#once my school load chills maybe I can doodle this out

[scruffiandraws]

OMG MAYBE I still have to write his lore out. Maybe crash thinks he’s a LEGIT lobster man 😭so it’ll probably take a bit to explain/get comfortable around him. They should def have a lobster night omg you giving me ideas

Thought you'd like to know that I found an interview from 2011 where Crash speaks out about his opinion of men with lobster claws lol. Don't know if you've seen it but thought of your blorbo when I saw it.

WHAAAAAT NO I HAVENT

[devinsfm]

joe keery. cis male. he/him.  ／  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons ! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i never do this, but i really felt like it was time for a change, so i drew lots of inspiration from some of my favorite ocs and i love what i’ve come up with ! character info is under the cut and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot !

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪���: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman 

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute. 

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he’s an only child.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed. 

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since. 

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchmen and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck. 

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just...doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled...he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway. 

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm. 

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show 

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

[pansexual-remus-lupin]

I’m gonna be honest, I’ve been avoiding being on here until I finished this story, but things are going slow. SO here is part one! It definitely will have at least one more part, but more likely it will end up being three parts. 

@fanrulercass  Maybe a deaf!wolfstar one?? An AU about one of them learning sign language so they can suprise/properly speak to the other ?? Yes! It ended up being a muggle university AU as well, so I hope that’s okay! Disclaimer, I am not Deaf or HOH. While I try to write characters with other experiences with awareness of what others of that experience have told me, it won’t be a place to learn about those experiences. (This is also why I wrote third person limited to the hearing character). 

Whoever decided that art history should even be discussed before ten in the morning should be fired and permanently barred from teaching. At least that is what Sirius thought as he walked to class, hair in a messy bun and coffee in hand. Miraculously, he made it to class with thirty seconds to spare. He scanned the room for an open seat and reluctantly sat near the end of the line of tables, just two rows away from the professor. His disappointment with the proximity to the professor quickly evaporated once he got a good look at his deskmate. His curls escaped from beneath his beanie, framing his face. Several scars made their way across his eyebrows and the bridge of his nose, hilighting the natural angles of his face. His oversized sweater added to the softness that could be found in his endless green eyes. The boy’s beauty combined with 8am’s uncanny ability to make anyone forget how to function, Sirius was actually stumbling over his words. “H-hullo, mate.” The boy didn’t immediately respond. After a few seconds he looked over and waved, giving Sirius a small smile. He then quickly motioned to the clicker in his other hand and pointed to the PowerPoint at the front of the room. “Right, thanks!” Sirius whispered before clumsily rustled through his bag to find his own remote. He quickly clicked to verify his attendance before settling in with a pen and paper that he was not very likely to use for actual notes. As he doodled, his mind wandered. His page filled up with swirls as he thought about his next art project then where he and James might drag their new roommate, Peter, off to show him what getting out of the house looks like. His eyes kept wandering back to the boy, but of course staring is not polite and certainly not discrete when you’re two feet apart. He felt a tap against his hand and looked down, seeing a paper had been pushed towards him. He looked up at the boy, who smirked at him for a moment before looking back at the teacher. Sirius took the paper and read the smooth, bubbly words, written in dark green ink. “So what demon decided that any subject should be this damn early?” Sirius quickly wrote back in his messy script, half print and half cursive. “In their defense, I’d probably not stay awake for this even if it were at a more sensible time.” Sirius cleared his throat to get the boy’s attention with no luck. He pushed the paper back in his direction until it bumped into his hand. He looked down and took the paper back. Sirius pretended to pay attention to the instructor as his deskmate  jotted down his response. “No kidding. Its all the same as history from art class in primary school, just with more dicks in the art and fewer dicks drawn on the desks.” Sirius tried to stifle his laughter. “There’s at least something redeeming about this class then, at least.” He past the paper back and his heart jumped at the blush that reached the boy’s cheeks. “You’ve got to hang onto the little things to get through the BS classes. My name is Remus, btw. English major, art minor. How about you?” “I’m Sirius. Art major, theater minor. Though I might be questioning my major choice if I didn’t have decent company in this class. I’m a second year. How about you?” “I’m in my second as well, but I just transferred. Small town college ended up being a load of bullocks. Everyone knows everyone - in the worst way.” Before Sirius could finish his response, the professor announced the end of class. “Well that went better than I thought it would, all things considered.” Sirius said, as he swept his notebook into his bag. “Certainly,” Remus responded. He was looking right at Sirius, his eyes fixed on his mouth. Sirius could feel his face flushing. “Well, since you’re new, if you need someone to show you around some time, I’d be happy to.” Sirius stood up with his bag and watched Remus scribble on their shared paper. He handed the paper to Sirius. “I would be delighted.” His smile softened his face. He bent back down to collect his notebook and messenger bag. “Well, it was nice meeting you.” Sirius said. After standing up, Remus responded. “See you bright and early Wednesday then, yeah?” Sirius smiled. “Yeah.” - “What’re you so damn chipper about?” James asked. He is nearly swallowed by his patched red robe, hair in disarray.  Sirius leaned against the counter, his newly poured mug of coffee in hand. “Oh you know... good coffee, good class yesterday, has me hopeful for today.” “I thought your only good classes happened after noon?” “Turns out, some good can happen at 8am.” James arched his eyebrow in disbelief. “‘Good class’? At 8am? I call bullshit.” “Who knew art history would make me into a morning person.” He smirked. James continued to stare incredulously. “Bull. Shit.” “Well, I did happen to get the best seat in the room.” He took a sip from his mug. James rolled his eyes and turned to open the cabinet. “The very back, with the perfect napping spot, then?” He pulled out a box of cereal. “Somehow, this seat was even better. Near the front, at a table with excellent company.” James tossed a plastic bowl onto the counter. “So it’s a bloke then?” Sirius scoffed in mock disgust. “What kind of person do you take me for?” “Come off it.” James shook his head as he made the short walk to the fridge. “Did you actually talk to this one or are you going to oogle from afar like every other one?” Sirius rolled his eyes. “I don’t oogle.” “But you do consistently pine over blokes you refuse to talk to.” “I’ll have you know, we did talk.” He pulled the folded paper out of his pocket. “And I got his number.” James squinted at the paper before picking up his bowl. “So you’ve texted him, then.” “No... but I only just got it... And he probably has... things to do.” “Never stops you from texting me like mad.” James made his way past Sirius to their couch. “I try not to scare off the new ones.” Sirius follows him, falling onto the other corner of the couch, propping his feet up on their table. “Peter’s going to freak if sees your shoes on there, you know that?” “He’s got to learn a little bit of chill.” Sirius takes a long sip of coffee. “This table is technically mine anyways.” James cuts him a look. “Suit yourself then.” He leans forward to grab the remote from the table. While James flips through channels, Sirius opens his phone. He opens a contact and carefully enters the numbers from the paper in his other hand. He stops for a moment, his finger hovering over the text icon. He takes a deep breath before finally pressing it and composing a message. “Hey there. This is Sirius. Hopefully the rest of your classes are at least as interesting as art history.” Sirius spent a while watching the mindless reality show that James had settled on before turning back to his phone to scroll through Twitter. “Staring at your phone won’t make him message any faster.” James remarked, setting his bowl on the table. Sirius rolled his eyes. “It’s called Twitter. Git. Don’t you have an ten o’clock to get to.” James looked down at his phone and then back up at Sirius. “I hate when you’re right.” He jumped up and ran to his room. “What would you do without me?” Sirius asked, loud enough to be heard through the thin walls. “Be even later than you are to everything.” James answered, trying to somehow walk and put his shoes on at the same time. “You’re welcome.” The door slammed shut and Sirius laughed softly. He turned to lay down and continued scrolling through his Twitter feed. Just a few moments later, his phone buzzed and a message popped onto the screen.

