#But idk it's been on my mind and would rather not bombard someone with all of that

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

⭐⭐⭐ talk away!!! pls talk about whatever suits your fancy, maybe what kinds of traits and themes draw you to a character/story idea, or what themes or traits you notice reappearing in a lot of your works?

oooooh hi hello!!!! thank you for sending this and enabling me lol

okay, so as for what i'm drawn to -- i definitely have a Thing(TM) for poor soggy little meow meows lol. i like my female characters to resemble wet orphan kittens abandoned in the rain lol, but also have a very strong side to them that is in direct opposition to their soggy-meow-meowness lol. i really enjoy that duality. i enjoy that in all sorts of characters, and when it comes to fanfic i do read m/m and only very occasionally m/f pairings, but i am very rarely -- if ever -- inspired to write for them. i guess the formula for what compels me to write something is the combination of 1. soggy woman i wanna keep in a jar 2. is it something i want to read and feel there isn't much of in the world?

i exclusively write f/f pairings and woman-centred storylines -- not bc it's the only thing i enjoy in fiction, but bc it's the sort of thing i wanted to read when i was young and there was just so little of it, and i found it almost exclusively in fanfiction, with some exceptions such as sarah waters novels that i really enjoyed, but weren't translated in my language when i was a kid so i did struggle with them a bit (i would really wanna reread those now that i have a better grasp of the english language and am no longer a tween lol, i wonder if my opinion on them would change). i like to write from experience, and my experience is that of a rather odd gay woman moving through the world, so i like to channel that in my fiction. i feel like i'm Qualified(TM) to write it lol.

i'm about to be an old man shaking my fist at the world and demanding people get out of my swamp lol, but i feel like even though there has been a huge change in the amount of wlw storylines media we are Served every year (when i was a teen i feel i could count them all, that's how few movies/books there were, and at one point it was like okay..... i've seen it all lol or at least all that was accessible to me). and even though the media landscape has changed drastically in the last 10 years, i still feel like there are such few stories that really resonate with me? and we are generally being bombarded with very meaningless stories/media, just regurgitating the same shit over and over again (disney live action remakes are a good example of that trend, saying that as someone who was always a fan of disney if you couldn't guess by my username lol, and hasn't seen any of the remakes bc i simply Do Not Care, stopped caring around 2014 when maleficent came out). if you asked me to name a wlw story, or even a woman-centric story that doesn't involve a male love interest, that i really, truly enjoy, i feel like i'd struggle a bit. we get a lot of storylines in media that, imo, lack substance, and are often audience pandering (idk why supergirl came to mind, but it's a good example i feel). and tbh, the audience isn't picky. most people will just watch whatever lol, and honestly good for them but i Cannot lol. it needs to Hit A Spot for me. as for books, there is a better choice there i feel, but a lot of it is ya novels and i am simply not interested in that lol. no shade, but it's just not something i like to read. i want an old hollywood style romance with lesbians. i want phantom of the opera, i want the Drama(TM), i want a fucking hugh grant cheesy movie with lesbians. and so that's what i like to write -- just things i always wanted but never had lol.

i feel like in my works the Themes(TM) that appear a lot are:

1. loneliness and finding something or rather someone that quenches the thirst for company in a way that matters (i have always found irl that there's a lot of people who listen but don't hear what you're saying, and since i was a child i was always searching for people who will genuinely try to understand where i'm coming from and not just immediately try to put me in a box in their mind so they can Place Me somewhere and understand me in their own language. can you try to understand me in mine?)

2. pondering of morality, what's right and wrong and is there such a thing, rejecting and questioning societal norms.

3. a lot of kinky lesbian sex lol, through which i like to explore the psyche of the characters (or sometimes i'm just horny lol and sexuality and kink is something i like to think about a lot, esp bc my formative years were so traumatic in that aspect)

4. very character driven plots/characters changing their own fate or what *should* happen to them

5. the Intricacies of interpersonal relationships/developing a deep connection with someone and generally exploring emotional connection

6. this will be most prominent in the thing i am yet to post but is almost written, but i do enjoy some horror elements, gothic horror to be specific! i guess it's all the gothic novels i read in my youth :))

[froschli96]

FUCKING THANK YOU! FINALLY SOME GOOD FUCKING FOOD. this is the kind of analysis i’ve been craving! (there’s only so many times i can go looking for some actual character analysis for altaïr only to be bombarded with comments of "yeah, altaïr is so cool bc he has a synchonization bar, not a health bar, which means he was never hit!" before i go bashing my head against a wall. why are redditors always so obsessed with who would win in a fight?)

Additionally, something I don’t think the games actually delve into enough is the “corruption” of the apple on Altaïr. Like, we hear about it, or people throw accusations, and we hear bits of dialogue, but we never actually see it for ourselves.

like, yes yes yes, all of this! a thousand times this! the apple and its effects were so fucking underutilized it’s criminal!!

THAT should have been the central conflict of his story in revelations! not whatever the fuck was going on with abbas (i guess darby came fresh from reading "storytelling 101" which stipulates you give your hero personal stakes or whatever idk) THAT is what his codex implies to be the source of his inner conflict after the events of ac1.

like, the ending of ac1 itself was so ominous, where you’re left wondering, did he manage to destroy it? obviously not, bc the templars got their hands on it at some point. so what happened??

there’s all these small hints:

"[Your master] is only human, as are we all. You as well." (king richard’s last words to altaïr)

"Risky to separate myself from the artifact that others may discover it. Riskier still to keep it close. In time I will be tempted. I am weak. We all are. Who wouldn't be? Oh, the things I have seen…" (codex, pg. 26)

"But I have sworn to be done with the artifact. To not gaze into its core. Still: faced as I am with the prospect of my end, what harm is there in one last look…" (codex, pg. 30)

and of course: "Destroy it! Destroy it as you said you would!" - "I… I can’t" - "Yes, you can, Altaïr. But you won’t."

all of this was pointing to how it’s very likely that altaïr, despite his character development and his best efforts, will still end up being tempted by the apple (tho MAYBE in the future someone else would manage to actually withstand it… as much as i love altaïr (evidently), AC was never the story of the ancestor. it was DESMOND’s story, but that’s a whole other topic)

and if we had actually had that: altaïr in the end still succumbing to the apple, then i would still, for my own peace of mind, ignore canon and pretend my blorbo lived happily after lol. but i would be satisfied with his story because it was actually brought to its natural conclusion that was already implied at the end of ac1 and then reinforced in the codex. (NOW i have to ignore canon bc it’s absolutely nonsensical.)

would it have been extremely depressing? fuck yes. is it a nicer thought to imagine that he did mostly withstand the apple and manage to actually use it for good? of course it is!

(though, tbh, to me altair using the apple to invent all of ezio’s gadgets and his statue-cameo in the sanctuary have always felt more like fan service rather than them wanting to give closure to altaïr’s story

and it was also just a convenient way to not have to have ezio having to grapple with the same questions as altaïr, bc he can just learn from the guy himself.

like, as someone who loves altaïr, of course it was at first really cool to see his influence even all these centuries later with ezio, but i also feel like it was kind of like ubisoft going: "ok, since altaïr’s done all the work for us in reforming the brotherhood, the assassins are now the Good Guys (TM) so we don’t have to really bother with critically discussing the assassin ideology and their creed anymore (you know, the thing that the entire franchise is named after?) and can now focus on character-driven stories exclusively, preferably with some flavor of revenge plot."

it's also kind of funny how in the codex altaïr keeps angsting about the dangers of the apple and how he must seal it away to keep it away even from himself and then in revelations he just goes "fuck it, we ball" and uses it to destroy a whole mongol army lmao. like, i have to hand it to revelations, that is kind of hilarious.

Overall, while I do enjoy bloodlines, one big gripe I have with it is I WISH we could have seen hints of Altaïr being corrupted. For example, when he whips out the Apple on the crowd and controls them, that’s HORRIFYING????? And it’s especially horrifying for Altaïr’s character because HE WAS CONTROLLED BY THE APPLE?? SO WHY WOULD HE DO IT TO OTHERS, EVEN FOR GOOD?? This would be a great place to show he is still arrogant in some ways for believing he could even possible control it. I also wish Maria had actually called him out on it rather than her little “I’m not sure if I’d call your hands the right ones.” She just witnessed him mind control an entire crowd with that thing, WHY THE FUCK DID SHE NOT FREAK OUT ON HIM??

YES, that scene in bloodlines is so fucking creepy! tho i feel like it actually is supposed to be. but then nothing ever comes of it?? i think bloodlines was released alongside ac2, and ac2 introduced the codex in which altaïr does grapple with the temptation of the apple, so.. i guess maaaybe they actually were going to do something with it? but the tone of the game really doesn’t reflect that

(tbqh, i like the CONCEPT of bloodlines, but the execution…… i feel like altaïr is a completely different person there already. like i used to think "how come darby fucked up so bad with writing altaïr in revs, he did it before in bloodlines and that was fine!" but then i rewatched the cutscenes and realized that… actually no, that is already a completely different character. why does he suddenly act like an action hero who does quips and witty one-liners?

to me, the thing about altair (in ac1) is that basically, he has negative rizz that loops back around into coolness. like, he absolutely does say some hardcore shit but the thing that actually makes it cool is that he’s not trying to be, he’s just completely earnest. like, that man puts his whole assassussy into everything he does and says — not a single ironic bone in his body. honestly, most of the other protagonists would be way too self-conscious to say half the shit he does with a straight face. people aren’t really charmed by his words but inspired by his conviction and earnestness, i think. to me, that’s how he’s characterized in ac1…

but i do like maria’s characterization in bloodlines and i do love me a good enemies to lovers arc…*sigh*

that is really the root of why AC is so incredibly frustrating to me — it is so SO SO good IN THEORY but then so often just lands flat on its face when it comes to the execution. Combine with that the fact that basically none of the original creators are left and even with the earlier titles you can never say for certain what was intentional and planned from the start, what was added later and also what was possibly studio interference, and you’re left forever mourning what COULD have been.)

(I hope this doesn't come across as me saying that liking bloodlines is wrong somehow... just... i have my gripes with that game as well^^;)

This could’ve been a great way for us to see nuances into their relationship. Listen, I love Altaïr and Maria (and Malik) as a romantic relationship because it really does fit, but I also think it would’ve been far more interesting to see just how much of an impact the Apple had on them. For instance, maybe Altaïr was a better father and husband when Darim and Sef were younger, but overtime as he delved deeper into the Apple and its contents, he became far more distant and rooted in the Brotherhood.

yes, thank you, that is delicious! like, THAT would’ve been interesting! you don’t need to add abbas to give altaïr’s story some personal stakes, you already have his fucking FAMILY that can provide conflict! GOD! darby, take notes! as it is i do think altaïr and maria's relationship is kind of underdeveloped unfortunately. we just have the database telling us that SOMEHOW between bloodlines and revelations they end up together and are now inseparable. like, I WANNA SEE THAT SHIT! and i also would have LOVED to see some conflict with malik bc of the apple as well. or for that matter, i would have just loved to see malik at all akjsdfhjdkkdskjasdhfjhjhjhjhjhjh

I feel like what works best for Altaïr as a character flaw in regard to his personal life and the brotherhood is his hubris. Like, if you’re gonna do shit with him, you can show how it evolves but remains a flaw. For example, in AC1 it’s about how he thinks he’s better than everyone and above the creed and thus has mentally dehumanized everyone because that’s what he was taught to do. By the end of the game, he is much wiser and kinder because he CHOOSES to be. But he’s still human, and I don’t think that arrogance would just go away. Again, Altaïr being arrogant in believing he could control or understand the Apple would be a great way to show that because it just develops him further while still demonstrating how that key flaw is his downfall.

This! why turn him into a different character? there is already so much here that you can use! god, i love that, he had his arc in ac1, but his arrogance doesn’t go away, it just changed, it is still there but now it manifests as him believing that he can actually control this thing ("rip to al mualim but i’m different" <- something altaïr would unironically say), and even that it is his duty bc he is the only one who can. like, that is a pretty arrogant thought to have, to think you are so special that you can just play with fire and also that you are the ONLY one who can.

while we're on the topic of the apple though and since you mentioned ecclesiastes...

another thing that I’ve been thinking about with the apple and it’s "corrupting" influence, is kind of a different angle (something that might just be me overanalyzing): i would also really like the apple to have a less "malicious" corrupting power, but something that speaks more to human nature itself.

(to be clear, i don’t think this is what was intended by the devs, it’s just me probably putting meaning where there is none or if there is it might be an accident)

in a way i think you could argue that the greatest temptation of the apple is to accept the "truth" that humans, if left to their own devices, will wreak only death and destruction and thus need to be controlled in order to achieve "peace".

the apple is capable of showing past, present and future and thus all the ways in which humans can inflict cruelty upon one another. if you’re constantly witnessing that, like altaïr is implied to while studying the apple, then what other conclusion can you come to than that humanity is evil.

after all it is such a nice and simple explanation for everything bad in the world and conveniently leaves you with only one single solution — the one of the templars: to use the apple for its intended purpose.

"I applied my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also was a chasing after wind, for in much wisdom is much grief. And he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow."

like, I always read that as meaning that the apple’s gift is "knowledge" about humanity ("to know madness and folly" could be read as "to know human nature", specifically, humanity's wickedness), and the danger of this knowledge is that it could make you lose your faith in, and your love for humanity and end up stoking your contempt for it (which is what, I’d argue, is the central characteristic of the templar ideology — the templars SAY they want the best for humanity, but they are motivated by a HATRED for it (vidic: "The world's a mess. It’s pathetic, really. You've seen it first-hand yourself: a thousand years between you and your ancestor and society remains just as barbaric. Just as stupid."))

personally, i REALLY would have liked this kind of angle, of saying that the knowledge provided by the apple itself isn't bad or corrupting in and of itself, it is neutral. it’s the "truths" the wielder gleans from this knowledge that can be dangerous. (vidic: "it’s part of what makes the animus so spectacular — there’s no room for misinterpretation." desmond: "There’s always room.")

in that case, no amount of isu dna would make you immune to this kind of "temptation" bc it is not the apple itself that would "corrupt" you, but your own mind twisting what you see in it, the ILLUSION of a fundamental understanding of the world, of "knowledge".

this is why the "nothing is true." part of the creed is so important, bc accepting something as absolute, unchangeable truth can be dangerous (especially the notion that humans are predestined to only ever be bad)

(realistically, as i said, i don’t think that was ever really something the devs were going for, though, considering everything that came after ac1 (can you tell yet that i’ve lost any and all faith in both the current and the original developers?) — it’s just an idea i thought was kinda cool (and that possibly doesn't even make sense idk). that’s probably also why i like ac1 so much, bc the lore is still really minimal and mysterious and you have so much freedom to play around with these ideas and there’s so many little quotes that you can interpret in so many different ways, even if maybe they weren't intended to be

but really, i don't care, i’ve simply decided for myself, death of the author style, that the meaning i will take from ac1’s story is that hating humanity is the ultimate temptation bc blaming humans for their own plight is easier than to see the fault in the systems they live in and trying to actually change THOSE in order to help people and change the world, and the templars are dangerous because they have succumbed to that ultimate temptation. bc once in a while i do like to take positive pro-humanity meaning from stories.)

anyways…. um…. sorry for another massive wall of text… i hope at least half of it makes sense and isn’t just me rambling incoherently………^^;

apparently i really could talk about this game forever, the whole script is basically burnt into my brain at this point (and i guess I'm also really enthusiastic about finding others who want to talk about it...)

