#the frizz does something original

[thefrizz13]

How do we get this campaign going I’m so serious

#canon nurseydex???? #SAY LESS #check please #omgcp #nurseydex #the frizz does something original

[cutepastelstarsalior]

Helluva boss review part 3

Episode 8

*squints eyes* why does vortex look different here???

Loona calls another hellhound (dog??) a bitch. And the other hellhounds get offended, I guess that word would be an offensive term for dog demons…But I thought Loona never been to a party before? How did that poodle dog knew her, and had a picture of her puking??

Wait. Wait I know that voice….IS THAT FREAKING KESHA LIKE THE KESHA OH MY GOD.

Oh this song is kind of bad. Like lyrical…I mean it’s a basic pop song???

ALOS WHAT THE HECK IS SHE??? IS SHE A BEE?? A WOLF, A FOX???? WHY IS SHE A HYBRID???

I do like that her hair, stomach, and arms glow. That’s cool. Also apparently she’s Beelzebub????? Ok so Beelzebub was originally a Hebrew god. In the Christian stories, he represents as either envy OR gluttony. But one person thought he might be the demon of pride, another thought he was a demon of idolatry aka false god. He seen as a fly demon because some scholars call him a piece of shit and that said his flowers are flies attract to waste.

So…Beelzebub is a confusing character. Here in Viv’s world, Bee is a weird fox bee hybrid that is a party girl. Who also feed off her party-goers energy? Or something like that, it’s a bit confusing…She also makes food and drinks bigger, and she shows concern when Blitzo gets wasted, says she can taste his “off vibes”. She also makes Loona feel self doubt and she makes Loona jealous or envy of Bee.

Loona taking care of Blitzo who’s drunk and stars taking about he’s going to die alone….MOOD. I’ve been there loonie..

Scale out of 5. I give this a 1. Bee is an ok character. I don’t care about her.

Season 2 episode 1

Ok. Weird. This episode was made in 2020, while episode 8 was made in 2023. Did something happen? Why did they make episode 8 be part of season 1 when they could have made it be part of season 2? Is it because that story fit alongside episode 7??

Ok. So baby Stolas was given his grimoire to learn and study the space and sky and how to tell prophecies, and to have access to the human realm. And to one day pass down his knowledge. He was also was in an forces engagement.

So Blitzo and frizz grow up in the circus together. I guess frizz is like his brother or cousin?? Also Blitzo dad sold him to Stolas’s father! But blitzo’s dad wanted Blitzo to steal from them to help the family. I don’t know if Blitzo would be there only for a day or forever??

Baby Stolas infodumping about frogs and toads is cute.

STOLAS WIFE IS NAME STELLA ITS BEEN 9 EPISODES AND IM JUST FINDING THIS NOW?????

So Stella was a mean/cruel wife. Also Stolas had a big crush on Blitzo. In the pilot Blitzo slept with Stolas to get the book. Here they show just what happens. Only problem is that Stolas was drunk and not in the correct mindset to actually content to the sex…😬

Stella only stays around Stolas is to remind him of what he did???? What????? Have a one night stand that wasn’t even consensual? Also Stolas wanted a normal happy family, but Stella was an abusive wife. And Octavia is 17. Wow, really firing off the details here..Also I guess it’s frown upon higher royal demon family to be in relationship with Imps or just lower class?? As far the only races I seen are Imps and succubus, Hellhounds, whatever Striker is, and Stolas’s family. I guess bird people? Also whatever Ozzie is…Man the Helluva Boss’s races are very few..

Scale out of 5. I give it a 2. The show gave lots of background for Stolas….i just don’t care about him though.

Episode 2.

This episode Octavia wants to see the meteor showers with her dad

“What no I’m not Turing her against you” MOOOODDDDD. I guess every divorce child hears that phrase once by their parents. But ahh, sucks that her dad has to explain that to Stella. But I’m glad Stella is moving out of the house with her things. I wonder if she and Stolas with share custody of Octavia or not? Since via is 17?

It’s still weird to see Blitzo and Lonna have a family dynamic? Well, I just in the case having Loona be very angry at her dad because Blitzo told her that her attitude at work needs to change. Last time we saw them was in episode 8, but if this episode came out BEFORE episode 8…then it would be understandable that Loona and Blitzo relationship would still be rocky. If this episode takes place AFTER episode 8, then the whole Blitzo and Loona bound a bit after the party is odd..

How does Octavia know that Blitzo has the book? Did he overhear her dad mentioned it?

Oh cool, Stolas actually caring for his daughter!! Or well, noticing her. Progress!!

HOW DID THEY GET TO LA WITHOUT THE BOOK?????

Oh neato!! A sailor moon parody :3. Usually when Loona transforms its in a burst of fire.

Ok, so Stolas the demon is from a book called, Ars Goetia, also called The little (or lesser) Key of Solomon. It’s a book about scorcry that’s base off the testament of Solomon, who was an ancient Israel. Thought the book isn’t seen as canon in Jewish and Christian bibles. Fun fact!! Asmodeus is also in this book! He’s refused as the king of Shedim (demons). Shedim aren’t evil demigods, but god of foreigners. In the Christian book he’s the god demon of lust. He also seen as the god of gambling, and revenge.

Stolas why don’t you memorize your spells??? Or like, make a copy of your book????

Moxxie and Millie sing a cute duet. And Moxxie getting into human art is so cute!

I dont care about Blitzo or Stolas plot line I don’t care!!!!!!!

Loona tracking Octavia down by fallowing Octavia’s selfies/post is a cool idea. I think most or some people would do that in real life.

So Loona was adopted a month before she aged out of the orphanage. I guess Blitzo adopted her because he felt sorry for her? Or maybe it had something to do with her past.

“Why does he hate her more than he loves me?” Ow. Oh no Octavia your dad does love you. But I’m glad Stolas apologized to Octavia. Sometimes kids just want attention and to hang out with their parents, especially when there very big changes going on. I guess Stolas is closer to Octavia than Stella is? I don’t know if Stella is abusive to her or not. Sometimes a parent abusive their spouse but not the child, or sometimes it’s both. I hope I’ll be able to find out what the case is, then it would be easier for me to piece the puzzle that is the bird family. (I don’t remember their last name and I’m kind of lazy)

Scale out of 5. I give this a 1. Octavia and Loona bonding is cute, Moxxie and Millie is cute. I just hate that Blitzo and Stolas little adventure took to much focus on the plot. Like I literally just skip over them because I was bored..

Episode 3.

Please…..I can’t take this stupid fatphobia running gag. Literally none of these characters are fat.

Is Blitzo trying to breed horses??

Also, they don’t kill anyone in hell anymore? Or kill human in earth anymore? Wich one is it? Because it’s a very big plot hole depending on the answer.

Hold on hold on. In episode 1, Moxxie says the only family he would take out is a mob family. I thought that was a joke, but apparently Moxxie ISN’T from the Wrath ring but from the Greed ring??? I guess that explains why Moxxie dress the way he does, has an accent, and knows so much about weapons. Oh cute Moxxie and Millie have a rich boy x country girl relationship. I was gonna say the relationship is like My Fiar Lady but that like the only movie I think has that dynamic besides Lady and the Tramp.

Moxxie and Millie have the same ex….wow BI4BI Moxxie and Millie is true.

Why is there so many sharks…Wait fuck I’m a dummy. Sharks. Loan sharks….

This makes me wonder, how many mafia family are there in hell? There bounds to be like, a hundred or more. Do family in hell stay alive, just passing along the family business? So family get whipped out? If hell has an overpopulation issue like in Hazbin, is it because there too many crime family? Like how many sex trafficking business (for example) are in hell? How many sex workers are there? There should be like, a hard limit to this type of stuff.

“It’s been 84 years”. Hehe titanic reference.

Does human media end up in hell? There phones, tv, and internet in hell. Would hell and the human realm share the same internet?? Moxxie seems interested in human arts. But how does he know about the phantom of the opera musical then? Do humans just recreate the arts and media in hell?? To demons like steal it??? SHOW PLEASE TELL ME.

WHY IS THERE JAIL IN HELL?????? THERE A COURT SYSTEM??? WOULDN’T THE HUMANS WHO COME TO HELL BE AGAINST THAT????

Oh my goddddddd Moxxie prison number is 1984, witch if you did t know if the same title as a famous movie and book about a dystopian drama.

Ok timeline. Blitzo grew up in the circus with Fizz. Stolas came one day, and Stolas’s dad bought Blitzo. (Unclear if it’s for a day or forever). Something happens and Blitzo is no longer in the circus, adopt Loona, is in jail. He meets Moxxie. Once they’re out I think the too started the IMP business.

So, Crimson wants Chetz to help with the family business, and wants moxie to officially give up his role. How long has it been since Moxxie ran away?

Oh snap crimson is a physical abusive dad. Geez there some many bad dads in this show. Thankful Millie dad seems cool, while her mom just seems to be overwhelming..

Oh, so the family is losing money, and the only way for shark guy to be part of the family is for them to be married in.

“..gave a shit about you’re stupid beard.”

Ew, the gross sex toy scene….that was a weird.

OH MOXXIE IS BISEXUAL I JUST SAID THAT AS A HEADCANON GLAD THATS ACTUALLY CANON WHOOOO BI4BI MILLIE AND MOXXIE.

Ooooo 👀 Moxxie lore. So growing up, his mom try to protect Moxxie from his dad. While the dad wanted Moxxie to start training for the business at a young age. The dad was also physically abusive to the mom. HUH HOW WEIRD IT SEEMS I WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT HOW PARENTS CAN SOMETIMES BE BOTH ABUSIVE TO THEIR SPOUSES AND CHILDREN……HMMMM STELLA.

Nooooooo Moxxie’s mom is dead. And baby Moxxie has to train to be an assassin. Hmm what’s the difference between being in the mafia and being a freelance assassin? I guess one has more connections and money? But I feel like Moxxie would try to get away from the whole killing entirely? But if he train from a young age on how to kill, then it must be very hard for him to stop.

I feel like, instead of Moxxie being force to marry the shark dude to he,p the family business. Crimson would have tried to push Moxxie and Millie to have a child, to help continue the business? Also why can’t crimson just marry shark dude instead? Would it not be effective??

Blitzo trying to help his friends and finds out the truth of Chetz!!! Whooo. Moxxie also standing up to his dad!!! Whooo

Chez is dead.

Scale out of 5, I give this a 4.

#my thoughts #helluva boss critical #helluvaverse #helluva boss #long post #review #helluva boss criticism

[everlastiingiimmortals]

random assortment of physical Jing Yuan hcs!

Something people don't often expect is that Jing Yuan is much heavier than he looks, and he's already fairly tall and well built. A good chunk of his weight is dense, solid muscle. This does mean he can easily throw around his weight like a battering ram.

Despite how dense his body is, Jing Yuan can swim! Very much enjoys doing it, too, even if his hair is an utter hassle to care for afterwards. In his youth, he would jump at any excuse to strip his armor and leap into the nearest viable body of water.

Jing Yuan does not spend much time caring intensely for his hair. It is far too much work, with how long and thick his hair is. That being said, he is very particular about what type of shampoo he uses for his hair, in order to keep it plush and prevent it from frizzing. His favorite is an aloe based shampoo with an infusion of coconut and hibiscus -- it leaves his hair very soft and smooth, and he enjoys the way hibiscus smells. He usually lets his hair air dry -- though it still can take a good four hours or more to dry completely after being toweled off. Maximum gains for minimal effort!

Jing Yuan has no scars, despite his battles. No old ones at the very least. Because the Xianzhou natives are bound to return to their original state of existence (which is why prosthetics do not work for those who try a surgical correction or replacement), this means that Jing Yuan's scars swiftly fade with time. It also means that, in addition to his robustness, he heals fairly quickly! He also trains very hard to ensure his body maintains its current condition.

I mentioned it before when I first started this blog but yes, Jing Yuan does have slitted pupils, like a cat, as well as sharp canines. His fangs are prominent when he laughs hard, though they don't show much when he speaks. That being said, when he grins or smirks, his upper canines tend to poke out from his lips (like so~).

Jing Yuan's learned to make his footsteps silent. It's occurred a few times in threads, but if he does not want to be heard, you will not hear him. Likewise, it's near impossible to sneak up on him. He always seems to know when others are nearby, even if they don't make a sound at all.

In his youth all the way up to when he was a lieutenant, Jing Yuan had no qualms about being seen shirtless in public, especially after training or when spending time with Yinyue and Yingxing after swimming or roughhousing. Now, it's... much less appropriate for him to do so, and the scoldings would be far worse (Qingzu can be so scary...), so he does not. Still trains and sleeps shirtless, though.

Purrs. That's it that's the tweet.

#personal blogs dni #//about; (DIVINE FORESIGHT) #this post is brought to you by dms with starry and luna

[mareenavee]

👜😴 and 💢 for the OC asks. The emojis are evolving!

YOU KNOW WHAT I cannot for the life of me find the key for this ask. I swear I tagged it. I usually do. But even scrolling through my blog has left me without a link back. Maybe the OC emojis evolved right off the website and into the ether. If you have/find the original post, link me in a comment and I'll reblog with a real answer LOL

So I'm going to make it up to you by sharing a snippet that has something to do with the general mood those emojis convey. Perhaps in this case, being tired and annoyed after having traveled somewhere?

