#unite them with hot chocolate and engineering

[purple-egg-yolk]

[1863-project]

NJ Transit 40th Anniversary Weekend Extravaganza!

Pay your engineers and give them a contract.

Okay, now that that's out of the way...

This weekend I got to spend some time with my dad aboard NJT's 40th Anniversary Express, a special train they put together in conjunction with the United Railroad Historical Society of New Jersey to commemorate 40 years of NJT's rail service. Normally I'd have just been content to watch, but they hooked me with a GG1 reference so naturally I had to go because I will do anything for a GG1.

The URHS of NJ loaned the Hickory Creek out for the event, along with a few other passenger cars they own. It was weird to see it at Penn Station instead of in Grand Central Terminal, but they still rolled out the red carpet for it as if it was attached to the 20th Century Limited. (This is where we get the phrase "red carpet treatment" from, by the way. It has nothing to do with Hollywood and everything to do with one crack passenger express train.)

I did not ride in the Hickory Creek itself because I do not have that sort of money, but Dad and I were in the Tavern Lounge No. 43, another New York Central car. It was a lovely ride.

The highlight of the trip was in South Amboy. Historically, electrification of the North Jersey Coast Line ended here. Today, it ends in Long Branch. Here's where the GG1s come in. There would be an engine change at South Amboy. The GG1s, electric locomotives, would be switched out for other locomotives to go further south. It was steam at first, and sadly became diesel later. Yesterday, they recreated this engine switch for us, complete with an NJT heritage unit painted to look like a GG1. This is the closest I'll likely get to seeing one running within my lifetime, so I'll cherish it.

The engine change. NJT 4636 stood in for my beloved GG1s, and two of the first locomotives built for NJ Transit, a pair of F40-PH2s (4119 and 4120), took over. You rarely see the latter in passenger service these days because they usually pull work trains, but they're the last two members of their class in NJT service.

Much to everyone's delight, we got to watch some brakeman work in action, because they manually flipped the switches. Note the heavy-duty gloves the conductor is wearing for this purpose.

It takes quite a bit of setup...

All clear!

Once the locomotives were swapped, we all boarded again and went on down to Bay Head. Since it was cold and rainy out, a few of us had some hot chocolate, which hit the spot and was incredibly wonderful.

Eventually, we made it to Bay Head. This is how I found out the president of NJ Transit was on the train with us, because the NJT engineers are ready to strike because there's no contract right now, and a group of them were protesting down at Bay Head because they knew he'd have to see them. Excellent move.

At Bay Head, we got to go around the loop in Bay Head Yard, something passengers don't normally get to do.

So we had views that most people don't get to have, and that was really cool.

At Bay Head, they fed us and gave us NJT swag. There were also some vintage buses from Public Service there, which was great because nobody stopped me from getting into the driver's seat of them.

My right hand is on the gearshift in this photo - it was huge and came out of the floor. Neither bus had power steering - that's a relatively new feature in motor vehicles.

I can and will attempt to drive anything.

Back to trains - after lunch, everyone got back aboard and the 40th Anniversary Express made its way back up north to Newark Penn Station. Whilst we were at Newark, we were allowed to get out and take some photos, so I investigated the staff car and was delighted to see that it had a conference table with a PRR K4 pictured above it.

You know me, I love my 4-6-2 Pacifics.

Eventually, the train came into Hoboken Terminal, and that was the end of day one.

Today, the entire heritage fleet was on display at Hoboken Terminal, so I made my way back for more photos.

I love GG1s and wanted to thank my new friend for giving me the opportunity to come so close to that experience yesterday.

4101 and 4109 are the surviving sisters of NJT 4100, a locomotive I'm rather attached to. It was nice to get good photos of them instead of the ones I usually have to snap through the window when I'm actually out on the rails!

Erie-Lackawanna 3372 is a labor of love for the URHS of NJ. They've done a beautiful job restoring her so far, but there's still a lot of work left to do.

The thing that really did me in was this old Pennsy diesel here, an E8A numbered 5711. She's in incredible condition for something built in 1952, and they had a cast of an old Penn Station eagle next to her, too, just to break my heart into a million pieces because I'll never be over what happened to Penn Station.

In all, I had an amazing weekend, and NJT and the URHS of NJ knocked it out of the park with this. It was just wonderful to be surrounded by other railfans for a couple of days.

Some other highlights:

Talked about trains the entire ride with the folks in our car. At one point we all got to sharing cat photos. An older couple had a cat named Lake, short for Lake Shore Limited. I cannot tell you how much that delighted me.

I love being around other railfans. It's one of the rare places I can be myself, since there's inevitably going to be a lot of other autistic people there besides me so I don't have to mask. I cannot even begin to articulate what it means to me to be in a place where I don't have to mask.

The hobby has actually changed a lot since I was a little kid - and in a good way. I wasn't the only woman there, for one. I was still greatly outnumbered gender-wise, but there are a lot more women in the hobby now, and it's also a lot more racially diverse than it was back then. Additionally, I saw a LOT of young people - it's going strong! It doesn't feel like it's being gatekept by the old white men anymore. It's really wonderful. Trains are for everyone. They always were, but now you can visibly see it.

When we were on the platform at South Amboy getting set up to take photos, someone yelled "Everybody smile!" behind me and I nearly died. Because, you know:

Whoever you are, give me your phone number.

As a final addendum, of course I brought them with me, as per usual when I go out to do railroading stuff. Here they are seated in Tavern Lounge 43!

This was just an absolute banger of a weekend and I hope more events like this happen because it's so fun to engage with history hands-on and see other people who care about it as much as you do. It's the best! Perfect!

[erenozturk]

EREN ÖZTÜRK INTRODUCTION.

meet eren; private investigator banshee

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Eren Öztürk NICKNAME(S): N/A AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 54 (appears 29), 01/04/1969 GENDER: Cisman PRONOUNS: He/Him OCCUPATION: Private Investigator, and owner of Tower Treasure Detective Agency SPECIES: Fae, Banshee

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGERS: death, haphephobia, racism, xenophobia, gore

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a boy who fell into a hole. 

It’s not a normal way to start a fairy tale, but in the case of Eren Öztürk this was the way his literal fairy life began. Falling face-first into a dark, seemingly endless hole. It was that night that his banshee powers had manifested themselves for the first time within this specific timeline, as well as the defining moment which led him down the path to his current life. Seated in a small office above a laundromat on a corner in Downtown Lunar Cove, surrounded by case files, grainy photographs, and dozens upon dozens of takeout cartons, the banshee often reflects on that pivotal moment way back on that early 80’s autumn day in middle-of-nowhere Pennsylvania and how everything changed forever after. 

Eren Öztürk was born to a mechanical engineer and a children’s book writer in Istanbul in 1969. He doesn’t remember his homeland, at least not back in that time, because shortly after in the early 70’s his parents made the decision to migrate to the United States. Settling in a small and charming town in the foothills of Pennsylvania, Eren was set to have a pretty idyllic childhood. Being the only child the Öztürks would ever have – as far as he knew – he had a warm upbringing full of love and everything a young kid like him could ever ask for. Everything seemed absolutely perfect… That was, until it wasn’t. Being an immigrant to the United States in the 20th Century wasn’t exactly the easiest thing, and being one of the only Turkish families in their small town made things worse. When Eren started attending school, he quickly found himself growing into an outsider and began hiding his sweet and warm demeanor behind a stoic and socially anxious exterior. The kids at school made fun of his homemade dishes, a stark contrast to their pizza and chocolate milk carton lunches bought at the cafeteria. They mocked him and his family as they spoke in their native tongues at the supermarket, and they found every way to let him know he was “just too different” from them.

