#when am i gonna make anything other than doodles? unknown

[joosiewiththeboof]

I think im getting better at drawing him

featuring my oc in the middle there his name is EZ

[sserpente]

A/N: I had this idea a while back. It’s not necessarily that Christmassy so if you’re going to read this outside of the Christmas season or you don’t celebrate Christmas, you’ll be fine too. Have fun!

Words: 2892 Warnings: spiked drink/drug consumption, fluff

“I can’t believe you persuaded me to come.” Eddie took a puff from his cigarette, eyeing the ongoing party through his open van window up and down with dismay. People he knew from school but never spoke to crowded the place, some of them dancing, some of the snogging, some of them puking and all of them drinking.

Now Eddie wasn’t opposed to a few good beers and raiding his uncle’s spirit cabinet every now and then but the mindless High School partying had certainly never been his cup of tea—regardless of the fact that no one ever invited him anyway.

“You wanted to come!” Dustin exclaimed over the loud music. It was his first party since joining High School. Lucas had convinced the other jocks to invite him and his friends and now here he was, making sure little Henderson didn’t do anything stupid.

“I only came because you said there were gonna be drugs.” Plus, he wouldn’t say no to selling a few bags tonight himself. He could use the cash, especially after Wayne had confessed money was gonna be tight for the rest of the month.

“Look, I don’t like these parties either but Lucas wanted us to come and we’re gonna have fun and have a drink and dance…” Dustin offered him a goofy and innocent smile. Eddie smirked, ruffling the younger boy’s hair. He took a final puff from his cigarette and got out of the car. He’d get back home to his beloved guitar to practice some new tunes soon enough. Henderson wouldn’t make it past 1 am, he was sure of that.

-

You liked winter-break-Christmas parties. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself to not feel completely crazy and like an old woman. Loud music, teens rubbing their body parts on each other, underage drinking and sometimes, more often than not, destroyed furniture. Your social battery was running low today. In fact, it always ran low. But this was what you were supposed to be doing, right? Partying, enjoying life, enjoying your youth and doing stupid things before you had to grow up and do your taxes and shit.

Of all people, it had been your mum to let you come here in the first place, to meet new people and finally make friends because apparently, it was abnormal to move to a new place and go unnoticed for over a year. Well, you enjoyed the solitude and the additional time the loner method gave you to read and plan your next concerts.

At least the alcohol was good. You’d already had a beer and now made your way back to the hallway with a red plastic cup filled with an unknown mix of expensive spirits—the good stuff—in hand, too lost in thought to watch where you were going… well, actually you were avoiding looking people in the eye, when you bumped into a leather jacket and a washed-out Metallica shirt.

“Oh, sorry…” You choked out, your words swallowed by the loud bass of the music—and gasped for air when your eyes locked with a pair of chocolate button eyes. Eddie The Freak Munson offered you an apologetic smile and raised his hands in defeat. Not exactly what you had expected from someone who dressed like him and regularly brought the teachers at school to a white rage but who you were you to judge? Most people didn’t even know your name here in Hawkins.

The thing was just… you had spoken before. O’Donnells had made a habit out of pairing the two of you during her classes. You were both so equally horrible at Spanish that she must have given up on making an effort for you to improve and just let you do your grammatically horrendous thing. Eddie was doodling in class most of the time or singing and playing some song in his head but still, lessons with him were always… fun. In fact, Eddie was adorable. You’d long have made a move to ask him out if you had the guts to do it. Judging by his battle jacket, he did like the same music, after all.

“You okay?” Eddie tilted his head, his expression getting a little more serious. “You look a little uncomfortable.”

“I think I’ve come to the conclusion I don’t like crowds unless there’s a stage with a band playing right in front of me,” you said.

“Fair point. Why did you come?”

“I’m not sure… aren’t we supposed to like all this?” You gestured around the overcrowded hallway.

“Nah… being like everyone else is overrated,” he responded with a wink. Your heart skipped a beat.

Grinning and to conceal how flustered he’d just made you, you asked, “Why… are you here then, Munson?”

“Henderson. It’s his first party.”

“Oh. That’s… nice of you.” You leaned against your wall, taking a huge gulp from your cup. Whatever it was, it tasted amazing. Fruity. You drank some more. “It doesn’t feel like a Christmas party though.”

“The tree is missing. Definitely,” he agreed, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You looked at each other for a moment and laughed.

“How’s, uh… how’s your music coming along?” You asked, genuine interest swinging in your voice. You drank some more. The alcohol was making you brave. Made it easier for you to talk to Eddie. Well, perhaps that was also because you were not trying to speak to him in Spanish.

“Pretty well, actually. We play gigs at the Hideout now.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” Another gulp. “You should make some posters and plaster them outside of Hawkins to raise some attention.”

“Yeah, we should… we should.” You had a feeling he didn’t elaborate because printing posters cost a shit ton of money. You couldn’t blame him and you doubted they were getting paid for their gigs. You felt your cheeks heating up when he gave you a smile instead, his brown eyes drifting to your hand holding the cup for a moment.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot!”

“Could you… help me paint my nails sometime?”

“Your nails? Your nails?” You took a look at your own nails. You didn’t think you’d ever used a colour other than black.

“Yeah… I think it would look quite metal.”

You laughed. “Well… you’re not wrong. But if that’s the case, you should go all the way out and make your eyes pop with black eyeliner.”

Eddie’s eyes practically lit up.

“I can lend you mine,” you continued. “If you’re gonna get sweaty during your gig you want something that lasts, not the cheap stuff from the drugstore.”

“Is there a catch?” He asked, almost suspiciously. You shook your head.

“No.” Your lips parted when his expression hardened with a start and he stared at someone in the distance somewhere behind you.

“Everything okay?” Another gulp. Damn, that drink was really good. You’d emptied half of it already.

“Just… Carver and his laundry basket crew…” He turned back to you. “Hey, do you mind if we head to the porch for a moment?”

“Ugh… he still thinks you’re a satanic cult leader, huh?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders as you followed him outside. You let out a sigh of relief when the sounds of the party got quieter, replaced by the peaceful chirping of the cicadas.

“I mean, what does he think you’re going to do? Dice them to death?”

His laugh went down like soft butter, caressing your ears and his grin… his grin made your heart flutter. Damn it. You weren’t about to develop a crush on this man, were you?

“Maybe… I could imagine throwing a D20 at people with full force hurts.”

“You should hide under the tribune during the next game and do that just to make a point,” you suggested, giggling to yourself. That drink was kicking in fast. Might as well use the liquid courage to have a proper conversation with Eddie.

“Tell me about your game. I don’t know an awful lot about D&D but it sounds creative.”

Eddie mimicked you when you leaned against the wall, crossing his arms before his chest. His boyish grin grew even wider as he began to tell you about his newest campaign that was going to “wreck the boys”.

You weren’t sure how many minutes passed, only that your cup got lighter and lighter—much like your head. You stumbled a little, blinking just a little too fast.

“You okay?” Eddie tilted his head, stopping his passionate retelling. The question was reasonable. You felt… funny, to say the least. Funny enough to throw yourself into Eddie’s arms and squeeze him tight. “You are sooo handsome, you know? I just don’t have the balls to tell you. Plus I don’t know how to say it in Spanish,” you giggled, pressing your cheek against his shirt. He smelled nice, minus the cigarette smoke.

Eddie caught you, almost losing his balance in the process. “Uh…”

“I’m soo happy you’re here. I’m soo happy I’m here!” You giggled once more, a lot more hysterically this time.

Eddie pushed you an arm’s length away from him, concern visible on his face. You didn’t register it properly but giggled when he cupped your face with both his calloused hands, his cold rings cooling your heated cheeks. He looked you deep in the eye, almost as if to inspect them.

“Shit…”

“Whaaat?”

“Do you feel… high… by any chance?” Your eyes widened.

“I’m high?” You screeched.

“Give me that.” Eddie didn’t wait for an answer. Unceremoniously, he snatched the red cup from your hand and gave it a sniff. Then he took a sip and spat it out only a heartbeat later.

“What’s happening to me, Eddie?” You giggled once more.

“Someone’s spiked your drink.”

“Whaaaaat?” You drew the word out even more this time. Granted, that would explain the funny feeling. You wanted to cover Eddie in kisses until he begged you for mercy—everywhere. His face, his hands and those damned rings, his chest, his thighs… his cock… oh fuck, you really were high.

“Yeah. And they didn’t exactly measure the dose by the taste of that.”

“How do you even taste that?”

“That’s… a question for another time. Come on… woah… careful.” Eddie caught you just in time when you lost your balance and almost collided with the ground. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Nooo…”

“What, were you gonna walk?”

“Not too far.”

“Not too far? You don’t live too far away, you mean?” Eddie sighed, frustration visible on his handsome and cute face when you only shrugged. He put an arm around you to give you support, reluctantly leading you back inside.

“Hey, Harrington, are you drunk?” He called out when he found who he seemed to be looking for.

“What? No.”

“Can you take Henderson home for me later?”

“Sure… what happened?” Steve eyed you up and down, his lips slightly parted. You chuckled. You used to have the biggest crush on him when you first moved here—much like everyone else.

“Drugs. Overdose. Drink spiked. Quite possibly Ecstasy.”

“Shit… Eddie, she needs a hospital.”

“Nah, that’s just gonna get her in trouble once she’s all sobered up. And me too, given that I’m the one who’d take her there. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen that, I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“Alright… but call me if something goes wrong. I’ll be calling it a night soon.”

Eddie grinned at him. “You’re getting old, big boy.”

It was the last thing you remembered him saying before the world went blurry and all you could still think about was how you wanted to crawl under Eddie’s skin to cuddle him properly.

-

Ow. The headache was terrible. You woke up to a spinning room, your brain pounding against your skull. You sat up, making the spinning even worse, and opened your eyes, rubbing your temples in the process.

Weird. You didn’t remember taking your shoes and jacket off before you went to bed. In fact, you couldn’t remember going to bed altogether. And… since when did you have a Metallica poster on your door?

Confused, you looked around. This wasn’t your room. There were clothes scattered all over, a crazy expensive-looking e-guitar hanging on the wall next to two pairs of… handcuffs? Oh, and the surfaces of the desk and his nightstand were practically invisible. Were those condoms? You blushed. Oh… oh fuck, what if you…?

Your heart skipped a beat when the door opened and the man in question entered his room, closing the door behind him quietly. He froze when you realised you had woken up.

“Hi…”

“Hey… uh…”

“There’s some water on the nightstand. Don’t worry I put it there just before you woke up, hasn’t been sitting there for days. You gotta hydrate.”

“Thank you.” Taking him up on his offer, you reached for the glass and emptied it with but a few greedy gulps.

“What… what happened?” You asked.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Well… we talked… we went outside because you wanted to avoid Jason and the others… I… I think we were talking about D&D? The rest… the rest is all gone.”

“That drink you had was spiked with drugs,” Eddie said matter-of-factly. You’d never seen him so serious. You clutched the empty glass tighter. “Some stupid party game. They fill up a bunch of cups with alcohol and mix drugs in a few of them. Whoever gets ‘lucky’ to drink it up…” His hand movement explained the rest. Ends up like you. “I took you home as soon as I realised. But then I also realised that I have no idea where you live so… I brought you to my place. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Thank you, Eddie. What was that in that drink anyway?”

“Ecstasy, I think. That shit is intense on its own but whatever asshole put it in your drink, they didn’t dose it right. That, uh… could have killed you. But,” he went on, sitting down on a chair the wrong way around, “you’re not vomiting your guts out right now so that’s a good sign.”

“Oh. Good to know.” You paused, biting your lower lip. “Eddie… we, uh… we didn’t… um… you know… right?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Oh no! No, no, no, don’t worry, sweetheart. I just… got rid of your shoes and your jacket and tucked you into bed. Even slept on the couch like a true gentleman,” he responded, grinning proudly in the process.

“Oh good… I just thought…” You glanced at the condoms on the nightstand.

“Oh yeah… I… didn’t expect to have anyone over. Didn’t bother cleaning up a little.”

You nodded. His room was pretty much exactly how you’d imagined it. Full of metal stuff and records, plastered in posters, a little chaotic and messy but all in all, cosy and homely.

“What else… did I say… and do? I literally… I don’t remember anything.”

“Not much… Uh… you were giggling a lot on the ride here.”

“W-what else?”

The metalhead shrugged. “You were all over me… but you would have found a tree attractive in that state, so don’t worry about it…”

Your lips parted. Oh. So your high self had admitted to Eddie that you were crushing on him. Just great. “I don’t, I… I mean, I do… never mind.” Your head was still hurting way too much to confess your feelings, even if you longed to give him some confidence he appeared to be lacking with you. A tree. A fucking tree. Did he not realise how incredibly hot he was?

“D-Does anyone know I’m here?” You asked then, if anything to shut up your brain.

“Harrington does. But the police don’t have a clue about what happened if that’s what you’re wondering.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Thank you… my mum would have quite possibly killed me.”

Eddie smiled. “Yeah… well, your secret’s safe with me. To be fair, you didn’t know what you were drinking. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“I think… I think I do remember something though. How… how did you know I was high and not just tipsy?”

You watched him shift in his chair a little. Pleasant shivers ran up and down your spine when he spoke your name. “I, uh… deal. I know a thing or two about drugs and I know how to do it safely… more or less.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

Silence spread between you. Comfortable silence. Who knows what would have happened last night if Eddie hadn’t been there to recognise your symptoms and take you to his place to rest? You couldn’t believe people made him out to be a villain. He was most definitely one of the sweetest men you’d ever met.

“Eddie…?”

He looked up, a little unsure of what to say, so it seemed.

“You wouldn’t, uh… like to… go out sometime, would you?”

“Go out? With you?” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yes…” You smiled. “Besides… I owe you some nail polish and eyeliner. After last night’s stunt, you can have both.”

Eddie grinned sheepishly. “There’s an amazing band playing just outside of Hawkins next week. I can get you a ticket?”

A metal concert—that sounded like a perfect date idea for someone like Eddie. You chuckled. “Of course. Let’s do it. I’ll bring the make-up, promise.”

-

A/N: I saw some videos of Joseph speaking some German words in Dortmund. I am deceased, he is adorable! Alright... I hope you enjoyed that, haha!

Also, my first novel is coming out! FINALLY! Check out my pinned post on my blog for more details! ♥

[leynaeithnea]

Introduction:

Hehylo, I'm Leyna or Ley

-> she/her, sometimes they

-> I can legally drink in the US (I won’t, I'm boring, I don't rly drink, smoke, i don't even drink coffee or energy drinks, I'm boring, I’m also not from that continent)

-> probably bi, idek not straight probably

-> trying to be a functional member of society but not doing great with that yet, keep questioning my life choices every few weeks

-> my blog is probably not family friendly

-> I'm mostly active on discord, you can add me under @ leynadeyemi ....but I tend to ignore unknown requests so maybe lmk on here first

Tags:

#LeyAnswers (ask replies)

#LeyWonders (asking questions to myself or others)

#LeysDoodles (stuff I draw or doodle)

#LeyRambles (ranting about stuff, probably trying to make a point)

#LeyWrites (anything related to my writing projects)

-> fandom tags

-> might add more tags i.e. for reblogs or stuff like that eventually

-> the writing projects get their own tags too

Content:

I'm a writer....well, I’m working on it, I'm neither good at writing nor storytelling, worldbuilding or character creation, but writing is the only thing that when I do it I don‘t feel like I’m secretly wasting my time, so imma keep doing it

Occasionally I draw and slowly getting a tiny bit better at that, mostly practicing digital, sometimes on paper, I also like playing around with all other stuff of digital arts: animation, trying to get into music again, editing,….long list, but mostly writing probably

Main writing projects:

Stolen Kingdom (working title) (#DayNightDusk): fantasy - trilology - no day-night cycle, political conflicts, no magic, mc wants to go home, enemies to lover's - worldbuilding, planning, plotting, character creation [-> still new and fully up to change]

Minto Wild (#MintoWild): epic/portal fantasy (probably?) - series - nine worlds, wild magic, the gods are gone, mc can manipulate and feel fear – worldbuilding, planning

Changeling King (#ChangelingKing): fantasy, folklore - novel (probably, duology maybe) - changelings, curses, withering world, otherworld, fairies – worldbuilding, planning

Starless - Starlit - Starborn (#Astaranay): gaslamp fantasy, galaxy core - series/triology - scholarship, constellations, stolen magic – worldbuilding

Rustle of Wings (#RustleOfWings): gaslamp fantasy, folklore - short story - moth, death omen, apothecary, fairies – editing

Shadows of Truth (#CakeMelonSword/ ShadowsOfTruth): lgbt fantasy romance - co-written novel (with two friends) - gods, fey, angels, truth and lies – plotting

(More that arent more than a single line or idea)

Hobbies/Interests, that I might mention or rant about:

Editing, history, mythology, folklore, fairies, writing, english, linguistics, culture, storytelling, witchy stuff, gardening/foraging, psychology, sociology, science like astronomoy (kinda, not the maths and physics behind it) probably more stuff

Fandoms I might reblog or mention/reference more frequently:

Epic the Musical

The Odyssey

Captive Prince Series

All for the Game series

The Silmarillion

Additionally:

-> reading mostly fantasy and lgbt, sometimes non fiction…mostly for research, sometimes for the brain

-> whatever I'm currently watching

-> i don't play a lot of games (mostly genshin and assassins creed syndicate) nor am I rly involved into any game fandoms, want to explore more games in the future though

Friend shenenigans with:

@underexasperation

@rudegizmo

@diovoppio

(Might start tagging interactions with #mydearestfriends)

#mutuals for interactions with other friends :>

Oh, i also tested out what these new communities were and made one for my stories, but considering I've only have two somewhat acceptable short-stories and an actually good co-written one, I don't think that's gonna be relevant anytime soon 😬 Unless you want me to ramble about my WIPs, in which case I wont refuse

[marmolady]

Homecoming: Part Two

Continued from PART ONE

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister, Variego

Summary: Endless Ending. Back on La Huerta for the first time since the world's resurrection, there are some heart-to-hearts with old friends in order.