You know what, fuck it, I have to speak my truth! (this is gonna be a rant, so anyone who actually likes assassin's creed revelations and/or the secret crusade, be warned or maybe don't read this at all)

remember how altaïr talks to king richard at the end of ac1, and richard is like "[humans] come into the world kicking and screaming, violent and unstable. it is what we are. we cannot help ourselves."? and how altaïr answers "no. we are what we choose to be." and how that ACTUALLY has meaning bc he himself was "violent and unstable" at the beginning of the game but he has learned and is now CHOOSING to be a better person who cares about others and humanity at large? remember how his calmness and gentleness was something that he ACQUIRED over the course of the story?

and remember how in revelations they then suddenly had a PRE-AC1 altaïr say about the first of his targets "no man should pass from this world without knowing some kindness." and be all wise and calm and collected during a nice little chat with al mualim, who suddenly acts all fatherly? (like, this is suddenly supposed to be a positive relationship? what??)

also, during the confession the target says to altair: "you put too much faith in the hearts of men, altaïr. [...] humans are weak, base, and petty." and altaïr answers: "no. our creed is evidence to the contrary." KJASJFJDKL???? like, it’s almost insulting how close this exchange is to the one with richard. you know, the one that was actually earned after a whole game of character development. like WTF??? cool congrats now that development means nothing. like, apparently that was just altaïr reverting BACK to being the exemplary assassin who understands and believes in the creed that he was apparently just born as. (i also hate how having a young inexperienced altaïr saying this implies that altaïr's faith in humanity is a sign of naivete instead of a sign of the wisdom he has gained after being confronted with counter arguments for a whole game, and also something that distinguishes the assassins from the templars who use humanity's supposed wickedness to justify controlling them like in AC1, but whatever)

altaïr’s development in AC1 mattered BECAUSE he is not NATURALLY a good person, it actually said something about humanity's capacity for both bad AND good and how humans don't have to be forced to be good through mind control bc they can by their own free will choose to be better when taught how and when allowed the freedom to grow. but no. apparently altaïr has just always been calm, wise and gentle. and he just sort of forgot about that during AC1 bc…. ? bc of adha?? bc of abbas???

oh don’t get me started on the whole abbas thing. (it doesnt even make sense that abbas is so hung up about his father and "his family’s honor", like what about the whole point of al mualim not allowing parents to be close to their children bc it would make them weak? like, my dude, you’re not supposed to HAVE any family aside from the brotherhood)

they used the throwaway character that had like 5 lines and made him into altaïr’s main antagonist in revelations… like, abbas wasn’t supposed to be this ONE dude who had personal beef with altaïr, he was just supposed to show how while altaïr’s revered by many, a lot of his brothers also hate him, bc 1) altaïr is a shitty person at this point and 2) bc there’s no real feeling of community and family in this version of the brotherhood, but just a pervasive sense of competition and jealousy — these assassins don’t care about their goal of safeguarding humanity bc they’re too hung up on petty squabbles and divided by rivalries (you know, the things that made malik hate altaïr even before solomon’s temple and that he overcomes in the end which enables him to forgive and to reconcile with altaïr so they can work together and stop al mualim? (you ever just think about "we are one. as we share the glory of our victories, so too should we share the pain of our defeat. in this way we grow closer. we grow stronger." and cry? bc i do. all the time. malik, the man that you are))

and now abbas is altaïr’s childhood best friend turned lifelong enemy?? like, bowden bent over backwards to come up with an explanation for why altaïr is an arrogant ass at the beginning of AC1, when the explanation is right there: he was raised to kill without asking questions and was constantly praised for how good he is at murder, which resulted in him becoming arrogant and disregarding human life. like, it doesn’t have to be some shakespearean family feud type shit. and guess what, this "simple" explanation actually plays into the story’s themes, who’da thunk!

(like, abbas might not have been a "fleshed out" character in AC1, but he had a specific function and now that function is gone. mr bowden, mr mcdevitt, you know characters are allowed to simply exist to tell us something about their worlds and the systems they live in and sometimes that’s more important and also more interesting than having every single character have a detailed backstory to explain all their behaviors, right?)

with all of this revelations loses all nuance in regards to the levantine brotherhood and also the creed in general. like, altaïr being a master assassin at the beginning despite being a terrible person and not actually understanding the creed is a criticism of the brotherhood and the creed itself. like, it said something about the order that someone like altaïr was able to get that high in rank, simply bc he's good at killing, which also tells us what is considered important in the al mualim era assassin order. when you make altaïr’s arrogance the result of his personal conflicts instead of how we was raised by a brotherhood that only valued one's ability to kill, you lose that characterization of the assassin order itself!

and by suddenly making al mualim a semi good "father figure" you also downplay his manipulation of not only altaïr but all those under his care. (altaïr says something about al mualim being "as a father" to him exactly twice in the codex, but he doesn’t mean by that that he WAS a father to him, what he means is that he was the CLOSEST THING he had bc HE DID NOT HAVE PARENTS, not because his mother died in childbirth and his father was executed when he was young btw, BUT BECAUSE IT WASN’T ALLOWED, like his parents actually lived but weren’t allowed to be close to him, he says he came to view al mualim’s "weak and dishonest" love as enough and even better BECAUSE HE HAD NOTHING ELSE, BECAUSE AL MUALIM ISOLATED HIS ASSASSINS FROM THEIR FAMILIES. al mualim "loved" him bc he was good at killing people for him! hm, i wonder if this could be trying to say anything about cults and indoctrination and the inherent contradiction in fighting for peace and free will by taking children away from their parents and raising them to become killers?? like, altaïr wasn't ~the special orphan boy~ taken in by al mualim bc his father died a hero's death, it was "the way of the order" to have al mualim be the closest thing to a parental figure for everyone to ensure absolute loyalty! altaïr saying al mualim was like his father is not supposed to make you go "oh, he must have actually been a good guy for altaïr to consider him a father", it should make you go "oh that's kinda fucked up that he considers the dude who made him into a killing machine and who manipulated him a sort of father figure"!)

and then in revelations they suddenly portray that relationship as positive and healthy??? like, it would be one thing to give it some nuance by delving into the psychology behind al mualim’s "love" and maybe showing how al mualim did care about altair in a complicated, fraught sort of way (like, you know, there’s a lot of interesting things you could say about al mualim at several points addressing altaïr as "my child" in AC1 and how that parallels Garnier referring to the people he drugged and abused as his "children", and what that says about how the templars view the people who they say they want to save and in whose best interests they supposedly act (in any case, al mualim doesn’t use that phrase because he has any real parental feelings but rather to patronize and to invalidate any objections, like in a "mother knows best" way))

but they even fucking DARE to parallel that relationship with that of altaïr and darim in revelations, by having the reflection in the puddle of darim hugging altaïr showing altaïr hugging al mualim…. like their relationship wasn’t inherently abusive but just tragically cut short because al mualim was just "corrupted by the apple"… like WHAT???? so it’s not the very real problems like grooming, manipulation and indoctrination and the hierarchical structure of the brotherhood itself (all of which are antithetical to the assassin ideology), it was just the evil apple all along. great. that’s DEFINITELY a lot more interesting.

god im sorry i really dont want to spread negativity but this is driving me INSANE. like, somebody please tell me im not crazy bc i feel like somehow most of the fandom is in agreement that revelations and the secret crusade have better storytelling and characterization than ac1.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, can we talk about how, even IF we completely ignore AC1 and treat revelations altaïr as his own character…. the narrative still doesn’t really work?

basically, the whole point of his story in rev is that "he gave his whole life to the brotherhood", this obsession led to him not using his time with his family which has him ending up dying alone in a dark library and this in turn makes ezio reevaluate his life choices…. except. he doesn’t? neglect? his family? or whatever? like, his devotion to the assassins is sort of painted as this tragic flaw that leads to a lonely death bc it supposedly comes at the cost of his family, but… his wife has joined the assassins, (at least) one of his sons is in the brotherhood and even when he goes to protect the assassins against the mongols, he takes his family with him (except for the son who stays behind bc he has a family of his own and who, ironically, ends up dying bc of that)… like, you can’t describe altaïr as a good husband and father in the database and have his son tell him that "everything that is good in me began with you, father" when they say goodbye, and then want to make us believe that he put his family behind the brotherhood and that that is a character flaw that leads to his tragedy.

because you HAVE to have a character’s tragedy be the result of a character flaw. like. that is how tragedies work. otherwise it just becomes tragedy for the sake of tragedy which is… boring bc it has no purpose. and we know it is SUPPOSED to have purpose bc ezIO FUCKING QUITS BEING AN ASSASSIN AFTER WITNESSING IT!

it’s like they want to have their cake and eat it, too — they didn’t want to actually make altaïr a bad husband/father, but still wanted to make his life a tragedy where he loses his family which is why instead they outsource all responsibility to abbas who now has to be the reason for ALL the deaths.

like, they try to make at least maria’s death kind of sort of the result of altaïr’s rashness or whatever but like… these guys KILLED THEIR SON and TOLD HIM THAT ALTAÏR HAD ORDERED HIS DEATH. like, altaïr losing it in response to that is not rash, it’s fucking logical and justified! if anything the scene made me angry at maria for trying to stop him. like, GIRL, he was YOUR son too??? but god forbid we give female characters actual real emotions, she has to fill the role of "voice of reason who dies for altaïr’s man pain" i fucking guess.

like, it’s this weird mix where his tragedy is simultaneously painted as his own fault but also not really bc abbas is the one responsible for all the shit that happens. it just… it just doesn’t really go together.

the only way to make his story make sense narratively and to give it actual purpose is by looking at it in the context of ezio’s story, bc the things he sees in altaïr’s memories are supposed to be a revelation (ha!) to ezio specifically. and i guess that’s maybe the crux of it all — altaïr’s story in revelations was conceived of first and foremost to support ezio’s story and development. which is probably also why many people maybe don’t notice bc, having skipped ac1 and started with ac2, the majority of people mostly care only about ezio and only really appreciate altaïr’s story in as far as it serves to push ezio forward. (tho i’ve also seen a few people say that ezio is also written kind of weird in rev, but i’ve never really been an ezio girly myself so i can’t speak to the truth of that)

like, altaïr dying alone in the library doesn’t really have to make sense for his character, i guess, bc it’s only really supposed to be a cautionary tale for ezio.

so, i guess, for once, they actually had a MAN dying for another man’s character development, which is pretty woke actually. ubisoft, i take everything back jksdsfjhgdsahfhsdhfghfdsgjhsdgjh

[thattimdrakeguy]

I’m not social scientist, if that’s even a thing, but I gotta be honest, I don’t feel like Chris Rock was tryna be a dick. Like saying she could be in a movie about a bad ass woman isn’t exactly an insult.

I can get why the specific context for it would lead her to be sensitive about it. The intention doesn’t always end up causing the reaction they wanted. That’s natural.

But I just can’t really feel like Chris Rock was trying to be malicious. It was in bad taste, assuming he knew about her condition.

I’m seeing a lot of ‘WHAT IF--’ blah blah blah sort of nonsense a lot online today, but ultimately I don’t see the point, because this isn’t about imaginary hypotheticals. I’m also seeing a lot of people act like Chris Rock is misogynistic, or even racist (Which I can’t comprehend how that works in this situation.)

For me I plain don’t think he meant anything that bad to begin with. It was a risky joke that he probably should’ve realized was in terrible bad taste. ‘Cause either she’s going to think it’s funny, maybe slightly a bit empowering if she happens to think G.I. Jane was a good movie and liked that character, or be a bit pissed ‘cause, well, she’s sensitive about being fucking bald, which she has the right to be.

But given what he actually said in the end, I don’t think he deserved to get smacked and cussed at over it.

Jokes can hurt. And while I don’t advocate violence, there are times where I’m not gonna act like Mr. Virtuous over it, ‘cause fuck it, sometimes people get hit for something they say and it’s hard to act like it isn’t just, you know?

So I’m just speaking in the context of what happened in this very specific situation.

I think people have a bad habit of reading way too far into things. And I also think people pretending like someone should be physically attacked for all the more that was actually said are way too excitable, and anyone acting like Chris Rock is some statement of free speech are being ridiculous.

It was a risky, and very potentially insensitive (I don’t feel like he was making fun of her condition specifically to say all the way insensitive) joke, that ended up hurting someone’s feelings, and someone got ahead of themselves--but also had some very worrying excuse for it that I don’t think warrants what he did the way he and some others think.

Like even though I’m more titled to Chris Rock’s side, I think people calling him “The Adult In The Room” when he’s the one that made a joke in potential poor taste (Depending if he knew or not) is silly.

It’s an overall dumb situation.

Regarding if Will Smith should be arrested. It’s up to Chris Rock, man. I don’t think it’s any of our business. If the guy that was assaulted doesn’t wanna press charges, then I respect the decision. Like, if they want to handle a different way than bringing police into it, then so be it. It’s up to him.

We’re not living their lives.

Also I seen someone blame Jada, but like, wtf, she has the right to be upset about it. I don’t think it’s right to blame someone who’s sensitive about a damn medical condition. She can’t control her husband. He’s his own man, he can make his own choices. I don’t think that should immediately reflect on her.

[aomine-ryo]

hey! could i please request gom headcanons whee their s/o is kissing their faces and just being really affectionate w the boys?

My heart just melted while I was writing the one for Akashi idk why 😭 I hope you like this!! xx

Headcanons: GOM with an s/o that’s being really affectionate

Kuroko

He absolutely loves it when you’re affectionate

Especially when you two are alone

One kiss from you would be returned by at least five kisses from him

He gets very flustered when you do it in public though, so you tend to keep that to a minimum

One afternoon, the two of you were at his house to study together but you kept playing around with Nigou and randomly placing kisses on his cheeks

“Y/N, don’t you think you should focus?”

“I’m sorry, you just look really cute today,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and clinging onto him tightly

He wanted to be more stern about it, but you began to leave kisses all over his face and neck, which brought a smile onto his face

“That’s sweet but—“

Nigou then pounced onto him, reaching to lick his face as both of you began to giggle

“See, even Nigou thinks so,” you grinned

“Alright alright,” Kuroko laughed, pulling Nigou off of him and trying to gain some composure, “I guess we can take a break for a bit.”