From Chapter 19 from, of course, my fic -- The World on Our Shoulders.

“Not everything in this world is as it seems at first glance,” Teldryn said with a shrug. It was what she had said herself, sitting right in this same seat, just yesterday. “That said, I’m going after her.”

“Just be careful, Sero,” Geldis warned. Teldryn nodded and pushed his plate away. It would be best to go pack in case she did indeed manage to get a fair way toward Tel Mithryn on her own. He was ready to go in less than ten minutes, but that was enough for his plans to change drastically. In another veritable whirlwind of ash, Nyenna was already back in the Netch, looking disheveled and furious. She stalked downstairs and tried to pass him on the way to her room, but he stopped her. She set a glowing heart stone down on the table nearby and put her hands on her hips.

“What exactly,” she asked bitterly, “does one have to do in order to not to be swarmed by these ash spawn?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in utter exasperation. “That and the damned ash storm!? I couldn’t see a thing but the Bulwark out there!”

“I see you’ve been…acquainted…with the ash wastes,” Teldryn said pointedly. She was fuming, face flushed and everything. “I happen to be an expert navigator of them.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” she said sarcastically. She gave him a disgusted glare and scooped up the heart stone she’d deposited before stalking away from him toward her room, slamming the door behind her.

“That went about as well as expected,” Geldis said with a snort.

“Give me a moment,” Teldryn sighed. He cracked his knuckles and walked over to her door. Knocked once. Then twice. Geldis only muttered under his breath and turned back to his work.

“Go away!” she said, muffled. Rude, really.

“I know someone else who can help you,” Teldryn said as evenly as he could. The door, much to his surprise, creaked open. She’d let down her hair, which frizzed wildly in every direction. She folded her arms and leveled him with an irritated stare.

“What?” she asked, still seeming a bit short-tempered.

“I’m friends with the smith in the market square. I could introduce you, and maybe he can make you a helmet or a mask or something so you can get through the ash storms more easily,” he said quickly, fully convinced she’d slam the door in his face before he finished talking. She sniffed loudly and stepped out of her room. She’d already shed the metal layer of her armor. One of her sleeves was torn straight through to her undershirt and a long, raised welt circled the exposed skin of her arm. She’d crossed paths with a netch in the storm, it seemed. He’d done that himself more than once.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Thank you. I’m not going out of town again today, anyway.” He nodded and she closed the door on him again. It was progress. He did feel a little sorry for her troubles, though. He wondered if even the guards had tried to warn her or not. Anyone out there could have seen the signs a storm was brewing. If he’d been awake, he’d have told her, at the very least, though…from what little he could discern about her, she’d probably have gone off on her own anyway. Teldryn sat at the table nearest to her room. Geldis brought over a pot of tea for her, which he wouldn’t take any coin for, even as Teldryn tried to pay for it. In a few moments, Nyenna came out of her room, torn armor in hand, and sat down heavily next to him.

“Thanks for the tea,” she said with a small nod in his direction. Her hair was pulled back away from her face now, but it was still looking pretty wild, especially without her circlet. She was wearing a mage robe with fine teal embroidery, which suited her, he thought. Teldryn cracked the tiniest of smiles and nodded back. Oh no, he wasn’t about to let Geldis take the credit for this act of kindness. This could be part of a second attempt, maybe. He watched as she poured herself a cup, and then glanced up at him and pushed the other mug and the rest of the tea toward him.

“No problem at all,” he drawled. Geldis made an affronted sound up by the bar, but busied himself with drying dishes and mugs as he usually did, and said nothing more. Teldryn waited while she began to stitch the tear in her armor sleeve with heavy black thread. Her eyebrows knit as she concentrated. Her hands moved deftly, and he noticed other similar fixes the more she turned the armor to work on it. He sipped his own tea in relative silence, until she bit the end of her thread after tying it off, and held out the sleeve to check it.

“All set,” she said. Teldryn leaned toward her and instead of moving away from him, she showed off her handiwork. “Not bad, considering the size of the…ehm…thing that I stupidly ran underneath. I can’t believe how much damage they can do when startled!”

“The netch?” Teldryn asked with a chortle.

“Yes! Honestly, I can’t believe I forgot. To be fair, I’d never seen one before. I figured if I followed the shore I’d get to Tel Mithryn without too much trouble… and then when the ash storm hit, I didn’t even know which direction I was walking. I didn’t see the thing until it was too late. Their stings really hurt, actually,” she said, rubbing her arm as if a ghost of the previous pain had flared up. “But it didn’t continue to attack me, really, it just sort of floated further out over the water with two even larger netch.”

“You were lucky they didn’t see you as a threat. Even a raging netch calf can easily kill a man in seconds. I’ve seen it,” Teldryn said somberly.

“I’d have been fine,” Nyenna said dismissively. She folded her armor. Teldryn leaned his elbows on the table and looked at her with a wry grin. She’d said that without much confidence behind it. Just a surety, like it was fact and nothing more. Like no matter what she attempted, something would bring her through it. Perhaps even if she didn’t want that to be the case. Perhaps like some kind of legendary hero…

#AskMareena #MareenaWrites #The World on Our Shoulders #Teldryn Sero #Nyenna #LDB/Teldryn Sero #Skyrim #Elder Scrolls #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fanficblr #writeblr #tesblr #Skyrim fanfiction #skyrim fanfic #skyrim fic

[runmooncake]

no offense but u got it the other way around. skin care is effiminite and thats offensive to jewish ppl.

Hello! No offense taken, I understand!

I guess what makes me scratch my head though is the implication that skincare is synonymous to women/being feminine, unless I'm misunderstanding what you're saying...? To give you some context: I originally sketched these a few years ago after a conversation I had with my dad. I was teasing him for using a 2-in-1 body wash (he still does lol) and yet he's following a 4-step AM/PM skincare routine. On the other hand, I use drugstore shampoo/conditioner and only wash my face with Cetaphil (+ face lotion or sunscreen if my skin is dry or I have to go out). That's the extent of my skincare, and I am a woman.

Now, going back to the skincare HCs: the reason I think Kyle would do that is because I always picture him as someone with low self-esteem and in need of validation...so to me, he's the one who's most likely to go an extra mile to make himself look good. He'll search for the best anti-frizz shampoo/conditioner, as well as the best skincare routine to maintain his clear skin. (edit: an anon reminded me that I forgot to add about Kyle's obsession with hygiene, I don't know why I didn't start out with that in the first place)

Whereas with Stan I just don't think he would care about that kind of stuff, but I don't think he's gross/stinky/doesn't shower or anything? Like he's not opposed to trying out things if Kyle gifts him a good shaving cream or something, but he's not going out of his way to get the good stuff himself. That said, I am actually also fond of Stan who's into haircare, so yeah!

If my posts are offensive in any way, please let me know and I don't mind taking them down.

#i apologize if i explained anything poorly because i am not good at this kind of stuff #the reason i added that blurb about their skincare is because i love the idea of kyle loving stan's simple scent #because it smells like home #(i know it's cheesy but i eat that up okay haha) #ask #anon

[hairstyleforteen]

Best Conditioner For Curly Hair

Curly hair is the best hair, of course, I mean it’s like a known fact. Anyway, I speak from personal experience, and you’ve got to be on the lookout for a good product to keep your curly hair a curlin’ because that’s what it does best. As a fellow curly, I like to keep an eye out for conditioners that’ll keep my curls shining and make sure my curls curl up and keep their beautiful shape. There have been a few times I’ve used stuff and it’ll rid me of my luscious curls and my oh my is that

1. Aveda Be Curly Conditioner

Although this particular product is part of a larger process, which is a four-step process that includes a kind of best shampoo and conditioner for curly hair. This whole thing is supposed to dramatically reduce the fizz in your hair as well as really spice up your curls by a whopping fifty-something percent added to the definition. Made with organic materials, it’s meant to open up the curls to a wave type of retraction when dried, it’s supposed to get your hair nice and beautiful. The shine factor is supposed to add a whole new dynamic to your whole outer beauty.

2. TIGI Catwalk Curls Rock Curly Hair Conditioner

They throw it at you with a whole 3-D factoring, and set it up as define, de-frizz, and detangle. They cover all you need, which isn't to say this is the best conditioner for curly hair, but this stuff will take care of basic needs. It has a nice price and isn't going to sacrifice quality. The thing about some of these conditioners is that they don’t always offer a detangle element, but this brand right here is offering a whole 3-D thing going which is catchy and cool.

3. Miss Jessie's Creme De La Creme Conditioner

This stuff is a nice creamy concoction but there’s a lightweight element to it which is great because it sure beats feeling like you're running Elmer’s glue through your hair. This stuff pulls out those hard-to-get-out tangles, and controls the frizz, and gets your wavy and or curly hair in check. After removing all those tangles you may have it leaves your hair slick and un tangly. It balances out your scalp levels with your hair and doesn't leave any sort of weighted or heavy feeling of a residue or anything of the sort on your head.

4. Davines Love Curl Enhancing Conditioner

From word of mouth or many reviews, this stuff packs a wallop in the hair treatment world. It’s generally a leave-in conditioner you want to apply after a shower, and it’s supposed to control your curly hair and get it looking stunning for all your aesthetic escapades. It's a thicker cream and you usually want to do it on the days after you shampoo your hair because that’s when it can dive deep into the pores of your scalp and open up your hair allowing it to take in all the nutrients that are in this stuff. It smells pretty strong and is like I said a thicker formula, so it may feel like it stays in there even under a session of hardcore scrubbing and rinsing.

5. Carol's Daughter Hair Milk Original Leave

In Moisturizer for Unisex - Something they like to mention which is nice information which is that dry hair ultimately leads to frizzy curls and that’s where they find a niche for their product, they tackle that individual problem we all fight against. This product is a leave-in product and it a lightweight and known to solve the problem they present pretty well. Made from all-natural ingredients, it’s great to know that they're worried about you being worried about the ingredients going into your scalp. Feels like you've got a friend there to help with your hair.

Conclusion

Overall I’m personally a big fan of the Aveda because I’ve used it and they live up to what they’re presenting. It’s going to come down to how much you're looking to spend because the whole process isn't always about conditioning, you always have to set your head up for success. Read the full article

#featured

[hurgablurg]

Man, i just made the mistake of watching alex bale or whatever'se theory videos. well two of them anyways. and they're both just edgy baby's-first-non-coma-dream-film-theory ideas that just borrow from OTHER SHIT, and made me audibly fucking groan.

I dont even need to deign separate paragraphs for them. Thats how banal they are, how much they suck. His "pixar metaverse theory" is LITERALLY JUST WHO CENSORED/FRAMED ROGER RABBIT?, including the toon racism and hollywood abuse! All he did was add "oh they're clones too" because he watched rick and morty and the idea of expendability and insignificance as horror blew his balls off. His magic schoolbus theory, meanwhile, is that the Frizz is somehow cloning the same schoolchildren for lethal school fieldtrips. Which you might notice, is the exact same as the pixar one, but Oooh this one has child death as well. Seems to me he had one idea and remixed it. What a fucking beacon of original and critical thought.

And that apparently rubs off on his fans too, because I look in the comment section and lo and behold

That's. That's literally just the "The Frizz is Arnold from the future after transitioning because she's a cool science wizard maintaining the continuum of time and also inspiring kids to love science" but CIS-WASHED and EDGIFIED as a "dark obsession".

And bale can't even present it in an original format either! He tries to ape the "rabbithole into desperation" angle from SuperEyepatchWolf, the "banal information leading up to a shocking reveal" of HBomberguy, the constant stop-and-start baiting of Matpat, and probably others that I'm just not seeing right away. And he does not stick the landing on any of them.

Original thought is dead in clickbait. Do not make my mistake and sit through it. I hope he shits himself into a bed-ridden fever-epiphany from some expired milk and he goes on to do something worthwhile with his life.

#alex bale #youtube #theorizing #truly bottom-of-the-barrel shit

[saturnsummer]

impatient

When Jiho and Sol B find themselves in a questionable situation.

aka: if jiho and solb had a one night stand.

ao3 link

notes: all credits to @ohcoolnice @sxfik !! i’m taking a spin on a one night stand jisolb edition, which originally came from a solhwi one night stand idea. feeding the jisolb nation with this spicy one shot. it’s my first time writing a more mature piece, so do bear with me! i’ll continue to learn and grow! once again, editing, grammar and incorrect facts will be taken responsible by me! thank you for the love and support, feel free to suggest prompts and more!

rating: mature! implications of sex, definitely steamy and spicy. 

(as promised, tagging the fam that went nuts: @ohcoolnice @sxfik @affablewritesfables @cathartichaoss )

words: 3166 words

Ouch.

Jiho hated hangovers. He hated how he would repeat his mistakes over and over again, chugging back the glasses and shots of alcohol. Each time, he would remind himself not too much. But he would throw that advice out the window when he chases his high.

The warm sun rays of his window filter in through the sheer curtains as he squints his eyes closed, grabbing the sheets and pulling them over his head. God, he really hates hangovers. He can’t even remember what happened last night, and he didn’t really want to at the moment.

