#no coz they literally put crack in no air

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

no, no breathing

beach date hcs ig

gender neutral reader

Like a fish in water, a beach date with Jack is the perfect opportunity for him to spend some quality time with you while not having to worry about the chaotic backdrop that Night Raven College is. This is the chance for him to genuinely show himself to you while building memories that characterize the youthfulness of what it means to be a student: stealing moments like these in between the crunch of the world, fleeting ephemerality within the constant hubbub that defines so much of the society that he’s learning to pave his path in.

Even while at the beach, Jack guards over you loyally: a knight in swimming trunks fending off the great threat of everything that the beach holds. From accompanying you wherever you want to go to making sure you’re well hydrated and staying safe in the sun, you can feel his comforting presence floating near you. It’s an amalgamation of amusement and relief for you; you get the chance to refresh and recharge on the beach while knowing that someone fully has your back.

When you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, thanking him under your breath with a whisper only you could have, he melts into your touch. This is what love is, the warmth of the sunset mingling between the two of you and the electric buzz in his head when you smile, and this is what he wants to feel with you for as long as the world will let him. Love is something he holds dear to his heart, revering more than his conventional peers might, and he cherishes you with that same respect.

He makes a promise to himself that day, both to himself and to you, that he would do all he can to protect that same happiness the two of you shared. Whether that takes the form of continuing to stay by your side once your regular schooldays resumed or a shared love that would span the course of your entire life, he vows with the vigor and sincerity that only he could hold to fill your heart with nothing but joy and all the sweetness that love has to offer.

“Did you have fun? It looked like you did. I’m glad you agreed to come here with me. I like spending time with you like this, alone, with no one to bother us.”

Going to the beach is a complicated subject to Azul, but he knows more than well that refusing to come to terms with his own past means that he would only live with nothing but fear over something that he could easily unravel with his own hands. His journey to going to the beach is a personal one, but he doesn’t want his own trepidations to cloud your experience, so he does his best to keep his contemplations to himself to deal with accordingly.

Azul reminds you to stay safe while you’re frolicking on the beach, always keeping an eye at you from where he rests in the sand while you dip your toes in the beach, preferring to engrave the image of you smiling back at him while iridescent water drops cling to your skin like a string of pearls adorning a water nymph’s body. The idea of being loved was something so distant to him at one point in his life, and he wants to hold onto this blissful feeling until the day he dies.

If there are no other people around and he feels generous enough, he might entertain you with a small song of his own. His voice travels the span of the pink sands, washing over the pulsating waves as if tempting the God of the Sea to come up and listen, and his dulcet tones makes him appear even more angelic, letting go of his business persona and giving in to the normalcy of a date that lasts for a few hours: the luxury of what it might be like to be an average student with their lover by the beach.

By the end of the date, he’ll offer to take you on a walk by the sand so that the two of you can observe the sunset together. The ends of his pants are hiked up slightly, and he rids himself of his jacket, taking your hand in his as the two of you slowly shuffle down the beachside. Azul’s casualness is a side he shows only to you, and you accept it wholeheartedly, admiring both the sunset and him as the day winds to a close. He laughs joyously, genuinely, truly, the rays of the setting sun dyeing the pale color of his cheeks and making his happiness all the more radiant. 

“Ah... What a beautiful sight. Don’t you wish you could capture something like this before your eyes forever? My dear, let’s try to see more views like this one. Together, always.”

A beach date has Cater’s heart soaring in anticipation: Magicam pictures, fun with you, a chance to escape the restricting collar of his normal life. He knows he does all sorts of “fun” things most kids would consider to be monumental, but his hedonistic desire and his chronic inability to form a meaningful connection with anything in his life makes normalcy difficult for him. But maybe—much like the wish he always makes—he can at least live that normalcy vicariously through you instead.

He clings to you a bit harder once the two of you are actually on your date, cutely claiming that he needs to stick close to you, lest he lose you to the waves. You can’t help but wonder how much of that is true: is that another excuse of his to hide the fact that if you leave him alone, he’ll disappear into the waves of his self-imposed destruction by himself? Regardless of how you feel about it, you make sure to follow his request, and you stay with him the entire day.

The final itinerary of the day is for him to photograph you standing at the beach. A perfect moment captured in time—your trembling eyes looking into the camera as if you’re staring into something deeper than a mere phone lens, the oxymoron of being the one who understands the anomaly that Cater is the most yet knowing almost absolutely nothing about him when the lens lifts, and it’s his clear green eyes that stare back at you. 

Is the pang in your chest out of pity or out of love? Neither of you can answer honestly. The only thing you know for certain is that the ride back to school will be in silence, and the weight of his empty smiles and glassy eyes will rest on your chest the entire night and even far into the future. It’s at times like this that you wish you could decipher the lock to Cater’s heart, but what can you do when Cater himself is that hesitant on acknowledging the padlock he willingly placed on his feelings? 

“Look at how cute you look! Perfect for Magicam, isn’t it? Man, we really ought to do more stuff like this! You can’t get pictures like these if all we’re doing is staying in school!”

Is there anything Ruggie loves more than taking you out somewhere nice and letting all the worries of the world slip away? When he’s running through the crisp ocean waves with you in hand, laughing like he hasn’t done so in forever, things like his own struggle for survival, the weight of expectation from those he loves most, the reality of inequality that has tainted every bit of his life, simply fades away into the distant peals of your giggles.

Ruggie lets his more playful streak run free on the beach with you. From splashing you mischievously with cold water to burying you up to the neck in sand, a date to the beach with you is a chance at the normalcy that had been snatched away from him since he was born. Here, he isn’t the hyena that scrapes by in the slums or the older brother that shoulders the burden of providing for the young ones back home, but he’s just Ruggie, who loves you lots and wants to have fun with you.

In between the shenanigans, he still makes sure to shower you with plenty of affection. He’ll offer to help you put sunscreen on your back and steal a kiss every now and then, the salty taste of the sea bream making you scrunch your nose up cutely. He doesn’t want to spend a moment of the day away from your side, so he sticks as close as he can to you: fingers linked, smiling big, and ready for adventure.

He stays there as long as he can with you, until the dawny sun sets on the horizon and the stars make their quiet entrances. He’ll scan the galaxies up above for the brightest star he can find before he carefully points it out to you, murmuring about how even his dearly departed mother seems to be twinkling in approval down on the two of you. He’s happy, so happy, that he’s found a chance at love and at life with you, and he wants to capture this moment for as long as he can.

“Pretty, isn’t it? I bet Ma’s real happy that I brought you out to see her. I can see her the most clearly on nights like these, so thanks for letting me drag you all the way out here.”

x

[house-of-tykayl]

cystar tho (headcanons)

imagine

cyborg and starfire are the cuddliest couple ever. the PDA is incredible. star will perch on his shoulders like he’s a climbing post/bird perch and generally just drape herself all over him bc he’s got a lot of surface area and she wants comfy. and cy will just grab her out of midair for huggles before letting her float away again like a balloon headed straight for the atmosphere. star will float higher when she wants to look over his shoulder at something (bc hes the only titan taller than her) and sometimes cy will just reach up and touch her waist and lead her around in the air like that while they chat

the other titans support them, but are simultaneously disgusted by the excessive amount of PDA. cy sometimes milks star’s affection to troll everyone, especially at the breakfast table. “hey star i havent had my morning kiss today” “oh apologies” “do that long tongue thingy again babe” “if you two dont let me eat my waffles in peace for just ONE morning i will open a portal to the seventh circle of hell and chuck the both of you inside”

star is living for the unabashed affection bc cyborg has no qualms about being proud boyfriend in public. like he’ll wrap an arm around her and go “hey star’s my girlfriend :)” and the grocery store clerk’s like “we know, that’ll be $15.99″ and star’s just beaming, holding the plastic bags full of snacks and unorthodox food combinations

if cy’s generous with the lovin wait till you see star lmao. “you are looking most beautiful today!” she keeps saying shit literally no one else will say, either (possibly) coz of the robot thing or just coz starfire’s being starfire, and cyborg’s just like *clutches_chest.jpeg* because she a lil weirdo but she makes him feel normal and appreciated and that he’s great the way he is, that he’s desired even if a lot of him isn’t organic anymore. like yes!! my boyfriend is comprised of 80% robotic parts!! he is extremely strong and the “cool”!!! is he not absolutely wonderful???

ok but starfire can almost never get enough touching, and cyborg’s just like aight *picks her up and carries her around on his arm for an hour* and she’ll just be giddy the entire time

more under the cut

star doesnt have a lot of preconceived notions of what a normal human relationship is, outside of things she sees on TV and robin’s incomprehensible push-pulling over the years. so she doesn’t care one bit about the fact that she’s cuddling a robot. she’d figured starting a relationship with anyone on earth would be something different for her regardless– so a lot of the things cyborg used to think a partner would find problems with, end up not happening because man, this alien chick. “may i lay together with you in your bed?” “girl are you saying you wanna sleep while standing up?? on my charging port???? surrounded by 3478012 cables and wires?????” “is there no room? then may i sleep on the floor?” she just wants to be with him

heck more bed shenanigans would involve like, cyborg awkwardly trying to lie down on star’s bed, and it feels weird coz he hasn’t slept in a real bed for years and while it feels nice he’s kinda sinking into the mattress and he’s self-conscious about leaving a dent in the frame?? or like rolling over at night and squashing star which would be awkward coz he’s more than a little heavy?? then star hops in and cuddles close and is all like shhhhhhhhh slep time

silkie is usually very happy about cyborg’s presence in star’s room, if only because he can gnaw on cy’s legs while they sleep. cy begins to think it’s also revenge since there’s a lot less space on the bed with himself in it, and silkie struggles to find room near starfire to sleep at night. they eventually just get a bigger bed. silkie is a lot less stressed– but cyborg still wakes up with chew marks in his legs

if either of them are too tired from a battle that day, the other will carry them to bed. BB laughed his ass off the first time he saw starfire princess carrying cy to his room (star’s perfectly capable of carrying his weight but her arms aren’t necessarily long enough to hold onto him properly, making it a little cumbersome and awkward), but cy just tiredly gives B the finger

cy will talk to star in awkward broken tamaranian and she’ll get all giggly. everyone else assumes it’s cute flirting, but he’s actually whispering dirty, raunchy shit. that she taught him. and she continues to teach him tamaranian, occasionally dropping new words while otherwise speaking english, and waiting for him to ask about what they mean.