Next thing you knew, Kuroko tackled you to the floor and began to attack you with light kisses

And just like that, studies were completely out of the question as both of you got caught up in giggles and hugs

Kise

This boy is the human embodiment of a puppy

Any affection from you will make his eyes light up with excitement

So days where you get extra affectionate are his absolute favourite

You spotted him waiting for you outside of school once, but he didn’t seem to notice you, so you decided to sneak up on him

You pounced on his back and your legs straddled his hips as you began to bombard him with kisses on his cheek

Taken off guard, Kise panicked for a moment at the sudden weight on his back, but as soon as he felt your lips on his skin, he began to ease

“Someone is in a good mood today,” Kise grinned as you hopped down to face him

“I’m just happy to see my lovely boyfriend,” you beamed, making his heart melt

Kise didn’t really care that he was in public and everyone could see him, he immediately held your face in his hands and kissed you all over

“Ryouta stop, that tickles,” you giggled

“But your laughs are so cute,” he mumbled as he continued what he was doing

You smiled at his sweet words and began to ease as you let him kiss you to his heart’s content— receiving affection is just as good as giving it after all

Eventually, he stopped and let go of your face, only to intertwine his fingers with yours

“You done now?” you asked sarcastically

Kise brought the back of your hand to his lips and nodded

He was so happy at this point that he was practically skipping as he walked

That’s how it always was with Kise: you could never win in a game of affection

You would try to smother him with kisses, but he wouldn’t just take it; he’d always make it his mission to return the love— just ten times more

You didn’t mind too much though, you liked knowing that just a little bit of affection from you made him as cheery as ever

Aomine

My god, he does not know how to be on the receiving end of affection

The two of you would be hanging out in his living room and you’d decide to climb onto him and kiss his face and he’d just get really flustered

He’d much rather be the one clinging onto you and attacking you with his kisses than the other way around

He just never knew how to respond when you kiss him like that out of the blue

“What are you doing?” he’d ask you, chuckling slightly

“What does it look like? I’m kissing you, dummy,” you replied sarcastically as your hands cupped his face

“But why?” he asks, colour rising in his cheeks as your face was so close to his

You pulled away for a moment and looked him in the eye before giggling, “What kind of question is that? Because you’re my boyfriend and I love you?”

A small grin spread across his flustered face— hearing you say those words always brought him comfort

You were about to go back to kissing him, but his hands suddenly gripped your face, forcing you to look into his dark blue eyes

“I love you too,” he said, sincerity oozing from his tone as your entire body just softened

And just as you had expected, Aomine pressed his lips against yours

He didn’t seem to be stopping his kisses after that though, because he proceeded to just leave kisses of his own on your neck

He was never one to just accept affection for too long— he had to show you how much he loved you

Midorima

Like Aomine, he does not know how to take affection

He always gets incredibly flustered

Like, his cheeks become as red as a cherry

One afternoon, you were over at his house and he was just seated on the couch, engrossed in a book

With you being in a rather affectionate mood, you skipped over to him and took a seat on the couch too, swinging your arms around him and kissing his cheek

And like clockwork, his face was painted a shade of red

You continued to leave kisses all over his face, which only made him even redder

“W-What are you doing?” He asked, putting down his book on his lap

“Kissing my amazing boyfriend,” you said simply

“Oh,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips as he picked his book up again

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked

As much as you loved to make him blush like he was, you also didn’t want to be too much of a bother to him

“No, no,” he shook his head almost immediately, “keep going— if you want.”

He’d never say it straight, but he loved the affection

Albeit it did make him incredibly flustered at first, he’d quickly ease into it

He adored the way your soft lips left kisses all over his face

It was almost reassuring to him; he knew that it meant that you still loved him

Sometimes, though it was very rare, he’d just return all the affection with one very passionate kiss on your lips

And when he did that, it was like the roles were reversed, and suddenly you were the one with the bright red cheeks

Murasakibara

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: he is CLINGY

He loves any attention you’d give him

So there is no doubt that he’d absolutely melt whenever you decided to be affectionate with him

So once, when he wasn’t already clung onto you, you decided to envelop him in the biggest hug you could muster while he was watching a game on the tv

You didn’t hesitate to kiss his face all over too

It was definitely a surprise to him, but it was a very welcome one

Almost immediately, a huge smile spread across his face as he hugged you back tightly, stopping your kisses as your head now moved so that your chin was resting on his shoulder

His smile somehow grew even wider when he heard you giggle

After placing a few light kisses on your shoulder, he loosened his hold on you a little so that you could pull away slightly and face him

He looked into your eyes for a few moments as your fingers began to twirl the ends of his hair

Neither of you needed to say anything to know what the other was thinking— there was nothing but love in both of your eyes

“Aren’t you gonna continue kissing me, Y/N-chin?” he pouted, feeling at ease as you continued to play with his hair

“Oh you want more?” you smiled

“Of course I want more,” he said, kissing your cheek, “what kind of question is that?”

After letting out a small chuckle, you leaned in and gave his lips the biggest kiss you could, before carrying on with your small little kisses all over his face and neck

And no matter how many times you’d kiss him, he’d never get tired of it for even a moment

Akashi

You were feeling particularly affectionate one evening, but your boyfriend was caught up in some work that he was determined to finish

Yearning for affection, you made your way to Akashi’s desk and hugged him from behind his chair

“Seiii,” you dragged on after placing a quick kiss on his cheek, “are you done with your work yet?”

“Not yet my love, sorry. This work just never seems to end,” he complained, glancing at you for a moment before continuing to scribble something down on his notebook

“That sucks,” you pouted, glaring at his laptop spitefully

You didn’t want to let go of him though

Once you clung onto him, it was hard to let go

So you just remained there with your arms around him, watching him do his work

It didn’t take long for you to get bored, and you ended up smothering his face with kisses, making him chuckle slightly at the ticklish sensation

“Y/N, you’re being a little distracting don’t you think?” He said voice firm yet loving, as his brain knew that he should be telling you to stop, but he genuinely enjoyed it

“Sorry, I can’t help myself; how can I not kiss a face like yours?”

Akashi sighed and put his pen down as he turned slightly so that he could look you in the eye

“I suppose I can take a tiny break,” he grinned as he pulled you onto his lap

He had his arms wrapped around your waist while yours were swung around his neck, and the two of you were smiling like idiots

He then began to leave kisses that were soft as a feather all over your neck and cheek and your giggles began to fill the room

“Alright I’m going to get back to my work now,” he said once he felt as though he had made up for all the kisses you had given him

“Fine,” you pouted, shifting slightly to get off his lap

However, he just gripped onto your waist tighter to get you to stop, “Where are you going?” he questioned, causing you to furrow your eyebrows

“You just said that you were going back to your work...”

“Yes, but I want you to stay here,” he said simply as if it should’ve been blatantly obvious to you

You began to grin from ear to ear at the sound of those words

So you remained seated on his lap as Akashi continued his work

Of course, you didn’t stop kissing him whenever you felt like it, though he seemed unfazed by it

Every now and then, he’d return your kisses with kisses of his own

And to be honest, you made his work ten times more tolerable

[retrievablememories]

picture me | johnny (m)

title: picture me pairing: vampire!johnny x black!reader genre: fantasy, romance, smut, fluff, angst summary: you meet a vampire-slash-photographer whose self-identity is increasingly lost to him, and you try to help him find some purpose again. word count: 18.3k warnings: age gap (cuz you know, vampires...but everyone is legal), mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species, self-identity issues/self-deprecation, general angst, sheltered!reader, mentions of blood and drinking blood, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of lube, unprotected sex (do not try at home), creampie, johnny is packing in this fic ok! a/n: today (the 28th) is my birthday, so i’m posting this 100% self-indulgent fic that i’ve been working on between requests since september. it was very hard to get johnny’s characterization right for this fic and idk if i actually succeeded but i’m not revising this for the 1000th time lol. i love this fic with my whole heart tho.

i haven’t seen many vampire fics that really explore the whole “doesn’t show up in mirrors/photos” concept (shout em out if you know em) and...there’s probably a reason for that, this shit is hard af to write and there are some logic issues but whatever 🤪

(the beginning quote is from “criminal,” stan taemin!!)

The moment I fall for you is the end of my innocence

—

He sits in the same coffee shop everyday, like it’s a habit he just can’t break. But who are you to judge? You’re there, too. Watching him like a creep. Or maybe like an interested coffee shop patron, trying to be discreet and failing at it.

He wasn’t hard to notice. You’d never been to this coffee shop before, but your friend recommended it to you mostly for their in-house-made pastries; she claimed the coffee was good, too, but she wasn’t much of a caffeine person. You decided to give it a try when you had time between classes and a moment to breathe, not needing to talk to this advisor or that professor.

You saw him immediately when you walked past the shop window. He was sitting at a table near the front, staring down at his phone with a small cup of coffee sitting in front of him. Its miniscule size was almost comical in contrast to his...everything. He was tall—that much was obvious even with him sitting down—and imposing, wearing all black. His hair was equally pitch-black, his bangs hanging to one side and the rest shaved in an undercut. If you didn’t know much better, you’d think you’d stepped back into 2007 and landed dead in the middle of the emo craze.

He was interesting to look at. Not in a bad way, but in a way you don’t see very often. Deciding to walk in before you made yourself look totally weird staring at him through the window, you’d stepped into the coffee shop, the small bell dinging above your head. A barista greeted you at your entrance. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man, to your left, still looking at his phone.

You’d given your order and waited for it to be ready before taking it to a table on the other side of the shop. From that vantage point, you had a good view of the man. You tried to keep your eyes on your food and your phone, not wanting to spend the whole time looking at him, but it was a little hard not to.

When you took a bite of your pastry, you quickly discovered it was just as delicious as your friend promised—probably even more so. You made a noise of approval before you could catch yourself, and you glanced around the shop in embarrassment to see if anyone nearby noticed. Didn’t seem like it, at first. But then you glanced over to the man again only to find him looking at you below his eyelashes with a small, amused smile on his lips. He only kept his gaze on you for a second before returning to his phone.

What? You hadn’t thought you were that loud. How did he hear you from over there, and above the noise of the café? Even now, you remember how embarrassed you’d felt, ducking your head and looking away.

The man finished his coffee not long after that; he slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. You glanced up only momentarily when he stood, but your eyes soon slid back to his form when you noticed something odd. On the wall behind him, there was a big oval mirror sitting pretty in its elaborate silver frame. He stood just a few feet in front of it, yet there was no reflection of him. The only thing you could see was the other side of the café reflected back, with another man sitting alone at a booth enjoying his own coffee. The tall man’s reflection was nowhere to be found.

That was when you figured he must be a vampire.

You’d never met one before. At least, you didn’t think you had until then.

Unbeknownst to you, vampires are notoriously able to blend in more easily than most other supernatural beings—until faced with situations like that one in the coffee shop. Ultimately, there’s no faking a reflection no matter how hard you try to remain inconspicuous.

The man had caught your eye again. Thinking back on it, you aren’t sure of what expression you had on your face or what it must’ve looked like to him. It must’ve been something akin to surprise, though; you weren’t quick enough to disguise your reaction at his lack of a reflection.

He gave you another smile, though it felt sadder than the previous one, and walked out of the store, the small bell on the door ringing at his departure. He disappeared down the street in a swirl of black fabric, almost like something out of a movie, and you watched him retreat until you could see him no more.

You scraped your index fingernail over the wood table your food was resting on, your mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts. Your interest was piqued. And yet there was no way for you to know if you’d see him again.

—

At least, that’s what you believed then. Luckily for you, your subsequent visits to the coffee shop have proven fruitful; the strange, tall vampire is there more often than not, always in the same spot in front of that same mirror. Sometimes he reads a book, other times he looks at his phone, and other times still, he stares out the window at the passersby.

He acknowledges you whenever he sees you, either with a nod or a smile. You’ve never spoken to each other, though you know what his voice sounds like from hearing him talk to the baristas. It’s a nice voice, rich and handsome like him, and you find yourself gradually wanting to hear it spoken in your direction. But you aren’t sure how to talk to him, or what you should say.

There’s a lot you want to know about him and his vampirism, but you don’t think it’s fair to bombard him with questions right after meeting him—if you could somehow work up the nerve for that first step.

When you were young, your parents made sure to keep you safely sheltered away from anyone who could potentially be a vampire or any other nonhuman being. This game kept up until you went to college, where they could no longer “shield” you. Because of their lifelong fear and disgust, your knowledge of nonhuman beings is scarce and mostly inaccurate.

The man’s skin isn’t deathly pale like you’ve heard others say vampires always are. It’s nicely tanned, in fact. Nor are his eyes red, or his canine teeth abnormally sharp. And obviously, he has no aversion to sunlight, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here during the day. The only visible marker of his inhuman nature is his lack of a reflection. Maybe he’s not a vampire at all? Maybe he’s another type of being entirely. That only makes you more curious.

It’s not rare to come across supernatural beings, but they only make themselves known if they want to, or if it’s imperative to their survival. Most of them would rather quietly assimilate amongst humans or stay safe and hidden within their own communities. Humans are still too judgmental towards those who are different from themselves for nonhumans to feel truly safe or welcomed—at least not on a global scale. Small pockets of communities forged with human allies are helpful and sometimes vital for survival, but not always enough.

These small tidbits of information cycle through your mind as September gradually bleeds into October. You continue watching the thoughtful man in the coffee shop and making up your own secret theories about his life. You haven’t told anyone from school about this, because you already know the reaction would be nothing short of awful. Your parents would only let you go to school at the one university in the city that explicitly didn’t allow supernatural beings; it goes without saying that your classmates don’t view them in a positive light.

Part of you feels like you might be breaking the unspoken rules just by being at this coffee shop all the time and allowing this man to take up space in your mind. But who will know what’s inside your thoughts except you?

One day, your friend decides to accompany you on your lunch break, finally stopping by the café she recommended to you. The man is already there, as usual, and he smiles slightly when you and your friend enter. She doesn’t catch this, too busy wondering what she’s going to get off the menu today.

“I haven’t been here in forever, I wonder if Sam still remembers me?” You know Sam to be one of the baristas there, having read it on their name tag before.

“I doubt there are very many people who’d forget you,” you answer.

When you both have your food, you take a booth farther away from where the man sits, though you can still see him easily from this distance. Your friend settles into the seat in front of you.

You try to keep things inconspicuous throughout your conversation, but you must glance over at him one too many times, because your friend eventually raises her eyebrows questioningly. She turns around in her seat, making it obvious that she’s looking, and you groan as you keep your eyes in the opposite direction towards the window.

“Who’s that guy you keep staring at?”

You cough. “No one.”

“He’s obviously someone. Someone interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“I don’t know the man,” you say curtly. You shuffle your napkin and spoon aimlessly, your nervousness rising. What if he has some kind of enhanced hearing and can hear what you’re saying right now? He definitely heard you make that noise that first day.

Your friend looks at the ceiling and blows air out of her mouth. “Whatever. I’ll find out who he is sooner or later.”

You take a sip of your drink and lower your voice to just above a whisper. Although you want to leave the subject alone, you’re curious about one thing. “You mean you’ve never seen him before? This café was your hangout spot before it was mine.”

She shrugs. “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone as...visually striking as him. Why are we whispering, anyway? It’s not like he can hear us above all this noise.”

You think to yourself, I’m not so sure about that, but you merely shake your head.

You spend a few more minutes talking before movement catches the corner of your eye. At this point, it’s practically a reflex for you to look in that direction. You try not to, but your friend has already caught you and turns her head to spy, too. The man has gotten up for whatever reason to say something to one of the baristas at the counter. Your gaze darts back to your cup after you’ve gotten your eyeful, but you’re nearly startled into dropping the cup at your friend’s gasp.

Oh. The mirror.

She grips the edge of the table. “He’s a vampire…?”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you feel oddly guilty for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “U-um, I don’t know…?” You can hardly finish your thought before your friend is scrambling to grab her purse. She hurriedly stands out of the seat, tugging your arm as she does.

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you serious—?” You feel embarrassed heat rip through your body at her display; some other café-goers are already looking at her curiously, probably wondering what the hell she’s doing. She tugs more incessantly, and you already know she’ll get louder if you don’t get up now and defuse the situation. Leaving your half-full cup behind, you grab your things and follow her out of the store, keeping your eyes firmly on her back as you pass by the man. You don’t know if he looked up, or if he could sense the reason for your sudden departure—you’ve never left the shop before him until now—and you don’t want to know.