Realising the sun was not going to go away, he grunts in frustration, before getting up and propping himself upright with his arm. The bed was messy, and he knew something was off. Of the many times he came home drunk, his bed was never this messy. Ever.

And that is also when he realises he’s naked underneath his black sheets. Strange, he’s never really gone to bed naked. He had the habit of putting on a pair of boxer shorts, for sure, but he doesn’t remember getting naked.

A throbbing pain stops his train of thought as he groans from his headache, slowly getting up to find a pair of sweatpants for him to wear before getting his hangover cure of painkillers. He needed to order some spicy jjamppong as well. And he’s definitely not going to work on his reports today.

Just as he runs his fingers through his hair and opens the door, he’s greeted with the sight of someone already in his house. Seated by the dining table and chair, with a mug of hot steaming coffee and in an oversized grey T-shirt, her hair was long, slightly messy and her eyes were clearly still sleepy.

There, in all her glory sits his rival, Kang Sol B.

Sol was up just a good ten minutes before him, in the same state that he was in. A moment of confusion, before realising that across from her, one arm draped loosely around her bare stomach was Seo Jiho. Not wanting to wake him up and send him into a state of panic, she chose to crawl out of bed and grabbed the first thing she sees: his grey shirt.

She brewed herself a cup of coffee and made an additional one for him, knowing how he would need this. She nurses her headache and recollects her memories, before muttering curses to herself as her memories come back bit by bit. When the door opens to see a shirtless, well toned Jiho in his sweatpants and disheveled hair, she locks eyes with him and the puzzle pieces fall into place over last night.

The memories of last night suddenly come hitting back at him like a bullet train, as his eyes meet hers and he can only blink back in shock. He doesn’t even care that she’s in his house, or that he’s shirtless. He’s suddenly thrown back hours before.

The memories of them drinking with their friends to celebrate Joon Hwi’s promotion as well as Seungjae’s having a second child comes back. How he kept knocking shot after shot back. How his rival was one moment next to him, the next moment in his arms. How he was attempting to bring her home, but she was quick to kiss him, and he was already enjoying it too much to say no.

How one moment they were kissing on the couch, and the next in the bedroom, and the next…

Jiho was stumped. Did he really just have a one night stand with his rival? Kang Sol B? Still standing by his door, he grabs his glasses from the edge of the table, fumbling with it out of nervousness and slips it on as naturally as he can. Sol doesn’t look away, but only slides another steaming mug to him when he sits across from her. They both sit in silence for a bit as Jiho takes scalding sips while he processes his hangover and his memories.

“How are you feeling?” Sol asks, her manicured fingers drumming the side of the mug. She notices the way he bites his lip, the same way he does when he’s nervous. The way his hair was messy from his pillow, it was so different from the man she knew since middle school. As best as she could, she tried not to look at his toned abs, as she remembers running her fingers up and down those muscles last night.

“Terrible. You?” Jiho simply replies, too nervous to say anything else.

“Feels worse than the time after the mock trial.” She says, taking another long sip. Another silence ensues. Jiho unconsciously bites his lower lip, and Sol feels her heart skip a beat.

She’s used to his habits, how he clicks his tongue when he’s thinking. The drumming of his fingers. How he adjusts his round glasses every five minutes. Yet, she has never noticed the way that she feels whenever she catches him doing it. She has never noticed how her heart flutters when he leans over to her to grab a paper, or to glance at her report.

“You remember everything?” Jiho finally asks. Sol looks up at him, thoughts suddenly cleared as she takes another sip of coffee to collect her thoughts. She closes her eyes, the way she does when she’s thinking, leaving Jiho in a moment of silence, and observance.

Jiho notices the way her hair is so messy, it’s so unlike the Sol he knows. Her jet black hair not styled and straightened, the morning frizz just taking effect and her hair knotted made her look so different than the judge in the courtroom he was so used to. Her small frame hidden away with his big grey shirt, yet her slim collarbones are showing and the neckline so low and big, one of her shoulders are exposed.

Jiho was sure that the alcohol had worn off. So why do the words ‘cute’ and ‘sexy’ resonate with her now? Why does he find the way that she bites her lip when she’s thinking about her schoolwork cute back in school? Why was he always flustered whenever she looked at him? Why will his heart skip whenever she brushes his hand or arm?

Did he… have feelings for her?

“Most of it, I think.” Sol’s reply brings his thoughts back down. Sol brings her hand back and combs her mid back length hair back. She outgrew her short hair styles when she graduated school, and has stuck to growing it out ever since she moved out of her home. Jiho can’t help but notice the way the shirt exposes her shoulder and collarbones, he wants to throw a jacket on top right away.

“I… I’m sorry, for last night. I probably should have been more sober and brought you home, not to mine.” Jiho blurts out, fumbling with his glasses again, his hand pushing them up and naturally combing his bed hair back. Sol doesn’t say anything, but just scoffs.

“No use apologising now, don’t you think?” Her voice comes out harsh, but Jiho is used to it. That was her, after all. And Jiho could tell the slightest differences between each tone. Jiho only leans back on his chair, and shuts his eyes for a moment, letting his head tilt back. Sol tries her best not to stare at his muscles, and the way he shifts his glasses up. All she’s thinking is how hot her rival looks in front of her, and how everything about this feels wrong.

“Was it…your first?” Jiho asks, his eyes still closed. He dares not face Sol if she says yes, and he dares not face her if she says no either. He rather wishes to disappear. Only, she returns a light scoff.

“What, you scared?” She mocks. Jiho’s eyes open slowly, and Sol is there with a mocking smirk on her face, almost in amusement. Jiho feels almost fluttery and giddy from her smirk.

“I’m just asking. It’s not mine, I can tell you that.” Jiho bluntly says. Well, it was true. He’s never had serious relationships before, but he did have a couple of casual relationships in the years after graduating Hankuk. It was always bland, though. Never enough time to meet, and the sparks died the same month they met.

“It’s not mine either.” Sol admits to Jiho. Sol wasn’t lying, either. She was never one for serious long term relationships, being so driven by her career. But men kept chasing after her, and she attempted a few flings that mostly landed with one night stands. It never went any further, and she knew that they just wanted her for her body. Ever since, she hasn’t been on dates. This time, Jiho scoffs. Sol hears it and her face darkens.

“What?”

“I never thought you would be like this. I always thought you were so pure.” Jiho says, the taunting smile on his lips. Sol knows that smile. It was the smile from last night, the one he gave her that drove her right over the edge. The one smile that she finds herself so utterly helpless against.

“Well, I’m sure last night I provided enough evidence to support that.” Sol says, leaning forward slightly, eyes darkened. Jiho loves her eyes, the way they change and sparkle, but also how mysterious and dark they are. Two could play this game, Sol thinks to herself.

The both of them lock their eyes for a moment, the tension in the air heightened.

Jiho’s certain he wants her. He wants her, like how he wanted her last night. The entire sight of her was enough to bring him down. Her messy hair falling into her face, the way his shirt drapes loosely around her. He wanted to feel her and caress every spot he hasn’t touched. He wanted to ravish her, to taste her, to mark her as his. To show her that she’s his, and no one else’s.

Sol was equally brought back to last night. How she loved the smirk he gave her, how gentle he is. How good he made her feel, till she was out of breath and dizzy. But yet, it felt so wrong to feel this way. They were friends, classmates. She wasn’t even certain if she liked him for being Seo Jiho, or for the sex itself. She just felt so wrong to want a man to please her like how she felt last night.

Sol breaks her eye contact first, a red blush creeping up to her face. Grabbing her phone nearby, she scrolls through to try and book a taxi.

“I’m sorry, I should go.” She says, as she wants to get up. Jiho brings his hand up to her arm and sets her down back on the chair.

“You’re leaving in this?” Jiho says. Sol looks down, embarrassed and admits defeat. Her clothes from last night reeked of alcohol, and there was no way she was going home in those.

“I’ll drive you home later. Let’s get some jjamppong to eat first.” Jiho says, shifting his glasses up and clicking two orders of jjamppong from his phone. Sol instinctively grabs their two mugs of coffee and brings them to the kitchen to wash.

Jiho watches as she washes the mugs from the glass panel of the kitchen. When she returns, Jiho shifts himself closer to her. They sit in silence for a moment, before Sol breaks her silence.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sol admits. Jiho knows what she means, and of which, he rebuts.

“Why?”

“We’re… we’re not a couple. I don’t want you to get lead on, and sour our friendship.” Sol says, her hand sweeping her hair back again. God, that move, Jiho thinks. She stands up abruptly, pacing from her chair to the wall nearby.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” Jiho says, stopping Sol in her tracks. He continues on, while taking slow steps towards her.

“I realised way too late just how much I love you. And you’re not going to lead me. Because I’ve already fallen for you, Your Honor.” He says, now closing the distance between both of them. He brings a hand up to Sol’s hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. Sol hitches a breath, as she feels his fingers.

“Kang Sol, I, Seo Jiho, love you.” Jiho slowly leans in, giving her enough time to push him or dodge if she wanted to. But Sol doesn’t move and only lets him kiss her. She feels his soft lips, as they dance together, her hands finally letting it glide over those abs she’s been staring at the whole day. She’s thrown back to the previous night, remembering how she did this too.

Jiho tastes the coffee on her lips and hers. He loves the way she tastes, how perfect his hand rests on her hips, the other hand snaking under his shirt to feel the bare skin. She shudders as his fingers glide over her thighs, but only kisses harder from the feeling.

“You love me?” Sol asks between those kisses as his hand comes into contact with her hip bone, rubbing it lightly. Her hands trail to his waist, pulling him closer to her and taking steps back, such that she’s leaned against the wall.

“I do. Ever since law school.” He growls back and sweeps her hair back from falling into her face. He bites and nibbles on her lip, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips, before she gently sucks on his.

Pulling away to catch her breath, Sol hates how she’s given in to the man in front of her. She stares deep into his eyes, as she thinks back to the years they spent in school. Had all the meals they shared together, all the one-on-one study sessions and all the reports she’s willingly helped him in just really out of pure friendship? Has she been so blind to her feelings?

“Still think it’s a bad idea?” His voice is so raspy and breathy from all the kissing, she can’t help but feel so lusted. In response, she only dives in for another kiss, thumbs gliding over his muscles, savouring it under her touch.

Jiho smirks under her kiss, as he shifts his attention to her jaw and neck, leaving a trail of light kisses. He thanks the shirt now, leaving a whole side of her collarbone and shoulder exposed along with her neck. Peppering her with kisses, he finds her sensitive spot when she gives an audible gasp as his lips brush through.

“Ji-Jiho...” She hates how whiny she sounds, how her voice is so breathy as she holds him closer to her. But she wants it. She wants him so bad. She wants him like how he was last night.

“You look so good dressed in my shirt… God, you’re such a tease.” He whispers softly, before lightly sucking on her spot. Sol is slowly giving in, as a sound of pleasure escapes her lips, eyes closed.

“Don’t leave a mark there...” Her voice so soft and gentle, unlike the other times he’s heard them. It’s the first time he's heard her so vulnerable and weak. The air between them was so hot, and it didn’t help that Jiho could feel the bulge in his sweatpants slowly forming.

“So you’re letting me mark you, Your Honor?” Jiho teases, the same smirk that he knows Sol is weak to on his face when he looks at her. But Jiho is equally weak to her pleasured face, the way she bites her lip. His fingers rub on a sweet spot on her hips and she rolls her head back, nodding in response. She’s so needy and she can't wait any longer.

Taking it as a go, he attaches his mouth on a spot of her collarbone, sucking lightly and gently, as her whines fall from her mouth. He moves on from spot to spot, nibbling on the skin of some. Sol’s face is red from the heat, and she only palms Jiho’s head, guiding him to the spots she loves. Jiho leaves a trail of bites along her collarbone and her shoulder, but leaves one on her neck for good measure.

Pulling away, he locks his lust filled eyes to find Sol’s eyes equally drunk on lust. He knows he has fallen in love with her with the way she rivals him. It was opposites attract, how he’s always chasing up to her, and sometimes it’s her who’s chasing him. How she was silently there during his low moments. Their physical attention was just another confirmation of how Jiho needs her in his life.

Sol finally accepts the suppressed feelings she’s locked away. She’s been so caught up in her career, from breaking free from her mother’s fingers, she’s forgotten that she had a life, that she was more than just a puppet with her mother pulling the strings. She had feelings for Seo Jiho. More than the way he makes her feel, she fell in love with the persistence he had to clear his father’s name. His entire being comforted her, knowing how it felt to grow up in her mother’s palm.

“I... I love you too.” She whispers back a whisper so soft, she almost feels giddy from all the kissing. Jiho gives a rare smile, almost delighted to know she feels the same, and she manages to give one back.

Diving in for another kiss, Jiho takes the next step further, letting his hand glide on her thigh before going up to her hip and slowly crawling up her toned stomach. Sol was no stranger to such teases, as she sucked on his lips, her leg sliding up and down his inner thigh. Jiho audibly groans in the kiss and Sol loves how she’s taken control.

“Excited, are we?” he growls. Sol only smirks in reply, her hands reaching to the waistband of his pants, feeling the V-shape of his hip bone. Jiho only groans in pleasure, watching as the girl in front of him could be so controlling in a matter of seconds.