[kariachi]

Next up, the episode I actually need to watch, Hairier and Scarier. Werewolf action is in, guys.

Okay, 1) be careful security peeps that this is dangerous, and 2) why would you put a frickin’ picture of the article about how this werewolf was captured by one Martin Mystery in the werewolf’s cell? That’s just asking for trouble.

~~

Okay I know I’m supposed to think Martin is using Center tech to gather information on various girls around Torrington (which, Martin please) but half of this shit wouldn’t be on any sort’ve official file, so I have to believe that he gathered this information himself and is using his Center computer to store it so he doesn’t have to keep a filing cabinet for this shit.

It might not be canon, but it’s going in the fic.

Also Martin that shirt is questionable.

“It’s not like anybody’s gonna find out” is immediately found out.

~~

Those are some filthy-ass cages, who is in charge of this shit? That cannot be ethically sound.

Poor Martin, seeing an ‘empty’ cage and choosing it just to make for an easier start. Also did he not notice his picture in the damn cage? How?

Phantom Werewolves, also able to walk on ceilings apparently. What is this a fucking Ossy? Spider-Wolf?

And after a brief struggle Martin has escaped, but gotten scratched by a werewolf. Something that has a long (modern) history of turning someone into a werewolf. There is no way Martin ‘King of the Paranormal and also Vampires’ Mystery does not know something is bound to happen here.

~~

I am gonna have to do something with this werewolf wound, because Martin as he’s being written in this fic would not be just bandaging it and going.

Also can we appreciate the fact he knows fucking everybody at this school? I’ve been to smaller schools and not known more than four people by name and he is familiar with every single person on this campus I swear to fuck. Martin Mystery, social moth.

Oh Becky is just not having it today.

Sign #1 Something is Off With Martin: Is distracted from a cute girl by cafeteria chicken. (the fact Diana doesn’t see this and immediately go “who is this person wearing my brother’s skin” is shocking)

Diana here to save her brother’s life, while Luke is here to save his girlfriend’s lunch. Both are wonderful signs of dedication.