Neither of you talk until you’re well down the street and around the corner. “That wasn’t necessary,” you huff, your hands still sweating from the spiked adrenaline at suddenly being rushed out.

“Yes it was! We all know bloodsuckers and all these other weirdos are dangerous...even if they think they’re being well-intentioned by living among humans. I hope you don’t go back there.”

“Whatever...you’re the one who told me to visit the café,” you mumble, unable to muster up the energy to say anything more. You both know very well she can’t tell you where to go, but you hope she doesn’t mention this to your other acquaintances on campus and make it into a bigger deal than it is.

When you part ways with your friend and get back to your dorm, you realize you’re missing your planner. The planner with all your upcoming assignment dates in it. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, knowing it must’ve happened in the chaos of her pulling you out of the shop. Maybe if you’re really lucky, it’ll still be there, picked up by an employee or simply left untouched. Knowing how many people go through that café in a day, you’re not optimistic.

For the first time since visiting the quaint little shop, you’re not anticipating returning and seeing the man again, afraid he’ll ignore you or look at you with distaste—like you’re just another unsympathetic human. And would he be wrong to think that? You’re only strangers to each other.

You try not to dwell on it too hard when you go to bed that night.

When lunch rolls around the next day, you hesitate a couple times on your way to the café, not wanting to show up. However, the desire to see what became of your planner pushes you forward. You don’t even have to stay; if it’s there, you’ll take it and leave. If it’s not—oh well. You can still leave. It’s not hard to buy another.

He’s there when you arrive, of course.

He nods at you when you step inside, though he doesn’t smile as he’s become accustomed to doing. You nod back, but you can’t ignore the renewed rush of embarrassment you feel. You linger at the entrance for a second longer, wondering if maybe you should say something. Apologize, even? But what if he really didn’t know what was going on yesterday? Then how odd would you look for bringing it up?

You decide to move on and go back to the booth to search for your belongings, but his voice stops you. This takes you by surprise.

“Did you come back for this?”

You turn to him to see him holding your planner in his hand. You stare, momentarily dumbfounded, and almost shake your head before realizing it is yours. Definitely the same sticker-covered, scribbled-all-over planner.

“Oh—y-yeah. Thank you.” He passes it to you, though you notice he’s very careful not to let your hands touch. You’re a little perplexed about why, but then the rumors about vampires having cold skin pop up in your mind. Maybe that’s actually true, too. “I usually don’t lose things so easily, but…” Your voice falters, and you don’t know how to finish that sentence without bringing up the other day’s events.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he replies, “It happens to all of us sometimes...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my camera.”

“You take pictures?” you ask, a tinge of curiosity in your voice.

He nods. “I take photos of anything that interests me. Which often ends up being everything I see. I work at an art museum, so I guess having an eye for photography comes in handy.” He hesitates for a second, then says, “I could show you some?” He waves his phone, indicating that the photos are there.

“Oh, sure.” The man gestures for you to sit down in the empty chair in front of him, and you do so. He swipes through his phone a few times until he settles on what he’s searching for, then puts the device on the table and slides it to you. You lean forward to look at it and see that it displays an album full of pictures, simply titled with the emoji “🌌.”

“It’s okay, you can pick it up.” He chuckles. You pick up the phone and swipe through the numerous pictures. Many of them are nighttime shots of the moon, trees, half-empty streets, darkened storefronts. Others depict nature scenes at sunset or the beginning of sunrise, with the sky colored in darker hues. No matter what the subject matter is, they all look to be professionally taken, even for an iPhone.

“Wow, these are nice. You said you work at a museum…are you a professional photographer, too?”

The man shrugs, and as you look at his slight grin, you realize you still don’t know his name. “Something like that, I guess.”

“You should be if you aren’t already,” you say, looking through more photos. “I’m sure you’d make a lot of money.” When you reach the end of the album, you go to hand the phone back to him but realize he’ll probably want to avoid contact again, so you slide it across the table. He takes it and slips it into his pocket.

“I don’t really care about the money,” he responds. “I just like it because…” He trails off, unsure how to convey his thoughts, wondering if he should even get that personal with a stranger. “It...helps me pass the time.” He’s not quite satisfied by that answer—it doesn’t feel like enough—but it’s all he can think of on the spot.

“Well, that’s nice too. It’s always good to have a hobby just for the sake of it...not for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

“Do you have one?” He takes a sip of his coffee. You don’t expect to be asked about your own interests, and your mind goes blank as you try to think. Why does this always happen when I’m asked these kinds of questions?

“Um, just different things here and there.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, amused.

“It’s not that, I just don’t have a ton of hobbies or anything. I’m kinda boring, so…” And wasn’t allowed to do much of anything until I left home.

“Being boring isn’t always a bad thing.”

You lean back in your seat, shrugging slightly. “Maybe if you see it that way. My friends don’t.”

“Would one of those happen to be the same one who dragged you out of here yesterday?” He speaks casually, putting his cheek in his hand. You slump further down in your seat, feeling exposed. Of course there was no escaping this topic. He notices your mood shift and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel so bad about it. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry for all that mess,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Really, I am.” You stand up from the seat, gripping your planner. “Thanks again for this. I don’t want to take up any more of your time today.” You’re about to turn to leave when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know…you could talk with me whenever you feel like it.” That’s the last thing you expect him to say. His voice takes on a quality that’s...not what you’d call begging, but it’s clear he’d enjoy some company. Maybe he’s doing this for your benefit as well as his own, because it’s obvious how your eyes always stray to his little corner.

You nod, giving him an apprehensive smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

The rest of your day after that is uneventful, full of classes and unexciting lectures, but you keep thinking of one thing. Though he appears to enjoy his time in the coffee shop, how lonely must he really be? There’s never anyone else around him. His eyes when he’d spoken to you held a certain sadness.

And you still didn’t get his name.

You don’t see him for the next few days, mostly because you aren’t at the café. You’ve gotten busy with a new project and haven’t had as much time to return to the coffee shop, mostly spending your time in the library instead.

When you finally get a chance to buy lunch outside campus, he’s not there. This disappoints you more than you thought it would, and you wonder what his absence means. Did he just decide not to come today, or has he found another place to frequent? You kind of hope the second option isn’t the case, though you also don’t know why you’re even caring this much about where someone else goes on their own time.

You get a drink to-go this time, deciding you’ll just take it back to the library and continue your studies there. The entryway bell rings behind you as you wait for your order to be made, though you don’t pay it much attention; half of your mind is still occupied with what you need to do next for your project.

When you turn around to leave the shop with your drink, you’re surprised to see the man standing there, waiting to get his own coffee. “You’re late,” you blurt out. You immediately feel silly for saying it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gives you a slight smile. “Yes, I am.” Then he spots your to-go cup. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, well,” you glance at your drink, “are you staying?”

He nods as he steps up to the counter. “Yeah, I’m staying. My offer’s still open, by the way.”

Right. The offer to talk to him sometimes. You’re tempted to stay awhile and talk to him now, though you don’t even know what about. Your project? That’s boring. Him being a vampire? Too invasive. Your school? Also boring, and probably not the best idea considering which one you attend.

“I...think I’ll stay, then.”

You both sit at his usual table, with you grinning nervously.

“How are you? I noticed you hadn’t showed up in a while,” he asks, settling back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, I’m just busy with school stuff. These teachers don’t give us a break.” You laugh a little, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He grins. “I never did go to college, but I’ve always heard others talk about how tiring it is. And expensive.”

“They’re right.” You roll your eyes at the thought of it. “But I guess it’ll all be worth it in the end. Maybe. If the economy isn’t in the toilet.” The sound of his laughter is nice, and you’re glad you could make him laugh. “Also, I’m sorry—I don’t know how this flew under the radar, but I don’t know your name.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for, really. It’s Johnny.”

You tell him your name, too. “Since I haven’t seen you lately...how are you doing?” You circle your hands around your to-go cup, feeling its warmth transfer to your palms as you await his answer.

“I think I can say I’m the same as always—which is fine. Life slows down a little when you have a lot of time on your hands.” Johnny’s lips quirk up at that, and you think he might be referring to his vampirism. Your eyes widen a little.

“What’s that like? Having so much free time. I wouldn’t know much about that right now, but…”

“Maybe not as pleasant as you think it’d be. But there’s good in it. Like coming and going when you want to. And you can take up whatever interests you want without worrying as much about busy schedules.” You already know he’s alluding to his photography. “I do like having a job, though…it gives me structure.”

“You’re probably right…I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I had a ton of free time…like, which hobbies to pick up first.” You consider how you initially thought about him being lonely and wonder if that’s one of the unpleasant parts he hinted to. “Speaking of hobbies...did you take any new pictures lately?”

Johnny nods. “Most of them were on my camera this time, but some are on my phone. You want to see?”

“Yes!”

Johnny lets you have his phone again to look through the newest pictures he’s taken. There are varying shots of car-lined streets and storefronts, some of the latter decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns for the onset of October. A pigeon sits on a streetlamp during the daytime, holding its head up like royalty upon a throne. In another image, a stray cat and her kittens huddle in an alley, the babies grooming each other while the mother looks quizzically at the camera.

You recognize a few photos from the nearby park; he also had some pictures of it the last time you looked. “Do you go to this park often?”

“Yeah, it offers some great shots. It’s especially pretty if you go just before the sun sets...the light filters through the tree leaves and it looks kinda like a kaleidoscope.”

“Ah, I’ve never seen that before…” you say a little sadly. Your parents didn’t much like taking you to that park when you were younger because of how far it is from their house. And since living away from them, you’ve only been able to visit it during the early hours of the day—like now.

Johnny looks closely at you. “Would you ever want to?”

“If it’s as pretty as you say, I should.” You slide the phone back across the table to him, not catching what he’s trying to hint at as you keep talking. “Do you go anywhere else besides here and the park?” As soon as you say it, you realize this might sound a little rude and try to make a quick save. “I mean, do you have any other favorite places? I’m not trying to say you don’t have a life or anything!”

Johnny laughs at your slight panic at thinking you’ve offended him. “Nothing too out-there, I guess. The bookstore, the photography store, the theater. Pretty much all the same places others visit.”

“The movies are fun.” You trace your finger across the table’s surface, thinking of your own favorite spots. “Me and my friends like to go downtown. There are a lot of cute little shops down there…”

You and Johnny talk for a while longer, and you almost forget you have to get back to campus until you glance at the wall clock. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late.” Flustered, you jump out of your seat and crumple your empty cup. “Sorry to cut it short, Johnny, but I gotta go back now.”

He smiles good-naturedly and nods, his dark bangs sweeping his face. “I understand.” As he watches you gather your things and get ready to go, he speaks up again. “Actually, if you want to see the park at sunset sometime...I could show you? It’s up to you.”

You pause, suddenly curious at the thought of seeing him outside the café. In the back of your mind, you feel a little paranoid and afraid of your friend or maybe even your parents seeing you there with him, though the latter is extremely unlikely. It’s hard to shake that familiar fear of judgment and ostracism when it’s been ingrained in you since childhood. “That sounds good. If it’s not any trouble for you…?”

“Never too much trouble. I usually get off around 4 on Fridays, just before the sun sets at 5. Unless the weekend is better for you?”

You nod, holding your books tighter to your chest. “Friday will work for me! I’ll meet up with you then.”

Johnny smiles. “Great; I’ll see you then, kind stranger.”

Maybe he says it to be joking or quirky, to sound like one of those characters in a movie or drama, but it makes you smile. Nodding to him again, you step out of the café and rush towards the direction of your school. Johnny watches as you retreat, your roles reversed.

You meet up with Johnny at the park that Friday, just as you both agreed. You spot him sitting on a bench near the park entrance, waiting on your arrival.

Johnny’s wardrobe is still mostly dark, but it’s a little lighter than usual today. He’s changed things up with a white polo shirt underneath his black sweater. Seeing him dressed like this, you wonder what he’d be like as a student, or maybe even a university professor.

He stands up when you get closer, hearing the sound of your footsteps approaching and turning towards you. His camera sits safely around his neck, the lens catching in the light of the sun.

When you stop in front of him, he smiles at you warmly. You try to relax into the genuineness of that smile and ignore the still-lingering traces of anxiety about being out with him. “Hi, Johnny!”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You and Johnny walk around the park as he looks for something interesting to shoot. He snaps a few shots of the trees, fallen leaves, bushes, and other natural elements along the way, though it seems like he hasn’t quite captured what he wants yet.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you ask, peering at his camera as he holds it in his hands.

“There’s an aster bush around here,” he responds. “It hadn’t fully bloomed yet the last time I was here, but it should be open by now.”

It turns out he’s right as you two finally come up on the bush. Its blooms make bright purple smudges against the rest of the landscape, which is a monochrome red-and-orange palette from the leaves changing their hues. You watch as he comes up to the bush carefully and quietly, like it’s a small animal he’s afraid to scare away. Johnny is very attentive while taking pictures of it, always conscious of getting the correct lighting and securing the exact angles he wants to capture. “Compassionate” is not a word you’d usually associate with the act of taking photos, but that’s the only word you can currently think of to describe this display. He treats the flowers with a peculiar sense of respect, as if they’re a human subject.

After he’s gotten the images he wants, Johnny offers you his camera to take a few of your own. You’re anxious about holding his prized possession and are afraid you’ll find a way to mess something up, but he promises you it’s fine. You take a few shots of the sky, still with a few wisps of clouds left, and a nearby tree that’s almost stripped bare of leaves. You know the shots will probably end up blurry from your unsteady hands, but Johnny tells you you’ve done a good job anyway.

Something about getting his approval makes a pleasant warmth settle in your chest.

As you both walk down a long trail, you finally ask him, “Sorry if this is invasive, but I was wondering how old are you? Like...as a vampire.” Your voice becomes hesitant on the word vampire, even though you’re the only two in this part of the park.

He chuckles a bit. “I’m 85.” You try not to look surprised. “I’ve been turned for 60 years. Old, but probably a little younger than most vampires you’d think of.”

“Kinda,” you say quietly. “They’re always like 2,000 years old in movies.”

“The ancient vampires are purebloods. They keep to themselves and avoid mingling with turned vampires, let alone humans. Some people are even skeptical if they exist. Supposedly, they use humans as servants or blood banks.” He gives you an apologetic look after saying this, though you don’t really know why. You don’t get the feeling he’d do that to another being, but he is still mostly a stranger... “At least, that’s what my mentor told me.”

Your curiosity is roused at all this new knowledge. “You had a mentor?”

“An older woman. She was also a turned vampire.”

“Turned, huh…”

Johnny nods, toeing at a small pile of leaves on the ground. “She went away eventually, said people are meant to pass in and out of each other’s lives. I don’t think she ever had intentions to stay. But I enjoyed her company while she was there.” Johnny stops at a short bridge above a small manmade lake, and you both look down into the water.

You place your arms on the bridge railing so you can lean over more. You notice he doesn’t have a reflection in the water, and this startles you more than you expected. Before meeting this strange man, you’d never thought much before about why vampires don’t have mirror reflections, but it seems even more unnatural to see this phenomenon happen again in the lake.

You find yourself looking at the side of Johnny’s face, trying to read his expression as he peers into the water’s depths. He turns to you, and you flinch at being caught staring, but he only smiles slightly. You force yourself to form words and break the silence. “What—what did you do after she left?”