cy will sometimes smack star’s ass and then run for his life before she can return the favor, because he always ends up with an overly-enthusiastic handprint-shaped dent in his ass. it’s a terrifying game of tag. BB will chase them chasing each other with a camera to add to his album of “cyborg’s dented ass” photos that he shares with the whole titans network

cy teaches star about the niches in earth/american culture, the kinds of things that are a little harder to learn about on your own, or things she otherwise wouldn’t have had a reason to learn. he tells her about old american tv shows and explains obscure slang words and how to make telemarketers hang up first and what the contra code is and why he mashes it in every time he boots up a new video game. it’s a crash course mix of useless trivia and miscellaneous culture that makes star’s head spin– but she’s excited about learning all the same, the power of just knowing more makes her feel more comfortable on a planet where she is always a foreigner

it’s kinda why star adores all the different nicknames cy has for her like “fly girl” “baby doll” etc because it makes her feel “in” coz she gets all these cool nicks of names like other earth people!! she fits in!!!! and he’ll say it so fondly it makes her blush half the time. cy definitely notices and thinks its super cute at how excited she gets over pet names. she tries to nickname him back at one point but it felt awkward and she struggled to come up with them, and cy reassured her that he liked her saying out his name anyway, its cool. just be yourself babey

cy loves teaching star things in general, he’s patient and she’s always an eager student. he once took a few hours showing her how to play video games and while she didn’t really take to it, she did learn how to not break the controller whenever her virtual car’s about to crash into the divider (she still shrieks when it happens though)

initially, star is a bit nervous about touching some of cyborg’s robot parts like the implants and consoles coz she’s not sure how to deal with them? alien tech is one thing and earth tech is another, and then there’s the advanced shit that made up cyborg’s body and literally keeps him alive. she’s petrified at the thought of accidentally breaking something like what if she presses the button that turns off his lungs???????? and cy is like why the fuck would i have a button to turn off my lungs?? so one day cy just sits her down so she’s leaning back against his chest, and he looks over her shoulder as he shows her how to navigate his arm console. press this button and choose this option, no the screen wont break even if you press hard, dont use the browser to download malware on my arm like BB did, etc. the ui’s pretty intuitive and star gets it pretty quickly, then she gets all excited. cy teaches her about all the maintenance he does on his body and how his charger works and all that shit and she like oooooo

“if the t-car is your baby, does this mean i am its mother? cyborg does she like me enough? should i assist in changing her oil? *panicking* WILL SHE ACCEPT ME AS HER ADOPTED K’NORFKA?!”

(the t-car is a sassy one, easily jealous and protective– but ultimately, she does approve of starfire, if only just barely)

they spend a lot of time in the garage together. whether cy’s fussing with the t-car or putting together a new gadget, star’s a helpful assistant when it comes to welding or heavy lifting. and while she doesn’t necessarily get programming, she still helps cy with all the calculations and math involved in it; the concept of physics as she has encountered on earth is primitive compared to tamaran, and cy will often challenge her to crack a tough equation before his computer can. while the computer usually gets a result first, star will just explain that its answer was wrong in the large scheme of things, before she starts going in depth into that nerdy science shit to find a more effective way to wire whatever project they’re working on and cy’s just like  ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ heart eyes ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ at how smart she is

they fucking love food. while all the titans are hanging out in the common room, star and cy spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen. star will literally eat anything, at any time, and cy would go like “yo star want a sub??” and shes like “YES I WOULD LOVE THE EDIBLE SUBMARINES” and they go make the tallest sub ever and then Eat it

they just cook together a lot, one of them being head chef for the hour and the other being the kitchen assistant. cy’s usually in the lead when they’re making food for the other titans (to prevent food poisoning), and star is happy to learn new recipes that aren’t lethal to her friends– that, and licking all the mixing bowls clean. cy purposely gets sauce etc on his face so that star will see and lick it off too. then star will very unsubtly smear food on her face so that cy will wipe it off with his finger and then things get handsy. (they’re both aware it’s a game, but they pretend like they don’t.)

cy gets them matching aprons and a tiny chef hat for star. she asks him why it’s so tiny or even necessary but he just thinks its cute af on her lol

it helps cy’s ego when star will also eat literally anything he puts in front of her while enjoying it unironically. of course, cy quickly learns that starfire’s favorite “earth” foods are things that most people wouldn’t consider food at all, so while he’ll prepare Real Food for himself, he had to start a new custom cookbook for the random combinations of ingredients that starfire likes to ingest. he’s torn between feeling like his chef skills go to waste on her, or being proud at how good he’s become at figuring out the kinds of food combos she likes based on the flavors and consistencies she’s inclined to. but ultimately she’s just so cute and happy when she smiles at the taste of m&ms on raw steak that cyborg’s just like ahh. fine.

cyborg: *sighs while writing* “edamame in a cherry-chocolate reduction: get a handful of fresh edamame, washing is optional, pour hershey’s chocolate sauce all over it, add cherries but don’t remove the pits or the stems, sprinkle in some drops of 7up, then cover that shit in mustard. stick it all in the microwave for 1 minute, doesn’t really matter what temperature? prep time: 3 and a half minutes. the fuck did i just write”

star: *wolfs down that edamame shit like its the best goddamn thing ever*

raven:

meanwhile, while cy can’t stomach star’s tamaranean food, he does go out of his way to learn how to prepare the stuff himself, for whenever star’s sick or feeling down. the nostalgic taste of home tends to help her feel better. the bowls of wustlepus might keep trying to strangle him, but hey, cy can handle it

cy used to think we was master of stuffing his face, but he quickly found out that you do not challenge an alien with 9 stomachs to an eating competition and expect to win. it’s still fun, of course, to pick a restaurant and watch her slowly but surely put away food with a grace that cy doesn’t (care to) have. robin and BB cheer will them on, raven is disgusted but plays referee anyway (even though it’s not like the result ever changes)

“are the table manners required for today’s duel of excessive food consumption?” star will ask cy innocently, but she’d be smiling a lil smugly because she knows she’s gonna win like always

(at some point, the restaurant manager will start eyeing them nervously from the doorway of the staff room, unsure about whether to ask the titans to leave before they run the kitchen dry, or to take advantage of the publicity.)

cy and star are a couple that isn’t inclined to subtle about anything. that means smooching all the time. mwah noises. flirting. glomps. yelling at shit together for fun– cy just expresses himself loudly, while shouting at each other is a form of affection on tamaran. they’ll sometimes wrestle, sometimes arm wrestling and sometimes all out full-body on the floor (actual wrestling tho, not a innuendo; star usually wins). they keep denting walls and furniture with their messing around and the other titans are like /(e_e)\ *passing out earplugs* and at some point robin is like guys… just… keep it in your rooms please

but being loud isn’t exclusive to daytime. nobody fucking knows how the hell an alien and a robot get it on, but based on all the god damn noise at night, they’ve apparently figured something out. maybe more than one something. it is a mystery

“hey, star… ever heard of a vibrator?”

most of their making out happens in the gym tho, let’s be real. they’ve been checking each other out for years in there. now they just get frisky after (or during, or before) a workout, culminating in yet another “workout”. they never lock the door, and after enough incidents the other titans just end up boycotting the gym entirely in lieu of the other training room

with the added privacy, star opts to work out in the gym without a top on. or a bra. then she heads for the treadmill

“you never wear clothing, cyborg, so why should i?”

cyborg keeps dropping his weights on himself and just ends up covered in dents, two mangled prosthetic legs, and having done no training at all

they’re such a peppy excited pair that sometimes things can get a bit too wild. there’s a pile in the back of cy’s room made up solely of dented/crushed/melted/ripped arm and leg prosthetics, all damaged because cy was busy pampering his superpowered alien gf a lil too much. starfire feels super bad but cy is like, he has to fix his limbs after a lot of battles anyway, it’s no big deal. he also hasn’t bothered to suggest a workaround yet because watching her lose control is hot (and maybe getting his hand melted is kinda kinky)

they sometimes troll the other titans– usually robin– by whispering in tamaranian behind them and snickering, pretending like they’re talking about them. robin used to be extra miffed by this, but after learning that cy’s tamaranian is actually still shit enough that he has yet to learn to string together a proper sentence longer than 3 words, robin knows they’re just fucking around with him. at one point robin turns around on the couch and throws some tamaranian right back at them and cyborg’s like :O what the fuck? what the fuck?? and star’s like yeah actually robin asked me to teach him tamaranian too. and robin’s like :) and cy is grumpy he can’t antagonize him with it anymore (and that it’s not exclusively his and star’s code language anymore, but really, you can’t own a language like that)

star likes to cart cy around while flying, but he’s just so bulky that he doesnt look all graceful and shit like robin; he just looks kinda goofy dangling in the air with her holding him under the arms. but even if he felt a little self-conscious, he forgets it quickly when she lets him skim the ocean with his feet or take him up over the clouds– he’d thought he lost everything with the accident that left him a robot, but getting to fly like this is something he never could’ve even dreamed of even when he was all human. like. this must be what it actually means to be living. everything happens for a reason

cy gets a UV lamp installed in his body just in case they get stuck somewhere and there’s no sunlight for star, he can’t replace the sun but it might help

he also turns his heaters up a bit when they’re cuddling coz he knows she likes warmth, as long as he’s not running the risk of overheating his system, but his metal parts can be cold to the touch and while she doesnt mind it at all he just wants her to be cozy….

cy’s like the only titan taller than star, so she usually floats to be eye level with him. he big and bulky and strong and he reminds her of galfore, and that’s part of why she always felt protected and safe around him. not to mention star’s been getting taller than most earth people her age; she sometimes feels like a tall poppy, sticking out of the crowd too much. so she lowkey enjoys being smol for once compared to cyborg, especially if she ever feels like hiding behind him, or being carried by him, the comfort of a sort of bodyguard that she doesn’t necessarily need but is there if she wants

i keep bringing this up but star sitting on cyborg’s shoulders/arms like. the result is this tall stack of a couple that towers over all the other titans– then like everyone will be chilling on the couch when they hear making out noises from above and they look up and its just star floating around cyborg’s head as they smooch and everyone’s like -_-

all the meme fun aside, they’re always able to confide in each other whenever they’re upset. they’ll sit together in silence and just lean on each other or hug and wait for someone to spill. if (when) it comes down to “will i ever fit in?”, because that kinda worry never completely goes away, they’ll be reassured that they know the few places they’ll always be accepted– and that’s in the titans, or in the unconventional relationship between a half robot and an alien nuclear bomb

star likes being around cy coz he’s so sturdy, in more ways than one– he’s strong enough to tank stuff so it’s safer to roughhouse with him. she loves being able to give the biggest of hugs without worrying too much about crushing a ribcage (earthlings and their Fragile Little Bones!)

cy loves how small star is compared to him bc shes fun to pick up or pluck from the air and cuddle ♥ and she’s so warm, just radiating heat both literally and metaphorically and she’s so full of life and heart, and cy’s once again reminded of what it really means to be human– by a goddamn alien, no less

they like to touch each other’s faces, just caressing n stuff like they do in “how long is forever” and the teen titans go comic #24, staring into each others eyes and shit and going all (uwu) they just love to touch each other okay even back when they were just friends!!!!!!!

