal bones are longer and the curve that’s inferior to the browbones is much less acute.  Their noses stick out less than that of Europeans’, and it’s something that is fairly consistent in their skeletal remains.  

Unique racial features - Not many, but Africans do have something called a “bushman’s canine”. Now, I’m gonna be honest with you guys and tell you that I STILL have problems identifying this feature.  This is despite the fact that I was taught dental anthropology by one of the dudes who basically came up with these guidelines.  So on the bottom of the upper canines there is a bump of tooth enamel that is more pronounced on Africans than it is on other races.  There’s a grading scale and stuff.  You can read about it here.  Now I found that by just googling Bushman’s canine, but one of the authors (Joel Irish) was my prof, lol.  Here’s a picture of it, but actually the drawing in that paper above is better at illustrating the two opposite ends of the scale.  I added the lines: 

(Source)

In addition, here’s the image showing the nose shape: 

(Source)

African skulls will also sometimes have stronger muscle attachment sites, but honestly there’s a lot of that part of anatomy that’s social so it’s not something you can use to ID them unless you know what they should be for the society you’re looking into.  

Ok, so that’s African skulls done.  Next up, Asian.  As a reminder, Asian and Native American skulls are *extremely* similar.  This is because they share common ancestors.  This is also confirmed by their genetics (Native American genetics are super interesting, but that’s a whole other thing.).  

(Source)

This is an Asian male.  

Eye Shape/Sharpness - Asians and Natives have round eye sockets, and the edge of the socket is of middling sharpness.  In addition, their cheekbones tend to be flatter and wider, so the combination of these things makes their skull shape pretty distinctive.  Personally I find Asian and Native American skulls to be the easiest to ID, and a lot of these features persist through admixture, too.  

Prognathism - Asian/NA skulls have a middling amount of protrusion.  This individual has a distinct prognathism, but it’s honestly hit or miss.  They can have it either way.  Asian cheekbones tend to mitigate the visual effect though so it’s a bit harder to see without specifically looking for it in profile with a straightedge.  

Nasal Shape - As you can see from this individual, the nasal opening is neither as tall as caucasians nor as wide as Africans.  Again, this correlates to what you might expect given their phenotypes in life.  Theirs are the most heart shaped, too.  

Nasal Sill - This is another area where they fall between the “very pronounced” of whites and the “not at all pronounced” of Africans.  This individual barely has a nasal spine at all, but does appear to have something of a sill that would be present if you felt inside the nasal passage for it.  

Nasal Bridge - Same as above, it falls in between the two extremes in shape and length.  

Unique Racial Features - This is why I think Asian and Native Skulls are the easiest to ID.  They have some really interesting racial quirks i their skull anatomy.  First off, they have what’s called a persistent metopic suture.  When we’re all babies our forehead (frontal) bone is in two pieces, and then they fuse.  The suture between the two is then obliterated, IE, completely healed and smoothed over.  In Asians and Native Americans, this suture fuses but you can still see it: 

(Source)

It’s a completely harmless genetic variant that runs in those racial groups.  The second easy to identify feature is shoveling.  On the back of the upper (Maxillary) incisors.  It’s basically just a difference in shape; a border around the back of the tooth.  It looks like this: 

(Source)

And here is the scale we use to grade it: 

(Source - heheh there’s Joel again.)

It’s found on the lower incisors as well, but it’s easiest to see on the maxillary ones.  

The last easy indicator is found along the sutures along the top and back of the skull.  The coronal (arc along the front like a crown), sagittal (top center) and lambdoid (where the parietals fuse to the occipital.  It’s like a downward V on the back of your skull.) sutures can be what’s called simple or complex.  In Africans and whites, the sutures are mostly simple.  In Asians and Native Americans, it’s complex.  What that means is that the wiggly line is so wiggly that it loops back on itself and forms extra small bones called wormian bones.  Sometimes these bones can actually be very large and have names.  Here’s what a skull with small wormian bones looks like: 

(Source)

The bones with the star are the wormian bones, although there are other, smaller ones.  Very large ones are called Inca Bones, after the population they were first identified in.  They look like this: 

(Source)

A and B are examples of Inca bones.  They’re generally a harmless genetic variant.  

Lastly, we’ll address aborigonal features: 

(Source)

This is an aboriginal man.  Aboriginal is a generalized term for any indigenous group, but in anthropology - and from what I can see most places - we use it to describe people indigenous to Australia and the surrounding islands.  The reason why it is only sometimes considered a separate category is that it’s pretty localized, and the differences really come down to some special features.  So here are the main differences you can look for to tell if a skull is aboriginal: 

Large teeth.  Aboriginal people have really big teeth.  There’s no other way to put this, they just...they’re large.  

Very pronounced browbone.  As you can see above, the browbone is MUCH heavier on an aboriginal skull than on any other kind of skull.  This is especially true for males.  

Flatter chin.  It’s called the mental protuberance, and on an aboriginal individual it is less prominent than on other individuals.  

Large occipital bun.  The occipital bun is the bit at the bottom back of your skull where your neck muscles attach.  You can see it in the profile picture in the far right sticking out of the bottom of the skull.  It’s especially pronounced in aboriginal people.  

Ok, so there is one more important characteristic for judging race that I totally forgot to include yesterday, and that’s palatine shape.  The dental arcade is the area of the maxilla that houses the teeth.  Basically the top of your mouth.  And as you, a human person, knows - it’s in the shape of an arch.  But that arch varies in shape from race to race.  And, what your probably don’t know from not seeing a bunch of skulls, is that there are sutures in there.  Between 2-4, but even when you have two they bisect each other and look like 4.  The shape of these sutures also varies from race to race.  Again, it’s a harmless genetic variant that runs in various geographic areas.  However, I’m going to elect to skip it because there’s already a LOT of info in this post and going into it with the depth it deserves would be a lot.  Instead, I’m going to just summarize here for you all WRT the characteristics I’ve listed: 

Eye sockets: White - Aviator glasses, rounded square, sharp edge.  Black - square/rectangle, blunt edge.  Asian & Native - Round, middling sharp edges.  

Prognathism: White - little to no prognathism.  Black - most pronounced prognathism.  Asian & Native - varies between these two extremes.  

Nasal Shape: White - tall and thin.  Black - short and round.  Asian & Native - in-between these two.  

Nasal Sill: White - sharp nasal spine, deep well behind a sharp wall.  Black - Little or no spine, smooth sill.  Asian & Native - Varies between these two.  

Nasal Bridge: White - short nasal bones, more extreme curve.  Black - longer, flatter nasals, a much less extreme curve.  Asian & Native - you guessed it...between these two extremes.  

Unique racial features: White - None. Black - Bushman’s canine.  Asian & Native - tooth shoveling, persistent metopic suture, wormian/Inca bones.  

And that is it! The rest of this series shouldn’t be quite this sensitive with respect to the subject matter.  Tomorrow is gonna be the archaeology of graves AKA how to dig up dead people.  =D After that will be (in no specific order) age determination, height determination, and teeth.  Maybe other things if I feel like it.  If you have questions or requests, don’t hesitate to ask! 

[tsukkisbean]

24 cakes pt.1 | oneshot

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

genre: fluff, mildly suggestive

warnings: none!

a/n: so this kind of turned into a oneshot but oh well. i also tried to make it so that you could technically read the two parts separately if you prefer fluff/smut over the other but idk how well that worked out. anyways, pt 2 has been scheduled to come out in 2 hours. n e ways TSUKISHIMA BEST BOY!! also this is a reupload bc my original post disappeared. if you already saw this NO U DIDN’T

the smell of smoke engulfs your apartment and you quickly run to slide open your balcony door. turning on your heels you make your way back to the kitchen. clambering atop the counter you try to wave the air clear with your palms. when the piercing sound of the smoke alarm finally cuts out, you plop down, letting your legs dangle over the edge of the counter.

your eyes land on the stovetop where your burnt creation sits. you let out a frustrated cry. you’ve made this recipe more times than you can count on your fingers because somehow they’ve all ended up in disaster. first, there was the time you underbeat the whipped cream, and ended up with a sticky mess. then there was the time you accidentally knocked the batter onto the floor. not to mention the time you dropped the cake right as you pulled it out of the oven.

this time you had gotten so wrapped up in your phone call with tsukishima you didn’t realize that your oven timer was going off. by the time you had come to your senses, it was too late.

you rub your temples in annoyance. despite starting weeks in advance to make sure you had the recipe down, it was now the day of your boyfriend’s birthday and you had yet to successfully finish the recipe even once.

taking a quick glance at the clock, you push yourself off the counter to throw away your burnt masterpiece and begin pulling out ingredients once more. tsukishima was supposed to be over in a few hours, so if you wanted to have enough time you had to start now.

you’re about to combine the dry ingredients together when there’s a brisk knock on the door. dusting your hands on your apron, you make your way to the front entrance. you swing your door open, and slam it shut just as fast. 

the knocking starts up again, this time more persistent and more aggressive. your fingers fumble with the door chain, sliding it into place before cracking the door open ever so slightly. you’re about to peek out into the hallway, but before you can get a good view, your visitor tries to force the door open further causing you to jump back in surprise.

“y/n? what the hell are you doing?” the person on the other side says, irritation evident in their voice. when you don’t respond they speak again, this time with a much softer tone, “y/n please let me in. are you okay?”

“mhm” is the only thing you manage to squeeze out though it sounds more like a squeak. gently pressing the door closed again, you remove the chain to let your visitor in. when your boyfriend comes into full view, you flash him a bashful smile, “sorry, kei. i was just caught off guard, i thought we agreed that you’d come over at 9pm.”

the tall male scoffs, raising his hand to give your forehead a flick, before perching forward to press an apologetic kiss against the red mark, “nii-chan got held up at work so he won’t be here until tomorrow.”

you try to pull off your best scowl, only to have him to snort at you, “so? are you going to let me in or are you going to keep making faces at me?” he cranes his neck to look past you, his height giving him a clear advantage.

reluctantly, you step aside and he lets himself in, removing his shoes and changing into his slippers in the process. as the two of you step into the kitchen, you avoid eye contact, already able to picture the smug expression on his face.

his arms slip around your waist, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. despite the sweet actions, the nuance in his voice says otherwise, “aw y/n were you trying to bake me a birthday cake? you really shouldn’t have.”

you pull away from him, sticking out your tongue in response, “fine in that case i’m going to make this strawberry shortcake for myself.” you tap your chin pretending to deep in thought for a moment, “or maybe i’ll ask yamaguchi if he wants some.”

you expect a snarky remark but he says nothing, instead he strides over to one of the drawers to pull out an apron. you watch as he hooks the bib around his neck, and fastens the string around his waist.

he picks up the recipe by the corner, letting it dangle in the air. he shoots you a questioning look but you shrug your shoulders and snatch the paper out of his hands. “so i’ve already tried to bake this recipe a couple of times, it’s bound to have a couple of stains here and there.”