“You could speak for yourself, Prosecutor Seo.” And that was all Jiho needed before he fully decided to ravish her in his bedroom. Sol wanted it herself as she continuously teased him by pulling on his drawstrings or letting her fingers slip over the waistband.

But they pull apart, when the doorbell rings, signalling the arrival of their hangover food.

Jiho pulls apart, not wanting to let her go and Sol’s hands still rest on his waistband, a finger fingering the band. Jiho reluctantly pulls her hand away, collecting their food and letting it sit on the table. With one fluid sweep, Jiho picks the younger girl into his arms and shuts the door to his bedroom.

The jjampong could wait. But they couldn't.

#law school #jtbc law school #jtbc drama #netflix #jtbc #seo jiho #kang sol b #jisolb #kang sol b x seo ji ho #law school kdrama #kdrama #lee david #lee sookyung #slightly mature #steamy #spicy #implied sex #one night stand #original by akinosakiya

[liquidheartbeat]

She Didn’t Choose This Life: Flashback

Barry’s fork and knife clink loudly against his plate, as he scoots his chair backward, hands perched on his inflated abdomen. “God, I am stuffed,” he says, already regretting finishing off four T-bone steaks and all the rich, decadent sides that rounded off the meal. 

From across the table, the eyes of the woman responsible for his predicament widen, as she cuts into her barely-touched steak. “Oh, really?” Iris asks, chuckling.

“What?” Barry asks, tilting his body forward. 

“Well, we’ve been dating for almost a year and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you full. Like actually satiated.”

Barry chuckles as he nods, slight unease shooting through him. It’s a simple explanation, really, but he can’t tell her that being The Flash has increased his caloric requirements, because he hasn’t figured out how to tell her that he is the Flash.

And it’s not because he doesn’t want to, it’s because, everytime he scrounges up the courage, he finds out another unsavory secret about her lifestyle. 

When they first met, she’d introduced herself as an art buyer, but conveniently left out the part about also international money laundering. That discovery had come months later, in the dead of night, when she’d slipped out of the bedroom for a phone call with one of her partners but wasn't nearly as quiet as she’d thought.

Of course, that led him down a rabbit hole where he also found out about the tax fraud and other financial crimes that would put her away for life if she was ever caught. Crimes that, if committed by anyone else, he’d gladly help prosecute as a member of the police department. But she’s not anyone else, she’s Iris, the first woman he’s ever fallen completely, wholeheartedly in love with. 

And yes, her misdeeds probably should make him love her less, but his heart doesn’t abide by common sense. Even from across the table, as she hides a lifetime of secrets under her smile, he knows the same lips that lie to him about her whereabouts and the source of her wealth tell sweet truths to him in the middle of the night. About how much she loves him and needs him. 

The same hands that gleefully count dirty money, help massage away aches she doesn’t know the truth origins of at night. The same hands that consort with criminals bring his body to romantic peaks, over and over again. 

And the same eyes that stare into him before he leaves her apartment each morning, connect with his soul, and let him know her love is real. 

As real as his is. 

“Barr,” she says sweetly, as she dabs butter from the corner of her mouth. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” He asks, snapped back to the present. 

“I said...I’m glad you enjoyed dinner, because it’ll probably be a few more months before I sweat out my hair to cook again,” she says as she stands to gather her half-empty plate and glass. 

Barry laughs, gathering his hands on the table as she walks over to the counter. “It’s a shame a cook as good as you hates it so much.”

Iris returns to the table, walking over to where he’s sat. “I don’t hate it, it’s just time consuming, and my jobs…”She pauses, playing off her flub with a smile, “I mean job ...is very demanding. Doesn’t leave much time to cook.”

Barry frowns, nodding slowly. Another lie, and an unnecessary one at that. But she doesn’t notice his disappointment as she gathers his empty plate and saucers. “If I wasn’t with you,” she continues as she walks his dishes to the sink,” I probably wouldn’t cook at all.”

His smile returns slowly -- a truth, however small, makes him feel special. “Oh, really?” 

“Pretty sure. But my man likes to eat,” she says with a smile as she turns towards him, “So I have to oblige him from time to time.”

“So you cook...just for me?”

“Duh.” As she nears him, she pushes her slightly frizzy hair behind her ears,.

“Well, what else are you willing to do just for me?” He asks, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent as she stands over him.

Iris rolls her eyes fondly. He’s so stinking cute, extra cute when he’s confident, but she doesn’t have time. Not tonight. 

After their dinner, she has another engagement with a potential business partner that could potentially double her income for the year. Of course, she can’t tell Barry that. He’s a sweet, by the book CSI, who definitely won’t take kindly to her extracurricular activities.  

Shaking her head fondly, she steps backward, but he catches her by the skin of her flowy cotton top and pulls her into his lap. “Barry,” she protests, but only for a moment because his hand shoots to the base of her head and guides her open mouth down towards him. 

For a skinny guy, he’s way stronger than his physical makeup should allow for. He effortlessly twists her legs around his waist, and pushes their bodies together. But she doesn’t question it. She embraces it, moaning harshly as he kneads her ass in his hands. 

They haven’t had sex in a few days, and not just because of her schedule. He works long -- sometimes odd -- hours. But she assumes it’s par for the course, for a CSI. And she’s this close to putting on a show for her kitchen appliances, especially as he slinks his fingers towards the seat of her cotton shorts, dipping one near her slit. But that little touch of pleasure snaps her back to reality. Dinner and a little makeout sesh is the only thing she can offer him tonight. 

“Barr,” she breathes, as she catches his hand. But he’s defiant as he curls his finger against her.“I can’t,” she whimpers. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I gotta...prepare for work tomorrow.”

He lets out a loud sigh, face wrinkling in dissatisfaction. It’s a look she's becoming increasingly familiar with, appearing any time she mentions work. 

It should strike her as odd, but doesn’t. “Oh, babe,” she says with a pout, as she runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t be mad, please.”

He sighs again. “I’m not mad. I’m…” Disappointed. Wish you would tell me the truth , “ he thinks, but he actually says: “Upset. You've been ‘working’ so much lately. And Friday nights are supposed to be our uninterrupted time.”

Iris pouts, hating when she disappoints him. Hating that she has to keep such a huge part of herself from him. Of all the men she’s ever dated, no one has ever made her feel as loved, as safe, as desirable as Barry Allen. 

And yet, she feels she doesn’t fully deserve the love he gives so easily. Love -- true love -- isn’t shrouded in secrecy and shadow lives. But what will he think of her if he finds out who she really is? 

Just cancelling an overnight date has him looking like she punctured his lungs, and she can barely stand it. Biting her lip, to quell the trembling, she brings her other hand up, and rests them on his shoulders. 

He’s so tight and fraught with tension, and her touch seems to intensify it. God, he’s really mad at her. She tilts her head, managing a soft smile as her hands move in tandem across his shoulder blade, increasing the pressure as she moves. His eyes flutter closed, defiantly, her hands attempting to squeeze the displeasure from his body. And then she leans down, pressing a soft kiss just underneath his earlobe. “I promise, I will make this up to you,” she says, softly, “Okay?”

She lifts her head up to meet his face, still rife with displeasure.

“When?”

“Tomorrow-- promise.” In actuality, she has another client meeting tomorrow, but it doesn’t have as much riding on it. And she can’t possibly stand to see Barry look at her like this twice in one week. So she’ll have to reschedule.

“Fine,” he agrees.

Iris smiles, and thumbs his chin, happy for the compromise. “Thank you, baby, for being so understanding. I’ll make it worth your while.”

"Any time with you is worth my while,” he says earnestly, his words nearly drawing tears to the surface of her eyes. 

But she sniffs, hoping to keep them at bay. She can’t close this deal if she’s an emotional mess. And then she smiles, offering him one last kiss for the night. 

Though the need in his return drags one kiss into four, five, and six kisses. At least until she manages to snap her neck backward and pry herself from his lap. 

As she stands, she fixes her clothes, which almost ended up in a pile on the floor. Her eyes catch the time on the clock and she realizes she has less than 25 minutes to get ready before her business meeting. 

“So,” she says, casually, “Do you want me to walk you down to the lobby?”

“No, that’s alright,” Barry says as he stands. “Unless you want me to beg you to change your mind in front of your neighbors.”

Iris laughs softly. “No, definitely not.”

Barry stills, taking in the sight of her. She projects an effortless beauty, even with no makeup, slightly frizzed hair and pajama shorts. He takes a step forward and leans down to kiss her on the cheek, knowing that if he aims for her lips, he might not be able to stop himself. 

And while he’s not happy she’s working on a Friday night, at least she’s cleared Saturday for them. She leans up into his kiss, softly palming his shoulders with her hands. When they part, she holds his gaze. 

Two beautiful, chestnut brown eyes looking up at him sweetly. “I love you,” she says softly. 

His response is effortless. “I love you too -- now, tomorrow. Forever and ever. 

She squeezes her hands together excitedly, and does a little sidestep. It’s an obvious attempt to make fun of his saccharine tone, but he doesn’t mind -- in fact, he welcomes it, shaking his head from side to side. 

“Anyway,” he says through a growing smile, “I’m going to head out, and let you handle your business.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“Just please... be careful. I don’t know what I’ll do if  something happens to you.”

His words are weighted with hard truths she doesn’t yet know he knows, yet his tone still uneases her. “What could possibly happen?” She asks, feigning obliviousness. “I have like the safest job in the world.”

He sighs, loud and hard, but goes forward with her charade anyway. “By the time you return from the museum, it’ll probably be really late. Dangerous. You have to be careful.”

“Oh,” she says, eyes widening. Of course, he thinks she’s going to the museum. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be careful.”

“You are going to the museum, right?”

She pauses, just long enough for him to prepare for the lie to come.

“Uhh...yeah.”

His brows furrow as he crosses his arms across his chest. “Are you sure?”

She forces out a laugh, hoping to quell his rising concern. Because if she doesn’t get him out of here now, her entire evening will fold. 

“Yeah. I’m sure.” She smiles fluttering her eyelashes “Come on, honey. I gotta get ready.”

He takes a moment to contemplate whether or not to call out her obvious lie, but ultimately decides against it. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She smiles wider. “Bright and early,” she says, as she glances at the clock, growing wearier of his presence. 

“Yeah,” he deadpans, out of options. “Bright and early…”  

************************

  Five minutes later, Barry swivels absentmindedly in his office chair, chewing on the dead skin of his thumb. Caitlin, who’s been watching his skittish display, glances over to Cisco, who pretends he doesn't notice her pleading gaze. Eventually, he sighs and begrudgingly casts down the chain of sour straws he’s snacking on, and scoots forward. 

“Dude. Just go talk to your girlfriend," he replies, voice filled with disdain. 

Barry shoots him a warning glance, in no mood to deal with his best friend's judgement over his choice of partner.  “Don’t.”

“Fine.” Cisco throws his hands up. “Then do...that...all night. But I’m going home.”

Barry sighs. When it comes to his relationship, talking to Cisco is like talking to a brick wall. He turns to Caitlin, hoping his other best friend can offer some advice.” Caitlin stews in silence a moment, carefully gathering her words. The things Barry uncovered about Iris are damning, and a stark contrast to the straight-laced businesswoman persona she presents outwardly. But she’s also seen the way Iris looks at him, those rare moments they all hang out, like he hung the moon just for her with his bare hands. 

Yet, still, she has to ask:  “Do you think she could be seeing someone else?” Her words are careful, knowing how touchy of a subject this is.

Barry huffs. Almost offensively. “No.” At least he hopes. “But she’s definitely still lying about her plans for tonight. Probably another dirty deal she doesn’t want me finding out about.”

Unable to resist, Cisco presses a hand into his chest. “Iris West? A LIAR?” He gasps.  “You don’t say.”

Barry shoots up from his chair, a second away from lunging at Cisco but Caitlin blocks him with her body. “Cisco. Please,” she scolds him backwards, gently pushing Barry in the chest.

That seems to calm him, as he flops back into his seat with a sigh. But Cisco pushes forward.

“Cool it, Cait. Alright. I’m not the one who’s leading on our best friend -- she is.”

“She’s not leading me on!” Barry yells, scooting to the edge of the chair. “She’s just…”

“...Not just an art dealer,  apparently, not in good standing with the IRS -- or at least she won’t be--and in no danger of becoming a Girl Scout troop leader. Or a nun either,” Cisco retorts.

Barry shrugs, unphased by his recounting of events. “So she’s not perfect. But I have my own secrets. “

“Yeah. You’re the Flash, but, she's a criminal, who lies to you constantly. About what she does, where she goes. How many times, since you found out, have you had to save her from the trouble she’s gotten into?”

Barry sighs; he’s almost lost count of the number of times Flash has scooped Iris from the pits of danger, during a business deal gone bad. Shadowy figures, unrelated to her business dealings, looming in dark alleys after she’s left some abandoned building, scorned men whose pockets she’d bled dry, but who couldn't pursue legal action due to their own dirty dealings, who took things into their own hand. 

One by one, he’d laid out anyone who crossed her path and had the audacity to even breathe at her wrong, which all amounted to silent acknowledgement between her and Flash. Because she damn sure hadn’t told him -- Barry Allen -- about these chance meetings. 

