#they kinda do taste wise but the smells are definitely different

[hms-incorrect-quotes]

Heart: Do you think different paints have different tastes?

Soul: They do.

Mind: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

[petermorwood]

Crisps / Chips again

Associated with this post, here's an artefact, two anecdotes and an opinion.

The artefact is a slightly dented but still remarkably airtight "Charles Chips" tin.

It was bought, full, many years ago from the Vermont Country Store, from whom we subsequently bought reflll packs - given their size, "sacks" would be more accurate - which were shipped to Ireland in sturdy cardboard boxes.

VCS no longer carry Charles Chips in either tin or refill. I know. I checked. BUT...

The Charles Chips company, which per Wikipedia was doing just fine in 1990 then got sold and went bankrupt twice in less than three years (gosh!) is Back In Business, and note has been taken, with considerable interest - oh, you bet - that they do international shipping...

*****

Anecdote No. 1 is from when @dduane lived in Bala Cynwyd near Philadelphia, in what was known as "The House of Dangerously Single Women" (ahem). She tells me that the household used to get Charles Chips delivered to the door about twice a week, by the company's own vans.

Speaking as a long-time crisp fan, I found that both very neat and a source of mild envy. :->

Anecdote No. 2 is from 30-ish years ago, when we were in New York for something or other and, being rather jetlagged with our internal food clocks out of whack, did our usual thing and went out for a walk.

Curiously enough, this involved visiting several food stores and supermarkets where we bought a lot of Interesting Foreign or Much Missed (i.e. American, in both instances) junk food for grazing on back in our hotel room.

In one of them DD was about to lay claim to a huge bag of Wise potato chips (its bag would have been the design in the middle)...

...while nattering to one of the shop staff how much she missed them. He told her that a new delivery was expected in about 20 minutes and if she wanted to wait, she'd get much fresher chips.

And So It Came To Pass.

Well done, that guy!

*****

Finally, while Saratoga Springs may have been where potato crisps / chips were popularised, standardised, commercialised or whatever, it's definitely not where they were invented.

Even the oft-repeated "creation myth" frequently has its hard-to-please celebrity demanding to have his potatoes sliced and fried really thin "The Way I Had Them In France" - which kinda sorta suggests they were, um, being made there just like that well before the Saratoga thing happened.

Myths are okay, even marketing myths - so long as they're recognised as myths and not shilled as true by places with reputations like the Smithsonian.

*****

It's a bit like the still-current nonsense about spices being used in medieval kitchens to disguise bad meat. As far as I've been able to find out, this originated with a historian called J. C. Drummond in the late 1930s - yup, just before World War Two - simply because he didn't know his period terminology.

"Green" meant fresh - even nowadays, an inexperienced or immature person is "green" - so green cheese was newly made, and green meat was newly slaughtered, unaged and consequently tough and flavourless.

Just ask any steak fan the difference between a fresh steak and a 30-day dry aged one.

Drummond, in his overspecialised-scholarship wisdom, assumed that "green venison" meant meat which had gone off, and that a recipe to improve it with spices was to cover the bad smell and taste.

In fact it was somewhere between a marinade and a rub, meant to improve the tenderness and flavour of fresh meat as if it had aged for a while, thus shortening the waiting time between killing a beast and getting it to the table of a hungry court.

As I've said before, it's always easier for no-proofs-given pop history to dismiss medieval people as (insert derogatory observation here) than take the time needed to explain why and how they in their time were not that different to us in ours.

*****

PS: when looking for that previously posted stuff about green meat I found a post where, with even less evidence than Saratoga Springs inventing crisps, a Brit poster claimed Brits invented curry.

Snrk.

Among other more or less pertinent observations, I mentioned that what Brits invented was BRITISH curry, and anyone who has read "Nanny Ogg's Cookbook" will know what I meant by that... :->

[antigoneidk]

can't help falling in love|t.h.

summary: when words can't speak enough, songs will do

pairing: tom holland × reader

words: 2k

a/n: well I think we all fell in love with this Tom right? I mean who wouldn't??? Wish more of that content cause I'm a sucker for him..

"Over yours tonight?"

"Yes. Bring your guitar too."

"We're about to have fun tonight."

"As we always do!"

And when it was just the two of you, you always had a great time. The chemistry that had been developed between you and Tom was indescribable and everyone seemed jealous of what you have created. It was amazing how much two people can connect, two different souls in such a little period.

You loved your little secret "rendezvous" as you liked to call them. He'd come to your place, or you'd go to his, sip wine and talk for hours and hours about everything. From how the world was created, to how your nail broke, or the way some theories of very famous scientists may be wrong, or how his brothers crashed his car without him knowing, even analyze the way social media work, or begging him to show you videos of the set for his upcoming film. Maybe you'd complain about how early you have to wake up the next day and he'd make fun of you before he realizes that he's going to wake up as early as you. And you'd beg him to stay, or the opposite. 

And after that, you'd grab your guitars and play until you fall asleep on the couch.

He looked so handsome concentrated on not losing any chord, not ruin the melody. His brown eyes focusing on the strings, his fingers following the sound in his mind, his body relaxed, and his ears longing for your voice.

How he adored listening to your angelic voice. He couldn't explain the way his heart melted with the sweet sound of yours, his stomach filling with butterflies, his mind following the heart on this chaotic, exciting, endless road. He didn't know if he was in love or not. It was confusing inside his head. He never knew what falling in love means, the symptoms are different from one person to another. But he was only looking forward to the time he'd have to spend with you, the feeling of enthusiasm getting stronger as the day went by. He knew that you were the only one that could bring the peace he searched for, it was you that brought those feelings that he wanted to see for himself. He admitted once that he wished you'd be more than just his close friend to himself. Yet, the fear of losing you was massive and your presence in his life was more important than his feelings. So the only way was to push them to the side.

You knocked on his doorbell and fixed your guitar on your shoulder while waiting for the door to open. You looked down at your shoes noticing how dirty they got but as you were about to somehow clean them with your hand, you heard the door open and your eyes met his.

"Hi," you said cheerfully leaving the guitar to your side and wrapping your hands around his shoulder. His familiar scent came to your nose, your eyes closing for a moment enjoying his smell, but also the sensation of his arms tightening around your waist.

"Hey, beautiful" he mumbled softly and let go of you. "How are you?" he asked grabbing your guitar and closing the door behind you. 

"Now that I am here I'm so much better" you confessed. "Oh, you didn't wait for me to help"  you complained seeing that everything was already prepared for you.

"Why would I need help?" he asked.

"Because...I am your friend and you don't have to do all of these for me"

"But what happens if I want to do all of these for you?"

You stared back at him without any answer to his question. You tried to read his face, understand if he was joking or not. If he was playing with your feelings or if he was just completely clueless. His puppy eyes nearly convincing your heart that everything was true, your mind shouting to not believe this. It was a battle happening right in front of you, however, you stood still and did nothing.

"I'm pretty sure you do not so stop saying things you don't mean and let's go drink"

____________________

"But she fell in love with him Tom. She was happier than ever. She was willing to be there for him  for the rest of her life, she stood by his side through everything, his madness, his anger, his sadness, his happiness-"

"He was suffering y/n-"

"If he loved her enough-"

"Do you know how is it feel to be stuck on a chair and not move even a single finger? No matter how big your love is for someone, sometimes you're losing the fight" Tom sipped his last drop of wine and looked back at you.

"If we were in this position, would you die just like him? Even if you loved me more than anything?" you questioned.

"I seriously have no idea y/n"

"I'd live for you Tom" normally you wouldn't admit this, the wine gave you the courage though to do so. "If I was William in that stupid chair, I would want to live with you for the rest of eternity" you glanced at him meaning every word you just said. Your love for him was like no other and for sure knew that you were more than willing to move every mountain to be with him forever.

"Stop saying things you don't mean y/n" he copied your words and grabbed your guitar from the floor, unsure if he should play it cool or say something more.

"You are not romantic babe" you played it off resting your hand on the couch and placing your head at the top of it while waiting for Tom to tune the guitar. "Also I was thinking of something today while I was working"

"You were thinking again?" he asked sarcastically.

"You piece of...give me that" you laughed and took the guitar in your hands."So, as I was saying, I was thinking that maybe today you should sing with me"

"Are you drunk?" Tom asked you disagreeing already with the idea you had in mind.

"What?"

"You know that I can't sing and even if it wasn't for that I would never sing with you"

"Why?" it felt kinda offending hearing those words as you didn't know why he felt that way.

"You have the voice of an angel y/n. I'm never gonna sing with you 'cause you'll hear how bad I sound and we don't want this trust me" he pulled his guitar close to him and smiled in your direction.

"I heard you singing before and you sound incredible so cut the excuses and follow me okay?" you didn't wait for any of his complaints. You started playing the song you imagined singing with him all day. The first reason being the fact that it was an easy song to play and sing. The second reason was the lyrics of it.

"Wise men say

Only fools rush in.." you began singing.

"Come on Tom..but I can't help falling in love with you" you continued hearing only whispers.

"Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin... I can't hear you

If I can't help falling in love with you"

Tom gained some courage and started singing louder. He didn't want to be unable to hear you, it was the thing his heart desired. But your expression, your eyes wide open begging him to join you. He could resist to them ever.

And the lyrics.

"Like a river flows

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be.."

You both stared at each other as you kept going. It felt more than just a song, more than just a famous melody. Those were words that none of you had the strength to say, not even dared to try. The fear of loss, the shyness of the last minute. You were saying to yourself that his teasing was just for fun, nothing more. Tom was doing the same. It wasn't complicated at all, but both your minds trapped in this maze, wouldn't detect the way out that was right in front of your eyes.

"Take my hand, 

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you..

For I can't help falling in love with you" 

You bit your lip and positioned the guitar to your legs keeping eye contact with him. The silence in the room was comforting, calming.  It definitely could say more than words.

Fuck it.

"I wish I could kiss you right now" Tom whispered under his breath, loud enough for you to listen. It was shocking. You blinked quite a few times doubtfully, assured that this was only a prank. But he was there looking at you, waiting for a reply. You were confused and he saw it too. His palms started sweating and his heartbeat increased in the blink of an eye. The voice inside him would stop yelling 'you screwed it' and his feeling got hurt quickly. He was ready to listen to you making fun of him, the plan that would break his heart in two. But your silence was currently the only thing he didn't want to. He searched for any signal on your face, even your body language but you were standing still as time had stopped.

"Then do it" 

He didn't hesitate for long. He was dreaming after all. Because this wasn't the reality he lived for sure. 

Fireworks, fireworks, fireworks.

He swore he heard them. The moment his lips captured yours he could hear those fireworks in his heart and ears. Bells were ringing and angels singing. Damn, I'm kissing one of them he thought. His right hand touched your neck deepening the kiss he was yearning for. Your lips in sync warm against his skin. His tongue over yours exploring your taste. Your perfume fueling his nose and brain, the butterflies dancing in their music now. 

It was magical. The goosebumps all over your skin making it even more real. Heart about to explode, all of the happiness hitting throughout your body. It was happening and still, it seemed like a fantasy. You slowly touched his chest and moved upwards to his shoulders making sure that you were really touching him and not any of your pillows. The sensation of his lips in yours was so much better than your imagination. Perfectly made for kissing you and only you.

You broke the kiss and the brightest smile he ever saw was on your lips. The lips HE was kissing.

"Y/n you have no idea how bad I wanted this to happen" he touched your forehead and with his thumb started to draw small circles. A tear rolled from your eye and dropped to his hand.

"Why did it take you so long?" you asked and closed your eyes feeling his breath hitting the skin of your face and hands.

"Baby don't cry. Please" he murmured.

"I'm just happy you know. It's no longer a fantasy or a dream. It's real" you admitted with your shaky breaths making your work hard. But you couldn't care less at that moment.

"I was afraid of losing you y/n. What if you didn't feel the same way? How was I supposed to know?"

"You wouldn't lose me okay? I'm feeling the same way Tom" you carefully brought your fingers at the top of his lips and touched them as you dreamed to. "I'm yours. I'll always be yours."

**the movie mentioned was me before you

**the song they were singing was can't help falling in love by Elvis Presley

Thank you for reading❤

[pocmuzings]

hello hi , it is g , ur friendly local neighbourhood hindu indian ( as in south asian  ) ! so a few people requested that i just make a guide-esque sorta thing on hindu  indian characters ! im not really good at guides , so instead , these are just little things i’ve noticed or picked up on that could really potentially strengthen the next indian character u ( pretty please ! ) pick up ! 

disclaimer : i am writing this from my perspective and it is NOT definitive , nor do i speak on behalf of all hindu indians  ! i am a 23-year-old bisexual cis female hindu indian , with one older gay brother, and a Train Wreck middle brother . my mother is from new delhi , and my father is from nairobi but has indian heritage ( not sure which part of india bc he’s an Engima ) . i have extended family in india and have visited india about 10-15 times throughout my entire life .

so firstly , im so glad u all are here and want to write more hindu indian characters ! please please do so !  i hope this helps , encourages u , and isnt too confusing !! 

psa : i need everyone to know that this is a very basic ‘ guide ‘ and theres a lot it DOESNT touch on or address bc i didnt want to get too Extensive and Detailed and have people Turn off and not Read it . this is just written in the terms of hopefully helping build  character / be relevant to characters a bit better that ive employed into writing my OWN hindu indian character creations !  but if u have any other questions pls reach out to me or any other indians in the rpc and im sure we’ll try our best to assist u !

FCS: 

one thing i’d really like to say is that its great to see fcs like dev patel  , deepika padukone and avan jogia picked up every now and then in rps , but there’s actually a LOT of other indian fcs you could be and should be using ! the main reason people don’t seem to know them is because they’re not ‘ hollywood ‘ stars per se ( it was a super big deal when pr*yanka broke out of bollywood and into bollywood but we don’t talk about her on this Blog ) . they’re usually bollywood stars and i don’t really see bollywood discussed that much in the rpc ! 

if you’re after MORE indian fcs , i have a tag of indian females here , and indian males here . the fcs on my blogs are also not ALL that exist . there are plenty of other blogs out there that post indian fcs , such as sonamhelps &  bollymusings !!! there’s also some really great faceclaim directories out there that include a LOT of indians with resources !

 unfortunately , i do not know of any trans indians or nonbinary indians but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist . indian cultures and beliefs are still quite Old School and not super progressive . india only just had it’s first wlw mainstream bollywood film released last year . lgbtqia+ issues are NOT really spoken about in india or within indian families at ALL , and if they are - they’re usually dismissed or reacted to Very Very Badly . ( again this isnt definitive and im sure and hopeful that some indians have had GREAT coming out stories and been accepted by their families but this has not been a common thing ive seen or witnessed from my cousins my age , indian friends , myself and my brother who are lgbtqia +  ) 

FOOD : 

we do eat with our hands and we eat like PROS with our hands . we can shovel it so easily and quickly . i don’t know how to describe it but you use the first three fingers of your hand to place the Food there , and then use your thumb to kinda scoop it off and into your mouth . this is NOT unhygienic because indians wash their hands very regularly and most of the time we aren’t actually touching our mouths to our hands ! 

indian food is MADE to be eaten with your hands for the most part . it is literally NOT practical to eat food with a knife and fork . here’s a really great article explaining things more in depth re: indian food and using our hands !

cows are seen as Very holy beings in hindu indian culture , and for that reason - there isn’t a lot of beef being eaten or consumed. sure , some indians DO eat beef but i don’t think its super common, but in my personal experience as a non-beef-eater this results in A LOT of me asking ‘ oh ,  sorry what sauce does that pasta come with ? ‘ ‘ oh those are beef sausages ? sorry i can’t eat them ‘ etc etc . beef is in a LOT of things , and this makes me very very careful and almost pedantic about what i do eat and ask about , food wise  !