As a result, Eren had only a couple of friends – Frank, his brother Joe, and their oftentimes collaborator, one Nancy Drew. While the other kids ran about the playground playing freeze tag and hide and seek together, Eren spent his recesses in the library, checking out Hardy Boys book after Hardy Boys book. He delighted himself primarily with the mysteries at the core of each adventure, but also the brotherly bond and camaraderie between its main characters – something he always wished he had in his own life. These novels were the first signs of an inquisitive and curious mind, having bred a love for anything mystery and crime detective related, and when Eren was going through puberty and feeling woefully alone, he began to act out. Combined with a bad attitude, which was undeservingly flung at his parents, Eren began sneaking out of the house and running off to a local art theater late at night when they began showing Noirs from the 40’s and 50’s. Films which he quickly became addicted to. Out of the Past, Murder, My Sweet, Kiss Me Deadly — these movies and so many more all became quick favorites for the young boy, who soon after began daydreaming he was a detective in a trench coat and fedora, on a hot case with a femme fatale in a dark and smoky city. 

After one such late night excursion, and imagining himself as the quick witted detective at the center of the narrative, Eren left the theater on his bike and cut through the woods which lead to his backyard. It was supposed to be a shortcut, a quick way to get home so he could be tucked back in his bed before his dad checked in on him to ensure he didn’t sneak out again. But one sharp turn turned a simple bike ride through the woods into him stumbling face-first into a barely concealed hole. One that felt like it went on forever, endless and dark. He woke after an indecipherable amount of time in the pitch black, sore and covered in scrapes and bruises. As Eren tried to feel around for something to help him up, his hands felt something softer than the hard, cold ground. Adjusting to the dark, he was able to make out a silhouette of what looked to be an oddly shaped object, which his hand reached towards. Moonlight piercing the clouds revealed it to be a corpse, and as his hand sank into the decomposing flesh, Eren let out the loudest, piercing scream he had ever made or even heard in his entire life. His vision clouded as a chilling vision unfolded, depicting the deceased's final moments — a visceral connection to death that marked the onset of his supernatural gifts.

This was the first time his abilities as a banshee manifested themselves.

The trauma of that encounter lingered, overshadowing the remainder of his youth and impacting his relationship with his parents. The banality of life faded into the background, replaced by the manifestation of even more peculiar abilities – a debilitating scream, the ability to transfer an injury inflicted by his bullies to them, and retractable wings which made for many an awkward moment. But all of those were eclipsed by the even more horrifying ability to witness moments of death from just touching a person. It all made adolescence a confusing and isolating period. He was desperate to escape whatever was going on with him, but especially his parents who were stuck between wanting to help their son with whatever was happening to him and horrified as stranger and newer symptoms of his unknown curse made themselves known. He couldn’t stand the terrified look on his mother’s face, or his father’s confusion which quickly turned to frustration when Eren lashed out when they tried to make sense of everything going on with their teenage son. Or the hurt that crossed their faces when he refused their touches, caresses of love and concern from a parent watching their son become undone. The last thing any kid wanted was to see how their parents would die, long before the event itself happened.

The second that Eren came of age in the late '80s, he had made a rather difficult choice. He couldn’t stay there, with parents who would likely never understand what he was going through and in a town where he wasn’t accepted when he was at his most “normal”. So he left home – without farewells, leaving behind the tearful visage of his mother as his last memory of her. His search for answers regarding his strange abilities propelled him into a nomadic existence, hopping from place to place, country to country, continent to continent, searching for something he wasn’t quite sure of, avoiding attachments all along the way. It seemed all across the world there were many places with their own myths to explain what was happening to him, but nothing concrete beyond old wive’s tales. No documented cases of another going through what he was, from what he could find. His existence quickly became the one mystery that Eren had no way of solving. 

With little to nothing to work with, he gave up on his soul searching for a moment and made his way to Turkey, his homeland which he only heard about in stories and in faded memories from when he was really quite young. All his life he had felt like an outsider looking in, only feeling a sense of belonging within the pages of old children’s mystery novels. When he arrived in Turkey, things were instantly somewhat different. For once, he didn’t feel like he didn’t belong, he felt like just another face in the crowd, blending in fully to the environment around him. It felt like maybe things would be alright, maybe he found some happiness despite all the strange occurrences surrounding his existence. He still had the premonitions which haunted him any time he came in contact with people and sometimes objects which formerly belonged to others. This gave way for a severe case of haphephobia, which made him awkward and anxious when out in public. This being the only thing that marred his time home in Istanbul, he didn’t think of it as a major tell as to the supernatural things which had been going on in his life. But he was wrong, there was someone who was able to notice something was off about him and was able to quickly deduce what was going on.

When Zehra first approached him, he didn’t know how to take her boldness, especially when she began asking him about his wings and if this was his “first life”. Of course it was his first life – as far as he knew, this was his only life – but her vagueness gave way to more transparent explanations and soon Eren was getting the explanation he had longed for for a handful of years now. According to Zehra, he, much like her, was a faerie, only he was one called a banshee whereas she was a siren. Suddenly everything about himself made sense, and all because of this stranger who was able to recognize the shared struggles of their kind. Slowly, they forged a profound friendship, and Zehra became Eren's guide, helping him understand his banshee abilities, introducing him to a supernatural world within their own. With her he found his first family outside of his parents, and they worked on his trauma and helped him make sense of his past. Eren knew he was finally with someone who understood him when Zehra gifted him with his first pair of leather gloves. “You know,” she had said warmly, “To help you with your fears.”

He was content to stay there in Turkey with Zehra, but as quickly as he learned about the broad supernatural world they were part of, he learned there were those who wanted to destroy it. Hunter activity was growing across Europe and Asia during that time, and so the fae duo knew they would need to keep moving if they wanted to survive. At Zehra’s insistence they began moving westward. She had heard talk of a supernatural haven back in the States which many of her compatriots had either come from or escaped to. While the thought of going back homeward gave him anxiety, a sense of self preservation prevailed and the pair began slowly making their way towards Lunar Cove, Rhode Island. Between 1988 and 1991, they found themselves settling in towns here and there, meeting others like them and of different species, and trying to find some sense of normalcy wherever they could. Wherever they stayed Eren would pay keen attention to the local goingons, and Zehra was surprised to see the young banshee quietly following and even solving some of the local crimes which were being documented by the public, talked about in small coffee shops and diners.

During a particularly long stay in a town in the Southern US, Eren went as far as crossing paths with detectives on a cold case and made light comments after touching something he was supposedly not allowed to touch. He may have been the anonymous tip to help things progress to justice. While talking over coffee in the middle of the night at a Waffle House in Alabama, Zehra made a throwaway comment about them opening a Private Investigation agency together when they settled in Lunar Cove. At first he shrugged it off, but as they continued their northward travel the thought became more and more appealing. When they finally crossed the barrier into Lunar Cove in the spring of 1993, Eren decided he would make that vision a possibility. Working days bussing tables at an Italian restaurant while he spent nights getting his criminal justice degree at the local college, it seemed like this was the cherry on top of Eren’s life turning out just as it was meant to be. So much so that he stopped aging in 1998, finally feeling his true self. When he got his PI license, Eren began renting out a small office space above a laundromat in Downtown Lunar Cove, and thus the Tower Treasure Detective Agency was born – aptly named after the first Hardy Boys adventure which started his long journey towards amateur sleuthing and now real detective work. Things were going great, perfect even, and after skirting around their feelings for so long, Eren and Zehra finally progressed their friendship into a romantic connection. 

