#i throw some cursed meme drawing out and then i hide for the next three months

[thattrashdude]

A modern love story….

[hewwocopter]

Bros. Here’s a little taste of what I write when I’m not writing fanfiction, but rather my own original works. I wrote this at the end of 2019, so my writing is bound to be different than it is now, but I think you guys will get a kick out of it!

Also, all my two brain cells are spent on writing fanfiction.

Two McFricking Idiots

Sam and Cheyenne go to the mall.

Sam was bored.

Scratch that, he was extremely bored. Sam isn’t sure that he’s ever felt this bored before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.

Like that one time he nailed Chicky in the face with a pie? Sure she nearly beat the crap out of him but it was totally worth her reaction. He’d pay to see her get hit in the face again.

Preferably with him ten miles away when that happens of course...

Sam groaned and flopped onto his back, staring up at the sky. He was in a park under a tree, laying in the grass. Cheyenne was sitting next to him staring into space (he could tell she was just as bored as he was). It was mostly void of people as it was too hot for anyone to spend their spare time sweating all over the grass.

Unless they were total idiots.

Which that description fit Sam and Chey perfectly.

Which was why they were here.

Actually, the main reason they were starting to form into puddles of fur and flesh was because Chicky had kicked them out of the house. Apparently, she couldn’t handle a little prank! Who cares if the house was on fire, they could just get another!

Chey looked over at him. “First time?”

“If you don’t stop making meme references I will be forced to skin you alive.”

The cat stopped and stared at him. “But you love meme references, man.”

Sam groaned. “Not if it’s a hundred degree weather and I’m too hot to care about anything right now!” He threw his arms up in the air and let them fall to the ground in defeat. “There’s gotta be something we can do about this.”

”Well, we can either take our fur off which would be incredibly painful, or we can go back to the h-e-double-hockey-sticks which is our house. Which is in flames right now.” She stopped and flicked her ear up. “I can still hear the sirens from the fire trucks, actually.”

Sam snorted. “And my mixtape.”

Chey let out a laugh. “Heyyy! There we go! You’re getting back into the meme spirit already! Although that meme has been dead for like, a year man.”

“Nyehhh. I’m too hot to care.” Sam rolled back onto his stomach, muffling his words into the grass.

There wasn’t much to say after that, so the two sat in silence. An occasional breeze blew into their sweat matted fur, which was blissful for Sam.

After a few minutes, Sam shot straight back up, startling Chey.

“We have to do something!”

“You said that five minutes ago.”

“This time it’s for real. I’m getting sick and tired of this heat,” He stood up, legs tingly from sitting down for so long. “I’m going to get some daggone AC.”

Chey hummed, as though entertaining his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound too bad, actually... where would we go, though?”

Sam smiled, looking down at her. “The store. They’ve got some ice cream and stuff there, duh.”

“That’s a fantastic idea and all, but weren’t we banned from all stores within a twenty mile radius of our house?”

“...”

“...”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about....”

A deadpan look. “You were going around the fish section at the grocery, dumping out the fish tanks yelling ‘BE FREE, MY FISH CHILDREN! BE FREE!’”

“I was releasing them from their captivity! And you’re not so innocent either! You were there with me, helping me dump out the tanks!”

“Hey! I’m not about to deny a free snack when I see one!”

“...Fair.”

Chey huffed. “Aight. Good thing we came to an agreement.”

“...Uh huh.”

More silence.

“Remember that one time at Taco Bell where we harassed the employees?”

“Wait, which time? There was that one where you pelted a jerk with Mild Sauce packets and the other where you flipped over three tables before you had to be forcibly removed from the premises.”

Sam piped in. “Hey- don’t forget about when you made their soda fountain explode!”

“Ahh, good times, good times.”

“Yyyyep.”

For what seemed like horrible pacing and a long time, they sat there reminiscing about their shenanigans.

“Wanna go to the mall?”

“Frick yeah.”

—

The two preteens (although they very much did not look like preteens) walked down the tile floor of the mall through the crowd of people. Some looked down and recognized them from their previous... adventures, wisely stepping out of their way.

Pff. Weenies.

There was a wide variety of smells, some varying from delicious foods to even MORE delicious foods. It made Cheyenne’s mouth water. Maybe they could go to the pretzel stand at some point...

They were walking past the generic toy shop when Sam stopped abruptly. “Here!”

Chey looked up at the store, then peered inside of it. There were children bounding around from one display to another, begging their parents to get one.

“Here?”

“I can feel it. There is something in there... it’s... it’s drawing me towards it.”

“You said that at Taco Bell when you snuck into their kitchen and ate their entire supply of nacho fries… which you remember how well that ended, but let’s go anyway.”

“Heck yeah.”

Without further ado, they stepped inside.

Some of the parents took one look at them and dropped the toy they were holding, picked up their child,, and left. One of them even hoisted their daughter over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She hadn’t even paid for the doll that the kid was holding.

Well, that was somewhat uncalled for. They hadn’t even done anything yet!

“Sam, what did you say about...?” She trailed off when she saw that the anthropomorphic boy was gone.

She looked around the store, seeing a brunette robot- lady- whatever she was, holding a nerf machine gun. When the lady turned, she was holding the item with a malicious grin as well as a glint in her eyes. Chey stepped back, opting to look for Sam.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Sam?”

“CHEY LOOK I FOUND HIM!”

“Him?” Chey frowned as she rounded the display with a yellow mouse wearing sunglasses and holding a machine gun on it. Behind it, Sam was hugging a box in his arms.

“Wassat?”

“Our child.”

“...What.”