“how many times is a couple, really? three? ten? fifty?”

you mutter something under your breath, fingers fiddling with each other. tsukishima leans in closer, cupping his ear with his hand, “sorry, can you say that again?”

you roll your eyes, this time your voice at a normal volume, “twenty-three.”

this time tsukishima laughs with his whole chest, using his pointer finger to gently push your head, “twenty-three? i’m surprised you haven’t burned the entire place down.”

placing your hands on your hips, you challenge him, “what? you think you can do better?”

he shifts in his spot so that your eyes are level with his, “oh i know i can do better.”

with that, he snatches the recipe back from you, doing a careful readthrough of each step. you watch as he scoops a cup of flour, neatly levelling it with a metal spatula. just as he’s about to pour the flour into the bowl, you lunge forward, bumping your hip against his side. a white cloud rises into the air, coating the both of you in flour.

tsukishima grabs you by the wrists, clicking his tongue in annoyance “tsk, do you really hate losing that much?”

you feign innocence, flashing him your sweetest smile, “sorry, i lost my balance.”

unable to think of a comeback he releases you, turning his attention back to the task at hand. as works through each step, you shadow him, interjecting a few comments every so often.

wrapping your arms around his waist, you rest your face against the side of his body, “are you sure that’s soft peaks it’s looking a little runny still”

he tilts the bowl towards you, lifting the mixer up so you can see how the egg whites droop over slightly, “yes i’m sure.”

you take your chance again when he moves onto the next step, “be careful not to add the sugar too fast or-”

but to your dismay he’s already one step ahead of you,“then the stiff peaks won’t form, i know.”

in a last resort to try and distract him, you throw in one last punch, “are you really sure you want to fold your meringue in now? it’s looking a little soft still.” obviously fed up with your antics, tsukishima grabs the metal bowl, flipping it above your head.

instinctively, you duck your head down and cover your head with your hands. cracking an eye open, you’re met with his usual smirk. and so, you shuffle over to the other side of the counter situating yourself on one of the bar stools.

you watch silently as he works through the final steps with ease. once the cake is placed in the oven he turns his attention back to you.

his long frame leans over the kitchen counter and kisses the tip of your nose, “sorry, but it looks like this is just one more thing that i’m better than you at. although 24 cakes does seem appropriate for today’s occasion, huh?”

you huff, crossing your arms against your chest, “technically you’re not finished until the cake its cooked, iced, and decorated.” turning your head slightly you side eye him, “besides you may be better than me at some things. but you’re definitely not everything.”

a sly smile appears on tsukishima’s face, “oh yeah? i can think of plenty of things that i can beat you at right now.”

your palms hit the counter as your body shoots out of its seat, “oh yeah? let’s go then. right here, right now.”

(a/n: if you want to read the smutty ending of this then please check out my blog at 3:00pm pst (in 2 hrs)! i’ve scheduled the next post for then. otherwise read on hehe.)

your entire body quivers under your boyfriend. never have you wanted to scream at him so bad before. but you bite your tongue and hold yourself back for the time being. there was no way you were going to lose to him, not when you had so confidently declared that you were going to beat him.

“left hand yellow, y/n.”

you let out a triumphant yell as your hand is already planted on a yellow spot. but the feeling is short lived when you realize that you now have to maneuver yourself to reach the spinner. it’s obvious your boyfriend is thinking the same thing from the way he shoots you a smile.

but you refuse to lose, not when you’ve held out for this long. before your hand reaches the spinner, a blaring noise fills the room.

the two of you look at each other, and this time it’s you who shoots him a knowing smile. he glowers at you as he twists his body to stand up. once he stands up fully erect, your arms and legs give out, your body crumpling onto the floor.

as you lay there, a delicious scent fills your nostrils. automatically, you rise to your feet, skittering over to join your boyfriend by the oven. he takes notice of your presence, and defensively holds his arms out, “don’t you dare come anywhere near my cake. you might ruin it.”

your mouth hangs open, reaching out to give his chest a playful shove, “hey i’m good at baking. i just had a few…mishaps.” your voice trails off momentarily, “plus i just beat you at twister, so technically we’re tied for today!”

tsukishima clicks his tongue, obviously irritated at the fact that he most likely would have won if it weren’t for the timer going off.

“let’s play another round, loser has to wash all the dishes.” he extends his hand out to you.

grabbing his hand, you give it a firm shake, “you’re on! prepare to lose, kei.”

your grip loosens but before you can completely pull your hand away, you’re tugged against tsukishima’s body. in one swift motion his lips capture yours in a chaste kiss. after a moment, he pulls away slightly, letting your lips brush against each other as he speaks, “whatever you say, love. but just remember today is my birthday.”

a/n: hello!! i’m putting my final author’s note here just because i didn’t wanna spoil the ending hehe. anyways i hope you guys liked the ending now i’m thinking about doing twister hc with haikyuu sooooooo look out for that :)

[bciwasinlove]

Hi. I have not been on twitter or even in the fandom long enough so i came here to ask you about something. What's with the song claiming thing? Suddenly ziams are claiming songs that have been claimed as larry song. No I'm not gate keeping. Pardon my word choice.I'm not English. But I'm just curious. As long as i have been in this fandom, no control was a larry song the moment it came out and everyone was ok with it and even ziams never claimed it before.now suddenly they are like oh liam also wrote it? Home has always been larry song considering the timeline, him leaking and all, ziams never claimed it before, now suddenly home is a ziam song too? 18 was taken as a larry song from the moment ed said it was written from 1D perspective and everyone was ok with it considering how Louis used to literally serenade Harry like turning his whole body,changing pronouns etc. No one had a problem untill now. Suddenly in 2020/21 ziams are claiming it. Why didn’t they do it before? Why now? I'm just curious.

Warning selfies have been a thing with Louis for years. Now suddenly it is linked with liam too? How? Did he do it before or something? I genuinely don't know. So let me know plz.

The whole devlin thing, devlin album came out in 2017 i guess and they comparing Louis tweet with zayn tweeting that is from 2016. How does that make sense?

Also some people say larry closeting didn’t work but ziam did...awful thing to say. If it didn’t work then there wouldn’t be so many antis and they are still going through so much. People wouldn’t believe Harry dates every woman that breaths around him. And they claim there are two bbg in ziam relationship right? Why did they need two bbg if it worked? I mean if the closeting worked? Bbg has nothing to do with relationships.

Idk if ziam was real or not but I'm sure gigi was pregnant, she had that symptoms, pregnancy glow,tired face and all. Now whoever the father may be..idk.

I'm not convinced about ziam and how does that make me hypocrite? Also there are some "if this counts(larry),this counts too(ziam)" thread. what's with the comparison?

Sorry about the rant.

Hello anon wow this is long a lot to unpack so I'll start with your song questions.

Idk why ziammies are suddenly trying to claim songs that have ALWAYS been larry related. Especially when Liam said in an interview that Louis and him were a song writing duo for 1D BUT that he wrote the melodies and it was Louis who wrote the song lyrics. Last I checked melodies don't equal meaning of a song so how are these songs about ziam?

Some examples of this....

They are trying to claim Home but Liam said the song was personal to Louis and how when he read the lyrics he didn't want to change them. Home is also a direct response to If I Could Fly with ONLY Harry on the credits. Home was leaked by Louis the night of Belfest when Larry found out BG was being taken pasted the birth of a kid and it pissed off Louis so he leaked Home as payback bc it was clearly a loud song management didn't want on the album.

They are trying to claim 18 but the song was written by Ed who said [compared to other 1D songs he wrote for them] he wrote 18 with a 1D member in mind. [That is why we claim the song at all.] Ed was closeted in the band to Harry next being Louis and Niall he was the least closeted to Zayn and Liam. Side note Ed has a song called Friends that he said was about 2 friends of his who fell in love and when a fan yelled L&H he laughed/smirked and said init so it makes the most sense 18 was written with Harry in mind. Plus 18 is about meeting/loving someone sense they were 18 and it was only Louis who was 18 when they all met and it was Harry who would scream NO 16 when singing the song. Also larry changed the lyrics to HIM and would stare directly at each other when singing 18 livem According to ziam MPs ziam weren't a couple until at least 2 years into the band so why would 18 make sense for them also given they were both 17 when they met & none ever went NO 17 when singing it.

They are trying to claim No Control but that song as we know is about the morning after sex and the second round they end up having. Like stated before Louis wrote the lyrics to 1D songs and Niall plus Larry always made it DAMN CLEAR what that song was about. Also remember when Harry would always jam out hard core when Louis would sing his part in No Control aka majority of the song. Yeah that song is Louis song no doubt.

They try to claim Alive which makes no sense bc Zayn nor Liam is on the credits at all only Louis. They say it's bc Liam said he related to the song ok I see that but still he didn't write it and still how does this song equate to ziam? Alive is more a song used as proof Louis isn't straight bc it's about self exceptance of who you are even tho others around you for along time made u feel there is something wrong with you. It's about Louis who is more confident part way through the story being told and then helping his lover [who seems to be a bit insecure about themselves] except and love who they are. Since Liam didn't write on it the relationship aspect couldn't be about him and Zayn. Since he said he just relates to Alive at BEST it could mean he might not be straight but it can't be used as proof of who his partner is when he didn't write on it.

There's others but I think you get the point they have always been larry or hinting at Louis sexuality songs so I don't get why or how they are suddenly saying their ziam songs? Myself @lovemylarents and @fearlessmoon09 think bored people in quarantine is what happened to change the landscape.