“Lived on my own. She taught me a lot of things to help me live independently as a vampire, so it wasn’t too difficult to get along without her...but emotionally? A different story.”

“You sound like you had a very close relationship with her.”

“Yes. Quite close…” Johnny’s tone suggests something deeper, more intimate than a regular friendship. You feel a bit astounded at the idea of him having an older, more worldly lover while being only a newly changed vampire. Your reaction makes you feel foolish, inexperienced. Still, you can’t help imagining a scenario of them living in a big, dark mansion somewhere in the mountains, rolling around in a bed with bloody red sheets—and maybe drinking from the occasional naïve, misled human hiker.

Strangely, too, you feel jealous at his freedom, his ability to go wherever and do whatever with whoever he wants without overbearing relatives always just a step away.

You continue staring at the ripples as they circle in and out of the water’s surface, the motions triggered by a small orange leaf falling into the lake. You’re unsure of what could be the right thing to say to his admission, so you blurt out whatever comes to mind next. “You said she taught you to live independently as a vampire. What does that mean? How do you get...you know. Blood?”

“There are ways,” Johnny says cryptically, which makes your own blood rush faster. He turns to you with a grin, like he finds your naivety endearing. “It’s nothing drastic, though. At least, not for me. I never drink directly.” It does make sense that there are other ways to drink human blood without taking it straight from their necks, though you can only speculate on which methods he prefers. “Drinking directly is lethal, and often not worth it.”

“So, it’s true that vampire bites can kill?” You watch as Johnny pushes himself off the railing, and you follow him as he continues down the trail.

“It’s not false. But it’s never really that simple.” Johnny’s answer is mysterious, and he doesn’t elaborate further. He turns to you. “Where did you hear that, anyway? Your university? The one that bans all nonhuman beings?”

“You know where I go to school?” You feel embarrassed, thinking he must assume you’re like the rest of the student body who hates nonhumans but still nurtures an odd obsession with them.

“I saw it on your notebook one day, the school insignia. I’m not a stalker, by the way.” You laugh only slightly, and Johnny seems crestfallen when he notices your apprehension. “I don’t care if you attend school there. Just because you do doesn’t mean you think the way they do.”

“You must think I’m some weird opportunist, then,” you mutter, heat finding its way to your face. “Asking you all these questions...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think anything except that you’re a pleasant person to be around.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the compliment sink in. You think you should probably give him one of his own, but before you can, he says, “Look. The sun’s already setting.” Just like he told you before, the dying rays filter through the tree leaves and create impossibly intricate patterns on your surroundings. You hold your hand out and watch the latticework that the leaves create dance over your open palm.

You let Johnny take a picture of your hand with the tree shadows flitting over it, but you shy away from the camera’s lens when he points it higher to your face, a questioning look in his eyes. “Maybe some other day.”

You walk around for a while longer until the sky bleeds into a dark purple. “I guess I should be going soon. It’s getting late,” you say, though you’re also a bit sad over your evening with Johnny meeting its end.

“Do you want me to take you back to campus? You shouldn’t walk back alone. My car is just in the parking lot there.” He points to it where it sits in the distance.

You look at Johnny with a confused gaze. “But you can’t come on campus. They have...things to ward off vampires.” Like gates made of pure silver, displaying intimidating, elaborately designed crosses. You don’t know if any of it actually works, but it’s probably better not to find out.

Johnny doesn’t seem bothered by this information. “Yeah…I know. I can just drop you at the street across from the main gate.”

You hesitate a moment longer but eventually agree. He is right; you’d rather not walk alone at night, and getting a ride with him is better—and cheaper—than calling for a rideshare.

The ride to the college is fairly quiet, with the radio filling the silence. It’s not an awkward type of stillness, at least, which you’re grateful for.

As he said he would, Johnny parks on the side of the street that sits in front of the main gate, just outside the immediate vicinity of the campus. The metal crosses stare back at the both of you, glinting in the light of nearby streetlamps. You turn your face away from them, biting the inside of your cheek.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks again for the ride. I guess I’ll see you back at the shop next week, yeah?” Again, you get the urge to say something, anything, to remedy or cover up the foreboding source of discomfort sitting just in front of you, but there’s no one sentence you could say to wipe away decades of hatred.

Johnny nods and smiles, and still he shows no signs of being disturbed. He doesn’t cast another glance at the gates. “It’s no problem. See you then.”

You get out of his car and cross the street to get inside the gate; it’s early enough in the evening for it to still be open. Any later, and it’d be locked shut to even humans. You risk another wave at him before turning back around and heading for your dorm, which sits a few yards from the entrance. Johnny lets the car idle on the side of the street until you’ve walked into the dorm, and only then does he drive away.

It doesn’t take very long for you to warm up to Johnny inviting you to other places. The next time you and him go somewhere other than the coffee shop, you accompany him as he buys some film for his camera on one of his free days. You don’t know a ton about photography, so you’re more than happy to let him tell you all about how film works and why he buys certain kinds over others.

The place he frequents is a specialty photography shop that still carries older varieties of film—ones that fell out of favor once digital cameras became a thing. The store looks noticeably old, but not in an unkempt or decrepit way. You can tell it’s been around for a while, holding all kinds of history in its structure.

“There are so many different types.” You look over a shelf of film rolls in awe. “How can you tell them all apart?”

Johnny laughs. “It gets easier if you’ve been doing it for a while…or a few decades.” He picks one up from a row of them and holds it in front of you. “35mm is the most common type, which is what you’ll find the most of when you look through any film shop. That’s what I use.”

He sets that one down and walks past another display of film rolls, gesturing toward them. “There’s also 120 and 220 film formats here…those work for even older cameras, sorta like ones you’d see in 1930s movies. You can even turn a film camera into a digital camera.”

You nod to his words, looking over what seems like millions of film canisters—and occasionally glancing at the lines of his broad back as he walks ahead of you. “You should teach a photography class. I’d be more willing to listen to you than some old professor.”

Johnny snickers. “Huh, I don’t know. Not a professor, but I am old.”

You both continue walking through the store, with Johnny giving you the rundown on every item that catches your interest.

Like the coffee shop, there’s another mirror in this store. Many more, actually—there are whole rows of them on a series of shelves, all in varying sizes and shapes. They create a fragmented view of your form as you stand in front of them, though you don’t initially realize you’ve crossed into their glassy line of sight. You’re busier with looking at a roll of film Johnny’s handed you. When you notice your reflection shifting in your peripheral view, you look up.

Johnny’s only a few feet behind you, and you know this because you can hear him and feel his presence. Yet, it’s strange to see yourself as the only person in the aisle.

Eventually, he notices what’s got you preoccupied and comes to stand next to you. Though you see him clearly in front of your eyes, there’s no trace of him in the glass reflections.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the aching loneliness of it—how it must feel to never see yourself. You can see him with your own eyes, and so can everyone else who encounters him, but what must it be like to be virtually invisible outside of other peoples’ perceptions of you? You almost feel utterly alone even though you know he’s beside you.

Noticing your sudden melancholy, Johnny takes the film roll from your hand and tosses it up in the air, making it look like it’s moving on its own in the mirrors. He means to lighten the mood, if only to see the cloudiness disappear from your expression. It works to a degree, though you still feel downcast deep below.

“It’s not good to dwell on it.” Johnny presses the film roll back into your hand, still carefully avoiding skin contact. He has no problem meeting your eyes, though, and you shyly look away from his dark gaze after a few prolonged moments.

“You’re right,” you say softly, turning back to the aisle and away from the rows of mirrors.

—

You and Johnny head to the coffee shop after your trip to the photography store. Once you get your drinks and sit down in your usual spot, he speaks suddenly. “Something’s wrong.”

Your eyes dart around the shop, thinking he’s referring to one of the patrons around you. “What? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out a bit panicked. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he does.

“No, I mean...something’s wrong with you. You seem far away.”

“Oh…” You wonder if you should even bring it up and potentially ruin the mood. But you have been curious for weeks now, and you don’t think you’ll get a trustworthy answer by asking anyone other than him. “I just...I was wondering why you don’t have a reflection. I know it’s a vampire thing, but I’ve never really known why...you don’t need to answer, though. Like you said, it’s not good to dwell on it.”

Johnny makes a motion like a half-nod once your question is revealed, his eyes darting to the window and back to the table. His fingers trace across the rim of his coffee cup, a thoughtful but stormy expression on his face, and you’re afraid you shouldn’t have reawakened this topic. “You know...being undead means being in two places at once.”

“Two places?”

“We are caught between the living world and the world of the dead. Something that’s not really supposed to exist, yet…” He’s quiet for a moment. “You can only imagine the kind of issues and side effects that can cause. One of them being no reflection.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you say. “Two planes of existence...what does it mean to be a part of the world of the dead?”

“Our blood runs slower. Ours is more like sludge compared to yours. The heart beats only a few times per minute. Don’t need to eat or sleep, either, though many vampires still do.” Johnny pauses. “How much do you really know about vampires?”

“I don’t know much about any of this...stuff.” You gesture vaguely, meaning all supernatural beings and not just vampires. “No one ever told me these things growing up, and it’s hard to tell truth from fiction at school. People will say anything, horrible things, and you just take it at face value, I guess. I never really thought to try to find the reality.” You sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world who doesn’t know anything.”

“Learning is good. You can always learn. I don’t think it’s too late for that.” Johnny’s voice is a little lighter. “Anyway, everyone’s knowledge is different. Sometimes it slips my mind that everyone doesn’t know what it’s like to live as a vampire, though the world never lets me forget for long.”

“Then…do you hang out with other vampires who do understand? Or…maybe humans who can sympathize?”

Johnny gives a humorless laugh. “Most humans are hesitant to interact with us, if not full-out terrified or disgusted. At the museum...it’s less pronounced because all the employees already know. They…tolerate it. But every time someone else realizes what I am and doesn’t take well to it?” He shakes his head, acts like he’ll say something else, and then abandons that line of thought. “And do you really think I’d want to spend my free time around other bloodsuckers?” He tries to play it off as a joke, but you’re more inclined to think he actually feels that way. You can only nod, feeling bad for him but also a little disturbed by his view of his own kind.

“I think you’re a kind person, and you being a vampire doesn’t affect that,” you say hesitantly. “I like talking to you. And even if you feel that way about other vampires, I…wish you wouldn’t feel that about yourself.”

Johnny remains quiet, but he nods. You wonder about the struggle occurring in his mind. The only outward hint of his uneasy state shows in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tense set of his mouth. With his right hand resting on the table, he rubs his fingers together absentmindedly, like he’s analyzing your words. You have a sudden and startling desire to hold his hand, to twine your fingers together and feel his skin on yours for the first time, but you don’t dare cross that boundary.

He finally replies with, “You’re much kinder to me, an old and bitter vampire, than you probably should be. But maybe that’s a good thing about you.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” you agree, your voice low. “Every living being needs companionship. Good companionship, anyway.”

The corners of Johnny’s lips shift in something reminiscent of a smile. He turns a rueful gaze once again to the window, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Aren’t I lucky to have yours, then.”

On a day when you don’t have as many responsibilities to juggle, you visit Johnny at the art museum after his working hours are up. He’d already invited you to come to the museum any day you felt like so he could show you around. 

When you get there, he’s waiting in the visitor’s lobby for you, framed by receding sunlight as the day starts fading into night. He looks the same as he always does when you see him in the café on his lunch breaks, but within the context of the museum, he suddenly seems more…alive? Vibrant? He could’ve served as a muse for one of the many statuesque, perfectly proportional sculptures in the museum, and you’d never know anything different.

Your heartbeat increases at the sight of him, just enough to be outside the normal range.

“Hi, Johnny. I hope your day went well?”

“It was fine, nothing too crazy. But it’s better now.” And he smiles at you, sincere enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh—that’s great.” That’s it? You scold yourself internally, but you aren’t quick enough to think up a witty reply to his comment before the topic shifts.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see first?” Johnny asks, leading you further into the museum.

“I guess I hadn’t thought too deeply about that…do you have a favorite exhibit? I want to see what you like.”

Johnny smiles faintly. “Let’s see, then.”

The dark-haired man takes you to a section of the museum filled with oil paintings, all by one singular artist. At first, all you see is varying shades of black and gray and red, with some white splashed in between. When you begin looking at the paintings more closely, it’s easier to see that each one depicts a different scene of chaos. Maybe a sort of organized chaos, but disarray all the same.

There is one picture that holds a clearer subject than the rest. One of the oil paintings is of a vampire—obvious by the fangs—with bloodied lips and anguished eyes. You pause when you catch sight of it, your steps stilled by the sheer frenzy in the other being’s painted eyes. Their hands reach out for the viewer as if begging for an escape that can only be provided by whoever’s observing.

“This one was painted by a fellow vampire, you know. The same one who did all the rest of the paintings in this gallery,” Johnny explains. He points at the placard next to the painting that displays the artist’s name and a short description of the piece. The word fellow comes off his tongue wrapped in cynicism. “And it was one of the ones I personally chose for this exhibit.”

You glance at him, a tinge of surprise blooming in your chest. “Really?”

He nods. “Who better to depict the ills of vampirism than a vampire themselves? I thought it was a…fascinating change of pace from all the humans who try and fail to do so, ironic as that is.”

If you look at the painting for long enough, you think you can recognize sadness in the corners of the vampire’s eyes—pure, unadulterated sadness. Different from anguish or panic. A similar mask of sadness you’ve seen on the man next to you.

You say nothing for a while. You simply feel the painful throb of your heart in your chest and listen to the small sounds around you. Even now, there are still other people exploring the museum and walking through this very exhibit, but you can’t hear or see any of them. Johnny notices the disconcerted look on your face, and his forehead creases. “But I’m sure you want to see something less…morbid than this, right? Come on.”

“Uh, I-I don’t mind,” you insist, even though you feel like you’ve just awoken from a painful trance by the sound of his voice. But he’s already gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

The next set of paintings you end up in front of are a series of sunflower studies. One frame depicts the long green stems; another provides an up-close view of their lined petals. One zooms in close on the flower’s brown center, only small glimpses of yellow left at the edges of the frame.

“This is definitely very different.” You look at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. “But it fits you. I see why you like it.” You remember him back in the park, taking careful pictures of the aster bush and of your hands…and then offering to take one of you. You don’t know why that last one makes your stomach jump.

“I thought you might like it.” Johnny’s eyes linger on your face as he observes your reaction to the paintings. He’s seen these flowers probably a hundred times by now in this permanent exhibit, but the wonder in your expression is new to him.

—

You both walk through a few more exhibitions after that, all with different subjects and mediums—some consist of sculptures, others are clay vases and figures. There’s still a lot to see in the museum, but you’re starting to get hungry, and you know Johnny has already heard your stomach growling.

After the 2nd time it happens and you think you might melt from embarrassment, he grins at you and makes a suggestion. “Let’s go to my office. I’ll get my things and we can eat. The restaurant here is pretty good—or at least that’s what everyone else says…”

When you get to his office, you feel almost like you’ve stepped into a room from years past. Your gaze drifts across his desk immediately; it’s not sleek and modern like you’d expect, considering the rest of the museum’s aesthetic, but wooden and heavy and vintage-looking. It’s olden quality resembles everything else in his personal space. Even his desk chair, a big and plush thing, feels vintage with its soft leather and rustic design.

This feeling is far from a bad thing, though. You enjoy the aged look of the bookcases, the picture frames, the chairs, the small decorations here and there—everything about this room.