Another reason he had to be cautious around her. She held her cards too close to her chest. 

Cisco takes in a sharp breath. “I just want better for you man. You deserve someone who doesn’t lie to you.”

Barry holds Cisco’s gaze. “She might be a liar, but when she tells me she loves me, it’s not a lie. And because of that, I can’t just throw away our relationship -- we can get past this. I know it.”

Cisco rolls his eyes and twirls his hair round and round his finger. “Whatever.”

Caitlin, who’s grown tired of Cisco’s negativity, faces him. “If you’re not going to offer Barry any understanding, you should probably excuse yourself.”

“Fine,” he says as he shoots up, “’I‘ll go.” But when Barry finds out something else about Iris that he can't handle, I can’t be the person he vents to anymore. ” He pauses and turns towards his friend, who’s struggling to bite his tongue. “It hurts to see you like this, man.”

With that, Cisco makes his exit, leaving just Barry and Caitlin in the room. Awkward silence fills the space he leaves, as those little stubborn nuggets of rationale, in between Cisco’s snark, tries to penetrate his brain. 

Slowly he looks up at Caitlin, a fervent lea in his eyes. “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you and Iris need to have a talk. A long talk, about what you know about her. How dangerous this game she’s playing is. But most importantly, what you need from her, going forward if you’re going to work, romantically. Which I imagine is total transparency.”

Barry nods slowly, taking in her advice. These are things he already knows he’ll eventually have to do, but he still still isn’t ready, He doesn’t know how Iris will take him knowing the truth about her, and he’s not ready to deal with any potential fallout.  “You're right,” he says, the only answer he can scrounge up. “I wish you weren't, but you are.”

Caitlin tilts her head sympathetically, unspoken words fighting to be free. 

“What?” “

  “You….also... need to tell her you’re the Flash. I know, you have reservations. But if you’re willing to stay with her, through all she’s doing, she deserves to know who you are as well.”

Barry sighs, letting his head fall into his hands. There’s a universe of lies between them, and he worries their relationship is too new to handle such added weight. But he can’t continue to live like this, and can’t let her continue to live like this. They’re either going to be together, without secrets, or...He pauses, unable to let the rest of the sentence form in his head, then shoots up. “Okay. I’m going,”  he says, finally. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Goo-,” Caitlin starts, but he’s gone in a flash of lightning, before she can finish her statement.

  ************************

Iris steps out of her bathroom, with barely a minute to spare before Randolf Helming, the owner of the Helming Hotel chain arrives. He’s looking to cut his tax bill in half, by funneling some of his cash into a few high end art pieces, and he thinks Iris can assist him. What he doesn’t know is that the pieces she’s going to sell him are forgeries that only 1/10 art experts can spot. So she’ll pocket his commission for her time and also the value of the real paintings she’ll sell again to an unsuspecting schulub, later in the year.

Probably to some secluded older gentlemen, who buys art for social prestige, thousands of miles away in Prague or Berlin.

A hefty journey to travel, but a necessary trip if she’s going to do better at covering her tracks. Over the past few months, some of her old dealings have started to catch up to her, and she’s had more than her fair share of brush ups. 

Oddly, though also fortunately, enough, she was saved each time by Central City’s guardian angel: The Flash. Though, at this point, it almost felt like he was her own personal angel, always seeming to be in the right place when she was in the wrong place.

She’d think it strange if not for the multitudes of people he saves everyday. 

As she makes her way into the living room, she takes one last look at her appearance in the big mirror hanging over her fireplace. Her previously frizzed hair has been tamed into a low pony-tail, and her face has been painted with a light dusting of makeup. But it’s her attire, a chic red, high-waisted skirt and black fitted blazer blazer that's sure to wow any potential business partner. 

A knock at the door pulls Iris away from her thoughts. She pulls at her skirt, not wanting to give Randolf the wrong idea -- she might be dressed to the nines, but this is not a romantic engagement; she has to work to do-- then waltzes over to the door. 

“Mr. Helming “ Iris says warmly, as she opens the door. “I’m glad you could make it.” 

The silver haired man, who hovers around around 5’10 and is dressed in a light gray suit, lets his eyes travel unabashedly down Iris’s body before he greets her. “It is my pleasure, Ms. West.”

He takes a huge step into the apartment, nearly brushing his body against hers. Uncomfortable with the closeness, Iris steps backward, letting out a nervous chuckle. She doesn’t usually entertain her clients -- legitimate or otherwise -- in her home, but she figures that someone as high profile as Mr. Helming has too much to lose to act out of turn.

Still, the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention as her attempt to create distance does nothing to soften his gaze. “Well,” she says, running her hand over her hair, “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Oh, yes,” he mimics, seemingly remembering the reason for his visit. “Business. Lets.”

Iris smiles politely and steps aside to give him ample room to enter further. He strides past her, and heads for the couch, taking in the sight of her place as he walks. “Wow. The art world has treated you quite, well, huh?”

Returning from closing the door, Iris walks over, proudly. “Yeah, I guess you can say that."

At the couch, Randolph takes a seat in the middle of her cream colored sofa, and spreads both arms across the back. Iris, who was gearing up to take a seat next to him, pivots and takes a seat in the black recliner sitting adjacent to the couch. 

He frowns and scoots his body towards the end nearest to the chair, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort.  

“So. I hear you’re trying to lessen your tax burden,” Iris says, diving straight into business."

“Yeah.” He crosses one leg over the other. “My hotels are doing well. But as it goes, I owe the government 10s of millions this year in taxes and so I need a tax write off. And a big one.”

Iris smiles. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I just so happen to have a direct connection to the Murdock Estate, who handles affairs for the late oil painter, M.N. Murdoch. They’re looking to unload a couple of pieces for the right buyer.”

“And when you say right…”

“Well, aside from the assets to afford the seven figure price tag, they’re deadset on selling it to an astute businessman -- someone who understands the value of fine art.” But who can’t tell a forgery from a real pieces.

He nods, pleased with her response. “Well, let’s see these paintings.”

Iris pulls her phone from her pocket, and opens up the PGN files of the paintings, still on display at the Central City Art Museum and hands it over to Mr. Helming. He takes the phone, finger sliding haphazardly across the screen, sending him back to her home screen. 

“Oops,” he chuckles.  I clicked off of the screen. Can you fix it?”

“Of course.” Iris reaches for the phone. As he releases it, his fingers graze over hers, sending a wicked chill through her. 

His skin is somehow cool, yet sweaty at the same time. Iris draws her fingers in awkwardly as she retrieves the phone and reset the screen. From the corner of her eyes, she sees him wipe his palms on his pants leg. Her return is smoother; managing to hand over the phone without making skin to skin contact. 

Randolf takes a moment to look over the pieces, genuine contemplation painting his face. His concentration on the task at hand eases her growing anxiety a tad, though the silence that settles over the room still tickles her nerves.

She glances over to the table, where the unfinished bottle of wine she and Barry had for dinner sits, and her mouth nearly waters for a glass. But she doesn’t drink while doing business -- at least not this kind.

When she looks back over to Randolf, he’s done with her phone and also eyeing the wine. “I could go for a glass, myself,” he says over a prickly laugh. 

Iris opens her mouth to respond, then realizing no words are coming out, pushes out a choked response. “Right.  Of course. Is Merlot okay?”

He nods. “That’s just fine. Though, if you have something a little stronger, I wouldn't object.”

"No,” she says quickly. “Just the Merlot -- I’m not much of a drinker.” She stands and smoothes down her skirt, and walks across her living room, towards the kitchen. 

Iris had already cleaned up from dinner, so she goes to the cabinet to retrieve two wine glasses. Even though she doesn't drink on the job, she has to at least pretend to indulge him if she wants to close the deal. 

Glasses in hand, she turns for the island and lets out a loud shriek when she notices Randolf is standing just feet away, at the other side. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you walk over,” she quickly offers towards his slightly offended expression. 

“Oh.” He relaxes some. “I am quite light on my feet -- blame my wife.”

Iris quirks a curious brow. “Your wife?”

“Ballroom dancing,” he says, settling his weight over the island. “She makes us go once a week. On my one off day too.” 

She smiles politely. “That is very sweet. I’m sure you two have a lot of fun.” Feeling more comfortable at the mention of his wife, Iris walks past him towards the table where the wine is sitting. 

His shoes scuff her floor as he turns, a sound that easily penetrates her eardrums. Iris turns just in time to see his outstretched arm, reaching for her. She  pulls away right before he lands and steps backward. He presses forward, trapping her between him and the table. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, now on high alert. 

He sighs harshly, his body drooping from the aggravation as his face contorts into a frown. “Oh come on; surely, you know how this works, Iris.”

“How what works?”

“I could get art from any buyers in the city. Men much more accomplished than you. If I came to you, it’s because of an added incentive.”

“Which is?” 

“ You.” He tries to press his body into hers, but Iris pushes him in the chest. He stumbles, but only barely, as Iris rushes to the other side of the table, grabbing the half-empty bottle of wine as a weapon.  “Get out. NOW,” she commands voice loud and firm. 

Much firmer than her nerves on the inside. There’s no way she can overpower him, physically. And this high up, no one will hear her screams from her penthouse. 

“Or what?” He asks, casually rounding the table, completely unphased. 

“Or I will bash your fucking skull in.”

She raises the bottle higher, hoping to appear more threatening. He chuckles, nearly spits at her attempt. “Oh, you’re not going to hit me. Not if you want to keep doing business in this town. Remember, I have a lot of rich friends. One word from me, and you’re toast.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, overcome with offense at his audacity. 

 “You heard me!” Randolf yells as thrusts himself towards her, and tackles her to the ground.  

The bottle of wine falls from her hand, shattering into a million pieces on the floor around them. He tries to kiss her and Iris squirms underneath him, fighting to free from his grip, shards of glass digging into her exposed flesh. She yells, the stinging pain piercing all her nerves.

 “Shut up!” He yells, wedging his leg between hers as he plants a firm hand round her neck. 

Iris freezes, pinned in place, chest heaving up and down as his tar-black eyes singe a hole through her.

“There.” His smile is dark and haunting. “This isn’t so bad is it?” 

Unwilling to let the last sight of her be a disheveled, powerless woman, Iris spits clean on his face. His hand shoots to the spot in disbelief, face as red as the blood trickling from the wounds on her leg, “Oh, you’ve done it now!” He yells, drawing his hand backward.  Iris presses her eyes shut, preparing for the blow. But where she should feel stinging pain, possibly a broken nose, she only feels a gust of wind and the relief of Randolf’s body no longer being on top of hers. 

The crash that follows is deafening as the force propels Randolf into her walls. And that’s when she sees a red blur, wrapped up in blazing lightning, delivering the final blow that knocks Randolf clean out. 

His limp body falls to the floor, his skull cracking against the luxury vinyl tile that covers her kitchen floors. The masked hero, who she now registers as The Flash, comes into focus. She watches him watch look over Randolf's unmoving body, making no effort to check on him.

Iris uses her depleted strength to stumble upward, grunting as fresh shards of glass pierce her hands. She lets out a guttural cry, nearly tumbling over from the pain. 

From the shock. From the devastation. 

He runs over and catches her, letting her body crash into his soft, open arms. She can’t even scrounge up the energy to wonder how or why The Flash has yet again saved her from herself. She’s completely overwhelmed at the fact that this night couldn't have ended so much worse.

And then come the tears, a ravenous stream down her face. Iris presses her hand into face, to block the sight of her 

“Oh, God. Are you bleeding?” Asks the masked man in panicked frenzy, though his voice unmasks him immediately.

Slowly, Iris raises her head, every odd encounter with the Flash she’s had over the past few months settling into place like a finally-finished puzzle. All the she time she almost met her demise, but didn't. 

He looks at her, fear coursing, over the lingering anger in his eyes, but that voice is unmistakable. It’s the same voice that awkwardly asked her out nearly a year ago, and grew giddy when she agreed. The same voice that’s crooned sweet “I love you’s” in her ear since that first night he nervously admitted it, over frozen yogurt.

“B-” Her throat is dry and ragged. “Barry?” She pushes out. 

With a sigh, he tears his cowl off, revealing fully the face of the man she loves more than she knew was possible. His cheeks are bloodshot red, his eyes puffy, and glossy, a clear sign his own tears will soon spill forth. 

“Oh, Iris,” he groans, sweeping her up into his arms. 

Now knowing this masked hero is the man she loves, has been the man she loves, she melts further into his chest, every bit of hesitation to maintain an air of control falling away. She cries, shamelessly, unabashedly, into his chest as he rocks her. 

She has a thousand questions, and knows he does too, but she can’t scrounge up a single one, only caring that he’s here now. That he’s saved her. Again. 

As Iris goes silent, Barry’s mind races a thousand miles a minute. He’d taken Caitlin’s advice and headed here to talk to her about her lies, never imagining the scene he’d walk in on. He can’t think straight, can’t even worry about his former objective, he’s only grateful that he got here in time before…

“Fuck!” Yells. Iris jumps against his chest, but he’s unperturbed. “You could’ve. He could’ve…” He continues, trying to push past the ugliness these sentences conjures in his brain, but the defeated shame on her face stops him. 