To your next question warning selfies...

So warning selfies was something Louis did everytime something BG stunt related was going to happen. He started it and did it a ton back in 2016/17 when BG stunting was massive for him. Liam never had anything to do with warning selfies and Louis warning selfies were ALWAYS like I said BG related so suddenly ziammies going Liam does warning selfies for things involving Maya or Gigi makes no sense. It was ALWAYS a Louis thing.

For the Devlin thing...

You hit the nail on the coffin with that one the album with the song Cold Blooded that had the lyrics "so is it true XXXX fathered a baby? I don't really think so, if you ask me he don't like ladies. Could have been HARRY, yeah, I bet it was HARRY" [emphasis on Harry bc I saw a ziammie change the lyrics to Liam] came out in 2017 while Zayns tweet was done in 2016. Unlike Louis tweet which was specifically about this album not just the artist and tweeted during the height of BG stunting. So not the best comparison. They really should fact check before making these "larries are hypocrites" threads bc veteran larries know and fact check everything.

Next thing you mentioned what I call their slogan "larries closeting didn't work but ziams did that is why less talk about/believe in ziam then larry" piss me off so much and what you said it right. If larry's closeting didn't work then we wouldn't be here complaing about how the GP sees Harry as a queerbaiting womanizer, how solo henries who want to have sex and suck Harry's dick exist and how some locals don't want to join Louis fandom bc they think Louis and his fans are homophobic or that twarries exist thinking Louis is a deadbeat dad. Tell me again ziammies how their closeting didn't work? It is so invalidating to everything larry has been put through. Also if larry's closeting didn't work but ziams did then why did they need 2 BGs for Ziam and only one for Larry? Myself @kaybutlarry @babyhoney-28 and @onlythebravestan are still waiting on an answer to that question haven't gotten one.

As you said about Gigi yes she definitely looked more pregnant then Briana ever did. The reason I don't believe in their BG with Gigi is bc their story is inconsistenent. Side note back when Liam had a kid no one besides a few on tumblr ever said it was BG 2.0 they didn't start saying BG 2&3 until Gigi happened. Back to inconsistenences so their original story when we first learned Gigi was pregnant was it's fake just like Briana there's no kid, then when Gigi did the livesteam showing she had a bump and a round face you get when pregnant the story changed to she's pregnant the kid is just not Zayn's.

Then I recently saw some who [after the kid was born] went back to the story the kid is fake there is no kid OR they are using a child actor. Unlike Louis BG they don't have a consistent story that makes sense. Also the kids are never shown unlike with Louis kid F gets posted every damn day with creepy and bad photoshop, and a million articles about how he is Louis twin to shove it down our throats the kid is Louis. The situations have NEVER been the same with Louis vs even just Liam kid.

To your last point ziammies keep calling and making threads about how larries are hypocrites bc we don't believe what they do which is damn annoying bc they constantly say just leave us alone why do you care we exist but then constantly make threads like that getting mad we aren't all ziammies. If your going to make threads against us then yeah were going to say something and respond to your threads the way we would to a debunking larry anti thread. Their threads like that are either using funny coincidences of larry that we don't use as concrete proof to compare to ziam OR their ziam version of our proof has been debunked already like the Ziam Levine Stylinson sticker on the bears. [If you want more info on that ask @lovemylarents.]

They constantly take what is a larry proof and say it's also about ziam [Example the songs] or have a ziam proof that mirrors a larry proof. [Example the devlin thing or selfies] In their threads they always compare miniscule larry things that aren't our MAIN proof. See the miniscule proofs are the house and the big proofs are the concrete foundation that without it those miniscule things would not be able to really count as proof of larry and the larry house would fall. Ziammies ONLY have miniscule proof not a very solid foundation so I'm unsure how long their house will last.

I have been in this fandom for 10 years I have seen MANY ships come and go [Examples: Ziam, Ziall and Narry] but the one ship that has always been here was Larry. Larries have been here for 10 years, Larries are the ones who are talked about in the media, Larries are the ones constsntly gaslighted, Larry is the one ship that needs to be denied a bunch [poorly might I add] there's NEVER been any other ship or ship group people have hated, gone against or talked about this much besides Larries/Larry.

Funny [not for us] but funny that Liam goes through all the trouble of gaslighting Larries and talking about EVERY Louis stunt but he never mentioned Ziam which is a ship that actually involves him or the Ziammies who say Bear isn't his kid. Why did he talk about US and not THEM which involve him? Also funny Liam can easily say the word Ziam but Louis can't pronounce an EASY @ just bc it has the word Eroda in it.

My mutrals and I all agreed we didn't give af that ziammies existed until they kept talking shit about how we aren't ziams to and then go why are larries acting like antis hating us. First off it was NEVER larries hating on them it was toxic solo Zsquad and solo Liam stans who were. We didn't get involved until the entire tl was LARRIES ARE HATING US AND BEING HYPOCRITES. Second off and my last thought it's easy if you don't want us in your replies then don't make threads about us being hypocrites and use easily debunked ziam proof or miniscule larry proof to mirror bc we will point it out bc you think were hypocrites thank you.

[fullmetalscullyy]

Can I have #1 and #73 for Royai from your prompt list? I know its a weird mash-up, but it would be so much fun to see what you come up with...

i saw this and an idea instantly popped into my head sdkjfdjks so thank you for that! i also didn’t expect to get any asks after rbing that list so also, thanks!

i went kinda crack with it and i hope it comes across well also i changed the last part of the prompt just slightly to make it fit the situation bc it was difficult to try and fit it in :’)

thank you for this one! i had a lot of fun with it uwu

“kidnapped?” // “spread your legs,be free”

Roy groaned as his head rolledpainfully only to strike something incredibly hard. His eyes opened groggily tofind himself staring at a concrete wall. His training kicked in and he stilled,trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible without giving awaythe fact he was awake.

His hands were bound behind his back bya thick rope. His hands were covered by a familiar cloth, so he noticed hestill had his gloves on. He smirked to himself. Idiots.

The next thing he took stock of was hewas on his left side and his head had collided with the wall in front of him.His fingers twitched so see if there was anything behind him, but he could onlyfeel air. The same went for his feet.

Taking a moment to listen, he discernedno walking or voices nearby. There was the sound of breathing coming frombehind him though, so he continued to pretend until he could tell who it was.

Roy couldn’t tell how long he waited,but eventually the breathing changed and someone groaned.

A woman, more noticeably. It appearedthey’d suffered the same fate he had.

“Ah,” the woman muttered inpain and Roy’s stomach dropped when he recognised the voice.

“Lieutenant?” he asked quietly,and the breathing stopped all together. “It’s Mustang. You’re behindme.”

There was no reply as she no doubt ranher own assessment, similar to his. Finally satisfied, she spoke.

“Sir? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, but I assume we’vebeen kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped? Are you forreal?”

“What?” he spluttered. Whywould he lie?

“Kidnapped by who?”

“I don’t know. I only woke up ashort while ago.”

Hawkeye huffed to herself and Roy heardher move. Deciding himself that it was safe, he too sat up -

Only for his head to collide with theceiling.

“Motherfu -!”

Hawkeye shushed him violently.“Quiet!”

“Quiet?” he exclaimed as hisbody rocked as a reaction to the sudden pain. “That hurt like a bitch.I can’t be quiet right now!”

“So help me god, if you don’t shutyour hole I will kick you,” she hissed, her face suddenly very close tohis. Her breath caressed his face and Roy shivered at the thought of the two ofthem being pressed together in this cell -

Not the time, Roy!

He did as he was told and groanedquietly to himself, trying to limit the amount he was rocking back and forth asthe sharp pain turned to a dull ache.

“Okay, we’re good,” Hawkeye announcedquietly.

Roy gasped loudly, eyes popping open.“Oh my god, my head!”

“Okay, where are we?” Hawkeyeasked, ignoring him and looking around the very tight space. Roy shiftedso he could get more comfortable and he bumped into her, knocking theLieutenant off balance and she fell back and bumped her head against the wall.

“Really?” she exclaimed inirritation, her expression pained.

“Sorry! There’s not a lot of roomin here in case you hadn’t noticed,” Roy grumbled. “I’m trying to getcomfortable. I’ve got a bony ass.”

“Well you’re a pain in my ass andno amount of trying is going to get rid of you, so shut up and deal with it.” Roy frowned at her. She wasirritable today. "Let’s just figure this out, please, before anything elsegoes wrong.”

They spent about half an hourstrategizing. Roy had easily burned the rope of their wrists and ankles, sothey now sat cross legged facing each other, shoulder hunched and head at anodd angle to avoid hitting it against the ceiling.

There was no window to speak of in theroom, just a door that ran the height of the room. The walls were concrete allaround, the same with the ceiling and the floor. Roy was sure if the room wasupside down, he wouldn’t be able to tell which way was the correct way up.

“Through there?” Roy asked,pointing at a vent behind Riza. It would be tight - very tight - but hewas sure they’d be able to make it.

“Can you melt the metal so we canget through?”

She rolled her eyes at his cocky grinand just shuffled out of the way. “Can I melt the metal?” he muttered to himself,scoffing, as he moved towards it.

Two minutes later, they were through.

“Ladies first,” Hawkeyegestured, motioning for him to enter first. Roy huffed.

“Age before beauty,” hemuttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Hey, can you give me anudge?” Roy asked. His shoulders were almost through, but he’d need alittle push to get him all the way. The metal was already beginning to dig uncomfortablyinto his skin.

What he didn’t expect was Riza toforcefully shove him through the gap. By literally kicking his ass.

“A nudge! A nudge, not a karatekick!”

“Get moving, Mustang.”

“I can’t, I’m still stuck.”

“Come out then,” she sighed. “I’ll gofirst.”

Roy did as he was told, but an idea occurredto him and before the Lieutenant could move, he tried once more going feetfirst. He made it in no problem, which he was grateful for. Not that Roythought she would, but he didn’t need Hawkeye to shove him in by his head. Shefollowed suit and the pair were shimmying through the ventilation system. Theypassed by gratings and vents but saw no one. When they approached a ratherpromising looking door – one that screamed “exit” at them – they paused. Roycraned his neck to look at Hawkeye, who nodded. The space was tight, but theycould make it. Roy shuffled to allow her to go first, as she requested. Just asHawkeye was about to open the grate, she froze as she and Roy both begun tohear footsteps and muffled voices.