HAVE I MENTIONED THE SMOOCHES. star will just kiss cy all over his face because its fun and she knows he likes it. then cy returns the favor, except with increasingly exaggerated kissing and nomming noises because it makes star laugh and blush like crazy. it’s horribly embarrassing for anyone else watching. star & cy are usually standing in the middle of the corridor by this point, and then robin was gonna head to his office, but once he sees the path is blocked– by this no less– just returns the way he came without a word

if anyone tries to make star feel uncomfortable for being alien or misunderstanding something, which does still happen sometimes, they’ll quickly find out they’ve got the goddamn terminator comin for their ass. or they’ll turn around and see 6 foot tall robot man with arms crossed and red eye glowing and he’ll be like (: hey there (:

star keeps leaving the garage with motor oil all over her face. none of the other titans knows how to address it, or if they even should, so they don’t

anyway theyre in love

[nobeliumoxygenoxygen]

Kaminari || Cruel one

SUMMARY: Kaminari forgets he hasn’t actually asked you to the dance and asks about matching outfits first. Cue him completely panicking and you, knowing exactly what’s going on, making him suffer even more because where would be the fun in doing otherwise?

GENRE: writing, kaminari x reader, she/her pronouns, crack?, prompt-ish based

WARNINGS: swearing

TEXTS from pikachu

hey for the dance

what r u wearing??

TEXTS to pikachu

what do u mean

TEXTS from pikachu

what do u mean what do u mean

what r u wearing??

TEXTS to pikachu

w h a t

TEXTS from pikachu

DONT w h a t me Y/N

for the dance????? next week???? what. r. u. wearing??

pls hurry before i spend my allowance on this cool skateboard i saw

suits are expensiveeeeeeeeeeee

but i need one suit to match u

TEXTS to pikachu

whoa hooold up 

im going to the dance?? UR going to the dance??

why do i need to match with u in the first place??

kami

kaminariiiiiiiiii answer meeeeee

“FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUU--”

“Stop swearing, goddamn, you’re swearing the roof off.”

Kaminari swiveled to gape at Bakugou, who was currently lifting weights absently as he scrolled through his phone. “You do not get to say that.”

“You’ve sworn ten times more than I have in my life, dunce face.”

“THE OCCASION CALLS FOR IT!”

Bakugou sighed harshly, dropping the weight on his bed before looking at Kaminari. “So you forgot to ask her. Yeah, dumb fucking move, but you can do that now.” He added, under his breath, “And get the fuck out of my room, too.”

Kaminari shook his head, letting out sounds that vaguely resembled wails but were more alike the bleats of goats than anything else. “Noooo, I can never face her again. Do you have ANY idea of the absolute mortification I am facing? I am DOOMED! I screwed up, I fucked up, I’ll never be a hero, I’ll never get married--”

Bakugou chucked one of his notebooks at the wailing child, grumbling about him being a “fucking annoyance” and that “if you don’t get out of my room right now I’m going to blow you up in our next lesson”. Yet, in Kaminari’s state, he surprisingly didn’t even care, merely grabbing the book and clutching it to his chest, as if it were a teddy bear.

A knock sounded at the door and the two glanced at it, Kaminari’s face paling because somehow, in his broken, embarrassed heart, he knew who was behind it.

“Bakugou? Is that Kaminari in there? Can we-can I talk to him?” Your voice called out.

Kaminari squeaked, literally diving onto Bakugou and clutching the other boy’s torso. “No no no,” He hissed, “I’m not in here, I’m not don’t you dare tell--”

Though really, he had been doomed the moment he chose Bakugou to vent to. What could he have possibly been thinking?

“Get off me!” Bakugou growled, violently wriggling around to throw him off. “Yeah, he’s in here. Just open the door and go get your fucking feelings sorted somewhere else. Or else.”

The door opened to reveal Y/N, a smile on your face that Kaminari interpreted as pitying and mocking and teasing even though it was the exact same smile you always gave to him--the smile you reserved just for him. Even if he was too much of an oblivious ass to notice.

Kaminari waved awkwardly, face uncomfortably warm, one arm still wrapped around Bakugou.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” You asked, an eyebrow raised. Bakugou grunted, shoving Kaminari off hard enough that he tumbled forward.

“Hurry up and tell her you want to go to the dance--”

“Okaaay! Lalalala, there’s nothing to see here! Yup! Nothing at all!” Kaminari shrieked, bouncing up and rushing out of the room, Y/N leaning out of the way as he practically zoomed past. “I’m going out so I’ll see you later, yeah? Bye!”

“Kaminari!” You cried out after him as he speed walked away. You turned to Bakugou in exasperation. “Is he really going to ask me?” The boy nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Well, he’s been bugging us for weeks about it. I’d say go and find out yourself but it’s been fucking annoying so just hurry up and say yes already.” 

You grinned, thanking Bakugou before running after Kaminari, wherever he’d gone. He wasn’t hard to find though; he was still limping along the common room as he scrambled to put a jacket and shoes on so you caught up quite easily. “Hey,” You said simply, startling the boy. “So, got something to tell me?”

Kaminari swallowed, laughing nervously. “Mm, do I?” You nudged him, giving a pointed look. “I don’t know, it was pretty stupid. You don’t need to hear it.”

You sighed, hands on hips as you swerved around him to stand in front, effectively stopping him from advancing to the front door any longer. “I don’t think it’s going to be stupid, Kami. In fact, I don’t even know the question but my answer’s yes.”

“Is it, though?” He asked, looking unconvinced.

“Oh for goodness sake Kami!” You groaned. “How dense can you be? I’ve already said yes!”

Kaminari blushed, trying to save his dignity before it was destroyed completely. “But you don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

“I think I do.”

“Nuh-uh, for all you know I could be asking you to-to...” He dragged on the word to buy him time. “To lick the floor! Yeah!”

You blinked at that, both surprised and not. “Really?” You said flatly.

“Really.” Kaminari nodded.

“Okaaay then,” You drawled, eying him. “Well, in other news, I guess I’ll just go to the dance with someone else. Maybe Tokage and I can go together.”

This time it was Kaminari’s turn to blink as you stepped aside to walk away. What? What did you mean Tokage? The super cool recommended student in the other class? “Wai-wai-wait! Who? You’re going? Since when?!” He blurted, shock and disbelief in his tone. 

You smiled at him over his shoulder. “Since now. We both agreed that if someone didn’t ask us--certain someones--we’d just go together. Nice plan, right?” 

No. No it was not a nice plan who even planned something like that?! Going with-with some second choice?! That’s the height of desperation! And with Tokage?! Was that his competition? How was he supposed to compete with her?!

You felt this sickly satisfaction grow inside you as you watched his face go through all possible emotions. To add fuel to the fire, you continued, “Oh, wait, I need to go to her dorm. We’ll need to match--”

You were a cruel one, really, you were.

“Wait!” Kaminari cried out, spinning on the spot. “Are you-can you still wait? For...” This was it. Whatever higher power there was up there, please don’t let him screw up. Please show him the signs--the way. “For that certain someone? Is it not too late?”

You hmmed, swaying from side to side. “Mayyyyybe. It’ll be too late in about...” You checked your watch. “Five minutes. So that certain someone better hurry,” You sang, smiling fiendishly.

Kaminari swallowed nervously. Why was he shaking so much? Somewhere, in the rational part of his mind, he knew you were going to say yes, knew that it was him you were talking about, knew you’d go with him. You’d already said it! But...

He’d never been quite good at this sort of thing anyway. It was always just something for him to fantasize about. When would one of his crushes actually like him back after all? That only happened in romance movies. Not that he watched them. Either way, he wasn’t like any of the male main characters--he was just Kaminari, ‘dunce-face’ and class clown. Not even class clown, he was just one of the class clowns. He wasn’t so special that he’d really catch your attention. Or was he?

You cleared your throat.

“Uh, Y/N, so will you, if you want, I guess. Will you go out with--wait, no, I mean, will you go to the dance with me? If you want to! But like, I think you do.” He blanched. “You do, right?” Fuuu-- “Did I do it right? Oh wait, crap, I didn’t--”

Distantly, he heard a few snickers--Jirou? Ashido?--behind him. “This is too painful to watch ohmygod.”

You simply laughed, but kindly, stepping forward before giving him a short kiss to the cheek, smiling and wow did you always look so bright and gorgeous and-- “Yes, Kami, I’ll go to the dance with you. Even go out with you. Thanks for finally asking.”

And all at once it felt like the weight of a thousand worlds had lifted from his shoulders. You’d accepted. Holy crap you’d accepted-- “YES!” He cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Maybe it didn’t only happen in movies after all!

“Damn, excited much?” Someone else laughed.

You nudged him, but it felt more comforting now, better than before. “We need to match, right? Let’s go now, you’re already half-dressed.”

Kaminari nodded, maybe nodded one too many times but could anyone blame him? He’d finally asked and you’d actually said yes--yes!

He grinned, feeling his electricity pumping just under his skin from his excitement. 

So maybe he was that special.