indian food is seen as stinky by a majority of white people . it has a very very strong smell as im sure u know , and opening ur lunch box as a little kid to a Curry or Dal ur mum has made u ? one way street to being bullied . i also remember a time a real estate agent continuously told my dad nobody was interested in buying our house bc it smelled too much like curry,  despite my mum not having cooked curry in Weeks ( just say what u Really mean ,  bitch ! )

 indian curry exists but so does dal / daal . this is curry-like dish that is usually made out of lentils . so if ur going to talk about indian food and u know curries and samosas . . pls also bring up dals . and sabji ! ( sabji is usually just boiled vegetables plopped together . a lot of potato usually )

desserts are what we call Indian Sweets  . this is stuff that is usually very VERY sugary and a bit of an accustomed taste . theyre very colourful and LOOK beautiful but even i , for one , can not eat many indian sweets bc they are a Lot of Sweet and Sugar    . examples of indian sweets that u can google  : gulab jamun , burfi , rasgulla , jalebi etc . here’s a great link for more !

give me spiced food or give me death . literally . . put some cumin in . . put some garam masala . . put some chillies . . flavour ur Food for my Indian Taste Buds 

FAMILY : 

if you are the oldest son of an Indian Family . . congratulations . you are now the Head of the family and must carry every weight and burden alone . it is extremely isolating and taxing on you ( my dad is the oldest indian son , and also - so is my eldest brother , obvs ) . there is a LOT that is expected of you to do . you are expected to quite literally run the family and be the ‘ man of the house ‘ by yourself . 

if you are a daughter . . . even BIGGER congratulations ! you are basically a maid to every male or guest who EVER comes over to your house . you must be a Hostess , you must be in the kitchen cooking , serving snacks, bringing tea , and then washing up and basically waiting on Hand and Foot . you will not be included into a lot of dialogue or engaged in a lot of conversation and TRUST ME ! THAT WILL GRIND UR GOD DAMN GEARS IN THE 21ST CENTURY ! 

if you are a boys’ boy ( aka straight and Sporty ) , then congrats ! you get it the easiest : you are the favourite of every social event . the uncles and cousins love talking to you and dude-ing it up with you , and the aunts fawn over you and think you’re the Best Thing since sliced bread . sit back , put your feet up , and expect to be treated like a God. you can do absolutely no wrong . ( my middle brother is this to a T and listen . . he’s been in and out of jail for physical violence and ab*se for over 5 years . and family still FROTH over him . my teeth are gritted to dust thinking of this again ) 

indian aunties are lethal . they gossip like teenage girls . they will find out everything . they will bitch behind your back . they can NOT be trusted .

everyone is ur uncle or aunt, sister or brother . literally everyone . ur cousin ? no. thats ur sister . ur dads friend ? no , thats ur uncle . you will call them as such . EVERYONE is family .  

family is in general a VERY BIG THING in indian culture , too . ‘ what will it Look like to everyone else if we don’t all arrive together ? ‘ my dad usually asks dskjdfjn . it’s all about Looking Right and Standing As A United Front  . that being said , indian family has undying and unwavering loyalty for one another , they just show it in a very Weird way .

FASHION: 

female hindu indian formal  clothes are usually really embroidered to hell and back and this makes them very scratchy , uncomfortable, and HEAVY . you aren’t running anywhere anytime soon in a full blown lehenga or saree 

most ‘ modern ‘ hindu indian women do not wear full Indian Clothes all the time . some do , but usually it’s a lot of wearing a kurti tunic with jeans , or just normal everyday clothing . again , this is going to be different based on which parts of india your character is from , though ! 

usually , older women and married women  wear traditiona hindul indian clothing quite often . i know my mum wore a sari AT HOME everyday when i was growing up, until i was like 13 and took her shopping with me to get something Else to wear . 

bindi’s just stick right onto ur forehead but they do fall off a lot , especially when ur wearing makeup or sweating . again , you don’t need to wear a bindi everyday , unless thats ur preference . i usually only wear them for festivals . ( festivals means indian celebrations , not like . . coachella  ((which u should not be wearing a bindi to , if ur not indian fyi )) )

male formal clothes are usually just literally anything Formal and buttoned up for the most part , and u can get away with that , or you can wear a really nice kurta

indians wear white at funerals , not black  ( not sure if this should go in the fashion section but this entire thing is being organised into a Mess by now anyways ) . you CAN wear black to a funeral of course , but its common to wear white !

DATING ( tw’s for islamaphobia ): 

modern day indian / desi fuck boys exist and my god they are Something Else . hasan minhaj did a really good piece about this and explaining them to a T ( starts at 1:43 )

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT WILL MENTION ISLAMAPHOBIA AND HOMOPHOBIA ! ) basically according to Older  indians , ,  ur dating options  in 2020 go like this ( if ur a cis female like me ) : hindu indian men are god tier , white men are Not Okay But I Guess So Bc We Have To Accept They’re Everywhere , females / being lgbtqia+ is not Taken Seriously , and muslims are literally not even close to being an option or Accepted  . again this isn’t definitive but based on a lot of  indian media i’ve consumed and seen how they portray muslims in general as well as Dating Options , as well as talking to other indians  , both who are older / traditional and hold these ideals , whereas Younger gens generally do NOT hold these ideals  / actively are Against these backwards ideals.   i remember when i was in year 6 and had my first boyfriend . . he was a muslim and my dad FLIPPED the FUCK out  . it’s not even that i was dating someone / young / his only daughter . . it was mainly because i was dating a muslim . again , this is a very OLD SCHOOL and traditional way of thinking and it is NOT CORRECT .  pls don’t take this as a note to be islamaphobic if u write an indian character bc . . thats literally the opposite of what im trying to tell u here . 

yeah arranged marriages are definitely still a thing for us , even now in 2020

YES if u are an unmarried / single indian ( ESPECIALLY if ur a woman ) about to enter ur 30s . . ur in DANGER and u are the black sheep and theres probably something Wrong With You bc why are u still single ?

TRADITIONS / BELIEFS / SUPERSTITIONS :

idk if its just me and my family but we are SUPER superstitious . if you say anything like ‘ he hasnt gotten sick in years !’ immediately , everyone knocks on wood or their head . if you were planning on leaving the house and sneeze ? thats bad luck , stand and wait for five minutes then u can leave . we have a strong belief in drishti , or  alternatively : The Evil Eye  , and making sure we don’t invite it into our lives . a lot of our prayers are about warding drishti away .

the evil eye is kinda Complicated but basically its an ill-wishing upon an unsuspecting person . if somebody is jealous of you or angered by you , they may wish upon you or cast upon you the Evil eye ( or even just glare at u whilst ur not looking and thats Big Bad ) . 

a lot of older indians , like older people in general i guess , are not super progressive or Open . this isnt ALWAYS the case but older indians can be very very stubborn in their beliefs in what is Right and Wrong , Normal and Not Normal 

theres a LOT of hindu indian festivals and events ! tbh too many for me to even keep up with . but without fail at least once a year ill say to ONE of my friends ‘ oh sorry i cant make it . i have an indian Thing on that day ‘ and its usually about a festival , so pls be aware that there are a LOT of indian festivals and if ur writing an indian character , its perfectly understandable and Relatable for them to say they can’t make it to a party or hang out with their friends that night , for that very reason !

the main / most popular ( ? ) festivities  that i personally do celebrate every year without fail are : 

diwali ( the festival of lights , celebrating goddess lakshmi roaming the earth . in my household this is usually turning on literally every single light and lighting candles and fireworks / sparklers and saying some prayers , and eating a formal dinner all together !  )  

holi ( the festival of colours . celebrating victory and love . again personally for me , this was usually celebrated at the temple with all of us Kids running around throwing paint on each other ! ) 

rakhi / raksha bandhan ( a day of sisters celebrating their brothers . you tie a rakhi which is usually a bracelet / holy string around your brothers wrist , feed them some food , pray for their wellbeing and in return they gift you something . in my case, i usually get money from them ) .

navratri  / durga puja ( 9 nights and 10 days of celebrations but tbh u don’t have to do all the days . or i mean . . i don’t . i fast one day from morning to night and then i slide on over to boogie and dance dandiya which is literally the MOST FUN dance ever bc its based off some Historical Fight and u go faster and faster and keep going until ur absolutely SPENT bc u dont wanna lose ur place in the circle )  

there are SO MANY HINDU INDIAN GODS too . and so many prayers to all of them and to just general Life Wellness . chances are that ur character will know at least ONE aarti / gazal / prayer off by heart and have sung it at least 30 times in a monotone voice . the ones i know off by heart bc ive had to sing them 3000 times ? om jai jagdish hare , & the gayatri mantra 

GENERAL LIL THINGS I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO CATEGORISE ( tw’s for skin whitening , colorism and classism ) :

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR SKIN WHITENING AND COLORISM  ) lets hold indians accountable right now : we advertise SKIN LIGHTENING CREAM  . i think they finally stopped that earlier this year / due to BLM ( i’m not entirely sure / could be wrong ) , but thats literally how bad it is , that we would openly advertise and encourage people to literally bleach their skin rather than look darker . 

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR COLORISM AND CLASSISM ) colorism is a BIG thing in india and usually linked to class . generally speaking , the people who are Darker Skinned are usually people who work outside / labourers or homeless even , and are therefore seen as lower class / bottom class . the lighter skin you have , the more privileged and advantaged you are bc ur seen as working a Good job out of the sun and having a home . it’s incredibly classist as well as just generally Fucked Up . why am i telling u this ? mainly so u understand the importance of using a dark skinned indian fc vs a light skinned indian fc which i know is hard , bc a lot of darker skinned indians arent in hollywood / have resources , but its still something to Think About .  

i have a long Ethnic name . literally my first name is 10+ letters , which i know doesnt seem that long Necessarily but its also a Super Ethnic name with e’s and and j and n . it Flows and Sounds very clearly different from a christian name . it is VERY important to me that my name be said Correctly because i’ve spent so much time having it said incorrectly or Westernised . i also know a lot of indians my age who ( like me ) have had to dramatically shorten their REAL first name ( which is usually also pretty long . not always , but it is Common ) , to fit their name into white people’s mouths better . please put some thought into ur indian characters name !

not all indians speak hindi ! hindi is one of MANY dialects within india . there is also tamil , urdu  , bengali , punjabi , telugu and SO many more , so pls research which part of india ur character / their family  is from bc hindi won’t always be the default language for them !

not every indian is hindu ! of course ur character doesnt have to be religious at all , bc if im being honest IM barely religious but my FAMILY is and this is smth u should think abt bc religion is a pretty big thing for indians . so even if ur character isnt hindu , they were probably raised with SOME religious beliefs . have a think about which religions they would have been brought up with ! there’s a very large percentage of practicing muslims , sikhs and buddhists too ! and even christianity !

WRITING WISE / CREATING AN INDIAN CHARACTER WISE :

the first step should be to consume indian media ! listen to indian music . watch bollywood movies ! theres SO MANY  out there on everyone’s netflix . if u want some recs , let me know and i can try my best to find smth for u ! if u want smth thats Hollywood-indian . . . Hasan Minhaj is great to watch , especially his episodes on indian culture / politics , and Never Have I Ever on netflix was rlly good / relatable for me personally as an indian growing up in a western society !

i would really really love to see more indian rep in general , but i’d also like to discuss the Stereotypes that ive seen indians portrayed as in mainstream hollywood media :

indian women as soft spoken and subservient beings who are abused by their husbands and have no say in anything 

heterosexuality within indian relationships and indian dating 

indian men as sleazy 

indians in general not being seen as Sexy or Sexual beings with any sex drive at all 

Stumbling , Stuttering , Nerdy awkward messes of men who don’t know how to interact with anybody they find sexually appealing

an indian character that everybody ( usually white ) finds Uncomfortable and Weird and is seen as usually the Butt of the joke .

 i think those mentioned above could be helpful in how to plan your next indian character and think about how to SUBVERT a trope theyre often portrayed as , or create an indian thats not stereotypical !

so what and who SHOULD you write ? 

an indian character who is proudly and openly gay , or bi 

a trans or nonbinary indian ( PLEASE ! ) 

an indian character with really super accepting parents and family 

an aromantic indian 

an indian who is focused on their career first and not their dating life 

a fuckboy / fuckgirl ( honestly . . i’d love to see it )

a indian character who is a party animal 

an outspoken indian female who takes no shit and is strong in every sense of the word

a confident , smooth talking indian businessman who is Sexy and Lusted After ( not in a gross christian grey way but just . i’d love to see indian characters seen as Sexy . not in a fetishy way , either , but just because it’d be a nice change in pace ! )

a character who IS traditional / religious but also very progressive and forward thinking in their beliefs 

honestly just any character that isnt whats mentioned above

[sammy-moo]

The Hunter’s Son Pt. 11

Characters: Sam x Reader, Jonah

Words: 2,319

Warnings: Smut lies ahead. 

~Masterlist~

You were stunned by your son’s wish as he sat behind his cake, a big smile on his face.

Sam was practically mirroring the same expression you had before you moved into action of cutting the cake.

Thankfully the kids just talked about how cool it would’ve been had his wish came true, while the few adults there just gave you and Sam a look.

Your brows knit together as you passed out the cake and ice cream, looking to the closest mom when you were done. “What? I don’t understand that look everyone is giving us?”

“Because we’ve all been there. Well, more or less. My daughter wanted a sibling when she was three. Or at least she thought she did. Once she found out she was getting a sister, her world was over. Jonah just thinks he wants a sibling, but once it happens he may feel differently about it.”

You paled at that, “Well that’s okay. I doubt Sam wants another kid anyways.”

“Uh huh,” she said folding her arms. “Tell me that again when you realize the way he looks at you. He’s crazy about you. You’d be crazy not to see that he’d want another one. I mean, what’s more special than creating a child with someone you love?”

Color began to flood your face all at once. She couldn’t help but laugh and walk off, leaving you at the counter completely flustered. Thankfully you were able to work the blood back through your body as you had to help gather up the dishes when the children finished eating cake and ice cream before Jonah would open presents.

With Jonah, the presents zipped by along with the hours the children played. And before you knew it, you and Sam had the house all cleaned from Jonah’s 7th birthday party and plopped onto the couch with a sigh.

“It’s so much quieter now with all the kids gone.”

“I’ll say,” Sam said happily. He turned his head to look at you, resting against the plush backing of the couch. “About Jonah’s birthday wish tonight….”

And suddenly you were going to die from blood not getting to your heart again.

He bit his lip as he looked away, “I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I never really thought I’d be a dad to begin with but this past month getting to really know Jonah, and the last half year being with you and him…. I kinda want that. I want another kid with you. I wanna,” he let out a pained sigh before adjusting, turning his body to face yours as he rested his elbow against the couch, head in his hand. “I wanna be able to experience what I missed.”

You had to do something. You had to move, breath- pretty much anything.

You gulped and adjusted, “I want another kid with you Sam, I really do, but I want to make sure this is something we really want- something Jonah really wants. I mean, he didn’t have you growing up for pretty much six years of his life. There were things you missed that I know he wanted you there for. I don’t want another child getting those things he missed and him being jealous or angry with you for it. So can we please just talk with him before we start trying?”

Sam nodded and got up, “How about we go talk with him then?”

“What? Now!?”

“Well yeah,” he scoffed playfully. “I haven’t had you all to myself yet and this really gives me an excuse.” He smirked and walked towards Jonah’s room, leaving you to follow.

You nervously left the couch and followed behind him, going through the hall and into his bedroom.

Jonah was playing with his new toys while Riot took the foot of his bed, just laying there watching him.

“Jonah, can we talk with you for a moment?”

His actions stopped as he immediately plopped onto his bed. “Sure!”

Sam bit his lip as he stared at his son.

How the hell was he supposed to do this??

You moved in more, stepping in front of Sam and closer to the bed, taking the open spot between Jonah and Riot. “About your wish tonight… Do you really want a brother or sister?”

Jonah hummed then nodded. “Yeah!”

“Well you do realize it’ll be a long time before you can play together right?”

He frowned a bit. “No but that’s okay! I have other friends.”

Sam moved closer and knelt down. “Still. Friend aside, I’ll be around for a lot. Stuff that your sibling will get that,” he let out a sigh. “That you didn’t get growing up. We don’t want you hating me or your sibling for it. With that in mind, are you sure about this?”

Jonah blinked. “You think I won’t get to experience it? I get to live it through them! I’m gonna be there for it too!”

You sat next to your now 7 year old in shock, wondering just when he had become so wise. And part of you was ready to question if it worked, but then you remembered the amazing things Jonah brought back into your life. Things that lost their magic years ago because to shine again, and you got to experience how amazing the little things truly were. So it was definitely possible he would get to experience something similar with his sibling.