The turn of the century brought with it many changes. Tower Treasure was doing well, mostly dealing in smaller crime cases that the local authorities didn’t pay as much attention to, as well as targeting cold cases in the greater local area in order to earn some extra big cash. With his banshee abilities, Eren began taking on more and more cases regarding inexplicable deaths, using his premonitions to help families get a glimpse of exactly what may have happened when their loved ones perished and providing much needed closure and even a bit of grief counseling as a result. It was simple and sweet, it made those visions which oftentimes plagued him and scared him as a youth into something good for the community, at least he tried to think of it that way. It didn’t always pan out that way and in his seemingly perfect life, there were some cracks which exposed a less happy underbelly. No matter what positive spin he tried to put on things, Eren still suffered with his phobias and fears, as well as an unending guilt for having never reconnected with his parents who likely would always wonder what exactly happened to their boy. Zehra had been supportive of everything he went through, but every person had their individual needs and soon enough she wasn’t feeling as fulfilled as she hoped. And despite himself, Eren pulled away from most everyone and everything. The visions of death began having a toll on him once again, and he found himself pulling more into himself after years and years of detective work. Solidarity has always been his best coping mechanism.

Eventually Zehra left, citing a desire to go back to Europe and find some of the others they used to commune with. Eren knew she didn’t want him to feel bad for not being adequate for her and he comforted himself with the thought that she was back in Europe or Asia, living out her vivid and interesting life and hopefully in the arms of someone who could love her properly. It felt better to think that way than to imagine hunters found her and she had regenerated, or worse. Since she left, Eren never took on another partner in his detective work, or personal life. Left alone, aside from his only lasting employee which was an eternally middle aged vampire secretary with a nasally voice and penchant for knit cardigans decorated with woodland creatures, his agency continued on — still bringing closure to Lunar Cove’s residents in death whenever it’s needed, but with his somewhat dreary case load he’s lost a bit of love for the work over the past couple decades. Now it seemed he was just robotically going through the motions of work and life, as he has been over the past couple decades now. His social life remained minimal, not interacting much beyond his clients and the other members of the fae court, and he shied away from forming new attachments, being haunted by the fear of another heartbreak. Life reached a standstill, a boring downhill slide…

That was, until the Catalyst arrived.

With the chaos and turmoil enveloping Lunar Cove due to the mysterious Catalyst, Eren has found himself contemplating the unfolding mystery between his usual lighter case load. Alone in his dimly lit office, surrounded by the remnants of takeout and mountains of case files he ought to be working on instead, he often reflects on the facts laid out before him on a board hung up on his wall. Photographs, newspaper clippings, and anything he could find about the town’s biggest adversary, pinned up on a corkboard with red lines crossing over all of it, connecting invisible dots he’s yet to figure out, but delights in seeing. The prospect of a tumultuous mystery has been slowly rekindling Eren’s passion for detective work, as the promise of more danger and chaos looms on Lunar Cove’s horizon and ensures that something bigger than they’ve witnessed yet is surely on its way. And Eren Öztürk welcomes the developments, taking in each and every thing that comes up, and prepares to face the shadows that he hopes will soon darken his agency's doorstep. In the meantime, he continues paying close attention to the goings on, doing what little work comes his way, and keeping a careful eye on every new face that shows up in Lunar Cove. In this new chapter of his dark fairy tale life, everyone is suspect. That is, until he can prove their innocence beyond a reasonable doubt.

HEADCANONS

Typically wears all black, a mix between casual and dressy, in particular is usually in a suit and tie but sometimes rocks a tee and leather jacket. The one thing Eren is never without are his gloves. Black or Brown leather racing gloves which he wears to help him interact with the world without a fear of seeing things he doesn’t want to (outside of work) or direct touching with others

Doesn’t invite and has never invited a single person into his home. If you want to see him privately, go to his office, but don’t ever expect to make a house visit.

Has a very dry sense of humor and delivers teasing banter in a very monotonous voice. If you didn’t know him, you may construe this as mean but he is actually a very sweet person. He just rarely shows that side of him to others.

He appears young, but he’s an old man at heart. He loves sitting at the park and playing chess with others, his favorite show is the nightly news, and he will complain about nonexistent back pains. His sensibilities skew towards older interests, namely with music and media. He loves noir films from the 40’s and 50’s but also loves his 80’s coming of age films, and carries a Walkman and mixtapes of 80’s hits on any case. If he’s doing a stakeout there’s a 100% chance he’s listening to Tears For Fears or Spandau Ballet.

No hookups, no romantic relationships, nothing beyond professional (even for his few platonic relationships) — he’s afraid of touch and there isn’t a single exception to the touch rule. Aside from his dog. He needs cuddles somewhere, the poor man.

idk more will come to me I’m sure lol

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic FAMILY: a dog named Hardy HOMETOWN: TBD, Pennsylvania FACE CLAIM: Emin Günenç HEIGHT: 6’2” EYE COLOR: Brown HAIR: Dark Brown DISTINGUISHABLE FEATURES:  STYLE:  ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: capricorn PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Past clients

Acquaintances

Few close friends

Maybe you were one of his cases / he had to trail you at the request of a former flame/loved one

Unwanted Partner In Crime

‘It’s Always You, Seemingly Caught Red Handed At The Scene Of The Crime’

[marblecarved]

your character's aesthetics as the five senses.

bold what applies to your character, italicize what sometimes applies to them.

sight: small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colors.

sound: crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and ac units. a phone call to mom or dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. deafening gunfire. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks are getting slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

touch: being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favorite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

taste: coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that has lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. the processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

scent: morning glories and honeysuckles. freshly cut grass. hot chocolate in the middle of winter. nail polish. hospital rooms. smoke. hair spray. your favorite shampoo and conditioner. the scent of home. perfume. cologne. mint. something burning. wet dogs. copper. metal. leather. un-emptied ashtrays. something familiar yet different. campfires.

tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and you would like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this from me ! 

[jedimastre-archive]

your character’s aesthetics as the five senses.

bold what applies to your character, italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don't reblog ! 

sight: small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colors.

sound: crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and ac units. a phone call to mom or dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. deafening gunfire. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks are getting slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

touch: being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favorite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

taste: coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that has lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. the processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

scent: morning glories and honeysuckles. freshly cut grass. hot chocolate in the middle of winter. nail polish. hospital rooms. smoke. hair spray. your favorite shampoo and conditioner. the scent of home. perfume. cologne. mint. something burning. wet dogs. copper. metal. leather. un-emptied ashtrays. something familiar yet different. campfires.

tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and you would like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this from me ! 

[not-alien-girl-v]

can you write something were tate gets jealous when y/n is hanging out with another boy

Summary: Tate being jelly after you go and have fun with your friend who just happens to be a boy. Fluff and angst

Warning: None. Tate says the word slut.

Note: Been away for a while, so sorry. Had writers block and have been aggressively playing The Sims 4. Didn’t proofread this btw and typed it on my phone

It was a warm summer night, and you had spent the entire day at the beach with your friends, a little get together since you had all graduated high school before summer had started. The day was long and sweltering hot, but the evening breeze had cooled you down.

Most of your friends had gone home, all going to work, things normal adults did, which you now were. It was so weird. You never think your close knit group of friends would so easy live adult lives the way you did, yet here you were, surviving.

You did in fact have a job, but it was a Friday night, and you had Saturday off, so you didn’t need to go home early. This just left you and your childhood best friend David walking around the mall with your milkshakes from Shakeshack.

You had met David in 6th grade, as he was your sister’s best friend’s little brother, you were instant friends, with your common interest of the occult and all things dark and strange.

You two walked shoulder to shoulder, clumsy with happiness. “Okay, okay, Joe Biden, smash or pass!?” You asked.