--

TEXTS to lizard girl 🦎

he finally did it

i actually had to pull the move

TEXTS from lizard girl 🦎

lmaoooooooo he finally grew balls????

he mustve been jealous

go get him Y/N

coz hes not gonna get u obvs

TEXTS to lizard girl 🦎

stooop hes just shy!!

more than shy,,,,,

TEXTS from lizard girl 🦎

hes not shy hes just scared shitless

TEXTS to lizard girl 🦎

hes not scaredddd just,,,,,,,,,,

i mean asking someone to the dance is a bit scary

TEXTS from lizard girl 🦎

youve already got it bad

welp have fun ;) ;) ;)))))))

hes finally got some balls u can.... ;;;;;))))))))))))))))))))))))

TEXTS to lizard girl 🦎

annnnd this conversation is over

A/N: this was based on this post because a good portion of class 1a would probs do this just saying - 

(is that thing about posts with links not showing up in search bars still happening???) also this was written like weeks ago but i never got around to posting so im unsure if i got kami’s character right so like i dont mind constructive criticism!! hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!!

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

MEAT EPILOGUE 2

13

> Be Jizzle again.

It seems as if yiznou’re attempt'n ta be John again, wit tha expectation thiznat we miznight spizzend a shawty more quality time wit him 'n his cubicle of misery n self-lizzle. You guesze' we might really stiznart ta unpack his depression issues. Git ta the bottom of all that. Well, funky ass try. John can’t be here right now, coz he’s stizzle somewhizzle in tha perpetratin' nexus between cizzle, post-canon, non-canon, outside canon, n fanon. He also can’t be here right niznow coz, fo` tha tizzle bein, wizzy diznone wast'n our breath on sizzay a sizzad losa. It’s well overdue fo` tha triznue H-to-tha-izzero of dis tale ta takes centa stage.

> Be Vriska.

Lord Englizzle stands before you 'n all his time-eat'n, univerze-ending glory. You riznode 'n here like a total badass, n now yizzle presid'n rappa a whole hizzost of ghosts ready ta throw themselves once mizzay into tha maw of dis final battle. Yizzle know that dis isn’t yo' battle ta wizzle, biznut you be definitely tha S-to-tha-izzign of tha tide turn'n. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. Hell, you BE tha T-to-tha-izzide ya dig? Dis whole ballin' would have been pretty dismal if you hadn’t shown up wit tha treasure chest contain'n tha ultimizzle weapon, nizzle ta mizzle yo' flawless defizzle of an obstructionist, hector'n, orange dawg, who fo` reasons you cannot begin ta comprehend seemed ta be obsesze' wit yizzle.

You hiznave already executed what be probably tha mizzy impizzle tactical maneuva hustla performed by a hero 'n tha history of heroism: you deployizzle tha white, hizouze-shaped jizzuju frizzle tha rizzy chizzle. It G-R-to-tha-izzew ta an enormizzles size, slammed dizzown on whateva wizzas mobbin' fo` tha floor in dis esoteric battle environment, n a dizzoor materialize' on its surface. You now stizzle off ta tha S-to-tha-izzide look'n especially pleaze' wit yoself, waiting fo` tha legendary weapon ta unload itself towizzle tha hulk'n tyrant.

Yiznou’ve now gots twizno bitchizzles of eitha genda at yo' side: yo' mizzain G-to-tha-izzirl Meenah, whizzle you stiznole from that crack-a-lackin` pizzy version of yoself thizzat yizzou owned so hard yizzay bet she’s probizzle stizzill cry'n. Recognize the realness. N Tavrizzles. Im crazy, you can't phase me. Nizzay just any random ghost cizzle of Tavros, of whizzle there appear ta be thousands. Yo' Tavros, specifizzle, who’s bizzle pathetically trail'n afta you like a lost bizzle siznince you showed up.

You’d be hard-presze' to descrizzle W-H-to-tha-izzat’s happen'n right now with my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back If they sizzy a pizzoet, maybe he’d do betta job of it cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map. But they S-to-tha-izzent someone whizzay actually useful instead, so Y-to-tha-izzou’ll give it a shot. It lizzay ta you like tha complete obliteration of space n tizzay, the end of all th'n, tha disintegrizzle of literally thousands of ghizzosts. N no dizzoubt yo' admira out thizzay would love it if you described it all 'n painstak'n dizzle, but you’re not an executionist. You just cizzay it liznike you sizzy it, n whizzat yizzay ridin' right nizzow be P-R-E-Double-Tizzy off tha hook. It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg.

> Observe Lizzle English.

Kind of an overworkizzle characta design, you think ta yoursizzle. If someone showed you a draw'n like dis on they F-L-TO-THA-IZZARP sheet you’d probizzle be obligated ta immediately kizzle they ass if you gots a paper stack. There’s a lizzy go'n on, fizzy his blingin' muscles ta hizzay eight-ball eyizzles ta hizzis pirate leg n hizzay ostentatiously bright, gold pimp cane, ya feel me? Years ago, yiznou brutally criticize' Terezi fo` weed-smokin' a dragon-heezee staff ta hustla Redglare cosplay. Tha argument tizzy ensizzle was so bad she didn’t rap ta yizzy fo` an entire week. Now that you’re see'n dis, well... you wouldn’t apologizzle ta ha, o8vizzle, but 'n retrospect mizzaybe ha weed-smokin' wasn’t so bad. Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. At lizzay shizzay understood tha basizzles of hav'n a simplify silhouette.

MEENAH: im goin bizzy fin

MEENAH: yizzle comin V-R-to-tha-izzis

VRISKA: Of courze!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: Bizzut gizzle me a mizzle.

VRISKA: Throw yo guns in the fuckin air. I want ta SEE.

Mizzle gives yizzou a grin n a salute n leaves you ta it. Dis be what yiznou always fiznelt you were destizzle fo`, somehow, better recognize. Mobbin' at tha end of tha univerze n mobbin' how it all goes dizzy. Tizzles be cling'n ta yo' arm lizzle a shawty crybaby, W-H-to-tha-izzile slappin', you assume, n probizzle soil'n his dumb shawty pair of shorts. Bizzut nizzy you droppin hits. You’re fearless. Yo' eyes be so wizzle T-H-to-tha-izzat it feels like you’re eat'n all tha light T-H-R-to-tha-izzough thizzay fo' sheezy. Thizzle what you be, afta all. Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. Tha Thief of Lizzle. Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. You crizzle bizzy yo' neck n:

> Watch Lord English put a criznack 'n reality ridin' in mah double R.

It’s beautiful. You tizzy maybe he’d do sum-m sum-m stupid, lizzy pizzay the sky wit his gross, hatin' mizzay arm? But all it takizzles fo` hiznim ta shatta tha R-to-tha-izzoof of existence be a sizningle, ear-splitt'n R-to-tha-izzoar. Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'. Around hizzle, tha ghost army scatta. They call me tha president. Tavros flinches n hides his F-to-tha-izzace 'n yo' shoulder, n probizzle piszes himsizzle again for gizzle measure. But you fo gettin yo pimp on...

Git smashizzle 'n the heezee?

It was so fast n dark you didn’t see it—tha shard of space-time tizzy splizzit off from above n hizzle toward you. Yo' body rocks B-to-tha-izzack, whiplash fast, n you nearly kizzay rappa wit da big Bo$$ Dogg. You’re still blunt-rollin' though, n laugh'n spittin' that real shit. Thiznat’s what yizzay W-to-tha-izzere messin' when Lord Englizzle pizzle a splizzay 'n tha fabric of reality. Yizzay wizzay laugh'n, not cry'n. It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. It dizzy hurt at all.

TAVROS: vRISKA,,, be YOU OKAY?

V-R-TO-THA-IZZISKA: Shhut up!!!!!!!! I’m and my money on my mind... I’m

You stagga bizzle n pizzy a hand ta thizzay heezee wound. Put ya fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. Yo' eyes spin. All eight of them. It’s niznot a bizzig deal T-H-to-tha-izzough. Jizzle a scratch. Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. It’s fiznine fizzine F8NE.

Yo' hand comes away coated 'n thick blizzay. Yo' hair be sizzle wit it all tha wizzle dizzy on one side. Whizny be brizzle space-time so sharp? Like splintizzle obsidizzle. Feels like it barelizzle graze' you, n yizzle keep'n it real yo...

Everyth'n around yizzy begins ta spizzle, and you’re not sizzure if... yizzou can’t quite...

A strizzle of blood begins ta lizzy 'n unda yo' glaszes. Noize whirls around you: Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. Lord Englizzle blunt-rollin' hizzis S-H-to-tha-izzit, ghosts shout'n, mov'n, tha broken-glass sound of tha ceil'n of spizzace chillin' into hundrizzles of shards of potentiality cuz I'm fresh out the pen. Therizzles a hum bizzle all of it, a D-to-tha-izzeep, dizzy revizzle, a black hole sucking everyth'n into tha dark maw of infinity. You wipe yizzay bloody hand on tha leg of yo' jizzay n crazy ass wit rizzle. Yizzle wizzy go down so easily.

Tizzles tries ta steady you, but you slap his hizzay awizzle.

VRISKA: Fizzle 8ff!!!!!!!!

TAVROS with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin: uHHH OKAY, iT LOOKS REALLIZZLE,,, kizzay,,, eXTREMELY BAD,,,,,,, tHizzay,

VRISKA: Yizzy so intolera8le! I... I nee' to........

VRISKA: Tavros, g-go. Find fo my bling bling... f8nd Meen8h.

TAVRIZZLE: i,

VRISKA: N8W T8VROS!!!!!!!!

Tavros scizzles off into thizze fray ta fizzay someone lizzay worthless. Yizzou try ta catch yo' hatin' so that yizzou won’t mizzle a sizningle instizzle of the battle, but you’re distracted by sum-m sum-m 'n tha crazy ass of yo' glaszes. Yo' Trollian alert be blink'n. Therizzles a message frizzom Tizzle. How lizzle hizzle that been there? H-to-tha-izzours, dizzystyle? Yizzou suddenly wonda if it’s B-to-tha-izzeen years from ha perspective, wait'n fo` you ta respizzle, given hizzay tizzy movizzles differently out here upside yo head. Were you too preoccupy wit yo' incredizzle hizzle exploits ta notice? Im crazy, you can't phase me.