Word Count: 4680

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

“Howdy there, pilot. Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Taylor asked as she stepped into the cockpit, squinting as she adjusted to the bright light that shone through the large windows as they soared over the Caribbean.

“You comin’ in here to annoy me is just part and parcel of my La Huerta jobs now, ain’t it?”

“Oh, Top Gun, so sentimental,” she teased-- but really, like she could talk.

Jake rested his hands behind his head and looked out over a familiar green spot in the blue expanse, now fast approaching. “Well, she’s no ‘Delilah’, that’s for sure. If something comes to me, it comes to me. But like I say, it ain’t the same. It’s not as if you people are about to let me hide from the world with this baby as my only friend.”

“Damn straight.”

“Thought as much. Well, everything’s reading as normal; think we might make it, sans freaky storms this time.” Jake turned to his visitor with a smirk. “I’m still gonna want you to get your ass in a seat. A landing’s a landing.”

Safely in her seat-- Estela by her side, and little Fenix in a pet carrier tucked against the seat in the next aisle-- Taylor felt her stomach doing violent flip-flops as the green spot in the ocean came closer, beginning to take on detail. Rivers she’d bathed in snaking out to the sea, Atropo looming, and the now-abandoned Celestial-- still standing by all appearances unchanged-- in its shadow.

Estela was calm and quiet, contemplative as the small plane descended. So much about this journey was familiar, and yet, everything had changed. This time, marching towards her destiny wasn’t a lonely trail to a foregone violent conclusion; this time, the future was all a big unknown other than the fact that it would be anything but lonely. She wove her fingers with Taylor’s, feeling nerves flowing through, and gently squeezed.

“Almost there, querida.”

With a gentle bump, the plane was on the ground, and Taylor gave a small sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be rude about Jake’s flying ability, but until that point, she’d finished every ride with him in either a crash, a near crash… or plummeting into the sea. That she was something of a nervous flyer was, she thought, pretty damn reasonable.

In no time at all, the cabin door had been swung open, and the warm Caribbean air welcomed the small group home.

“And here I was worried I’d need to replace another plane. It seems the pilot can fly one of these things after all; that’s a fiver I owe you, Grace.”

“He of little faith,” Grace laughed, though it was quite clear she was at least somewhat giddy with relief. “Jake knows what he’s doing.”

No sooner had Taylor set her feet on La Huerta soil than a familiar figure was running towards her, streaking out of the cover of the foliage at the side of the runway.

“Diego! Ohmygod!”

Diego flung his arms around his friend and held her tight. Last he’d seen her, she’d only just clawed herself back from death’s door; Taylor was going to get hugged, and she was going to get hugged hard.

Estela set out into the humid air, immediately aware of the sounds of the jungle; insects and birds, rustling of leaves. Even the smell of the soil was distinctly La Huerta. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but… she was home.

_____________________________

An almost comically deep miaow made Estela jump. Engrossed in what she’d been writing-- and the frustrated doodles she’d been swirling on a separate piece of paper-- she hadn’t noticed Taylor’s cat, Madam, joining her on the wooden bench outside their home.

“I must be making myself crazy, hey Mierdita? I guess you’re here to make sure my senses stay sharp… or you’ve come to complain to me about Nixie.”

“Mow.”

Estela giggled and scooped the little cat, presently bright orange in colour, though that was subject to change, and hugged her to her chest. It was nice to have the company. Taylor was down on the beach, catching up with Diego for the first time in far too long. And what Estela was doing… for the most part, she needed to be left in her own space to do it. The little cat might have been a distraction, but from the number of doodles Estela had scribbled, it looked as though her productivity had already peaked for the time being.

“You’ll just have to learn to forgive Taylor. You know she likes to surround herself with lots of friends.”

Madam nimbly climbed her way up onto Estela’s shoulder, and enthusiastically rubbed against her face.

“I’m glad I can make you feel better. I guess I wasn’t getting anywhere with writing this anyway….”

With a little sigh, she tucked the unfinished letter in her hoodie. She’d written so many letters to her mother-- one for every week she’d been working here on the island-- but to find the words to say goodbye, to get some kind of closure, did not come easy. Maybe with a little more time to think….

“Hello?”

Estela looked up to see Varyyn outside the front of the house. “Haalta, Varyyn. I’m round the side.”

With a low growl, Madam ducked down into Estela’s hood and pressed herself against her neck. She eyed their visitor with great suspicion from her perch.

“It looks like your little friend is happy to have you back,” Varyyn said as he approached, “--and less pleased to see me.”

“Don’t worry; she has a lot to say, but it’s all talk. She won’t bite.”

Varyyn, rather daringly in Estela’s view-- though he did regularly hang around with a hulking smilodon, so maybe he was just good with cats-- reached and tickled Madam under her chin.

“I have been wanting to find you,” he said. “Diego had told me you were preparing a memorial for your mother.”

‘’S a long time coming,” Estela grunted. “And maybe it’ll be a long time still; I don’t want to do anything extravagant, but it’s got to be right.”

“That is fair. I hope I am not disturbing you.”

“No, no. I don’t mind,” she said, gentler. “So long as it’s in progress. Finally. I couldn’t exactly get any kind of closure until I’d dealt with Rourke, and then… I needed to go home. I dunno… maybe it was easier to feel it as anger, because the sadness was too much to bear if I let it take its place. When I let myself really feel it….” A tear rolled down her face, and she brushed it away. “I don’t know if I can say I’m at peace with it all… I don’t think I ever really can be. But I’m better. I brought over the letters Mom sent me when she was here on the island, to bury. And I then thought of writing again… to say goodbye. All I’ve gotta do now is find the words. Anyway,” she finished hurriedly, “you wanted me for something?”

Varyyn nodded sagely. It wasn’t lost on him the intimacy of what was being shared. Perhaps the violent death of his own mother had given Estela a sense of tragic kinship with him?

“Seraxa and I talked at great length. It had… troubled me that there had been no acknowledgement of your mother’s sacrifice. She must have felt very alone standing against the Hydra, but we will not see that bravery forgotten now.”

He reached into his satchel, and brought out a neatly folded set of clothes.

“To wear the traditional uniform of our warriors is the greatest of honours. We wish to pay tribute to your mother as a hero to the Vaanti, if you will accept this gift.”

Estela’s eyes grew wide, and her bottom lip wobbled. “I--- um, thank you.” That’s the best you can manage? “I… don’t know what to say. Thank you.” In Varyyn’s nod of understanding, the look in his eyes, it was plain to see he felt the depth of her gratitude.

A gentle smile came to Varyyn’s face, as though he was relieved. “It is your choice whether you would like to wear this in her honour, or simply keep it as part of your memorial.”

Her cheeks flushed, Estela hugged the folded uniform to her chest. There were just… no words to adequately say what the gesture meant. For Estela’s own protection, any trace of Olivia Montoya’s connection to Everett Rourke had been wiped from record; and with it, all evidence of the courageous last stand taken. But here she was remembered.

“I don’t think I’ve told you…,” Estela choked out after a little while. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m the best conversationalist… I don’t know what to say to people half the time.” She shook her head. “But, anyway, I always found you impressive. When your mother died… it was sudden, and brutal, and somehow you had the strength to honour her by taking up her mantle. Immediately. And you always seemed so together, however much you were crumbling on the inside. You had to be.”

“I had good friends to lean on. And I had Diego.” Varyyn chucked darkly. “It is terrible, but when you all came back through the gate, as much I was very sad for you all, and for Diego, that everything you knew and loved was gone… there was a very selfish part of me….” He stalled.

“Fair enough,” Estela said, not about to force him to finish a clearly uncomfortable sentence. “It had only been a couple of days. How’s anyone supposed to bear that much loss? While carrying the expectations and fears of your people? Diego gave you comfort when you needed it most. And… then you gave him the same.”

“Yes.”

Having that shoulder; it made all the difference. It made living through the worst of horrors bearable, and then, somehow… it made the act of living on, in hope, possible. Varyyn had Diego. She, Estela, had her Taylor. And they all had one another.

“We’re lucky we found the right people.”

___________________________

As she slogged through the soft white sand, Taylor wasn’t sure what was going to give out first, her legs or her lungs. Using her best friend’s hand as an anchor, she kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, Taylor, you know, it might be easier to have a real conversation if we sat down for a bit.”

Diego was polite and tactful, but what he meant was clearly; ‘You are an absolute wreck; sit down before you put yourself in an early grave’.

Taking the hint, Taylor flopped down heavily, squinting against the bright sun as she tried to get herself comfortable. While she struggled to get her breath back, Diego sat himself down close by, patiently letting her recover.

“I swear the beaches in San Trobida aren’t so much of a work-out,” Taylor said apologetically. “Not as soft. I have actually gotten a lot fitter, if you can believe it.”

Diego put a hand on her shoulder. “I can actually. You did a pretty good job of covering up how much you were struggling those last few days you were here, but I really don’t think you were fooling anyone. You do look better. Last time I saw you, it was hard not to get the impression that one stiff wind could have you over.”

Taylor snorted with laughter. “Damn, and I thought I put up a good front.”

“Not remotely. You are incredible, my friend, but a talented actor you are not.”

This was wonderful. The warmth of the sun of her body, and the easiest of company. Taylor reclined back, her arms propping her up in the sand from behind.

“Well, now that I’m not having to focus on not falling over… how’ve you really been?”

Diego stared wistfully out to sea, all the while playing with a little lock of his hair that Varyyn had braided for him. “’How have I really been’ as in not the brush-off, ‘oh, I’m good’ answer?”

“Yep. And I promise I’ll keep my own bullshit in check as fair trade.”

“Okay. If that’s how we’re doing this.” Diego fiddled with his hair for a little while longer as he contemplated his answer… and where to start. “I’m good.” As Taylor rolled her eyes, he added quickly; “ I am good.”

“Yeah?”

“Going back home was the best thing I could have done; it made me realise just how much I actually belong here. I’ve found my people. And Varyyn. I don’t have to tell you how cut up I was to be away from him; you could see it. Heck, even Grandma Bhandarkar saw it-- I have never been force-fed so much in my life, and I grew up with my abuela!”

Taylor chuckled. She was eternally grateful that the extended Catalyst family had been there for Diego when she couldn’t be, through one of the most pivotal periods in his life. “Did you… did you manage to talk to your parents at all?” she ventured gently.

With a sad smile, Diego shook his head. “I called from Raj’s place. I did speak to my dad, and honestly it was better than I expected. But he said Mom’s not ready.”

“Oh, Diego….”

“No, I knew she wouldn’t be ready.” He gave a little sigh. “That big, scary conversation’s done now, though, and I feel kind of… lighter. Like… I can start to accept how things are. If Mom and Dad were ever going to accept who I am, you’d think the year and a half I’d disappeared off the face of the earth would have done the trick.”

Taylor put an arm around Diego as he sniffed. “You know it’s all them, yeah? None of this is on you.”

“Yeah… I know. I came back here and… Varyyn just looked at me like I was the most beautiful person in the world. I could not have felt more loved. So, yeah-- I’m good.”

“So,” Taylor said gently, “what happens next? Do you still want to come back to Hartfeld with us in September?”

Diego huffed out a long exhale. Now, that was a question.

“The only really honest answer I can give you is… I don’t know. Could not be more conflicted.”

“That’s… that’s fair.”

“I keep thinking about that vision we saw when I took my action figures from Vaanu.  I didn’t think it was possible for me to be that comfortable in my own skin, but it wasn’t like I was just seeing it-- I could feel it.”

“Yeah. It was kind of, just… radiating off you. You were just one-hundred percent genuine Diego, no holes barred… and everyone just loved you for it.”

“Look, I know that whole thing was just Vaanu trying to manipulate you into sacrificing youself--”

“Diego--”

“No, it’s okay. Because even if that’s all it was, it doesn’t matter. The more time I’m here with Varyyn… and people are respecting me as me-- you should see the queues of kids that form when I re-tell the original Star Wars trilogy….”

Taylor chuckled fondly.

“...The more I realise that, actually, that could be me. If I wanted it.”

“That really could be you. Without a shadow of a doubt. It would just mean…”

“Leaving Varyyn? Shattering both our hearts into a million pieces? Yeah, that’s the sticking point.”

Putting her head on Diego’s shoulder, Taylor offered what support she could. “What… what does he think?”

“He really loves me, so he’s unhelpfully understanding about the whole thing. It would be so much easier to know what I should do if he’d just say he’d rather I stay here!”

“So inconsiderate.”

“But, well, he said how much I light up when I talk about what I saw in that vision. And he lights up when he talks about that,” Diego said with a resigned laugh. “He says if I stay here, I shouldn’t be giving up every part of me.”

“He’s right,” Taylor said. “It’s you he fell in love with, and it’s you the hordes of Vaanti children seek out whenever they need smiles put on their faces. One way or another, I think you should always feed the real you. ‘Cause that guy’s pretty great.”

Diego glanced away, bashful, but unable to hide his smile. Again, he started playing with his hair.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Taylor. How about it’s your turn. Do you have a plan? I guess Vaanu didn’t bother showing you what a future on Earth could look like, hey?”

Taylor gave a soft humph. “No, they certainly did not. That’s something I’m just going to have to figure out myself.” She frowned. “They just showed me enough to put the pressure of ensuring the happiness of everyone I love on my shoulders,” she said bitterly.

Catching her tone, Diego raised an eyebrow. “That’s really getting to you.”

“Yeah,” she heaved. For a moment, she considered what she wanted to share. “Look, I haven’t exactly talked about this before…. All those visions I saw, just about all of them showed you guys rocking your dream careers. Except for, well….” She trailed off, sadly.

“Except for Estela and Aleister, right? Now you mention it, that does kinda say a lot about the impact Rourke had.”

“Exactly. It makes me so… so angry,” she said, than added with a dry laugh, “I don’t have the energy to be angry. Seeing you all die in my dreams doesn’t help either; all I can think is that he did all that. ”

“So, you’ve put it out there now. Maybe that’ll help you move past it?”

“I sure hope so. Letting that fester isn’t going to be healthy for me, and it sure as hell won’t do Estela any favours. She’s been amazing. There’s been so much she’s had to move through. I think I’ve been so focused on her that it only just recently sank in how much I’m simmering in hate for that bastard. And I don’t want to let it out and feed into her own feelings. Does… that make sense?”

“That sounds pretty natural,” Diego assured. “Being protective of your family is pretty much wired into you; kinda makes sense that it would get you all fired up-- and that you want to shield Estela from even more hurt and anger. I’m here, you know. If ever you need a best friend to off-load on; I’m your man.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said softly, and boy, did she mean it. A little smile came to her face at the sound of Furball yipping as he chased a euphoric Fenix up and down the shoreline. Bad feelings passed quickly, for there was just too much beauty in the world she had fought for and won.  “All things considered, I’m doing really well. Since I ramped up the self-care, I’m getting less nightmares-- I know they’re not proper nightmares, it’s just my brain replaying memories that aren’t even all mine. But they’ve gotten better.”

Diego shook his head, incredulous. “Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to sleep with that going on at all.”

“With great difficulty is how,” Taylor laughed. “Poor Estela is now pretty used to me waking her up, screaming and crying.” She smiled softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without her; she has this magic way of just… chasing away all the horrors. I guess it’s because I feel safe when she’s holding me.”