He burst out into laughter. “The president of the United States? Are you kidding me?” He paused. “Young Biden or old Biden?”

“Young Biden, obviously,” you bumped him with your hip causing him to go flying to the side.

“Hmm, smash. He was kinda hot back in the day,” you two suddenly realized you were at his car in the parking garage. “You need a ride home?” He asked you as he climbed into the drivers seat.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” you got into the passengers seat and he started the engine.

“Of course not,” he smiled warmly and drove out of the parking garage.

Maybe 20 minutes later you arrived at the house you lived in with your boyfriend, Tate. Sure the house was haunted by his mother and all his dead siblings among various other spirits, but it was cheaper than finding another place, so you decided to look past it when he asked you to move in with him.

��Well, this is me,” you hopped out of the car and stood outside for a moment as David came to say goodbye, climbing out of the car.

“Bye, love you,” he reached in to you him as he spoke these words gently, but you know he meant them in the most platonic way. That was just the kind of relationship you had with David. As with all your other friends, boy or girl, you were all very open with each other

“Love you too, see you next week!” You greeted him goodbye and walked up the driveway to the front door. David drove off before you were inside.

As your hand reached for the door, you barely graced it before it came flying open. There, you came face to face with your boyfriend, Tate, who did not have a very happy expression on his face.

“Oh, good to see you still live here,” he glared and turned on his heel to walk away and disappear up the stairs.

“Tate? Where are you going baby?” You shouted to him. You heard him slam your bedroom door in response.

You sighed, knowing you’d have to talk to him about this. But first, you took off your shoes, took a brief shower to wash the sand off your skin and out of your hair, and grabbed the milkshake you had gotten him from the restaurant.

You knocked softly on the door. No response. You opened it anyway, knowing he would never lock the door on you, despite how upset he gets.

You came in to find that he lay on your bed alone, listening to music. You came closer and sat down next to his legs. Placing a hand on his thigh, you got his attention.

“What,” he spat, temporarily taking out his earbud to address you.

“I’m sorry I was out all day,” you reached to the bed stand, “here’s a shake I got for you. It’s chocolate, your favorite.”

He still seemed angry but he did a quick motion of his head, meaning for you to come lay next to him, yet it was so brief you almost missed it had you not been staring intently at him.

You climbed over him to lay down in the empty spot. He took a long sip of his shake as you stared at him more, knowing he was trying to make you uncomfortable in the waiting silence. “Tate, is this about David?”

“David? No, I have no problem at all with you going around and slutting it up,” he sarcastically mumbled before taking another sip.

“Look, you know he’s just my friend. My best friend. He has been for like, ever. Plus, he has a boyfriend. Trust me, he doesn’t like me like that,” you speak truthfully to him from the bottom of your heart, hoping the words mean as much to him as they do from you. “Also, you’re ridiculous. I am not ‘slutting it up.’”

His stern expression softened. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. He twisted his body to his right, where you sat. Reaching his left arm out to make contact with your right thigh, he hoisted it over his lap with surprising strength, and settles you on top of him in a straddling position.

His hands both rested softly on the small of your waist. You reached both arms up to connect behind his neck but he beats you to it, as he pulls you in by the waist and wraps both arms firmly around your body, hugging you.

“I’m sorry. I love you.” He spoke muffled into your hair which he had now pulled out of your ponytail. With gentle fingers, he combed through the mess of it, soothing the knots and curls the salt water of the ocean left through it.

“You don’t have to be sorry. If you were always hanging out with some girl all the time, I’d be jealous too. But I trust you, and I know you’d never betray me.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, inadvertently smelling you, and taking in the sweet scent of your signature perfume, salt water, and a tiny bit of burger grease that you had accidentally worked into your hair over dinner. You’re so clumsy, he thought. One thing he truly loved about you.

“I love you,” you ended your conversation with that and allowed yourself to relax in his arms for however long he’d allow you to.

[halloweenhoneylover]

the closing shift

summary: coffeeshop au babey!! spencer and reader are nerds in love who also work at the campus cafe together (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this one’s for u, anon!!! sorry if this is lame, i normally don’t like coffeeshop au’s but here we are. also a warning: there is a lot of doctor who junk in here and also it’s incredibly self-indulgent but i don’t care :)

“So what you’re saying is you don’t like the power of love and human goodness?”

Spluttering frustratedly, Spencer frowned at you, “Of course, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think that the special effects were cheesy and the plot was sometimes a little silly!”

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before relenting with a sigh, focusing back on the counter you were wiping down. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit that the Slitheen really did not look good, and that maybe ‘Love and Monsters’ was one of the stupidest episodes of television I’ve ever watched, but you have to admit that Ten’s monologue in ‘The Satan Pit’ was one of the best pieces of writing in the whole show. ‘If I believe in one thing, I believe in her?’ How were you not screaming at your TV when you watched that!”

Spencer lips curled into a small smile as you continued rambling and absent-mindedly cleaning the counter. You were not doing a very good job, but he wasn’t about to stop your spiel. It wasn’t often he was on the receiving end of a ramble, and as someone who was frequently told to shut up, he would never interrupt, especially when it was about his favorite show. Especially when it was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. No, he’d sit quietly and listen, thank you very much.

“Okay,” she brought her full attention back to Spencer. “I’ll forgive you for your horrible offence. If you take back what you said.”

She looked so intently in his eyes, so sincerely his knees wobbled a little. The full force of her attention was like the sun. He felt warm inside and out, but he might be burned from the intensity of its direct glare. 

“Fine, season two of Doctor Who is not a complete abomination.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied smirk. “Well, thank you, Dr. Reid. I appreciate the kind words.”

He nodded, turning to the back room. He’d almost made it through the doorway before he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “But season eight is better.”

A melodramatic gasp, and he felt a rag hit the back of his head, and he chuckled.

“You take that back, Spencer Reid!” 

Making his way further in, his fingers found the knot behind his back, quickly untying and shrugging off the apron. “(Y/N), I only speak the truth. I’m a man of science, and science says that season eight is simply superior.”

You laughed along with him, murmuring grievances against this idiot genius. You reached behind yourself, fingers fumbling with the knot. After a couple unsuccessful attempts, you huffed and asked, “Hey, Spencer, do you think you could help me with my apron? I tied the stupid thing too tightly.”

He gulped, mumbling a sure thing in a way he hoped was nonchalant, but knowing himself, was anything but. Walking up behind you, he felt himself involuntarily shudder at your proximity, and he said a silent prayer to a god he didn’t believe in to try to keep his cool. You felt his fingers brush against your lower back, and you tried, gosh, you tried so hard to not audibly gasp (you’re not sure you succeeded). The brief contact unfortunately flooded your mind with thoughts about his long fingers that you had often admired (discreetly), and you thought about what it’d be like for him to touch you and for him to mean it, and you nearly passed out. The silence was deafening, which was funny because it seemed like you two could never shut up around each other, and the one time you needed to fill the tense air with something, there was nothing.

Finally finished with the knot, Spencer softly tapped your back twice with his index. “All done.” It came out as a whisper. He couldn’t have managed more.

“Thanks!” You spoke at normal volume and tried to put you back into regular conversation, but breaking the eerie quiet, it sounded like you were shouting.

He shot you a tight-lipped smile. “Are you all good to close up?”

“Yeah, I can hold down the fort,” you said rather breathlessly, returning his smile.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he pushed open the back door and waved. “See you Thursday!”

“See ya.”

As soon as the door shut, you heaved a sigh of relief and let the tension out of your shoulders, staring at the ground. You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes. Why did you freeze up like that? Why was it weird when he left? Why did you like him so much?