“Hear me out, Chey.”

“You have a few seconds to explain to me why you’re hugging a water gun, before we get kicked out of the store.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Chey could see the store cashier nervously hiding behind the counter, presumably calling for security. They hadn’t. Even. Done anything yet! Give them a break!!

“This... this is no water gun, Chey. He’s special. I can feel it.”

“You’re hugging the box, so, yeah, I guess you can feel it...”

“Nonono! I can FEEL. IT. This water gun- he’s destined for greatness! And that’s with us!”

Chey could hear the footsteps of the security guards coming their way. “Sam...”

“C’mon, Chey! Pleeeease?”

One look into those puppy dog eyes- those dang eyes- had Chey caving in. “Fine, man! Let’s pay for it and get the heck outta here.”

At that moment, the guards stepped into the store. Parents and their kids were looking around confusedly, until their eyes laid on the sight that was Chey and Sam. Another mother picked up her son, hauled him over her shoulders like sandbags, and booked it out of there.

Goodness.

Sam was already on it, though. He jumped and grabbed Chey with his tail, dragging her towards the entrance. She barely had time to throw the money at the cashier, who was cowering behind the counter.

They were met with resistance of course, but Sam was prepared. Somehow the water gun had made it out of the box, and Sam whacked the guard in the face with it.

“VIBE CHECK!”

Another smack, the guard letting out curses as Sam cackled wildly. He let go of Chey and they bolted into the main area of the mall. People were scattering as soon as they saw the two hellions make their way towards the foot court.

One of the guards behind them yelled out. “Oi! Get back-! You’re not supposed to be here!”

Sam, being the entity of chaos he was, ignored the men and went straight for the tables. Chey resisted the urge to groan as he slid under them, knocking them over (while people were still eating at them no less) in an effort to... well, Chey had no idea what he was doing, actually.

Chey shook her head as she sidestepped fallen chairs and the mess of food that littered the floor. Sam was up ahead of her, crashing into more tables and chairs.

The normal noisy chatter of the food court soon became loud yelling and screaming as the customers tried to avoid the onslaught of the entity that was Sam. There was no escape, however. Chey had learned that the hard way.

“SAM!”

Somehow, somehow- Sam had spawned a sock in his hand. He held the water gun in the other, while spinning the sock in circles uncontrollably. There was something at the end of it, and oh g-

More tables went down as the sock knocked them over. It hit people too, socking some in the stomach as they fell down in defeat. The boy(?) left a trail of fallen tables and people behind him as he continued his escape.

Chicky was going to murder them...

Although, this scenario has happened many times before. Why would it be any different this time? Eh, they’d live.

...Hopefully.

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER ONE: FAKING IT

SUMMARY: Lynn Moore dreads the beginning of her greatest fear: the first day of senior year. WORD COUNT: 2.3k NOTE: Get ready for typical teenager angst. Let’s all bully Lynn. WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR AROUND the middle of August, my mom tells me the same advice; have a good first day. Of course, most mothers, fathers, or whoever tell their child this, but it's as pointless as a circle. Whoever has a fantastic first day of school? There are new teachers to impress, you're stuck with the same bunch of losers you sit with at lunch, and there are more jerks and morons to pick on you, despite the status quo you fall under. High school is frankly really awful all the way around and there's no way someone can deny or even try to argue that. These are the four years of utter hell and we're all dying to get out. I've stepped through those heavy doors, resembling the gates of hell, on a first day three times now. My anger and hatred have only been fueled rather than dying down. I'm sure nothing will ever change.

"Don't forget--" Mom tries to tell me from the porch in sweats and a maroon t-shirt. Her unnatural dirty blonde hair piled on the top of her head with an old red clip. There are tears welling in her eyes, seeing her only child almost grown up. I have one last year of school and mere months until I'm an adult. For me, it may pass by far too slow, but I bet it's a whole different story for her. In all honesty, it's ridiculous that the woman is so upset and not to mention annoying. I have done this routine twelve times now, for Christ sake, she should get a grip on herself by now. I don't mean to belittle my mother but one of her greatest achievements is being able to replicate every single stereotype women have, including having no control over her emotions. An outsider looking in may say I'm a bit to harsh. All I can say to that is no one has loved with her for almost eighteen years like I have.

"I got it!" I yell against the wind as it smacks my face while I walk across the grass. "Christ on a bike," I curse tossing my messy light brown hair from my field of vision.

The bus would take another five minutes to get the corner, but I'd like to not look stupid on my first day by running to catch up with the metal rectangle of devilry Peter Parker style. Well, maybe it would turn into an interesting story at the least. Spiderman is my favorite superhero of all time after all. Despite this, I only allow an angry face to part my path. It's totally fake but faking it is the only way to survive.

Down at the intersection, there are already kids waiting. I think it's safe to assume that all of the puberty-sicken teenagers are freshmen or sophomores since most junior and seniors are still asleep at this early hour, knowing the good majority are able to drive. I take a good look at all of them. The fact that they find throwing bits of gravel at squirrels or birds makes me want to go over and smack them upside the head. That thought crosses my mind a lot. The world is so full of morons; it's hard to pick out which ones are actually tolerable. They're almost as bad as kids in letterman jackets with expensive sports cars. Those fuckers are the worst. All they care about is their ego and how much money they can wave around coming right from mommy and daddy's wallet.

Take the kid in the striped shirt tucked into his hand-me-down jeans. He looks like a nice kid; after all, he's got nothing to brag about. His parents are probably office workers or maybe nothing too difficult. Nothing too important. That's all we are, right? I mean, once we're dead and gone. No one is gonna care what car you drove or what brand your plain white shirt is. People who think they're hotshots or something special are the real morons.