Roy’s head snapped up to hers, eyeswide as he realised that in this position, Hawkeye could be seen. He glanceddown and his stomach dropped when he realised there wasn’t enough room in the restof the vent by his feet for him to shuffle down. Moving back the way they’d comewould make too much noise. The metal they were lying on now was solid, whereasthe stuff they’d moved over before felt flimsy and every movement felt like agunshot. A rushed escape back up there would give their position away.

“Shit,” Roy stated, panicking.

“Move,” Hawkeye commanded.

“What?!”

“Move.”

Her legs were suddenly down by his sides, andwrapped around his torso, crushing his arms against his chest. There was astrong leg by his ear and in any other circumstance Roy would be loving this, however the mixture of fearand desire inside him made a very confusing cocktail of emotion.

The Lieutenant’s legs had a grip on him so tight hesqueaked.

“Lieutenant,” he choked outas her thighs begun to crush him. Roy supposed he deserved this. No, he knew hedid.

The grip on him tightened.

Little did Roy know it was to try andmake herself less conspicuous and was not some kind of punishment for him.

“Shh, they’re coming.”

“Jesus Christ, woman,” heexclaimed, pained. “You could crush a watermelon with those legs.”Again, they tightened on him.

“Don’t tempt me,” theLieutenant muttered. He could hear the edge in her voice.

“Riza -”

“Shut up,” she hissed as theyheard footsteps approaching. As Roy lay there, partially mortified, partiallyturned on, he thought about how his life had reached this point; lying in anair vent trying to escape from being kidnapped with the thighs of hisLieutenant gripping his upper arms and crushing him so they could both fit inthe space.

Lucky was one word he’d use. The other…Well, Riza had a very good grip on him.

The men had passed, and Hawkeye still hadn’t letgo.

“Lieutenant, you can let go now,” he whispered,pained.

She didn’t.

“Lieutenant. Lieutenant –”

“Shh.”

“Please open your legs.”

“Excuseme?”

“Hawkeye, please,” he gasped in pain.

“What –”

“You know what I mean! Open them. Move them. Spread your legs,“ he begged, not ashamed to do soanymore. "Be free!” he urged, pushing the vent open with all his might and the best he could in the situation.

“Do you really think you’re in anykind of situation to be making comments like that?”

“Riza!”

The pressure on him loosened suddenlyand he gasped in relief and pain.

“Oh, thank god,” he babbled.

“Shut up,” Riza barkedquietly. “Stop being such a baby.”

“My whole life flashed before myeyes.” Riza snorted. “I’ll admit that would’ve been a beautiful wayto go.” The Lieutenant exited the vent and didn’t appreciate his joke andif looks could kill Roy would’ve drop down dead in that instant.

“I will wrap you up in these legsagain if you continue to act like an idiot.”

“Noted.”

He shimmied out of the tight gap anddropped down into a white hallway. Taking stock, he noticed it was empty andthere was a corner not ten pages away from them.

“I thought you would’ve been veryused to getting yourself out of tight spaces like that, sir,” theLieutenant murmured as she continued to walk ahead, completely nonplussed byher comment. “I’m surprised you weren’t able to smooth talk or slide yourway out of my grip in there. It appears the rumours as false,” sheshrugged.

Riza rounded the corner, leaving Roystanding with his mouth hanging open in the hallway.

“Wait, what rumours?”

[m0onbean]

Can I please get a Wonwoo from Seventeen college AU (maybe he helps you study for exams), fluff please

ok but imagine wonwoo tutoring you.... 

when they say that college students are dead inside, they really are

because here we have you studying on your bed, papers literally everywhere, and some sad music in the background that really fits your mood

and when your roommate barges in your room and is like "(y/n) i can feel ur bad vibes from my room " ur just kinda like "yeah i just pulled two all-nighters and i have an exam tomorrow and i haven't eaten anything except for a gallon of coffee. how are u today, Karen. :)))))"

it's not like you're not smart,,, you're just hella stressed bc your professor doesn't teach that well and the material is rlly hard to understand

and your exam for your biochemistry class is TOMORROW nd no matter how much you try to understand enzymatic reactions u just can't fully comprehend it

the next morning u arrive in class with hella eyebags and u just sit in your seat and lay your head down on the desk

nd ur best friend & annoying seat partner Mingyu is like "wow Mood"

mingyu is not the sharpest tool in the shed but he's only taking the class to "explore his options" so honestly he just stopped trying

nd u just kinda face him and ur like "bro i honestly don't understand these past chapters and if i dont im gonna fail this class and im gonna have to retake it."

so mingyu pulls out his thinking face and he's like "hmmmm i know somebody who can tutor you" and you're like "Mingyu,,,,, i'm not going to let seungkwan tutor me Last time we met at the library and he was wearing a flower costume nd told me that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell"

and mingyu just,,,, well damn i can't help u then

so the tests are passed out and as expected, you didn't know a lot of the answers and had to use your common sense

after u turn your test in you leave the classroom with a real heavy heart nd it rlly do feel like you have no more hope

nd when you leave the room mingyu is waiting for you outside while talking to this guy

the guy was about the same height as mingyu but had darker hair and was wearing these round glasses. he was also wearing these dark skinny jeans and leather jacket and ur like Who is This Edgy Dude

when mingyu sees you he's like :D and he's like "shoo" to the Edgy guy and the guy just kinda gives u a blank look and walks away

and you're like who is that guy you were talking to? nd Mingyu immediately "uHHH don't even try (y/n) he is not interested in relationships"

u're just like "OK I WASN'T- nevermind." bc YES he's kinda cute but u need to worry about ur studies too

then suddenly mingyu face lights up like he got an idea and he's like "WAIT. WAIT. OH my god i'm such a genius wow-"

",,so r u going to share ur good idea" and mingyu's like

"I SHOULD HAVE WONWOO HELP YOU STUDY!!!"

and you're ?????????????????????????????????who?

without even answering your question mingyu just goes off and is like omg this is perfect oK wonwoo is actually hella smart and already took this class wow oh my god maybe a romance will bud from this-

next thing you know, you're waiting at the library with mingyu and you're just liKE are you Sure he's okay with tutoring me?? and mingyu's just like Okay i know he looks really edgy but he's smart

nd being the little doubtful bean u are u're just What If I'm too Dumb for Him????????? What If he gets frustrated with me????????????????? What if-

"do u want me to call seungkwan instead?"

"no. thisis perfect."

wonwoo arrives after a few minutes and u both introduce yourself and dang he's really good-looking up close

(in the back mingyu is staring at his two best friends proudly)

and mingyu just like... Ok, Gotta blast! and you and wonwoo are like WHAT

AND HE JUST KINDA RUNS OUT THE LIBRARY WHILE BUMPING INTO A BOOKSHELF ON THE WAY

so now it's just you and wonwoo at a study table nd he doesn't even hesitate and starts from Lesson 1 (even though you're on Lesson 5)

his voice is really deep and soothing nd he's kinda quiet and doesn't make a lot of jokes

basically he's an alternate version of mingyu

nd as wonwoo goes over the lessons u realize how much stuff you overlooked and how things that used to not make sense suddenly become so clear!!!!!!!

and you're like Oh My God!!!!!!!!! you're so smart wow

and u can see wonwoo's ears turn a lil' red at the compliment

and before you know it??? u're caught up to Lesson 3 already

even tho he's kinda quiet, u can tell that he's hella sophisticated and whenever u have questions he explains the answers in great detail

nd at the end of the tutor session, you both pack your bags and you're shyly like "can we meet tomorrow at the same time?"

wonwoo just gives u a small smile and nods ur head and ur like wow...... he's really cute

and so it just kinda goes like that

you two meet up everyday at the library and he helps you study

nd ur always worried bc like doesn't he need to study.. too??

whenever u try to ask him that he just brushes it off and insists he's fine

and after a couple weeks you start to know him better like even tho he seems rly cold and reserved on the inside he's actually just a lame ass beanpole that lpves puns

u'd be like "Ok so nucleic acids convey genetic information....." nd wonwoo would just "... nucleic ASSid"

like e??efaleihfal??? that doesn'T MAKE ANY SENSE WONWOO BUT  GO OFF I GUESS

sometimes u two can go offtrack and start talking about the possibility of dogs conquering the government

nd sometimes u see him on campus and u wave vigorously @ him

and wonwoo's cute lil' nose will scrunch up and ohmygod he's so adorable!!!

so as time passes a rlly huge exam comes up for your biochemistry class and you're AAAAAAAAAAAAAAASCREAMING

but!! wonwoo saves ur life bc he helps u with every single thing

nd for once? u feel really confident!

on the night before the exam u're like calling mingyu and ur like "wow... wonwoo is actually really helpful. he's the best thing u've given me honestly"

and mingyu would be all smug nd proud of himself like istg do not feed this boy's ego

then suddenly mingyu would be like "..... do you like wonwoo" and you ????????????????????????????? NO

*insert panic*

but you actually kind of do

nd the morning of ur exam u're all pumped up and in class mingyu is like actually jealous annoyed at how motivated u are

"mayb i should've kept wonwoo to myself.." he'd mutter

and guess what? u're pretty sure you aced your exam!!

so u exit the classroom not feeling dead for once and u see wonwoo waiting outside without mingyu which!! is a first

like u two barely talk outside of tutoring

nd ur like "waiting for mingyu?" and he turns to u with a kinda flustered expression and is like... actually i came to see you

and you're Oh...... but then you get really happy and you're like "WONWOO THANK YOU SO MUCH"

nd without thinking you just hug him rlly tightly and he's OOF but hugs u back

and when you let go he's blushing really hard and he's like "so did you do well on the test?" and ur like "yep i'm pretty sure... thanks to u"

and you two are smiling at eachother until you ask him to have lunch with you so now you're both walking off while holding hands happily

nd maybe... just maybe u had big feelings for his cute ass

and mingyu is watching you guys from a distance while smiling at himself bc WoW he really matched his two best friends together

[gawaine]

you've been given a chance to have a meal with 6 people. anyone can be invited, past or present, living or not, real or fictional, famous or otherwise. catch is you have to cook a meal for each of them, only one dish. you're allowed to have only 1 fictional character. you can keep 3 for the whole night till next morning, 3 will leave after eating the meal. And no language barrier. Who are those 6 ppl and what will be the dish?