Johnny notices how you look around, studying everything in sight, and smiles. “It’s not the most modern, but I like it.”

“It’s perfect. Like a world of its own.”

“A woman of taste, I see.” Johnny puts a hand over his heart, giving an expression like he’s truly touched, and you can only grin sheepishly. When he has his belongings, he leads you out and locks the door behind him.

“Let’s see what they have on the menu today, then.��

—

You get dinner at the museum’s restaurant, just as Johnny recommended, and he even decides to eat too. Maybe he does it so you won’t look odd being the only one eating, or because he really just wants to; he doesn’t let on. Either way, sitting across from him like this in a fancy restaurant with both of you having a nice meal feels almost like a date. You let that thought amble around for a few minutes longer before tucking it back into one of your mind’s many small niches.

“I’ll probably be digesting this for the next few weeks,” he says jokingly, pulling a mock-disappointed face at his plate.

“That sounds like the worst constipation in history.” He snorts at your comment, his eyes creasing as he laughs. You notice he has a dimple when he smiles, and your grin mirrors his. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh quite so genuinely before, but now that you’ve experienced it, you want to hear it again and again.

Anything is preferable to the perpetual gloom, always slinking around the corner.

—

When Johnny gets back home after dropping you off at the university, he undresses himself and showers and pulls on his bedclothes, which are nothing more than his underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His upper canines ache in his gums the entire time he goes through these motions, like two pulses of red-hot heat positioned on either side of his mouth.

He takes a blood bag from the fridge and drinks it in bed, leaning his arms against his knees. A sudden remembrance manifests itself in his mind; he hears the hazy echo of his mother’s decades-past voice in his head, reprimanding him for eating in bed. A sharp pain grips his chest, and he tries to send it back to the depths where it belongs.

When the blood hits his stomach, the pain is eclipsed by the bloodlust, which is no better. His fangs drop immediately, spiking into his lower lip. Johnny closes his eyes and, very gingerly, allows himself to draw a picture of you in his mind, of your blood in his mouth and your heartbeat roaring in his ears. The way your blood would flow out so delicately, crashing into his tastebuds like the high tide. He is usually better than this at curtailing his bloodlust, not even letting it reach the point of his canines hurting—he can’t remember the last time that’s happened—but being around you sets him on edge. Awakens him in some strange, raw way.

That only makes him more wary. And more guilty about imagining himself drinking your blood. He shouldn’t even be around you if he’s losing his grip on his hard-won control. But although it makes him feel ashamed, it also causes his heart to rush.

He drains the blood bag to the last possible drop. To his relief, it calms him significantly, though the thoughts of you don’t leave. More innocent ones now, of your outing earlier in the evening. Deep beneath, they are tinged with his ever-present guilt at his vampiric nature.

Johnny doesn’t need the sleep, but he drifts off anyway, if only to quiet the conflict sending daggers into his mind.

You’ve known Johnny for a few weeks now, not counting the time you spent silently staring at him in the café, but you find yourself intertwining yourself further into his life. You end up visiting his apartment sooner than you anticipated. You didn’t think of anything as ridiculous as him living in a coffin or sleeping in the rafters like a bat, but you also had a hard time imagining what his place might look like.

You come over on a weekend when you have more time to simply hang out and not worry so much about anything else.

Like usual, he waits in that spot on the side of the street for you to come out. In the daytime, you’re more apprehensive about him being here and someone potentially seeing him and trying to cause trouble for him, but there’s a part of you that likes the rebellious aspect of it. And if he truly doesn’t mind coming near the campus to pick you up, you don’t have much issue with him doing it.

Johnny’s apartment is clean—and a little sparser than you’d expected. Maybe he’s a fan of minimalism. One side of the wall is taken up by a wide bookcase, which features a bunch of different knickknacks, books, and a collection of larger hardcovers that look like photo albums. On the other walls are a few framed pictures of different scenes, and you assume they’re ones he must’ve taken.

“This is a nice place,” you say as he takes your jacket for you and puts it up. “It must cost quite a bit, too…” You sit down on the couch, stroking the soft material of it.

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle...being nearly a century old gives you plenty of time to save money.” He appears charmingly self-satisfied when he’s able to make you laugh. “Do you want anything?”

“Water is fine…thank you.” Johnny nods and goes off to the kitchen.

Despite trying to keep your eyes on the wall photos, your gaze follows him as he leaves. You discreetly watch him move around his kitchen. With his dark clothes, he’s like a splash of black paint against the pale tile and stainless steel.

There are blood packs in Johnny’s fridge. Lots of them. You know because you saw them from your vantage point on the couch when he opened the fridge door. They look like the blood bags you’d see in a hospital, which makes you wonder how he even gets access to those. Another mystery you struggle to wrap your head around.

He comes back to the living room with your water, and you take it gratefully, though you also feel a little awkward. You think maybe the blood bags are something you shouldn’t have seen, although you know he probably would’ve made more effort to hide them or put them away if that were the case.

“You have a good supply of blood, a nice apartment, and a great job. Does every vampire get these kinds of perks?” Admittedly, it sounded better in your head. Your attempt to stave off the awkward feeling—which was really only coming from your end—only makes it more intense. Johnny laughs dryly in response. You can’t tell if he actually finds it amusing or is just trying to humor you, which makes you feel incredibly silly.

“All of it’s government-issued if you promise never to bite any humans.” Johnny gives a wry smile. “But it’s a mistake to think vampires live glamorous lives, filling up on blood and having no cares in the world.”

“N-no, I get it,” you stutter. “Bad joke.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you or be mean. It’s just the way things are.” Your roles are suddenly reversed, and now he seems to feel some sort of sympathy for you, like you’re just an ignorant little human who doesn’t know any better. The last part of that is more your insecurities speaking out than anything else, but you try to ignore that and take him for his word.

Johnny gets up from the couch to go over to the bookcase as you sip your water. After looking through the photo albums intently, he takes one off the shelf and hands it to you. You set your water down and hold the album carefully as you open the front cover. The cover itself has a neat little label that reads Telluride 1976 - 1980, so you can already expect what you’ll find in it. There are numerous photos of trees, bushes, snowy mountain ranges, lakes, brilliantly vibrant flowers, and woodland creatures. You stop at a picture of a deer looking straight ahead, its black eyes wide and curious as it examines the lens.

“I lived in the mountains back then, a little after my mentor had left. I spent some time trying to reconnect with nature...and all that other hippie shit people used to do back in that era.”

You chuckle. “Did you wear the same kinds of clothes, too? Bell bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts and all?”

Johnny laughs and shrugs. “Maybe…but that’s only for me to know.”

You grin and look at the photos again. “Well…did your plan work, at least?”

Johnny gives a wistful smile. “In some ways, I think it did.”

You continue looking through the rest of the album, which you could probably do for hours if you had the time—just sit and trace every possible line, curve, and ray of light. Johnny sits beside you as you do, occasionally explaining some pictures and their backstories.

“Lately, I’ve been wanting something else to take pictures of...someone else, maybe.”

“What, like a subject?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’d be nice...I haven’t taken pictures of another person in a while.”

You nod quietly as you flip through the pages—another possible hint flying right over your head. Then a thought comes to you—one that makes your skin warm. “Have you ever taken pictures of anyone you were...involved with?” You don’t say it directly, but you hope he can get the gist of what you’re asking.

Johnny nods as if he doesn’t want to admit to it, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “A few different people…but I always gave them the pictures after we, you know, stopped seeing each other...so there’s none left here.”

“I see…” For a few moments, your thoughts circle around that concept. What was it like to bare yourself in front of someone else like that, immortalized on film? What might it be like to allow Johnny to see you like that, to take pictures of you in your most vulnerable form? The idea doesn’t make you as downright anxious as you expected it to, though you can’t completely shake the lingering embarrassment about it.

After you finish looking through the entirety of his Telluride adventures, Johnny shows you some recent pictures he’s developed, and you’re giddy to see your own blurry creations among them. Now that you’re holding them physically in your hands, you can agree that they look nice, each with its own little personality.

“I thought about putting them in a new photo album,” he says, “but you can keep them, if you prefer.”

You hold them to your chest. “Yes, I’d like to keep them. Thank you.” You smile. “I’m sure I’ll leave you with plenty other photos to put in your album, anyway.”

—

The sun is close to setting again. You aren’t ready to leave yet, though, and Johnny is content to let you stay longer. He pulls out another album for you to look at, this one dated with 1960 - 1964. Unlike the others, there’s no title to describe what’s in it except for that year range.

“This is a picture of me someone took before I was turned,” Johnny murmurs, sitting back down beside you. He turns the album to you, and in the middle of the first page is a sepia-toned photo of him sitting on a bed—or maybe a couch?—wearing a suit. White, handwritten lettering on the bottom right of the photograph reads August 4, 1960.

“Oh wow...” You touch the photo gently over its protective lining. “You look exactly the same. Of course.”

“It’s the only photo I have left of myself,” he sighs, leaning back on the sofa. “If it weren’t for that...I’d feel almost like I didn’t exist at all.”

“Do you remember this day?” you ask.

“…Vaguely.” His answer doesn’t feel like the whole truth, and the way his eyes dart anxiously as he says it confirms your suspicions. Then he sighs again, heavier this time, and he seems to be exhaling all 60 years of his burden along with it. “I was...going to be married. It was for our wedding shoot.”

You’re surprised for a reason you’re unsure of, never even imagining that Johnny could’ve been married at one point in time. Could’ve had an entire life and a family, if it hadn’t been for...

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You know you never would’ve met him if things hadn’t happened this way, and that knowledge tugs at your heart in a way that makes you feel intensely selfish.

Johnny shakes his head and avoids your eyes. “It was long ago.” He wets his lips and his jaw clenches like maybe he wants to say something else, but he remains silent for a while.

You continue exploring the photo album in silence. With its thin size, there aren’t as many pictures in it as the others—much less, in fact, but each one is still enough to keep your interest. Your mind keeps drifting back to the one of Johnny.

You hand the album back to him when you’re done. He takes it from you, but in a gesture you don’t foresee, he allows your hands to touch for the first time. You make a tiny flinch at the unexpected coolness—not ice-cold, but enough to be noticeable—but you don’t draw away from him. You let his fingers slide across yours as the photo album leaves your hands, and it sends electricity racing up and down your spine.

“S-sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for flinching or for making contact at all, though there is no reason to because he initiated it.

“Doesn’t it ever disturb you at all that I’m not human?” Johnny asks softly, still holding the album.

“What?”

“You’ve taken all this so easily...much more easily than many others. You aren’t even disgusted at my cold hands.” A ghost of a grin comes over his face.

“If I were disgusted, I wouldn’t even be here,” you say, trying to lighten the tension. It’s not the kind of tension that arises from anger, offense, or upset, but something else that you are lost on comprehending in this moment. “Some of it’s unfamiliar, obviously, but I’m not disgusted.”

He glances down at the album in his hands, as if contemplating something. Maybe thinking about the only living photo of himself beneath the cover. Or maybe he’s thinking back to how he was turned in the first place and subsequently lost the life he was about to have. He still hasn’t told you anything about how he became a vampire, and though you’d like to know, it’s obviously a sore spot for him.

Eventually, he nods, willing himself to smile at you. “I’m glad.”

—

Night has fallen by the time you’re done exploring the decades of his life, though there is still much you haven’t seen and don’t yet know. You let him drive you back to the school as you stare out at the passing cars, wondering how many more of these people sitting in their vehicles are nonhuman and you’d never know it.

You hesitate after he pulls up across from the main gate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Uh, nothing really, it’s just—I still don’t have your number or anything.” And I want to talk to you more often. I want to hear your voice more often. You don’t want to say anything overly dramatic or cheesy, so you just keep those last thoughts to yourself.

Thinking it had been something serious, he smirks at your concern. “Oh, I see. I’ll give it to you now, then.”

Once your numbers are safely in each other’s phones, you finally bid each other goodnight. 

Though you try to steer your thoughts towards other things, you keep veering back to Johnny. His apartment. His fridge full of blood bags. His photo albums full of years of history. Even when you get into bed that night, you can’t keep him off your mind.

You wake up gasping and sweating when you dream of him with his fangs in your neck, your own blood running down your neck and chest. You glance over at your roommate to make sure you haven’t woken her and rest your head on your knees, trying to catch your breath and settle your racing heart. Your skin still prickles with how you could practically feel his heated breaths on your neck, ice-cold hands gripping your shoulders.

The worst part of it is that you can’t quite say you completely disliked it.

“It doesn’t make much sense to have a Halloween party and dress up as the very beings that you hate, but whatever…” you mumble, looking through a rack of costumes with a certain impassivity. You’re not very enthusiastic about going to this Halloween party, but your friend refuses to go alone. You haven’t been spending as much time with her anymore—partly because of Johnny and partly because you feel even more out of place around her than normal—and with all her begging and pleading, she refuses to let you opt out of this one.

“It’s about having fun, no one really cares Y/N. They’re freaks, aren’t they? That’s why people dress up as them, they’re practically meant for this.”

You become even more apprehensive about the party after hearing that, if that’s even possible. You smooth your hand over the fabric of a witch’s robe and sigh again, shaking your head. It doesn’t feel quite right to keep spending time in her presence—or anyone else who goes to your school—but you feel trapped on all sides, left without much of a choice. You would never hear the end of it if you tried to switch universities…or even drop out.

Your mind strays back to Johnny as always, with his melancholy aura and weird jokes and pretty pictures and monochrome clothes. The smell of his cologne, the lingering scent of roasted coffee beans, and his toothy smile, when he does show it to you. Something in you makes you want to drop everything you’re doing right now and go to him. It might even be nice to settle in his arms, feel them strong and solid around you—though he’d probably need just as much comforting as you.

“Dress up as this!” Your friend breaks the reverie as she prances over to you with a pair of fake fangs, the tips of them painted in acrylic blood. She holds them up to your mouth, and you struggle to manage a smile, if only to sate her enthusiasm. “It actually reminds me of…that vampire at the café. Say, have you seen him since then?”

You shake your head, moving away to sift through another rack of outfits as you try to maintain a detached expression. “Nope, not a glimpse. Haven’t even thought about him.”

When your friend doesn’t suspect anything, you let your expression drop just a tad, breathing out quietly.

The night of the party, the full moon is heavy and bold against the black blanket of the sky, which feels horribly cliché. You wonder if there are any werewolves out tonight, and what they might be doing right now.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight,” your friend insists as you both walk up the front steps of the host’s house. It’s someone you only vaguely know, a friend of a friend of a friend, but clearly a person who has an abundance of money judging by this expansive home. You don’t know why she feels the need to convince you, but maybe it’s because you haven’t seemed very enthusiastic so far. You only give a thumbs up to her words, which feels like an unconvincing gesture. Luckily for you, it works.

After a few hours, the party is still going strong but your head is starting to hurt from the music, and you’re growing weary of all the men crowding in too close, looking at you in your angel costume like you’re something to be devoured. You’ve rolled your eyes at way too many of them and their haphazardly put-together costumes, dressed up as vampires with terrible fake fangs or werewolves with manes of matted up fur.