Besides, who thinks it's cool to spend thirty bucks on a t-shirt?

An old car passes, a teenage girl in my grade sits in the driver's seat. I sort of duck out of the way. Not James Bond-like, but I move my already shitty hair in front of my face as if it's going to help hide my identity. The chick probably didn't even see me. I watch the car drive on, kinda imagining what sort of car I would drive once I get one. I suppose I would have to learn first. I personally am not a fan of getting behind the wheel. Hell, I can't even ride a bike without falling over. I'd rather move to a large city and order cabs to get me places. They seem more convenient and, if you get in a wreck, it's not your fault and it's not your money coming out of pocket. No car equals more money. Then again, no car also is equivalent to no freedom and taxis and Uber's can get expensive. It seems like each idea is flawed these days.

Upon scanning the area again— this time ignoring the idiots— I notice only one person who seems excited out of the group. Her dark brown hair and dark skin contrast to the majority of our town, including those waiting nearby. Her curled hair bounces with each stride she takes, happier than the step prior.

Some say it's strange that the girl and I are such good friends. You don't see God and Satan going out and having coffee every weekend or anything.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I question as I readjust my dark blue shirt underneath the flannel. Flannels are my favorite personal quirk. I own at least fifty, most being cool or dark colors. I don't have an obsession; just an interest that I care way too much about. Flannels are to Lynn Moore as controversy is to famous influencers. Looking back up, my eyebrow is still raised. I'm shocked to see her here, assuming her parents would have given her a lift. After a second, it dawned on me that this, riding the bus to school, was her punishment for getting into an accident she won't take responsibility for.

Posting memes and vines references are fun and all, but doing it while going 60 down a highway isn't the smartest. Forgive me for not following the strict millennial handbook but I don't actually want to die nor do I want my friends to.

My best friend, Ellie Graves, gives a small glare. "Why does it always seem like you're on your period?" I shrug my shoulders, and played with the wire choker I always wore. As my fingers slip underneath the necklace, it is evident how to lose it has gotten since I bought it a few months ago. I make a mental note to take a quick trip to the shopping side of the internet sometime soon.

I click my tongue before answering. "Probably because I'm closer to hell than you are," I say, referring to my obvious lack of height. I'm only five feet and just barely three inches off the ground while Ellie is at least five feet and seven inches. Personally I think we would make a cute couple given our attitudes and the extremities of our heights, except for the fact that dearest Ellie is not interested in people other than men. What a party pooper. For me, anyway. "But lets do our best to not reinforce stereotypes," I say referring to her comment.

She nods her head. "Yes, mother." I snort at her sass, leaning my body weight onto my right leg. "But hey! We have one year left! That's something to be excited about, am I right?"

Yes, I would say she is right. Freshmen, sophomore, and the dragged out junior year have come and passed, full of useless information and embarrassing memories with it. It's mostly embarrassing if I have to be honest. School isn't my thing, however falling up and down the main set of stairs apparently is. Who knew?

"Yeah, I suppose so. At least we're considered adults now," I reply trying to find some positive about the situation.

Ellie begins to lightly laugh, "True. That's kinda a scary thought, though." Her body shudders, either because a breeze just blew passed or out of what she just said.

The age of freedom is so close, I can nearly touch it. Despite my longing to finally buy a lottery ticket and spray paint, the fear of adulthood gnaws at the back of my mind. With eighteen comes responsibility, something I lack to a high degree. I muse the idea of getting a degree of irresponsibility. However, I don't think such diploma could help me get into a creative writing career.

I make a thinking face and bring my shoulders to my ears preparing for an exaggerated response. "Well, you aren't wrong," I reply in a forced high pitch noise, catching the attention of the guys. Now I notice they are all matching in basketball shorts and a jacket. Men's fashion, ladies and gents. Ellie chuckles at my utter dorkiness while I continue to make some weird face I'm sure she will get a picture of sometime within the next few seconds.

It's crazy how time is able to fly. Just last week, so it seems, the outgoing, beaming chick I have as a best friend and I were in third grade, the year I moved to a new house, a different school, and a very different town. Although my eight-year-old-self hated it at the time, I'm glad I left the northern state of Maine, all the way across to the midwest. That is if you consider southern Missouri part of the midwest. If I hadn't, who would have the privilege of being my first smack in the face? Or first sleepover (with an actual girl)? Who knows, and I honestly wouldn't like to. Ellie's my best friend; I would be dead if she didn't have my back. And I'm honestly positive she would say the same about her tiny best pal.

Little time passes after the picture was indeed taken and posted on Elle's Snapchat before an ugly shade of yellowish-orange appears entering the neighborhood. Ellie is practically fidgeting, fighting the urge to run up the bus even if it is some distance away. My eyes roll trying to not say anything to kill her spirit but I do let out an accidental groan as its loud hum draws nearer. The bus came to a screeching halt and I already want to turn on my heel and head home. When I step on, I notice there is a new driver this year. After Ellie got her license and could legally drive me around, I never bothered with the bus unless I needed space or she was busy, which was hardly ever. Ellie and I mostly spend our time together with our group of friends. Despite this, I still easily took notice of a different person in the seat. Instead of a balding old man with a face like alligator skin, a woman sat in the brown leather seat and looks roughly in her forties. She, like all of us except for Ellie, looks tired but fakes a smile anyways. The same rules apply; middle school and junior high in the front and high school in the back. It seems as if sitting in the back always made you cool of some sort. Every time a kid got away with it in middle school, he or she was automatically the bad kid, the cool kid, or the king of the bus. God, how stupid is that theory? These thoughts remind me how annoying and stupid we all were at ten and eleven years old. I'm sure if I had a duplicate of myself at that age, I'd shoot either one of us to cease me from the utter pain.