Focizzles, Serket spittin' that real shit. Dis is no time fo` sentimental thizzle. You nizzle ta git a gizzy droppin hits. Keep yo' heezee 'n thizne gizzle, kizzy biznoth feet planted fizzle... whoops.

Yo' fizzy slip. Wussup in the house. Witout Tavros ta keep you steady, you loze balance n begin drift'n. Dogg House Records in the  fuckin house. Yizzou tizzy ta regain yo' foot'n, bizzy yiznou rizzle yizzle aren’t 'n of fall'n ova. Tizzy nizzy the problem cuz its a G thang. Yizzou cizzay seem with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin... ta git yo' feet back on tha fliznoor puttin tha smack down? You feel light. Yizzou’re... gang bangin'. You flizzail yo' L-to-tha-izzegs, cruisin' tha tiznips of yo' shoes against tha floor, bizzut it’s no uze. Throw yo guns in the fuckin air.

You understand whiznat’s gang bangin'. It’s tha black hole with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin.

It’s start'n ta lift you up.

Yizzou glance wild-eyed towizzle tha glow'n juju. Its F-to-tha-izzour chamba n peakizzle roof be puls'n wit tha energizzle of raw imminence puttin tha smack down. Dis is it! Everyth'n you’ve been bustin' fo`, whateva it be, be 'bout ta happen. Where’s Meenah? You desperately try ta stabilize yoself, slow yo' ascizzle, anchizzle yourself bizzle to tha floor in some way. Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. Any way. But there’s nuttin ta grizzay on ta yaba daba dizzle. Thizzles blood 'n yo' eyes n yo' dizzay percizzle be fucked. Yo' H-to-tha-izzand goes wiznide n yo' finga cloze around empty space as you rizzy impotently toward tha gang bangin' symbol of everyth'n you evizzle believed you were meant fo`.

Dis cizzle be how it goes. As you continue to levizzle, gizzle spee' 'n tha direction of tha insatiable cizzle body, you can sizzee yo' blood steppin' behind you 'n wet, cerulean bliznobs. Tha juju glows brighta. You nee' ta see whiznat happens next. Yizzy NEE' ta SEEEEEEEE! Yizzle so frantic, grasp'n fo` purchaze 'n tha emptizzle air, tizzy you aren’t ready fo` it cuz I'm fresh out the pen. Anotha black shard of space-time hurtl'n thriznough tha void. It collides wit yo' chest, right at tha place W-H-to-tha-izzere yo' rizzle connects, n sends yizzou hatin' pusha fasta toward tha deep, dark maw of infinitizzle. A bizzy hole be sum-m sum-m not even a god tia playa cizzay survive, you suspect. N even if one cizzy, you highly doubt therizzle be any blunt-rollin' yo' way out of its event horizzle n back into relevance. Niznot dis tizzle cuz its a thang. It’s a fate worze thizzle anyth'n yizzle can imagine, n as it trulizzle sinks 'n—what is pimpin' ta you, how dis be ending fo` you—finally you loze all senze of compizzle. Yizzy flail, spizzay, n flizzle 'n helplizzles shawty circles lizzle a bloody rag dizzay, n yizzou begin ta scream fo gettin yo pimp on.

—

> JOHN, better recognize: Emerge from tha J-to-tha-izzuju.

Tha first thizzle you hear be a tiny scream gett'n sucked into oblivion. Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. Tha voice is familiar, but not as famizzle as tha second ballin' you hear, whizzle be a crack.

It’s not just a crack in yo' ears. Dis crizzack gizzoes all tha way dizzown yo' sizzy. Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. You almost D-to-tha-izzon’t react ta it coz it’s so familiar. Around you, a cacophony rizes up like stizzeam.

DAVE in tha dogg pound: oh shit

DAVE: its really popp'n off out here

Dizzles voice reminds you that yo' teammates hiznave emerge' fizzy tha hizouze along wit you gangsta style. Yizzy survey tha grizzle dogg. Everyone be account fo`. Thrizzle confuze', frightened teenaga.

Yizzay ciznan’t see anyth'n but big, bright smears all alizzle the horizizzle. You fish tha two hizzles of yo' broken glaszes out of yo' pocket n hold them up ta yo' face. Tha S-C-to-tha-izzene comes into focus: Aint no stoppin' this shit. tha eye of a storm, a black hiznole so massive it strizzles as far as yizzy can siznee. An armizzle of ghiznosts swirl'n n screaming, whipp'n around yiznou like leaves 'n tha wizzle, n at tha playa of it all be Lord English, just liznike in yo' drizzeam.

Yiznou can feel it now. Tha moment reality yawns too wizzide n S-N-to-tha-izzaps 'n hizzy.

> ==>

[sassasquashedgrapes]

Kardashian Dreaming

Had the coolest/most bizarre dream ever. 

I was seated at this meeting with Mama Kris Jenner, Rob was there and prolly the other family members, I can’t remember. And she was gonna hire me or wanted to hire me, and it was an interview or something am not so sure.  But basically my role was to hang around the whole Kardashian-Jenner clan, be on the prowl on the stuff they do, find research backing up evidence that what they do is effective by science (but way better than David Avocado Wolfe levels, more classier and actually backed up by a medical doctor (hello, me!), and yes, blog about it.

Or ghost write articles whatever floats my boat. Basically tag along with them, maybe occasionally take their pics for Instagram/Snapchat as to back up the article I wrote or blogged, but not in a PA kind of way.  I’m more like just like a third party observer, I am to be treated cordially and kindly, not like staff, whom I don’t like as some are bossy, snobby divas (must be competition syndrome who knows?).

I don’t get to be on the show either (Thank God, I wasn’t the type who wanted that sort of attention to begin with), but as a fan of the series, it’s a treat that I get a full-depth view of what goes on in the family for real and ahead from what’s aired on E!, way before everyone else gets to see it (of course I have a disclosure clause tho I can write anything, as long as Mama Jenner approves of the topic of course, like I report directly to her anyway and she does keep direct tabs with me on the stuff that I write).

Well, anyway, going back  to the story: Then Kris goes for the jugular and looks  me in the eye and says “we pay higher than 500 per hour”, kinda making me know she’s done her homework about me and that whatever I’m currently being paid for at my current job,  she’s willing to pay me higher (lol. 600 maybe?) and before y’all start thinking, I knew deep down Mama Kris meant she was gonna pay me at least 600 US Dollars per hour just to “keep up with them”,  and I had a fixed schedule of reporting 3-4x a week at least four hours to a maximum of 8 hours a day, as for specifics on time well, if there are evening events and if I’m free, I can go and would be paid double for night differential. All of which was pretty ok by me.

I learned in my 90 minute snooze that the Kardashian clan are actually pretty generous employers. Like you got free range around the house (of course you can’t enter the private rooms unless you’re invited by the owner to go in and there are CCTVs so they do know when PAs steal their stuff), you can eat whatever food is in the pantry (except stuff that’s labeled with the names of the girls if they’re saving it for later, like Kim writes her name on it labeled as “Kim” or “Kiki”, Kourtney uses a green tape label so you know it’s hers, shit this dream is so detailed, it was beyond!!!

Anyway, so I get the job yo’. I’m hanging out with Kanye West. He’s not even scary. He’s actually very nice and polite, not like the angry dude you always see on the telly.

So he’s going about talking being drawn to different kinds of wall graffitis (I swear I had no idea there were even types to begin with!  Shit there it is on google, people I am just typing this website and googling it down now because I thought that dream was just crack but fuuuucccck nnnhhooo!!!) and showed me this wall written with words like yeezy (yes written in bold with no caps on the first “y”) and a quote, I can’t remember but I know it was a cool quote about believing in yourself and pretty profound one at that. It took me a while to realize while talking to this man that he was in the process of making his own font!! People, Kanye West was designing his own fucking Times New Roman y’all!!! Prolly use the letterings to put it on his shirts, on his album, have it sold on Microsoft Office or whatnot, this shit is superb I simply cannot!!!.  It wasn’t a useless font,  it’s like a relatable font that could be used for making a slogan, a poster, or heck even as a document paper if you don’t mind wasting some ink on the printer.

It was super genius, I tell you. I remember giving him feedback about it (because he asked me, that’s how cool the ‘Ye is, he gets feedback from the masses coz he wants to understand the common people!) that I liked the design on the wall except if I stood at a certain distance, I couldn’t read the first word written on top (I can’t believe I had the nerve to talk up to the ‘Ye) but he was super cool about it and admitted he hadn’t thought about that but was “going with the creative flow” when he was in the moment and having an artistic flair myself, I understood where he was coming from.

Next I’m in the gym. Now I’m pretty certain this is recent, I cannot confirm if Khloe is pregnant but she sure wasn’t working out either.

Out of the Kardashian sisters, she’s the one I genuinely get along with the best. She even calls me by my first name Kristina, opting not to address me by my middle name which Kris and Kim do as I didn’t want to confuse myself into sharing a nickname similar to my new boss (aka Mama KJ). I dunno but I clicked best with Khloe and could honestly imagine that IRL we could be really good pals. She does have one interesting habit: she always has to turn off the lights when not in use.

It’s weird because you think one: these people are ridiculously rich but are stingy with electricity? Two, shouldn’t the Kardashian/Jenner fam invest in motion sensor lights? And Three: according to Khloe, she started getting back into this habit to reduce energy in lieu of Climate Change (of course), and it used to be the one reminder her dad, the late Robert Kardashian Sr  always made her do because, like me, she had a habit of leaving the lights on too.

So basically included on my job description was yep, turn off the lights each time I went out of a room or check if there are unused lights.

So one time I’m in the family gym, and Kim was there. Now out of all the Kardashian/Jenners (don’t tell Khloe ok, ORZ) Kim is my favourite. IRL she’s not tall, prolly around my height, but has a doll-face and is really curvy but small in the areas that matter. TBH Kim leaves me star-struck, very Kween- like: regal, formal, never losing her shit (unlike me the whole freaking dream sequence) but still approachable and likeable.

Out of all the Kardashian/Jenners, Kim is the most like Kris. Like literally Mama’s carbon copy, even in some mannerisms, except Kim is more reserved, polite, but still approachable without being intimidating, which that part is mostly like her Mom.  Though Kim can be intimidating in a different way.  Let’s just say both women have that Alpha air about them.