“N’aww!” Diego’s eye twinkled. “I really am the best wingman around. I’ll happily accept tips for match-making services given.”

Taylor snorted. “I feel like we can take some of the credit, but fine, thanks for the help. I’ve seen hundreds of different versions of me and Estela falling in love… and it’s surprising how many times it was you who gave me the push.”

“So, you really do owe me one.”

“I really do.”

Fenix ran over, panting heavily, and flopped down into Taylor’s lap. A little way behind, Furball trotted after.

“Hey, Diego?”

“You’re missing your buff wife?”

“That, and I’m absolutely starving. You wanna head back to Catalyst Village?”

Diego looked out at the darkening sky. This day had flown. No doubt, the days to come would fly too, and in no time at all he’d be faced with leaving Varyyn… again. Then his stomach growled loudly.

“Apparently, you’re not the only one. Come on-- d’you need a piggy-back?”

Indignant, Taylor plopped Fenix down in the sand and got to her feet. “I certainly do not.”

“Okay… reframing that. Would you like a piggy-back?”

Ooh, that smirk. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “In the time it would’ve taken me to walk back, I’d have already died of hunger.”

So, they made their way back up the beach; Diego giving a more-weary-than-she’d-care-to-let-on Taylor… and their two furry companions leading the charge, drawn home by the scent on the wind of food being cooked over an open fire.

___________________________

“A toast!” Aleister pronounced loudly, holding aloft a glass of Breath of the Moon. As his friends and family around the fire raised their matching cocktails, he thrust his own glass ever-higher with slightly-tipsy gusto. “To new beginnings! To reuniting with comrades! To bringing about justice!”

Estela leaned over and whispered in Taylor’s ear. “You see why I thought you should only take a little sip of this stuff?”

Taylor sniggered. “I’d make a toast to the fact that we have a whole house to ourselves again.It’s gonna be a lot easier to get our sex on when your brother and sister-in-law aren’t in the next room.”

Giving her wife an exaggerated wink, Estela huddled closer, delighting in the giggle she stirred. Somehow, everything felt easier here. It was is if just to be in this place brought her back to the best of herself, to the sense of peace within herself that had once felt like an impossibility. Now, with Taylor, in their home and surrounded by people they loved, it was an inevitability. This time would refresh her-- it would them both-- and ready them for the greater steps that lay ahead.

It seemed the feeling was catching,for everyone was relaxed and laughing as they cooked skewers over the crackling fire and sipped their cocktails. In the firelight, Varyyn’s face seemed to glow with affection for his beloved husband beside him-- who himself was bubbling over with the simple pleasure of being surrounded by friends. Estela wondered about the two of them… what the future might hold. A year could go by so quickly-- she learned that the had way when she’d been counting down to Taylor’s self-sacrifice-- but away from the one you loved, time would stretch agonisingly. She did not envy the choice Diego was faced with; that they were now with him to offer support though that… that mattered.

Opposite them, Jake was back to ribbing Aleister, something even more fun now that the target was a little sozzled. No amount of back-and-forth teasing could hide the genuine --rather unlikely-- friendship that had formed; Aleister, blessed with both wealth and contacts in high places, had made himself a pivotal force in the fight to clear Jake’s name. The more Estela had gotten to know her unexpected sibling, the more it became obvious to her that at his heart, Aleister was driven by the same protectiveness of those dear to him that powered her. It was something, she’d come to realise, that Rourke had cemented into them both-- not through any passing of genes, but by fierce resistance to the poison he’d inflicted. It had taken time… and it had been painful, but in their budding kinship, Estela had found undeniable comfort.

Taylor took Estela’s hand, and laid a weary head on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Estela laughed softly. She could feel the smile on Taylor’s face; so open and radiant, full of tenderness for the people surrounding her, and it spoke wonders.

With her free hand, Taylor gently chinked her glass to Estela’s.

“Cheers. To being home.”

“To being home.”

[omg-baeyoung-baeran]

Maybe I Should Resign (Jumin/MC Oneshot)

Summary:

When your cringeworthy, cutesy cat-based post-its meant for your depressed friend are accidentally sent to your stone-hearted boss...take it as a sign to turn in your resignation letter.

o-o-o-o

It was mischievous and amusing, he admitted. The words written were always related to his current situation for some reason. Initially, it was odd and suspicious, but after it had given him comfort on several occasions, he had grown a little fond of the notes sent attached to his cup of coffee. 

Unless it was something related to cats, he was never the type to waste time, energy, or even money on something that did not involve the family and the company’s benefit; therefore, he never bothered finding the person behind it. He figured it was another scheme from someone who wanted to get ahold of his affection, so it was in his best interest to leave things be. The interaction went on for months, and the unknown person did not seem to have missed a single day doing the same task.

Impressive.

This mysterious person had persistence he would applaud of if he or she were not using it on something insignificant.

“Make efforts for yourself too because you are worth it!” The sticky note was purple this time.

That day, he bought himself a cat mug and was delighted by it.

Is this what commoners mean by “reward yourself”?

The first time the note made him frown deeply was when his father was involved with another woman, though the message was not the reason why he had made such a face. He wondered once again who the person might be behind the notes. Is it a woman who has the same intentions like his father’s passing lovers? Is it a man who is sucking up for a promotion? 

He had asked Jaehee before who had been preparing his coffee lately, since he had her retire from the task to handle more important matters at hand.

“It’s the chef’s son who prepares the coffee for the executives, Mr. Han.”

“He is not an employee.”

“Yes, but he volunteered to work without pay to help his father fulfill his duties without problems. I have offered to raise the concern to you, Mr. Han, but he refused.”

He hummed, raising his hand to his chin in thought. “Make him sign a contract and ensure his pay is more than sufficient to compensate for the days he did not get paid.”

Jaehee nodded and reconfirmed, “We will need to help him get a lawyer for the contract. The chef has mentioned before that his son is illiterate, so I will be contacting Mr. Joyou for recommendations.”

For a brief second, his eyes flashed in confusion. “Are you sure his son is illiterate?”  

He received the third report the next day, proving that the chef’s son was indeed illiterate.

From mysterious messages, it went down south to suspicious messages.

Fortunately, nothing other than passing one-sided notes was happening. The messages were innocent and can sometimes be helpful, thus there was no need to be alarmed.

“Meow~ a kitty a day keeps the purrblem paway!”

It can sometimes be… cute… he begrudgingly confessed. 

That was the first time it made him smile and his heart flutter.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

It was a huge mistake.

All this time, she was digging her own grave, and she had no idea she had dug deep enough to be a knock away from entering the gates of hell. She had been writing him notes to cheer him up and, perhaps, brighten up his troubled days. Pretending to be a maid to gather information unavailable online from a huge company seemed to be a huge hassle. He was tasked to do it for months too; hence, she made sure he wouldn’t get too lonely.

She wrote him notes—which she thought might help him smile—and stuck them on the cup of coffee he would serve for the employees. He never mentioned anything about it whenever they got the chance to chat. It was a bit disappointing, but her little help appeared to be working well. He seemed genuinely happy, and that was the only thing that mattered.

That was until she got a response in the form of a cat-shaped baby blue sticky note.

The coffee area was empty early in the morning. Most employees were yet to arrive, but the tray holding the cup where she usually stuck her messages already had a sticky note attached to it. Her lips touched the rim of the mug, her own sweetened coffee warming her cold lips.

Oh? A response? I wasn’t expecting that….

She took the note, flipping it around to inspect it.

Cat-shaped? Aw, so cute! Seven really loves cats. 

Her eyes scanned the message written.

“Write something about cats today.”

Huh? Wait, hold on, something’s wrong here.

She felt the heavy feeling of dread fill her stomach as she analyzed the piece of paper in her hand. Her mother had always jokingly called her “stupid” when she was in her teens, but she never believed it was true until she actually gave evidences to such hypothesis. Her joke was probably not a half-meant joke but a prediction of what she would become in the near future.

One thing she was certain of….

This is totally not his penmanship.

She had known Seven for years and was one of his closest friends. He would even take her out at random times to get ice cream even when his schedule was loaded. They would write on receipts and draw doodles of whatever came into their imagination. His penmanship was not necessarily messy but it carried its own charm.

This, on the other hand, looked too elegant to be his.

“Umm… good morning, Ma’am,” greeted a young man with brown hair and light brown eyes.

She forced a smile, tucking the note into her skirt’s pocket. “Good morning! Are you gonna grab a coffee?”

“Oh! Umm… no… haha! I am more of a tea person, though I make coffee for the executives.” His laugh sounded awkward, but she thought he looked like a nice guy. “Please do excuse me,” he muttered before passing in front of her, grabbing the tray where the cup with the note was placed.

The coffee she drank nearly burst out of her nose when she choked.

“Miss?” the boy questioned in a low voice, albeit slightly alarmed, “Are you okay?”

Her laugh can sound as fake as it was, but her petrified mind was too horrified to function.

“Ohohoho! I am fine! Nothing to worry about!” she beamed between coughs.

Later that day, Jumin did not get his daily note.

He tried to deny it the best he could, but it was just too evident.

It was the first time it made him upset.

Just a little bit.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

When a week came without a single note from the mysterious messenger, he started to feel unusual. It may be childish of him, but because he had learned to like it, it brought him disappointment to find a typical cup of coffee served in front of him. Perhaps it was from the fact that he forcefully abandoned his childhood before that his childhood spirit came back to bite him now.

Each morning, it got him curious of what secret message he would receive for the day. Will it be another joke? Another cat pun? He learned to find excitement in the short letters and “freebies” that came with it. Once, he got a stamp, and it caused him to raise a single brow.

“What is this?” he asked the chef’s son while he studied the white cat stamp between his fingers.

The chef’s son cocked his head to the side. “I do not have a clue, Mr. Han. I just found it on the tray next to your cup. I assumed it was something important and someone wanted to send it to you.”

It was nothing expensive, yet he kept it displayed on his table.

That was weeks ago… and he missed it.

Again, just a little bit.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

The gossip which greeted her ears the moment she entered the office mortified her beyond belief. Apparently, the heir of the C&R International company had asked if anyone knew of someone who was courageous enough to leave “memos” on his cup of coffee. He worded it terribly, as though it was a violation of the company’s rules and regulation, so it was not a surprise people made a huge deal out of it.

I’m leaving this company. I will never rise from the ashes of my shame and humiliation. Surely, Mr. Trust Fund Kid will know immediately if he’s ever free to check the cctv footage.

With a silent battle cry, she filed her resignation a day later…

and just her luck, a secret agent had successfully stolen quite an important document from the CEO the very same day.

“You are relieved from your mission, Agent 707.”

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

“Are you sure you did not misplace it, Father?”

Three people stood inside the CCTV control room. They were surrounded by more than 20 monitors that were flashing previous clips from the past weeks.

“I am sure without a single doubt that I kept it hidden in drawer 7.”

Dark, calculating orbs scrutinized the video. It was the last clip they were reviewing, and it was where the chairman can be last seen holding the documents prior leaving it in drawer 7.

“How can it disappear when no one has entered Father’s room? Have you double checked the system if anything’s amiss?”

He patiently waited for a response while the control manager worked on the system check—his eyes drifting back to the multiple clips they were previously analyzing.

There was Yeonwa chatting with Jaehee...

Jaewoo bringing in three boxes of pizza...

Helena bumping into Chong—

He frowned.

“August 6, 2018” was coded on the top right corner of the screen. If he was not mistaken, the company suspended all works that day to celebrate their successful purchase of Grace Cup Store.

So why are there employees working?

“Mr. Han,” the male manager cut off, “I believe the entire footage was placed in a loop since March using videos back in 2016.”

“Since… March?” He racked his brain for any memory that happened back in March. There were international events, meetings, partnership requests….

“Surprises will start today~ I’ll make sure you’ll enjoy it.^^”

Now that he recalled, he was pretty sure the notes started back in March.

o-o-o-o

Soooo this is meant to be an open-ended oneshot, but we MAY post a second chapter (emphasis on “may”)

[q-gorgeous]

Home

fanfiction

based on the animatic idea i had for this song

Warnings: injury, character death

i still dont know why the page break is gone does anyone know

Dash stared at the boy in front of him. He didn’t know Dash was behind him but Dash was gaping at the twerp.

Danny Fenton was over there facing a ghost.

He was fucking staring it down and exchanging banter. 

Dash was floored as he watched, jaw dropped, as Danny casually sauntered right up to the ghost. 

The fuck does Fenton think he’s doing? Danny laughed at something he said and before Dash knew it the ghost was throwing an ectoblast right at the boy. He jumped and rolled to the side so quickly that Dash’s jaw was nearly unhinged now. 

And then something happened that Dash couldn’t explain. No matter how hard he racked his mind over it, he couldn’t come up with a conceivable explanation. 

Two blinding white rings formed around Danny’s waist, floating away from one another as they passed his chest, his hands, his head. Until left standing there was Phantom. The Danny Phantom. 

Dash looked like a fish now, mouth opening and closing as Phantom-Danny- rushed head first towards the ghost, hand charged up with radioactive ectoplasm. 

Fists flew, debris rained down, and soon Danny was sucking the ghost into that little thermos he always seemed to have. Floating there, Danny had a smirk on his face and he began to turn around. When he met Dash’s horrified and shocked gaze, his own eyes filled with fear. Danny’s eyebrows drew down though and he floated over to Dash who scooted away. 

Dash could see Danny’s mouth moving but he couldn’t hear anything. The sound of his heartbeat rushed through his ears and his chest heaved up and down too quickly. 

A hand softly landed on his shoulder and Dash looked up into Danny’s green eyes. His white hair stood on end, sticking up messily. Now that Dash had seen he could clearly see Danny in Phantom now. He was wearing a jumpsuit for fucks sake. 

Dash took in a deep breath and shakily spoke. 

“Change back.”

The whisper was airy and Dash could still feel himself shaking and breathing too fast but he got it out. 

Danny’s brows furrowed again. “Dash, do you want me to take you home? It’d only take-”

“No! Change back!” Dash spit back.

Danny jumped at the tone, but did as he was asked. The rings appeared again and Dash jerked his arm away from them before they could touch him. Before him was a totally normal, dweebish looking Danny Fenton. 

“Are you dead?" Dash asked, voice barely above a whisper. “How is this possible? You can’t be both alive and dead.” Dash’s face went slack and his eyes widened. “Am I dead? Am I imagining all of this in my last seven minutes of brain activity?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Dash, no-”

“I’m not ready to die!” Dash wailed. “Is this the karma I get? To be left in purgatory until the end of time being tormented by both my hero and the kid I wailed on everyday?”

Suddenly Danny’s hands were both on Dash’s shoulders shaking him. The smaller boy leaned forward until their faces were only a few inches apart.

“Dash! You’re not dead!” Danny huffed out a small breath, hanging his head. “You just saw something you weren’t supposed to.”

Dash’s eyes widened at that again. “Are you gonna kill me?”

Danny groaned. “Dash, no. It’s just… There are people that if they knew this secret they’d want to kill me. The GIW, The Red Huntress. My parents.” His voice trailed off on the last word. 

“Your parents don’t know?” Dash whispered in horror. 

Danny snorted softly. “Are you kidding? Who knows what they’d do if they found out their son was public enemy number one. They could kill me, dissect me, try to expunge the ghost overshadowing me. Tear me apart molecule by molecule.”

Silence reigned between them before Dash spoke again. 

“Does anyone know?”

Danny nodded. “Sam and Tucker have known the whole time. Jazz found out on her own. All the ghosts know. For some reason.” He scrunched his nose at that. He groaned and leaned away from Dash, resting against the car the jock had been hiding behind during the fight.

“How did it happen?” Dash asked quietly. He had calmed down most of the way but he was still having the shakes. He looked at Danny who had his eyes closed, eyebrows drawn down.

“Accident with the ghost portal. I accidentally turned it on and it electrocuted me while I was inside it. It’s why I missed the first two weeks of freshman year.”

“Man..” Dash looked at the rubble on the ground in front of them. “That sucks.”

Danny snorted. “Tell me about it.”

They sat there in silence for awhile before Danny groaned again and started to stand up. 

“I gotta get going. I have chores and homework I need to do.”

Dash stood up shakily, leaning against the car once he was on his feet. 

“Do you want me to fly you home?”

His head shot up at Danny’s question and he saw the other boy rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I just thought because you’re still shaking that maybe- I don’t know how long it’d take you- another ghost could-”

Dash let out a chuckle at the boy’s nervous stammering. “Sure why not.”

Those rings appeared yet again and something clenched in Dash’s stomach. It wasn’t nearly as terrifying this time around. 