Hmm, this is a really cool question (and excellent final act during my study break) (this got really long. You have so much more than you bargained for. Would place it under the cut but nah, I love these people and this q. Sorry for answering eons too late);

I’m assuming there’s no dietary requirements, so my amazing salmon salad is what I’m cooking. Plus, if they’re from the past, they could potentially do with the protein?

[... I answered this and then realised I was allowed fiction. Fuck.]

[... I have redrafted my reserve list several times. This q is taking me the best part of a half hour.]

[... Fuck. No. Changes to the main list must be made.]

Confirmed guests: Khadija bint Khuwaylid, Akbar the Great, Sansa Stark, Oscar Wilde, Oliver Saks and Hawraa Zakery.

Just dinner: Hawraa Zakery, Oscar Wilde, Oliver Saks.

[... I needed more females than in my original draft. Holding back the rant about the lack of representation of strong females in history and every career ever, as I had to Google these people bc I realised answering this how, even as I as a feminist, know of so little strong historical/written figures.]

Reserves who I’m going to get punched in the face by the universe for bumping; Ibn Sina, Rumi, Leonardo di Vinci, Cristina Yang.

If it were a dinner party, aka additional guests who would be invited before all the other invites (after the reserves) went out and my favourite funky glasses were allocated for (in order); Alexander the Great, Hades (+ Persephone, duh), Cleopatra, Captain Marvel, Rebecca Lee Crumpler.* 

[... FUCK I KEEP THINKING OF MORE PEOPLE.]

Super added bonus round because I’m an indecisive lil’ bitch: King Arthur and Merlin (knights and Lady of the Lake PLUS Morgana would be ideal, but that’s for like... the general list), Fa Mulan, Arya Stark, Ned Stark, the Muskeeters (plus D’Artagnan ofc).

* = I wanted to say Elizabeth Blackwell, but lbr, even as the first female surgeon, her experiences as a white woman would not be as relatable as Rebecca Lee Crumpler.

Who the fuck are these people and why are you inviting them to dinner, Hannah?HMMM SO GLAD YOU ASKED pls prep yourself for salty-ass additional comments (by order of priority) [... okay this is going under the cut bc I’ve been doing this for almost an hour and it’s long and cool ok];

Khadija bint Khuwaylid | Wife of Prophet Muhammad (SWAS), first female follower of Islam.Wealthy, educated divorcee who married a man a significant amount of years her junior in a sexist, ageist patriarchal world? Who was his first follower in what would later become the fastest growing, youngest and tbh probs most controversial religion in the modern world, whilst being a beloved spouse? I feel like she’d have some fucking useful insights to life tbh.Plus, it could never hurt to have a genuine, theological conversation regarding religion, philosophy and being a woman in the modern world (which, after some confusion, I feel like she’d still vibe with tbh) would be... Awesome.

Akbar the Great | Mughal Emperor at the height of its power.Initially first on my list. So many questions. So much advice. I’m also assuming my Dad would be invited and even if not - urgh, it’d be so cool. He was the Original Dude who, via basis of his marriages, formed ‘Desi’ South Asian (e.g large parts of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, etc) culture that has lasted to the modern day, whilst solidifying the Middle Eastern roots of the language and culture as well (e.g Persia - inc. surrounds in modern geography). He helped the expansion of Islam and was a figure of political enlightenment, encouraging acceptance in religious and racial diversity throughout his empire.I wanna know so much. I need to know so. Much. How did he feel about his family’s conversion to Islam? Their assimilation into a culture that, largely through his influence, created the mixing pot of cultures that exists as the Desi identity today? Bearing in mind the current political climate, does he regret that mix - because if that mix hadn’t started, there is an argument that more subtle divisions may have lessened the resentment and tensions between groups over hundreds of years of complicated history (not that that’s necessarily my view)?

Sansa Stark | fictional character from Game of ThronesShe has been through so much, she’s so smart, she’s so underrated and puts up with so much shit inside the GoT universe and outside, she is literally the embodiment of the ‘perfect’ 21st century young woman, with the difficulties attached to that included (though not from lack of abysmally poor characterisation from the male writers. Yes, all of them).Her over Arya because I feel Sansa more relatable and I feel she’d be a useful buffer at dinner and a delight to crack jokes w/ if things went South. Not Ned because idk if he’d walk in carrying his own head (how does this work?) and like... More females pls. She was literally the first female I thought of and now I can’t unsee it.

Oliver Saks | neurologist, authorI can’t believe all this time, I thought he was a brain surgeon and he’s not. What the fuck? But Henry Marsh would be potentially abrasive at dinner.I read my first Saks book at around 8; I then went out of my way to reference my own outdated, battered copy in my first neuro assignment at med school.All of the med talk. He was such a fantastic author and neurologist and did the most amazing research and I need all the career advice I can get.

Oscar Wilde | authorBecause I’m a fangirl and he wrote my favourite book. He’d also bring the fun to the party. And possibly the scandal, which is why I’d sit him near to Sansa.

Hawraa Zakery | human rights activist, mental health & psychology researcher, life coachI actually had to Google women to include and this one screams out at me. So much interesting, cool stuff.So much advice on looking after my messy ass self.

The others (who aren’t well known);

Rumi | famous poetI only chose Wilde out of loyalty to my favourite book, otherwise... Rumi. Famed poet, philosopher and academic. Yes pls. I’d also say Kabir, though Rumi influenced Shakespeare, so... Ya know.

Ibn Sina | ‘the father of early medicine’ aka Avicenna (but that’s not his nAME)Does this need justifying?

Rebecca Lee Crumpler | first female surgeon of colourSo many q’s. So much bowing.

Okay, I have to stop now because it’s an hour later and this was meant to be a fifteen minute revision break and that did not happen, did it?

[bnha-imagines-hcs]

Can I request the appearance and personality preferences with Aizawa and Hizashi?

| aizawa; headcanons.

appearance;

when it comes to appearance, he doesn’t really care - insofar as physical attraction isn’t necessary to him in a romantic relationship. there’s def stuff that gets him going, things he appreciates that can cause a stifled smoulder in his gut – but an s/o is there for love, in his book.

but, since we are here in the category ‘appearance’,..

it’s in details. the rounded curve of a shoulder as they twist to deal with an incoming punch; that split second when the little ‘v’ from shoulder to pectoral draws tight and ready, just before that sight is stolen as they move on – this readiness to deal with hardship. the solid shove of their back into rubble to keep it off a civilian; resolve and stubborn ability and compassion all in one.fingers carding through hair for it to be pulled out of their face, tied up or just flicked away. focus in the lines of an expression as they pick out what groceries that suit their dinner plans, or any plans at all. the way they make decisions and the way- oh, wait… that’s personality.

looks like aizawa’s more focussed on personality than appearance anyway, if it’s supposed to be attractive.

objectively, he can appreciate a fine pair of calves (fine-tuned by lots of running), or the long sweep of someone’s hair (not very practical, but if they’re able to deal with it then it’ll do). but he doesn’t really prefer anything.

except cats. cats are always good and loved unconditionally. i mean, you have to be a seriously vicious cat for aizawa not to love you.

but humans? ehh. literally why? what’s… the point of preferences… u got a face it’s for emoting and sensing and eating, it works doesn’t it?? u got limbs and if ur missing one you’re probably compensating for it with others, (if the loss troubles you, he’s willing to step in and help u find joy again bc dadzawa does that, albeit discreetly if at all possible). ur digestive system works right?? ur skeleton doin ok??? so it’s fine. ur fine. what more do u fuckin’ need, let this old man rest.

man, woman, anything between or around those. literally doesn’t matter, he doesn’t give two shits. how is that relevant?? is only relevant to u??? the finer labels of ur being aren’t for him cuz he doesn’t care abt labels, nor could he ever be as deeply involved in the hows and whats of u as u can be, ur just u??? cool cool move on.

personality;

spine. oh my god, absolutely spine. 

u can be a coward or a brave man, but at least be that because you have your own, characteristic principles that have you stand by yourself as you are.

some kind of code, certainly, a line drawn in the sand. there have to be things you wouldn’t stand for and would take action to deal with – though for the love of his sanity, don’t be stupid about it. 

he’s… going to need them to be somewhere in the Good alignment. he just - does. not. has no… just, dude. you don’t hurt people just because you have beef with something. solve your goddamn problems without making someone else suffer your pointlessly destructive immaturity.

of course some people don’t know they have better options; fair enough. if you’re willing, he’ll try to help you see and make use of those better options. but he’ll never stand by someone who hurts others for no good reason. never.

proactiveness is greatly appreciated and enjoyed.

aizawa loves when people are socially and emotionally competent (because he’s not), because it makes things go more smoothly. look at him and go ‘you’re not an asshole, you just don’t like to talk and have Strong Opinions’ and let him sleep.that said he can definitely develop a strong attraction to someone as ‘no.’ as he is.

protectiveness and compassion. you don’t have to be a hero or go as far as he does, but he needs someone who understands his deep-seated need to nurture and protect. interesting convos can be had with ppl who feel differently, but he wants understanding in his rom relationships.

wants to just be able to sit and cuddle (cat is not optional cat is Needed), and just. stare out into the distance for a while without letting the world be as much of a bother. 

mutual comfort and compassion, support, respect, and a lot of room for all involved personalities.the mutual part is highkey, because as much as aizawa has like. the dregs of energy lmao – he is all about that nurturing life. he can’t be in a relationship with someone he’s not allowed to care about actively. if you don’t want a mutually supportive and strong bond that goes ‘yeah you’re at your worst now, that’s okay. i’m gonna be at my worst like next week’s wednesday prob lmao’, then aizawa doesn’t want you.

| hizashi; headcanons.