Ooo, I’m already gonna be giving the Psi Psi Psi girls decent roles in this, and probs Tonio too I’ll see what I can do there, but I can probably get one or the other in here, notice and lure Martin from danger with a piece of meatloaf or something.

Diana, watching her brother dive-tackle some poor girl over a plate of wings: Hm, something seems odd here...

~~

Oh Martin, trying to an art model for the sake of getting a girl.

Martin pls

Martin don’t go for the taken girls, for your own sake. Also, dude, it’s Martin, he couldn’t catch a date in a trap, couldn’t attract a girlfriend with a diamond necklace on a string, back off with the territorial air.

Diana, done with his shit

Oh yeah, tempt him Diana. He’s a sibling, you know he will take any opportunity to embarrass you you give him

Diana be nice, he’s suffering enough with the itching in public.

Also how the fuck is this more embarrassing than dive-tackling somebody for their lunch?

~~

Martin pls

This boy is a disaster why do we keep him?

When you look so weird in fuchsia that cheerleaders laugh at you. And I can’t even blame them because holy shit have you looked in a mirror boy. Stay away from pinks and purples.

You know neither of these other boyfriends hold a candle to Luke. Luke was coming up all “hey, mind your manners around my girl and her lunch”, demanding politeness towards his woman, meanwhile these other two keep coming up being all territorial. Their girls deserve better. Maybe Becky’ll agree to share.

Martin’s not bad at dribbling at least, let’s see ya shoot.

Dude being rude again, like seriously pal learn to fucking chill.

Also I can understand Martin’s panic here, as he must have grown all that hair since he got dressed. He’s fuzzier than Java.

Martin panics, poor child. Just skip gym, darling, it’s fine, nobody cares, move on.

Martin’s reaction time has been shot by oncoming wolfiness

And he’s chasing after balls on all fours, snatching them up in his mouth, shaking shit. He is puddy mutt.

Really dude? That’s your response? Goddamn forget becoming a werewolf I hope the damn thing eats you. Fucking rude-ass territorial thinks he’s some shit nobody-

Damn, there’s some fucking load of jerks in Martin’s gym class. We’ll be removing some of them for reasons of fic and because really people? Nobody thinking maybe, just maybe, something is fucking off about this situation? Like this is fucking weird behavior even from Martin? Nobody is concerned? Not even on a very basic “somebody appears to be in pain, that is sad” empathy level? Nobody? Yeah, fixing that, at least one of those cheerleaders is gonna be a Psi Psi Psi girl, concerned for her brother.

Martin running around outside on four limbs, being very weird, ver dog.

Poor baby is dealing with sensory overload

Martin no. Just dive tackle the pizza guy, Martin.

People at this school, I swear.

~~

Full moon on campus and Jerkhat McGee is out and about alone...

And attacked by a fucking werewolf, joy.

~~

Martin wakes up to a lot more hair, claws, pointy ears, muddy clothes, tiny fangs, and a room even more trashed than usual.

Has realized something is up, intends to complain to MOM once he figures out what.

I refuse to believe Martin wouldn’t know what. I mean really. It’s Martin Mystery. Like he’s just going to not know the signs he’s becoming a werewolf. Like he’s not going to have had a clue what was going on from the start.

I have to admit, for a moment I thought Martin was going to jump out a window to avoid Diana seeing him all wolfy. The fact he instead jumped directly to “quick! trim the nails! shave the everything!” amuses me.

Louise, honey, I don’t mean to minimize your loss, but you’re better off without Chip. He was a jerk. You can do better. Come with me I’ll find you a nice girl, or if you aren’t that way we’ll talk to Betty about you getting a piece of Luke.

Martin having a crisis upon the reveal of Chip’s shredded jacket. Personally all I can think is that quote from Rock-A-Doodle “If I kill my nephew- would that be murder, or charity?”

Damn Martin it hasn’t been ten minutes and your nails are back to claw form

Also now he apparently stops and thinks “oh, yeah, werewolves are a thing”.

That werewolf has been moving fast, snatching up teenagers.

(one of the potential topics thrown at me was “wtf is the werewolf up to” so, I gotta figure out some sort’ve reason for this thing to be starting this particular brand of shit. I mean if it were out to start shit with Martin that’d make sense but... We’ll see. Gotta finish the episode sometime this year.)

Wolfy!Martin has a temper.

And Diana still only seems to think something is odd and not ‘something is fucking wrong here’

~~

Thankfully in this fic Martin will have back-up of the “have you met yourself? we’d believe the shrubbery were offing people before you, werewolf or no” variety. Tonio and the sorority girls are gonna be trying to figure out what size dog beds they should be investing in. (“Do we get him a flea collar?” “Maybe? Probably.” “He could’ve used one before he got fuzzy.”)

Martin running away and tying himself up so he won’t be a danger to others, because he’s a lot of things but at heart he’s a good person.