——— 

Thursday was Spencer’s favorite day of the week. The dining hall stocked chocolate donuts with rainbow sprinkles on Thursdays. He had his chemistry seminar with his favorite professor on Thursdays. Caltech’s chess club met on Thursdays. He worked his shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays. 

(You worked the same shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays.)

Did Spencer really need a job? No, his education was entirely paid for by the school because when you have a child prodigy on your hands, you should try to keep them. And he lived in on-campus housing and ate on campus, and he didn’t have a lot of other expenses. But his advisor told him that he might get something out of doing a job that didn’t require 100% of his brain power, might get to rest his mind for a couple hours every week. He might also make a friend.

What he had not anticipated when he started at one of the various campus cafes was meeting you. He showed up to his first shift and nearly choked when he saw arguably the most beautiful girl he had ever met in the backroom putting on an apron. Your eyes lit up when you saw him. “Hey, you must be Spencer! I saw our names together on the schedule a couple times, looks like we’re gonna be work buddies!”

By the time you turned back to speak to your guys’ new manager, he noticed his jaw was completely slack, and he hoped his mouth had not been hanging too long. He also blacked out too long to ask for your name, which he was internally hitting himself over. And he hazily drifted through the training, his mind barely focusing on the coffee. To say he was distracted by the girl next to him and the way she smelled like coconuts and cotton was a major understatement. Times like these were humbling for a twenty-year-old with two and a half PhDs.

He could barely recall anything that happened until they were cleaning out the espresso machine together silently, and he was struck with a sudden need. “Hey, I never caught your name…”

“Right! My name is (Y/N),” she answered, offering him a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Neither spoke after that, both working quietly next to each other. Spencer sighed internally, he wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hoped they wouldn’t spend the semester in silence. And like some higher power was listening to his wishes, you turned to him, “So, Spencer, what are you majoring in?”

Hesitant to scare you off, he tiptoed around the subject. “Right now, I’m studying chemistry.”

“Right now?”

He glanced over at you, and despite knowing you for the entirety of ten minutes, he couldn’t deny you or the inquisitive gleam in your eye even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. “I’m working on my PhD in chemistry. I already have two in mathematics and engineering. Oh, and I have two BA’s in psychology and sociology.” He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the dumbfounded look on your face, and he swallowed harshly. “Um, uh—what uh, what are you studying?”

You let out a brief laugh, and for a moment, he cringed, wondering if you were laughing at him. But just a look at you and the tenderness of your features, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Blowing a puff of air out, you grinned gently, “Well, your PhD’s are putting my bachelor’s to shame, so I’m not sure I want to say.”

“No, I’m sure whatever you’re studying is cool,” he reassured you.

Pleasantly surprised by the humility of your new genius coworker, you continued, “I appreciate it. I tend to err on the side of the humanities, not much of a STEM gal myself, and right now,” you both chuckled at your little joke, “I’m studying history and political science.” 

“So am I standing in the presence of a future lawyer, or maybe the next president of the United States?” 

“Good question, but I’m not sure. Would you vote for me?”

Squinting at you for a moment, he nodded slowly, “Yeah, I think I would. You’ve got a kind face.”

You raised your eyebrows at that, trying to suppress a blush. “A kind face?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, eyes flicking over your face. You felt shy under his gaze; it’s not everyday a hot genius boy stares you down and tells you you have a ‘kind face.’

Ducking your head, you fought a smile. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

And from then on, something clicked. You and Spencer talked for hours and hours during your shifts, joking and teasing (and grinning and blushing). He looked forward to working because that meant a chance to see you. (Except for Mondays, that was the one shift you didn’t have together, and it made Spencer want to scream. The dude he worked with, Andy, was nice enough, but the hours seemed to drag on when he didn’t have you to discuss weird sci-fi movies with.)

He was particularly looking forward to this Thursday because he knew you had a big presentation in your class about African revolution, and he wanted to hear all about it. In the brief moments of spare time at the cafe, he had helped you prepare and had listened to bits and pieces of it. This morning he’d sent you a quick good luck! text, to which you’d responded with thanks!!! and a stream of various heart emojis. He had learned early on that you were very fond of emojis, but it never stopped his heart from skipping a beat when you’d send him little hearts and smileys.

Entering the back room, he set his backpack on a hook and started to get ready for his shift. He gave a quick wave to the people from the last shift as they left, and he felt a little worry boiling in his gut because if they had left, that meant you were late, and you were never late. He wondered if something had happened in your presentation, and he was filled with dread. Solitarily manning the counter, he was ensnared in his thoughts; he couldn’t stand the idea of something going wrong and you being upset, so upset that you couldn’t come to work. He shifted uncomfortably, hand itching to grab his phone and send you a text to see if you were okay when he heard a door slam and a shriek from the backroom. “Spencer!”

Immediately, he ran to the back, expecting the worst, and he nearly fell over when you ran at him full-speed to launch into a hug. “Oof—” He recovered though, catching you, and he wrapped his arms around you so tightly and cradled the back of your head in his hand. His heart stuttered. He could get used to this.

You buried your face into his neck. “Oh, Spencer, you won’t believe it. My presentation went so well! My professor held me after class and told me I was one of his brightest students, and oh, I just don’t believe it!” He felt your face warm against him as you gushed.

“I believe it, I don’t doubt it for a second. You are so smart, (Y/N). I’m so proud of you. You deserve it.”

Breathing him in for just a moment longer, you finally released him, and both of you thought how everything feels a little emptier now that you weren’t holding each other. He couldn’t help but beam at you, though.

“Really, (Y/N), I’m so proud of you.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit! It’s all thanks to you being patient enough to hear me blabber on and practice, so thank you, Dr. Reid.”

He got incredibly flustered at the title and hesitated over his next words before settling on a soft anytime. And he meant it.

——— 

The rest of your shift that day was less eventful. You recounted some of the highlights of your presentation, to which Spencer listened with rapture. There was some discussion of who was at chess club today and if anyone there was a true match for Spencer (no one was). You played your favorite game called “Who Can Make the Most Disgusting Drink Out of Four Ingredients?” (You won with a mixture of coffee, coffee grounds, an excessive amount of salt, and raspberry syrup. (Ew, (Y/N) why is it grainy?)) And now nearing midnight, you sat at one end of the bar reading your textbook while Spencer cleaned up various mugs and napkins. He snagged the broom from the backroom and began sweeping. With a quick glance up at you focused entirely on your book, he smiled softly. Pieces of your hair had drifted out from behind your ears and framed your face, and the apples of your cheeks were flushed. To put it simply, you looked ethereal, and Spencer didn’t think it should be possible for someone to look so beautiful at the end of a long day, but here you were, always defying expectations. He thought you looked like someone from those Renaissance paintings you loved so dearly, but he knew that even if someone tried to commit your grace to canvas, it’d be to no avail. He was sure no one would be able to do you justice.

Looking down at the floor he was supposed to be sweeping, he let his thoughts wander farther. He thought about what it would be like to hold you everyday like he did today. He’d be the luckiest man on Earth, that’s what. For so long he thought about asking you out, but then he knew that someone like you would never be interested in someone like him. But then again, you were the impossible girl. You never did quite what he expected. And he never expected you to be into him. So maybe for once in his life, he’d go out on a limb and ask you if you wanted to go get dinner with him sometime. He’d take you to the Indian place on 12th that he knew you loved, and you’d sit in the oddly formal, always empty restaurant and laugh and giggle together because that’s what you always did together, and then maybe, he’d invite you back to his place, so you could watch Doctor Who, or maybe do other things (like hold hands), who knows? 