appearance;

he absolutely does love prettiness, but it doesn’t… draw him in. he thought for the longest time that his type was long legs, short skirts, sweet lips – then aizawa grew into his stubble and oh jesus fuck-

i’m not sure hizashi is into ladies at all on levels other than platonic and aesthetic, but he doesn’t consider it ever so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who needs labels anyway.

he likes ‘em edgy. good lord let’s be real - hizashi loves dat edge. scruffiness, angular, dark hair, dark clothes, the contrast between pale skin and dark hair, some kinda non-conformist hairdo ( which, for dudes, can be as simple as long ).executive goth? punkgoth? casual goth?

he doesn’t really enjoy make-up. just nah. he likes to know what he’s looking at, likes to know if he reached out there’d be naked skin under his fingertips…

it’s nice if they shorter than him - taller people are giants, have u seen hizashi himself - but the best is equal height cuz then you can just face boop.yes, face boop. just - put ur face straight up against theirs. boop~!

ehrem.

long hair, idle fingers, twirly fabric, a surplus of buttons - anything for him to fidget or stim with is a definite plus.

defined calves are…… attractive….. thicc thighs make him the good kind of concerned for his well-being. he likes the places where bone shows - knees, elbows, knuckles, the bump on your wrist. it’s just very pretty to him and he loves tracing these edges over and over ehrem stimming ehrem.

are u fat? chubby? skinny? somewhere in between? good shit.

personality;

huggy. it’s okay if you’re just the kind to let him hug u, but at least in private he needs dat good ol’fashioned physical affection. huggy. much an’ many huggies.

caring, loving, nurturing. he adores gestures of affection, the more unabashed the better. although that’s mostly bc people’s discomfort makes him unhappy.

domestic. please. he’s a domestic kinda guy lookin’ for a domestic kinda life -- hero work is hectic enough, thanks. the simple old fashioned pleasures of coming home to make yourself a hot drink and sink into that seat you’ve worn a dent into. ready, silent hugs. fingers through hair. the absent petting here and there while ur deep in a book or tv show or thesis.just warm, reliable love.

hizashi is the absolute last person to care for a fling or skinny love. he prefers to have sex with sex workers or friends and foregoes hook-ups with strangers. here too it’s cameraderie, friendship - warm, reliable love.

please love his friends. they’re all one big happy family and he’s dying to include you; it’s cool if you don’t get along!! ...sad, but chill. not everyone clicks.still, though. he does need someone who’d be willing to make an effort.

he... loves.. sexiness. basically this means you’re comfortable propositioning him - not that you’re not/never shy! - that you enjoy chatting about sex and just. have a good ol’ time with it. this again bc ppl’s discomfort = sad hizashi, but also bc he just fucking loves sex. it’s nice! it’s fun! it’s a cute topic and way to get to know each other.

[gibzy]

heyyy I just realized like a billion of yall have been liking/reblogging that really bad kam fanfic i wrote like pre-quarantine so i’m just gonna put one of my more recent writing thingies under the cut if you want to read something with actual flow and descriptions qwq

so! you decided to read this, thank you! it’s a short story I wrote in like two days this week bc my english teacher gave me an opportunity to write fiction and obviously I was frothing at the mouth to write anything other than an essay. so. we had to write a hero vs monster story, which is pretty vague, so I had some alien eldritch fun with it. enjoy!

-----

Evelyn prefers the dark.

It’s not anything important, really— just a liking for the serene embrace of a quiet night. Things are bright too often, she often thinks, in this overwhelming world of fluorescent office lights and LCD screens. Intensity is not something she has ever been good at dealing with, so when the opportunity to just exist in a low-lit space presents itself, she takes it.

Which is exactly why she’s biking down the street at two in the morning.

The wind rushes through her lungs as she eases off the pedals down a hill, cold and bracing in the moonless winter night— or day, technically, but the distant flicker of headlights on the top of an overpass being the only thing close to celestial radiance for a long while, it’s close enough. Her hair whispers against the tops of her ears in the breeze, the sound not unlike tussocks of dry grass brushing against each other. She sighs. Her hair looks like dry grass, too, actually, if it was colored violet by a woefully inexperienced hand. 

More thoughts weave their way through her mind generally akin to that one; pointless, but more positive. Grounding thoughts. She’s too tall for this bike now, but it’s still fun. Her eyes are light grey— maybe that’s why she’s so sensitive to light. The road is smooth and easy to ride; must be recently paved.

She’s trying not to think too much about where she’s going or why she’s going there, lest the anxiety seize her heart again. It pumps with blood now, and not pain, and that’s how she intends to keep it for as long as possible. 

Trees lining the road wind just as much as it does, twisting and knotting in an organic symposium of leafless branches. They’re barely visible against the sky, a charcoal-gray to its inky azure. A gentle susurrus of cicadas and frogs drones quietly on, accompanied by the ambient clicking of Evelyn’s bicycle spokes. It’s not any warmer at the bottom of the hill, shielded by vegetation, even bundled in a sweatshirt and jacket. She shivers. She’s not sure if it’s from the cold or the slowly growing trepidation.

She can feel it stirring. Predictable, sure, but unsettling nonetheless. It sparks as she rounds the familiar bend, an entropic, feral sizzle of energy and panic. Good, she tells herself. Good, this is supposed to happen. But even so, her fingers tighten around the handlebars. 

The road grows rougher and rougher until it cracks into glorified gravel, a confluence of pebbles and weeds. She squeezes the brakes as the bike begins to bump across the sharp stones and hops off. The rocks peter off into the woods. 

There’s a moment where she just stands there, frozen. Does she go? Can she go?

But she shakes her head— of course she can. She came all this way to get here, and there’s no way she’s going back without resolving at least a little of whatever this is. She flips down the kickstand of her bike, and with a fortifying breath, she sets off into the thicket.

It’s an odd place, really.  Used to be a townhouse development, decades ago, abandoned for no reason other than the fact that there were other, better places to live. Nature had reclaimed it years before Evelyn had ever discovered it, and yet everything there was and is eerily stagnant. No animals rustle in the underbrush. No bugs buzz through the air. The only trees, though tall, are all in various stages of decay, so she supposes it’s rather vibrantly alive, but it's a different energy than she’s used to. She moves slowly. Ducking under branches, stepping over the occasional touch-tone telephone, and squinting through the darkness for the clearing that lays beyond. A flashlight would be very useful at this point. She brought her phone for that purpose, actually, but it feels wrong for her to use it now. Like it would summon the thing too soon. 

So she trudges on, her heart pounding in her chest. It’s calm here, but the mere anticipation of it thrums in her blood. There’s no shoving the thoughts down now, with such a material reminder surrounding her. She grits her teeth as another gelid blast of wind whips past her, and begins to try to organize everything scrambling around her head.

Okay. One: it calls itself Consterlevus. A fairly egotistical name, if you ask Evelyn— anything that purposefully puts latin roots in its name just to sound important is annoying on principle. 

Her foot plunges through a soft, rotting log, and her pulse spikes again. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Two: she doesn’t call it a monster. She did, at first, but she learned quickly that ascribing such universally known characteristics made it even more confident, which she learned even faster was very, very bad for her.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. Not now. Not now.

Three: it’s probably easiest to kill it physically. She can hurt it, and she has, many a time, but it just slinks back to the burning place in her heart where it likes to fester. She needs to defeat it quickly, before it can retreat. A switchblade weighs heavily in her pocket. A last resort, to be sure. She’s not looking for a dangerous confrontation, but when it comes to that— if it comes to that, she corrects, looking for at least a shred of hope— she’s prepared.

At last, she can see the glade. It seems illuminated, somehow, despite the new moon, but when she blinks, it’s dark once more. She jogs towards it, nervous impatience vibrating through her skull like a plucked chord.

It’s exactly as she remembered it. A small field of unkempt grass and weeds, surrounding a pond, dotted with small water lilies. She hasn’t been here in years— three? Four? And yet it’s completely undisturbed. She laughs to herself. Of course. Consterlevus can’t handle anything less than perfection.

She hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to do. It had kind of been a spur-of-the-moment, last straw sort of decision to come here, The thing has a flair for the dramatic, though, so she spreads her arms and calls up to the sky. “Well? You’re always around, where are you now?” 

There’s no response other than another spark of energy in her heart. She rolls her eyes. “I know you’re here. It’s no mystery that you’re the one making me all, y’know,” she says, pointing at her chest, “panicky.”

A resonating grumble fills her mind. The voice seems split in two, speaking the same words in different tones. One, a shrill, tremulous warble, and the other a deep, jarring rasp, like a coyote with bronchitis. She had found it horrifying at first, an unnatural harmony of something utterly alien to this world, but now it was just irritating.

From her chest, a sinuous, winding light spills onto the ground, sinking into the tangle of untended, shin-high weeds. It slithers through them, sending harsh shadows beyond the reach of its blinding corona. It draws the reflections it creates on the water into itself, swelling and shuddering until it coils itself into an identifiable shape. Its body is lithe and quadrupedal, resembling a panther. Its head, long and rounded, bears the visage of a snake, and when it opens its mouth to hiss, it reveals the  sickle-like fangs of a lion. But the most disturbing thing about the creature is its eyes— or lack thereof. 

Though the entire being is made of intense, writhing light, upon its forehead is a tight spiral of absolute darkness; the kind of darkness only achieved in the far reaches of space. It is massive, dominating the majority of the clearing. She squints, eyes watering as it draws itself to its full height. When it opens its mouth to speak, viscous, pearlescent saliva drips from its jaws, rippling on the surface of the pond like gasoline in a parking lot puddle. “You think you may simply summon me at your whim, mere mortal? I have knowledge of realms far beyond your own, power you could never fathom, thoughts—”

“Aw, no hello, Connie?” 

It snarls. “My name is Consterlevus, and you will address me as such, you insolent human!”

She crosses her arms, trying to shove away the pounding distress that grips her heart like a vise. Eldritch entities are nothing too bad. She’s familiar with this one, who has been her unwanted companion for years. Ever since she visited this place, it’s been a parasite in her brain, amplifying the existing anxiety in her head. Terrifying, at first, but she’s exhausted after so many failures at banishing it. And she doesn’t think straight when she’s tired. This thing could literally be eating dimensions if it wasn’t trapped on Earth, powers tamped down by the planet’s very nature.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind. Focus. “Right. Anyway, you need to pay your rent. It’s, like, really overdue.”