You looked to Sam and smiled, “Alright. We’ll make sure that wish comes true.”

Sam shared a smile and looked to Jonah. “It’s gonna take a while though okay? We gotta….” He quickly thought, “We gotta call the stork to make sure they deliver the best sibling you could ask for.”

Jonah smiled big, “Tell them I want a brother!”

“We can’t control that but we’ll try,” laughed Sam. He straightened up, “That’s all we wanted to talk about. Your mom and I will go call right now.”

Jonah nodded and you rose up, following Sam out.

“Do you want another boy?”

Sam laughed and pulled you into the room, kissing you. “While I’d love one, we already have Jonah. And I want a little girl. Maybe if we’re lucky she’ll be a spitting image of you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yeah with my luck though she’ll look like you too.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you before pecking your lips with his in a quick kiss. “Is this what you want? Because if not, then we don’t have to do this. We can just tell Jonah the stork said this isn’t the best time?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes as you let out a small chortle. “Sam, I want this. I’ve always wanted to have this family with you when I had Jonah. I longed for it and knew it wouldn’t- couldn’t happen… But now? It’s all I want. I just want us to have this happy little family.”

It was like a flip switched on in Sam. It was like all he had been thinking about since Jonah opened his mouth was having you in his arms.

He moved like you were his prey as he pulled you back into his arms, keeping your body so close it was like he was crushing you into becoming one. His teeth gently pulled at your bottom lip, leaving you gasping. He took that chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue practically dancing with yours as he pulled a low moan from you.

He’s giant hands slid down to your ass, sliding further to lift you up into his arms. Your legs snatched around his waist in an instant as he walked you to the bed. He dropped you back, the air you got immediately leaving your body as your face flushed. You looked up at Sam with darkened eyes, watching as his eyes scanned over your body.

You sat up to kiss him but he stopped you to remove your shirt, sending it crashing onto the floor. His fingers quickly fumbled with the button on your jeans, pushing the denim down. With a little help from you he quickly sent those to the floor. You scooted further onto the bed, eyes never once leaving him. Within a second his shirt was tossed with yours, his chest rising hungrily as his fingers quickly popped his belt and jeans. Once they were heading down his thighs his cock sprung free from its denim prison.

Before he made his way for you, you quickly discarded your bra, making Sam freeze in his movements. His eyes scanned your body once more, taking notice of all the imperfections you developed since the last time he saw you like this.

Stretch marks decorated parts of your body, and your stomach still had that little bit of baby weight you never had the ability to lose. Years ago you never had those lines etched into your skin, or that bit of extra weight, and your breasts were a little smaller. But now? You were perfect just as you were back then.

His eyes fell back on yours, your teeth drawing in your bottom lip. In a flash he was over you, lips pressing hungrily to yours and down to your neck. You threaded your fingers into his hair as he focused on your pulse point, making you arch into him.

Your body tingled wherever his lips touched as he made his way down, ripping your panties away from your body.

He groaned at the smell of you, wanting nothing more than to taste you and having you cumming from just his tongue. But he needed to feel you.

Instead he peeled his boxers away, finally fully freeing his cock from any confines. He wedged himself between your legs and brushed his cock through your folds, making you whimper, “Sam please. Fuck me. Put a baby in me.”

Sam snarled and kissed you, pushing into you in one swift movement, swallowing your moan at the way he stretched you.

The burn was delicious as he pushed his member fully into you, his moan erupting from him.

He pulled back slowly before thrusting back in, a soft moan leaving you. Sam began to fuck into you roughly, your moans fueling his movements like a drug. He wanted to make you scream, but with Jonah in his room it would have to be saved for another time.

You pulled grunts and moans from him as your nails dug into his skin, meeting his thrusts. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in even further.

“Fuck Sam…. You feel amazing…”

“Bet you forgot what it felt like having your pussy stretched like this,” he snarled. “Bet no other man has filled you up this much. But I’m gonna fill you up even more.” His teeth dug into the flesh of your neck before his lips made their way to your ear. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum. Gonna be pregnant with my baby again.”

You whined loudly, blushing by just how loud it was, “Sam… Please.”

“Please what?” He stopped his movements, making you whimper.

“I wanna cum.”

Sam hummed. “Doesn’t sound like you want it that badly.” He began to thrust slowly, dragging his movements as he’d push back in and brush again, striking the right spot.

Your legs trembled around his waist, inching closer and closer to your release that still felt so far away.

“Sam please….”

Sam smirked and pressed a hand between your bodies, his thumb pressing against your bundle of nerves. He began to rub at your clit just as slowly as he thrusted, making you whine in frustration.

It was driving you crazy.

“Sam please let me cum… I need to. Cum with me and fill me up, please!”

His eyes darkened even more, practically becoming black holes absorbing any color from his iris as he snarled, thrusting and brushing his cock right against your g-spot. His thumb pressed and rubbed your clit, egging you on as he leaned closer, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “Cum,” before colliding and eating up the moans that came from you as your body shook.

Your legs tightened around his waist as your walls fluttered and clutched around his member, pulling his own orgasm from him as his thick, hot seed coated your walls.

He slowly pried his lips from yours, panting and sending his hot breath fanning across your face.

You looked into his eyes, finding the color slowly escaping. “Sam.”

You watched as a quick worry came across his face, “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He chortled in relief before kissing your lips gently, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You wanted to scream, instead you laid underneath him with the goofiest and happiest grin. But that was soon replaced with a whimper at the loss of him as he rolled to lay beside you, his chest glistening with sweat.

“You’ve gotten better with age.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, “I can say the same about you. Next time though, I’m going to make sure it’s just us.”

It was your turn to laugh as you rested your head on him. “We can’t fall asleep. One of us has to be sure Jonah goes to bed.”

Sam immediately put his finger to his nose, a giant smirk on his face as you huffed and slid from bed.

Just as you put your weight on your feet and attempted to get dressed you quickly crumbled.

Sam laughed and got up from bed, “Kidding. Let me do it. You need to stay in bed anyways. Keep those chances high. Unless you want round two?”

“Just get out,” you peered playfully as you tossed his boxers at him.

Sam quickly dressed before darting out.

Meanwhile you collapsed back into the bed, a smile on your face as you placed your hand on your bare stomach.

Tags: @bakinginhell, @growningupgeek, @charlotteswinchester, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @super-not-naturall, @goldenolaf25, @addie4602, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @keelzy2, @sea040561, @heyitscam99, @destie1745, @babypink224221

[eternaljouska]

One-One-One - Wen Junhui

Pairing: Junhui x MindReader!Reader (lol)

Genre: Fluff

Warning: Just several profanities

Word Count: 1963

Note: Another one-sitting fiction. I feel like I could’ve expanded this, narration-wise. But I think this is pretty decent, so hope you like it.

‘Ugh, this is gross! Why do people chew gums if they can’t carry out the responsibility to throw it properly?’

‘Ganadaramabasaa hakuna matata! A! Nanana nanananana nananananana.’

‘Shit! Where’s my key? Fuck, don’t tell me I left it upstairs. Arrgh! I hate myself.’

‘Alright, you can do this. You can do this, Minji-ya. You’ll get through the presentation. You’ll do great. Just breathe.’

‘Why does the cat do not meow back to me? This is a sad way to start the week.”

‘BABYYY! YOU’RE MY LADY! Oh? Be my lady? You’re my lady? Nevermind. BABY, YOU ARE MY ANGEEELLL!”

“STOP SINGING SO LOUDLY! YOU’RE SINGING IN YOUR HEAD FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE, HOW COULD YOU BE SO OUT OF TONE? AND STOP THINKING SO LOUDLY ALTOGETHER!” you slam on your table and shout out to everyone within your perimeter. You know today is going to be a tough day simply because you started on your schedule late, meaning that you have to grab your daily latte when the café is already packed with half-alive people.

You’re trying to eat your tuna sandwich on the outdoor table to get away from the crowded buzz of people giving up on life and hanging their hope on caffeine, but the few people outside wouldn’t allow you that. Well, frankly, it’s not them, it’s you. As overused as that sentence is, it’s still the truth. You won’t have to deal with people’s thoughts if you couldn’t read their mind. Yeah, it’s pretty cool, whatever. Try to live with it, though, you’ll see how tiresome it is. People just can’t shut up. That’s why you shouted in the first place. You don’t need people whining, cursing, or singing in your head. You know shouting wouldn’t help your case because you can’t control your ability and again, people just can’t shut up. But this is too much for your Monday morning.

“Thank you very much. That’s better,” you whisper to yourself as the ruckus inside those people’s minds reducing to a calmer ponder of is that lady okay? You take a sip of your hot latte—hazelnut this time—when an inward gasp dominates the string of thoughts in your head.

‘Oh no, the cat’s going to jump for her sandwich.’

You put your cup haphazardly to look at your lunch box—or breakfast box? Does that even make any difference?—where you placed your tuna sandwich to slam your palms on the table. And true to the man’s thought, a millisecond later, there’s a cat leaping to the chair in front of you and ready to spring for your sandwich if only you don’t put it away in a speed of a cheetah. Yeah, cat, you’re in no way a match for a cheetah. You growl at the cat, making it scurried away from your table, which in turn, makes you giggle. Oh, lord, please keep another mind readers away from me. It’s for their best interest, I promise.

Unbeknownst to you, the cat man—the man sitting on the table across from yours who warned you about the stealer cat—has been watching the little interaction you had with the cat. You clear your throat a few times before raising your head to acknowledge his gaze. “Um, thank you! For the warning,” you said with too much excitement for your taste. And although the man’s trying to politely smile at you, his frowning brows and incredulous eyes are pretty obvious, and just a second too late, you understand why.

He didn’t warn you. Well, at least, not vocally. When you shout while looking at the general direction of nowhere like you did after the false note of someone singing triggered your temper minutes earlier, it’s okay. Your earphones still can save you. But now that you address the man specifically, you know you’ve messed up.

“Um, I-I saw your panic expression from my peripheral view, so, you know, I just…” your words trail off with an awkward laugh.

‘Was I that panic, though? I was just—nevermind, where did she get that sandwich anyway, that looks good. It smells good enough to attract the cat, who by the way, didn’t even respond to my series of meow. But he did, though, when she growled at him. Well, he didn’t meow, he basically screeched. He should learn his lesson. But she was more cute than scary, though. Crap! She must’ve noticed I’m staring. Uh, her red cheeks are cute. Crap, Jun, stop it. Look away. Wait, she was talking to me, should I respond? I mean, it made me a little bit sad that the cat wouldn’t respond to me, so, she—ugh. Stop it, Jun. Stop it. AND STOP STARING.’

You clear your throat once more as you lower your hand and progress to close your lunch box, opting to escape the situation at hand as soon as you possibly can and continue your eating in the privacy of your office. But your hand halts when his thought streams into yours yet again.

‘No, no, no, no, she’s packing. Junhui, why are you like this? She must’ve been able to read what your thinking about just from your expression alone. Don’t freak her out like you freaked the cat out, I beg you.’

You almost choked on your saliva when he thought about mind reading, but fortunately, you both are thinking of a different mind reading. “Zero, one, one-zero, one-one, one-zero-zero, one-zero-one, one-one-zero,” you mumble, counting in binary to distract you from the cat man’s—Junhui—incoming wave of thoughts.

And distracts you it does, for you fail to notice he has risen up from his seat and planted himself on the chair in front of you within your count of zero to six, replacing the cat he was trying to get acquaintance with less than half an hour ago. “One-one-ONE!” you exclaims when you do realize the distance Junhui has cut off by sitting on your table.

“What?! Wh-wh-wh-why? Why? Why? Did you say nine-one-one? What-what happens? I’m-I’m sorry. Did I scare you? I-I-I just—“ Junhui doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he stands up—at least halfway—obviously not quite knowing what to do. His eyes are comically wide, and you can’t help but snort when you hear him repeating the words nine-one-one and why over and over again in his head. This is so ridiculous.

“Why, why, now you’re laughing.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” you snort, again, “I’m sorry. This is so funny—so, so funny.”

“What is? Why-why did you yell nine-one-one when I sat down?” he asks, his body still uncomfortably half-standing, weight leaning on his hand on the back of the chair, and eyes still blown wide. You take in his appearance and let out a small scoff. Despite his manly exterior, his eyes give out such an innocent air about him, childlike even.

“You can sit down,” you say, the trace of laughter still very much apparent in your words. “I didn’t yell out nine-one-one. It’s one-one-one. Don’t think too much about that, it’s just what I do. And yeah, you did kinda scare me. Just, uh, a little bit.” You bite your lips to prevent yourself from bursting into another set of laughter as you continue your binary counting, not wanting to hear his answer before he expresses it aloud himself.

Junhui drops himself on the chair, exhaling his much-needed air, head thrown back and eyes tightly closed. “You scared me!”

“What, why?” Now it’s your turn to look at him with wide eyes.

“Nine-one-one! What if someone else thought they heard nine-one-one instead of one-one-one and actually call nine-one-one?”

You chuckle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t see you walking from your table to mine, but you suddenly appear in front of me just like that! Of course, I was surprised. Why did you go over here in the first place?”

“Just because.”

‘You are cute.’

God damn it! Keep your counting, buddy! One-zero-one-one, one-one-zero-zero, one-one-zero-one.

“I thought I might regret it if I don’t introduce myself to you.”—one-one-one-zero, one—

“I think you’re cute, so—“

“ONE-ONE-ONE! DAMN IT! I don’t think he’d actually say that out loud. Oh, no, SHIT! You can hear me. Yeah, you can hear me.” You can see him nodding through your half-ducked head. “Hahahahaha, oh, lord, oh, God, oh, earth would you swallow me, right now, do it and I’ll be grateful for the rest of my life, he, hehe, hehehe, shut up, buddy, shut up, stop rambling,” you murmur. But from Junhui’s laughter, you know that he can definitely hear you.

“You’re cute,” he repeats, as though hearing it the first time wasn’t enough to cause shortage to the wires of your brain.

“Yeah, as cute as a clown can be. Now, if you’d excuse me, I need to go find a new face to replace this one. Apparently, I can’t save it from the burn of my embarrassment.”

“I’m Jun,” he states, but you don’t pause and continue to gather your stuff.

“I know that,” you blurt out, and then, “Shit! No, haha, no, I don’t know that. How could I know? See, gotta go! Need a new face!”

You’ve only walked a few steps away from your tables when Jun caught your arm. “You can read mind, can’t you?”

“What?!”

“Yes, you can. I can’t believe I meet another mind reader!”

“Wait, wait, what? You-you’re a—“

“Nope. My friend is, so don’t ask me how I know that you are, too.” Jun ends his sentence with a little smirk and as you start to wonder the reason why, he let you know.

‘So, you’ve known all along that I think you’re cute.’

“Stop that,” you warn him, but he persists.

‘Ah, so your cheeks were red because you heard me thinking that you’re cute. Is that why, huh? Tell me—wait, what’s your name? Unlike you, I can’t find out someone’s name from reading their minds, you know. “I’m Jun.””I know that.”’

“I didn’t sound like that! And you can speak, you know? Ask my name properly!”

‘Well, I guess I’ll let Minghao meet you and read your mind for me.’

“You can’t do that!”

You know that to the passerby, you look like a mad—or pathetic—person, whisper-shouting your words to a man who doesn’t even bother to reply. You huff and walk away from Jun, throwing your cup of half-empty latte to the trashcan on your way.

“Hey, wait!” he hollers.

You don’t wait. You refuse to wait. You’re a boss. You have your own office. You don’t wait. You make people wait. Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

“Hey, I’m sorry! What’s your name? Wait up!”

You hear his steps behind you, but you only bolt up running, shouting in glee, “I have no name! You won’t recognize the new face I’ll buy! You won’t find me!”

But then you stop short, for Jun repeats your name over and over again in his head. You whirl around only to see Jun holding the cup of coffee you’ve thrown away in his hand.

‘See, I know it’s true when I said to Minghao I don’t need mind reading. I’ll find you again. Miss—uh—one-one-one, is it?’

“Hey! I have a name, and you know it! It’s not one-one-one!”

‘Indecisive, I see. You said you have no name, and now you do.’

“SHUT UP!”

‘I ain’t talking, though.’

You turn away from him and stomp your way to the parking lot, determined not to think about the cat man anymore.