He found himself praying to that god he didn’t believe in once again to find the courage as he finished up sweeping, and after he put the broom away, he walked up to you with butterflies running rampant in his stomach, so he could barely muster a glance at you. But he was going to finally do it.

“(Y/N), I —”  

And that’s when he noticed that you had fallen asleep on your book. It had been a long day for you. He felt his heart grow tender and soft and if someone poked it, it very well might explode. His thoughts strayed to your conversation the other day and the quote you loved so much. I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, and out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her. He takes a step or two closer, and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear with the gentlest hand, he thinks, yeah. I believe in her.

[chyrstis]

OC Aesthetic Tag Game

Tagged by: @strafethesesinners @aceghosts @faithchel @shallow-gravy @chazz-anova @nightwingshero and @adelaidedrubman a bit back! I’ve been wating to do this for forever now for Hana, and finally managed to sneak in some time to do so. 

Tagging: @writerofblocks @twistedsinews @hunnybadgerv @painterofhorizons @cobb-vanthss @amistrio @redroci​ @jackalopestride​ @teamhawkeye @unlikelynick @geronimo-11 @jenchwuq @heroofpenamstan​ @belorage​ @johnnycranes @gamerpurgatory @lilwritingraven​ @triedtriedtired​ @princess-underthemountain​ and anyone else that thinks this would be fun to try! And if you’ve already been tagged, please don’t mind me at all. <3

Deputy Hana Vao

Bold = always/totally fits them italics = sometimes/somewhat applies/sorta fits them strikethrough = never

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS. effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS. crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST. lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES. denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS. newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

AURORAS. combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS. dancing until the break of dawn, heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair. :

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE. hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION. arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact (entirely reserved for one lucky, lucky individual in particular) / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE. hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY. chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION. short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— SENSES

SIGHT. small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york night city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colours.

HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and a / c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH. being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE. coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

[shyvioletcat]

I’d like to place a request for Aelin singing Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars and Rowan overhearing it (you decide if it’s intentional or her singing in the shower or drunk karaoke hehe) in Striking Matches of course 😉 since that hasn’t happened yet

cont: Oops wait I always forget it’s technically by Mark Ronson ft Bruno Mars ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ my bad it’s a collab

I went with something different, but let’s be real... Aelin would just about sing this song every chance she gets.

So Timeline wise, this so just after they get together. It’s probably been a month and a half since he busted her door.

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

The fire alarm ringing through the school gym had the kids in a panic, it even took a few moments for Aelin to get her own feelings under control. But when her kids had flocked to her, their scared faces wide-eyed, she pulled herself together. When she had volunteered to chaperone the Halloween dance this is not what she expected. 

Her and the other teachers ushered the kids outside, not even a trace of smoke to be found but still they got all the kids out to the car park. It was soon apparent that some cheeky troublemaker, probably urged on by their peers, had pulled the alarm and there was no real threat of fire. But they had to follow protocol and that meant the greater portion of the student body from grades 4-6 were huddled in the car park —all in their costumes— waiting for the firefighters to turn up to give the official all clear. The poor things were getting cold in the brisk October air and still nervous after all the drama. Aelin wasn’t feeling particularly warm herself in her Alice in Wonderland costume, the striped tights at least were offering her some protection from the cold. 

So Aelin did the first thing she could think of. 

Turning her phone full volume she led a dance party in the empty spaces of the parking lot. She was dancing to hype the kids up, most likely looking like a dork as she did the sprinkler for the umpteenth just as the fire engine pulled up. The team unloaded from the vehicle very quickly, Lorcan barely gave the excited children a second glance, but Aelin’s students were thrilled to see Rowan again and he gave them a wide smile and a wave. Fenrys directed a thumbs up to her in approval of her dance moves before he waved to the kids as well, giving them some finger guns to top it off.

Another song played through and the whining of the alarm stopped and everyone cheered. Lorcan appeared again and went to clear things with the principal then the others started filing out. Out of nowhere an idea struck Aelin, a song that seemed too perfect to pass up in the moment. So she unlocked her phone, scrolling through until she found the song she wanted. 

The poppy vocalising at the intro of the song started and she made sure to keep at least one eye of Rowan as everyone started dancing. She saw the twins share a look and then they were laughing. Gavriel was just shaking his head. 

This hit, that ice cold

Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold

This one for them hood girls

Them good girls straight masterpieces

Aelin sang along and somewhere she heard Lysandra cackling. 

Stylin', wilin', livin' it up in the city

Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent

Gotta kiss myself, I'm so pretty

I'm too hot –– hot damn

Aelin pointed at Rowan who was trying his damndest not to smile. He was failing. 

Called a police and a fireman

I'm too hot –– hot damn

Make a dragon wanna retire man

I'm too hot –– hot damn

Say my name you know who I am

I'm too hot –– hot damn

And my band 'bout that money, break it down

Aelin wiggling her shoulders ridiculously at him had him breaking and he laughed. By then Rowan had reached and took her by the hand, spinning her a few times –– her apron and skirts fanning out. The kids, meanwhile, were going insane. 

When Rowan stopped the spinning Aelin’s hands landed on his shoulders. 

“Don’t you think this song is a little inappropriate for the little ones?” He said. 

“I suppose.” Aelin sighed and changed the song, a chorus of disappointed protests sounding. “But I just couldn’t resist.”

A terse Whitethorn came from the direction of the fire engine, making both Aelin and Rowan look over. The rest of the team was loaded back up ready to head back to the station. Aelin linked her arm with Rowan and handed her phone off to Lysandra so she could keep the party going while the executives decided what to do next. 

“Will you come by for breakfast tomorrow? I bought a fresh box of toaster waffles,” Aelin asked, leaning close to leech his warmth. 

“Those things taste like cardboard,” Rowan complained. 

Aelin just she rolled her eyes. “Fine, come for the company then.” 

“I think I’d rather eat the cardboard,” Rowan replied, the corners of his mouth betraying him as they quirked upwards. 

“Remind me again why I agreed to make us a thing?” Aelin said as she let go him and Rowan put one foot on the step of the turck then leaned in closer to her. 

“How about I remind you tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice little more than a purr. “And I’ll pick something up from a bakery on the way home.”

Rowan pulled himself up into the cab before Aelin could reply, but she was smiling as he rolled down the window. Then she stepped up onto the step as Rowan leaned out the window. 

“I like that sound of that.”

They were both smiling when their lips met but they managed. They broke apart when Fenrys’ wolf whistle startled them both, Aelin managed to refrain from flipping him of for the sake of the students and the reprimands it would get her if any of her superiors saw. 

“See you in the morning,” Rowan said, Aelin’s reply was a two fingers salute as the truck drove away.

Aelin watched it go until it had turned and she couldn’t see Rowan anymore. When she went to go back to the impromptu dance party she noticed one of her students, Benjamin, standing on the outskirts watching her, his mouth hanging open in surprise. 

“You okay there, Benjamin?” Aelin asked.

It took him a moment to answer and he looked past her to where the fire engine had been parked, then he beckoned her closer. Aelin rested her hands on her knees so she was just about level with him. 

“Miss G, did you just kiss Fireman Whitethorn?” He whispered. 

Aelin nodded. “I did.”

“But…” Benjamin’s brow furrowed. “You’re only supposed to kiss people who are you boyfriend or girlfriend. Is Mr Whitethorn your boyfriend?” 

The boy was so excited and perplexed he’d completely forgotten about the fireman bit. 

“He is,” she said simply. 