Oh now Diana is concerned. Took you long enough.

Really? Using a flashlight to investigate Martin’s room? Does the boy not own a lightswitch, what?

Werewolf Vision. And also a fourth victim.

Poor Martin is still itchy, even as a wereling. (Actually that’s another subject. It’s weird that there’s apparently a difference between being bit by and being scratched by phantom werewolves, despite that not being a thing with other varieties. Wondering if Martin not turning fully has less to do with that and more to do with his being genetically predisposed to vampirism. I mean, we saw Simone become a giant bat monster, and vampires are also associated with transformations into wolves... I don’t know, I’ll work something out, got about 12 billion thoughts)

In this Diana will not get a chance to be indignant about Martin not telling anyone he got scratched by a werewolf because she and Java will be the last to know about it, but I’ll think of something for her to say to him once she finds out.

Known he was a werewolf 24 hours and already that boy is using those athletic skills to his advantage, jumping over 7 ft walls with ease so he can run away and not hurt anyone.

*screams internally about logics and things surrounding werewolves*

(do I, or do I not, during this conversation with MOM, have Eva in the background screaming about “I was gone for two weeks!!”)

I wonder if the ‘phantom’ portion of the phantom werewolfness is passed on? Like, can werewolves made by the phantom werewolf also turn invisible? Was that shown this episode? Why am I asking, I’m gonna find out eventually. 8 minutes left so, another hour maybe?

Or, ya know, he noticed you put a tracker on his shoes and ditched them to stop you from following him.

Or at least some kinda beastie... Look more like bear tracks than wolf tracks if you ask me. Even werewolf.

The phantom wolf’s timing is amazing. Also poor Martin refusing to trust his people because he’s that worried he’s gonna end up in one of those cages. Can’t blame him either. (It’s okay, fic!Martin will not have these problems because he will have more people looking out for him)

Bitch did you not just say he wasn’t a werewolf, make up your mind. Also I think we can all agree that the idea of Martin being an ‘alpha male’ is hilarious.

Instant werewolf, just remove light

“Java help!” “No Java! If you get bitten you’ll just be another enemy!” Immediately goes to help. Werewolves are not a male-only species, Diana! Back the fuck up! Toss Martin the weapon if you wanna!

Wait so baby!werewolf Martin can jump high enough to grab the outside of the pit, while the other werewolf can’t even jump high enough to touch the bars? Is this a ‘Martin has training’ thing for a ‘Martin is better at being a supernatural creature’ thing?

[cherryb0yri0t-blog]

Secret Santa Gift to Peachu-Doodles

This is for @peachu-doodles for the @jjba-secret-santa. I had a lot of fun and trouble writing this. I hope this is a decent length for a gift I feel like I should’ve done more tho. Nonetheless, I hope you like it! ^^ 

With his chin being held up by a propped arm, Josuke tried to listen to the lecture but after a long night of playing Earthbound his consciousness was fading in and out.

“-ead line 14 Higashikata.” He heard his name and he dazedly looked up at his teacher. His teacher frowned and sighed at him before he repeated the order. “I asked you to read line 14.” Josuke sighed inwardly before standing up to read the English text. He knew he had an accent with it, but compared to his peers he felt more competent in regards to the subject. Maybe it was when his father was around that he picked up how to speak it better. The old man did have trouble understanding Japanese and would switch to his native tongue for most of his stay.

Once he read the line he sat back down and returned to his earlier position until he felt a tap to his back. Making sure the teacher wasn’t watching he looked behind and saw Okuyasu give him a huge thumbs up. It looked like he had something to say so he leaned backward and let him speak.

“You’re so good at English Josuke! I could hardly understand what you were saying!”

He felt his cheeks turn hot and with the excuse that they were going to get caught he turned back in his seat and looked outside. He tried to think of anything besides the cute smile his best friend wore. Best friends… That is what they were and were probably going to be that way for the rest of their lives. Josuke was content with being friends, but he also wanted something more. Too often he had dreams where him and Okuyasu would be hanging out and then they would suddenly kiss and hold each other. Those dreams left him waking up flustered and unable to do anything but curse the fact that it was a dream.

He tried to focus his attention to a bench outside to quell those emotions, but that was stopped when he felt Oku grip his shoulders softly. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the touch and then Oku leaned over his own desk to get closer to him.

“Josuke look! It's snowing!” Josuke glanced back out and smiled at the white flakes that began to cover the bench he previously watched. Nearly everyone else joined in at watching the first snowfall in Morioh and over spoke the teacher in their excitement. It took quite a while for the teacher to gain his student’s attention once more but he was eventually able to continue his lesson. However, Josuke looked back to watch the snowflakes cover the ground

 Just like always, Josuke and Okuyasu met up with Koichi and Yukako at the school’s front doors.

“Hi guys!” Koichi called out while Yukako finished wrapping the handmade scarf around his neck. “It sure is snowing. I'm surprised they didn't let us out early.”