“Don’t miss me!” Jun yells out smugly.

Huh, now he’s talking, the audacity.

“Don’t call nine-one-one when you do!”

“SHUT UP, JUNHUI!”

‘Done it, sweetheart.’

God, and you thought he’s innocent.

[keylethwasleft]

Wise Mother, Coughing Infant

My first thought after I was born was "this feels familiar." 

Okay, yeah, I was just trying to make that sound dramatic and mysterious; my first thought was really billions and billions of thoughts all at once, but the familiarity of it was the real hook there. I guess that's not a really great way to demonstrate what I mean, though.

I was born in so many different ways and at so many different times, but I don't think this last one was technically "being born" so much as having the cosmos sorta mush its power into itself to figure out how I managed to exist where I did. I can only guess—what's it called, circumstantial evidence? One day, there was an empty piece of stretch of Death Valley, full of unhindered sagebrush, Joshua trees, and way more scorpions and coyotes than most people want to deal with. The next day, there was a human baby.

I wanna say that at the time I knew enough about living on Earth and being human and everything not to just start crying right away. I'd done it all before, you know? Plus, I did plenty of other species on top of that, and I could remember everything as far as my brains would let me. I at least remembered being a goldfish or a tiger or a whale or a mosquito. I wasn't the best at measuring time when I was doing those ones, on account of sea snails only barely know we're snails, let alone know how long a "year" is, as decided by some random animals on a planet bigger than I could've conceptualized. Do you know what a sea snail's brain looks like? Neither do I! A sea snail has no reason to know!

The point is, I had all this experience and memory to look back on, but it didn't help. It all hit me at once like a shot. It just made me feel like... It's just not something that happens, you know? And all I could think about was what it felt like to smell and taste things as a housefly, or a hundred houseflies, and I had every opinion anything could possibly have about that. And I was a baby and a parent that could remember what it was like to miscarry, and a parent that could remember holding my newborn twins, and a pregnant feral cat looking for a safe place to lay for a while.

There's so much time stretched through my head at once now, I still kinda don't remember a lot about the timeline between being a cosmically manifested nightmare baby and becoming the Coughing Infant. Someone calling herself the Wise Mother found me pretty soon after. That's something I know for sure, but she sure as anything on or off the Earth ain't the Wise Mother for real. I never bought into that hoax—or at the very least I had doubts most of the time—but she was the only one that knew what I was. That counted for something, I guess. I really didn't have a lot of options. Most newborn humans don't get a lot of freedom of choice, even if they have memories that exist eons longer than they have.

She named her messed up orphanage after me before I even knew it was my name. I mean, I had so many, I could barely manage not to react to every name I heard. Pretty sure most of them I might not have ever even had. Some of them might've just been regular words, actually.

But like, the orphanage was called Wise-Mother-Coughing-Infant, and it started as something that...

Okay. I wanna be really clear about something: memory isn't my strong suit. Getting this all in words is just as bad 'cause I can barely remember what point I was trying to make when I'm halfway through a thought. And I know, I know all of this definitely sounds like I'm trying to blow a bunch of smoke or like I'm delusional or trying to sell you something, but if you don't believe me, you can just toss this letter in the garbage and get on with your day.

The town, though. She told me it was supposed to start as an orphanage, and I don't even think she was saying that to talk down to me because she knew I wasn't a real child and she wasn't a real Mother. I think that was just a side effect. It was always a lie or a metaphor or a mix of the two though, because the first building there was a radio tower. I was barely managing speech around then, but I couldn't figure out how to comment on the fact that the thing wasn't constructed. It just was.

But all I said in my stumbling, stuttering child's voice was, "This doesn't look childproofed."

It feels so stupid looking back, even if now I know for sure the Wise Mother didn't actually care if I said something embarrassing like 24 years ago. I think it was probably more memorable dealing with this nightmare baby who simultaneously could and couldn't manage complex thought and fine motor control. I don't even know if that thing was capable of embarrassment, anyway.

Anyway, you might guess that the radio signals coming from that tower started all the awful things that happen in this town. You'd be completely wrong, but you might guess that. The truth is, the radio signals started the town itself to begin with. Everything else is the same as the way the Wise Mother talks up and around you and through you without meaning to. A side effect. The town itself is its own awful thing.

Wise-Mother-Coughing-Infant was only the tower, then I blinked, and I was learning how to speak, and there were other buildings. A motel, a pit stop, a casino. Just a few basics. Supplies and short entertainment for the typical Mojave traveler. The words I spoke to the people that actually passed through weren't English, though. I didn't understand that, either. I couldn't figure out why the people I spoke to never understood what I was saying. I don't even remember what it was. Probably four languages all at once, for all I know.

That's sort of how the town came to be, too. It was just basics, like a messed up baby of pure cosmic circumstance learning to stand on its own two legs, but then it starts thinking maybe it actually had four. People went through, though. They took it in stride. Not a lot of tourists heading to Reno, exactly, not like it is now. Mainly truck drivers making stops on their routes. People moving between cities for business or family. If a kid you don't know starts meowing and walking on all fours, you think it's kind of funny for a second, and you go on with your day, you know. It's that dry weirdness you expect on a night drive through a nothing-nowhere town in Nevada. Not even notable enough to tell your spouse about when you finally get some cell service.

But the radio kept pumping information to the town. By the time I realized I remembered how to work the sails of a ship despite having never seen the ocean, it was a fully realized ghost town, one big enough to catch your notice real fast. But it was more than that. The memory came to me when I realized salt was in the air, and it was still arid as any part of the desert could be, enough to make you cough, but I swore I could hear the braying of seagulls when I went to bed that night.

It took a while, but eventually I started to hate how much I had to depend on the Wise Mother for. I knew too much about the world for what and where I was, for how long I'd been in it. I knew the taste of copper in cotton fiber. I remembered thinking it was nutritious, and that was the only thing that mattered to me. I knew what flying above the clouds felt like. I knew what kind of vertigo you could feel past the point of vertigo, a millisecond after your parachute fails. I knew war and disease. I knew power and how little I had ever had. And even though my body had finally grown into something resembling a human, I could hardly do what other humans did. Ones my own age. Ones much younger or older.

I can't describe to you the knowledge of what a phantom limb feels like, but a lot of people feel like they understand it even if they've never felt it. People talk about it 'cause it sounds so fake, right? But it's real to so many. I kind of get pissed off thinking about it, because I feel like a sham when I know I have two arms and two legs, ten fingers and toes, but I'm still trying to compare it to that. But I've felt that before, in bodies before this one. Maybe it's still insensitive. Maybe I've written way too much in one sitting and my mind's racing faster than I can move.

My handwriting sucks. I used to be a calligrapher. I just can't hold a pen the way I know I could before, even if it wasn't in the past century.

I have to take so many breaks and even so I'm way more independent from that thing pretending to be a Mother now. I can't remember a lot, but I'm pretty sure I know exactly when the last time I saw her was. The radio tower is really big, you know, so it's more like I'm living in the same building than we actually live together. I can leave if my body's feeling up to it. She doesn't stop me. I don't think she cares a lot about what I do, just that I am. I still don't fully get what that even is, but I still think she wanted me to be more.

She still sometimes calls this place an orphanage. I think she might really believe it is one. I think how much she doesn't get about the world is the most dangerous thing about this place.

I think none of what I’ve been writing even makes sense anymore. I don’t know what I thought I was going to accomplish by writing this to you. I guess I thought you might make some sense of it. Maybe what I really wanted was to tell even one person and lie to myself that they could ever really get it. I guess I miss knowing other people. Humans get that way a lot. I should know, I am one, right?

If I actually send you this, then you know where to find me. Try not to die before that happens.

—Coughing Infant

[shawnpetermuffins]

03.15

March Mendes Madness

Writing prompt #15 Telling him you're pregnant

A/n: this one's a little longer. I kinda got carried away.

***

Dinner at the Mendes household has always been something I enjoyed. I love Shawn's family, and they've literally taken me in from the first time I met them. I'm probably as close to Karen as I am my own mother. Which is why it shouldn't have come as such a surprise when she started asking questions while I helped clean up after dinner.

"Are you okay, y/n? You barely ate anything tonight." She says subtly while she hands me the plate to put in the cupboard.

Yeah, I definitely wasn't keen on the smell of the meat Manny had cooked - it wasn't bad taste wise; Manny is a great cook, but scents were already starting to get to me, make me nauseous. This morning I almost threw up at the smell of my perfume that suddenly didn't remind me of the night Shawn and I first met. It was now way too strong and way too floral and I had to take another shower to get it off me.

"Um, yeah. I'm just not feeling too good, I guess," I fib, even though it's not a total lie. I just can't tell her before I tell Shawn. But the look she gives me tells me that I don't have to.

She already knows.

And that's when my eyes start to fill with tears.

"Come on, sweetheart." She puts an arm around me and walks me up to Shawn's old bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind us. "How far along are you?" She asks, not one to beat around the bush in this situation apparently.

"How'd you know?" I wipe at my under eyes, staring at Shawn's blue covered walls.

"You're looking positively more radiant," she tries, but I shake my head at the answer and she continues. "I'm a mom, y/n. I've been through this before. I know the signs. So how far along?"

I clear my throat, but it does nothing to steady the shakiness of my voice. "About seven weeks. At least that what the doctor said."

"So you did see a doctor?"

I nod, "I didn't trust the tests." I run my fingers over the spines of the Harry Potter books that are still on the shelf. "Even if there were three of them."

"Does he know?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

"No," I shake my head, a few tears escaping my eyes. "And I can't tell him, Karen. I can't." I take in a shuddery breath.

"Sweetheart, you have to. It's his baby too."

"But we didn't plant it. What if he doesn't want this? We're not even married. And with the new album he's working on, of course he's gonna want to tour after it comes out. It's just not the right time." I sit down on his bed and try to suck in my sobs. "At least, by not telling him, I can pretend he'll be happy."

"Oh, dear." She sits next to me and wraps me in that motherly hug that makes you feel so safe. "Of course he'll be happy. All he ever talks about is starting a family with you."

"Talking about it and doing it are two completely different things." I sigh, falling back on the bed and covering my face with my hands. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. We were supposed to be married, and I should have been farther in my career, and Shawn should be ready to truly settle down for a while. He's twenty-four, for Christ's sake. He has his whole life ahead of him. And I mean, I do too. I just graduated college, how is this gonna be okay with him?" I flail my arms in exasperation, hoping that gets my point across.

"Look at me, y/n."

I set my hands on my still semi-flat stomach and look up at momma Mendes.

"You can't plan these things. It never works out that way. You just have to be grateful that it's happening. And I know at twenty-two, fresh out of university, it seems like the world is crashing into you. You feel like you haven't even began to live. But," she takes my hand in hers. "Here, sit up for me."

I do.

"This baby is going to be your most prized possession. Your biggest blessing. And I can tell you, for a fact, that they will be loved immensely by everyone, especially by Shawn."

---

"Whoa, honey, were you crying? What's wrong?" Shawn wraps his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.

"Can we go home? I'm kinda tired," I ask into his chest.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go." He let out rushed goodbyes, but when we were leaving, Karen held me for a beat too long, which only made Shawn even more worried, I noticed from over his mother's shoulder. "Y/n. Honey, please tell me what's going on. Why were you crying?"

"Shawn, can we please not do this right now?" I reach for his hand, desperately needing the contact to keep me from falling apart.

He nods, but I can seem him stealing cautious glances at me every once in a while. He doesn't press anymore though, and I'm grateful. I just need a little bit longer to collect my thoughts. Because I know I have to tell him tonight or he won't sleep, too caught up in trying to figure out why I won't talk to him.

I'm standing in the bathroom, bare faced, in his baggy t-shirt and pair of leggings, with the three pregnancy tests sitting on the counter in front of me.

There's a knock on the door and I jump, "Y/n. Are you okay?" Shawn says through the hard wood.

"Fine," I call back, stuffing the sticks in the waistband of my leggings. "I'll be out in just a second."

"Okay," he says and I let out a deep breath, turning on the water, just in case he's still standing there. And since it's still dark under the door, I assume he is and wait for him to retreat before I come out.

I find him in the kitchen, dunking a tea bag in his mug. "Hey," I say, leaning against the island.

"Hey," he smiles softly at me. "I made you tea," he says handing me the mug that I didn't notice was sitting next to his.

"Thanks," I take the mug and press my fingers to the warm ceramic. "Shawn," I say after a few minutes of comfortable silence. I'm now sitting on the counter, and he leaning with his back against the sink.

"What's wrong, my love?"

I sigh, feeling the sticks jab at my skin. "I have to tell you something."

"Okay," he takes another sip of his tea before setting it down on the counter. "Is everything okay?"

I discreetly try to pull the tests from my waist band and brush a stand of hair from my face. "That depends on how you react to this."

"You're scaring me, y/n."

I lift my shirt and hold the sticks in my hand, the positive sign facing me.

"Is that-?"

I nod, placing two of the tests on the counter next to me. I hand him the one that very clearly reads 'pregnant.'

"Y/n?" He says after a while of staring at that goddamn stick.

I'm shaking, biting back tears. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" He closes the distance between us, taking my trembling hands. "Honey, why are you sorry?"

I sniffle as he wipes at the one stray tear, but I don't dare look at him. "You're not mad?"

"Why on earth would I be mad?" He takes my face in his hands, "look at me, my love." And he says it so gently that I can't not look at him. "Is this why you were crying back at my parents' house?"

"Yeah," I take in a shuddery breath.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared this wasn't what you wanted. With the album and everything, I didn't think it was time for a baby."

"No," he kisses my forehead and wraps me in his arms. "No, I hope I've never made you feel like that. I want this. Of course I want this. All I have ever wanted is to start a life with you."

"Really?" I ask, burying my head in his chest.

"Absoultely. Is this the most conventional time to have a baby? No, but that doesn't mean I don't want it. I do. I am so excited for this, y/n. I promise you I am. I love you. So so much, it's insane. And I'm going to love and spoil this baby for the rest of my life."

I chuckle in his shirt and he pulls me away just enough to see my face. "We are going to be just fine, my love. I promise. This baby will be loved unconditionally. I. Am. So. Happy."

I smile and peck his lips, "Me too," I whisper against his lips. "Me too."

***

I hope you enjoyed because I really liked this one!

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

[lovemesomesurveys]

Can you recite the Greek alphabet backwards? No. What social networks are you a part of? Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram. Does Snapchat and YouTube count? Which of your fields of interest are you a total expert on? I majored in psych, but I’m no expert. I don’t feel like I’m an expert on anything to be totally honest. What is one thing you will never understand? Why I’m like this. Do you blog? You’re lookin’ at it.