He kisses her cheek, and stands, lifting her in his arms, bridal style, though the apartment is devoid of the the joy of a burgeoning marriage. The air is heavy, as heavy as both their hearts, as her body in his arms. Yet he soldiers on, through the resistance. When he arrives at her bedroom, he kicks the door open with one foot and carries her over to the bed, covered in the black, floral comforter he’d bought her as a gift early in their relationship. 

Before he knew of the lies and deceit.

As her raw skin makes contact with the bed, she hisses in discomfort. “I’m sorry!” he’s quick to say, swiping a comforting hand over her head. 

“It’s okay, Barr,” she croaks Her voice is thin, barely meeting the air. She's afraid to bring up the obvious, knowing now that the sweet, gentle man she’s been getting to know over the last year is The Flash. A masked hero, a force of nature, keeping the city from descending into anarchy. But she has to express her gratitude somehow. “Thank you.”

He swipes a gentle hand down the side of her face, lingering on her beauty, then leans down, planting a soft kiss on the side of her face. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says, as her straightens his posture. “Now, I’ll be back.” He turns away from her and heads to the bedroom door. 

Iris sits up on the bed. “Where are you going?” 

“To see if that asshole is still breathing. Hopefully, he’s not. But if he is, I have to drop him off at Iron Heights.”

His response is dry, matter-of-fact, and it sends a tingle down her spine. “But. You can’t. He’ll talk.”

“It’s okay.” Barry continues to walk away from her. “He didn’t see my face.”

“But. Still. I don’t think jail is the right path for him.”

She isn’t saying what she wants, and he knows it. But he’s too amped up to care. “So I’m supposed to let the man who almost raped my girlfriend go free?! Is that what you want?”

“No. I…”she sighs, long and hard. “I just…”

He turns, the painful implication settling inside of him. Even after all of this, she’s worried about her dirty business deals. “What? You’re worried that the police will find out what you’ve really been doing all this time? How can you afford to live like this?” He motions around the apartment. 

Iris gulps, the judgement in his tone hurting more than the gashes on her legs. 

“Well, newsflash: the police -- me, I -- know, and have known for months. And what you’re doing, honestly? You deserve to be in jail.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything?” She croaks. “Why haven’t you turned me in?”

He chuckles, offensively. “Because...I love you more than your mistakes. And I was trying to give you time to either stop this or be honest with me.” He shrugs, painfully. “Guess it’s too late for that.”

“Barr, I’m sorry. I--.” She sighs, letting her head fall forward in shame. “ I’m sorry.”

Barry sighs. “Yeah. Me too.” He casts one final look of disappointment over her, one that softens ever so slightly when she raises her head and he meets her sad, concerned eyes. “Look, we can talk about all of this later. All that matters right now is that you're safe."

Iris nods meekly.

"I’ll be back in a sec to help clean you up,” he says, before flashing away, leaving her alone in the room....

#The flash #westallen #fanfiction #archive of our own

[thefrizz13]

Nurseydex

#nurseydex #check please #omgcp #the frizz does something original #back at it again with projecting everything onto my ships #nurseydex prompts

[khadij-al-kubra]

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

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Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I  am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon* 

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that. 

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.  

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy;  he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses.  “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn���t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’ 

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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#KDsWriting #First Impressions AU #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #romantic lamp #LAMP #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #soulmate au #polysanders #soulmark au #soulmate tattoo #tw panic attack #fanders #hamilton refrences #hopeless gays #nicaraguan roman #because i say so! #FINALLY off hiatus

[arnoldperlstein]

what’s wrong with rides again?

this time around i’d like to talk about my issues with the reboot of the magic school bus, the magic school bus rides again! 

don’t get me wrong, for the most part? there’s a lot i love about rides again: it really expands on characters like arnold, tim, janet, and ralphie, whose new characterizations are developed but still faithful to the original; likewise, i like fiona frizzle and jyoti as new additions to the class. many of the jokes land and the episodes tend to be pretty funny and inventive! (jokes in the 3 recent specials have been particularly great)

there are, though, rather noticeable flaws that especially bother me, someone who grew up with the original. now here we go, in order of importance!

1. wanda

okay, i’ll get this out of the way: rides again wanda is not wanda. the original 90s wanda was a force to be reckoned with, a headstrong and active character who acted first and thought later - she was a great foil for a character like arnold who, in contrast, is so cautious and reserved. 90s wanda had an immense chaotic energy which reflected that of the original ms. frizzle and that of the show as a whole, really making everything exciting.

rides again wanda is... none of those things. she’s... kinda active? more in a stubborn way. she’s more defensive than offensive now and seems way more... soft than before? rides again wanda now loves animals and often acts as a morality pet in terms of them. now, if you’ve ever seen the original 90s cartoon, you know there’s one person who this sounds exactly like. pheobe.

by the start of rides again, pheobe had apparently went back to her old school, with jyoti taking up the 8th spot in the class. you wouldn’t think that pheobe’s role needed to be filled now that she was gone, and yet almost all of her traits were superimposed onto a character who originally had none of them. if they were going to pheeb-ify anyone, doing it to someone as iconically un-pheobe-like as wanda was a terrible idea!

not like they needed to pheeb-ify anyone - you already have cautious and shy characters like arnold, quiet and observant characters like tim, and voices of reason like da. i love pheobe, but her role didn’t need to be filled; people don’t work like that in real life.

and what sucks the most about this for me is that wanda was one of my favorite characters growing up! i loved her spunk and her attitude and her bravery going into anything! and i loved her catchphrase of “c’mon, you weaselly wimps”, which i may add i don’t remember her saying at all in rides again. it just sucks, man!!

2. lack of chaotic energy of the original/lack of memorability

one thing that characterized the original 90s cartoon was how... well, chaotic it was. there was something so energized and wacky about the whole thing, and you never knew what was going to happen next! the jokes were hilarious and the characters played off of each other perfectly, giving it an interesting, pseudo-sitcom vibe in the background.

the fact that it came out in the 90s at all, with its animation style and the technology at the time made these fantastical field trips all the more fascinating and mysterious - oftentimes, the frizz would push a simple button or pull a simple lever and the bus would turn into a fish or a bee or a rocket ship! this combined with the fact that the bus itself was rather old and rudimentary made it all seem more relatable and nostalgic.

unfortunately, rides again has none of this. the new art style, character designs, futuristic tech, and voice acting not only further suspends your disbelief with how starkly different they are from the original, but also completely get rid of that nostalgic 90s chaos that made the original so memorable.

and speaking of memorability, i can remember the premise of just about every 90s cartoon episode - they all have some wacky twist that makes it all the more bonkers and memorable: gets ready, set, dough? the baker thinks he’s delusional and that a moth baked a cake. in a pickle? court scene and the ‘mike robe gang’. shows and tells? arnold is forced to do improv and doesn’t suck at it somehow. holiday special? wanda turns the recycling plant into a pile of garbage. it’s all over the place yet somehow plausible, which makes it all the better to remember.

but rides again? the only jokes i remember are from episodes i’ve specifically seen over and over and over again, such as frizzle of the future, monster power, or making magic. give me episodes like pigs in the wind, in the swim, hides and seeks, the tales glaciers tell, the land before tim, ghost farm, i spy with my animal eyes, or send in the clouds and i won’t remember a single joke, funny line, or wacky moment. it makes it all seem bland in retrospect, unfortunately.

3. catchphrases!

there isn’t a ton to talk about here, but there is an annoying lack of characters using their catchphrases in rides again: sure, arn does occasionally say ‘i knew i should’ve stayed home today’, and da does say ‘according to my research’ (albeit differently than she did before - i’ll touch on this in a second), but most other characters don’t use their catchphrases much at all now.

tim doesn’t say “we’ve been frizzled” and keesha doesn’t say “let me get the facts” and ralphie doesn’t say “is it just me” and carlos doesn’t say “you’re gonna love this” and wanda doesn’t say “c’mon you weaselly wimps” etc. or heck, if they did, i just don’t remember, which is honestly telling enough. 

you’d think this’d be a good thing, as people in real life don’t tend to have catchphrases, but it only makes the characters’ personalities more distinguished and memorable, having the unique things they say when excited or scared or whatever.

4. pheobe leaving :(

don’t get me wrong, jyoti is super cool, but i can still miss pheeb!

while i always resonated with arnold more, i’ve also found a connection with pheobe, such as with her love of animals (especially butterflies). she’s also just a really sweet, kind character who has a very strong moral backbone and a passion for doing the right thing. i find that a really nice personality for a character to have!

i also have my personal ship of pheobe and keesha (just watch the 90s episode gets ants in its pants, you’ll thank me later), and i find the two of them really cute! sucks that my pheobe privileges had to be revoked by rides again, though... why don’t we at least see what she’s doing, or get a mention other than just that ‘she returned to her old school’? why would she do that, anyway?

5. da’s accent

i don’t know how to describe dorothy ann’s accent in the original 90s cartoon? it’s like an american accent with slight bits of an english accent to it. a tad old-timey. either way it’s a very distinguishing trait of hers, besides her gravity-defying pigtails and love for the color violet.

unfortunately, there seemed to be no effort to carry this over to rides again in any capacity - heck, even if the voice actress couldn’t replicate her voice, they could at least pronounce the word research the same way da does: ‘reh-search’ rather than the more common ‘ree-search’. but alas, no. also da in a ponytail is not a good look, at least to me.

also, please return to the books. i don’t want to keep hearing the word ‘frizzpad’.

6. please don’t let them ruin this with a bad live action movie

note: it doesn’t have to be bad! it could be good! but the reputation of live action movies lately has been abysmal and i’m just worried how much they might butcher it...

and that’s all i can think of! despite all of this complaining i still do rather enjoy rides again. there’s just a lot of room to improve!!

#tmsb #the magic school bus #i need me some chaotic energy!!!! #one day i want to do a ytp of a rides again episode to inject it with some of that chaos i enjoyed in the original

[mirdance]

Love Will Teach Us the Way

I wasn't sure if I'd post this to tumblr since I'm just getting started on this platform, but why not! Participating in the Mysme RBB (@mysme-rbb) has been such fun. It was a pleasure to work with Rose. The lovely Ami and the story idea all belong to her! You can see both Zen and Ami staring lovingly into each others eyes in Rose's beautiful rendition of the story. The story on A03 Check out the art to this piece here: Instagram Twitter Summary: Zen plays the part of a wandering minstrel in As You Love It. Even though he isn't playing the main role, he is busier than ever as the sole provider of music for the entire play. He hasn't been able to spend much time with his beloved, even missing out on her birthday, much to her dismay. To make up for it during rehearsal season, he wanders to Ami's favorite spot on campus to serenade her an old ballad. The song Zen sings is based off a 17th century British folk song called Love will find out the Way. Original Lyrics Tune

Zen has had to wear many a unique costume for the spotlight, varying from zentai suits to bear furs to tree branches.  To gain fame in theatre, one must be willing to do the extraordinary and go beyond his comfort zone.  Aka listen to the director’s whims even if he looked absolutely ridiculous.  For William Stilspear’s As You Love It, the costuming was no different than most of his other comedies, save for the absurdly tight tights.  Sure, most bards wore tight tights, but did they have to be this tight?  Zen adjusted the band around his waist once more before buttoning up his shirt.  Even the old guy playing Fairy Number Five was starting to complain, and that dude never complained about anything.

Such was the life of the beautiful and famous.  Zen sighed and checked himself once more in the mirror.  He’d rather not present himself to his beloved in such a way, but he barely had time to visit her before dress rehearsals.  If only he were dressed as a gallant knight.  Unfortunately, for the upcoming charity play, he was one of the only performers who could sing.  This stuck him with the part of the wandering bard.  He wasn’t trying to be ungrateful, but the pants for the bard were even tighter than the other parts.  Not only that, but he’d had to practice guitar day and night.  His lovely Ami understood, but…he still felt bad, nonetheless.  How could a boyfriend miss his girlfriend’s birthday?  He was literally the worst.

He grabbed his guitar case, slung it on his back, and left the dressing room.  The show would present on Ami’s campus, and while he had initially thought it would provide them some much needed time together, he’d only had time for quick kisses before her classes.  (Much to Yoosung’s disdain, as he and Ami had a few biology classes together.  He’d been the reason Ami and Zen even met, but his complaints in messenger about their so-called ‘make out sessions’ were getting on Zen’s nerves.)  Today he knew she would be studying on her break between the Chemistry and Biology building.  The buildings were connected by a hallway that morphed into a floor to ceiling glass dome.  Inside were all kinds of artistic pieces the Fine Arts Department worked together with the science departments on.  There was an old piano no one touched in the back.  He had Yoosung make sure it was in tune a few days prior, not that Yoosung knew anything about music.  Zen had to trust the sounds he’d heard over the phone and hope for the best.

Once he arrived at the dome, he made sure to stay hidden from sight.  The area seemed rather empty of students, save for a couple yawning ones on the couches.  Good.  Not that Zen didn’t want an audience for this, but part of him also wanted the moment to be intimate.  He tip-toed around Ami’s study area.  She was heavily engrossed in the textbook laid before her, and Yoosung was busy whispering questions and showing her a worksheet.  Thank you, Yoosung.  Zen would have to make it up to him later.