It lowers its neck, bringing its face— if you can call it that— closer to her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your rent. You’ve been living in my brain or heart or something for at least three years, and all you’ve done is severely worsen my anxiety disorder and convince at least one person that I have schizophrenia. I’ve been a very lenient landlord.”

It makes a piercing rasp she supposes could be interpreted as a scoff. “Are you attempting to jest at your predicament, human? Many have borne my curse before, and none have survived.”

She sighs. “Look, dude, it was a really lame metaphor, I get it. I’m just lowkey a little freaked out.”

It puffs out its chest, raising its head towards the sky. “Of course you are. My abilities known no bounds. My presence permeates your very soul. My—”

“Okay, okay! I get it, you’re an unfathomable cosmic entity beyond my most vivid nightmares or whatever. Now, if you’re not gonna stop whatever you’re doing with my brain, I’m gonna have to kick you out myself.”

It cocks its head, claws extending as it flexes its paws. “Was that a threat?”

She exhales loudly, exasperated. “Duh! I came all the way to the place where I had the absolute pleasure of making your acquaintance with a knife and an ultimatum. I’ve been way too passive all this time, and I can’t stand it a second longer. So what’ll it be?”

Consterlevus bears its teeth. “You are passive. You never tell anyone your opinion, do you? You let it fester in your mind, and then you tear yourself apart for being such a coward. Sure, they all think you are nice, but you never express any real emotion.” It swells, its neck curving down and around her neck, searing her skin. “But it is all worth it, is it not? Being so worried about what other people think. It matters, it really does, in this world. You may hate yourself for it, but you’ll succeed.”

“No!” The cold air condenses her breath into a warm mist, billowing from her mouth like the smoke of a dragon. “That’s not true. I can be nice to people without sacrificing my own needs! The fact that you convinced me otherwise is your fault, not mine, and I’m done blaming myself for everything. I feel detached from everyone because I’m not sincere with them! Not everyone will like me, and that’s okay, because it’s more important to be myself!”

Consterlevus sloughs off her shoulders, neck limp as it slithers back towards its body, a wholly unsettling movement. It shrinks in size, now about even in height with Evelyn. “You cannot possibly think that is true,” it hisses. “Everyone preaches acceptance and love, but few uphold it.”

“Well screw all of the people who don’t! I don’t need their approval; I can be happy with the people that are actually decent human beings!”

It growls, slinking closer. “No, no, do not delude yourself with these lies—”

She draws the switchblade, driving it fervently into the center of the spiral upon its forehead. “They are true! They have taken me years to figure out, but they are true. You have infested this planet long enough, Consterlevus. Be gone!”

It shrieks, a piercing sound that sends ripples through the water. It dissipates into shards of light, flickering like embers of cold white fire until it eventually disappears. 

The panic in her heart fades, and she lets out a sob of relief, falling to her knees. It’s over. It’s gone.

She hugs herself, smiling through the tears, and as she looks up at the jet-black sky, she knows that now she can truly direct her own independence— truly accept its serenity.

[onesp1cyboi]

ahem ok i said 10 notes but i actually rly like my writing so chapter 1 of my book (”Parasite” altho thts a working title tbh)

little bit of background, i’m calling it an anti-romance rn tbh bc it takes romance tropes and then goes “fuck u” n is basically a call out for abusive actions tht rnt always seen as abusive ft. flower meanings, magic and stuff

um also it’s based in shanghai, which is where i grew up, so. if any references go over people’s heads, pls pls pLS dont hesitate to ask about them!! i’ll edit those in later if needed, and i’m 110% open to any criticism

Most people describe it as falling. I more or less walked backwards into it.

In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s this glorified train wreck of emotions known as love. Oh Chris, you might be thinking, don’t be so cynical about it! To which my only reply is: wait and see! I think my general feelings toward romance are totally understandable.

It started at the beginning of the summer holidays. XinTianDi was packed with people from all over, tourists and locals alike swarming in and out of malls, onto small side streets and tight alleys. It all brushed past me, sitting at a small table a few textbooks strewn around me, half-filled cup of coffee balanced on the opened pages of an outdated science book, an empty plate decorated with cake crumbs lying haphazardly on top of my half-open pencil case.

I wasn’t studying. I told my mom I would when I left my apartment (dad was already at work), although she wouldn’t have cared if I told her I’d gone out to drink myself half to death and run away to some exotic land halfway across the planet. I don’t know why I bothered to lie to her, considering she didn’t care for anything I said anyways. She’d probably appreciate it if I did run away from home, because that would mean one less mouth to feed, and an extra room in the apartment she could convert into something new.

Mom always liked new things.

I sighed, picking up my cold cup of coffee and knocking it back, letting the gritty contents slither down my throat to an uncomfortable stop in my stomach. I put the cheap porcelain cup back on its tiny useless plate, gathering up my books. It was the summer holidays, I had better things to do than pretending to be productive.

I fished my phone out of my pocket, checking for texts. Nothing. I didn’t let it disappoint me; most of my friends had gone overseas for the holidays, to timezones totally out of sync with my own. The few friends who were also stuck in Shanghai for the summer break tended to sleep in past lunch as well. I was alone until noon.

Stuffing my backpack with my books, I stood up slowly, letting my legs stretch out. It was only 10 in the morning, but I’d been sitting in the coffee shop forcing bitter caffeine down my throat for the better part of 3 hours. I swung around, stepping into the foot traffic surging around the soft oases of the restaurants and cafes dotted here and there throughout the entire downtown area. I remembered the first time I’d gone out without my parents or friends, the crowd had thrown me this way and that, forcing me in and out of the tide of people. Now, however, I was able to stick to the border, never touching or interacting with anyone else, besides a few bumps against my shoulders. My friends told me it was because I tended to look like I was on the warpath when walking alone, brows narrowed in a threatening glare, lips curled up in a near permanent scowl. I always thought it was a good thing.

I broke out of the stream near the entrances to one of the malls, joining the slow and steady trickle of people coming in and out of it, marching up the stairs. I didn’t look up, staring at my feet, glare heavy. Step after step, slow and tortured. I was tired. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t know where I wanted to go.

A cold rush of wind blew over me as I stepped through the glass doors into the mall. I untied my hoodie, blood red, from around my waist, pulling it on as I walked, pointlessly, aimlessly. I felt like it too; pointless and aimless. I was tired. It wasn’t unusual for me to feel awful when I was like this. I found myself making my way out of the back of the mall, feet stomping hard against the ground, the shock almost painful through the soft soled sneakers I was wearing.

I came back outside, flipping my hood up to hide my face, slinging my backpack in front of me. I took off into a smaller alley, unzipping the small pocket in front of my bag and curling my fingers around that sleek cardboard box of self-destructive relaxation. I breathed out a sigh through my lips, allowing myself a small, quirked smile as I opened the box, hidden safely in the space between two buildings. I leaned against the wall, sliding a cigarette between my lips, pulling my lighter out of the box and lighting the cancer stick quickly.

I didn’t do this often, but the feeling of smoke in my lungs was comforting, warm. I breathed out, watching the smoke fly into the air in front of me like a thin, grey ghost, a vision of my own soul flitting into the wind, fading into nothingness.

I took another drag.

The end of the cigarette glowed a soft orange. For a second, I was tempted to snuff it out into my skin, but the moment passed, another ghost lost in the wind, and I filled my lungs with smoke again.

I moved to step out of the shade of the buildings, out onto the streets again, when I spotted her. She was chattering in quick Chinese to the vendor of a small street side flower shop, a bouquet of roses in one pale, soft hand. She wasn’t small, probably about my height, but the way she held herself made her seem placid. It was weird compared to the way she spoke, confident and sharp. The shopkeeper looked amused, his attempts at bargaining with her more playful than anything. My eyes flitted quickly across her body, from the way her dark, nearly black hair hung over her round shoulders to her to the narrow curve of her waist. She was wearing a pastel blue summer dress, a tan bag hanging off her shoulder matching the roman sandals on her feet. There were flowers printed on her dress, the impression of roses in pink and yellow floating over the fabric.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, turning her head to the side, and my breath caught in my throat. Like me, she was an expat, but she looked mixed, maybe part Chinese? Her narrow eyes were dark, but warm, inviting. Her cheeks were dusted a light pink, lips painted glossy red. I felt my own cheeks darken as she turned away to face the vendor, the cigarette between my fingers all but forgotten, the light on the end already expired.

She was beautiful.

I turned away, determined to hide in the alley again, but then again…

It was summer. Summer meant change, adventure, something different and new. Maybe this could be a change for me.

I crossed the street.

She didn’t notice me, still arguing with the flower vendor, but I figured I’d try. I dropped my cig onto the pavement, kicking it subtly into the road. I wished my breath didn’t smell of smoke, either, but maybe she’d overlook it.

The vendor noticed me. He quickly turned away from her, trying to speak in slow, broken English.

“Buy flower?” he asked, English accented and barely understandable. I nodded.

“I’ll buy her the roses if the price is really that…” I started to reply in Chinese, pausing to glance over at the girl. She was giving me a flat, unimpressed glare, nose puckering as the smell of the smoke flew over her. I turned away quickly. “Difficult.”

The vendor beamed, nodding ecstatically. “Very difficult! Women, you know.”

“Excuse me? These flowers are incredibly overpriced,” she spat out, shaking her head. Well. My entrance obviously wasn’t as good as I’d hoped it would be.

“How much is he selling them for?” I asked, in English this time. She sighed, running her fingers through her long, thick hair, slightly wavy, curled around her face like a picture frame.

“Too much. I’m not paying 120 yuan for a couple of flowers off the side of the road,” she replied. “And I don’t need you buying them for me either.”

I huffed a slight laugh, scratching at the back of my head. Well. Guess I should’ve expected that. “Sorry, I guess?”

She smiled at me, sighing in what seemed to be frustrated adoration. “You really wanna pay for them?”

“Uh,” I muttered. 120 yuan. For a girl I’d never met before. Christ. “Sure? But, can I know your name? Since I’m gonna be buying flowers for you and all.”

“Wynona Lynn,” she replied. “You?”