Instead of going all the way to the back, I turn to sit in the seat half way down the aisle while plunging in an earbud, leaving one open to listen to Ellie. I instantly scroll through an select a playlist that mixes rock, punk, and even some emo. Given today being my last first day, I figured early morning jams would be appropriate to get me pumped up even though I tend to listen to this genre quite often as of lately. I enjoy the heavy guitar and double bass pedal and lyrics I can either relate to or wonder who hurt the singer so bad. Needless to say, I'm definitely more of a rock person however there's still a lot of other types of music on my device, including orchestra and folk or indie. I don't like to limit what I listen to; whatever makes me feel good ends up on my phone. Simple as that.

"So, Lynn," Ellie says sliding in right next to me. I look in her direction, which was to my right, waiting for her to respond. She looks at me, but nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, I arch a brow. Still, there was nothing. "I had nothing to say, I just wanted your attention." Ellie gave a stupid grin while I glare kindly at her if there is such a thing.

My head shakes and I reach out to pat her cheek, "You, my darling, are an absolute dumbass."

I feel her grin grow against my hand since I haven't moved it yet. "Not as big as you, though." I can't argue; she has a point.

As the bus lunches forwards, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Something settles in my gut about then, the feeling both familiar and foreign. I can't tell what it is, but as I watch the clouds roll in over the sun and birds flying through the sky, I only hope my last year of high school will be memorable.

[crystalrequiem]

Soulmate Meme Blurb

Based very loosely on this post

KuroFai, Firstwords Soulmate Mark AU. That’s basically all you need to know. Warnings: Cursing.   Kurogane being aggressively annoyed.

“…don’t you think, Kurogane?” Tomoyo asks, turning to look at her brother as they make their way towards the subway. He has no idea what she just said, but chances are good it probably had something to do with the Kinomoto girl. He nods, and she seems satisfied.

He doesn’t usually ignore his favorite sister. He just can’t help that something else has captured his attention.

There’s that blond again, in the same stupid uniform, at the same stupid coffee shop. That guy somehow manages to wind up wiping the tables outside every damn time he and Tomoyo pass by on their way their respective schools. Kurogane knows that it could just be a routine. Maybe the blond always comes out to tidy the patio at the same time of morning, but something tells Kurogane the jerk does this on purpose. He’s fairly certain he watched the idiot wipe down an already spotless surface as Kurogane passed by more than once, too-blue eyes staring amusedly at him the whole time.

Asshole. What right does he have to stand there looking so damn attractive every morning, unaffected no matter how viciously Kurogane glares his way. Pretty face and long limbs and the way he moves—He’s interesting. He makes Kurogane, ever so slightly, nervous.

What a dick.

The blond stops what he’s doing just as they pass, meets Kurogane’s glare as effortlessly as always, and winks.

He fucking winks.

“Do you know that person?” Tomoyo asks him, softly, and Kurogane hurries to race down the rest of the block before either of them can see the shade his face is turning. He imagines he hears the sound of someone’s musical laugh chasing behind.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The next day, he’s there again. Of course he is.

“He seems nice,” Tomoyo announces, “you should talk to him sometime.” Like clockwork, the man at the café distracts Kurogane from what his sister means to tell him. He hums distantly in answer, watching his tormentor move. Those slim shoulders flex quite nicely as the jerk works to clean the glass of his storefront, some kind of squeegee in hand.

God, what is he doing? He doesn’t need more daydream food. He has more than enough already. He doesn’t want it. Kurogane will deny it until the day he dies, but at the heart of things, he maybe might be a closet romantic. He’ll wait to fall head over heels until he hears the ridiculous diatribe scrawled in large, looping letters over the canvas of his back, thank you very much. He doesn’t want…. Whatever this weird fixation is.

Really.

They step closer, and just when he thinks he might finally slip by without those blue eyes sliding mercilessly towards his, Tomoyo does the strangest thing.

“Morning!” She calls across the street, waving. Blondie catches sight of her motion reflected on dark glass and turns to wave back.

“Tomoyo, what the hell are you doing,” Kurogane grits through his teeth. He wants to look away, but he’s doomed to catch the man’s gaze again. Tomoyo is a traitor.

He reaches over and stills his sister’s wrist, desperate to slip by without further embarrassment. That damn wink had already been permanently mired in his thoughts. He thinks it won’t bother him so badly if the guy tries again, but he would much rather avoid it all the same.

So of course that asshole meets his intimidating scowl with a wicked grin. Of course, he lifts that previously waving, long-fingered hand to his lips and blows a kiss.

“Oh my, you’re very red right now.” His traitor sister does not need to tell him. He very much knows.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Today, he simply plans to hide from it. Maybe he has to face that guy again at some point, but “some point” is not right now. The kind of dreams he had last night….

He will absolutely 100% not walk past the café today. Tomoyo would notice if he asked her to walk a different route, so he won’t walk with Tomoyo. He can afford to skip his first class. Totally and completely worth it.

“Sorry. It’s what I get for putting the damn paper off so long,” he lies. “I’ll have to head in after I manage to print this out.”

There is no way his sister believes him. He almost expects the searching gaze she subjects him to.

He does not expect her to figure out the reason for his avoidance so quickly, but when she returns home with an empty coffee sleeve, he knows he’s been made.