What was the last movie you watched? How The Grinch Stole Christmas. ^ Would you recommend it? Yesss. It’s a holiday classic. With whom did you share your last awkward moment? Who knows. I’m one big awkward moment.  When was the last time you got all dolled up? I honestly don’t remember.... I haven’t worn makeup in a year, I haven’t had my hair done in over a year, and for the past few years all I’ve worn is leggings and oversized graphic tees.  What do you think makes a person attractive? A lot of things. Out of everyone you know, who has the worst taste in music? I wouldn’t say someone has a bad taste in music even if it may not be my cup of tea. My family and I like a lot of the same music.  ^How about the best? I mean, like I said my family and I like a lot of the same music, which is cool. Can guys REALLY pull off skinny jeans? Yeah? What is one thing you missed out on that you wish you hadn’t? I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot in life. Are you honest, or more inclined to tell people what they want to hear? Honest, but that doesn’t mean you’re being mean or hurtful. Sometimes; though, I’ll say what I think they do want to hear. Like, I know someone who asks things she doesn’t really want answers to. Well, not answers that differ from her own. She just wants you to agree with her. Have you just recently started listening to any new bands? Not any new bands recently, but some artists. Like, I’ve started listening to Billie Eilish more lately. How many windows/tabs are open on your computer right now? 1 window, 4 tabs. What is one habit you had as a child? Nail biting/picking. ^Do you still have that habit today? Yep, it’s still alive and well. :/ Is there someone you wish you were closer with? Some of the people that I used to be close with before I pushed everyone away and basically disappeared from the world.  ^What’s stopping you from being closer with them? Me, really.  Besides air, what was the last thing you inhaled? I just inhaled deeply through my nose and smelled my air freshener. Which point in life do you think is hardest? (i.e. childhood, adulthood…) Adulthood. How was life going for you, say, six months ago? Shitty. ^Is that the same as today, or have things changed? Still very much the same. What is one opinion you have regarding love? Uhhh. Who was the last person to make you frown? My mom told me something that wasn’t good. ^Was anyone able to turn that frown upside-down? We talked about other things after. What was the last non-papery substance you drew on? I don’t draw. What is one thing you wish you had the courage to do? Get some things taken care of, health wise. What is your one true weakness? Hmm. When is the last time you had hot chocolate? Last year around this time.  Composition notebooks or spiral notebooks? Why? Spiral notebooks. Do you identify more with guys or girls? Just depends on the person. When someone you know is sad, how do you go about cheering them up? I kinda suck at that. I’m so awkward and don’t know what to do or say when someone is upset.  Has someone ever accused you of not being creative enough? Not to my face. I know I’m not a creative person, though. Starbucks coffee or Dunkin’ Donuts coffee? I’ve actually never had Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. I’d have to go to another city to get DD, and I don’t drive, so it’s not convenient for me to go very often. Do you crack under peer pressure? Yep. What do you think deserves more attention than it already gets? Hmm. What song never fails to get stuck in your head? I don’t know, various songs get stuck in my head. Who is your favorite vocalist? Why? Charlie Puth is definitely one of them. He’s a musical genius. Do you ever name objects? (e.g. MP3 players, guitars, cars, etc.) I have before. When was the last time you had a bagel? I don’t remember. Can you lick your own elbow? Nope. What time during the day/night is your mind most active? My mind is always active. It feels like a jumbled mess. What color ink does your favorite pen have? Black. What was the last thing you licked? My lips. Who was the last person in your bed besides yourself? Just me. Can you touch your tongue to your nose? No. What tends to distract you most? My thoughts. Is the perfect man or woman a myth? No one is perfect, but someone can be perfect for you.

[adenhamcreations]

WIP Questions!

Tagged by the awesome @fatal-blow! Thanks so much! This one really got me thinking deeply about my characters.

Under the cut since it’s 20 questions and kinda long.  :) 

1: Describe the plot in one sentence

A fresh out of high school girl discovers that she has the supernatural ability to erase memories and is blackmailed into starting a shady business using them. 

2: Pick one sight, smell, sound, feel, and taste to describe the aesthetic for your WIP.

Sight: A small, familiar childhood town. Little businesses lined up in the center, with residential areas sprawling from them. 

Smell: The smell of burning paper.

Sound: The voice of an old friend echoing through your head.

Feel: A person’s skin that you know well.

Taste: Bitterness from unspoken words. 

3: Which 3+ songs would make a playlist for your novel?

Yellowcard - “Paper Walls.”  Anberlin - “Paperthin Hymn.” Panic at the Disco - “House of Memories.” 

4: What’s the time period and location in which your novel takes place?

Present day, a small town in Alabama (name pending).  

5: Are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?

Not at all. It’s always been Sin Eater. 

6: What’s the first line of your novel?

“The first time I knew something was wrong with me was when I was eighteen.”

7: What’s a line of dialogue you’re particularly proud of?

A little long, but I really enjoyed writing this particular chapter/conversation:

“Sorry, thanks. I guess it can be hard not to get a little lost in the memories. I know that’s probably silly,” he chuckles bashfully. “No,” I shake my head quickly. “It makes perfect sense to me.” We come to another clearing. The grass is lush and tall here, an ocean of green. It scrapes the bottom of Aiden’s Jeep as we drive over it. The spot he stops at is another lovely view: you can see for miles. The city’s lights look like tiny dots from here. They must be switching on since the sun is going down. “This is really pretty,” I say as we exit the Jeep.“Yeah, it’s a little secret spot that I found. At least I think it’s a secret, since I’ve never seen anyone up here.” “Well, I like it.”“Yeah? I thought it might be kind of lame compared to the epic sunset yesterday.”“No way. I never did this kind of stuff growing up,” I admit. “You missed out,” he says, grinning. “Amber and I always liked exploring. We called them our ‘Adventures.’”“That….is freakin’ adorable,” I grin back. “Amber came up with it. She said it felt like we found stuff that nobody else ever did.” Aiden picks up a stick and throws it over the edge. We watch it but don’t see where it lands. “That probably wasn’t true, but as a kid...it feels like the whole world is yours, you know?”“I definitely understand that.”

8: Which line from the novel most represents it as a whole?

“I will face everything that I’ve been avoiding and move on with my life, no matter how hard or painful, no matter what comes my way.”

9: Who are your character(s) face claims?

I’m not sure I quite understand this question. Does it mean what we based our characters’ looks on?  If so: Probably a mix of people I know, to be honest. For instance, I had crushes on a lot of guys with brown hair and brown eyes back in high school, so Parker being Jayde’s high school crush, that’s how he looks. I also wanted Jayde and Jenny to look a little bit opposite of each other, so I based their looks on that criteria. 

10: Sort your characters into Hogwarts houses

I actually know NOTHING about Harry Potter... XD 

11: Which character’s name do you like the most?

I loved the name Aiden and just had to use it... and after I picked it, one of my best friends named their son that (only spelled differently)! She didn’t even know about my book yet. Meant to be. 

12: Describe each character’s daily outfit

Jayde - She likes skirts and wears them frequently, even in the winter I’ve drawn her a lot in jean skirts, because I used to wear them back in high school. To top it off, maybe a V-neck shirt in some bright color, I’d say yellow.

Jenny - Jeans too long for her legs, a hoodie if it’s cold. A t-shirt if it’s hot. She isn’t into showing off her skin or body.

Parker- A nice polo with stripes, ironed jeans and super clean tennis shoes.

Aiden - Nothing too flashy - A t-shirt and jeans, usually torn or with mud, oil, or some other stain on them.

Amber - Tank top and capris.

13: Do any characters have any distinctive birthmarks/scars?

Amber has a nasty scar on her right shoulder from her father. 

14: Which character most fits a character trope?

Probably Aiden. He’s the classic guy with a dark past who hides it with sarcasm and general jerkiness. 

15: Which character is the best writer? Worst?

I haven’t thought much of it, but i’d like to imagine that Jenny is the best writer. She’s quiet, but she’s also wise. Her recovery through her lost memories made her strong, capable, and unafraid. i could see her writing an amazing book about that.  As for the worst... maybe Amber? I don’t see her enjoying sitting at a desk typing away or writing in a notebook.

16: Which character is the best liar? Worst?

Jayde is the best liar. She becomes practiced at it due to her secretive job and when she’s hiding her true feelings from Jenny and Parker throughout the book. Amber is definitely the worst liar. She’s usually too honest and unafraid to say what she’s thinking.

17: Which character swears the most? Least?

Aiden definitely swears the most. Meanwhile, Jayde’s two best friends, Jenny and Parker, rarely do (probably due to their strict upbringings). 

18: Which character has the best writing? Worst?

Jayde may by default just because she’s my main character and gets the most spotlight. Not sure about the worst. 

19: Which character is the most like you? Least like you?

I think a mix of Jayde and Aiden are most like me. Jayde in the beginning was my younger self - not a care in the world, loved attention, was loud and silly and loved to laugh. But as she ages and reality hits, she becomes more somber and shy. She isn’t as boisterous and tries to accept herself as she is now (which I’ve had issues with). As for Aiden, he hides hurt and hard times by using jokes and a sunny attitude, which I’ve done so much before. As for least like me, I’d have to go with Vivian, Jenny’s (Jayde’s best friend) mother. She’s tightly wound and is usually passive aggressive towards everyone. She also can’t accept her daughter for being bisexual, which I couldn’t ever understand feeling that way. She tends to think she’s of a higher social standing than everyone else and wants her family to “look” a certain way to everyone outside. 

20: Which character would you most like to be?

They all kind of have sad backstories, so I don’t think I’d want to BE them necessarily. But I’d most want to be more like my OC Amber. She has a lot of crap happen to her and is silently strong in many ways. She accepts what happened to her, isn’t ashamed of it, but also doesn’t pity herself. She takes kickboxing to become physically stronger so the same thing won’t happen to her in the future, and she’s still trusting and open to making new friends. 

Tagging for my babes on my Sin Eater WIP tag: @metaphors-and-melodrama @snowdropwrites @drist-n-dither @jeeanmoreau

And any others! I wanted to tag some new followers too so that they can join the fun.  :)  @artsyclusterfuck @lgbtqiauthor @the-real-rg @agent-me @ren-c-leyn @jeteveux-siempre @toboldlywrite @jessawriter

[dothewrite]

Scenario for akaashi and makki with a sarcastic s.o who likes to bicker with them about literally anything and it kinda gets on their nerves but its also extremely endearing? Thanks!!

I fully believe that Akaashi is fully capable of channeling a little shit whenever he wants to. Which is quite often, imho. Hope you like!

It’s a quiet day outside in theheady heat of mid-summer and the sun is muted graciously by the shroud of greyforms lounging above the mountain caps; the ground so warm from the morningsunshine that the raindrops almost hiss as they hit the concrete, one waveafter another.

They’re the only ones still outside.In a stroke of luck, the café they had discovered the day before yesterday hadremained open despite the warnings on the news channel the night before and thecorroborating showers, but most of the chairs for outside seating have beentucked away underneath massive square-shaped umbrellas to preserve the delicatewood from soaking through.

Akaashi can feel the baffled, andoccasionally disgruntled, gazes lingering on the back of his head from the wise,sensible patrons who had opted to sit indoors in such weather. It’s a grumpy,good-natured sort of gaze, gazes from people who can’t really be bothered to beparticularly critical when there’s warm coffee tucked between their palms, afresh set of newspapers sprawled over the narrow tables, and a comforting humof steady rain against the tinted glass on an early afternoon.

He can taste the rainwater that’ssplashed into his own cup of black coffee, but it’s too bland of a taste forhim to consider buying another one and brave the grouchy looking owner who keptthe store. He takes a quick sip, and with a hand that brushes away the moistbangs that plaster to his forehead, he watches her lean forwards on the slattedtable, a yearning on her face almost as if to leap out into the dense showerand become one with the storm.

He keeps his phone tucked carefullyunderneath his jacket to keep it safe from stray droplets and lounges backagainst his stiff backrest, the scent of damp pine rubbing its tendrils into hisback.

“If you stick your head out somemore,” he cautions before taking another deep sip, “you’re going to look veryinteresting with only your face wet.”

He can see her shoulders shake oncewith a possibly befuddled laugh before she shrugs them.

“The dewy look might be in vogue.Think I’d look more interesting than you?”

He flicks his thumb up to move ontothe next BBC article. “Hard to say. I can be a very interesting man.”

She cranes her neck to give him aglance-over: a navy shirt, just like the one yesterday, and oh! Happycoincidence! The same one as the day before that too. His pants have changed,she’ll concede. Sometimes. On days when she hides the rest. His watch, the sameone he’d been wearing for the past four years—it being a graduation present isnot a viable excuse for lack of fashion—matched the small coloured twine aroundhis other wrist. She’d forgive that one though, considering she’d given it tohim as a matching anniversary present when they were young enough to rely onallowances for gifts. He hadn’t taken that one off either, ever. Not even forshowers, white-water rafting, nor torrential rainy days.

“Mhmm.”

They share a serene moment ofsilence before Akaashi puts away his phone and sighs, heavily, from the bottomof his old, weary heart. “I can hear you holding your breath all the way overhere. Go on, say it. What’s wrong with my outfit today?”

She shrugs again, this time muchmore dramatically. Empires could rise and fall on those bony little shoulderswith a drama that even Caesar would envy. “Nothing.”

“Is that so,” Akaashi says dryly. “Doesthat mean I can wear this again tomorrow without hearing another word fromyou?”

“It really depends on what sort ofwords,” she grins, and vaults a leg above the other to twist around just theright amount for Akaashi to catch her sharp profile against the drizzlingbackground. “If you’re filing a complaint, I can always replace those tricksywords with other ones you might find even less appropriate.”

“Yeah. And what exactly is wrongwith my shirt again?”

“Nothing,”she repeats emphatically, “if you’re on a tight budget and brought a single shirt on holiday with you toEurope.”

“I see. So, if it’s anywhere butEurope—”

“Then you can wear that same shirtall week at home with the exception of Sundays when you have practice?”

“Possibly.”

“Ah yes,” she says, throwing herhands up in exasperation. He’ll give it another few minutes before they startdrawing frenzied little diagrams in the air with her finger as a wand. “Let thescent of your armpits saturate into the corners of your shirt, and may itattract some unwitting females during mating season.”

Akaashi doesn’t give in to the urgeto lift his arm to double check his armpit. He is a much better man than that,and an even better one when he shouldn’t be. He leans back and settles down withthe comfortable knowledge that he’s washed this shirt quite thoroughly, and hisgo-to deodorant hasn’t failed him yet if she’s still willing to endure hispresence.

“You like how I smell,” he mentionswith a small smile, “but if you insist, I can always buy several more likethis. To reduce my, ah, scent.”

He is an expert indeed in keeping astraight face after many, many years of practice with exasperating fellowsaround him, and he lets it rest on his face with ease when she squints at him,brows stretching between a raise and a furrow, and her blunt fingernails diginto the armrests to keep her uncomfortable twist in place.

It does make her look rather poised,with crossed legs and a carefully positioned arch to her back. Akaashi keepshis eyes politely on her face, but his peripheral vision goes off, as they say,and swallows every inch that he can. He wonders if it’s part of why she oftenchooses to be so prickly about everything, even in good humour; if he took thatmuch care to look half as good when indignant about something, he’d probablyinstigate a lot more rows too.

For now, he thought, bringing hiscup to his lips, he was content with simply admiring.

“You’re insufferable,” she says,rolling her eyes.

Akaashi pretends to be stung. “Me?Do I smell that much?”

She grumbles something under herbreath, but she’s not quite taken her eyes off him just yet. He watchespatiently as she comes up with a different approach to the problem. After all,they have all afternoon, as long as they’re willing to shell out a few morecups of coffee.

“I smell fine, don’t I?” Akaashiprods. She really brings out the worst in him, and deep down he finds itendlessly entertaining. “Unless you want me to wear more cologne? Should Ichange my shampoo?”

“No.”

“Oh, that’s great,” he says, turninghis phone back on with his worst attempt at sounding enthused to date.

“It’s just…” she adds, and he hearsher chair grate against the coarse ground as she tugs it closer to him. “It’s always blue. And always a shirt. I know you wash your clothes, but youcan’t possibly expect that from anyone else.”

“Navy is a nice colour. What’s wrongwith blue?”

“It reminds me of the thing with thefriends on American television, but every day, all day.”

“Foster’s home for imaginaryfriends? He’s sky-blue.”

And muchless fit,he thinks, but he is a humble man, not prone to lapses in judgement, so thatcomment stays obediently in the back of his mind as he swirls the last dregs ofhis coffee around, watching the course grounds dance in a storm. The poker faceremains where it is, performing its role perfectly and any tells stay strictlyaround his lips in an unwilling upturn.

She’s far too busy rummaging aroundher mind for more analogies to properly notice, anyhow.

“Pictures,” she says triumphantlyafter a minute or two. Akaashi looks up from his sports news and gives this newattempt of hers another go. “Maybe I might be mistaken if you’re aiming for thetime-traveller look, but you’d look exactly the same in all the pictures wetake. New landmark? Same shirt. New city? Same shirt. New girlfriend? Sameshirt.”

“New girlfriend?” He repeats with aneyebrow raised. She meets his look defiantly, her angled chin daring him to firesomething back. “I wasn’t informed that I was in the market for a replacement.”

“Well perhaps you should read thebook, then.”

“Have you?” He asks incredulously.“Have you really finally gotten around to it?”

There’s definitely a small twitch toher mouth as her eyes narrow, twinkling a bit at the corner. “Wikipedia is thenew SparkNotes. My point still stands, time-traveller.”

Akaashi thinks about it for a while,tapping his fingers against his chin. “It’s not such a bad concept, really.”

“Your mum would be disappointed withthose photos. You know it.”