Aelin couldn’t wait to tell Rowan about the look of sheer delight that spread over Benjamin’s face when she told him. He spun around, no doubt to spread this new revelation amongst his classmates, she could practically see the ripple of excitement move through the crowd. Aelin just laughed and kept dancing until the parents started to arrive to pick up their kids.

~~~~~

I say it every time but... I miss these two.

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[wanderingaldecaldo]

Tagged by @gloryride, thanks! I haven’t done one of these before, and honestly I don’t put a lot of time into my OC’s backstories – things just kinda bubble up as I need them, so this will be fun! Tagging if they want to play along, but no pressure: @ryyn-strange, @nunyabizu​

Valerie

Key: bold - applies, italics - sometimes applies — LIGHT SOURCES SUN RAYS.

effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS.

crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST.

lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES.

denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS.

newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin

AURORAS.

combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS.

dancing until the break of dawn, Heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair.

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest, crossing legs, fist-like gestures, pointing index finger, karate chops, stiffening of shoulders, tense posture, curling of lip, baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE.

hand-to-face gestures, head tilted, stroking chin, peering over glasses, taking glasses off; cleaning, putting earpiece of glasses in mouth, pipe smoker gestures, putting hand to bridge of nose, pursed lips, knitted brows

SUSPICION.

arms crossed, sideways glance, touching or rubbing nose, rubbing eyes, hands resting on weapon, brows raising, lips pressing into a thin line, strict, unwavering eye contact, wrinkling of nose, narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE.

hands behind back, hands on lapels of coat, steepled hands, baring teeth in a grin, rolling shoulders, tipping head back but maintaining eye contact, chest puffed up, shoulders back, arms folded just above navel, wide eyes, standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY.

chewing pen or pencil, rubbing thumb over opposite thumb, biting fingernails, biting lips, hands in pockets, elbow bent, closed gestures, clearing throat, “whew” sound, picking or pinching flesh, fidgeting in chair, hand covering mouth whilst speaking, poor eye contact, tugging pants whilst seated, jingling money in pockets, tugging at ear, perspiring hands, playing with hair, swaying, playing with pointer; marker; cane, smacking lips, sighing, rocking on balls of feet, flexing or cracking fingers sporadically, leg bouncing

ANGER & FRUSTRATION.

short breaths, “tsk” sounds, tightly-clenched hands, fist-like gestures, pointing index finger, rubbing hand through hair, rubbing back of neck, snarling, revealing teeth, grimacing, sharp-eye glowers, notable tension in brow, shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing, clenching of jaw, grinding teeth, nostrils flaring, heavy exhales

— SENSES

SIGHT.

small towns, big cities, six thirty curfews, lights that take the place of stars, blanket nests, light through the blinds as a wake up call, found family, finding a single star in the middle of new york night city, window shopping, watching something terrible and enjoying it, growing numb to the sight of injustice, wilted flowers, faded caricatures, bright, bold colours

HEARING.

crickets and lightning bugs, car engines and a.c. units, a phone call to mum/dad, laughing with friends, jokes that are so bad you have to laugh, the clicking of computer keys, noise cancelling headphones, the sound of silence, muffled music from another room, drumming fingertips on a table, clicking of pens, listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower, ringing in the ears, the voice of someone you love, pitch shifted songs

TOUCH.

being held close during a long night, fleeting reassurances, holding hands when you’re scared, brushing fingers through strands of hair, freshly dried clothes, bruises on your knuckles, silk and satin, your favourite pet’s fur or feather, wringing your hands anxiously, snuggles, comforters in the dead of winter, nails against skin, cold metal, leather in summer

TASTE.

coffee in the morning, tea in the evening, bubblegum that lost its flavor, alcohol burning the back of your throat, homemade cooking, no matter what’s made, blood in your mouth, stale air, mint, fresh vegetables, that processed taste of citrus candy, the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good, foreign sweets, fast street food, bittersweet, sour, spicy, sweet, bitter, too much salt on fries

[sailorsol]

Jumping on the Jet Feels train.

Centares had been a shit show from start to finish. Valor’s mission had been to gather intel on Republic sympathizers, but they hadn’t even managed to find the insurgents before being ambushed by a battalion of battle droids. They’d been lucky enough to dig in to some old mines, but that also meant two tendays of holding the line under constant barrage and with limited supplies until Winder could provide air support and evac.

Lucky enough that Neyo only had three new names to add to the inside of his breastplate in remembrance. Crash, Jaig, and Boxer would join the list of other Valors Neyo hadn’t been able to save since the war started.

He watched his lieutenants and Captain Kles filter back into the converted cargo hold, the last to cycle through the freshers and chow line. Neyo acknowledged Kles’ lazy salute with a nod of his head as his officers made their way towards a corner of the hold. There was barely any floor surface that wasn’t covered in blankets and cushions and pillows, Winder and Valor vode dispersed throughout.

They were safe here on the Dinui be Vercopaan . Winder had the watch as they wove their way back towards Republic space. It would be another day at least before they’d need to leave the Perlimian Way to get past the Seppie blockade and hope whatever unit was patrolling the Republic side didn’t blast them out of the sky.

Winder had the watch, and Neyo’s men were taking advantage of that, armor stacked away to be cleaned and repaired after a solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep and a handful of hearty meals. This was the closest thing to leave they would see before their next assignment. Neyo had to push down the anger that came with that thought; it would do no one any good here. For now, at least, his men could rest.

The lights dimmed as Jet joined Neyo, a plastifoam cup in each hand. Neyo accepted one, letting the warmth soak into his hands before taking a sip. He’d expected caf, but was met with the rich and creamy taste of Hoth chocolate instead. Judging by the smell, Jet’s cup was filled with caf strong enough to be used as engine fuel. Three days ago, Neyo would have considered murder or severe maiming for even a sip of strong, hot caf, but right now the chocolate tasted like bliss. “Thanks,” Neyo told the other commander, gesturing vaguely with his cup.

“Sure. It’s your turn to clean up and eat,” Jet replied. Neyo was still in his mud-caked armor, but that didn’t seem to bother Jet as he pressed his shoulder against Neyo’s. The warmth he could feel had to be imagined, but after half a month in a dark, damp mineshaft Neyo would take what he could get. “And I made sure a pudding cup got saved for you. It’s even one of your normal flavors you say we never have for you.”

Neyo raised a dubious eyebrow. “Do I really want to know what you consider ‘normal’?”

“We didn’t even have to order it special off the holonet,” Jet continued with all the faux innocence a vod’ika could muster. “But if you really don’t want the lemon, I think there’s some teal flavored ones left.”

Neyo opened his mouth to ask what teal flavored meant before thinking better of it. Sometimes ignorance was bliss, and right now he was too tired to tell if Jet was just winding him up. A shower and food were both good ideas. His men were clean and fed, ensconced in piles of ridiculously soft blankets and fluffy pillows that were definitely non-regulation, with brothers all around. He could afford to see to his own needs, but something kept him there even as his men slept.

Jet bumped their shoulders together again. “Come on. My boys will keep an eye on them.” He didn’t wait for Neyo’s agreement, taking him by the elbow to guide him out of the hold. Neyo paused in the doorway to look back one last time, forcing down the lump in his throat and the tremble trying to shake him apart. They would be okay for the night, even without Neyo’s hovering presence.

Winder had the watch.

[marblecarved]

your character’s aesthetics as the five senses.

bold what applies to your character, italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don't reblog ! 

sight: small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colors.

sound: crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and ac units. a phone call to mom or dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. deafening gunfire. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks are getting slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

touch: being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favorite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

taste: coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that has lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. the processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

scent: morning glories and honeysuckles. freshly cut grass. hot chocolate in the middle of winter. nail polish. hospital rooms. smoke. hair spray. your favorite shampoo and conditioner. the scent of home. perfume. cologne. mint. something burning. wet dogs. copper. metal. leather. un-emptied ashtrays. something familiar yet different. campfires.

tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and you would like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this from me ! 

[zet-sway]

I got tagged by at least four people for this but it was probably two weeks ago and I can only remember @commander-krios @rosenkow and I think @spookyvalentine

Thank you all so much for thinking of me! I had so much fun with this!

December Shepard :D

Bold = always/totally fits them, italics = sometimes/somewhat applies/sorta fits the