“Yeah. True.” A revelation suddenly hit Josuke and he yelled. “Oh come on! My poor shoes are going to get snow in them!”

“Why is that any different than the rain?”

“You don't understand Koichi, these Bally shoes are expensive. They took numerous allowances to even afford.”

“They don't look that expensive…” Josuke gasped and pointed to them.

“Lemme teach ya something Koichi. You see, these Bally shoes are genuine leather and just look at this craftsmanship. Absolutely beautiful!” Koichi rolled his eyes and started to walk out, Yukako in hand.

“Whatever you say Josuke. C’mon we better get going before we’re snowed in.”

Josuke agreed but with a sigh. He really wasn't looking forward to walking in this snow. Okuyasu noticed Josuke’s sad demeanor and decided to try something. He knew he wasn't as smart as his two friends, but he thought that this might work.

He ran ahead of the group, and trekked through the snow until he was on the sidewalk. Then he called The Hand and erased the snow covering it. It was as clean as if someone had been asked to professionally shovel it. He then turned back to his smiling friends. Josuke wore the largest smile and he ran over to Okuyasu and pulled him into a side hug.

“Thanks man! You're the best!”

Okuyasu felt his face burn from the praise; he always loved it when Josuke would give him compliments.

“Aw it's nothing. I didn't want you to get your shoes ruined, bro.”

“You're too thoughtful but that's what I love about you!” The two boys laughed and held each other until Yukako walked past them.

“Let’s go Koichi, it's cold,” she said and Koichi turned back to the others.

“Are you two coming or not?” The other two let go of each other and ran towards the couple, only slowing down when they were right behind them.

“Hey Oku, you wanna hang out? We can play some Super Mario World. You wanna hang too Koichi?”

Koichi shook his head, “Sorry Josuke, but I already promised Yukako a date.” He looked up to his girlfriend who smiled and blushed. Josuke shrugged and told him it’s alright.

Josuke and Okuyasu turned to go down the street leading to their homes and they bid Koichi and Yukako goodbye. Okuyasu decided to take the lead so that he can use The Hand to keep cleaning the sidewalk. Meanwhile Josuke bent over and silently packed a snowball in his gloved hands. Then without warning, he threw the cold ball at Oku’s back who ‘oof’ed’ at the sudden action.

Okuyasu turned around and stared at Josuke, “Oi! Did you do that?!”

“Do what?”

“Uhh,” Okuyasu thought for a moment. “Something hit my back and I don’t know who did it.”

“Pfft,” Josuke had to hold back his laughter. “Wasn’t me. I have no idea who would hit your back dude. Maybe you imagined it.”

“Maybe.” Feeling content with the answer, Oku turned around and Josuke threw another one resulting in the other teen yelling and turning around once more. This time Josuke whistled to contain his emotions.

“There’s someone targeting me! Josuke help!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the wind?”

“Then that’s some hard wind, but maybe you’re right.” And once again Oku fell for Josuke’s trap as a third snowball hit him straight in the middle of his back and he yelled. “There’s a Stand user after me!” He growled and The Hand got in a battle-ready stance. Josuke couldn’t help it anymore and he laughed hysterically. He nearly doubled over when Oku cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“O-Oku, it was me all along. S-Sorry,” he wheezed. Okuyasu stood still in thought but then he bent over and grabbed a snowball, pelting it at Josuke’s chest which landed with a hard splat.

Okuyasu chuckled but stopped when he saw the dark look Josuke had.

“Oh shit, bro I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to throw it so hard,” he tried to apologize but stopped when Josuke looked up with a micheivious glint in his eyes. Suddenly he had a whole pile of snowballs in Crazy Diamond’s arms and Oku knew he had to run or be decimated.

As Josuke threw the balls, Okuyasu used The Hand to shield him as he made his own ammo. Both boys laughed at the fight and Okuyasu ran into a neighbor’s yard to find more snow. Josuke yelled at him that he was cheating but the shorter boy refused to get out of the snow and used Josuke’s weakness against him. He wanted to get one in Josuke’s face but he aimed too high and it was like time stopped as it hit the holy pomp. Okuyasu internally screamed as Josuke suddenly stepped into the snow and ran towards him.

It was too late for poor Oku as Josuke easily picked him up and threw him in the snow. “Don’t kill me! I wasn’t meaning to bro!” he pleaded as the taller teen stood over him. Right as Okuyasu started to pray to the gods for forgiveness, Josuke’s kind demeanor came back and he laughed.

“Got you!” he teased. It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did Oku gave a huge sigh in relief. “I didn’t go overboard with the joke, did I? You did look a little pale,” he smirked and held a hand out for Oku who used it to pull Josuke into the snow with him. “HEY!”

He pulled himself up from the frozen ground and shook the remainder of snow off his hair. “Now you asked for it!” He joked and playfully pushed Okuyasu into the snow and before they knew it they were both covered in the cold material and worn out from the jovial fighting.