“I had extra time, so I stopped in that café today. That nice man we always see in the morning was there.” Kurogane can feel his teeth grinding together.

“Of course he was,” he bites.

“He asked me where you were, you know? I told him you put your homework off too long and he agreed you don’t seem like the type.” Great. Okay, he gets it already; she knows this is simply an act of cowardice. “Anyway, he seemed very cute and you did go very red yesterday. So I got his phone number for you.”

…what?

Tomoyo places the sleeve in front of him, facing it so Kurogane can see the digits scrawled beneath a doodle of a winking cat.

He sees a flash of burning-blue in his mind’s eye, the lines of that handsome face—

Where the hell does this asshole get off trying to be so smooth!? Kurogane folds the damn sleeve in half and half again, ignoring the way Tomoyo tuts. He crumples it, tries as hard as he can to put that idiot out of his mind.

(He doesn’t throw it away. )

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

He wakes up in a bad mood. Souma mentioned he missed a pop quiz in the class he skipped yesterday, which is entirely that cute—that jerk’s fault. Tomoyo is miffed at him for ignoring her ‘crucial contributions as a wingman,’ and they’re running a bit late on their way to the subway this morning.

To top it all off, when he makes it within view of the café, blondie is nowhere in sight.

Ugh, just fuck that guy, seriously. It’s the first weekday in nearly three months that asshole hasn’t been out front to watch the two of them walk by. And doesn’t it just figure that today’s the day Kurogane finally thought he might get enough courage to walk up and say something. Of course today’s the day he finally gives up.

He wants to stroll right into that store, get right in that handsome face and say—

Oh.

Oh no.

“No time to pause, big brother, I can’t be late today! Sakura said she got a haircut last night and I have to see!” Tomoyo’s voice shakes him out of his shock. Kurogane stares at her blankly for a moment longer, fingers the thin, folded cardboard in his pocket.  

“Go ahead. I’ll take the next train.” He tells her, looking pointedly away. He knows he’s going to catch hell for this at home later, but at least she doesn’t have time to tease him right this instant. She dashes off, braided hair trailing behind her.

Kurogane lifts the cat drawing from his pocket, smooths it, thinks about the looping handwriting of those numbers.

God. Damn it.

He shoves the thing violently back, and furiously j-walks across the street without even bothering to check for cars. He pays no heed to the honking or the angry driver yelling in his wake save to flip them off behind his back, pulls the shop door open with entirely more force than necessary.

The customers in line don’t appreciate him elbowing his way to the barista counter, but they can rot for all he cares. He’d like to see them try something. His mission takes absolute priority.

“Fuck you.”

Finally, Finally, he manages to kick a reaction out of the blond jerk who’s been wordlessly flirting with him for months. Shock fills his pretty eyes, lips quirking into an uncertain, softer smile. He opens his damn mouth and Kurogane knows exactly what the idiot will say.

“Ah, so it is you! I figured you might be the kind of guy obnoxious enough to let ‘fuck you,’ be the first thing you ever say. Do you realize how much trouble your damn words have brought me all these years?”

Doesn’t it just figure that this jerk has a nice voice too? 

“About as much as that fucking essay has brought me, I’d assume,” Kurogane drawls, torn between annoyance and elation.

(When blondie laughs and moves in for the kiss he’s been secretly, guiltily dreaming of, he leans toward elation.)

[stellar-sushi-blog]

too much asagao!kit

have you ever wanted five pages of useless information about my si? no? oh well here you go anyways!! the link to the original template is here. be warned, it’s like ten pages long.

Name: Victoria

Nickname: Kit

Origin of nickname: She used ‘Kit’ as a pen name when she wrote for the school newspaper. Her friends soon started using it jokingly, but it ended up sticking with her.

Age: 17

Sex: Female

Sexual Orientation: Panromantic Heterosexual

Current status: a..alive?

Birth date: November 17th

Current residence: Asagao Academy

Occupation: Student

Hobbies: Kit enjoys writing, doodling, making origami, going for walks, sewing plushies, working with ceramics, and doing volunteer work.

-

Most important childhood “event” that still affects her: Kit almost always had her parents holding her hand. She even went to the same private school for 5th-8th grade where her mother worked. Also, before attending Asagao, she’d never spent more than two days away from one of her parents.

How? Because of the constant sheltering and guidance her parents gave her, Kit never learned how to do anything by herself and has a horrible time socializing and trying new things.

-

How does she dress or what do they typically wear? For school, she wears the required white button-up, yellow vest, and black skirt. On her free days she normally chooses to wear a white tank top, black skinny jeans, and an oversized, crocheted cardigan.

Other outfits one might find in their wardrobe: Kit has WAY too many tank tops and gym shorts. Where do they keep coming from? Where does she get them all?? Why does she have them all??? Please stop her.

Jewelry:Her favorite pieces of jewelry are her hoops earrings, a silver and black onyx ring, and a bracelet with an octopus charm on it.

Health: In a physical sense, she’s alright despite having a heart problem. Her mental state isn’t the greatest, though.

-

Habits/Obsessions: She loves Nokemon and candles. Even if she can’t burn them in her dorm room, she has like 20 candles.

Unique phrases/words: To her friends, she will blurt out random Italian phrases and curses to confuse them.

Do they curse, and if so, to what extent? Kit swears a moderate amount around friends, but only around friends.

-

Describe their sleep patterns: She either sleeps for 13 hours straight, or sleeps for 5 hours.

Describe their bedroom: Kit’s side of the dorm is very messy, but it’s very well organized.