Zen made it to the back of the dome without incident.  He sat at the piano and ran his fingers along the keys.  The top was dusty, but everything seemed to be in working order.  He pulled his case off his back and readied his scene.  First, he plucked the strings of his guitar, testing the sounds of the dome and the echo.  He wanted the music to fill the dome while she studied, unknown to his presence at first until she discovered something was up.  He began humming along, adding a few ooos and aaahs until he broke into his song.

Over our mountains

And over our waves

Under floods that are deepest

Which Neptune obey

Over rocks which are the sharpest

Love will teach us the way

He was quiet at first, but his voice nonetheless vibrated through the air.

Where there is no home

For the fireflies to lie

Where no one can roam

Or have freedom to fly

Where the bird dares not venture

Lest herself fast decay

But If love comes, it will enter,

And will teach us the way

Papers rustled in the distance before the clopping of shoes grew louder and louder until she reached him.  Perfect.  He winked and stood from his seat to go over to her.  She looked exhausted with her hair frizzing about her head from the recent harsh rains.  She needed to take care of herself more and sleep more, but he certainly didn’t help with his late-night texts.  He couldn’t help but be drawn to her aura.  Though she would beg to differ, he thought she looked more radiant today than ever with her backpack slung over her shoulder and a pencil in her ear.

He circled her as he sang and played until he returned and rested his foot on the piano seat.  She chuckled and crossed her arms as her cheeks slowly reddened.  She was a shy gal, probably a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention, but he loved seeing her undone and flustered.  He never wanted it to be too much, but today was special.  He wanted to make up for everything he’d been doing wrong, for not loving her enough, for not holding her enough.

You may esteem me

A boy for his might

Or you may deem me

A coward running flight

But if she, whom Love does honor,

Be hidden from the day

Set a thousand armies upon her

Love will teach us the way

He set his guitar to the side and cracked his knuckles for prep for the main crescendo: finishing the song on piano.  It wasn’t the most beautiful song, but he loved the lyrics.  He had to practice it for the play, and it just resonated with him and their situation for some reason.  Even though they were busy and couldn’t see each other, even though they’d been bickering, love would guide them and make them stronger.  He ran his fingers across the keys.

Some try to lose me

By having me confined

Some do oppose me,

Poor thing, to be blind

But ne’er can they break me

Do the best that they may

Blind Love, if so they call it,

Will teach us the way

With no where to sit, Ami dropped her things onto the floor next to him and hoisted herself up onto the piano.  Zen’s heart almost burst as she crossed her legs and leaned towards him.  It was the perfect setting for a masterpiece, and he had to tear his eyes from her chiseled legs to meet her gaze.  (She really did have killer calves, okay?  He couldn’t help himself.)  He cleared his throat and continued.

You can train a hawk

To stoop to your fist

You can train a dog

With prey coexist

The lioness, you can move her

To give her to prey

you’ll not stop the lovers,

They will find out a way.

He finished the song with his left hand and reached out with his other to caress her hand.  “They will find out a way,” he whispered to her before he enclosed his hand around hers.  He brought it to him and gently kissed her knuckles.

The air was quiet a moment as his breathing grew heavier.  She squeezed his hand and grinned as she jumped off the piano and into his lap.  He threw his arms around her, and she did the same.  No words were needed.  They could simply bask in each other’s presence for the moment and lean on each other.

“I’ve missed you.”  Zen broke the silence and grazed his lips across her neck.

“I know.  Me, too.”  She leaned her forehead into his shoulder and sighed.  “I’m sorry for getting emotional the other day.  I know we’ve got a lot going on.” He continued kissing up her ear.  “No, I’m sorry.  I should have put my foot down with the director.”

“You’re both very very sorry,” Yoosung’s voice cracked in the distance.

Ami laughed into Zen’s chest.  Zen was pissed Yoosung had ruined the moment, but he couldn’t be too mad at the guy since he’d helped so much.  Zen ran his fingers through Ami’s hair and kissed her forehead.  The bells outside rang, and Zen jolted with a groan.

“I’ve gotta get back,” he said, leaning over Ami and rummaging through the pocket of his case.  “I have a surprise for you, though.”  He placed a velvet ring box in her lap.  Her legs tensed, and Zen could hear her breath quicken.  Even though he had places to be, he gave her a moment, rubbing her back in circular motions.  She gingerly opened the box to find a stage ticket to his show and a note.

The missing part to this box can be found at my show

Will you say yes or no?

Let me have your answer tonight, princess~

Ami sat frozen with the paper between her fingers, and a grin painted her face.  “I…I…”

Zen stood, carrying his love, and placed a deep kiss on her lips.  “Now, I know how you don’t like to be placed on the spot, so I’m giving you time before you’re really placed on the spot.  Midnight has struck, and this bard has to run to rehearsals.”  He placed her on the ground and wrapped her into a hug.   “I hope I’ll see you later,” he whispered into her hair.

With that, he threw his things together and left in a hurry, leaving a dazed Ami behind with Yoosung to clean up.  Zen had other things to prepare in addition to the play itself, and he could spare no moment longer.  His heart raced into his ears as he sprinted to the theatre, and his unfortunate pants only made the run more uncomfortable.  He knew the director would have it out for him in front of everyone, but Zen didn’t care.  It was foolish, and he was stupid and young.  Yet he could only smile in anticipation for the night, and hopefully, for the ring that would grace his love’s left hand.

#mysmerbb #mystic messenger #zen mystic messenger

[stark-tony]

I'd love hp recs if you're willing!

 * = incomplete

boy with a scar series* by dirgewithoutmusic  

summary:  A series of "what if" rewrites of Harry Potter, books 1-7. Cross-posted from tumblr (ink-splotch).

pairings: romione, hinny, wolfstar, bleur, jily

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

warnings:

we must unite inside her walls or we'll crumble from within series by dirgewithoutmusic

summary:  stories for the ladies of hogwarts, who cry, waver, giggle, trespass, and who deserve our respect all the same

pairings:

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

the dogfather au by hollimichele

summary:  “I’m not a reverse werewolf either,” says the man. “I’m your godfather.”

pairings: wolfstar

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

The Changeling + Armistice Series*  by Annerb

summary:  Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

pairings: hinny

tags: angst, drama

warnings: rape

tell me whether he is dead by LullabyKnell

summary: Post-DH AU: Harry suffers a few side-effects of dying but not dying.

“Hey, can someone help me with this? The mirror in the bedroom’s stopped working for me."

“What do you mean ‘the mirror’s stopped working’?”

pairings: hermione/harry/ron

tags: fluff, angst, humor

warnings: none

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux

summary: What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?

A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.

Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.

pairings: wolfstar

tags: crack

warnings: none

who discovered your secret by LullabyKnell

summary: Pre-Canon AU: On the street named Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey, a man lived alone at Number Eight, supposedly.

It was apparently difficult to tell.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

Little Lion Boy by ShanaStoryteller

summary: Draco is sorted into Gryffindor.

It's all part of the plan, really.

parings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

a witch in the family by LullabyKnell

summary: - "For the 5+ Headcanon game, what do you think of an AU in which Petunia is a witch?"

Pre-Canon AU: Petunia Evans learns important life lessons from the magical world that every proper witch ought to know.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

when in doubt, go to the library by LullabyKnell

summary:  The Hogwarts Library saves the Wizarding World through the power of reading. 

pairings: none

tags: humor, crack

warnings: none

these long cold days by dirgewithoutmusic

summary: In the war, Dean holed up in hollows and friendly attics and Muggle pubs. He drew Umbridge the Toad, noseless Voldy confused by the last dozen plus years of wizardly pop culture, the Ministry of Magic with its fingers stuffed in its stuffy ears.

He drew Snape as Headmaster, his sneer easy after seven years of notebook margin practice. Dean drew the Dark Mark over London’s skyline and he left his work nailed up around Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Godric’s Hollow. He signed his name. He had things he wanted to say.

There were long days when he didn’t talk to anyone– walking old fields and long roads, sleeping in haystacks. There were long weeks when he only talked to strangers– passersby, shop owners, sympathizers, snatchers who he traded curses with.

He drew the Gryffindor Common Room, hearths all ablaze. He listened to Lee Jordan’s radio show on the crackling airwaves. He drew his little sisters, who had gone to France with his mother and father. He drew faces from the darkened boys’ dormitory– Harry’s long bangs hiding his scar, Neville practicing his dance moves for the Yule Ball, Ron asleep with his head on his thick Weasley sweater, Seamus grinning at him over a three a.m. game of cards.

pairings: deamus

tags: angst

warnings: kidnapping

Rise by Kyra_Neko_Rei

summary: When Voldemort came to kill Harry, Lily met him with a SIG Sauer pistol she bought at a pawn shop. Seems Dark Lords die as easily as anyone else when you empty two clips into them.

Hailed as the savior of the Wizarding world, Lily has a live baby, a dead husband, the personal enmity of most of the Dark Lord's followers, and not the slightest idea how to put her life back together.

Phoenixes have it easy. Burn, die, rise from the ashes.

For humans it's a bit different. Sort of.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: character death

look to your kingdoms by Vail

summary:  When she visits Diagon Alley, Hermione hates that the first thing the shop clerk in the apothecary tries to sell her is a potion to “tame her hair.” She likes her hair the way it is, curls and frizz, heavy around her shoulders. She thought the wizarding world would be different. (Black Hermione character study.)

pairings: none 

tags: drama

warnings: racism

The Chamber Strike by BlainelovesKurt, evansentranced  

summary:  Harry is sick of Umbridge and everyone pushing him around. Halfway through fifth year, he decides to Do Something about it. Warning: Contains nuts. And cults, falling sugar bowls, terrible handwriting, and beleaguered caretakers. Crack!fic. Written with transfiguredbunny over Thanksgiving of 2006 after we ate ALL the turkey.

pairings: none

tags: crack

warnings: none

Dudley Dursley's Most Unexpectedly Fortunate Flower by aTasteofCaramell

summary: Dudley Dursley is leading a perfectly normal life, his contact with his odd cousin limited to Christmas cards and peculiar memories.

Until his daughter sneezes and sets the curtains on fire.

pairings: dudley/ original female character, hinny

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

repeated a thousand times in golden ink by LullabyKnell

summary: Half-Blood Prince AU: In which Luna makes a friend through desk art and Ginny helps.

Shameless, essentially plotless friendship fluff.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

The Splendid Gallery by LullabyKnell

summary: Pre-POA AU: In the summer of 1993, the Grangers vacation in France and meet the Delacours. When the Granger-Delacour parents elect to explore Wizarding France as a group, Hermione Granger is thrown together with a girl named Fleur Delacour due to some bizarre idea that they will somehow magically become friends. Even though they have nothing whatsoever in common and Hermione doesn't like Fleur at all!

In which two of the brightest witches of their age become very good friends.

pairings: fleur/ hermione

tags: fluff

warnings: none

riding up the wrong path by ashen_key

summary: When Lily is eighteen, she cuts her hair and joins the army. The British Army.The British Muggle Army.

Despite what the gossip papers say, she leaves her wand at home. She's not a complete idiot.

– –

Oh, right.

Maybe take a few steps back.

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

there will come a time, you'll see by aloneintherain

summary: They have Shepard’s pie for dinner. Ron and Hermione watch Harry fill up his plate and only start serving themselves when he picks up his fork and starts eating. Neville laughs into his wine glass. 

“How are you dealing with their mothering, Harry?” he asks.

Ron opens and closes his mouth for a minute, groping for an excuse. Eventually, Ron says, “He’s just so small, Nev.”

“Hey,” Harry says. “I’m seventeen. I’m an adult.”

Ron shakes his head at Neville. “My best friend is an infant.”

A curse regresses Harry to his seventeen year old self, physically and mentally. He doesn’t recognise this strange peaceful wizarding world, but there are two people he does recognise: Ron and Hermione.

 Based off this tumblr post.

pairings: romione

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

call it a badge of honor by dirgewithoutmusic

summary:  In those halls, they faced down Death Eaters under the guise of teaching robes. They faced them with raised wands, raised fists, or just raised chins, these children who kept telling stories in the dark about Harry Potter, who was going to save them.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger)

summary: “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”

“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.

Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

pairings: hinny

tags: fluff, humor, angst

warnings:

THERMOS!, or, How a Muggle-Born Brought a New Age of Spell-Making to Hogwarts (Entirely by Accident) by susieboo

summary: Muggle-born witch Phoebe McDevitt just wanted her tea to stay warm during class. She didn't expect to accidentally start a spell-making craze among her classmates.

[Oneshot. Next generation. Based off a Tumblr post, which I will link to in the notes.] 

pairings: none

tags: humor

warnings: none

and ready to suffer and ready to hope by irnan (locked to ao3 users)

summary:  or, the one where petunia evans is a witch.

pairings: jily, hinny

tags: angst

warnings: character death

a very nice thing to say by LullabyKnell

summary:  Chamber of Secrets AU: Harry and Ron miss the train to Hogwarts. Luckily for them, they're not the only ones. Harry's not sure what's going on, what they're going to do, or who these people are exactly, but Ron seems to know these Lovegood people and it's not like there's anyone else to help them get to Hogwarts. 

tags: fluff, humor, 

pairings: none

warnings: none

yesterday we were just children playing soliders by girlmadeofstars

summary: What if, when Harry heard the Slytherin portion of the Hat's song, he payed attention when the Hat sung perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends? Imagine this: a little boy- beaten, and ignored, for his entire life. A little boy- friendless, and lonely. A little boy- desperate for the kind of friendship he had read about in books, seen on the television screen.