“But you’re so very good at makingme look attractive.” He rolls his eyes ever so slightly. Not enough to get himinto trouble, but enough so that it’ll stop pushing at his eyelids for freedom.“Or is it all just me? Or maybe, is it alljust this shirt?”

“Okay, let’s test that.” she thrustsher arm out at him and beckons imperiously with two fingers. Her eyes flash asif daring him to do otherwise. “Hand over that shirt, I’ll try it on Tetsu thenext time I see him.”

“As if he needs any help.” Akaashidoes a full-on roll with his eyes this time, with a smidgen less amusement. Hedoesn’t want to think about it—as much as he loves his irritating as all hellfriend—least of all in his own shirt, stolen unrightfully, and with her all over Kuroo. Alright, maybe shemight not be, but the imagery is very much unappreciated all the same.

He swallows the rest of his cooledand watery coffee in a single gulp and rests it on the damp table with morefocus than intended.

“Just my shirt? Does nothing elsebother you more than my fashion this morning?”

She gazes at him with an inscrutableexpression whilst Akaashi refuses to avoid her eyes, unyielding as hechallenges her in silence for something else to nag about, another tiny littleproblem that seems almost impossibly insignificant underneath the madness thatis drinking hot coffee on an equally hot and equally soggy noon. A slightbreeze, however, has begun to blow somewhere between their bickering, grazingalong the soft weeds that frame the banks of the Danube they face, and the rainhas quietened into a gentler morning shower. It would be walkable, albeit onlytowards their temporary home considering they’d be soaked to the boneafterwards, and Akaashi almost considers asking her. Almost.

He waits to see if she’s gotanything more to say that’s smart, snappy, and altogether exhausting onoccasions.

She’s still staring at him with aspectrum of emotions flickering in her eyes when she speaks again, words tingedwith a beleaguered sigh.

“If I think about it, then maybe thiscoffee. It doesn’t taste so good with rain. There’s this weird salty taste toit, but salt doesn’t evaporate, so it’s possibly entirely in my head.”

“A lot of things might entirely bein your head,” Akaashi replies, and he takes the side eye she shoots him withcomposure and grace. “Like how I’ve only got one shirt, ever.”

“You wore it yesterday. And the daybefore.”

“The washing machine is broken,love,” he reminds her patiently. “Our host hasn’t responded to me yet.”

“Alright, maybe not navy, but they’reall shirts,” she insists. She twirlsher empty cup around her fingers, seemingly unaware of how precariously it sitson her fingertips, and Akaashi can’t quite recall when she’d managed to finishit earlier than he. “I’m not saying you’re a boring person—” she shoots him alook heavy with meaning, “—but dressing to reflect that wouldn’t be a bad idea.On the contrary, in fact.”

They had been brainstorming in therain for activities they could head for to replace their outdoorsy excursion toseveral palaces that day, but Akaashi thinks he’s got the right idea in mind.Never say that he’s an inattentive, inconsiderate partner. A shade petty whenpiqued, perhaps, but that all pales in the various hues of sarcasm she paintswith when unoccupied.

Still, there is the way her nosescrunches up when she frowns, and the brisk way she rests her weight on herarms that has her stretched out into fine lines and soft edges that Akaashikeeps safely to himself whenever he watches her as inconspicuously as he canmanage. It just about makes it worth it, he wagers, tossing his new idea back andforth in his mind, to listen to her furrow her brows verbally again.

“Thrilling, you say.” He murmurs. Hereyes follow with suspicion as he slides his phone into his jacket pocket, zippingit up all the way for protection. “Are you sure this isn’t just a ploy to getme to take off my clothes?”

“Not in public,” she says calmly,but the twinkle in her eye has returned, and a reluctant smile eked out of her.“Honestly, as if I’d share.”

His cheeks, despite their longfamiliarity, still flare up against his will and Akaashi tries his best to coolit down with a hand as discreetly as possible. Her smile only deepens, and hehas to clear his throat to prevent his poker face from cracking.

He pushes back on his chair andstands up, abandoning his seat to the elements. When she doesn’t follow, heleans in with a brow elegantly raised and a teasing smile tickling the edges ofhis lips.

“Let’s go home.”

She looks at him as if he’s gone offhis rocker. “The weather,” she says slowly, pointing up at the grey skies, “wedidn’t bring an umbrella.”

Akaashi shrugs a shoulder. “That’sthe point.”

“You’llget sick.”

“Not if we run,” he begins to counton his fingers, “not if we take a shower, not if we turn on the heating, andnot if I make you a cup of hot chocolate after.”

Her eyes are almost sparkling, andAkaashi finds it a hopeless battle against falling right into them. “So, you’vehad the time to come up with this whilst listening to me all this time?”

“I can be a very interesting man,”he repeats sagely, and easily dodges the smack she aims at his arm. “Trust me.”He offers a hand to her, palm up, and a soft smile awaiting her answer.

Multitudes dance along the edge ofher lips, and Akaashi watches every single one as they drizzle past the precipicesof her cheeks and along the faint laugh lines blooming from her eyes. He doesn’tmind for as long as his arm doesn’t ache, and he could stand underneath a beigecafé umbrella with the splashes of rain drenching their trouser hems for amonth if it meant that she would be able to turn that diamond edged glint towardshim and place her palm in his.

She does, after a small shake of herhead, and it takes only a minute or two. He laces her fingers together,slightly clammy from the wet, and draws her up against him. He can feel herwarmth seep through his dreaded navy shirt, and when he tugs her closer, herhair frizzy from the weather tickles where he’s left the last two buttonsundone.

“You wanted thrilling, remember?” Hebreathes lowly into her hair, and without another warning, he jerks the both ofthem out into the pouring rain. She lets out a startled yelp, but Akaashibarely flinches as he turns towards the street and pulls her along with him ina steady jog.

He swears he’s about two timesslower than his usual morning jogs, taking her lack of exercise into account,but he’s still surprised when halfway there she begins to drag his arm back, clothesand hair utterly soaked and sluiced against her face with breathing as ifsomeone had punched her in the gut.

Akaashi pauses, feeling the rain nowconcentrating on his shoulders, and leans against the railing along the riverbank.

“Need a rest?”

“You—” she gestures vaguely in hisdirection, “—yes. Stop—looking so—”

“Composed?” He offers calmly. “Healthy?Not dangerously unfit?”

“Thankyou, Keiji. We all know how you feel about my cardio.”

“Non-existent?”

Finally catching her breath, shegives him a good glare. “Yes. That.”

Feeling slightly in better humour, Akaashilets his free arm fall and reaches out for hers. “I didn’t want you to get sick,but you love the rain.”

“What I said at the start,” she beginswith a snort, but seeing his confidence slowly melt into a thin layer ofconcern, she leans into him, ignoring his jolt of surprise. “It’s too late now,so let’s not worry about it. I brought medicine.”

“So did I.”

“Well, then.” She’s a good footshorter than him, but with a good firm tug, Akaashi allows himself to be pulleddown enough for a warm kiss on his cheek. “Let’s do a power walk back instead.”

The image popping unbidden into hishead makes him bark out a startled laugh, and he lets his smile stretch out aswidely as hers does, all trembling and chilly and feeling his toes curl fromthe warmth that seems to pulsate from where their hands are joined.

When she throws her head back to whipher hair back from her eyes, there’s a moment where steals his breath away; hisbeautiful little storm witch. She lets her head fall forwards again and thatmoment passes, the only thing that lingers is an absent beat in his veins and aturbulent grin that reaches her eyes.

“I could piggyback you, you know,”Akaashi says when they resume at a brisk stroll, both completely drenched andhis shirt pulling at his skin with each stretch. “I’d probably still be able torun faster than you with your feet.”

She sniffs. “I’m declining that onprinciple, you ass.”

Confident that nobody else will be ableto spot him in the midst of the downpour, Akaashi laughs as quietly as he can,and lets the smile stretch as wide as it wants all the way back.

He did have something else plannedfor the rest of the day; he wasn’t lying by any means. It just so happened thatit would come later at night, when the rain would die down, ready for astreet-lit shopping venture for the very thing that she sniped so much about.

That is, he’d tell her, after they’dtaken a shower, turned on the heating, and each with a mug of hot cocoa intheir hands.

Neither of them was in a particularhurry to do any of those things when their door finally closed behind them.Akaashi had slotted her against the back of it immediately, letting his fingerstrail their way slowly up the rises and dips of her sides. Their lights wereforgotten, the only sound in the apartment a cacophony of the storm outside,their dripping hair and heavy breaths ghosting against each other’s mouths. He leanedin, languidly tasting the rain along her skin.

Despite her unfocused gaze and breathhot against the crook of his neck, she managed a warm laugh, and reached outwith determined fingers to remove that dreaded navy shirt.

[orange-antics]

Eddsworld miscellaneous hcs

ok there's probably like 100 of these already or something, but I thought I'd add mine anyway, because hey, it's fun and I'll probably change or add a few later. (Also this ended up waaaaaaaay longer then i meant it to be wh o ops so uh be warned its pretty damn long-)

Tom:

Shortest! (i know it's normally either edd or tord, but after seeing saloonatics, I just couldn't resist the idea of the grumpiest one being the smallest. Cute right?)

Relatively strong arms, more fat around his stomach and torso then his legs.

Occasionally works gigs at local clubs and stuff for money.

Doesn't have much social media aside from Facebook so he can occasionally stalk his old college mates.

He actually likes sports like football and tennis. (His favourite sport is seeing how many bars he can hit up in one nigh-//shot//)

His hair smells like pineapple! (And the rest of him like booze-)

He's up for pretty much anything if he's drunk enough to have fun and not remember enough to regret it

But not bowling.

N e ve r bo wl ing

He's still got a scar on his left arm from The End. :( But Matt and Edd helped him to fix it up, so it's all good!

He's actually a pretty chill and sensible guy, and despite being snarky and sarcastic whenever he can, he genuinely cares about his relationships with people, scared that one day they'll get bored of him and cast him aside. He's really just a goofball with big city dreams of becoming a rockstar.

Spends like two hours in the shower crying and listening to MCR

His favourite show is Bad Education. It's good for when he needs cheering up.

He likes snacks and foods that are crunch, and salty, spicy, and sometimes savoury. So Crisps, Pringles, Doritos, chex mix etc.

Edd:

Second shortest/third tallest

Kinda chubby tbh but he's the BEST at hugs.

His forearm game is actually pretty strong because of all the time he spends making art to pay for their bills (because hey, someone's gotta do it amirite). You don't wanna head into an arm-wrestling contest with this guy.

Makes money by selling his art and also taste-testing all the latest cola products! (Just...not the diet ones).

Aside from a devianart, redbubble and maybe even a tumblr for art commissions, he doesn't really care about social media. Or regular media. Politics who?

His favourite sport? Seeing how many cans of cola he can get through on an especially difficult project. (Cricket always looked kind of fun though)

Smells like cola and not taking a shower in days because he HAS to get the lineart perfect and edd are you ok when was the last time you slept- (jokes aside, i can see him smelling like graphite and paints and sharpies from his art supplies).

Can pull the perfect poker face like damn son having a baby face sure comes in handy when lying to your roomate about why there's broken guitar strings hanging out of Ringo's mouth again

Has a scar on the inside of his eyelid from the time Tom 'accidently' poked him in the eye with a pencil (...may or may not be based off personal experience)

Edd is pretty friendly and open with people, he likes getting to know them and joking around. He's the Ultimate Punmaster ™, and loves nothing more to poke fun. He sees the world through the eyes of a cartoonist, and will never miss a comedic opportunity.

Be warned! He's actually fairly smart, and can read people well, knowing just how to really get under someone's skin. It's a good thing he can't be bothered with any of that though.

Gets his best ideas either in the tub or when hes just about to sleep. Because of that, he keeps a water-proof and regular notebook. Nearly had a heart-attack countless times because he accidently swapped them around.

Despite his complaints about absurd plot conveniences, he actually likes Doctor Wh- i mean "Proffesor Why", there's just something about the concept of time travel...he also likes cartoons! Like, a lot. He'll watch most anything and everything if it's animated and the writing is decent.

Likes anything sour, sweet, and chewy! So Jelly Babies, Wine gums, Sour patch kids, that kind of thing

Tord:

(Most of these are heavily based upon his life as Red Leader so sorry if you were looking for more domestic Tord. Maybe I'll do seperate hcs for that one day)

Second tallest! Quite a bit taller then Tom, a bit taller then Edd, just about average height, if a bit taller. He's closer to Matt in height then Edd.

He's actually quite well-built! You wouldn't think it because of the baggy hoodie he wears but he's got pretty good muscle, and his endurance and strength is well above the others. This mostly comes from the logic that he's been training and leading the Red Army, so it just makes sense to me that he'd resemble a soldier physically, yknow? AU-wise, or before he started the whole world domination thing, he'd be a little more scrawny, but he could still kick everyone's ass (he probably tried copying numerous anime battle stances lol-)

He's pretty well off, it turns out you can get quite rich by adopting some uh...rather unconventional means of money-making. Of course you could always say he just sold his inventions.

Does having your own private network of underground intelligence-gathering units count as social media? No? Nevermind.(He has a hentaihaven account-)

He likes dodgeball, archery, and you guessed it, arcade shooter games. Anything where he can point and hit something basically.

He smells like gunpowder, dirt, oil from machine maintenance and the cold? Like if the cold had a smell, he would have that smell, does that make sense? He also probably smells like Old Spice because idfk it just reminds me of him ok.

He doesn't exactly get out to socialise much, be prefers to stay at his desk, or curled up next to the fire with a mug of hot cider when he wants to relax. Sometimes Paul and Pat will drag him outside when they think he needs a breath of fresh air, and they'll go visit the nearest marketplace for food and other supplies. He likes strategic games like Chess or Draughts, and it's a good way to show off and get practice at the same time.

Scar-wise, he probably has quite a few from his fights. Post-the end, I'm not sure what would happen to him, since I've seen people go in a lot of different directions. I DO think he'd replace him arm with the robotic one, since that seemed too heavily implied to not happen. Regarding his face, I think the burns and stuff would probably heal over time, and depending on the technology in the future, he'd either still have some heavy scarring, or maybe he'd develop some kind of treatment so that it restores him to almost fully healed. He could always go the cyborg route and end up half-man half-machine like we see with future Matt and Tom.

(About the patch on his face, I have a theory about how he he aquired that scar/injury. See, I don't think Tord founded Red Army by himself, no. I think he was introduced to it by Paul (who we see in the same classroom as them in Poweredd) who was kept back a few years cause....uh...yknow- Anyway I have a theory that Tord eventually climbed the ranks until he became second-in-command, and he then murdered Red Leader and took his title. Their fight is where he got that injury. It's not really canon-supported much, but I find it an interesting concept!)

You've probably guessed, but I kind of disgree with Tord's portrayal sometimes. I think I prefer the darker, meaner side to him. I wouldn't say he's (completely) evil, but I'm not really one for the whole "self-hating, regretful angsty Tord who just wants some love and support" and stuff. I mean, it's cute with ships amd fluff, amd ideally he does make amends and rejoin the group, but I just like the thought that he's genuinely not a nice guy yknow? Like, he's actually done some fucked up stuff, and The End is probably just one case. (Of course this is all opinion based so feel free to disagree if u wanna wheeze-)

Has the WORST sleeping schedule. Has been known to fall asleep in the bath/shower.

He prefers movies to shows. His favourite is the Kingsman series (he can relate on many different levels).

Likes bittersweet things, (just like his personality amirite-). So cake with coffee, or tarts, liquorice, hard candy, that kind of thing.

Matt:

(My favourite-)

He tol. Tallest of them all!

Someone once described him as "borderline twink" and tbh i agree. I feel like he'd have a slightly feminine figure (which is perfectly normal!) and he both rocks it, and knows he does.

He works at a nail salon every now and again, his self-confidence and bubbliness makes him get along well with customers. (Also Matt would definitely wear nail polish ok dont even try to convince me otherwise. Actually speaking of,)

He has EVERY kind of social media possible. Instagram, twitter, facebook, tumblr, facebook, snapchat, you name it! He's especially prominent on instagram. He likes to keep an ~aesthetic~

He likes gymnastics and dance, activities like that. Anything which puts him in a creative spotlight. He'd probably take up acting classes, and then insist on only being given monologues.