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE. hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth/ pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION. arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE. hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY. chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION. short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS. effervescent smiles / dandelion puffs / bare feet / beach waves / flowers pressed into books / champagne glasses / rose-gold eye shadow / boho skirts / wire-rimmed glasses / hair in loose waves / kaleidoscope eyes / sunshine in your hair / fire in your soul

INCANDESCENT BULBS. crop tops / floral print / dancing in the rain / quiet defiance / hand-knit beanies / rosé / painted bookmarks / marble floors / cirrus clouds against a blue sky / polaroid pictures / hands held / fingers intertwined / flower crowns / baby bluebirds

STARDUST. lace bralettes / brisk breezes / jasmine-scented perfume / books with yellowed pages / tracking constellations / sterling silver / violin music / chess games / iced coffee / glittery dresses / high heels / secret grins / midnight meetings / wishing upon a star

CANDLE FLAMES. denim jackets / gladiator sandals / braided hair / messenger bags / movies at the cinema / stolen kisses / wax-sealed envelopes / haiku poetry / cherry wood / succulents / fountain pens / jigsaw puzzles / soft tired eyes / hidden smiles / cuddling with someone you trust

MOONBEAMS. newspapers / over-sized sweaters / dancing shadows / fleece throws / cutoff shorts / piano chords / red wine / messy buns / embossed journals / a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks / freshly fallen snow / tranquil solitude / burning incense / light hair and dark skin

AURORAS. combat boots / burgundy lips / infectious laughter / spiral-bound notebooks / pencils used down to the stub / ripped jeans / painted nails / cloud-watching / summer thunderstorms / hiking trails / vinyl records / film cameras / skating on a frozen lake / hot chocolate by the fire

FIREWORKS. dancing until the break of dawn / heelys / being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend / the euphoria of soaring through the air / being excited for what the future holds / group hugs / colorful tattoos / bronzer-highlighted cheeks / hugging a stuffed animal / lifting a child onto your shoulders / space buns / bright streaks in your hair

— SENSES

SIGHT. small towns / big cities / six thirty curfews / lights that take the place of stars / blanket nests / light through the blinds as a wake up call / found family / finding a single star in the middle of new york night city / window shopping / watching something terrible and enjoying it / growing numb to the sight of injustice / wilted flowers / faded caricatures / bright, bold colours

HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs / car engines and ac units / a phone call to mum or dad / laughing with friends / jokes that are so bad you have to laugh / the clicking of computer keys / noise cancelling headphones / the sound of silence / muffled music from another room / drumming fingertips on a table / clicking of pens / listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower / ringing in the ears / the voice of someone you love / pitch shifted songs

TOUCH. being held close during a long night / fleeting reassurances / holding hands when you’re scared / brushing fingers through strands of hair / freshly dried clothes / bruises on your knuckles / silk and satin / your favourite pet’s fur or feather / wringing your hands anxiously / snuggles / comforters in the dead of winter / nails against skin / cold metal / leather in summer

TASTE. coffee in the morning / tea in the evening / bubblegum that lost its flavor / alcohol burning the back of your throat / homemade cooking no matter what’s made / blood in your mouth / stale air / mint / fresh vegetables / that processed taste of citrus candy / the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good / foreign sweets / fast food / bittersweet / sour / spicy / sweet / bitter / too much salt on fries

[bankaizen]

oc aesthetic tag game

i was tagged by @rosenkow​ to do this for an oc! thank you, dear!

gonna do this one for farrah shepard (mass effect trilogy) ;; tagging anyone else who wants to do this!

Bold = always/totally fits them, italics = sometimes/somewhat applies/sorta fits them

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE. hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION. arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE. hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY. chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures /clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets/ tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION. short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS. effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS. crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST. lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES. denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS. newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

AURORAS. combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS. dancing until the break of dawn, heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair.

— SENSES

SIGHT. small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york night city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colours.

HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH. being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE. coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

[necro-hamster]

OC Aesthetic Tag Game tagged by @strafethesesinners !! <3 tagging @shellibisshe / @raccoondog3 / @edenmaiden / @mediocre-life-span​ / @dirtyimbecile​ !!

Bold = always / totally fits them Italics = sometimes/somewhat applies/sorta fits them Strikethrough = never

( OC : DANIEL GRAY )

— LIGHT SOURCES

( SUN RAYS. ) effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

( INCANDESCENT BULBS. ) crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

( STARDUST. ) lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

( CANDLE FLAMES. ) denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

( MOONBEAMS. ) newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

( AURORAS. ) combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

( FIREWORKS. ) dancing until the break of dawn, heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair.

— BODY LANGUAGE

( DEFENSIVENESS. ) arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

( REFLECTIVE. ) hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

( SUSPICION. ) arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

( CONFIDENCE. ) hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

( INSECURITY & ANXIETY. ) chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

( ANGER & FRUSTRATION. ) short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— SENSES

( SIGHT. ) small towns / big cities / six thirty curfews / lights that take the place of stars / blanket nests / light through the blinds as a wake up call / found family / finding a single star in the middle of new york night city / window shopping / watching something terrible and enjoying it / growing numb to the sight of injustice / wilted flowers / faded caricatures / bright, bold colours

( HEARING. ) crickets and lightning bugs / car engines and ac units / a phone call to mum or dad / laughing with friends / jokes that are so bad you have to laugh / the clicking of computer keys / noise cancelling headphones / the sound of silence / muffled music from another room / drumming fingertips on a table / clicking of pens / listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower / ringing in the ears / the voice of someone you love / pitch shifted songs

( TOUCH. ) being held close during a long night / fleeting reassurances / holding hands when you’re scared / brushing fingers through strands of hair / freshly dried clothes / bruises on your knuckles / silk and satin / your favorite pet’s fur or feather / wringing your hands anxiously / snuggles / comforters in the dead of winter / nails against skin / cold metal / leather in summer

( TASTE. ) coffee in the morning / tea in the evening / bubblegum that lost its flavor / alcohol burning the back of your throat / homemade cooking, no matter what’s made / blood in your mouth / stale air / mint / fresh vegetables / that processed taste of citrus candy / the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good / foreign sweets / fast food / bittersweet / sour / spicy / sweet / bitter / too much salt on fries

[lilwritingraven]

OC Aesthetics

Tagged by @faithchel @strafethesesinners @scungilliwoman @adelaidedrubman @shallow-gravy @rejected-beater @yeetslovescheese and @jollybone thank you guys!!

Tagging: @rejected-beater @jollybone @cullxtheherd @blissfulalchemist @oorah22 @stacispratt @honeysides @nightwingshero @shellibisshe @cobb-vanthss @gamerpurgatory @hoesephseed @unleashedart

gif made by my beautiful friend @honeysides ;-;

Bold=always/totally fits them italics=sometimes/somewhat applies/sorta fits them strikethrough=never

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS. effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS. crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST. lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES. denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS. newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

AURORAS. combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS. dancing until the break of dawn, heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair. :

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE. hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION. arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE. hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY. chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION. short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— SENSES

SIGHT. small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york night city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it.growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colours.

HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and a / c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH. being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE. coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.