They relaxed in the snow close together for a moment. A moment that Josuke took straight to his heart. He was a natural romantic and it occurred to him that what just happened would probably be similar to those cheesy Christmas movies his mother sometimes watched. Okuyasu turned his head to his and smiled that dorky but genuine smile that made his heart soar. They’ve been through so much and Josuke knew that what he felt was true, but he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. It hurt him so much but he told himself that hiding his feelings was for the best. The snow underneath chilled him and he reached out and grabbed Okuyasu’s hand before standing up, and by extension Oku, up.

“Let’s get going before Mom comes home and sees our soaked uniforms.”

 The two teens sat side-by-side and shoulder-to-shoulder while playing Super Mario World. Usually Josuke played as Mario, but anytime Okuyasu was over and wanted to be Mario Josuke would let him. At first, Okuyasu was terrible at the game but with enough practice he became just as good as Josuke was and now the two were breezing through levels. They were at the level before Bowser’s castle and the atmosphere was tense. Their lives were low but they were so close. Sure they could always load a save if they died, but defeating a game when the odds would be stacked against them like at this very moment was part of the adrenaline and fun. Finally it came, the battle against Bowser himself. Now, Josuke played this game before and read on how to defeat the koopa king, but he always got stuck at this part. He just moved a little too closely to a fireball when…

“Oh no!” He exclaimed and pouted. “I guess it’s all up to you Okuyasu.”

“Me? Jeez Josuke I don’t know if I can. Maybe you should take charge you’re better at this than I am anyway.”

“No way! We’re doing this fair and square. Besides I believe in you.” They looked at each other for a moment and the shorter teen sat straighter.

“You’re right Josuke! I can do this!” With renewed hope and belief in himself, Oku took full control of the situation. The air felt frozen in time as the music intensified and fireballs were thrown in Mario’s direction. Mario shrank for a moment until Peach came in with the most needed mushroom and Josuke sighed. He watched the screen for a while until he began to watch Okuyasu’s facial movements. His tongue slightly poked out to wet his lips in pure determination and Josuke wondered just what those lips would taste like. His thoughts were just thinking about how much he thought of Okuyasu and how wonderful and beautiful he is that he didn’t hear the sounds coming from Bowser’s clown car or the happy music signifying that the princess was saved.

Okuyasu turned his head to Josuke with a bright smile, “I did it! I beat Bowser!” Hearing this, Josuke snapped out of his thoughts for a moment and looked at the screen in awe.

“You did it!” He cheered and without thinking nor hesitation he did the first thing his instincts told him to do and that was to kiss the winner. Their lips melded awkwardly and just like that, Josuke quickly pulled away. “Oh..shit s-sorry I-I didn’t mean to I-“ he couldn’t believe he just did that and he wanted to die right then and there as he felt that he just ruined everything.

Okuyasu’s eyes were wide and one of his hands went up to touch his lips, his cheeks were dusted with a light pink which Josuke was sure was pure anger, however Okuyasu’s next words dispelled these worries.

“H-Hey that felt kinda nice…”

“O-Oh yeah, it did..”

“Can we do it again?”

“Really?” Josuke was sure his heart was going to pop right out of his chest.

“Yeah bro.” With a shaking hand, Josuke gently held the other teen’s cheek in his hand and he glanced into his eyes for a moment before bringing his lips upon the other’s once more. The kiss had more direction this time and Okuyasu got into it by bringing his arms around Josuke’s waist. Josuke wanted to cry and he hoped that this meant that his feelings were reciprocated. The kiss went on for a minute or so, time seemed to cease to exist in this blissful state, until Josuke pulled back.

“Okuyasu, I like you.”

“I like you too.”

“No. I mean I really like you,” he emphasized and for a split moment he believed he was a fool.

“Josuke, I may be dumb, but I know what you meant and I mean it when I say that I like you,” Oku grinned and was instantly pulled into a large hug.

“I’m so glad! I was so afraid I ruined my friendship with you. You’re the best friend a guy like me could ask for!”

“What about Koichi?”

“Well Koichi’s great too,” the pompadour proud lad smirked. “But he’s not as cute as you Oku.”

“Aw shucks Josuke, you flatter me too much!”

“Good because you deserve it! And I mean it, I really mean it.” He watched in humor as Oku’s cheeks darkened and then covered as Oku became too embarrassed to show his face.

 Later that night, Josuke ran to the phone and called Koichi.

“Hey hey guess what?”

“What? Did something happen?”

“Yep! Okuyasu and I are now dating!”

“It’s about time.”

“Huh?! Why don’t you sound surprised?”

“Oh I saw this coming months ago.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

[andromeda---galaxy]

First Meeting

Eyewitness Week! Happy Eyewitness Anniversary! Here is my first contribution. Rated: T Words: 1,986

Lukas doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, but he’s nervous. He feels like he’s outside himself, watching every move he makes. He feels ten times bigger than he really is, like he’s a giant and he’s gonna slam through the walls of the store and destroy everything. Everyone he doesn’t want to notice him will notice him.