He'd probably have quite a pleasant and nature-y smell? Like uhh citrus-y, pine tree, a hint of flowers, that kind of thing. Although he'd DEFINITELY slap on way too much cologne on a date or something and end up smelling like he just emptied out a bottle of febreeze.

He'd probably go out quite a lot! I can see Matt being a social butterfly, his friendliness and general likeability probably mean that he's got a few friends and stuff around. I can also see him as the kind of person who'd enjoy taking walks in the park, sitting below a tree, that kind of thing. He probably runs a self-love session (that works a little TOO well). He wants to get out there and show off his beautiful face, so it doesn't take a lot to drag him outside (provided you keep a mirror on you, that is).

He doesn't really have any physical scars. I mean, i do hc him with freckles, but they don't count so. he has a mental scar. After he hit himself with the memory eraser gun, he completely erased his memories. It took a while for him to settle onto the personality he has now. His face was the one thing that he knew for certain held a sense of familiarity and stability, so that's partly why his narcissism boomed so much. He sometimes gets random flashbacks of being a zombeh leader, being less of a nicer person, and it can be quite unnerving for him. He also has other memory issues, which is why he can forget things so easily, and comes across as an idiot most of the time.

He can be quite oblivious, but I dont think hes a total idiot. He can read people fairly well, and is emotionally intelligent. He says stupid things sometimes despite knowing they'll get a reaction, just because he wants to, and thinks that life should be as fun and full of joy as possible. He's too trusting, and wants to see the good in everyone. At the end of the day, if you disrespect him (and his face), you'll see that he can be more then just the nice guy.

LUSH!! Matt is HERE for all those lush products. I'm talking bath bombs, lip scrubs, shower jellies, all that good stuff! And ofc he has like 100+ products for his hair and skincare routine, because let's face it, it's Matt. I also like to think he owns a bunch of bath toys and rubber duckies, and like the kid at heart he is, he'll sit in a bubble bath playing with them, and re-enacting all of their adventures.

He mostly prefers youtube videos over TV, so you bet he's subscribed to all the beauty gurus, vloggers, people like that. He does think children's cartoons are nice to watch though, so every once in a while he'll force Tom and Edd to sit with him and watch the latest season of My little pony.

He likes anything sweet and fun to look at! Especially if it's trending, so he can post pictures of himself eating/drinking it. So if there's another rolled ice cream/new starbucks-ccino/unicorn themed food item floating about, he'll probably be trying it.

(Ah man this turned out way longer then i thought. It went from simple headcanons to like full blown theories whoops- maybe i should make seperate posts if its too difficult to read? Anyway let me know what you think nonetheless!)

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

A non fan’s “VIP” experience at the Witness tour

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the biggest Katy fan to say the least.... but my 60 year old mother is, and after being financially unable to attend any of Katy’s past tours, nothing was stopping her from seeing Sydney’s opening night of this one, even if Witness wasn’t her favourite album. Likewise, as this was a mother’s day gift, nothing was stopping me getting her the best sitting tickets in the place. I also want to make a quick note to say that a lot of the negative stuff I have to say is at the start of this post with the positive being down the bottom, so if you’re going to attack me for ‘being a hater’, read the whole thing first.

So we showed up at 6:30, right when the VIPs were being let in. Getting in was no issue. The staff checked our tickets, gave the bumbag full of VIP stuff, reminded us we have $10 worth of food and $10 drink on the VIP vouchers (which tbh is pretty generous, typically it’s $5 each) and directed us in. Once in, the plan was to get food, drink, merchandise and have plenty of time to spare inside considering part of this VIP package was supposed “shortened VIP lines”. Likewise, according to the email I received, non VIP ticket holders were not meant to be let in until 7. None of that went to plan...

We started at the closest food and drinks place... except it wasn’t a proper food place, just a chocolate, chips and drink place. According to security, there was only 2 proper food places; on the very top floor and on the bottom floor on the other side of the arena. Mum and I then modified our plan to get drink there, then the merchandise which was right in front of that place and finally the food. So we hop in the VIP line and some guy comes and tells us that it’s quicker just to get in the normal line, so we do, much to the employee at the counter’s dismay. I don’t know if he was double booked jobs wise for this event or was only meant to set up, but he was adamant that he had somewhere else to be and demanded to know why we were in his line. After a second group was sent to the line, he called over the bloke who directed us there and told him off. He also seemed unaware that VIP ticket holders were told that the $10 drinks voucher could be used on alcohol as my mum tried to get a wine.

So that was all an annoyance, but it was quickly cleared up and we got our drinks and went to the VIP merchandise line. By this point it was 6:45. Like I previously mentioned, non VIP ticket holders were let in a lot earlier than the time indicated on the email I got meaning that the normal line had hundreds of people waiting... and yet it still moved faster than the VIP line which had no more than 10 people. Granted, there was only one guy doing the VIP line which seems silly given how slowly it was going. Anyway, it hit 7 and quite literally only 2 people had been served in the VIP line so I said to mum that I’d grab the food considering that had to be done before the show too. She was reluctant as she hates using the bank card, but she also didn’t want to get the food so that was that.

I decided to go around the arena to the stall on the same floor we were on. While there, I went through a massive line, was held up through a fight because one of the cashiers wouldn’t accept cash when he should have and then had to call over the boss for my order because the cashier thought the vouchers I had were homemade and I was trying to steal the food. All up, it took about 25 minutes from the moment I left the merch line to get the food and come back. None of that really bugged me; I only put it in to put the timing of what I say next and to put something I say later into perspective. My mother was only just reaching the front of the VIP merch line when I got back.

All up, we got to our seats at about 7:35. Zedd was running late and started at 7:45 so we didn’t miss anything. Speaking of Zedd, he was alright. Took me a few songs to realise he wasn’t just playing his own stuff, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Honestly though? Literally nearly every single arena show in Australia has a DJ for the opening act regardless of who the main act is so he was kinda meh for me. I will give him that he had a lot of energy though.

After Zedd, I went to eat my half of the rolls I had brought. From the minute I bit into them, it was clear both through taste and smell that something was off. Literally the small/taste of vomit was all around me and mum could tell. We chucked them out immediately and I prayed that I wouldn’t end up with food poisoning today. And before someone makes a comment about concert food, this is far from the first time buying these rolls there and typically they are fine, though typically I buy them from the upstairs place, so lesson to be learned there. Anyway, I decided to go up, buy more drinks and an ice cream each to get the taste out of my mouth. When getting that, the barrister decided trying to watch the concert for herself was more important than my order. Thankfully her boss was there and made a comment about how I’d probably like to see the show too considering the money I paid, to which she scowled.

Anyway, I got in halfway through Katy’s first song. The first thing I noticed about the show is how little time she spent on the side of the stage we were on which was a little disappointing given how much we had paid for those tickets. I mean, I get it, the walkway was on the other side, but I feel if both sides are paying the same amount of money, there should be equal viewing... then again, I suppose you could argue that because we had the b side stage on our side, that should make up for it.

I’m going to be honest with you, the second half of the concert was far superior to the first to the point it felt like 2 different shows to me. Perhaps this is because I’m not a fan, but the first half felt underwhelming at best and awkward at worst. Watching Katy sing Teenage Dream in what I could only describe as a ‘40 year old business mother’ outfit while girls who looked like they jumped straight out of her California Girls music video danced around her was weird. Even her in the same outfit without the jacket felt younger and probably would have fit the song better. Likewise, her having an extended skit with the superbowl shark felt like a strange attempt to be like “Yeah look at me! I know all the memes and can laugh at myself!”. And her ‘being angry’ at Australian culture really just made me go “... do you really not have enough hits that you have to fill your time with this?”. But once again, maybe I’m just not getting the joke because this is not my fandom. I will however say that I think the effort Katy went to to recognise her band and dancers was great and a trend I hope continues with all artists.

For me the show really started to pick up with Deja Vu. The visuals went from meh to anywhere from cool to gorgeous for the rest of the night. The stage work, including the dancer on the pole felt like they added to the arrangements. Hell, even the parts in between acts felt more engaging and exciting.

My personal favourite moment of the show was watching as she sung Wide Awake sitting on that planet making her way to the b stage. It looked absolutely gorgeous and felt creative to the point where it’s definitely one of the best ways I’ve seen an artist go to their b stage. And while I wished she would have sung Thinking Of You over See Me Into You after hearing that she did for some shows this tour, the moments kept coming. Watching Katy reach out her arm first to hold her fans hands, inviting an 8 year old girl on stage and especially reassuring the girl that she could be a singer if she wanted was heartwarming. Hell even cracking a joke about drugs after hearing that 8 year old say she saw a kangaroo jump on its head felt genuine in a way the first half didn’t. Quite frankly, the only thing I would have changed about the second half of her set is that with it being the final encore song, I wish that she would have sung the majority of Firework on the main stage, only going up the runway at the end rather than doing 90% of the song there.

All up, if I had to compare it to the concerts I typically go to, I’d have to say that the first half felt like Taylor Swift’s 1989 tour; very business minded and very clear that she was trying to prove/achieve something whereas the second half felt more heart filled mixed with energetic, almost reminiscent of the Speak Now tour. In terms of whether I’d go again, if mum wanted to, I’d probably tag along. However, I’d be reluctant to buy VIP tickets again.

[foundcarcosa]

cccviii.

Do you still remember your first kiss? >> Yes. It’s kind of branded into my brain for a couple of (not nice) reasons. Are you happy with where you are relationship-wise now? >> I’m happy with the relationships I have. I wouldn’t even consider myself emotionally available for any others if I wasn’t. How many kids do you want to have? >> One. I suppose we should think about a pair for the sake of said child not being lonely, but I don’t know. There are possible pros and cons to both situations. Have you ever purposely given someone the wrong number? >> No. Who’s the last person you smoked weed with? >> Sigma.

Are you mad at the last person who called you? >> --- Who was the last person you talked to, other than family? >> Sparrow. When was the last time you flew in a plane? >> This time last year. Is there a girl you absolutely can not stand? >> I mean, somewhere, definitely.

Have you ever set anything on fire? >> Sure. Have you kissed the last person you texted? >> Yes. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos? >> I am always up for more body modification. I just don’t have the money for it. Do you find tattoos attractive in the opposite sex? >> Generally, sure. Who is the person you have hurt the most? >> I don’t know. That isn’t really my thing to determine, I don’t think. Who is the person that has hurt you the most? >> That’s also difficult for me to determine because... shit is connected. No one person is wholly responsible for the damage done to me, because sometimes the damage they caused wasn’t a direct product of them but of... a combination of nature, nurture, and whatever era of life I was in. So while I can blame them, it’s not the full picture, and once you start getting into this stuff it gets real wibbly real quick, so. Yanno. Have you smoked a cigarette today? >> No. Are you listening to any music? What song? >> Yes. Conformist, by XTRMST. It’s a Davey Havok project I’m not entirely sure how I feel about, but I do like a few of the songs at least. Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? >> No. Is there anything silver near you? >> I mean, probably, but I’m not going to turn the light back on to check. Has anyone ever mistaken you for someone else? >> Yeah, a few times. Who are you talking to right now? >> Blayke on Discord, telling me more about that damn MTG Planeswalker that I now can’t stop thinking about. Enablers, one and all... Have you cried this past week? >> Yes. Say your last ex walks up to you and hugs you, what do you say? >> Relationships have been so nebulous for me lately (I guess part of that is my fault, stupid Mercury making it hard for me to put boundaries around things until it’s too late) that I’m not even sure who my last ex actually is. I never actually broke up with Phoenix, but we... haven’t spoken in months.... so........???? I guess I deserve this, lmao. Anyway, using Phoenix for the sake of simplicity: I don’t know what I’d say, but I’d be confused because like... we don’t live anywhere near each other. Would you date someone right now if they asked? >> Depending on who it is, sure, maybe. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? >> Probably. Who was the last baby you held? >> Vlad’s son. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? >> I think Lucian’s (of misterlucian.tumblr.com fame) birthday is either the day before or the day after mine. And I think darzie’s is really close too, and Bisho’s... I feel like I do know someone on tumblr whose birthday is the same day as mine, but I might just be getting it confused. Would you ever get a tattoo? If so, of what? >> I have three tattoos, but of course I’d definitely get more. Have you purposely flirted with a friends crush? >> I don’t think so. Do you have any siblings that moved away to college? >> No. Have you had any beer this week? >> Yes. Is there anything you need to talk about with someone? >> Probably a lot of things. But “someone” is... whomst???? I’ll stick to Can Calah for now, because no one else has proven trustworthy with this chaos. Are you wearing a necklace? >> Yes, always. What does text 10 in your cell say? >> You know, phones don’t do it like this anymore... Who was the last person who cried around you? >> Uh... well, like the only person I see on a regular basis is Sparrow, so I’m gonna assume it was her. What was the last thing you cried about? >> Being ill from drink and irrationally hating myself for it. (I didn’t really hate myself for being blindsided, I hated myself for being so hard-up for social interaction that I stayed at Gardella’s longer than I planned to and let Erin give me tastes of drinks that interacted badly with what was already in my system.) Who’s the last guy to give you roses? >> I’ve never received roses from a guy. Do you think relationships are hard? >> I think being a person is hard, and being a person with another person in a way that fits together well is also hard. But I think that sometimes another person is okay with that, and if you’re honest about it with each other, and let each other mess up at it sometimes, it doesn’t have to be as hard as you’d imagine. Did your parents do drugs when they were younger? >> My father didn’t. What color are your eyes? >> Dark brown. Do you listen to music while you fill out surveys? >> Yes. Would you date someone that had a different religion from you? >> If that religion was Christianity or Islam, it’s extremely unlikely. If that religion is another, then it’s possible. It’s really a case-by-case basis because people react with religion differently. (Christianity and Islam are harder to be okay with because the fundamental tenets of those religions are counter to how I live my life, and the way people interact with those religions is often even more counter to how I live my life. There are things about both religions that I appreciate greatly, obviously, but I... I just can’t.) Would you rather have nice eyes or nice lips/smile? >> Well, see, I have both, soooOOOoOOoo Do you have any secrets? >> No. What’s your current problem? >> The littlerbox odour in the closet is never going to go away. Ever. For a year Sigma kept a litterbox right on the carpet in there and was, true to form, terrible about cleanliness, and now the smell is just. Baked the fuck in. And I have to live in here. And smell it. And it’s like a fucking ghost that I can’t exorcise. And operating at this level of sensory processing makes it an even worse time for me. It’s such an appropriate legacy. I’d like to laugh about how appropriate it is, because it’s kinda funny when you’re at a distance... but I am so deeply, coldly angry.

[solastrasz-blog]

All about Solastrasz

Tagged by: @scarletlioness (well, technically you tagged Kina but since I already did one for her, figured it could be an excuse to do one for this guy too since he’s pretty new anyways lmao)

FC: At the moment, he doesn’t have a fc. He does have a voice claim though! the Narrator from Bastion.

Name: Solastrasz, more widely known as Sol’alore Firewing.

Age: Exactly unknown, he stopped counting after the first few centuries. He would be considered a middle aged adult, though.

Height: 6″5″ as an elf, in his true form he’s average

Weight: 250 lbs (claims its muscle mostly. Nobody really wants to argue that he’s kinda chubby. Though both would technically be correct.)

Eye color: Golden

Hair color: Dark Brown as an elf

Date of Birth: 5/25

Zodiac sign: Gemini

Shoe size: 12 (US) again, as an elf. Good luck trying to put a shoe on a dragon otherwise.

Favorite Color(s): Amber, Burnt Sienna, Lavender

Favorite smell(s): Anything with a sweet smell

Birth Gem: Emerald

Race: Sin’dorei // Red dragon

Talent(s): Skilled in hand-to-hand combat, anything that requires being stabbed (or stabbing) with a sword, downing an entire pint of booze in a few seconds, flat.

A wish they have always wanted: To return home.

An item they hold dear to their heart: He wouldn’t consider himself materialistic, items can be replaced and thus aren’t as important to him as living things.

Favorite sound(s): The sound of rain, soft music/singing, birdsong

Fear(s): Never returning to Wyrmrest Temple, being outed as a Red, dying in general, really the list could go on and on..

Accomplishment(s): Does running away from home count?

Your muse’s catchphrase(s): “..I’m too sober for this shit.”