Describe their daily rituals:

Kit is normally awoken by a distressed Sammi twenty minutes before class. In a panic, she throws on her uniform, brushes her hair and teeth, then grabs her backpack before leaving.

In class, she can normally be found doodling and trying not to fall asleep.

When lunch rolls around and she has no other work to finish up, Kit goes to the library and reads until the next bell. Here, she also finds time to gawk at the cute, student council president and even the boy who is almost always in the nurse’s office.

After the second half of the day, she returns to the dorm to do homework. Once it’s finished, she eats dinner then either works on a creative project or plays games with her roommate.

Lastly, she makes her way to the bathroom for a shower before finally going to bed.

-

How self-confident is the character? Not at all.

How does she see herself? As just another angsty teen who complains too much.

How do they believe she is perceived by others? She either thinks of herself as a queen, or a piece of crap. Depends on the day.

What does the character like least about themselves? Her constant need for attention.

How do they express themselves? By writing or drawing, normally.

Is this character generally dominant or submissive? Submissive

Most at ease when: She’s alone and safe, or just around friends in general.

Ill at ease when: She’s by herself in an unfamiliar area.

Describe their sense of humor: Kit will laugh at and joke about mostly everything, as long as it’s within some boundaries. She can go from laughing over a 12 year old’s joke to a joke about cannibalism.

If they could be described with one of the seven virtues, which would it be? Justice

If they could be described with one of the seven sins, which would it be? Envy/Sloth

Biggest Vulnerability (non physical): She’s easily threatened to do things.

Optimist or Pessimist: Pessimist.

Introvert or extrovert: Introvert.

Greatest Fear: BEARS

Other Fears/Insecurities/Phobias: Kit isn’t confident with her body/personality, is afraid of deep water, and fears fires.

Character's darkest, deepest secret: Her past.

Minor Secrets: She keeps the people she hates and has a crush on a secret.

-

Favorite...

Color: Purple.

Clothing: Tank tops.

Place: The field near Asagao.

Room in the house and why: Bedroom/dorm. It’s warm and comfy.

Food/drinks: Any Italian foods + Slushies.

Subject in school: Creative Writing / Ceramics.

Animal: Cat.

Least Favorite...

Clothing: Socks.

Place: The city (when she’s by herself.)

Food: Meat.

Subject in school: Math.

Where does this character like to hang out? She likes to hang out in the library and her dorm room.

-

How does this character deal with or react to…

Conflict/Danger: She’ll try to handle it calmly, but she also might cry.

Rejection: Lots and lots of tears and self deprecation

Fear: Run away or ignore it. Pray to God for help.

Change: Adapt or die, unless it’s completely traumatic.

Loss: Ignore the pain and get over it or cry until she passes out.

Sex/Flirting: Become insanely uncomfortable or go along with it.

Pain: Get as far away as possible from the cause of it, or deal with it.

Peer pressure: Tell the person trying to pressure her to fuck off.

Guilt: Cry and guilt-trip herself for fifteen years.

Being wrong: Panic and think about the mistake for hours after.

Being criticized: Normally, she’ll get angry or sad. On a good day, she’ll get over it and be extremely thankful for it. But, if it was unwarranted, she’ll get pissed beyond belief.

Offending others: Apologize hundreds of times and feel more guilt than she should.

Praise: Is… is this for me? Or are you talking to someone else?

How does this character feel about...

Marriage: She’s not really in a rush to get married, but it sounds like a cute thing to do.

Children: No.

Family/Family Values: She thinks that you should always treat your family with respect, unless they’re an asshole to you.

Old age: Doesn’t sound very fun.

Sex: [uncomfortable wheezing]

Love: Cute!! But she probably doesn’t deserve it.

Friendship/Other relationships: Please be her friend. She’s very lonely and she’ll bake sweets for you.

The opposite sex: CUTE

The same sex: CUTE

Money/Material things: Because of her family’s small fortune, she doesn’t really have to worry about money. She does, however, get very emotionally attached to some material objects.

Science: Biology is interesting and fun, but chemistry makes her head hurt.

Nature/Animals: She loves animals and would die for them.

Drugs and alcohol: Kit would never touch most drugs except for alcohol. Maybe.

What embarrasses this character? Pretty much anything sexual.

-

Crushes: She has three crushes but would never act upon them. One on Paul and one on Jeff. Don’t ask her about the third one or else she’ll die from embarrassment.

Girlfriend/Boyfriend(s): N/A

Best Friend: Sammi

Friends: All of 8BB

Pets: Sometimes she hoards stray cats in her dorm when she finds them in the city. (She does, however, give them up to a shelter when she gets the chance.)

What kind of person would she consider to be the perfect partner? Someone who is kind, supportive, and can take a joke. She’d also like someone who will play games with her and stay up until 4am.

Is the character judgmental of others and how so? If you’re an asshole to someone around her, Kit will judge you until you die and never let it go.

How is she perceived by...

Strangers? Who is this awkward girl? Why is she trying to joke with me? Where are her parents?

Friends? Please stop telling me to do my homework and please stop trying to fight anyone who looks at me wrong. Yes, Kit, we’re friends. You don’t need to ask so often. Please stop baking for me. You damn meme-loving fuck.

Coworker/Colleague? Why does this girl keep stuttering in class? What is she so nervous about?

Lovers? Since when was I dating this nerd and how does she manage to bake me a cake every few weeks?

Describe their sense of trust: Kit really wants to be able to trust everyone. But, if you break her trust, she will ignore you for the rest of your life.

What type of individuals does she like or associate with? She likes to hang around nerds, because it sums up her interests pretty well.