Your friend keeps flitting around the party, talking to whoever she recognizes from classes or campus organizations, and you’ve given up on trying to follow her around any longer. Every time you turn around, she’s somewhere else. Noticing that you’re currently solo, a guy from one of your history classes comes up to you and begins what he thinks is an interesting conversation on how angels actually look more like Eldritch abominations than the cherubic humans depicted in paintings—so your costume is “technically inaccurate” —and your eyes glaze over as you pretend to listen to him.

You eventually manage to get away from him and get to an undisturbed corner, wedged next to two girls drinking cider and critically rating all the guys’ costumes. You pull your phone out and think about calling for a ride back to campus, but your thumb hovers over the message icon. You press it without thinking too much about it, and Johnny’s name appears as one of your most recent conversations. Though you feel somewhat nervous, you will yourself to open the box and begin typing.

To: Hi Johnny. I hope I’m not bothering you, but can I come over? 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿 I’m over this party

You put your phone back in your purse, trying not to get your hopes up for a quick response. You know there’s a good chance he’d still be awake at this time of night since he doesn’t need to sleep, but he has his own life and is probably off doing...vampire-y things. Whatever those things could be.

However, your hopes are met when your phone pings only a couple minutes later.

From: Of course. You’re not scared about spending your Halloween with a vampire? 😏

You smile at that.

To: I think I’ll be fine…as long as you don’t bite me.

From: 🦷🩸

—

You get to Johnny’s studio apartment not too long after, and you hang around outside his door for a few moments before knocking, suddenly feeling bashful about your costume. Maybe you should’ve changed before coming over here; what if he thinks it’s childish? Or maybe too revealing? Does he even care about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t matter now, though. You’re here, and there’s no way you’re turning back around.

He answers a few seconds after you knock, wearing a sweater and black pants. You notice his sweater is a cream color and not the usual black. He looks a little surprised to see your costume, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Wow, you look pretty. Nice of you to visit me after falling straight from Heaven.” You cringe at his cheesy line, though you also cannot deny that you secretly enjoy every bit of it.

“Thanks, Johnny...” you say timidly, stepping into his home as he lets you in. “Nice work with changing up the color scheme.”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing you’re talking about his clothes. “Oh yeah, that...um, haha. Thanks.”

Unbeknownst to you, the back of his mind is buzzing with a form of excitement he hasn’t felt in a while. Not the clawing, frantic spikes of bloodlust, but a more physical kind of desire. It’s pleasurable, but he also feels guilty about pining over how sweet and innocent you look in your all-white outfit, stockings hugging your legs perfectly and your dress just short enough to tempt the imagination. Really, you’ve painted a picture of perfect purity, and the only thing he can think about is ruining you. Putting his hands on you and peeling your dress off to reveal the soft skin underneath.

He casts those thoughts aside as you sit prettily on his couch, legs crossed at the ankles—though it’s hard to do so. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? There isn’t a whole lot of food here, but I can order something…”

“Do you ever make your own coffee?” The question seems a bit random at first, and you try to explain. “You know, since you always get it from the café.”

Johnny smiles. “Do you want coffee? I can make it.”

You nod. “That would be nice…whatever you have.”

“I pretty much have your usual order memorized by now, so I should be good on making it.” Johnny walks to the kitchen. “You can look through the albums while you’re in there. The ones you haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh, thanks.” You feel a little nervous to be looking through the shelf of his treasured photo albums by yourself, but you’re also glad he trusts you enough to let you do it. It makes you feel important. Maybe even important to him, as silly as that might sound.

It isn’t long before the scent of coffee wafts out into the living room. Johnny returns soon with two cups of it, and just as he promised, yours is made just the way you like it.

“Thank you.” You set the album back on the shelf and take the cup from Johnny. For a while, both of you talk of nothing important—just filling the space with the details of your days.

“So how was the party?” Johnny finally asks, and he raises his eyebrows as he scans your outfit again. You grin halfheartedly.

“It was…alright. Kinda weird. I think it’d be more fun if I went to a regular university, but you know…”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for bailing out.”

“Yeah…I’ve been to college parties before, but the Halloween theme was a bit…”

“Strange for an institution that bans all supernatural beings?” Johnny finishes your sentence. He doesn’t look offended or irritated by it—only slightly amused.

You shrug, biting your lip. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, look on the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten to see you in your natural form otherwise.”

This one almost goes over your head, too, but you catch it just in time. Johnny’s compliments make you feel warm all over, like you’re sitting under the sun. You grin and look down into your cup of coffee, unused to receiving such bold praise and unsure how to respond to it. Something pops into your mind, though, and you think it might be a good idea to run with it.

“You could...take a picture of me, you know. If you want to...since I’m all dressed up now anyway.” You meet his eyes only for a second and then look away, twisting the mug in your hands.

Johnny sits up a little straighter at your words, trying to catch your eyes, though you don’t hold his gaze for long. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. Go ahead! Before I change my mind.” You laugh nervously and carefully set your half-empty mug on the table.

Johnny’s camera is never too far away from him, so he grabs it and plays with the settings for a bit before looking back to you, a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna start, okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft. This, yet again, reminds you of him and the aster bush. He acts as if you might run away at the first shutter click, which makes you feel babied, but you don’t totally hate it.

The first few photos are a little awkward—at least to you. You aren’t sure how to pose, or if you should try to look more casual, though Johnny assures you you’re doing well. He gives you directives throughout, telling you to look in his direction or angle your face a certain way, and you follow his instructions to the best of your ability.

At one point, one of your dress straps slips down. When you go to fix it, Johnny says, “Wait. Could you keep it like that?”

You look at him, your body heating from the suggestion.

“Is that okay with you?”

“…Yes.” Your throat is dry, and your body reacts in a way you don’t expect—little nervous thrills in your hands and feet, though you try to internally explain it away as the coffee’s effects. Johnny takes a few more photos like this, and then he steps closer to gently touch your chin, guiding your face to the angle he’s looking for.

“So good for me.” It slips past his lips in a reverential murmur before he can really consider what he’s saying, and you both freeze. Your heart rate increases, and you wonder if he can hear how hard the red organ is beating in your chest. Probably.

You want to hear him say it again.

Johnny laughs awkwardly, his hand coming back to his side almost a little too quickly to be natural. “Um, I’m really sorry. That was a bit...”

“It…it’s fine.” You avoid his eyes. Johnny takes a few more photos, but the set of his mouth is a little tight, as if he’s stressed about something. Or regretting what he let slip, maybe. You want to tell him you really don’t feel bad about it, but you aren’t sure how to do that without making things more awkward…or revealing your true desires.

When Johnny has taken enough pictures of you to be satisfied with, he sits next to you on the couch, setting his camera on the coffee table and looking suddenly timid.

“I can’t wait to see them,” you say, attempting to break the tension that never really cleared the room after his earlier comment. He blinks for a moment like he doesn’t know what you mean, and then realizes—obviously, he’ll be developing the photos.

“They’ll come out nice, I’m sure. I think you’ll photograph well.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and now it’s your turn to be unsure of how to resurrect the conversation.

“You’re beautiful.” It’s an abrupt comment. It makes your stomach twist in a pleasant, fluttery way, and you become hyperaware of his form sitting next to yours.

“Haven’t heard that one much, but thanks.”

Johnny turns to you. “Anyone who’d think otherwise is a fool.”

There’s a pause after this where you both simply study each other, watching for hidden reactions that can’t be read on the surface. The way he says it is…decisive, assured. But it also manages to be tender, as if he needs you to know what he thinks of you. Needs you to see yourself the way he does—the same way you do for him. You don’t know where the confidence comes from, but maybe his tone and his words and his endlessly dark eyes have pulled it out of you. “I want to kiss you.”

Johnny’s lips part. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Johnny moves closer to you and cups the back of your neck. Something awakens in his eyes in the seconds before he presses his mouth to yours. Though he wants to drink eagerly from your lips, his kiss is languid to avoid overwhelming you, and there is an audible smack of your lips whenever he pulls away and presses back in.

His mouth tastes like the coffee you just drank, but underneath that you swear you can taste a hint of the deep iron of blood, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You think about what his fangs would feel like scraping against your bottom lip, if he’d ever show them to you, and you moan quietly.

“Do you want this? With me?” Johnny confirms once more, pulling his gaze away from your lips and up to your eyes. His own eyes are yearning, but there is also an element of something like fear roiling in them. As if you’d turn him away, even though you’ve already shown your desire for him.

“Yes. Just you. No one else.”

Johnny’s body gravitates towards yours, and you think he’s going to push you down onto the sofa, but he scoops your legs up and carries you to his bedroom instead. Even his hands on your waist and legs makes you burn inside.

This is the first time you've seen his bedroom. The sheets are cloud-soft when he sets you down on them, and his window lets moonlight shine through the open blinds and scatter in thick beams across the floor. The only other light source is the bedside lamp, which emits a comfortable yellowish glow.

Johnny joins you on the bed and lets you climb into his lap—encourages you to do so. His cool hands pulling at your thighs as you settle them on either side of his waist makes tingles go through your body. You don’t hesitate to bring your lips back together, kissing each other deeply as one of his hands cradles the back of your head and the other settles on the small of your back.

You are certain vampires don’t have any powers of enchantment—that’s for magic wielders. And yet, you feel like you’ve been put in a trance by his kisses alone, and you wonder how you could’ve lived this long without knowing how his lips feel—how they fit perfectly against your own. As if everything up to now has purposely led you together.

You shift in Johnny’s embrace, and the movement causes his thigh to slide between your legs. Your heat is pressed against his thigh directly now, your silken panties catching against the denim of his pants. You murmur against his lips, not really saying anything of substance but wanting to vocalize your desire to him. Johnny’s hand tightens slightly on your back, and he experimentally lifts his leg higher and slides his thigh across you. That draws a gasp from you.

Noticing your positive response, Johnny continues rocking his thigh up against your pussy and kissing you until you’re breathless and your nipples are straining against the fabric of your dress. You pull away from him for a moment to try to ground yourself, feeling like your nerves are already being singed with fiery pleasure. Johnny’s face is noticeably more flushed than before, but he also looks much more composed than you feel at the moment.

“It takes longer to get hard,” he explains, as if reading the lingering question in your own expression. “Since...you know. Slow blood.” You rock your hips over his thigh more enthusiastically, motivated to get him hard underneath you, and you listen to his choppy breaths as you move. Your movements aren’t the smoothest, but he helps you guide your hips in a way that feels good for you both. You’ve never been with anyone before, so it doesn’t much matter to you how long or quick it takes for him to get there as long as he does.

Feeling the bulge grow underneath you excites you. Johnny groans against your lips as you kiss him and rub yourself over his member. The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, as if it’s something he’s been containing for a long time. Your hand goes to his waist and tugs at his belt loops, then drifts closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and metal apart. Johnny pauses when you get off his lap and slide further down, grips your arms like he doesn’t want you to go. “Are…you sure? You don’t have to…if it’s too much—”

“I want to, Johnny.”

With your affirmative, he lets you kneel between his legs, pull his zipper apart, and trace your curious fingers over the bulge beneath the fabric of his underwear. Johnny loses his breath when you drag his underwear down, sliding it over the heated skin of his dick. His length is thick and long—even with him not being fully hard yet—and the tip glistens wet with precum. You weren’t sure what to expect, but this is much bigger than you think you might be able to handle. It makes your face warm and your stomach do another series of flips. Still, you want it and you want him, so you aren’t going to stop now.

You lean closer to press your lips against his shaft, leaving a few soft kisses behind. Johnny’s mouth parts when your mouth touches him.

Johnny gently holds the back of your head as you leave small licks over his shaft, tasting the salty skin on your tongue. He lets out a shaky breath as he watches you, his other hand brushing the side of your face.

“Just like that…” he murmurs, his voice heavy with lust as you circle your tongue around the thick, darkened tip, catching drops of his precum. He never takes his eyes off you, and this makes you feel a little exposed, but you continue with your actions. When you suck Johnny’s tip past your lips, his thighs tense under you, the thick muscle reacting beautifully to your actions on his body.

More precum drips from him, and you find the taste strangely pleasing. It makes you want more of him, of whatever he has to offer you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, though it doesn’t fit entirely around, and begin stroking him in a way you hope feels good.

Johnny’s hand slips over yours to guide your movements and show you how much pressure to apply, what pace to stroke him at. “Like this, baby…yes, that’s so good…” He showers you with praise as you get the hang of it, and he eventually lets your hand go so you can do it on your own, his own hand drifting back to the bed to grip the comforter.

It’s hard to quantify just how much seeing you like this turns him on, you kneeling between his legs with his cock between your lips while wearing your pretty, angelic outfit. His previous guilt about “corrupting” you descends to the very back of his mind as he savors every moment of your hands on his cock and your tongue circling his slit.

“I’m close,” he whispers. You quicken your movements on him, hollowing your cheeks tighter around his dick, and the moan he gives shoots straight between your legs.

Johnny carefully pulls your head back so you won’t choke before he comes, streams of his seed shooting into your mouth and running down his cock. Your hand still squeezes around him as he comes, and he slowly thrusts into the tight circle of your fist as you milk every drop from him. By the time he’s spent, your mouth and hand and part of the sheets are completely sticky with his release. You imagine it must have been a long time since he’s last had an orgasm.

The vampire watches intently as you swallow his cum, which causes his softening dick to throb in your hand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, uncaring of the taste of himself in your mouth. His hair tickles your face as he kisses you feverishly, his nose bumping yours and his tongue prodding past your lips.

“Come here, angel.” Johnny pulls your body up onto the bed before you can get yourself up there first. The pet name makes warmth flood through your body, like drinking a hot chocolate at the café, except a thousand times more satisfying. Johnny’s hands are once again caressing your thighs, though this time they slide up underneath your dress and squeeze your hips. “Can I take these pretty panties off you?”

“Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the sides of them and pulls them down your legs and past your ankles. One of his hands goes underneath your dress to feel you soft and wet against his fingers, and you both moan at the same time. He slides his digits through your lips and over your clit, and him leaning forward to bring his mouth to your throat is enough to have you nearly overwhelmed. His fingers tease your entrance but don’t push inside until you nearly have to beg him.

“Please, Johnny…” You push your hips up to get his attention.

“Do you want my fingers?” he asks softly.

“Y-yes…” At your words, he eases the middle one into you, slowly enough to avoid discomfort. It feels strange to have someone else’s fingers inside you. His finger reaches further than yours can, touching you more deeply than you’ve felt before; it makes you gasp a bit too sharply.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, freezing and thinking he might’ve done something wrong.

“N-no, I’m fine. Keep going.”

Johnny’s mouth edges closer to the cleavage of your dress as he starts thrusting his finger into you, warming you up enough to take a second digit. Shakily, you bring your hands up to slide the straps down and make it easier for him, and his breath hitches when you pull the top of your dress down.

His mouth envelopes one of your nipples as he slides the second finger into you. His fingers encounter a part of you that makes you moan unexpectedly and grab onto him, a little surprised at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he purrs, his lips moving against the curve of your breast as he speaks. “And so responsive.”

As Johnny’s mouth and fingers work you closer to an orgasm, you marvel at how handsome he looks and how good he feels. He opens his eyes to see you staring at him, your pupils wide and mouth desperate, and he separates himself from your chest to kiss you deeply once again.

When you come around his fingers, Johnny whispers more compliments to you about how good you are and how he wants to watch you come undone because of him all the time. When he thinks you might be on the brink of overstimulation, he takes his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth to taste you.

“I’ll take this off now. Is that okay?” He whispers this into your ear with his hands on either side of your hips, caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I-it’s okay.”