Likes: A good drink, honesty, respectable people (though his definition of “respectable” is questionable), nature

Dislikes: Basically anything else

Birthmarks?: None

Something about your muse that is different from everyone else:  He tries to purposefully blend in so hopefully not much sticks out.

What makes your muse cry?: Mostly what happened with Korialstrasz in the Twilight of the Aspects

What makes your muse happy?: Genuine happiness is rare for this drake. He’s a pretty good actor, though.

What makes your muse laugh?: Shitty jokes, mostly

Does your muse love his/her parents? Why or why not?: Yes, he has a lot of love and respect for both his parents.

Does your muse have any friends? Which friend is closest to him/her?: He’s got some, yes. Though none he thinks is particularly close to.

Your muse’s favorite food?: “all of it”

Does your muse follow a religion? If so, what is it and what are their beliefs?: He wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a religion but he’s found himself praying to Eonar the Lifebinder as of late. As the Titan that originally blessed Alexstrasza with the creation of the Dragon Aspects, he felt it was right to pay some kind of homage to her.

What would get your muse to fall in love with someone?: Despite his front of being tough-and-rowdy, “nothing can hurt me” type, he genuinely wants someone that would care for him, in every sense of the word.

Has your muse ever killed/murdered somebody? Why did they do it and what was their motive? On the battlefield? He’s killed several, he’s sure. But he’d never label himself a murderer.

Does your muse have a type when it comes to physical attraction?: Not particularly, no. His tastes varies.

What does your muse find endearing personality wise?: Someone that can either keep up with his drinking, his jokes, or really just him in general

What is the stupidest/ most illogical thing your muse has done and why did they do it?: Leaving Wyrmrest was pretty stupid and illogical, now that he’s had time to think about his actions. All because of his anger.

Tagging:: @warcraftingfox you already did one for jasculs so maybe Momo??

[peacekeeper-xiv]

Honest Q&A: Round 5! Table

Glad to see you all here. Let’s jump right in then. It’s been a while and our reader’s will surely be itching to learn more about Eorzea’s adventurous types.

If you were ruler of your own country what would be the first law you would introduce?

Lloire: “Tch. I would introduce a law that changed our system of government to one more akin to Ishgard’s House of Commons system so that whatever fools put me in charge stood a better chance.”

K’risa: “Um, doesn’t the fact that you wanna do that make you a good choice for a ruler? Anyways, I would introduce laws that were in place to severely punish anyone found tempered or assisting with tempering.”

Beta: “No, no, miss Mau. He’s right. A leader’s gotta be willing to be willing to NOT be sacrificial. The General has to know when –they- have to withdraw from the field, and Lloire just wouldn’t ever be able to do that. For me though, I’d put strict regulations on Magitek use to coincide with the increased production.”

Chadrick: “The feck? Tha three o’ ye can actually think o’ this shyte? Nay lads, Ah’m nay rulin’ anyone. Ah suppose me first an’ only law would be t’ abolish tha government so each man was free.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is banning slaves or people who are being worked ;like slaves for little gil.”

Benedict: “I consider myself a man of the gods. It would be improper for me to rule over others. My beliefs would unfairly cloud my judgment.”

Chance: “A merc country? Heh, a king who fights his own battles. Would be a sight, yea?”

Felix: “Only fools rule. A ruler is always a puppet. A puppet to those with coin, to the popular opinion, to blackmail, or any number of other things. Why rule when you can manipulate from the shadows? I’d never get suckered into being any country’s ruler.”

 What's the longest you've gone without sleep (and why)?

Lloire: “A week. …People I cared about were trapped within the void. I spent a week fighting to free them and only finally slept when Soren drugged me.”

K’risa: “A week? How are you not dead? No. I don’t wanna know. Longest I went was still less than a day. What? Girl needs her rest!”

Beta: “Um, well… crankshafts… I think it was three days? I was building something important.”

Chadrick: “T’was bout twenty-four ‘ours. Was travelin’ through some rough territory. Could nay afford t’ sleep, so, we pushed through.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is sleeping every day. It is only way to stay strong, yes?”

Benedict: “I am in agreement with Master Taqalid. Proper rest is important for the body and mind.”

Chance: “Three days. Dravonians had us pinned down.”

Felix: “I didn’t count, but I recall it was several weeks. I had an experiment that required my undivided attention and well, with the right potions you can forgo sleep. Albeit at a slight degradation of your capacities.”

 Aside from necessities, what one thing could you not go a day without?

Lloire: “A book to read.”

K’risa: “My blankets! What, it’s all your fault. Talking about not sleeping made me sleepy!”

Beta: “Coffee!”

Chadrick: “Seein’ a beautiful lass smile. Nary a soul should e’er do without.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa has been without, yes? So, there is nothing he is needing so much he cannot be without.”

Benedict: “Prayer. I only bring it up as a non-necessity because so many others live without it. I could not.”

Chance: “A knife. You should always have a knife.”

Felix: “I think I will agree with dark and broody over there. Constantly learn. You should read every day.”

 Which of the five senses would you say is your strongest?

Lloire: “Smell, strange as might seem. I guess I honed it over the years learning to cook. Taste is important and all, but you smell the food well before you ever taste it… and the smell lingers long after the food is gone.”

K’risa: “I unno, hearing I guess?”

Beta: “Sight for sure. Picking things apart and remembering exactly what I saw and where a screw or bolt was… Yea, definitely sight.”

Chadrick: “O’ now, this is an easy one. Touch. Easy. ‘ands down.”

Aasifa: “Friend Chadrick, Aasifa worries you are meaning hands down skirts with way you are saying this. For Aasifa, it is hearing like friend K’risa. He is training whole childhood to be hearing intruders.”

Benedict: “I would have to say taste. Mine is overly strong, so I prefer more ‘bland’ flavors.”

Chance: “Smell for me too. Different uses though.”

Felix: “My sixth. Next question.”

 Which of the five senses would you give up if you had to lose one?

Lloire: “Given previous… injuries, sight. I’ve already started training to be without it. I’d miss it for sure, but I would miss the others more.”

K’risa: “Really? You’d go blind before not being able to cook? You’re a strange one. For me, it’d be smell.”

Beta: “I’m kinda with miss K’risa Lloire. It’s crazy to go blind instead of not being able to smell. You’d get yourself ki--…. Oh… Nevermind, it all makes sense.”

Chadrick: “Well, Ah mean… Ah’d lose me sight before me sense o’ touch… but alas, Ah must agree with tha others… Smell can go first.”

Aasifa: “Hmm, Aasifa is thinking touch. If he is not feeling, there is no pain, he is greater fighter, yes?”

Benedict: “I’m not certain that would be wise Master Taqalid. Pain is a warning so we know how far to push ourselves. I am with the others. Perhaps a lost sense of smell might even out my sense of taste.”

Chance: “Sound I guess. Wouldn’t have to hear as much whining from people at least.”

Felix: “An interesting question… though I have to agree with the majority. Smell is the least useful sense in the lives we live.”

 How would your friends describe you?

Lloire: “Depends on the friend I imagine. Soren’d tell you I’m a stubborn ass who always thinks he’s right. Siben’d tell you I try to hard and am quick to temper. Most everyone would likely agree that I’m injury prone I suppose.”

K’risa: “Um, I guess they’d say I was a hard worker.”

Beta: “Injury prone? That’s how you describe it? It’s not like you slipped and fell on a knife yanno. Um, most’a my friends would probably say I’m a workaholic and I’m bad at multitasking and should eat more.”

Chadrick: “Well, shyte. Ah’m nay sure. A few’d probably say Ah was a cocky bloke.”

Aasifa: “Friends have said before, describing Aasifa is difficult thing. But most are saying he like like the wind.”

Benedict: “I would hope they’d describe me as warm and caring. Protective.”

Chance: “And big Benny. As for me, ain’t too many I call friend and fewer still I’d give a fuck what they said.”

Felix: “As the guy you call when shits gone to hell and you need a way out.”

 What did you want to be when you were small?

Lloire: “An archmage. Someone like Louisoix or Shatotto.”

K’risa: “I wanted what every girl in our tribe wanted. To be a huntress.”

Beta: “You just… I swear, you don’t own a mirror do you? Ugh. I wanted to be the world’s best engineer. Well, okay, want to be…”

Chadrick: “Ah was goin’ t’ say lad… ye are still a wee one. As fer me, Ah’ve always dreamed o’ bein’ a ‘ero. E’er since Ah too was a wee lad.”

Aasifa: “Free, yes?”

Benedict: “When I was young, I simply wished to please the family that took me in.”

Chance: “A merc. It was all I’d known.”

Felix: “Alchemy has been an interest of mine since I first heard of it.”

 What's the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of love?

Lloire: “Pretty sure I have to say ‘Stab myself in the chest’ or Beta will call me out on it.”

K’risa: “Yea, he will. How did you—I’d rather not know. I uh, left my tribe and everyone I knew.”

Beta: “Yea, next time you go falling for a girl, maybe just roses and chocolates, ‘kay? For me, it was raid a castrum and take over all their reapers.”

Chadrick: “Ah di’nay know tha’ Ah’d call it fer love… but tha craziest thing Ah did fer romance was date wha’ amounted t’ a princess. Di’nay hiss K’risa… she ne’er did a thing t’ ye.””

Aasifa: “Aasifa is not understanding question. Everything done for love is crazy, yes? Otherwise… is not love?”

Benedict: “I fear I am going to have to abstain from answering. I have not been in love and as such have not done anything foolish.”

Chance: “Tried to play at hero.”

Felix: “Hmm… pretty much everything I did from the age nineteen to twenty-three.”

 Do you collect anything? If so, what?

Lloire: “Books.”

K’risa: “I don’t think it counts that I collect fabrics, considering that’s my job.”

Beta: “Mostly Garlean scrap. Wha? It’s not ‘technically’ my job. Also, Lloire, I’m pretty sure you collect scars.”

Chadrick: “Ah’ve a giant collection o’ tha things Ah kept from each o’ me missions. Aislyn an’ Ah make it a point t’ keep one thing from each job.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is not one for ‘things’, yes? You cannot take with you. No matter what some people might think.”

Benedict: “Yes, I have a collection of different totems, rosaries, wards, from various beliefs. I enjoy learning about other people’s beliefs.”

Chance: “…no. The fuck am I gonna do with all that extra weight?”

Felix: “Like Scars, I have a collection of tomes as well as a collection of rare metals and gems.”

 Who was your first crush?

Lloire: “A woman named Stanzie. ”

K’risa: “A pretty boy hero who doesn’t know how to sit still.”

Beta: “Um, I guess Ikara? I mean, I didn’t really get the whole dating thing before I met her.”

Chadrick: “There was this lass named Cathleen when Ah was growin’ up. Me da dealt with ‘ers kind o’ regularly. Otherwise, Ah’d ‘ave t’ say Sinomen.”

Aasifa: “Bliss. Let us speak on something new, yes?”

Benedict: “Again, I will need to bow… what is that mister Tamisier? Oh, well.. I suppose… very well. There was a young Elezen girl when I was much much younger… but that was highly inappropriate. Her name? Oh… It’s been so many years. Killie… Kyliean… I fear I do not recall anymore.”

Chance: “Right… sure you don’t Benny. There was a fellow merc when I was starting out. Becca. That’s all ya need to know.”

Felix: “I suppose my betrothed when I was young would have been my first crush. Her name was Alison.”

 Do you or your family have a “motto” – spoken or unspoken?

Lloire: “No. Not really. Maybe if I start one someday I’ll come up with one.”

K’risa: “Oh, like I’d forget what I hear time and time again. ‘One struggle, one people, one destiny.’”

Beta: “Noooope.”

Chadrick: “Ah’ll go with me ma’s. ‘Fortune favours tha bold.’”

Aasifa: “If Aasifa is having one… he is not knowing it, yes?”

Benedict: “As with miss Mau, I could not forget it if I tried. ‘Honour is the reward of virtue.’”

Chance: “No.”

Felix: “Hahaha. Yea, no.”

 What do you do to keep fit?

Lloire: “Every morning is a fairly standard routine. Pushups, crunches, squats, a run… plus all the training and fighting.”

K’risa: “Keep fit? Do you all have to try to stay fit?”

Beta: “I guess all my time at the forge keeps me pretty fit. I mean, hammering stuff all day and working on magitek… it can be hard work.”

Chadrick: “Blitzball’s a pretty full body workout ye know. Outside o’ tha’… Ah find Ah di’nay need much else, aye?”

Aasifa: “Aasifa and Lloire are similar here. Aasifa wakes and does morning exercises. It is ingrained in him since time first remembered.”

Benedict: “I am not so sure I am as fit as say Master Peace or Master Taqalid.”

Chance: “Work. Don’t need anything else.”

Felix: “Aya started me on a training regimen some many many years ago. I’ve stuck with it since.”

 If you could live somewhere else from where you live now, where would it be?

Lloire: “Yanxia. It’s beautiful there.”

K’risa: “I’ve heard there is a land to the south that sounds amazing.”

Beta: “Idyllshire for sure. I wish I could now!”

Chadrick: “E’erywhere. Ah cannay imagine settlin’ down t’ any one spot.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is with friend Chadrick. The winds blow everywhere. So does Aasifa”

Benedict: “I… have not given that thought. There is still much of the world for me to see to rightly say. Lady Sayo has spoken much of the east and I’ve heard the Steepe is beautiful.”

Chance: “Where I live doesn’t matter. Where doesn’t make it home.”

Felix: “Hah. And packs like to keep on the move, right wolfboy? Dravania if I had to pick.”

 If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Lloire: “Danger of death, high voltage.”

K’risa: “Shocking.” *snickers* “Um Cat crossing? I don’t know. I’m not all that dangerous.”

Beta: “I unno, something like Warning, explosion hazards I guess?”

Chadrick: “Caution, ‘ot. Tha rest o’ ye are too damned serious.”

Aasifa: “Umm… This is strange question… Aasifa’s would say, warning… anger Aasifa and he will cut of your head. Is good warning, yes?”

Benedict: “I… I think that may be a bit on the nose Master Taqalid. I suppose mine would say Contents under pressure.”

Chance: “Wolf advisory in effect.”

Felix: “Seek shelter.”

 How do you sleep? With clothes, fitfully or peacefully, lots of pillows?

Lloire: “Odd question… I have night clothes… a single pillow, and I imagine a bit more fitfully than many others.”

K’risa: “You poor thing. I um, have a nightgown. That’s all I’m telling!”

Beta: “Rarely and usually where I fall.”

Chadrick: “Godsdamn lad… Yer too young fer all o’ tha’. Get yer rest. Lots o’ pillows and quite peacefully.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa has bed made of cushions. He sleeps well. You should try it. Very comfortable.”

Benedict: “I spend most nights in inn rooms. They are comfortable enough.”

Chance: “Bedrolls more often than not. I sleep fine.”

Felix: “You don’t want to know… trust me. Suffice it to say… in velvet.”

 Real quick, before you all leave. It was recently Valentione’s Day here is Eorzea. How did you feel about that holiday?

Lloire: “Tch… None of your business. My Shield Sister loves it though.”

K’risa: “I love it! I sold all kinds of cute lingerie!”

Beta: “Ikara and I always go out and enjoy the festivities. So I like it.”

Chadrick: “It’s a celebration o’ love, aye? Wha’s nay t’ like unless you’re tha’ gloomy type. Nay dating fer ye eh Lloire? Cut inta tha broodin’ time?”

Aasifa: “This festival was fun time! Aasifa and companion Rahya scared many moogles and then got chairs for our efforts, yes?”

Benedict: “I’m afraid I did not participate, though the decorations and festivities made Sunny quite happy.”

Chance: “…Yea, Lloire… I still owe you an asswhooping for that. She’s still laughing at me… ass.”

Felix: “The pink hurts my eyes… Heh, pinkeye. Hmm… maybe next year I’ll… huh? Oh, we’re done. Great.”

 As always, thank you all for answering our readers’ questions. I think next round we’ll have another theme. Until then!

Tagged by: Uh, I made this one. So @me?

Tagging: @wicked-virtue @yutikyis@waitingrose @susukosuko@hedgearcher @hana-xiv @devil-you-know @nebula1984 and anyone I might have left off or forgotten.