What type of individuals doesn't she like or associate with? Jocks. She thinks that if she associates with them, people with figure that she’s also a jock even though she’s far from it.

What do family/friends like most about character? She’s good at keeping up conversations and is very adaptable to new situations.

What do family/friends like least about character? She’s awkward and can often push herself away from everyone for weeks at a time.

-

Birthparent(s): A mother and a father.

Are they still alive? Yes.

Did they raise this character? Yes.

What did they do for a living? Her mother works at a private middle school and her father is a petroleum engineer.

Caretakers: She had a nanny when she was younger.

Are they still alive? Yes

At what age did the caretakers begin to raise this character? From when she was born to when she was 12.

Siblings (if any): A half-sister and half-brother.

Describe how each one treats this character: Her sister, when she lived with Kit, was very kind to her. Her brother used to be very angry with her, but eventually mellowed out and they’re now friends.

Does this character still keep in contact with their siblings? Only with her brother.

-

If this character were an animal, what would they be? An armadillo.

Why? Low body temperature, hides in a ball when scared, long nails, not really dangerous, and runs from humans.

What would happen if this character became physically handicapped, and how would that change them? Her depression might worsen, but she’d definitely try not to let it affect her daily routines.

What would this character do if spontaneously placed in a whole new and unfamiliar environment? She’d be terrified, but would at least make an attempt to communicate and get home asap.

-

What song best fits this character? Say Anything - Do Better

If you could compare this character to an existing character, who would she be and why? Ashley from Until Dawn, maybe.

-

Character's role in the story: Background character. Very minor.

Scene where character first appears: When Mai pulls Hana away from Ian, they bump into Kit. She is shown very briefly and only manages to force out a “Oh, s-sorry!” before running off. This leads to Mai explaining Hidden Block, then 8-Bit Blossoms.

Relationships with other characters: She treats Hana very nicely, is a little afraid of Mai, loves her roommate, and is eternally greatful for Mr. McPasta constantly bandaging her hands up from ceramics class. For anyone else, she tries to act very polite but her tendency to joke may make her come off as a bit blunt.

[winkinglester]

Ride of My Life

summary: 'we sat next to each other on a roller coaster and ended up accidentally ditching our friends oops' au

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff

warnings: swearing. also roller coasters??

a/n: im a slut for au’s so. here. also, feedback is always appreciated!!

Phil’s legs were beginning to ache. It wasn’t his fault he got winded easily; it was just that his friends all hadn’t quit sports and they could handle flight after flight of stairs.

The nearby amusement park was having a half-off day where tickets were ridiculously cheap, so apparently, all of London wanted to spend their day there. Even though it was a hell of a bargain, Phil couldn’t understand why so many people wanted to spend their afternoons in high heat, waiting for a thirty-second ride, just so they could slowly get nauseous. He wasn’t even sure why he had joined his friends today, anyways.

So, that brought Phil to where he was, climbing endless stairs to the top of whatever roller coaster they were riding next. Supposedly, this one made people go unconscious. Great.

“Phil, dude, have you ever ridden this?” Phil’s friend PJ asked. “It’s mental. It goes so fast you forget who you are.” All of Phil’s friends nodded in agreement.

Phil shrugged. “I’ve never ridden this one in particular, but I can imagine.” He wasn’t trying to sound so bitter, but his legs hurt, he wasn’t enjoying himself, and fuck it was hot today. What else could he expect from July?

“You’re totally not ready for this, man,” another one of his friends said, lightly punching his arm. “It’s gonna blow your socks off.”

Phil frowned and looked down at his socks. One blue sock with popsicles and one light green sock with sharks. “I like these socks, I don’t wanna lose them.”

PJ rolled his eyes and laughed. “Come on, the line’s moving.”

The group of boys slowly made their way up the line until they were next. Phil was annoyed to see that the roller coaster sat five people across. Their group had six.

“Shit, who’s alone?”

“We could do four and two, or three and three- “

“Maybe we can- “

“I’ll just ride alone, I really don’t care,” Phil muttered, stepping over to the ‘Single Riders’ sign.

“Are you sure? We can probably figure something out,” PJ said, looking around.

Phil put his hands on PJ’s shoulders and half-smiled. “I don’t mind, Peej, really.”

PJ raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Suit yourself, man.”

It was their turn next, so Phil climbed into the roller coaster. Somehow, he ended up in the front row. He was buckling his seatbelt when someone slid in next to him. Phil looked over nonchalantly. The boy that had just sat down next to him was, surprisingly, as tall as him, which was different. He had brown hair that was starting to curl at the edges, and deep caramel eyes to match. Freckles were peppered across his face, making little constellations here and there. He folded his legs awkwardly under the seat, trying to get comfortable.

“It helps to put your knees like this,” Phil found himself saying to the boy, adjusting his legs so the boy could see.

The boy wiggled into place and smiled at Phil. “Thanks,” he said, a grin that was way too big for his face settling in. Phil immediately wanted to get to know the boy for some reason.

“Uh, you like riding?” Phil asked. “Wait! Oh my god! I meant riding roller coasters!” Phil clapped his hand over his mouth. Good job, Phil, he thought. Scaring people away has always been a skill of yours.

The boy laughed, throwing his head back and almost hitting the roller coaster seat. “I-jesus-yeah. I love roller coasters,” he wheezed. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

Phil found himself laughing too, and soon the two boys were sat next to each other, cackling and drawing attention from everyone around them. This was the most fun Phil had had all day.  