Danny picked Dash up off the ground and leapt into the air, going about the speed as a car would normally be driving down one of these roads.

They finally made it to Dash’s house and Danny flew in through the wall to his room. Danny’s tail turned back into legs and he touched down on the floor before placing Dash back on his own feet. 

“You gonna be okay?” Danny asked as he started turning back to the wall they just flew through. 

“Yeah. Are you gonna be okay?”

Shrugging, Danny cracked a smile. 

“As okay as a dead kid can be.”

He waved and floated through the wall, leaving Dash alone. 

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQ

“Danny!” Dash screamed. He ran between crumbled buildings and bent cars. “Danny!”

The ghost boy wasn’t anywhere in sight, not that that really mattered but it scared Dash. They’d all been at school when the guys in white smashed through walls and dropped through the ceiling.

English class with Lancer. 

Dash held his chin in his hand, looking boredly down at his notebook where he was doodling circles instead of taking notes. He looked up at Danny who was sitting in front of him to the left, barely keeping his head up off his desk. 

Mr. Lancer was droning on about some sort of poetry when the outside walls burst into the classroom, the ceiling falling apart above them. 

“Of Mice and Men!” Lancer exclaimed while students shouted and covered their heads as debris fell around them. 

As the dust cleared Dash could make out boulders of men, their white suits still immaculate of dust or dirt, all pointing their weapons at Danny. 

“Danny Fenton,” one started, “Under the Ecto-Containment Bill, section D paragraph one, you are hereby arrested for harboring a ghostly fugitive.”

“What?!” Danny exclaimed. “Why would I be harboring a ghost fugitive?” “The reasons are unknown. What we have gathered is that Phantom is taking up residence within you and either you are completely fooled, or you allow his presence.”

The blood drained from Danny’s face and Dash’s eyes widened. 

“Phantom? How would I be harboring Phantom? We’ve never even been seen in the same place before! How could I have met him?” Danny asked nervously. He eyed an agent as he took a tool from his pocket, pointing it at Danny who flinched. 

“Level 9 specter. We’ve been tracking Phantom’s ecto-signature for weeks. But if you’ve never been seen together before then…”

One by one the agents raised their weapons and pointed them at Danny. They came to life, the whirring filling the otherwise quiet classroom. The first shot was fired and students could be heard screaming as Danny ducked and rolled across the floor. 

Another blast was shot towards him and nearly clipped his arm.

“Go!” Dash shouted. He ran towards Danny, blocking the agents aim. 

“Dash!” Danny hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Buying you time. Now get out of here.”

Dash turned his head back towards the agent who fired the first shot at Danny. Running forward, he tackled the man to the ground, managing to knock the gun out of his hands. The other agents let out exclamations as they tried to pull him off the bastard. 

“The Fenton kid is gone!” 

At this, Dash was thrown to the side, forgotten, as the agents ran from the school, piling into vans or equipping their flight inventions. Once the area was clear, Dash sprinted from the building, ignoring the cries of Lancer and his classmates. 

“Danny!” Dash yelled again. His eyes were starting to well up and his breathing was getting faster. If he didn’t find Danny soon he’d be too panicked to continue looking for him. 

Suddenly, Dash felt a hand around his wrist pull him into one of the buildings the GIW had crashed through. Dash turned around and couldn’t help the sob that left his throat. 

He threw his arms around Danny, pulling him close against his chest. 

“I thought they got you!” He whispered. 

Danny shook his head. “They’ve got my ecto-signature, I won’t be able to hide from them for long here. I need to leave.”

“Leave where? Where could you possibly go?”

“Australia? The ghost zone? Hell, I might even actually need Vlad’s help this time.”

“But-”

Dash was interrupted as another hole was smashed into the building they were hiding in. 

There stood at least fifteen GIW, all armed, all aiming at Dash and Danny as they stood there. Guns began whirring and the two of them started backing towards the wall. 

“You’re surrounded, Phantom. There’s no escaping this time.” The agent barked. 

“What do you even need him for?!” Dash yelled. “He’s done nothing but good for this town!”

“He needs to be disposed of.”

The way the agent said it was so cold it sent ice down Dash’s spine. 

“What?”

“Whatever this child is shouldn’t exist. His power increases faster than any other specter and it would be unwise to leave it in the hands of a mere teenager. He must be exterminated.”

Dash gaped. “This is a kid you’re talking about! A living, breathing kid! That’s murder!”

“There are no laws protecting ectoplasmic organisms. They are supposed to be dealt with and disposed of.”

Dash’s vision swam with red. He stormed towards the agent, preparing to strike the snake’s face with his fist. 

Something shot into his stomach. It threw him into the ground and as his vision tilted he touched the aching, burning spot on his abdomen, lifting his hand to see it slick with blood. 

After that everything felt like it was happening outside a fish bowl that he was lying in. The sounds around him were muted. He vaguely registered Danny yelling. The glowing shield now surrounding Dash. Danny screaming. It all felt like it lasted a lifetime and a second all at the same time. 

Someone was shaking Dash’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. He turned his heavy gaze towards the figure-Danny-above him. He could make out the GIW agents scattered on the ground in front of them, the tears on Danny’s face. 

“Dash?” He could finally hear his name being spoken. Danny’s voice was filled with raw panic and Dash knew. He knew it wasn’t good. 

“Danny…” Dash whispered. He began to cough, a copper taste filling his mouth and over Danny’s shoulder he saw a hazy light blurring the broken building. 

“I’m not gonna… Not gonna make it.” Dash said shakily. 

A sob pushed its way out of Danny’s throat and tears streamed down his face faster. “No Dash, you gotta hold on. I’ll get you to a hospital and they can-”

“Danny-” Dash’s breath hitched as he placed his hand on top of Danny’s. “I can already- already see it. I’m not gonna make it to a hospital.”

Danny leaned down and pressed his forehead against Dash’s, his tears dripping onto the other boy’s face. 

“Go to- go to Australia. Or the ghost zone, Danny. Please. Get somewhere safe.”

Danny lifted his gaze to look into Dash’s unfocused blue eyes. His breathing picked up and Danny took his free hand and ran it through Dash’s hair until the erratic breaths stopped. 

Dash was standing above Danny and his body, watched as Danny leaned over onto his chest and sobbed. 

Dash took one last look at Danny and turned to walk towards the hazy light, leaving Danny alone.

[denjispinalcordsword]

Thank u to @exosbaeks for tagging me!! this was so cute! i discovered that like.....i did not bold many of these 😂😂 i felt terrible some of these only have 1 or 2!!! how!! but anyway i gave it a good go

i’m not gonna tag anyone tonight but if anyone wants to do this it’s a cute challenge lol and madeleine i liked going through our answers and seeing which were the same and different :D

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

soft

baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night

dark academia

neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story

edgy

closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks

seventies

colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | diy-ing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants| likes to go roller skating or skateboarding

preppy casual

collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

cinanamon - steph

gold jewelry, slowdancing in the kitchen with a lover, sun on skin, red-tinted lip balm, lazy mornings, getting lost in foreign cities, scent of bakeries, high-waisted jeans, kissing someone’s neck, writing reminders on your wrist, sleeping in braids to have waves in the morning, growing an herb garden, gentle touches, sketches tucked between pages, flushed cheeks, tandem bikes, floating in a pool, vintage gold hand-mirror, deer grazing, softly singing while doing chores

jaesmintea - dia

oversized everything | painted nails | fairy lights | dozing off in the middle of class | tying hair up into a ponytail | round glasses | laughing so hard you can’t breathe | late night study sessions | tender hand holding | impromptu photoshoots | drowning in moondust | bathing in the light of the sunset | strawberry flavored lollipops | polaroid pictures | eagerly tugging someone down the street | handwritten love letters | smell of coffee | living with reckless abandon | crinkled pages of a journal | replaying the same part in a song over and over

naptimetea - helena

everything black | rewearing your favorite outfit | drawing late into the night | rewatching favorite shows | the bread isle | minty lip balm | falling asleep anywhere and everywhere | making green tea | useless questions when it’s 2 am | forehead kisses | sleeping in till the afternoon | love of pink | staying up to watch the sunrise | dancing in the bathroom | messy handwriting | pile of sketchbooks | talking for hours about interest | old sentimental stuff animals | hanging out on the bed and doing nothing | thick fluffy blankets

jeonginks

the thrill of leaning your body way over a balcony’s edge | the suffocating feeling when the strong wind blows down your lungs | tip-toeing barefoot | hair ruffling and cheek pinching | hugging a body pillow at night | facing the sky with closed eyes | the whimsical silence when it’s past midnight and you’re the only person awake | when you can physically feel your eyes soften when you look at someone | dancing alone with only an oversized shirt | when your sweater falls over your thighs as you stand up | humming scary but memorable lullabies | vivid imagination | w-sitting with a mini skirt and thigh high socks | heated laptop on your lap | cereal at 3 am | gliding your fingers across your thighs | bittersweet melancholy | withdrawn and distant eyes | very tight belts | wanting love but not believing in it | not cruel but not kind

scxrlettwxtches

listening to a song and remembering the times you used to listen to it on repeat | imagining yourself living in any other life than the one you have now | crop tops and high waisted jeans | forgetting to smile but not actually being upset | nuzzling your face in the crook of their neck | back hugs when you’re stressed | turning in assignments 1 minute before they’re due | wanting a relationship but getting scared the moment you’re in one | pretending that you don’t care when inside you’re burning with doubts and fears | the sound of the evening waves as you lie on the sand | lying in your bed listening to your sad playlist | exhaustion but you can’t sleep | singing loudly when you’re the only one home | feeling safe and comfortable with that person in your life | knee high suede black boots with your black winter coat | comfort over appearance | writing essays at 2 am | creative peak from 1 am to 4 am | the one that always ends up walking in the back of a friend group

hyunsracha - sav!

split-dye hair | female rappers | staying up until 6am and sleeping until 1pm | taking notes on an ipad | middle school emo music | mini skirts | late night drives | rain on the ocean | flirting with people when you’re bored | doc martens | eating ramen in the pot | afraid of being looked at | fishnets | getting joy out of making people laugh | small tattoos | crying yourself to sleep | peppermint everything | desperate for freedom | chipped black nail polish

lveletters

well-worn converse | ginger ice cream | farmers’ markets | amaretto in coffee | the sound of pen on paper | empty mountain trails | black and white photographs | vintage bicycles | roads trips with no destination | overfilled bookcases | a shoebox full of ticket stubs | granny smith apples | orange gerbera daisies | cardigan sweaters | games that tell a story | red wine in a mason jar | succulent gardens | tattoos of birds | fresh-baked muffins | a favorite pair of jeans

dnceracha - sydni

black chelsea boots | chapped lips | browline glasses | losing yourself in video games | impressionist art | pink peonies | writing down anything you need to remember | the smell of gasoline | business goth style | dangly earrings | florals | ballet flats | cuffed jeans | liking the villain | a stack of journals | generous amounts of highlighter | knives | rain on a tin roof | heavy footsteps | small-town diners |

exosbaeks

large mug collections | making playlists for every mood and occasion | the color and the scent of lavender | every shade of blue | red wine and chocolate | dark red lipstick | people watching from a café terrasse | a stack of half-read books by the bed | early morning flights | passport stamps | the french language | leather jackets | eucalyptus-scented candles | séyès ruled paper and fountain pens | boxes filled with mementos | 80s music | wanting to learn every language | sweater weather | big winter coats | hot drinks and warm blankets on cold rainy days

joohoneyonehunnit (leila)

meticulously detailed nail art | everything is purple | repeating a joke to death til its not funny | piles of clean laundry in the basket | treasured keepsakes displayed on your desk | heavy sleeper | baby powder scent | many alarms to wake up | pastel wardrobe | nutella on toast | hair bows and baubles | high waisted shorts | rows of stuffed animals | 5 emergency bags of candy | holding your cat in your arms | fanny packs and cross-body bags | detailed daydream stories | unused journals and planners | watching the ocean on the deck of a ferry

[diminie-s-tokki]

omg… dunno… this is not proof read, it’s past 1 am and i’m too tired to thoroughly  think about this, i’m gonna regert thia tomorrow. buuuut… here’s my kinda ghost au. more like i-see-ghosts-and-i-m-a-nerd-and-i-have-the-biggest-of-the-crushes-on-you-and-my-ghost-friends-already-ship-us-together- au 

-You should approach him. You know… it’s a possibility, it could work.- she paused briefly, he knew she was observing him but Jimin didn’t let that bother him too much, focusing on the blank page staring back at him, the dim light working against him.

 -At least it did back in my times.- she then added, lowly, like it was just an afterthought, left there, hanging in the air between the two of them.

 Jimin didn’t even spare her a look, too busy with the chaos of his own notes, trying to decipher what they were originally supposed to be, but that task revealed itself to be harder than the human had previously believed to be. 

It had felt like a good enough idea that morning, going to the library in the evening and trying to be a productive member of the society. Apparently, that wasn’t his thing because he had been sitting, more like crouching, in a poorly lit corner of the library for hours now, carefully hidden by several rows of shelves, back pressed against a wall and legs bent, so far from everyone else that the sounds of the chattering struggled to reach him, and nothing had came out of that. 

Nothing that wasn't a familiar ache pressing at his temples and the growing irritation, oh and… yeah… few funny looking… flowers, he wasn’t really sure about that one, doodled at the bottom of the white page of his new notebook. 

-Com’on Jiminie, it pains my heart to see you pining like this.- her voice resounded truly concerned to his hears and he knew Hayi meant well, she was a kind soul after all and had been by his side for long enough to know the boy better than anyone else, but she what she was and Jimin knew that there were some things she simply couldn't understand. Like the never spoken rule to not mingle with people that were obviously out of one’s league. 

Jimin knew it sounded really bad, and to date he hadn’t found the right words to explain her how it worked, but he knew that it was never going to work her way. 

He was a simple, anonymous nerd, nothing special. 

Nothing someone from another department, a way cooler one, could find interest in.

-You’re just going to keep ignoring me like that?- the boy had the decency to smile sheepishly at her, he was sure that back to her times she was a presence no one would’ve ever dared to ignore, he was sure she had been blessed with the loveliest features even back then. 

The human felt sorry for no being an entertaining company for her at the moment, but Jimin wasn’t really feeling like talking, breaking the silence that had found its place around them, and then maybe gain someone’s attention. 

That surely wasn’t something he was willing to go through, he hated the embarrassed smiles and weird looks. 

Jimin got it, of course he did, to anyone else he would appear like carrying on a conversation with himself, which was just too much to handle for the majority of the population.

 It was no one’s fault that lost souls were able to be heard by him. It was no one’s fault, just something he had learned to deal with along the way. 

Hayi huffed loudly by his side, she was sitting graciously with her legs bent and hands smothering the folds of her wearings, the gree of the wonsam jarred strongly with the penumbra surrounding them, the color was bright as if it didn’t need light to be seen, always there, vivid and eternal, Jimin’s eyes fell on her chest, there were a dark stain painted the silk crimson.

The human felt a knot tying his throat, just like every other time, he couldn’t have the certainty of why Hayi was wearing a wonsam when she had died, but something always clenched his chest and made it hard to breathe, a pain that wasn’t his blooming in his chest, sharp and burning.

-Jimin…- this time he looked up at her, gladly welcoming the distraction from his saddening thoughts and then gave up on his notes, closed the notebook with a quick move and threw his pencils and everything in the gray bag he had tossed not far from where he was sitting.

When everything had been putted away he rose his gaze to her, smiling softly, encouraging her to keep going with whatever it was she wanted to tell him.

-I know there are things i don’t quite understand. But there are also things that you don’t quite understand.- he was still looking at her and he found himself smiling, she was right, they both knew, but that was something beyond his control.

There were always going to be things he wouldn’t understand.

Clapping his hands on his knees he got up, taking his bag from the ground and waiting for Hayi to follow him through the shelves. His mind already travelling to the path that was going to take him, them, home.

They were nearing the more crowded area of the big library when the soul started humming a melody, something low and sweet that made something warm bloom in the boy. It reminded him the lullabies his mother sang him, when he was scared and didn’t know who those people following him where. His mother had always been the only one believing him, comforting the scared kid until he had learned to not fear the unknown, learned how to face and welcome it. 

Jimin turned his head before turning a corner, smiling at her thankfully, knowing she was doing that on purpose, to soothe his mind, she knew it was starting to change into a dangerous trap, just like it always did when it came to face people, strangers that made up a far scarier entity than the ghosts.

It worked, Jimin let the tune lull him and distract his worrying mind, following the rhythmical sound he turned to face the main hall of the library, his eyes scanning the space automatically, before he could even order them not to. 