 And the one person he wants to probably won’t.

 Lukas clears his throat and walks into the convenience store, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’s panicking, he’s not acting fucking normal. They’re probably gonna think he’s here to steal or some shit. He’s already essentially stalking someone, so the list of offenses is just piling up.

The first time this happened was completely accidental. He’d come here after school to grab some TV dinners for home when he saw him. That cute boy from school. The one that had already been haunting his every waking moment, visiting him in his dreams. Making him question his entire life and every choice he’d ever made. Lukas has never been so struck by a person in his entire life, and he hates that it’s a boy. Hates that it’s a boy that’s making his stomach turn and his chest go tight. Hates that it’s a boy that makes his breath catch in his throat. A boy, whose lips he’s picturing when his hand travels down his chest and into his boxers when he can’t sleep at night. This boy. This perfect boy. Only him.

 Lukas had seen him for the first time in math class, and he knew as soon as he set eyes on him that he was a goddamn goner. All these feelings he’d been trying to drown shot up to the surface, and before he realized he was staring Mrs. Gibson called out the boy’s name—Philip Shea. Philip said here and leaned back in his seat, looking like some kind of Greek sculpture.

 Lukas catalogued everything about him in that first moment, and longed to hear him speak again. He felt sick, he didn’t know what he was thinking, but something inside him went primal. He only felt want. Need. He wasn’t being rational.

 Lukas walks through the aisles like an idiot and once again, tells himself the first time was accidental. He wanted to pick up some TV dinners because he knew his dad wasn’t gonna be home for a couple of days. And like some kind of sick cosmic destiny, he saw Philip in the next aisle, staring at the cereal like he didn’t know what it was. Lukas nearly choked on his own tongue, almost tripped over a wet floor sign trying to hide from him.

 The second time wasn’t exactly an accident. He’s starting to let himself accept that.

 He’d gone there the next day to check if it was a one-off coincidence that they were both there or something Philip did every day. And once again, he saw Philip there, this time in the snacks aisle, looking just as lost. Lukas watched him, well aware of how creepy he was being following Philip around, well aware that his attraction was eating away at his insides. But he liked the way Philip walked. The way he chewed on his lower lip. The way he adjusted his jacket around his shoulders. Lukas could imagine taking that jacket off of him. Running his hands down his arms.

 Jesus Christ.

 He’d come back twice more just to make sure this was an actual routine, the clerk nearly destroying his whole damn plan by yelling at him across the store and asking why he’d been in there so much lately. But Philip had his camera with him every time Lukas saw him, which gave him some ideas as to how to approach this whole thing, if he gained the courage. He practiced what he wanted to say that night in front of the bathroom mirror.

 “Hey, I know you,” Lukas said, pointing at himself in the mirror. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, starting over. “Hey, I’ve seen you before,” he said, trying to feign surprise. He watched his own face fall and shook his head. “Idiot.”

 He braced his hands on his hips. He could be slick, he fucking knew he could be slick.

 The practicing failed and he went to school repeating what he wanted to say in his head over and over, like a prayer, like a curse, like something he didn’t know if he should be doing but was steadfastly going to do anyway. Because he had to. Because he didn’t know why. Because he needed to hear Philip talk to him. Say his name.

 Here and now he walks through the cooler aisle and sees Philip over by the cereal again.

 Lukas can’t think things he knows are true. Those things, those things he knows but he doesn’t want to know. The thoughts shove their way in sometimes, present themselves like an old movie projected on a blank wall, and every time he thinks about Philip everything goes red on the back of his eyelids. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, BOY. Words he can’t apply to himself. Words he isn’t allowed to apply to himself. Words he hopes he can apply to Philip because Lukas is fucked up, lost, absolutely destroyed, out of his fucking mind. None of it makes sense to him, and he wants to cry.

 He really wants to talk to Philip. He can’t stop thinking about his mouth. His voice. The way he moves. And Lukas needs to man the fuck up and let himself fall into this world for a moment, just a moment, before the real world forces it to skid to a halt.

 He wants a world where he can talk to Philip how he wants and it’ll be okay. But it’s impossible. It’ll never happen. It’s just a dream.

 Lukas walks over, completely fake casual, to where Philip is standing close to the ICEE machine. His heart is raging in his chest and he does this stupid fucking double take when he’s close enough to speak to him, stopping in his tracks.

 “Hey,” he says, willing his voice not to waver. “I know you, right?”

 Philip looks at him, his face perfectly serene, and Jesus Christ he’s one of the most beautiful people Lukas has ever seen. Stop that stop that. “I think so,” he says. “You’re in my math class right?”

 And English and speech and I see you walking to gym but that’s beside the point. “Yeah, that’s where,” Lukas says. He holds out his hand. “Lukas Waldenbeck.”