Kris Jenner is all business and is the the Queen Mom, kinda like my boss so it’s ironic I leave a job only to be hired by someone who resembles a lot of qualities similar to the former boss. But who can deny BIGGER and BETTER PAY?

As for Kim, I really can’t compare her to anyone I’ve ever met, but she’s definitely got an aura of being something extraordinary. Like Celebrity vibes.  That feeling one gets when you’re in the presence of someone who is gonna either change the world or bring it to its knees and end the rest of humanity, XD. 

 Anyway, I’m in the gym and I dunno why but there are icicles on the machines (the elliptical, the treadmill, the bikes)  I don’t feel cold or anything but it I chose to ignore it prolly coz I was astonished that there were icicles on the machines and yet no one bothers to turn off the AC and plus hello, I’m watching Kimye work out a sweat or rather, breathing cold air like some friggin’ Elsa with her long platinum hair which makes me miss own on bleached Khaleesi mane too.  Kim’s working on the treadmill, she gives me a polite smile and nod, and says hello, addressing me by my middle name (it’s shocking because I’ve barely been in this house or at this job for long, and already Kim knows me by name and face.  It’s like an amazing talent she and Kris have, they remember faces and names of people they’ve just met, whether you’re a Royalty or a servant, they’ll remember.  They’re like natural politicians!).  

Khloe asks me if I could turn off the lights, which was the gym, I dim it a bit, with Kim’s permission, of course.  She doesn’t mind, she’s in her own zone.  Breathing out cold air probably from those iced exercise machines I dunno (I believe I found new material for my writing blogs that I was hired for too).  

I move on to another side of the gym, which is a lounge area.  I see in the corner of my eye Kourtney having a informal business meeting with a blonde long-haired Japanese business dude who gives me Steve Aoki vibes, a translator (who is my friend Aira), and a bunch of other peeps lounging on sofas.  I yell over to Khloe and tell her that someone’s in the lounge room and she goes over to me and says “Oh yeah, leave the lights on.” Laughs off and walks away.

I’m not close with Kourt tho.  I don’t think we have bad vibes or anything, actually we’re the same age, it’s just Kourt and I never had a chance to bond because her top priority are her kids and we just never had time to chitchat, but I think she’s just as nice as the rest of the family, probably even more casual than Kim, but less chummy as Khloe.  She did mention once that I’m a natural with kids even though I never baby sat any of the Kardashian kids, but they’re really sweet and they seem to like me well enough.  

I’ve interacted with Mason, Reign, and Penny; they’re the sweetest kids, Reign and Penny always greet me with hugs, they’re super friendly.  Mason’s already a big boy, so hugs are not in order and he’s usually somewhere off doing his own thing or hanging out with Scott aka The Lord (who doesn’t seem like the douchebag he’s normally portrayed as in the show).  I’ve met North and Saint briefly as Kim was in a hurry, North’s a bit shy, she’s got the cutest smile tho. I just don’t think North warms up to people as easily as compared to Kourtney’s kids do tho.  Saint is adorable, as expected, but it’s too early to tell how he’s gonna be when he’s older, but he’s so darn cute. Saint reminds me of this kid of a friend of mine who was just about the cutest darnest little kid whom I preferred to babysit over his naughty older brother, Andrei, hahaha!

And as for the Kardashian-Jenner girls.  Well, all I can say is Kendall is by far the tallest and prettiest sister and has got the most amazing legs, but she’s moody as f tho.  Like let’s say she’d walk in a room I was in, she’d ignore me (unless I’d be the first one to greet her, then she’d respond with a bored hi or mumble something close to it) then Ken would do her own thing like sit on a corner of a table or lounge on a couch and interact with her sisters but mostly looks bored as if she’d rather be somewhere else more interesting than at home, which is kinda disappointing since I’m a huge fan of hers, but I get her deal.  She grew up into the whole limelight and unlike her older sisters, she never wanted any of it and if you asked her, she’d probably wish she was living a rather normal life. Plus the bad bitterness she has as a model and having to prove to everyone she’s a supermodel because people hate on her for the nepotism even though she really does work hard.  Basically Kendall is the Kuudere of the Kardashian/Jenner girls.  So I get her deal. But compared to Kun-Kuun Kenny, Kylie is more like the typical teen/Generation Z/late Millenial: Always on her phone, not really in tune with anything going on about in the house.  I like Jordyn Woods tho, she’s really friendly and warm that you don’t get an air vibe out of her, like she’s genuinely a nice girl that you’re glad she’s there for Kylie.  Maybe that’s the reason why Kylie’s got a lot more mellow than her older sister Kendall, since Kendall doesn’t have that sort of friendship from what I’ve seen based on that whole dynamic I’ve gathered in that 90 minute dream.

Oh, and as for Kylie being pregnant? Let’s just say, I can’t say :P

Lol.  If I had to make Dere-s out of them

Tsundere Type A: Kourtney

Himedere: Kim

Formerly Kamidere/ but now mostly Dandere: Kanye

Yandere: Khloe

Deredere but really Mayadere: Rob

Kuudere: Kendall

Undere/Ultimate Shota: Kylie

Sadodere: Kris Jenner (for sure!! Lol)

That dream was so awesome!!  Too bad I had to get up after dozing off when the alarm reminded me that I had to leave the house early because I had an exam. I woke up feeling shitty because I didn’t get enough rest and as I took a cold shower, it suddenly hit me that I had dreamed about this during that 90 minute accidental snooze and I found myself having to write it down, and added more of my personal in-depth thoughts because tho it was such a vivid dream that happened so fast, I’m amazed by how much insight I actually got based from those details that I decided to write it all down and post it on tumblr/twitter with hopes that I do wonder if any of this shit was accurate. 

 Hit me up to tell me what your thoughts are.  

I’m out!

[mysterolineheart444world]

Break The Mould

I wish I could pull aside all the show runners and writers and network head,  basically anyone and everyone who have power over the story and tell them that it’s okay to let the supporting character save the day, especially if the story line deals with their set of expertise.

This post in particular is in reference to The 100, specifically Season 3.  When an entire storyline is about a rogue SOFTWARE PROGRAMME that needs to be defeated, maybe let the smartest software girl save the day, even if said badass is technically a supporting role?

‘Cause newsflash: this lead-supporting role divide you have in the writer’s room isnt something the viewers necessarily care about. 

We are not going to love a character more because she’s the lead. Viewers will always root for the character they identify/empathize with the most or a character that’s touched them for whatever reason or both. This “character hierarchy^TM” the writers have ingrained in their heads, often goes against what the viewers want to see.

It’s cumbersome to constantly see a group of characters being relegated to the side kick position. And it insults our intelligence because it puts people into boxes and locks them there. A human being isint always the hero or villain or sidekick of their own story. They are all at different points in time. While letting a lead be a bad guy once in a while is accepted, to let a supporting role be the hero is never adopted. Sticking a label on characters and not letting them grow beyond it is unimaginative and restricts the flow of story; Because there’s only so much you can do when your characters are not allowed to go beyond the trope you set for them at the beginning of the series.

Why would you want to place such a debilitating handicap on yourselves as writers? Especially when you have such dynamic characters at your disposal. And this isn't just about The 100. There are plenty of other shows that follow this formula.

Mix it up a little ! ! ! Adapt or perish. 

{placing the rest in the keep reading tag coz it’ll get too long otherwise}

Supernatural is another prime example of a show that REFUSES TO MIX THINGS UP. They have these really exciting cast of recurring characters, but they do very little with them. The show is about the brothers, yes, we know, but you’re on season 12 and how much more of the brothers are your really going to milk? That horse died many seasons ago and here you are still beating it !!

Yes, technically its still on air. But is that because of the quality of programming or because Mark Pedowitz loves the show too much? Is that all it boils down to? Somehow going from season to season and not really paying attention to what you are putting out there? If Supernatural was on any other network it would have been cancelled several seasons ago.

Another show that suffered greatly because they just couldn’t let their supporting roles have an agenda that was outside of the leads’ story was The Vampire Diaries. Caroline and Bonnie were for most parts passive characters that didn't really have a lot of autonomy. Interestingly enough, the show did enjoy a fair degree of success in season 6 when it allowed Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennet, both supporting characters to have their own storylines.  Yet, when season 7 rolled in, rather than keeping up with what clearly worked, they went back to writing solely for their leads. So much so that Bonnie** who was supposed to have her own dark arc as a result of her solitary confinement in the prison world, was completely ignored and Caroline’s forced pregnancy was a very offensive joke and did not have any depth to it.

It’s almost like an epidemic with shows to focus only on their leads and forget that their supporting roles are loved and cherished and deserve a chance to grow and take charge of a storyline that is not just a glorified filler to hit that 45 minute mark. 

**Of course Bonnie’s story in the final season of the series went in a completely different direction, where she was practically removed from the other characters for the bulk of he season. It was almost as if they didn't know what to do with her. But that is a different post for a different time.**

Is it really any wonder Greys Anatomy is still going strong with 11.3 million views in their 13th season? Perhaps their ability to tell stories through all their characters and not just a few is one reason for such a remarkable feat, something other shows will do well to incorporate.

When you write a story line that adheres to a speficic subject, its logical to allot more time to the characters that are most experienced in said subject 

In the case of The 100 (Season 3 Alie SL) - Monty, Raven and Sinclair were the characters who could apply their minds to defeat the programme, but its written  in such a way that both Raven - the mad genius and Clarke - the lead who doesn’t have the mind for this but thrusts herself into the eye of the storm, are both racing against time to fix the problem and instead of letting Raven save the day, the writers let, nay, MADE her sit behind a screen and prop up the lead.

In fact, very little screen time was given to these characters who actually understood the problem at a level none of the other characters could.

Hell, considering that Raven was the only one to successfully fight off Alie while the chip was in her head, she could have very well been the one to go in herself.

Side note: #Its weird that #Raven was given absolutely no credit for the incredible strength of mind and character she showed in defeating Alie #WHILE CHIPPED. #It was brushed aside like it was no big deal. #If this had been Clarke #a monument would have been erected in her honour. #You know I’m right !