It was a circular space surrounded by high shelves, the colorful covers of the books greeting him. Few people were there, Jimin assumed it had gotten later that he had originally thought, the chatter was no longer filling the air, and the boy allowed himself to walk through the narrow space among desks, deeming it safe enough. There was no need to hide himself among the darker corridors once again.

Hayi was still humming behingìd him, following him, having his back, he knew that she was still there, yet the urge to turn became too hard to fight, the discomfort growing in him, the need to make sure that she was there pushed him to turn. 

Jimin let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the green silks of her clothes were as bright as always, the raven hair shining under the light, she felt so real, alive, to him. The boy wished he could reach out and take her hand, to feel her.

He was turning to face ahead once more when his thigh hit something, a hiss left his lips before he could hold it back.  Jimin could feel the flames rising to his cheeks, the blood rushing and blooming crimson. Something fell on the ground with a loud thump, it echoed in the library, mockingly spreading the aftermaths of his clumsiness.

Jimin stopped, feeling like frozen, unable to move. 

Thousands of words rushing in his mind but none making it through his throat, past the barrier of his mouth.

It wasn’t his fault though, there were two dark holes looking back at him, and like all the black holes those ones mercilessly took everything in, forcing Jimin to drown in them and get lost. The boy could only feel the loud beats of his hears, it raced and was all his ears could hear, for a second he feared the sound could’ve been echoing in the library just like the sound of the falling book, exposing him to everyone else in there.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes from those dark holes, they were staring at him, claiming all his attention for themselves. 

What broke it was a discrete sound, a low clearing of throat coming from behind him, Hayi, probably. 

He didn’ t turn to check, blinking few times, shaking off whatever had fallen upon him.

Jimin lowered his gaze, too scared to get trapped again, and there it was, a thick red book, one of the corners of the rigid cover was slightly damaged and Jimin mentally apologised, foolishly hoping it hadn’t been his fault.

 Never letting his eyes leave the red cover he lowered to gather it, a shiver running down his spine as his fingers met the cold pavement. 

A part of him knew that he had to put the book on the desk, but another, stupid, part of him held it tight against his chest, forcing his eyes to rise and meet the other’s face.

Jungkook was staring at him and for some weird reason Jimin believed his eyes had never stopped observing him.

-I’m sorry.- the words didn’t feel like his own, he hadn't planned on saying anything, too scared to do so. But now Jungkook was politely smiling at him and Jimin could feel something in him… melt.

 -That’s alright.- he said, smile, somehow, never leaving his lips, voice deep and making Jimin want to just close his eyes and savour it. He knew it was weird, he did, but Jungkook’s voice had always had his heart and nothing could have been done for that.

They stared silently at each other without feeling the need to fix it, the silence felt good, peaceful, right. Jimin wished he could just sit and stay there, enjoy the coming night in the other’s presence.

Jungkook broke it after long moments.

-You gonna take that one?- 

Jimin didn’t understand what he meant by that, his eyebrows furrowing before he noticed where Jungkook’s eyes had fallen on. 

It was his chest, or better, the red thick book he was firmly holding against his sternum. 

Jimin could feel the red blossom on his cheeks once more, but he managed to shake his head no and hand it over to Jungkook, his eyes grasping a word before the book was out of his eyesight.

 Inferno. 

He looked for the meaning in his mind but nothing came and the confusion must’ve been evident on his face because he heard a low chuckle coming from Jungkook.

-That’s Dante’s Inferno. He described hell… I’d dare to say… very colorfully.- A smirk fell on his lips and Jimin felt his knees go weak, like they were made of watery jelly. 

That was the time to say something smart, he knew it, but his mind had gone blank all of sudden and nothing smart was to be found in there. So all that came out was a low ‘hmm’, which could’ve been interpreted in thousands of different ways.

 Jimin mentally facepalmed at his own stupidity.

-You know… it says there are only nine fractions, circles, in the hell, but that’s not actually true. There are way more parts it’s divided into, weird isn’t it?- Jimin couldn’t understand it, the reason behind Jungkook still talking to him, it was far beyond his comprehension, but greatly welcomed, it felt like a blessing, but also like some cruel joke.

He instinctively turned, looking for Hayi, for reassurance, but she was nowhere to be found. She… she had left him. Jimin could feel panic rise in him, but before it could take over Jungkook spoke again, saving him from his own mind and not even knowing it.

-I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear any of that.- he was wearing a cute embarrassed smile and Jimin found himself mirroring it and then, surprisingly, he spoke.

-What if I want to though?- 

And God. What those words brought him was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. 

Jungkook was smiling brightly at him, excitation shaping his features and eyes shining. They were no longer dark holes, but a starry sky shining back at him.

[cest-la-vieve]

Pins and Needles (Peter Parker x OFC)

Summary: A Peter Parker x OFC Soulmate!AU in which any injuries suffered by one person are also suffered by their soulmate. If someone absentmindedly doodles on their arm, doodles will randomly appear on their soulmate’s arm as well. Callie has dreamed her entire life of meeting her soulmate, even through the countless injuries they’ve suffered, but decides enough is enough. She wants to do something for herself this time.

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of sex, tattoo, needles, injuries

A/N: I haven’t written in years but decided to try to jump back into it with this! Please leave feedback, comments, questions, whatever!! Thank you guys and I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1467

The dull buzzing of the tattoo machine was all that filled the room as Callie took a deep breath and prepared herself for the pain. She knew that this probably wasn’t the smartest decision she had ever made, but she also knew it wasn’t the dumbest. Society did not smile fondly upon those who got permanently marked before meeting their soulmates, mostly because then their soulmate would be unable to consent to the tattoo. Of course, Callie’s soulmate, whoever they were, never seemed to have much regard for how their actions affected her, so why would she care about how this may (or may not) impact their life.

Her earliest memory of her soulmate’s misfortune goes back to when she was around 8 or 9 years old. She was sitting in her math class and her teacher, Mrs. Meyers, had been droning on and on for what seemed like years about something to do with fractions and simplification when all of a sudden she felt a searing pain spread across her forehead. Her tablemates had gasped in disgust as a purple and brown bruise slowly spread until it covered the majority of the left side of her forehead and dipped down to her cheekbone. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. Once she hit high school the injuries quickly escalated. Each week it was something different. A sprained wrist here, a broken rib there, but by far the worst injury was when she woke up in the middle of the night covered in blood. 

Her parents had rushed her to the hospital, where she had to get 17 stitches for a gash on the lower right side of her stomach. She was laid up for weeks and scarred forever, with nothing better to do than daydream about the trouble her soulmate was encountering quite often. She thought that maybe they had abusive parents but quickly ruled that out as she realized that the patterns and types of injuries didn’t fit. Then she thought that maybe they were just super clumsy, she herself was no stranger to the odd fall or stubbed toe, but this was happening far too often to be merely a collection of accidents. At first, she had been angry at this unknown person who was meant to be her greatest joy in life but instead was causing her so much pain. Yet, as she grew older, she realized that they had to have been experiencing all of these injuries too. As soon as she understood that, she was determined to meet this person and to care for them to the best of her ability. She’d patch them up and take every injury in stride because obviously they were not living the happiest life and it was her job to be there for them. 

From then on, each injury was simply a means to an end. A stepping stone in her journey to be the best soulmate and take care of them. A roadblock until they could comfort each other and maybe even stop the injuries altogether. All she had to do was suffer through them until she could be happy with the love of her life.

Her positive outlook on pain was very quickly demolished. A week before her 18th birthday she woke up covered in small bruises. She jumped up from her bed to look into the large mirror perched on her dresser and saw angry red scratch marks painting their way from the small of her back to her shoulders. The connection was made in her mind instantly: this son of a bitch had had sex. As taboo as getting a tattoo before meeting your soulmate was, having sex before meeting your soulmate was worse. 

For Callie, who had put up with God knows how many injuries for this person, this complete and utter betrayal shook her. She spent all week thinking about it. Every moment was spent picturing them with someone else. Heartbreak wasn’t even the way she would describe it. It was more like her heart was being torn from her chest while she was completely paralyzed, unable to do anything but feel the pain consuming her in one fell swoop.

Getting her tattoo was her small form of retaliation. She was finally 18 and legally allowed to enter a tattoo parlor and despite all of the disgusted glances thrown her way as she walked towards the only shop in town, she was excited.

Entering the shop, she was greeted with warm smiles and she breathed a sigh of relief, the small amount of hesitation she had immediately dissipating. She was ushered over to a couch and given a mug full of tea, being asked to wait a few minutes while the artist finished up with his customer. She gingerly sipped her tea and took the opportunity to look around the shop. Hundreds of sketches, both in color and in monochrome, littered the walls and counters. The drawings varied in size, some large enough to cover her torso and others just big enough to fit on the palm of her hand. 

Her favorite was an intricate portrait of a lion with an elegant crown neatly perched on its mane. Each hair looked like the utmost effort was used to draw it and she could almost hear the sound of its powerful roar as its jaw opened as wide as it possibly could. She spent a few more minutes letting her eyes wander over the countless photos and sketches before the tattoo artist, whose name she found out was Kyle, sat down on the opposite side of the couch and beamed at her.

“So, what brings you in?” He asked, leaning back with his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Oh well um. I, uh, wanted to see if I could get a tattoo.” She mumbled, ducking her head so her hair partially covered her face.

“Hey, don’t be nervous! I know it’s kind of an intimidating venue but we’re not here to judge. I am gonna need you to speak up though, after years of working with these machines my hearing isn’t exactly what it used to be,” he laughed.

Callie’s mouth broke into a small smile, she sat up straighter, and with a confident voice said, “I’m here to get a tattoo.”

Kyle smiled again and they talked for a long time about what kind of tattoo, where she wanted it, and why she was getting it. She finally settled on getting a small tattoo on the inside of her wrist, somewhere she could easily hide it and where it wouldn’t hurt as much. She moved over to Kyle’s chair and he put on some gloves and pulled out all of his supplies. He explained to her how he had to sterilize and clean the area then transfer the stencil onto her wrist. Callie just nodded and began to take deep breaths, her previous anxiety quickly returning as she realized just how real the moment was. With one last reassuring smile, Kyle set to work, using the red and blue ink to trace the design.

About an hour and a half later, it was done. It hadn’t been easy and she was sure that her soulmate was probably in a lot of distress at the moment, but that thought disappeared as quick as it had come once she remembered why she had gotten the tattoo in the first place. Kyle wiped off the excess ink and gently lifted her wrist so that she could see the finished product. Callie managed to hold in a squeal of joy and instead went for a gasp of awe as she looked down and admired the little red and blue outline of her favorite superhero’s mask on her wrist. She couldn’t be happier with the results, but a small nagging voice in the back of her head was wondering if it had the desired effect on her soul’s counterpart.

On the other side of New York, another young adult did not manage to contain his squeals quite as effectively as Callie had. In the middle of his biology class, he jumped out of his chair with a shout. As the entire class turned to look at him and the popular kids in the back snickered, he muttered an apology and sat back down, all the while doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone. The smallest bit of anger coursed through his veins as he pulled up the sleeve of his sweater to stare at the permanently inked Spider-Man mask on his wrist. Today had been a rough day for him to begin with, but one thing was for certain: Peter Parker was absolutely, positively not happy with his soulmate right now.

[ladylynse]

Happy birthday, @azthedragon​! Here’s a RC:9GN ficlet for you. Post S2. 

Roots: [FF | AO3] The Sorcerer is gone, but he left some roots behind. At least, that might be what First Ninja is trying to say. Randy’s not really sure.

Now that the Sorcerer was gone, things were actually pretty bruce. Randy didn’t have to worry about kids getting stanked anymore, and that cut out a lot of work. He had way more time to play all versions of Grave Puncher with Howard or hit the arcade, and he managed to complete more assignments than before.

McFist was still after him, but Randy wasn’t entirely sure why. They’d worked together against the Sorcerer. And without him trying to get free, McFist didn’t gain a whole lot by destroying the Ninja. That didn’t stop him and Viceroy from sending robots to the school, though—and a questionable new frozen yogurt machine that Randy would enjoy more if it didn’t have a warning sign printed on it. (To his knowledge, Debbie had written but not yet published something. He was willing to see where the chips fell on this one, especially since he knew how to reverse the process if anyone got monsterfied like Howard had from the soupsicles.)

Of course, McFist might be genuinely curious about his identity, like Debbie.

More likely, he thought he could gain something. Cut a deal with the Ninja, maybe, or figure out the secret to his longevity…. McFist seemed to have realized that the Ninja was a high school student, just like Debbie had, but he didn’t think either of them had figured out how it worked.

Whatever the reason behind McFist’s fervor, Randy was expecting a robot attack at any point, since it had been about a week since the last one and that was typically how quickly Viceroy managed to pull these guys together.

He was not really expecting to see the Nomicon flashing at him when he was about to go for lunch.

Howard didn’t miss it, either. He slammed his locker closed, locked it, and said, “It’s gravy cheese fries day, Cunningham. How can you miss it now that they finally added cheese to the gravy fries?”

“It probably won’t take long,” Randy said, but he couldn’t sound confident when he had no idea what the Nomicon wanted. “Can you grab mine?”

Howard let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But if you take too long, I cannot guarantee they’ll still be there.”

“Howard!”

“They aren’t good cold! It’s a crime to let them get cold. I can’t let you do that.”

Randy frowned. Maybe he could just ignore the Nomicon. He wasn’t convinced he could trust Howard. Sure, ignoring the Nomicon had been bad in the past, but how important could it be now that the Sorcerer was gone?

Almost as if it knew what he was thinking, the Nomicon started flashing faster.

Randy’s resolve wavered. “Maybe I’d better—”

“Yeah, fine, whatever, Cunningham. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Randy slung his bag back over his shoulder, barely taking the time to shut his locker before running off to the safety of the washroom. This shouldn’t take long. There was nothing vitally important. It should be able to wait until he was home from school. It should—

Randy opened the Nomicon and fell.

He wound up belly-flopping into a lake. It didn’t hurt as much as actual water would’ve, but he still came to the surface sputtering. There was no shore in sight, at least not right now, so Randy decided to tread water and wait. It shouldn’t be long, and he didn’t want to wind up swimming in the wrong direction.

At some point he blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, a boat was being poled towards him.

Warily, Randy put his feet down and realized it was now shallow enough to stand. Even after all this time, he wasn’t quite used to the shifting landscape within the Nomicon. Not when it came to things like this, anyway.

After another few seconds, Randy realized that the Ninja in the boat wasn’t the doodled Ninja he was used to seeing. It was First Ninja. In the—well, not the flesh, but…the ink? Whatever. It was First Ninja. Even after the Sorcerer’s defeat, Randy rarely saw him.

Maybe this was important.

“First Ninja?” he asked cautiously as the boat drew up alongside him. “Um. There’s no way I could take a rain check on this, is there? Y’see, I’m kinda missing gravy cheese fries right now, and Howard is not kidding when he says he’ll eat mine. This isn’t really a good time.”

First Ninja cocked his head at him. “The cherry tree cannot choose the timing of the seasons but must awaken and flower, fruit and sleep, as the cycles turn.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know anything about trees. And now’s just not good for me. So if this isn’t pressing, maybe we could do this after school’s out instead of during lunch.”

In response, First Ninja secured the pole, knelt, and reached an arm out to Randy. That obviously meant rescheduling wasn’t going to happen, so Randy gave in and took it. First Ninja pulled him up without any visible strain, which either spoke to his strength or Randy’s lack of a physical body. Was he made of ink while he was in here? He never looked doodled when he looked at himself, but—

First Ninja shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the deck, and Randy joined him. There had to be a more pressing matter than figuring out how the Nomicon worked. “So? What’s so important that I have to miss gravy cheese fries?”

“Knowledge is a greater weapon than—”

“Knowledge could wait till after lunch.”

“The Norisu Nine did not fight the Sorcerer alone,” First Ninja pointed out, “and—”

“I know, I know, watch out for the Sorceress. We’ve had this conversation. She hasn’t gone anywhere.” Randy paused. “She, uh, hasn’t gone anywhere, right?”

First Ninja shrugged. “Only what is looked for can be seen.”

“So that means you don’t know?”

A sigh. “Corruption is a poison that festers when unchecked, spreading as readily by resentment as by the hand of an enemy. If the roots are not removed, it will grow again.”

Randy stared at First Ninja, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He really needed to work on updating his speech patterns. This was hard. “But when the two halves of the Sorcerer merged, he disintegrated. Or something. He’s gone. There aren’t any more roots.”

First Ninja shook his head. “Not all that which exists can be easily seen.”

“But I know to watch for the Sorceress. What other roots are there?”

First Ninja just looked at him and waited.