 Philip takes his hand and shakes it, seventeen small explosions going off in Lukas’s head before Philip lets go. “Philip Shea,” Philip says. “You’re the one that drives that dirt bike, right?”

 Lukas’s heart does a flip and he stuffs his hands in his pockets again. Fuck, he’s noticed me for real. “Yeah, that’s me,” he says, happy for the perfect in. “I’m, uh—into motocross, you heard of it?”

 “Yeah,” Philip says, almost too fast. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

 Oh fuck he likes motocross could he be any fucking better than he already is?? Lukas is breathing hard and he coughs to try to cover it, which makes him sound even more insane. “Yeah,” he says, stupidly. He points at Philip’s camera. “You, uh—take a lot of pictures?”

 Philip looks down at it and smiles when he looks back up, shrugging a little bit. “Oh, this thing is old. Doesn’t do much, like…one picture every ten minutes. But yeah, I…I like taking pictures, yeah.”

 Lukas’s mind races. “Hey, I—I have this channel, uh, where I upload videos of me on my bike and shit, doing jumps, whatever—” ugh you’re fucking it up, you sound like an idiot, idiot, you goddamn idiot. “Anyways, uh, it’s hard to get good shots when it’s just me.”

 “Yeah, I’d think so,” Philip says, but he’s smiling wider now.

 “You, uh, you interested in shooting some footage one of these days?” Lukas asks, and he actually digs the toe of his shoe into the non-existent dirt because they’re inside a fucking store. “You could, uh—use my phone, since your camera is old. You could take videos with my phone.” Ohhhh my God.

 “Sure,” Philip says. “Why not? I don’t have much going on.”

 “Savage,” Lukas says, a bubble of air in his chest bursting with relief. “Lemme get your number so I can tell you when and where.” Slick. Well, semi-slick.

 “Okay,” Philip says, stepping closer as Lukas pulls out his phone. The proximity is insane. “917-334-5876.”

 “Awesome, okay, lemme text you,” Lukas says, his heart in his throat and everything, everything flashing through his mind in some kind of messed up flipbook. All the things he’s ever thought about Philip. Including the thoughts he isn’t allowed to have. Heat creeps up his neck and he hopes Philip doesn’t see the red there. He quickly types out hey it’s Lukas and sends it to Philip’s number. He hears a text tone go off.

 “Got it,” Philip says, taking his phone out and waving it a little in the air.

 He’s really fucking cute

 Lukas clears his throat. “Great, man, thank you so much. I can pay you in contraband beer and uh, cheese doodles. Or other snacks, I don’t know, we’ve got a bunch of crap in the house.” Dumb dumb dumb dumb

 “Maybe pizza,” Philip says, grinning.

 Lukas is struck by him. His brown eyes, so big and gorgeous. That hair. His smile. He just has an air about him, something that’s drawing Lukas in. He wants to be as close as possible. “Perfect idea,” Lukas says, laughing a little bit.

 Philip laughs too and they both look down at their feet.

 “So yeah,” Lukas says, looking back up at him. “How’s Friday sound? If Gibson doesn’t load us up with eighteen more study guides.”

 “Jesus,” Philip laughs. “You had a problem with those too?”

 “I barely got through them,” Lukas says, shaking his head. “Though procrastination heavily played into my troubles.”

 Philip laughs again and Lukas wants to hear that noise every day for the rest of his life. What?? “Yeah, same here,” Philip says. “I feel like they do it specifically to stress us out.”

 “They definitely do,” Lukas says. “But whatever, I don’t care, we’ll hang out that day either way.” His heart rattles a little bit. “I mean. If you’re free.”

 “Yeah, I’m free,” Philip says. “I’ll ride my bike over wherever.”

 Another opportunity. “You want me to come pick you up?” he asks. “You can ride on the back of my bike. I’m a good driver.” IDIOT.

 “You sure?” Philip asks. “You don’t have to—”

 “Nah, it’ll be easier,” Lukas says, already thinking of what it’ll feel like to have Philip behind him on the bike. Chill, Waldenbeck, Jesus Christ. If dad could hear these fucking thoughts he’d send you away. “I can pick you up and take you home after.”

 “Awesome,” Philip says.

 “Cool,” Lukas says.

 There’s an entirely comfortable silence as they both look at each other, nodding. Then Lukas realizes that what he’s doing could be more qualified as gazing, so he tries to snap himself back. “Okay, great, I’ll, uh—I’ll definitely text you. But I’ll see you tomorrow anyways, in…in class.” Jesus H. Christ.

 “See you then, Lukas,” Philip says, smiling and nodding at him again.

 I really like how my name sounds coming out of your mouth. His cheeks heat up again. “See you,” Lukas says, and makes for the exit fast as he can, well aware that he’s clearly leaving with nothing, which could totally be a sign of this weird ass setup, and he hopes Philip doesn’t notice.

 Lukas walks back out into the heat of the day and grins to himself, shaking. He can’t fucking wait for Friday.