When the Hat offered him Slytherin, imagine that Harry said yes.

pairings: hinny, romione, astoria/ draco

tags: 

warnings:

The Transfiguration Incident, Or Pettigrew's Problems by Kyra_Neko_Rei

summary:  The lesson is transfiguring rats into teacups . . . only Ron Weasley's rat is actually an Animagus, which has dire consequences for the spell, for Peter Pettigrew, and for the Dark Lord's prospects for resurrection (and rather better consequences for Minerva McGonagall's reputation). Cross-posted (finally!) from Tumblr.

pairings: none

tags: humor

warnings: none

In the Name of the Brave* by LullabyKnell

summary: “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” 

“Oh, that’s Professor Black.”

- A slow-paced, self-indulgent, canon rewrite Philosopher's Stone AU.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none 

Take Two* by Bundibird

summary: Never let it be said that a Slytherin doesn’t know to take hold of an opportunity when it’s presented to him on a silver platter.

[A Fourth Year AU in which Draco makes the most of Potter and Weasley’s fight and takes a second shot at befriending Harry. For the Greater Evil, obviously.]

Cross-posted at ff.n

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: 

Percy Weasley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by LullabyKnell

summary:  Pre-Philosopher's Stone AU: In which fourteen-year-old Percy Weasley is very stressed, does not get enough sleep, and accidentally and unknowingly saves the Wizarding World because of bad aim.

pairings: none

tags: humor

warnings: none

beautiful enough for the both of us by dirgewithoutmusic

summary: “You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.

Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”

“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”

“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.

“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”

Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”

Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out.

--

Werewolf!Lavender, post-canon

pairings: lavender/ parvati

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

#hp recs #my fic recs #hp #rape tw #kidnapping tw #character death tw #racism tw #becca answers #anon

[thelifepartners]

E. Weissberg

Seven Limes

The entire pie is balanced in the crook of my right arm. I’m using my left hand and some Hail-Mary muscle tension in my legs to keep climbing up my high-rise’s fire escape. Even ground-level, I always believe a pie in-transit will fall and splatter before I eat it.

Kara is behind me. She made the pie and is shouting up to me how the recipe is simple — condensed milk and the juice from seven limes, mostly. I don’t know whether Kara is a good cook. We’ve known each other maybe a week.

That’s probably why she’s slung a bag over her shoulder with silverware and two ceramic plates, instead of us just eating slices off paper towels while standing in my kitchen. With a new person, it’s so easy to do a little bit of work.

After I watch Kara put both feet on the roof and we’re sitting comfortably away from the edge, she cuts a piece for me. She lifts it from the tin and the wedge remains perfectly straight-edged, something I haven’t known was possible with a first slice.  

My fork hovers towards the pie before I notice and drop my arm. She’s noticed too, and she laughs.

After I cut a piece for her, I wait to take a bite until she does, because I want us to have the same taste in our mouths at the same time. When I do, the flavor is the way merengue diner-pie looks, before you bite into it and the ornamental topping tastes like an industrial refrigerator and stale air.

The sky is blue. Kara’s hair is backlit and the frizz is silver in the sun. I do not know what will become of us, but at this moment, there’s nothing more I could ask for.

Originally published at Thirty West Publishing

#prose #flashfiction

[abbacchiosbelt]

Mobile-Friendly OC Masterpost

Apparently the carrd has been acting up, so here’s a post of my original characters! They can also be found here! ♥

Haru Yamada

Height: 5’8 (177 cm) Pronouns: They/Them

Appearance: Shoulder-blade length black hair that’s prone to frizz. Androgynous. Deep brown eyes. Lithe, but not very fit. Very pale. Age: 27 Birthday: December 5th – Sagittarius Sexuality: Pansexual Personality: While they appear easy-going, Haru is a very observant person and is prone to pick up details others might miss. The info they gain usually isn’t used against others… They just like to know things. A bit irritable after being forced to drop out of grad school due to finances and take over the family coffee shop, “A Coffee or Two.” Haru yearns for knowledge and feels trapped. Haru is very good at regulating their emotions and because of that, they can easily manipulate others. However, they vastly prefer the ‘kill 'em with kindness’ method. They’re very loyal to their friends but prefer to keep their 'circle’ small. A service switch - willing to do whatever it takes to please their partner, though they do get a kick out of teasing. Has a secret 'free use’ kink and wants their partners to use them whenever and however they want.

-

BNHA-Verse Extra Quirk: Rapid Heating Quirk Info: Haru has never been much of a fighter, but their quirk is perfect for the business they run. Haru can rapidly heat up their hands without fear of injury, which helps them to brew coffee and tea as well as ensure things are the perfect temperature. They can get a rough read on temperature just by touching something.

Miho Nakajima

Height: 5’9 (180 cm) Pronouns: She/Her Appearance: Long and thick ash blonde hair that’s usually tied back into a bun. Has two fluffy white ears and a fluffy tail. Sharp canines and sharp nails. Piercing red, feline-like eyes that are usually lined with dark makeup. Thick and strong with a lot of leg muscle. Like a real cat, she has a cute pooch on her stomach that acts as her ‘primordial pouch.’ Tans easily. Age: 25 Birthday: March 8th – Pisces Sexuality: Lesbian Personality: Rather optimistic, but prone to making impulse decisions born from high emotions. She wants to help everyone around her. As a child, she faced bullying for her quirk and Miho can sometimes be quick to take the defensive on comments about it, even if they are innocuous. Prone to being overprotective of those around her, but will back off if someone is uncomfortable. She had a string of relationships that ended due to circumstances out of her hands, so she’s reluctant to commit again. Switch leaning top, but is willing to bottom for people she trusts. A pillow princess at heart, but occasionally she gets pent up and will give her partner such a good time they won’t even know what happened. Rope bunny.

-

BNHA Verse Extra

Quirk: Cat Quirk Info: Much like Tsuyu’s frog quirk, Miho has all the abilities that a cat would have: fast reflexes, sharp claws, heightened sense of smell and hearing, flexibility… You name it, there’s a chance that Miho’s quirk is able to do it. Unlike cats, she does not have any whiskers. (Though she wishes she did!) She’s incredibly agile and plans to become a teacher once she’s finished with grad school. Her hope is to teach at UA.

Danny (Daniel) Glass

Height: 5’5 (165 cm) Pronouns: He/Him Appearance: Striking violet eyes that are always underlined by dark circles from lack of sleep. Black hair (naturally brown) that’s shaved into an undercut on the right side. Intricate floral tattoo on his neck. Russet skin. Short and fairly strong. Age: 30 Birthday: February 10th – Aquarius Sexuality: Bisexual Personality: Danny comes off as stoic but is a rather emotional guy when you get to know him. He cherishes close friendships and doesn’t make time for acquaintances. He can be lax with his studies, but he’s intelligent. He marches to the beat of his own drum and doesn’t really care what other people think about him, though he often still finds himself seeking approval by dressing fashionably. He’s been trying to kick smoking for a year with no success. Currently in Grad School for Architecture and Design, but is constantly questions academia despite enjoying his studies. Has never really been one for long-term relationships because he’s so unwilling to open up, but he wouldn’t reject one outright. Confident, just very quiet. Was in an open adoption as a child and is close with his parents and bio parents. He’s very proud of his heritage as a Native American, his bio parents hailing from the Kiowa tribe. A sub, almost always. He likes to be told what to do and how to do it - prefers rewards over punishments. Not interested in dominating his partners in any way. Prefers soft and romantic sex. Really into JOI, but from lovers only - the videos do nothing for him.

Alexandre Valentin

Height: 6’3” (193 cm) Pronouns: He/Him Appearance: Long and pale blonde hair, wavy. Deep blue eyes. Lanky with a lot of upper-strength and muscle. (He’s pretty twink-y, though.) Pale skin. Age: 29 Birthday: September 4th — Virgo Sexuality: Demi, Bisexual Personality: A quiet and reserved man. Alexandre prefers to spend time alone and read. He works at a library but does under the table work for extra cash when he feels like buying something nice. Alexandre is extremely morally grey, and has a lot of connections because of it. Flirty when he feels like it, but tends to keep to himself unless someone really interests him. When he does get interested, he falls fast and hard. He’s fairly low-maintenance and doesn’t do well around those who need a lot of attention. A bratty sub and a cruel dom - not picky about which role he takes, though Alexandre prefers lazy morning sex with no real 'roles’ over anything else. Consensual somnophilia kink.

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BNHA Verse Extra Specialty: ??? (Vigilante) (Underground) Hero Name: Bataille Quirk: Blade Limbs Quirk Info: Alexandre can turn his arms into sharp blades that function just as a sword would. They’re quite heavy, so they require an immense amount of stamina to use. He doesn’t care for hero society and prefers to work in the shadows.

Sanguine

Height: 5’4 (152 cm) Appearance: Shoulder-length, curly bubblegum pink hair. Violet eyes. Fat with wide hips and a large bust. (Picrews are not an indication of her body size.) Age: 28 Pronouns: She/Her Birthday: June 6th — Gemini Sexuality: Pan Personality: She loves anything cute and tries to reflect it in her style. She’s a hopeless flirt and romantic, but will respect boundaries if told the back off. Constantly harboring new crushes. She’s almost always tired and can be seen nursing and iced coffee if she’s not napping. She works well in teams and prefers it to solo work. She really loves animals and is a vegan — won’t hesitate to kill anyone who harms an animal in front of her. Her morals are a mystery to those around her, but she knows she’s not exactly a great person when it comes to how she manipulates the people around her. She’s aggressively nosy and likes to know everything she can about her friends and lovers. She has a way of getting people to spill their hearts out to her, only to turn back and use the info on them when she needs something. Somehow, she still has a lot of friends. Very intense in relationships. A true switch. If she’s in charge, she’s a cruel mistress who likes humiliating her partners. Sanguine has no mercy for those who dare to let her dom. A power bottom, for sure. Cream pie kink.

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BNHA Verse Extra Name - ??? – Refuses to reveal her real name and goes by Sanguine, her villain name.

Specialty: Assassinations Quirk: Blood Manipulation Quirk info: Sanguine spent lots of time training her quirk to be used as a weapon. Her quirk is strongest during the full moon and is generally more effective at night. She can control the blood flow of others, essentially rendering them to puppets. During full moons, she can cut off their airway. Her quirk is best used against one person. She has anemia, though if the condition is related to her quirk is unknown. She’s best used for missions that need a quick and quiet takeout, as she gets tired easily. Because of this, she prefers to take weapons (knives, guns) with her for backup.

Ann-Marie Bell

Height: 6'1 (186 cm) Appearance: Tall with an athletic body. Rich, dark brown skin with cool undertones. Wears her hair natural - her hair texture is 4A. She has a nose piercing on the right side of her nose. Age: 155 (Appears to be in her early 30s.) Birthday: April 11th — Aries Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them Sexuality: Bisexual Personality: Very optimistic and easy-going. Despite being a Vampire that is over 100 years old, she still holds onto a zest for life. Ann-Marie is very interested in how people work and what makes people tick. She is fast to form friendships and has a knack for making people feel comfortable, even if they feel a strange aura in her presence. She has only change a few other people in her time as a Vampire - she’s never found anyone willing to stick around with her for that long. Unfortunately, she’s paranoid about her secret getting out, so anyone who knows and doesn’t plan on sticking around is taken care of. (With mercy, but still…) Despite her… interesting method of ending relationships, Ann-Marie doesn’t kill the people she feeds from. A sadistic top, through and through. Can and will use her strap to put her lovers in their place.

Elestren

Height: 5'6 (167 cm) Appearance: Average height. Fairly built and stocky. Natural blonde but dyes his hair lavender. (Very meticulous about his appearance.) No piercings or tattoos. Freckly shoulders and legs. Age: 31

Pronouns: He/Him Birthday — January 25th (Aquarius) Sexuality: Pansexual Personality: An evil pseudo-himbo, if you will. Elestren acts very air headed and kind as a front, using his good looks to make the act seem charming. Underneath the surface, Elestren is an extreme manipulator and has always used his looks to get whatever he wanted in life - he doesn’t care how his actions impact the people around him as long as his goals are achieved. Works in the business field but has no real love for it except for the money he makes. Elestren is an extrovert and cycles through groups of friends almost monthly. He doesn’t often find someone he finds worthy of his friendship, and doesn’t care enough to hold the things people tell him in confidence against them. It’s one of the few positives of him - he’ll never tell your secrets because he doesn’t find them interesting enough to talk about. Elestren is, however, a hopeless 'romantic’ when it comes to his darling. His dedication is troubling and he is likely to be manipulative, reverent, and obsessive. He doesn’t let his darlings go easily and will do anything to keep them on his side. A switch that prefers to top. Surprisingly, enjoys being on the receiving end of degradation and humiliation, but doesn’t get to experience it unless he’s with a long-term darling.

#personal #OCs #original characters #they're always available for requests! #feel free to draw 'em if you want as well