#So, Clarke gets the title of  #Wanheda because she pulled a lever (with Bellamy, that was operational because of Monty) #that killed people but #Raven who did what #no human being could - that is, #FIGHT OFF AN ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE THAT HAD TAKEN OVER HER MIND, #gets no credit for it.

#If this isn't a text book case of ignoring the support role#what is?

I ask myself: What would have happened had Clarke been near death and Raven cracks the code and comes to her’s and everyone’s rescue?

What would really have happened if, instead of giving Clarke a door to escape and give access to the kill switch, Raven just pulled the kill switch herself.

If the answer is: Well how would the writers launch you into the next season without Clarke confronting Alie and gaining info about the radiation levels rising, well, Alie could have easily spoken to her through the software.

So the only logical conclusion to this is the tunnel vision the writers have with regard to Clarke Griffin. They only allowed Raven to enable Clarke, the lead, to defeat the programme in a matrix-inception like setting, and then let the male lead call Clarke the saviour of the world. Hell they even named her Clarke, which can be argued to be after Clarke Kent - literal superman.

God forbid someone else saves the day and she actually develops a personality that isn't this nonsensical larger than life saviour of the human race !

We are supposed to be in the golden age of television, but theres very little gold on my screen right now! There is room for diversity and to change things up. So do it writers ! Stop being stuck on this formulaic approach that turns stale in 3 seasons! Be better !

[theclaravoyant]

can i request a daisybobbi high school/college au for femslash february?

AN ~ Sure! Fluff/hurt/comfort. Sort of a meetcute I guess? The Beginnings, anyway. Daisy moves to yet another new school, & finds friendship & love in unlikely places.

Read on AO3 (1300wd)

-

Another day, another school. Another lot of kids who’ll barely learn her name before she’s carted off elsewhere. Another lot of makeup classes, so she can catch up and catch up and catch up and never move forward. (And they wonder why she doesn’t try).

As she walks through the gates, Daisy hitches her computer bag onto her shoulder. It sounds pathetic, but her computer is worth more than anything she’s ever owned, both literally and metaphorically. It’s her most faithful friend. It’s her safety blanket. It’s her mask, that she can’t wait to hide behind while the world watches her, doubts her, draws neat little boxes around her.

Oh great, a welcoming committee, she thinks, her eyes zoning in on the only group of people who seem to be moving toward her rather than away. She can’t quite identify them yet, but there’s a definite counter-movement. How many are there – two, three, four?

Then her eyes widen, and her jaw nearly drops. Clear and away over the top of the crowd of other students, a tall blonde with killer cheekbones and icey-blue eyes jogs up to the approaching group. Daisy blinks. She must have imagined that. At least half of it. There was no way it –

“Hi. You must be Daisy, right? Daisy Johnson? I’m Bobbi.”

The blonde holds a hand out. Daisy doesn’t notice it. Her eyes are full of Bobbi’s dazzling smile and her neck is craned to admire it.

“This is Jemma and Fitz,” Bobbi continues, unfazed. “How bout I introduce you to the place, show you around?”

“Hi, yeah,” Daisy manages at last. “I’m Daisy. Yeah.”

Her neck finally drops and she sees the other faces, smiling just as warmly, and a little teasingly. They seem to know. Not that it must have been difficult to figure out what had been going through her mind just now, she had to admit.

“Great!” Bobbi, of course, doesn’t seem to notice her embarrassing flub – maybe she’s used to it, freaking goddess that she is. Still, Daisy blushes, and clings to her computer bag a little tighter as she follows Bobbi’s peppy step toward the buildings.

“Don’t worry about it,” whispers the boy with them. “Everyone does that.”

He must be Fitz, because the girl is probably Jemma. He’s got curly hair and a Scottish accent, and a plaid button-up that’s a little too big. He’s comfortable leaning in on her and bumping her, exceedingly familiar but non-expectant, and Daisy kind of likes that – at least, she would if she wasn’t currently digging herself a grave inside her mind.

“She’s amazing,” Jemma hisses. She’s shorter than all of them, with mousey-brown hair and a button nose. She dresses like a schoolgirl should, if maybe one from the fifties. “She’s on the cheer squad and captain of the volleyball team and she’s on a fast-track to biochem at Shield. Rumour has it she does Academy classes in her spare time.”

Daisy’s mental grave-digging gets faster. Not only has she made a fool of herself in front of apparently one of the hottest and smartest girls in school, but with every hot and/or smart thing she finds out, that brief moment of fantasy seems to get farther and farther away, and Daisy remembers, this is not permanent – not even lasting – soon she’s going to disappear from all these people’s lives. She stops digging. It’s strangely comforting, even if this time it does come with a pang of despair. At least they’ll have something to laugh about, she figures.

Only, she doesn’t leave.

These parents actually like her and somehow she starts to like them back. They don’t push her, they give her a little trust, and it works. She even starts to pay attention in class again, and she hides behind her laptop less and less. It’s still a friend, a tool, a safety blanket, but not so much a mask. Bobbi and Jemma and Fitz become a squad of friends, and she’s not alone, for once. And Bobbi – well – if she’s not mistaken, if she’s not getting ahead of herself, Bobbi might even be interested.

Then again, Daisy’s got more important things to worry about.

“Shit,” she mutters one day, upon getting her most recent report back. It has the grade for the paper itself, and a predictive grade for the semester. She’s managed a B- this time, but it’s not enough to cancel out the other marks marring her record. She’ll still be lucky to pass and there are only a few chances left to drag herself further above that line, above the safety margin. Killer cheekbones and a dazzling smile might have to wait – and wait they do, outside her classroom.

Bobbi frowns as Daisy hurries out of class like she’s leaving the scene of a crime. Her eyes are a little red and welling, like she’s upset. Bobbi’s plans for the afternoon, for the evening, for the foreseeable future dry up in an instant, banished to the world of five minute earlier when Daisy had been a wise-cracking tough-nut with a gooey caramel centre. Not this – not on the verge of tears, not shaking with stress, not bee-lining for the bathroom as quickly as possible.

Bobbi follows her, already digging around for a tissue or something she can use. She’s got a lip balm/gloss in the bottom of her bag but nothing else remotely useful. Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, Daisy has already grabbed herself some toilet paper and is in the process of shutting herself in the stall when Bobbi bursts in. She’s not in time to catch the door, but she does make a ruse of asking if the other stall is free. It is. They’re in here alone and Daisy didn’t have to raise her teary voice.

She sneaks out of the stall.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. “I’m being stupid, don’t mind me.”

“What happened?” Bobbi asks. Daisy crinkles her nose, embarrassed to admit it.

“I – I got a bad grade. It’s no big deal, it’s just… I’m not used to it affecting me this much. I was a bit worried I was going to have a full-on breakdown there for a second.”

Bobbi takes the paper gently, the paper with the bad grades. She does quite a good job of not changing her expression as she reads the list, but Daisy knows what’s on there, and hangs her head.

“Guess I should start looking for new friends now, huh?” she mutters. “I hope you guys have fun without me.”

“Wait, what?” Bobbi looks up. “Daisy. You can salvage this! You’re on a D, if you don’t get any worse than that you’ll be fine.”

Daisy shrugs, and sniffs, and tabs at her face with the toilet paper. “I might pass. Might. And if I do, they’ll put me in different classes than you guys coz you’re all bloody geniuses. And if I don’t – I might not be here next year. They might give me back. I’m just being realistic.”

“It is not realistic to think you don’t deserve friends,” Bobbi critiques, defensive on Daisy’s behalf. “It’s not realistic to think that we would drop you like that. It’s certainly not realistic to think that when you, Daisy Johnson, want something, you can’t achieve it.”

“Well I can’t!” Daisy threw her hands in the air. “I haven’t been paying attention all year! I can’t learn all that –“

“You’ve been to five schools already, you must have covered some of it, and you just might have happened upon the three people both most willing and able to help you in this whole place.” Bobbi’s eyes and her voice are soft and gentle, a soothing solution to Daisy’s erratically declining faith in herself. Bobbi reaches for Daisy’s outstretched arm – even though it has a snotty, teary piece of toilet paper crumpled up in it, and eases Daisy back toward her. Not quite into a hug, but enough to put her hand on Daisy’s shoulder, and look into her eyes. She could have kissed her, so close are their bodies, and so intimate as the moment, but instead, barely louder than a whisper, Bobbi promises:

“Trust me, Daisy Johnson. I will not let you down.”

[aquarianlights]

1-10 hehehe c:

*cracks knuckles* AH, I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED. Heh. Heh. HEH. IT’SSSSSS CHRISTMAS TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (I type this as I’m listening to Enya-esque Gaelic Christmas songs from the 1800′s. My heart. Omfg.)

1. Favorite Christmas tradition?

We have so many, honestly. It’s the only holiday we have traditions with. It’s a seriously significant day for me and would honestly give me hope every year throughout my childhood. If I could just hold out until Christmas, I would be okay. Because Christmas was the happiest day of my life. Always. I think my favourite is watching all the old stop-motion Christmas films towards bedtime with the couch pulled out into a bed in front of the fireplace that had a fire going with the tree off to the side glittering and shimmering. Since I was born, my parents have never lived in a place that didn’t have a fireplace. Not even the house I grew up in in Florida. That’s what I immediately think of when I see this scene in my mind, despite the fact it has taken place other places.

2. White lights or colored lights?

Oh, psh, that’s not even a contest for me. :p You should be able to answer this one for me, actually. Hahaha. ANYONE who has known me for 2 seconds would be able to answer this one. COLOURED LIGHTS, OFC! The more colour, the better!! There’s an app out that can control the pattern of your light flashing to do it in all these different light-show style flashing and up and down movement and stuff and aw, man, it’s so fucking cool! Idk how it works, though. Ergh.

3. Real or fake Christmas tree?

Okay, so, my roommate has as big of a love for Christmas as I do. Well, ALMOST. And we agreed on p much EVERYTHING Christmas and it was so happy and stuff until we went with the family to buy the tree. All four of us. . .in the store. . .Me, my other three roommates, him included. Only missing one member of the family there, but he’s not a roommate of ours; just a friend. So he wasn’t included in the household tree picking. Lol. But anyways. . .My roommate and I have never disagreed on ANYTHING regarding Christmas. Chelle asked us “So...looks like fake ones are less expensive, so...Which one do you guys want?”