“Chris.”

“Just Chris?”

“Christopher?” I answered, shrugging.

“Last name, stupid.” Ouch. She obviously didn’t like me.

“Lee.”

“Was that so hard?” she quipped with a smirk, grinning at me. The vender coughed, giving the two of us a pointed look. I pulled the 120 out of my wallet, handing it over in defeat. The girl, Wynona, smiled at me.

“Thanks for the flowers,” she said, fingers wrapping around the stem of one, gently tugging it out of the arrangement. She held it out to me. I took it from her, the thorns digging into my fingers when I wrapped them around it. I didn’t wince.

“Thanks?” I muttered, confused.

“I should buy you lunch,” she remarked. “You free today?”

“Is this a date?” I shot back, not wanting to be one-upped by some random girl I just met.

“If you want it to be.” She punctuated it with a wink. I felt my cheeks grow warm, fingers tightening around the stem of the rose.

“Uh…” Shoot. I couldn’t think straight. “Ok?”

“Date then?”

“Please?” I winced at the high, desperate pitch of my voice. Thanks a lot, puberty. She probably felt sorry for me. I couldn’t imagine what else she’d find attractive about me; I wasn’t tall, or handsome. Maybe she thought I was cute, in a kind of pathetic way. That had to be it.

She hummed, smiling at me. “Meet me at Starbucks at 12, then?” she asked. “I gotta go home and drop these off, so I can’t stick around for now.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” I stuttered. Ugh. Her smile made my brain stop working. It was frustrating. “Starbucks. Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“See you,” she said. She sounded like she was trying not to laugh. I couldn’t blame her. I’d laugh at me too. She turned away from me, beginning to walk away, but paused. “Oh, and one more thing,” she started, turning to face me again. She walked up to me quickly and pressed a kiss against my cheek, before taking off again, blending quickly in with the crowd. My hand moved up to my cheek, fingers brushing over where she kissed me. The vendor wolf-whistled, cackling. I stared after her, even when her flower print dress vanished from sight.

~*~

I hunched over in my seat, letting my phone drop into my lap. I’d sat back down in Starbucks, forking over more of my money to fuel my growing caffeine addiction and the power-hungry capitalist society that caused it. I took another sip of my quickly cooling cappuccino, tongue already sensitive from the first burning taste I’d had of it. The rose Wynona had given me was lying on the table in front of me, bright red petals looking out of place against the dusty, dirty green-tinged grain of the table I was sat at. The dark stem was still brighter and more alive that the wooden table it was lying on, green leaves shuddering in the slight wind offered by the whirring fans above me.

My phone buzzed in my lap, snapping me out of my daze. I picked it up, glancing at the message.

bae😩 💦  said: have fun!!~~ <33

Jerk.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly. I glanced up quickly, catching a glimpse of her pale face before her dark hair covered it again and she breezed in front of me, sliding into the seat across from me.

“Did I keep you waiting?” she asked, smiling. I could feel my cheeks heating again, the dimples at the corners of her lips causing me to feel things I never thought possible.

“Uh, no. Nah. I had nothing to do anyways, so. No.” I smiled at the end, awkward and too wide, but I wasn’t really sure what else to do. She grinned.

“You’re such a dork,” she laughed. “Ok! C’mon, there’s no way I’d take you on a date to Starbucks. I’m not a cheapskate.”

“Wow, we’re going on a proper date?”

“It’s only because I’m craving good food. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late.”

She snorted, reaching over the table to grab my arm. “Are we going then?”

I knocked back my coffee as I stood. It still burned a little going down, and I choked on it as it went, but we were already out of the cafe, despite my spluttered attempts to tell her to slow down. I chucked my coffee cup in a bin as we ran, shoving my phone back in my pocket and attempting to make sure I had all my stuff on me.

We slowed down in front of a large shopping mall, Wynona’s cheeks a little pink with exertion. She was panting lightly, breaths passing in bursts through her plump red lips, quirked at the ends in a sly little smile.

“Why did we run?” I huffed, doubled over and clutching my stomach. I was pathetically horrible at sports. My everything was aching from the mild bit of exercise, and I was starting to hate my decision of going on a date with Wynona.

“Why not?” she replied. I realized she was holding the rose she gifted me, twirling it between her fingers. She seemed to be whispering something to it, pressing a quick kiss against the petals. The red of her lips matched the red of the flower, and she looked like she was glowing when she turned back around to face me. I straightened, standing up stiffly in front of her, trying not to let it bother me that she was almost taller than me. She tucked the flower behind my ear, brushing my hair away with her hand. My face felt hot again.

“If you keep blushing like that, the rose’ll match your face like it matches your hoodie,” she quipped. I scowled, reaching up to take the flower out of my hair. She batted my hand away, grinning. “I’m kidding! You look cute with it, ok? Just keep it there.”

“Thanks. Really wanted to look cute today,” I grumbled, pouting. She pinched my cheek.

“Keep pouting like that and you will,” she replied. I sighed, shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. I forced a smile, trying as hard as possible to make it look uncomfortable. She rolled her eyes. “Perfect.”

She led me to a small restaurant, one of Shanghai’s many attempts at being trendy, with rustic wooden furniture and dark but warm lighting. She looked like she belonged there, under the gentle glow. She led me inside, guiding me to a secluded seat in a brighter corner of the room. The dark felt a little claustrophobic for me, but I didn’t want to say anything, seated here across from her, watching the yellow light bring a strange glow to her eyes, exposing freckles and lines of gold that were shot through the brown.

“You’re pretty,” I mumbled, staring into her eyes. She blushed, coughing lightly, hands immediately shooting to her lap as she searched for something to toy around with, avoiding my gaze. I smirked, leaning back. “You’re prettier when you blush.” She kicked me under the table.

She opened her mouth to say something back when the waitress came over, asking us if we were ready to order drinks in slightly accented English, handing us menus. Wynona glared at me, taking one of the menus and quickly flipping it open. She scanned the drinks quickly while I ordered a soda, settling on a rose tea.

“Rose tea?” I commented.

“I like flowers,” she replied, smiling.

“Evidently.”

She hummed in response, shutting her eyes as her ankles tapped lightly against mine. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you like?”

“Oh.” I shrugged, thinking about it. “Music, maybe?”

“Music, maybe. That sounds like a fascinating interest. You’ve really got me on the edge of my seat here.”

“Shut up, ok. I just. Never thought about it before, I guess. I like reading? And music.”

“You play any instruments?”

“Piano and guitar. I’d love to learn drums but my mom would never let me. At least with piano and guitar she can have me play songs at whatever get-togethers she’s having with her friends without me being a pain in the backside or anything.”

She was staring at me.

“Uh. Um. Sorry,” I stuttered. “I tend to ramble.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s cute,” she giggled, reaching over to snatch at my fingers. “You know, you could go on,” she mumbled, playing with my fingers.

“Uh. What? About music?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh. Uh. I sing sometimes? I used to write songs and stuff, but I guess I don’t really have time anymore, and I never really liked the songs I was writing either.”

“Why not?” she asked, lacing her own fingers through mine, glancing up at me. She looked genuinely interested.

“The lyrics never sounded right. I always felt like I was faking it, like I was being fake deep, and it never really reflected the points I actually wanted to get across. Like, sometimes I wrote love songs? But they just had cliched metaphors and were never really personal to the people I was writing them about.”

She looked surprised. “You’ve dated before?”

“Uh, yes? Should I… not have?”

“You struck me as a sweet innocent bean, new to the ideas of dating and relationships,” she quipped, pulling her hands away from mine to clasp them at her chest, cocking her head and sighing. “You would be my conquest, and I would show you how relationships work, and we could become the power couple of the century. You’d be the Anthony to my Cleopatra.”

“What.” I’ll admit, I was offended. “I’ve dated before! I didn’t walk up to you and start flirting without any idea of how to flirt at all.”

“A kid can know how to flirt without actually having flirted with someone. You ever watched movies?”

“I hate movies.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Really? Wow, never knew I was getting with Holden Caulfield reincarnate.”

I scoffed. “Rude. I’m way cooler than Holden Caulfield.”

“I’m surprised you picked up on that reference.”

“I’m surprised you made it.”

She blinked in surprise before grinning. “I had to read it for school.”

My face fell. “It’s one of my favorite books.”

“I knew you were a nerd! I knew it!”

“I already told you I like reading,” I retorted. “And I play piano. Of course I’m a nerd.”

Wynona was laughing, her hands reaching for mine again. She laced her fingers with mine, eyes squinted shut, wrinkling at the edges, her nose scrunched as her lips parted to let a small sound fall out. My heart melted.

“You’re really pretty. Please stop. It’s rude.”

She huffed, still laughing.

“It makes you flustered, so no,” she replied, grinning. She reached over to me with her free hand, snatching the flower from behind my ear. I’d forgotten it was there. “You know what roses symbolize?”

“Oh no, you’re one of those people who speaks ‘flower.’”

“Red roses symbolize love and passion, but in a bouquet the meaning can change. One rose means love, 12 shows gratitude, 50 shows unconditional love.”

“50? Who the hell is buying 50 roses?”

“Romantic couples.”

“Oh.” I paused for a second. “Wait a second, you gave me one rose-”

“I don’t love you. We just met, that would be ridiculous.”

“Uh-huh.” I cocked an eyebrow at her, fighting down the blush that was threatening to bloom across my cheeks.

“I would’ve given you an iris or something, it’s more appropriate, but I didn’t want to buy you a flower out of nowhere when you wouldn’t understand it,” she sighed, propping her head on the hand with the flower, the rose hanging limply out between her fingers.  

“What does an iris mean?”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, smiling at me. “I mean, since you payed for my roses and all.”

“Heh, yeah.” An awkward kind of silence built between us, Wynona still playing with my fingers. The waitress came over, placing our drinks in front of us. Wynona shifted, sitting up again, her hand leaving mine, the rose dropped onto the table. She picked up her cup instead, blowing lightly over the steam wafting off the rosey pink drink, her lips resting on the edge of the cup.

For a second, I wished I had a camera. I wasn’t much of an artist, but she looked beautiful. She smirked at me, and I knew I was blushing, but at that moment, I didn’t care.