The boys talked for another minute, exchanging names and other basic information until the roller coaster began to move. Phil smiled despite himself; he had gotten so lost in conversation with Dan that he had forgotten the ride was about to start.

“Welcome to the Superman,” a deep voice announced. The roller coaster jerked forwards, creaking slightly. Phil felt uneasy, but excited. He looked over at Dan, who was laughing and kicking his feet like a child. Phil smiled.

“…and please keep all loose objects secured. Have a nice ride!” The safety speech finished and the roller coaster began to slowly lurch up the first big drop. Phil felt his stomach flip over once, then twice.

“I hope we don’t die!” Dan said, kicking Phil’s foot lightly. His hands were tight around the protective bar.

“I hope so too,” Phil said, staring at Dan for just a second too long. With that, the ride reached the top of the hill and took off.

--

“Look at your face!” PJ laughed, pulling Phil next to him to view the post-ride pictures. The ride had just ended and holy shit that was fun. Phil couldn’t believe that he had actually enjoyed it.

“Yeah, that’s quite attractive,” Phil muttered distractedly, looking around for Dan. Phil had an ugly scream face, he knew that, but he was more interested in finding his new friend. When he spotted the brunette talking to a pretty blonde, he ignored the pang in his stomach and strolled over.

“Hey, Dan, we were going to ride the Tantrum next, did you want to join us?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. The blonde turned to her friends.

Dan glanced back at the group he was standing with and rolled his eyes. “Yes, please. My friends are great but I would love to ride with someone else.” He lowered his voice. “Steph here grips my arm as if she’s trying not to fall out.” He rolled up his sleeve to show Phil four half-moon shaped dents in his arm. “The acrylic nails are killing me.”

“More like they’re acr-killing you,” Phil joked putting up finger guns. Dan groaned.

“Never mind, I’m not riding anything else with you, that pun was terrible,” he said, hiding his laughter.

Phil nudged his shoulder and led Dan back to his friends. “Everyone, this is Dan.”

--

Dan and Phil exited another ride together, laughing and clutching their stomachs. This was their third- or was it their fourth?- time riding Revenge! and Phil never wanted to stop. Except maybe he did, since he was beginning to feel warnings in his stomach.

Dan was finishing some story about secondary school and cry-laughing. “And when he showed up, the entire class was wearing Shrek masks. I’ve never heard a grown man scream louder.”

Phil snorted. He was beginning to like Dan a lot. He looked over at the boy, who was still laughing. His hair had finally given up, loose curls falling down his face. His skin was flushed from having been upside down so many times, but it just drew more attention to the boy’s tan.  

Dan glanced at Phil and caught him staring, which sent Phil looking in the opposite direction, blushing. The two boys sat down on a nearby bench. Phil could smell funnel cake nearby, and he could hear distant screams of happiness.

“Ah, shit,” Dan sighed.

“What?” Phil asked.

“We both totally ditched our friends, didn’t we?” Dan looked at Phil, eyes twinkling.

“I think we did,” Phil answered, leaning back on the bench. He pulled out his phone to send his group a brief “I’m not dead, don’t worry about me” text and Dan did the same. When Phil set his phone back down, his and Dan’s hands brushed. Cue more blushing.

Relax, Phil, you don’t have a crush on someone you literally met four hours ago, Phil told himself. Even if you spent the whole day with them, can’t stop staring at them, and would gladly make out with them.

“So, who are you? What are you into, besides emo music and stupid memes?” Phil asked.

“I like reading, and writing, and listening to music, and video games.” Dan smiled at Phil. “Any nerdy shit, I’m into it.”

“Me too. Do you like school?” Phil asked, cursing himself for sounding like his mother.

“Hell no,” Dan replied. “Tell me about yourself, Phillip. Favorite color? Three items you’d take to an abandoned island? Got a girlfriend?”

Phil thought for a moment. “Blue or green, probably some cereal, my phone and earbuds, and nope.”

Dan tilted his head. “Why no girlfriend? You’re cute.”

Phil ignored the last comment and looked down. “I like boys, so…”

Dan’s eyes lit up. “Me too!”

Phil felt relief flood through him, for some reason. “Yeah? What’s your type, then?”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Cute boys who spend entire afternoons with me after we just met,” he said.

Phil bit his lower lip, trying to decide between sprinting away at 90 miles per hour and kissing Dan senseless.

He decided on the latter.

Dan’s lips met Phil’s as soon as Phil started leaning towards him. Dan kissed with little pecks, and Phil could feel his smile through his lips. He could only hear Dan’s breath and his own heartbeat as they kissed, keeping track of however long they spent with their lips attached. Dan smelled like coffee and mint, the scent surrounding Phil. His lips were chapped, compared to Phil’s smooth ones, but Phil didn’t really mind since he had sort of wanted to kiss Dan ever since he showed him how to deal with long ass legs. Phil felt Dan’s nose brush against his cheek, and heard Dan laugh nervously. Phil simply responded by putting his hand on Dan’s cheek and deepening the kiss. Dan opened his mouth, allowing Phil’s tongue to slip in smoothly. Dan leaned into Phil some more, kissing as if he would die tomorrow.

After what seemed like hours, the boys finally pulled apart sheepishly.  Phil heard hoots in the distance and turned around to see not only his friends, but Dan’s too, cheering them on.

Dan gave them the finger.

“Come on, lover boy!” PJ yelled. “Your ride’s leaving!”

“I guess I’ll see you around?” Phil suggested, turning back to Dan. Dan grabbed Phil’s phone and quickly tapped in his number.

“If you’re lucky,” he said with a wink.

Phil smiled at Dan for the billionth time that day.