Randy bit his lip. “Are you talking about loose ends? Like Booray? Because he technically knows who I am? Or because he’s using some kind of magic to enslave all those animals and he’s probably doing it again even after I wonked his first stuff?”

Now, First Ninja looked alarmed. “That which is seen cannot be unseen!” he hissed.

“I know, I know, and that which is known cannot be unknown. But after I accidentally sicced Booray on Ranginald Bagel, McFist is never gonna believe he actually knows who the Ninja is. I mean, really, if there are loose ends, then wouldn’t it be the fact that I deserve a new totally bruce sword after what I did?”

“A sword is only as strong as the Ninja who wields it.”

“So…two swords?”

First Ninja pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something. Then, slowly, painfully, “It would be…bruce…if you would address the roots left behind with McFist and this Booray, for the Ninja—you—must be prepared to battle any evil. The known enemy is not the only enemy. A single defeat does not ensure a won war. The Ninja who is careless will be the Ninja no more, and the legacy of the Nine will be lost.”

“Okay, it’s not like I’m going to lose the Ninja Mask or anything. I mean, not again. So chill, First Ninja. I got this. You want me to ransack Booray’s place and wonk up his creepy control magic? No problemo. But McFist just…makes Viceroy build more robots whenever I wonk their cheese. I’m kinda shoobed when it comes to that. Besides, it’s easy to beat those robots. Usually.”

First Ninja stared at him for a few long seconds before shaking his head. He reached over the side of the boat, scooped up a handful of water, and tossed it into the air. The water shimmered into steam, showing a ninja fighting off a multitude of animalistic monsters. The monsters came with increasing frequency, eventually overwhelming the Ninja, and the scene dissipated entirely.

First Ninja seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so Randy settled on the most important thing. “That is the cheese. You need to teach me how to manipulate things in here, First Ninja. Is that our real lesson for today? How to control the Nomicon?”

First Ninja sighed. “Small problems do not remain so.”

Oh. That’s what he meant. The monsters were supposed to be robots. It would’ve been better this had been a lesson to control the environment in the Nomicon, but whatever. Randy was willing to pick his battles and fight for this later. It would probably take a while, and he was still hopeful that he could actually get out in time to eat lunch.

Randy affected a hurt look. “I’m not ignoring them! I beat all the robots.”

First Ninja didn’t seem remotely fooled. Maybe Plop-Plop pulled the same trick. “The Ninja who is blind to the poison cannot stop its spread. That which is not looked for cannot be seen.”

This was starting to make his head hurt. “But I do see the robots. Viceroy only did the invisible thing once.”

“The puppet only dances if its strings are pulled.”

“So…cut the strings?” It probably wasn’t the answer. It was the obvious answer, so it wouldn’t be the one First Ninja actually wanted.

Sure enough, he shook his head.

And waited.

Of course.

Randy groaned and tried to piece together what First Ninja had talked about. He seemed happy to let Randy get rid of Booray’s mind control magic, so how was that different from taking out McFist’s robots? The robots were a more common problem for him and everyone else, so weren’t they the roots First Ninja was talking about?

The water around them was starting to writhe, roiling in a crosswind that hadn’t existed three breaths ago. Their boat spun suddenly, knocking Randy over, though First Ninja merely swayed with the motions. “What the juice, First Ninja?” It had been calm a moment ago, and First Ninja had already demonstrated how easily he could manipulate the world of the Nomicon.

“Sometimes pressure,” First Ninja replied as it started pelting rain from clouds that had only just formed, “can clear the mind.”

“Or make things worse!” squawked Randy, trying to find something to hold onto so he wasn’t thrown overboard.

“The answer is within,” First Ninja pointed out as the first wave broke over them. “If looked for, it will be seen.”

“That doesn’t help!” Randy sputtered, but then another wave crashed over them and he lost his grip and was swept into the lake.

He sat up, gasping for breath as the Nomicon swung shut in his lap. He couldn’t see any feet under any of the other stalls, so the bathroom was still empty. Thankfully. He got to his feet and shoved the Nomicon back into his bag. “You could be a little clearer,” he told it, but he got no response.

He washed his hands and ran to the cafeteria. Howard was sitting and their usual table, and Randy slid in beside him, making a grab for the remainder of his gray cheese fries even as he panted for breath.

Howard reached across and plucked another one from the basket anyway, even as Randy grabbed a handful. “What’d the Nomicon have to say?”

Randy shook his head, his mouth already full of deliciousness, and waved his hands instead.

“Nothing important,” Howard surmised.

Randy swallowed. “Something about McFist. And Booray. And poison roots and strings that can’t be cut.”

“So nothing important.”

Randy shoved another handful of fries into his mouth and shrugged.

“Well, it’s not like the Sorcerer’s around to stank people, anyway. Grave Puncher 10 after school?”

Randy crammed the last of the fries into his mouth and nodded.

Before he had a chance to lick his fingers clean, the screaming started.

Howard rolled his eyes as Randy jerked to his feet. “I know, I know, Ninja-o’-clock. That still sounds stupid. You should tell McFist to cut you some slack with the Sorcerer gone. What’s he want, anyway?”

“No idea.” Randy grabbed a napkin, mostly cleaned off his fingers, and then wiped the rest on his pants. “Cover for me if I’m not back in time.”

“You owe me, Cunningham!” Howard yelled as Randy ran off.

A quick check to make sure the coast was clear and a smoke bomb later, and the Ninja was outside to face down Viceroy’s latest robot. A Robo-Spider, from the looks of it. Randy peered down at its many eyes (laser blasters, no doubt) from his perch on the roof of the school. Howard actually had a point. Maybe he should just ask what McFist wanted.

Not here, though.

Not this way.

Leading the Robo-Spider back to McFist Industries, though?

That might get his attention.

And some answers.

And maybe it would get the Nomicon off his back for a while, too, even if he wasn’t sure what First Ninja actually wanted him to do. This would be a start.

Grinning, Randy palmed a few Ninja Tripping Balls and flipped down to face his latest opponent.

(see more fics)

[yuissamidare]

@codes i think i may have put this on my artblog but... Here

i guess ill start w ichi bc i always forget about him somehow like i always come up short when im making lists and im like 'oh wait shit yeah that guy’ bc im stupid n i only think of fishing trio + choro. I’m an Idiot. idk i never thought too hard on ichi bc i so rarely think about him but he looks so high its really funny i said this on main but he looks like my friend when he decided to try a weed gummy bear then started babbling about hentai then watched to watch porn with me but got mad all the intro scenes are a billion years long and started ranting about the industry but now that i think about it he looks like someone who used to send me weird shit when he was high like bad pick up lines about body parts i wish i didnt have

and thats so funny that its Ichimatsu who looks like that but also proof that hes high. but anyway!! hes really cute and im mad hes boutta ruin my reputation for my complete and utter lack of care and interest in him no matter what im mad. my friend gwyn said 'Sp lubing us up for the fuckening that is the reason why Ichi is sad in present day’ im really curious at the change like if hes trying a fake it till you make it type thing bc really emotionally exhausted or if hes just genuinely having a good time or hes puttin on a front since like. nails who stand get hammered down right??? just gotta do your best n Never Relax n i can relate to all that. but uhhh old hcs i guess

in kun ichi was the most serious! really smart but just as bad w school as the rest of them apparently but!! yeah so id think that!! ichis that guy who participates in class discussion constantly and is always willing to debate the readings, but turns in sloppy papers with typos and no a coherency or stucture or anything. he’s A+ in participation but has an average of 60% on most of the written assignments with points knocked bc of lateness then more bc its A Mess. you could ask about the prompts for one of his papers, he could babble about his position on it complete with paragraphs and footnotes but like the day before its due hes playing rpgs and watching horror movies.

his classmates think hes so smart n so intimidating. the family knows hes a hot mess. the teachers tell him he has a lot of potential but they don’t think hes applying himself. all are right. also he doesnt cheat or let people cheat off of him since hes always been about rules and boundaries and Rightness n he n jyushi were the only ones who Minded Themselves in kun

uhh jyushi!! let me talk about schoolwork again bc yeah i love jyushi so so so so much and thinking of him in a school environment is so weird i thought about it a lot n i thought about it him in kun n san and Woah!! i really really love delinquent jyushi, bc when i saw that i was like 'huh! that fits actually!!’ i love that like him and choro flip flopped completely from what i thought. his school must be so cold theyre too cheap to afford heating in the winter and in summer the acs Blast. he was so Shy and quiet and he cried and he liked to sing so i always thought that when he participated in chorus festivals hes always like right in front!! he hums a lot in class and also moves around alot bc he actually like school and people like primary trio are the types that make friends often. i wasnt supposed to talk about this yet whoops.

unlike ichi who relatively neat despite everything but has shit notes, jyushis notes are amazing and understandable and utterly illegible.

theyre covered in doodles, arrows and lines leading every which way, different colors but not like color coded n theyre not in order by date, but he opens to a random page every time yet somehow always seems to know where to find each lesson. he writes footnotes and caveats and corrections and criticisms of the teachers and random thoughts and just smears ink everywhere. sometimes his notes are on a completely different subject. the notebook itself is a horrifying mess, the front and back covers both covered in drawings and designs and falling apart, random papers shoved between the pages, coming apart at the seams, covered in stains of unknown origin. assignments are full of emoticons and informal language, and they always manage to make his teachers feel like hes smarter than they are (most likely). he does his projects the minute theyre assigned, and is finished a minute later so can talk to his friends. he loved school.

sophie told me once about how she thought was Like That was bc one of his main concerns is that he thought he had nothing that made him Jyushi n in kun she said he might have been the one who was the most concerned about having a distinctive personality and i talked about how that sorta carried over san and how he always blended in bc of how gentle and soft and push-overy he was. he was actually the and most gullible and weakest in kun so i was like :0 when i saw that and intentionally did stuff like only carry 14 yen in his pockets to be quirky but it always sorta fell flat and he was still invisible so i was like hmmmmm. and i can see how he couldve toughened up and thinking of this now!! i love that. oh im so happy. this is so much better than i ever couldve imagined ever.

totty…. i do not think he was very popular or good at school. i think he’s very decent at schoolwork but he never put much effort into it. just copies whats on the board but if the class runs out of allotted lesson time n he couldnt finish his work he just didnt do it like cram schools a pain in the ass. if he put effort hed be a star student but he just craps out whatever since hes was the laziest!! oh but something i noticed was that him and jyushi would play together often since sometime he felt overwhelmed by karamatsu a lot. also hes the money thief and scammer its great kun todo is so good. he gets shy and flustered easy too!!

but uhh yeah!! depending on the day im always like 'zaimoku love each other so much they are best friends and the perfect other halves!!’ then im like 'these mofos hate each other what the fuck is this trainwreck’ did you see their shitty small talk in the horse episode. what was that. like they are genuinely trying to communicate and are pretty easy with each other but they have nothing to say. its like when youre having a boring day at school and theres nothing to talk about with an acquaintance so you just look at the walls and go 'have you ever noticed how stupid these posters are’ then you both start reading posters aloud but you both know its not that funny and youre just doing it to waste time but you still enjoy their company you just dont want silence. thats their relationship. and i think they are just very similar in very different ways and like. the key things that make them both similar and different and the same fuck them up (like suiriku!! theyre both really similar even if it doesn’t seem like it at first which is why their compatibility in the relationship chart was so low in s1, but i saw a lot of improvement in both of their behaviours and their communication and honestly. s2 was worth it for that sophie was so happy to see her faves get along) like sometimes when you look in the mirror all the things you see are the things you dont like about yourself instead of what makes you wonderful and unique. also i didnt mean to talk about this but i guess i am.

but yeah. totty is bitter n resentful at kara during hs n karas more confused and upset at tottys behaviour in their twenties n thats bc like i said. theyre dumb. karamatsu!! i think was actually pretty popular in highschool n had a good amount of friends - i genuinely think theatre kids are well liked bc i literally know everyone in my department and im friends w a good amount of people and im not even That extroverted. my actual extrovert friends know everyone in the school by name and everyone in my department is so nice even though theres a lot of bitchiness and drama its not as bad as w other humanities studies (jesus christ humanity students outside of theatre are a hot mess.)

uh yeah n that ultimately makes totty feel a bit… betrayed? karamatsu is his partner! theyre supposed to be there for eachother! kara’s the first one to branch out, get friends etc etc and todomatsus left behind bc hes always the one playimg follow the leader and he breaks out of that once they graduate - he grows up resenting karamatsu slightly though he still cares. but this time Hes the one cancelling plans to hang out with friends instead. my friend katie put it best when, in response to me telling them this, they sent me:

'kara: totty you have so many friends now. We barely see you anymore.

totty, applying chapstick: well, I learned it from the best.’

when i told them about it. but at the time gwyn and i were babbling about possibilities and different storylines and how theres a possiblity the movie might break down into three manageable plotlines n she gave zaimoku 'popularity’ and this was me throwing out ideas but honestly. Good. (aha, the end of this scenario ended up with todo throwing hands and shoulder checking someone outside a window and then getting removed from the premise n hanging with atsushi all night after) why am i on this. shit what happened here.

uhh but yeah totty is Def someone with learned behaviours rather than being a natural extrovert honestly just look at him hes an introverted mess masquerading as a decent human being and i know full well how people like that are bc some of them have been my best friends for years n seein the new hs promos solidifies that fact bc look at him. Crybaby. He is Miniscule. A Child.

then its 'delinquent who looks like an honour student’ choro. i never studied him until sophie started liking choro n since i love sophie i wanted to take an interest in him too. n i started to think very hard about him! then gwyn planted this in me n its taken root and im just never not gonna think its great. yall see his shitty gokudo impression what a bossy lil shit. he pulled a whip on kara once and it was mad funny but also Gwyns Big Evidence for him just being the absolute worst not like a casually skips class type but a Choro was a legit a bully and really mean n sabatoged other classmates to make him look like he was 100% That Bitch. maybe not him being Mean and cruel but just an asshole who bums around, is something i really like that one a lot its been one of my faves since gwyn n i started talking about it but i just!! have a ton of other things too!!

hes a lot like karamatsu in that theyre both stupid and weird and embarrassing and they put on airs but they also!! dont try!! they talk so big and such high goals n expectations and they dont do shit bc they have so much hubris but i always talk about them bc suiriku is sophies Beloved so ill like. Not. but he acts like he’s better than all of them n forces the role of the straight man on himself because he wants to be seen as the responible, level headed one even if hes just. So Much.

i think the movies calling back to how touchy feely and clingy he was in kun and adding on to how jyushis a delinquent and kara… Is Like That he’ll be around them the most bc jyushi might either be really protective or push him away and then they do something to mend their relationship later on or hell cling to kara and they just. grow apart. sticking to my hc until the end bitches. oh.

for choro… personally!! i thought hed be a slacker instead of a delinquent but not in the way totty slacked - totty was lazy n knew the work but didnt want to put in effort but choro just. Doesnt. choro has so much energy all the time and choro Can Not deal with school situations. bc like… you always hear people say that studying is meant to be done at the desk, silently, no distractions what so ever!! focus on notes and nothing else!! ise a highlighter but dont use it too much!! make your notes legible but you only have five minutes before the board gets erased!! review!!! look at your notes or youll die! take breaks bit dont take too long and honestly. listen. kun choro wouldnt be able to stand that shit and id think hed just think he was doing it The Wrong Way n he just wasnt meant to do it.

he doesnt like quiet classrooms!! he cant study like that and hell get distracted. he cant sit still n thats why totoko broke up w him in the beer ad and why hes just Everywhere in kun!! hes understimulated and its just Ugh! you know??? he’ll fidget w his pens until he breaks them or hum or tap his foot and annoy everyone or leave for the bathroom at least three times a class just to get up and move.

eventually he just. gives up even though hes super smart he like, stops caring bc if you dont care to understand material then you wont have to read and read and reread and rereread something to get it! classes just make everything uncomphrehensible and makes any idea he may have sublimate into nothing. but he can work on the trains and the buses! he needs something kenetic to get him moving and trains n shit always have enough going on to work with, just like with home!! chorochoro motherfuckers. he works much better moving forward, ironic as that is. he feels sorta set apart from every thing like hes behind some big plane of glass doing everything wrong and being all set apart from everything. eventually he takes to acting like a real fussy mom to avoid his own problems and help everyone else out even though hes annoying and even when he graduates but it gets Worse bc then figures out how much!!! he fucked up!! then he kicks himself into high gear n still cant do shit. ahh.