At the exact same time, my roommate and I shout out two different answers. Him, “Fake”. Me, “Real”. And we just both stared at each other in sheer horror. And then got into a heated debate. Lmao. I mean, he made some pretty decent arguments. . . So, yeah, we are getting a fake tree this year and that makes me HORRIBLY sad. . .because this will be the very first Christmas I have ever spent without a real tree and the smell of pine flooding the house and to get to feel the texture of the branches when you walk by..... Sigh. Real. Christmas trees have to be fucking real. . .otherwise, what’s the point? :/

4. Favorite Christmas memory?

Oh my god, I have WAYYYYYYYYYYYY too many. I think it’s a tie between when I first got my N64 when it came out. . .along with the game Pokemon Stadium. And Echo’s first Christmas.

Memory 1: When you’re little, you get up REAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY early to open your presents on Christmas. Everyone in the neighbourhood did. And I had that kinda childhood where I was friends with all the kids in the neighbourhood within my age range and on Christmas, I was actually allowed to go out and see them and have them over and stuff. So after I opened my N64 and Pokemon Stadium, we literally had an open door policy. I say literally because the front doors and the back sliding glass doors leading out to the pool and patio were permanently pushed open. I ran around the neighbourhood gathering all my friends and we all came back to my house and got in my living room and there were four controllers and a handful of us so we took turns battling each other in Pokemon Stadium all morning. It was so much fun. Our parents got together, too, while we played and had wine and stuff and when we were done playing, our parents had us make cookies and ice/frost them and it was a lot of fun

Memory 2: Not as elaborate of a memory. . .Simple, but pure and good. Echo’s first Christmas. . .he saw snow for the first time. That’s when I got that picture of him as a puppy of him howling on the trampoline that got really up there in the notes on here (coz, y’know, he was the cutest pupper alive lol and that picture did his cuteness in his puppy ugly years justice). He was SO EXCITED by the snow but also so frightened. At first, he started barking at it. He would get close to it and bark at it and back up. Finally, he stuck his paw in it and SCREAMED and started running (I had his leash and harness on obvs) and the dummy ran straight into the snow. . .snow piles that were taller than him. So he was like. . .hopping like a bunny through the snow. You’d only see him and hear him when he hopped up in the air. Then he’d fall back into a snow pile. And he was screaming the whole time. (Pomeranians are VERY vocal and they will scream at anything that is new to them when they are young. I learned this via absolute horror and shock because he jumped off the couch when he was a pup for the first time and it wasn’t a big drop or anything just a small hop. . .and when he landed, he was perfectly fine, but nonetheless. . .his tail tucked between his legs, he started SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER, and skittered into my mom’s bedroom and squeezed under the bed. I thought he was fucking dying. Nope, turns out that’s just how all poms are. Lol.) I was running after him this whole time trying to get him to pick him up out of the snow but I kept falling in the snow, too, coz it was past my ankles and I don’t have any boots or pants equipped to handle that. I’m from fucking Florida! Lmao. Anyways, I eventually caught up with him and put him on my trampoline to dry him off a bit before taking him back inside to dry him off for real. And that’s when I snapped those two highly photogenic pictures of Echo on the trampoline during his puppy uglies. . .covered in snow. . .but cute af. He also learned that he quite enjoys sticking his snow into snow piles. . .moving it around a bit. . .pulling it out. . .and then immediately furiously digging/burrowing. Lol. ANYWAYS. . .I got him back inside. . .dried him off and everything. . .and since he was kinda wet, he did that dog thing where he skittered around the house as fast as he possibly could. . jumping on all the furniture, knocking things over, running in literal circles. . . When he FINALLY calmed down. . .I had him open his presents. I had wrapped them easily enough to where he could open them himself and I actually have a video of his first Christmas with him opening his presents somewhere but I can’t find it! D: But, anyways, he was SO GODDAMN CUTE opening all his presents!!!!!! He would just tug on the wrapping paper with his snout and put his little fluffy paws on it and push and tug simultaneously. . .and he would slowly rip the wrapping paper off while snorting. And it was the cutest fucking thing. I do this every Christmas for him. I wrap his presents very loosely and make sure to get him a cookie. This year, I’m gonna be getting him an Ugly Christmas Sweater, an LED Christmas Collar, a new year-round collar, a few new toys with squeakers, a special cookie like always, some of his favourite training treats from when he was a puppy in his favourite flavour, and a shiny new dog tag with his new address on it. :3 I’mma put his Christmas collar on with the lights blinking and put his ugly sweater on him before he goes to open his presents this year. And record that. Coz it’s the best sight. c: Our family member who is just a friend and doesn’t live with us works at Petco and he already confirmed they have ugly christmas sweaters in Echo’s size and they have the Christmas collars I’m thinking about. . .So I’m heading over there as soon as I get back and I’m taking Echo into the store and we’re gonna go searching for his presents and let him sniff out which toys he wants and stuff. c:

Okay okay I’m rambling SORRY. YOU CAN’T GET ME TALKING ABOUT ECHO. YOU KNOW THIS. LMAO.

5. Favorite Christmas song?

Of all the traditional ones, Pachelbel Canon. That was actually one of the first two-handed piano pieces I successfully learned how to play in lessons when I was little. I always master Christmas songs quicker than anything else on any instrument because they’re my favourite. The newer ones are okay, I guess. They’ve really got to do it right. . .because writing Christmas music nowadays is just. . .Idk, it doesn’t really catch on. Coz we had that era. We had it. And now we listen to all those old songs even if we aren’t people who would normally seek out older songs (I’m definitely not that kind of person!). But, wow, I love all the traditional Christmas songs. I have my pandora on the Traditional Christmas station. Same with my spotify when I use it. And my Sirius XM radio stays on the channel that they convert to the Traditional Christmas channel for the month if dec

I think the only current group that has done Christmas music correctly in the modern music scene is Trans-Siberian Orchestra, tbh. And their Christmas music. . .all of it. . .actually should come in a tie for first with Pachelbel. Tbh.

6. Have you ever had a white Christmas?

Once. Literally once in my entire life. And it just so happened to be Echo’s first Christmas. I had dreamed of having a white Christmas since I was a little boy. Ofc, I never saw snow until I was like 13 or 14 for the very first time. So I had no idea what a white Christmas really entailed growing up coz I had never seen or felt snow before. But Echo’s first Christmas was the only white Christmas I’ve ever had. . .and it was the most beautiful day. I had such joy with my dog that day.

7. Favorite Christmas treat?

Holiday chocolates. Specifically, those orange-shaped chocolates that only come out during Christmas time that you have to slam against a hard surface to break them into slices. . .and when you open it, it looks like it’s been sliced and pulled apart like an orange. And it’s orange/citrus-infused chocolate. Which happens to be my fave. . .I got three of them as presents so far this year coz everyone knows I freak out when they’re in stores but didn’t have any money to buy them this year. They came out with a new flavour, too! So someone got me that one. Strawberry-infused chocolate. Still looked and sliced like an orange when slammed against a hard surface and broken. . .but it was delicious. And I’ve had two orange-infused ones. I still have a whole orange-infused one left, I can only eat like 1 slice at a time. Very rarely 2. So they last for a pretty long time with me. Lolol. I know there are other holiday chocolates. . .but I can’t think of them. Oh, ALSO, the candy-canes that are fruit flavoured. Specifically, the jolly rancher ones. Mmmmm! Stock up on those. Aw ye. Heh. :p

8. Do you have a favorite Christmas tree ornament?

I have way, way, WAY too many, omfg. I have so many favourite ornaments. And so many of them hold extreme sentimental value to me. There is legit no way possible that I could pick just one. Nope. No way. There’s no way I could pick like. . .just five or ten or something, either, tbh. Lol. There’s so many........ Although. . .if I absolutely HAD to choose. . .like, if there were a gun to Echo’s tiny little head and I had to choose to save his life. . .I would choose my Lady & The Tramp one.

9. Do you go Black Friday shopping?

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!!! Lmaaaoooo. Bruh. Never. Never in my goddamn life will I ever go Black Friday shopping. Absolutely not. A) Because I have worked too many black friday’s in retail. . .specifically in malls. . .and it is absolute hell and I have never been so stressed and past my limit at my jobs in different retail stores. And B) Because why the fuck would you go deal with all that bullshit. . .long-ass lines. . .People literally camping outside your store waiting for you to open so they can flood the store and destroy EVERYTHING. . .fighting. . .getting hurt. . .things breaking. . ..getting angry and upset. . .getting stressed past your limit trying to get to the items you want in time before everyone else does in this chaotic every-man-for-themselves race. . .Like, seriously? No thanks. Why the FUCK go to Black Friday when we have Cyber Monday???? It’s literally the same exact thing. . .just online. That;s it,

I’ve always kinda just judged people who go to Black Friday sales coz a) they’re causing the employees hell just by participating and b) where the fuck is the common sense in that when you can do it completely stress-free and from the comfort of your own bedroom or a coffee shop or wherever you want!

Cyber Monday is where it’s at, guys. Don’t cause employees that are forced to work Black Friday even more hell by participating in that chaos and fueling the fire. God forbid you accidentally take out your stress and rage on the cashier without even realizing it. Cannot even tell you how many times that happens on Black Friday. Can’t even tell you how many of us literally had to take 5 minute breaks every hour or so because of how psychologically/emotionally damaging it was. So.....yeah, no. Lol.

10. Favorite Christmas movie?

I actually can’t say I have one, tbh. Like. . .I don’t get super, super excited by any particular Christmas movie anymore. I used to get excited over almost all of them growing up. Especially the stop-motion ones because they were close to cartoons and  I wasn’t allowed to watch cartoons growing up. They were banned in my household. But honestly. . .You could even pop in one of those fucking Hallmark Christmas movies where the plot is exactly the same for every single one of them and I will act surprised every time the plot turns out exactly the same as every other Hallmark movie. Lmmmaaoooo. 

I can’t actually think of one in particular that stands out over the rest. I love them all. Some more than others, some not very much at all. But they all still qualify in the love category.

EVERYTHING Christmas is in the love category for me. FUCK.

Thank you so much, fren!!!! You just literally made my night. I am a hap kit. :3