its illegal for me to talk about choukei bc i talk about them so much and im always being annoying n typing stupid essays about them bc theyre… my faves.. But this is so long…

it actually makes me super happy that he kara acne he still can be really fighty and he cries and he still does stupid impulsive shit for others and even though hes really sweet and caring is still an utter monster and fucking mess of a person. love him. i always like to think his shittymatsu nickname came from iyami n it just morphed from there bc in 66 you can hear iyami calling him specifically garbage. ive always been glad they kept his sewing hobby too. ahh, actually from what i see hes pretty similarities to kun so i wonder when he decided to air out that teremity. idk what to say about him that i havent in tottys section. he just Feels like someone who had a good support group and nice friends bc of how hes able to move in the world. kara feels like some whos doing their growing up in their twenties bc highschool came easy to them and now theyre just really struggling with the real world. like i shouldve expected softboy hs kara and i appreciate him very much!! i talk about choukei a lot bc they were the first characters that spoke so i immediately attached myself to them n i talk about karamatsu Specifically but im not sure i ever mentioned how much i appreciated how smart and cautious hes proved himself to be time and time again, like how hes the only one to point out totokos fish shtick aint doing her favours or how he was the first one to notice osos irritation n how you can pick out his voice warning jyushi to calm down in the bg of 24 or how in the comedian episode he was ready to take Notes from iyami and a lot of other small things!!

i would think hes actually a bit more serious n calm in hs and san is him amping up traits that drew people to him in hs and it backfiring on kara spectacularly - kara is always gauging people and their reactions and acting in a way he believes will get something positive, but at the same time is utterly oblivious when it comes to actually Getting them n i talked about the girls on the bridge but this is also prevalent with ichi who kara just. Doesnt Get and can not figure out how to maneuver their relationship. like oso, kara is and elder brother!! and elder brothers have an image theyre supposed to uphold, but while kara acts the part he doesnt do the shit a big brother does and shrugs that responsibility off on oso until oso fucks up until s2, where they share the role more evenly and his relationship with ichi improves but this is another essay entirely. what im trying to get with that is that hyperfocus on what other people think of him, but his complete disregard when it comes to their actual reaction and instead what he wants their reactions to be would also greatly impact him transtioning from a teen to an adult im sorry im getting sloppy now

osomatsu… i really adore him too much and i understand how totty felt in their episode bc i also lent my phone to a friend who needed to desperately jack it before meeting new people n i talk about him a whole lot too. hes mean and an asshole and garbage n i know a lot of people find him plain n boring but idk. i dont think thats the case hes a really complexed n nuanced character n hes literally has always been way back from kun n thats expected from a main character but… hes always been mean n dumb n sly and he can get so pathetically vunerable and thats literally!! him. hes a normal dude nothing wrong with that n it can be real refreshing. n i suppose im so fond of fishing trio+choro bc they remind me of my friends. but yeah even if hes 'plain’ i dont see why thats a bad thing. n this they always have the most interesting body language like despite kara being So Much his body language was always closed off n singled him out as everything But exuberant and bright, and osos quirks like how he stands on his toes a lot had always been so cute… its relaxed and open n screams Talk To Me!!!!

ahh but i always end up thinking oso was. oso??? theres not much to say that i havent before but i do think that he was a lot more like he was in episode 2 when ranting to chibita about having shitty brothers and then actively Chose to be a good brother even if he wasnt a good person and be a stable rock and be someone they could all come back to at the end of the day. and hes good at math im never letting this die.

[inhalareexhalare]

I made a Cheez-It snail. I suppose they were right to close campus today.

It's so darned cold outside. The rain is moderate in volume.

I suppose the long break starts today, then. Office opens next on Monday.

2018-10-30 13:00 Philippines Tuesday

These are the two kids, the nephews of Moira~ I got them hooked to Skullgirls HAHAHA

They like Beowulf now.

The chatty younger one's biting on the Milo sachet while the athletic older one is quietly studying his moves.

They've been using the same tactics, but they're now managing to claim some wins, compared to continuous losses at the beginning. The difference is growing confidence.

I guess psychology also plays a part in games.

To Small Group:

Parang ang dami pala nating pinagdadaanan ah =v= prayer requests, guys?? XD [It seems we're going through a lot of things =v=]

(As for me I'm being anxious about trivial things lately, a side effect from being too engrossed aka hyperanxious with work huhu)

It looks like we won't be able to go to Bulacan this long break :( Karu said the weather doesn't seem to be on our side and he made arrangements with friends.

So sad. On the other hand, I would travel a storm to be on a geographical adventure right now.

I desperately need it. But I can make do with home for now...

2018-10-30 15:00 Philippines Tuesday

OMYGOSH

SLEEPING ALL DAY THROUGH THE BEAT OF THE RAIN

WITH KARU PLAYING GAMES ALL DEIII (He's the gamer. I'm just a film junkie who's curious about anything and everything.)

That's my laptop (I have Windows and he has Mac so we adjust to whichever game or use is more appropriate. We share all our stuff.) and his leg and hand covered parts of it.

It kind of looks like a boat with its sail.

I feel so comfy in this kind of darkness.

I remember countless nights of Ma drinking beer in the dead of the night, watching T.V. with almost zero volume.

She's thoughtful of her sleeping children.

It's the nights when she's most sad and cannot sleep. She goes to our room and does this thing. (There were only two bedrooms: one for the parents and another for the siblings.)

It's the nights when Pa was most likely playing with another girl.

We don't hate Pa as a person though. It seems he has a different understanding of relationships. He has pretty low emotional intelligence to make up for his superb logic. He really does love Ma. The I-want-to-marry-you kind. He even vowed not to marry anyone else. Even after Ma died, he wouldn't marry anyone else.

Despite being terribly emotional, he doesn't understand emotions well. But I think he gets it better now.

I am so happy that everyone is learning everyday. I feel an indescribable sense of pride and joy every time I see Pa interact with my siblings in a more human and emotionally understanding way. (Only with my siblings, because Pa imposed a deal between us not to interact for a whole two years after I left home for independence. He's mighty stubborn, like me. I think it's a test of perseverance and will haha My friends don't get it though and think that he's doing this out of spite. We're a weird species.

Karu thinks it's partly for recovery time. It was a very painful time for Pa when I left, being his secret favorite child.)

I still send him letters and pictures as gifts and he accepts them! :) I told him I understand the deal is still on and so I don't feel offended when he doesn't respond, and he didn't. My beloved stubborn old man.

I heard from my sister about something Pa's girlfriend saw (don't worry, she's awesome. She's sort of psychic, and that's unknown territory to my knowledge, and she's also funny and witty and the very image of a young mom. She retained the personality haha. She has only one daughter, from her divorced husband.)

She found Pa alone in his room on several occasions reading the favorite book I left when I improvised my escape from home. It's the poetry book.

It must have piqued his interest as I barely talked about writing and poetry around him. That's the mistake we all made together.

We never spoke about our inner thoughts and feelings. Everyone in our home is awkward as hell. So introverted. But it ends up that we all can get along after all. :)

It was just came as a shock when big decisions came and we're just finding out what the other person's actual beliefs and philosophy are. The conflict with expected beliefs we thought the other shared with us then created chaos and panic within each of our minds, looking for ways to "fix" the other's "mistakes" to put everything "back to normal".

This is my personal analysis of my family, but I think this is a fairly popular occurrence.

It's important to aim to understand. It's important to never forget we are only human.

2018-10-30 18:23 Philippines Tuesday

So I've been thinking. Kids have a need for love and attention, right? 

Even I do.

But there are times that I want to be left alone. What then of the child?

It's important for them to understand that they can't always get they want and some people need alone time, but I don't want them to feel neglected.

But then I suppose this is nighttime anxiety issue all over again. Ma probably felt the same, and that's why she was always there when I cried at night and couldn't sleep. She always carried me to their room and let me snuggle up with her.

A bad cause for a bad separation anxiety to develop.

Maybe there needs to be a balance, between loving and giving space. Love is freedom after all. There cannot be love without space. Like two pillars. A pillar is hardly good foundation for a wide roof.

But how do I strike that balance?

That's what I'm gonna find out.

2018-10-30 20:07 Philippines Tuesday

THOR AND JOB ALSO GOT HOOKED TO SKULLGIRLS HAHAHA

I get a bit more than sad that Karu doesn't have late nights out with them anymore though.

So I have a new plot idea. I might start doodling some yonkoma thingy.

A ghost girl who dates a vampire who has vampire friends. These blood-hungry folks come out to play at night. But what does a vampire do when his ghost wife gets uncontrollably sad at night? (Maybe that's why there are stories of weeping invisible entities in the darkness lol)

A comic about a ghost who struggles with clumsy anxiety and paranoia nightly. Hm.

She didn't think her anxiety would survive after death.

2018-10-30 22:30 Philippines Tuesday

[beepbeeprichiellc]

Rose Thorns (1/11)

Summary: Richie Toizer and his band find themselves in a once and a life time situation but can Richie step out of his comfort zone to skyrocket the bands chances for success? Eddie Kaspbrak works at the famous Bourbon Room Club and is responsible for the nights entertainment, when a group of misfits audition for him and his boss he finds himself questioning everything he had thought he knew about himself, love and rock and roll.

A/N: In case some of you don’t notice this is and AU, so please disregard if you dislike these types of fanficiton. The Losers are around 22/23 in this fiction so very age appropriate. Let me know what you think and if I should continue…..

Word Count: 1961

Masterlist

Part: 1 (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

“Look, Pearl Jam.”

Richie smirked at his friend’s announcement, he was in complete bliss looking at the littered walls. It was like he was in a trance, aimlessly allowing his eyes to wander. Names and dates were carved into its faded wood, forever keeping the bands that had passed through this room. Most were unknown, their signatures forever forgotten by the industry that had swollen them whole. However there were a few that caused the familiar excitement churn the contents of his stomach.

“Nine Inch Nails.” A gentle voice announced from beside him. “I love them.”

“I’ll give you a nine inch nail Bev.” Richie joked, not even bothering to look over to her. His eyes were on a mission, determined to find all of his favorite bands. There was a playful push against his shoulder followed by a light giggle.

“Can we please focus guys?” The stoic boy in the corner hissed, unamused by the graffiti on the walls.

“G-geez Stan r-relax, take a minute to a-appreciate where we are.” Their leader sputtered, looking over to their drummer with an annoyed face. “His-history happened h-here.”

“Well we will be history if we don’t start taking this audition seriously.” He sneered, his fangs nearly biting at their skin with each syllable. “We need to get our head in the game.”

“Someone’s nervous.” Richie muttered, feeling a knot twist in his stomach.

“Damn right I am.” Stan agreed, fidgeting with his sticks. “This is a once in a life time shot, if we fuck it up we might as well just head back to Derry.”

There was a moment of realization between the young band members. It was all true, they were here on pure dumb luck, the weight of future lay on this one and only audition and if they landed the part it could be the start to their career. The Bourbon Room had a history of making or breaking artists, it was the ultimate stepping stone to fame, but for every great band to make it onto that stage there were thousands more who flunked out. Odds were definitely stacked against them.

The door to their waiting room opened, reviling a stocky stage hand. His eyes glanced to the clipboard in his hands before meeting theirs, “The Losers Club?” He asked, reading their bands name with a twinge of amusement.

Bill took a step forward, “Y-yes, that’s u-us.”

The almost too young looking boy smiled, nodding in their general direction. “I like the name.” There was an accumulation of nervous thanks, “You’re on next.”

“Thanks Haystack.” Richie blurted out nervously. The stage hand scrunched his face in annoyance, sending daggers in his direction.

“Ben, the name’s Ben.” He corrected, unamused by the trashmouths tasteless joke.

“Sorry about him Ben.” Beverly apologized, glancing at her bandmate in frustration. “Richie makes jokes when he’s tense. He didn’t mean anything about it.”  

She brushed back her auburn hair behind her ear before winking at him playfully. The simple flirtation caused Ben’s face to fluster. His gaze down casted before nodding, “Yeah, well okay.” There was an awkward moment as he cleared his throat, trying to regain his professional composure. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He left then, leaving the Losers in their anxious wake. Riche felt his heart pound against his ribs and was worried the others could hear his pulse in the confined room. His hands shook as he reached for his guitar, the neck sliding down in his sweaty hands.

“Ok.” Bill’s voice called to the group. “L-let’s do th-this.”

Eddie adjusted himself in his seat, doodling on his paperwork aimlessly. The club owner waved off the current band before turning toward his aid. “Well?” He asked, annoyingly overlooking Eddie’s scribbled lineup.

The well-kept boy rubbed the bridge of his nose, fighting off the urge to hide his paper. “Lead vocalist was powerful but the band as a whole was sub-par.”

Mr. Dupree’s scrunched his face in a way that made Eddie cringe. “Really, I liked them.” He muttered, crossing their names off of his own list. “I thought they had promise.”

“You don’t have to go with my opinion sir.” Eddie replied, feeling the need to fidget with his pleated pants. “You have been doing this much longer than me.”

“Are you calling me old Eddie?” Dupree joked, chuckling to himself.

“Of course not sir.” He quickly responded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I just think you weigh my opinion too heavily. You are the expert after all.”

The owner grumbled, outstretching his legs on the chairs in front of them. “You have a talent for this work Eddie. You have yet to let me down so I always go with your instincts. After all you’re in touch with the younger generation unlike me.”

“Rock ‘n’ roll never ages sir.” Eddie corrected smirking at his boss.

“Damn straight son.”  He bellowed, slapping his aids back proudly. The force nearly knocked Eddie from his seat, the small boy corrected his posture and smiled, trying not to think about the bruise that would be there tomorrow.

“Alright.” Ben announced, walking onto center stage. He flipped through his paperwork momentarily before glancing up to the only two in the audience. “Next we have The Losers Club.”

“Some name.” Eddie muttered, tapping on his paperwork. The owner refused to comment as the group took the stage.

A moderately pretty girl with fire hair took the microphone. She flashed a smile to the two men in the center of the room, her face bright with eagerness. “Hi, I’m Beverly Mash and we are The Losers Club.” She paused, as if waiting for an applause. The only one to move was the lanky, grungy kid to her left who clapped enthusiastically, hooting at their band name.  

Eddie could practically hear his friends groan. Beverly shot him a cold look to which he merely shrugged. It took a moment but the young lady cleared her throat and continued adjusting herself into place. The tallest boy of the group, to her right, whispered, “1….2….1…2…3..4” They began reasonably well, the girl named Beverly singing the song proudly.

Yesterday I got so old,

I felt like I could die,

Yesterday I got so old,

It make me want to cry

There was something off about the group dynamic, it was as if they were unbalanced. Eddie could feel his skin crawl at the awkwardness, it was all wrong. His brows furrowed as he listened to the song closely, desperate to pin point the issue.

Go on, go on.

Just walk away

Go on, go on,

Your choice is made

Go on, go on

And disappear

Go on, go on

Away from here

Eddie watched the other members of the group, taking in the way the music moved them. The woman had a great voice, no doubt but it wasn’t her place to sing. It was as if the real singer hid behind his instrument rather than dare the spotlight.

And I know I was wrong,

When I said it was true,

And be her in between,

Without you,

Without you

The Eddie noticed the dirtier boy on left stage. He strung his interment perfectly while his whole body reacted to the music. While the others merely swayed he mouthed the words, feeling the music in a way Eddie had only seen on once before. Suddenly he understood. He leaned over to his boss and whispered in his ear. Dupree nodded, crossing his arms in thought.

The band looked at one another timidly, fearing the conversation. The next chorus was cut short by the owner’s hand, halting them completely. The older man cleared his throat, adjusting himself correctly in his chair. “Okay that was good but not great.”

The Losers Club’s faces fell as they shifted worryingly. “You, boy with the mop head.” The kid to the left pointed to his chest, looking to his friends in confusion. “Yes, you.” Dupree muttered, moderately amused by the kids tall thin stature. “What’s your name?”

“R-Richie.” He muttered, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Do you sing Richie?”

“I-uh-Beverly is the lead singer.” He replied, pointing to the girl with a muddled look on her face. Eddie face palmed, annoyed at the boy’s stupidity.

Dupree however, snickered. “I didn’t ask who the lead singer was, I asked if you sang.” The kid named Richie shook his head, looking at his band timidly. “Are you sure?” The older man pressed, leaning onto his knees.

“I-uh I can sing, I just-“

“Alright, sing me something.”

“I can’t, Beverly-“

“Look kid, it’s simple.” The owner muttered, ignoring the way Eddie shifted in his chair. “The way the band is set up now isn’t Bourbon Room material.” He looked to the rest of the band and shrugged, “I’ve been in this business a long time and can tell if a band is gonna make it or not. Now, you can accept that and move on or you can take a second chance and lead a song for me.”

“I can’t-“

“God dammit Richie, just sing a song.” The drummer sneered from behind, practically throwing his sticks at him.

“Listen to your friend Richie. One song won’t kill you.” For a split second it seemed that Dupree’s words were going to scare him off but slowly, and to Eddie’s compete, surprise he took center stage. Beverly moved to his place instead, the look of confusion still on all of their faces. Richie looked to his friends and mouthed the name of a song, they nodded and again the tallest boy counted.

“1….2…1…2…3…4.”

The lead guitar, which Richie played, sang out beautifully, announcing the song. Eddie couldn’t help but smile, the rhythm vibrating in his chest. He watched the gangly kid stutter over his words, only to recover momentarily. His confidence building with each word.

She’s got a smile it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything

Was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And I’d stare too long

I’d probably break down and cry

Eddie watched the Richie kid bellow the song perfectly, his voice smooth and intoxicating. Goose bumps erupted on the small boys arms as the band played the infamous song, only improving it by the lead singer’s brilliant and stunning voice. He couldn’t help but feel his boss gaze on him but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t peel himself away from Richie, he was hypnotized.

Oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o’ mine

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

“Jesus, Eddie I don’t know how you do it.”  Dupree boasted, smiling proudly. “How in the hell did you know?” Eddie shrugged, completely unaware of his boss laughter. Richie was like noting he had ever heard before, his grace and composure on stage nearly overpowered the bands dynamic and yet there they were, the perfect version of The Losers Club. For the first time in his life Eddie was speechless.

She’s got eyes of the bluest skies

As if they thought of rain

I hate to look into those eyes

And see and ounce of pain

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place

Where as a child I’d hide

And pray for the thunder and the rain

To quietly pass me by

“We’ve got a winner my friend.” Mr. Dupree exclaimed happily, shaking Eddie’s shoulders fondly. “You’ve done it again.”

Eddie ignored this comment, instead watching the beautiful kid with the compelling voice. The voice of his dreams, the voice that made Eddie come alive. It was like paradise wrapped in an obnoxious, grungy packaging.

Oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o’ mine

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

[spiffysixxsense]

Pssst, do 1-65 of the questions you’re not used to 🖤

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?I doubt my own existence, not so much others. (I exist?)2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?Where am I? In my own room? 0. An abandoned asylum? Probably a good 4. Deep in an unknown forest with lots of noises? 53. The person you would never want to meet?Trump. I wouldn't be able to hold my tongue.4. What is your favorite word?I used the word Psychopharmacology alot today.5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?A weeping willow6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?I'm tired. Ugh I have to get ready. 7. What shirt are you wearing?A green v neck that has the X pattern thing across the chest.8. What do you label yourself as?Worthless9. Bright room or dark room?DARK ROOM get me the hell away from the light.10. What were you doing at midnight last night?Working on a project 11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?Anything from like 4-1012. Who told you they loved you last?Alex13. Your worst enemy?Nobody comes to mind of someone who actually truly hates me, @ me if you wanna be my enemy 14. What is your current desktop picture?A teal and black swirly pattern 15. Do you like someone?If my SO counts16. The last song you listened to?SHINEDOWN'S NEW SINGLE 'DEVIL' AND OOH MY GOD IT'S SO GOOD AND I CANT WAIT FOR THE REST OF THE ALBUM17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?The person I never wanna meet probably.18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?Oh my god these are all the same question TRUMP I HATE TRUMP I NEVER WANT TO MEET HIM I WANT TO BLOW HIM UP AND PUNCH HIM. 19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?I have no idea who it would be but I would definitely make them write some essays and annotated bibliographies for me20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)I don't really have one, but I don't hate my lips. They have a nice shape for lipstick21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?I'd probably look like my dad and I'm playing with my dick all day. 22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?I don't even have a known talent much less a secret one 23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?Driving terrifies me, and it somehow gets worse each time I do it. 24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.Waldorf chicken salad came to mind, with spinach and whole wheat bread. I'm boring 25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?Like, one grocery trip. 26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?Honestly. Nowhere. I hate sudden plans. But to play along, I'll say Greece. 27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?"Even if you don't drink booze there's something you can figure out" what am I figuring out? I don't want any alcoholic beverages.28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? No hate/ prejudice/ discrimination 29. What is your favorite expletive?I say fuck alot.30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?Probably my computer, but something more meaningful is my childhood stuffed dog, Kipper.31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?Oh baby I like this one. Does it have to be ONE memory? Like I want to erase the times I was in the car as a child with a drunk driver that made me terrified to drive, but it happened more than once, can I erase them all?32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!That wasn't really a question, but I get it. In actuality, probably Canada. It's not America but more similar than other places so I'm not culture shocked.33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?My Aunt Patricia 34. What was your last dream about?I can't remember, but I think school. Ugh35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?So I'm making the question? Am I a good anything? The answer is no regardless. 36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?Not since infancy 37. Have you ever built a snowman?Yes38. What is the color of your socks?Burgundy with little brown foxes39. What type of music do you like?Rock/alternative/metal40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?Sunsets. I only see sunrises because I'm sleep deprived 41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?Banana 42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)I can't name a single soccer team but I'm a Lions fan no matter what.43. Do you have any scars?Not really anymore, they have faded.44. What do you want to be when you graduate?Employed.45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?My anxiety 46. Are you reliable?Yes. Too much sometimes 47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?Am I ever okay? Am I ever happy? Am I ever a capable adult?48. Do you hold grudges?A little bit yeah. 49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?When I was in like 4th grade we had to do this and then draw it, and I made a Larkigator, a lion shark alligator 😂50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?Something with @x-i-a-t in a tent at 4 am, or just a way too personal conversation with @reddragon800051. Are you a good liar?Yes. Most of the time.52. How long could you go without talking?Weeks honestly. 53. What has been you worst haircut/style?I guess bangs, but I don't even think they looked that awful. I did however get chunky blonde highlights I did not like. 54. Have you ever baked your own cake?From scratch, no55. Can you do any accents other than your own?Well? No. 56. What do you like on your toast?Butter and apple jelly57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?I mean technically just little random doodles of shapes when I was bored in class.58. What would be you dream car?I joke about a model GT because that's my initials, but honestly one that will drive itself. 59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain?If no-one is home I will play music and dance, I don't usually sing just because I fear someone will come home and hear me lol. If there isn't music i talk to myself, either venting to nobody or just saying all the things I have to do when I get out 60. Do you believe in aliens?Yes 61. Do you often read your horoscope?Never 62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?The two most important people's names in my life begin with A. 63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?Shit. I want to say dragons but i think I'm gonna say dinosaurs just because they actually existed.64. What do you think about babies?Keep them away from me.65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.Am I procrastinating by answering these? Yes.

[zsweber-studios]

Get-to-know the Writer

So, I wasn’t tagged by anyone, but I saw @alolancharmander do one of these earlier, and so I thought I would do it myself. So, here we go!

Rules: tag 5 or more other writers. If you aren’t tagged, feel free to use these questions anyway and consider yourself tagged!

1. Short stories, novels, or poems? Novels, definitely. With fanfictions, I’m willing to read short stories, but I always tend to write for worlds or concepts much larger than just a small one-shot.

2. What genre do you prefer reading? Probably fantasy and adventure the most. I still have some pull towards youth-literature (Harry Potter and Percy Jackson are always good series to go back to), but I’m also a big fan of classic fantasy and adventure--R.A.Salvatore’s works, along with Weis and Hickman’s dragon worlds, are what immediately come to mind.

3. What genre do you prefer writing? High Fantasy and High Adventure. Basically, the way I envision my stories are D&D campaigns, and see where the story goes.

4. Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person? So, this is difficult to say, because in the broad sense of things I am a planner. I think of the overall arcs of a story, what I want to have happen, and where I want the story to go. But with each individual chapter--well, it’s like I said above, it’s like a D&D campaign without d20 rolls--anything can happen.

5. What music do you listen to while writing?

Well, it depends. I’m better listening to soothing piano music--just find a random livestream channel on YouTube--but I also sometimes listen to high-pace Nightcore music to help me get into the mood.

6. Fave books/movies? Like I said above, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson are big favs of my childhood, and both the Legend of Drizzt series and Weis and Hickman’s worlds all have influenced me in my young adult life. As for movies, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings are big favorites.

7. Any current WIPs? So, I do have some Bleach fanfictions that I’m working on getting back to--Bleach: ReWrite the Past, and Bleach: To Pierce the Heavens--and I also have an original work I’ve been working on recently--The Legends of Valeron.

8. If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be? Okay, so first--if we’re talking about cartoon, I’m definitely the anime protagonist’s rival. Not the bad-guy, but the hero’s friend that keeps him on his toes and makes certain he doesn’t fuck shit up. Think Uryuu from Bleach, or Gray from Fairy Tail, except with less sewing, less stripping, and more random doodling and sketching.

As for outfit, I prefer slim hoodies and graphic-t’s, and either blue jeans with cooler-hued outfits or tan cargo pants with warmer-hued outfits. As the rival, though, I’d probably prefer darker, cooler-hued clothes.

9. Create a character description for yourself: Oh, we were going to get into the character description, eh? Well, like I said, I’d see myself as the rival to the anime protagonist. I don’t talk a lot, I can come across as aloof, cold, and dispassionate, but once I know I can trust you, I show my true colors as a goofball, a dork, and a faithful friend. I’m the one always wistfully chasing a dream, even when everyone else says I can’t do it.

10. Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing? No. I’ve had a lot of people learn about me writing and ask for them to get a cameo, and at this point it just affirms to me that no one from reality will ever be a part of my stories.

11. Are you kill-happy with characters? Not yet. Maybe at some future day--not everyone can have a happily-ever-after, after all, and some deaths are necessary for character development and plot progression. I’m not kill-happy, just a harbinger of necessary evil to the worlds I create.

12. Dream job? Probably writer. I know I probably won’t get there anytime soon, so I don’t know exactly what I’ll do in the meantime, but I’m gonna keep pursuing that dream.

13. Coffee or tea while writing? Hot Cocoa, actually.

14. Slow or fast writer? Considering the piece I love most right now, Bleach: ReWrite the Past, hasn’t been updated in a year...yeah, I’m gonna go with slow.

15. Where/who/what do you find inspiration from? I get a lot of my inspiration from R.A.Salvatore’s Drizzt series. It’s what I’ve based a good deal of my current style off of, though with my own twists. I also am a big fan of The Adventure Zone, so there might be some inspiration from the adventures of the Tres Horny Boys scattered throughout my stories.

16. If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be? A half-orc bard. Seriously, a few coworkers at one of my last jobs told me repeatedly that that is exactly what I would be in a fantasy world.

17. Most fave book cliche? Least fave book cliche? Most: The main character having some unknown heritage that makes them part-god, or the heir of some forgotten or fallen kingdom. Second favorite is badass princess in disguise, because that’s always fun. Least: Bad romance in general, really. Like, please understand, I’m a sappy person, but I hate having to see fandoms get into almost deadly debates over who-should-get-with-who, girls that are just there to motivate the protagonist on.

18. Fave places to write: I write best laying prostrate either on my bed or on the floor, with one of those notebooks filled with graph paper to write on. Then, eventually I’ll go back and transcribe it all back into a Word doc.

19. Fave scenes to write? Character developement scenes. The ones where as I’m writing it, I am getting hit by my own feels, and have to take a break every few seconds to keep myself from getting tears on my transcript.

20. Most productive time of day for writing? Around midnight.

21. Reason for writing: I’m a bard. It’s what we do.

So, I don’t know if I know five people who are writers on here, so I’ll tag five people I think are all writers, and if they aren’t...well, they don’t have to do it.

@cody-baxter-isms, @braith-eisen-isms, @snakes-stan-and-stuff, @browniefox, @miss-pyrrha-nikos-isms

And that is it from me guys! As always, Stay Epic, My Friends!

[franeridart]

i know this isn't really related to your art but how do you figure out when ship weeks are? like lol i don't know anything about them and then ur like haha kiribaku week y'all and i am confuddled please share your magic

... so you know how tumblr (the site itself, I mean) has that kind of one track mind for which once you start following one (1) blog related to Thing it’ll start suggesting you all the blogs about Thing? I’m the type of person to go “... why the heck not” and click on the follow button of every single one of those suggestions so now I kind of follow most of the blogs related to the ships I’m on, which means that the posts about the weeks are kind of bound to happen across my dash one or a hundred times in a row

👍👍👍👍 the magic is having no implulse control at all my dashboard is a magical disaster 👍👍👍👍

Anon said: Why are scorpio people important? ♏

Boi, this ask confused me for a while haha but you’re referring to that old Futakuchi doodle, right? It’s because it’s my sign, anon~ I love all my signs a lot for unknown reasons, so when I find out a character is a scorpio I’m like oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh new child haha

Anon said: Omggggg i had no idea you watched dgm!!! I tried watching since the beginning but its kinda slow. I still loved it and my faves are specially allen and lavi!!! 💖💖💖 Talk to me about them!! When does it start getting Good?

What an hard question anon, oh my god haha as far as I’m concerned dgm has always been and always will be Good™ (it is my favorite manga, after all), but I’ll give you that the anime can get boring fast - it’s slow and more filler than actual story as far as the first season goes, and for my tastes poorly adapted and too heavy for the second. If you try out the manga, though, stuff really does happen fast and arcs follow each other mostly without a break, you can’t really call it slow at all lol

Since I’ve watched the first season about a decade ago I can’t really remember at which point I decided I’d sell my soul to it, probably when Lavi first appeared lbr, but if I had to give an objective answer to when it gets properly into the story I’d say when the Noahs are introduced for the first time (with Road and the Rewinding Town arc, which is... volume 3) ((it also happens to be around when Lavi makes his first appearance a+ coincidence you might nearly say he’s the heart of the story *wiggle eyebrows* get it? nah you probably don’t ignore me))

As far as talking about Allen and Lavi goes, I have no clue where to start and I don’t know how long it’d take for me to get through it all, oh man! They’re two of the most amazing characters I’ve ever read about, deep and complex and heavily layered - the type of characters that you can easily fit into a stereotype the first time you see them, but the more you learn about them the more you realize it’s not that simple at all. Because that simple and easy facade they show is part of them, but they’re at the same time its exact opposite as well, and they have sad pasts and sad presents and probably sad futures too, but you still see them standing tall and forcing a smile and joking and laughing and being so so so so strong it makes my heart clench just thinking about it - it’s hard to talk about them when I don’t know how much you know and how much it’s spoiler, but they’re... they’re kind of everything to me. How do you even explain someone that all-encompassing in just a few words? 

Anon said:do you have any ideas/theories on who the traitor could potentially be?

I still haven’t had any reason to change my mind about it being Tsukauchi, tbh ✌️

Anon said:Idk man I did some reading just now (on Wikipedia) and it sounds like mozzarella is exactly what I think it is?? (though I did not know that it's traditionally made with water buffalo milk or the method it is made using or that it has to be vacuum sealed to keep it fresh more than a few days)

Possibly? What I meant to say is that mozzarella is white and round and has to be eaten a max of two days after you’ve made it unless you cook it and when you cut it there’s a lot of milk coming out and anything that can be called a stick or a string and can be peeled 100% for sure isn’t mozzarella, my pal

Anon said:You know, I can actually understand the childhood friend headcanon with Kiri and Mina, they both have super bubbly personalities and would probably click instantly

My favorite possibility for now is that when Mina’s quirk first manifested she couldn’t really control it and that made it impossible to be near any kid her age - any but Kirishima, that is, because his quirk protected him from her acid, and since Kiri is Kiri he couldn’t just leave her alone, which is how they became friends!! It’d be nice, wouldn’t it!!

Anon said:I just really really like you? You're so sweet and kind and your art is amazing and you take the time to answer even the smallest, most useless asks and every time I see you on my dash I get so happy and it's a flash of brightness honestly, thank you so much for existing

I’m gonna lay down forever oh my god this is the best ask I’ve ever gotten - thank you!!! So MUCH!!!!! I’m just sad to say that there are some asks I never get around to answering o

Anon said:As for the Servamp manga: faecakes has a masterpost for it and has just answered an ask about this. Maybe this week their raws may arrive :)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you so much for letting me know!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:As a french person i too feel really weirded out by most American "cheese". But i'm pretty sure cheese sticks use one of what we call here "false cheese" or "prepared cheese" which is actually closer to some sort of cream, kinda like most string cheese if you understand what i mean ? Anyway i'm sure it's not a noble cheese and doesn't even have a name. Yes i am a cheese elitist fight me on this

I don’t think I’ll fight you on anything because being from where I am I understand being particular about cheese all too well, anon, don’t worry hahaha but yeah I had at some point guessed it’s more like all the processed melted cheeses we have in Italy too tbh