Johnny slips your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your white sheer stockings. The sight of you sitting there on his bed, breathing heavily from your climax in your pretty thigh-highs, has his cock throbbing and rising to life once again.

“Lay back on the bed.” You do, and he settles himself between your legs like you did for him earlier. When you glance at him, his eyes are heavy and piercing. In this moment, you are acutely reminded of the fact that he is not a human, with how he looks like a beast of prey about to devour a meal. You are too nervous to look back at him for long, so you stare at the ceiling with your legs shaking from anticipation.

Johnny’s mouth on you is almost jarring in how wet it is, and you arch up into him in surprise and a rush of pleasure. He gently presses your legs back onto the bed and continues licking into you, parting your lower lips with his tongue and making your thighs tremble under his grasp.

If you had to describe it in words, you probably wouldn’t be able to. He kisses your pussy the same way he kisses you on the mouth, passionately and with more than enough tongue to satisfy. Johnny slips his fingers into you again as he curls his lips around your clit, and you moan unabashedly.

You’re quickly spiraling towards another orgasm, maybe quicker than you expected; but it makes sense with you still being so raw from the climax you just had. You gain enough courage to give another glance down at Johnny, and you see the way his other arm moves back and forth from beneath the bed, stroking himself while he eats you out. Something about that pushes you over the edge, and you cry out as you come on his tongue.

As Johnny gives you time to calm down again, he stands and finally pulls his clothes off, baring his body to you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a man so beautiful.

He goes to get a condom, and your words stumble from your lips before you can psych yourself out of saying them. “I-I’m on birth control.” Johnny looks back at you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite read. He comes closer to you, holding himself above you on the bed so his face is hovering just above yours.

“You want to feel me raw?” he whispers.

You nod under his burning stare, feeling like you’re on a high you won’t be able to get off of. “I need you, Johnny.”

Johnny climbs fully onto the bed then and positions himself between your legs. His cock is thick and heavy between his thighs as it bumps against your inner thigh and leaves a smear of precum behind. After putting some lube in his hand, he slicks himself with the sticky substance, preparing himself to fuck you open. Something deep in your abdomen shudders, and your walls clench around nothing as you watch him stroke his shaft, the squelching, wet sound of his hand on his dick loud in the quiet room.

When he’s done, he grabs your thighs and pulls you a little closer to him. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The slick tip prodding at your hole makes you want more, though you are a bit afraid of how this is going to feel. When it finally pushes inside of you, you gasp. Johnny watches your face for signs of pain as he slides forward further.

With two previous orgasms and the lube to help, his cock stretches you open with some discomfort, but not the kind of sharp pain you expected. Your nails leave little half-moon shapes on Johnny’s biceps as you squeeze his arms and try to keep your lower half relaxed, wanting to take all of him in—or as much as you can manage, anyway. You try to keep your breathing even as he pushes into you slowly.

Your eyebrows crease and your mouth tightens when he slides deeper still, and he pauses. “Johnny…” You worry your lip with your teeth, feeling like you’ve been stuffed to the brim—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you beg, maintaining your grip on his arms. “Just…try moving.”

Johnny pulls out and slowly thrusts back in again, angling his dick to find that sensitive spot within you. Your mouth falls open silently when he does; this feels much, much different from his fingers. This is better.

Johnny repeats the movement, being mindful not to push himself too deep—only enough for you to handle. Beneath him, your body begins unwinding at the pleasure he’s delivering to you, and your eyes flutter closed as the ecstasy takes over your mind. One of his hands goes to tease your clit as he settles into a good rhythm, and you cry out at the extra dose of pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well,” Johnny mumbles as he sits back and watches himself slide into you, both of your lower halves slick from lube and your own wetness. “So warm and wet, angel…” You can tell he’s using a lot of his energy to keep his pace controlled and gentle enough for you to actually enjoy. The idea of being fucked harder makes you ache deep inside, but you figure it’s best to save that for when you’re more used to this. You already know it’ll be difficult to walk in the morning after this.

Johnny leans forward to kiss your lips, changing the angle again and circling his pelvis into you, and a choked gasp escapes your mouth at the slow wind of his hips.

Johnny lavishes your neck and throat with kisses, and though he is a vampire, you aren’t worried about him biting you. His fangs have not made an appearance since all this started, and you doubt if he would ever bring them out in front of you. You don’t know if you should ask about it, either, wondering if it’s too soon after only a month and a half of knowing each other—but maybe you could say the same about him being inside of you right now.

“Johnny…” you whisper into the air, your fingers scrabbling against his sweaty skin. The mounting tension in your abdomen is close to snapping, and you are almost frightened by how intense it already feels. He moves his face from your neck to be face-to-face with you again and plants a heavy, dizzying kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve got you, Y/N.”

Falling apart in Johnny’s arms feels like a form of Heaven that’s meant to be kept hidden, because you might become addicted to it otherwise. Your inner muscles squeeze around his dick as you come. His name flows from your lips in a high song. You can’t imagine any physical sensation that could be better than this, his hips rocking into you as you tighten and cream around him, and you know innately that Johnny has ruined all chances of you ever feeling this fulfilled with anyone but him.

The constant pulse of your walls against his dick is too much to withstand for long, and Johnny’s muscles pull taut with pleasure when he comes, groaning into your neck and spilling overflowing streams of thick cum into you. His hips falter in their former rhythm, and he resists the urge to push himself as deep as he can into you.

When he pulls out, you whine from the discomfort of it, but also because you wish he could stay in you forever. You know you’ll be sore when you wake up—and you can already feel the very beginnings of exhaustion and ache settling in your body—but you’d do it a hundred times over without changing a thing.

—

Johnny curls himself around you after he’s cleaned the both of you up, as if he means to shield you from the world. You’re quiet for a while as you listen to his slow-beating heart and feel his cool skin against yours.

You look up at his face, which is hard to see distinctly in the dark of the room. With the lamp turned out, the only source of light comes from the moon now, but you can decipher enough to make out the shape of his lips and his glittering eyes. You know he can see much better than you in this light, and he takes his time tracing his fingers across your face and cheek, studying your features.

“Would you ever…make me a vampire?”

His body tenses at your question. “Don’t say anything ridiculous. You still have a whole life ahead of you to live. What I have here...this is no existence.” He’s not mad, at least not at you, but his voice hardens at the very idea of it.

“But what if I wanted to live it with you?”

Johnny takes a breath, but he doesn’t say anything to that. He just continues stroking your face and looks at you for a long time, like he’s searching for something. You don’t know if you truly expected an answer from him, or how you would feel if he did give one.

Eventually, your eyes begin to fall low, and sleep overcomes you. The last thing you register is Johnny’s chilly hand touching your cheek. When he notices you’ve drifted off, he pulls the covers tighter around you both. Then he presses you to his chest as he tunes out the sound of cars rumbling on the streets below in exchange for the beating of your heart—still alive, so red with blood.

[purpleyellow]

Industry (un)locked

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“The interview that never got posted”

Requested by: anon

disclaimer? I’m obviously not an idol nor have any relation to the kpop industry. all of this is purely made up :) idk if this was needed but its here just in case

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open! 💙

*italics represents actions*bold and italic is the person leading the interview*

Hayun steps inside the white studio and heads to the chair in front of all the cameras. She signalizes with a thumbs up to the producers that they're good to start.

“Kim Hayun. Born on June 15th, 1996. Debuted on May 26th, 2015. Current member of co-ed group Seventeen”.

“That's me” Hayun points at herself and then at the camera, making finger guns and getting some staff members to laugh.

“We'd like to remind you that whatever is said inside this room is fully confidential, so you may speak as much as you want to and as freely as you can”

“Well, I like to talk a lot, so you might regret telling me that”

“Simple question to get started, if you could go back and meet fifteen/sixteen-year-old Hayun, would you talk her out of being an idol or encourage her to do so”

“That's not a simple question, and you know it” Hayun laughs getting herself comfortable on the high chair. “I remember as a kid always asking for my parents to give me siblings, and especially missing them as I grew a bit older and didn't have anyone to keep me company after school. You can say being around people my age, or anyone who I can connect with is my number one source of energy. So I would encourage her to do it, because I know she really needs the thirteen brothers she's getting after that. But maybe I'd tell her she's not the amazing inspiring celebrity she thinks she is”.

“What would you say your relationship with Pledis Entertainment has been like, since you joined the company to now?”

“You're sure this isn't going to get leaked, right? The trainee period sucks for everyone, you have to dedicate a lot of time, energy, and discipline in order to be able to reach this insanely high standards. And I guess we're all aware of how though Pledis is with their trainees, so it's safe to say I didn't have much in me back then to develop any kind of relation with the higher ups. I do remember they used to decide most things behind my back. Like one day I arrived at the building and the CEO said 'You're moving to the Pledis Boys side' which was fine, but I could have used that information a few days prior or something. And even after that, when I brought something up to them, they would tell me they would think about the topic. And if they ever decided something, they would set one of the boys aside and tell them what they decided, so that boy could come and tell me”.

“That got better over time, though there's this weird relation between the group and the company, where we're completely free when it comes to the creative side of business. Yet the moment something more serious needs to be decided it's like they forget who makes up Seventeen. I understand from a corporate point off view they can't have a bunch of random kids in their 20s deciding what to do on a crisis. But they also can't push aside what Seventeen's message is and the picture we're trying to create. At the end of the day, I can't shake off the feeling that inside those big offices, some of those men only see us as a product they're trying to sell”.

“Would you think of leaving Pledis Entertainment?”

“I'm staying wherever the boys are, I don't really care where that is”

“How do you deal with hate?”

“Nowadays I'm one of that kind of people who simply doesn't care. After being bombarded with hundreds of comments from people who didn't know me but shared an opinion on where I should be and what kind of behavior I should have, I learned how to ignore everything and not engage in any conversation surrounding my work. That sucks, because I also don't have access to most of the nice and constructive things people say about me. But honestly it's something I decided to let go after I realized that negativity was getting in the way of how I communicated with other people, and how I saw myself as someone who always had to prove being better at something”.

“So you don't read what's being said about you online?”

“Most things I don't. I usually engage in conversations on Weverse which is slightly more controlled, and sometimes the boys show me some nice comments left on YouTube videos. Besides looking at cat videos, I'm pretty much dissociated with most social media”.

“Do you think that's something being an idol took away from you, or were you never that into technology?”.

“It's definitely something I had to adapt to due to being on the spotlight. As a kid I always enjoyed going on random spaces and making online friends, even if we only talked to each other once and that was it.”

“You don't look for what people have to say about you. But do you ever feel like you're not totally free to do whatever you want?”

“Honestly, yes. There's always going to have that little voice in the back of my head telling me how many young adults and even children are watching me and by association I'm helping them form their own view of the world. That's pretty scary to be honest because who am I? You know? Sometimes I want to do dumb things and less frequently I simply do dumb things because what there is to lose? But if a child comes and asks to do the same things I want to, I'll tell them no, because their life is too precious for me to let them do reckless activities”.

“What kid of dumb things are you talking about?”

“Sometimes I wake up and feel like bungee jumping. Or like, taking my car and driving without any coordinates for a really long period of time. Getting really drunk and smashing some plates around. Trying out parkour and busting my knees up because I don't know how to do that. I guess the best way to describe it being random rather than dumb”.

“So you're scared of what people might think of doing after you grant your personal wishes?”.

“I guess so. Since I'm not a parent, I shouldn't take responsibility over what others think and do. But part of me will always think about those kids alone in their homes, watching our content to pass their time and being shaped by the things we say and do. I also feel bad sometimes because I'm not the smartest person in the world, so I can't give them a detailed philosophical thought of how much their lives are worth and how they are the ones that make their own future”.

“Do you feel unprepared to be an idol when it comes to this topic?”.

“Well, yes. I'm just a twenty six-year-old who acts mostly over her instincts and fears of letting life pass by her. It's scary to think about children wanting to be like me. I remember during our training, we also learned a lot about how to behave and all of that, but it never sunk in how much responsibility it takes to be someone's 'Idol'. I try not to think about it too much to be honest, my wishful thinking brain likes to imagine that everyone knows how to draw a line between Hayun working her idol job and Hayun living her life”.

“Lastly, do you regret being in the kpop industry?”

“No, just because it gave me the family that I need. I sound really dorky talking about them, but that Hayun, before meeting Seventeen, had no future in mind and no support system strong enough to carry her around. I would not be able to face all of this alone in a million years, and I hope I never have to”.

[mariaiscrafting]

You know, what think I like when you are critical of a content creator is that you know how to separate a fact from especulation, unlike a blog out there that took especulation as facts.

Example, that night when we were critical of Karl, or any instance you have discussed about him, a lot of anons were saying that he gave them clout chaser vibes to them, and despite your opinion, you expressed that those were only especulation and not the truth, and to keep that in mind. That's good critical thinking.

But this blog had some similar anons, saying that he only is friends with the Feral Boys gro clout- In fact, they said the Feral Boys were only in it to benefit from clout and money. And they took it as a truth. I know you instance on them is neutral, but come one, they are friends. All of them. Karl isn't friends with them for clout. Like today Karl was playing golf with salad gang plus Sapnap and George at first and then Quackity and Dream joined bc they had spared time and it all devolved into typical chaos (Poor Corpse and Tina and Brook, had to endure those children lol/lh /j). Like, the stream wasn't planned with the 5/5 yet they joined, missing Karl and just having fun.

Idk, I guess that blog's superiority (They were a SBI focused blog) just irritated me. It's as if they were putting both groups at each other as if those streamers aren't friends or close. They were singing prayers of one while shunning the other based from especulation. Criticissism is fine, in fact recommended to be critical of your interests, but taking rumors as facts to base your crit is yikes. It's as if I wanted to crit SBI and base it only of "Philza hanging only with people younger than him is kinda weird ngl.." or "Sbi doesn't care about Tommy cuz he joined late" like that dumb Tumblr post did or some fuckers in Twitter imply.

The main reason I take so much care to separate speculation from evidence-backed theories and confirmed truths is because I feel like that separation is what distinguishes us from mcyttwt the most. One of the main reasons for mcyttwt's toxicity, imo - for its relentless cancelling of everyone, for its bandwagon campaigns - is that people oftentimes criticize and defend based on their personal feelings rather than rationale or evidence.

For example, I complain a lot about Dream stans on here, but you know the reason I didn't stop watching Dream directly after the cheating scandal broke loose, even though I thought he cheated? Because of mcytblr Dream stans. Mcytblr Dream stans engaged with me in discussion, both publicly and in DMs, about the cheating scandal, and even those who eventually came to the conclusion that Dream didn't cheat accepted the facts and statistics they were given and kept a healthy skepticism throughout the process. On Twitter, Dream stans were defending him before he even made a video following up to the mods' initial accusations because they felt that Dream wasn't the kind of guy to lie or cheat. They were replying to screenshots of statistical analyses from subreddits and to articles from mathematicians and staticians with extremely reactionary responses because of that feeling, which they believed in so adamantly, they had accepted it as fact. The thing is, to believe that Dream didn't cheat in the face of all the statistical and rhetorical evidence to the contrary is, in itself, speculative. Usually we think of speculation as a baseless theory that something is a positive truth- that is to say, that something did happen. But speculation also applies to those theories of someone not having done something, when the opposite has been nearly proven to be true.

For this same reason, I chose not to ignore the anti-technotwt threads with screenshots of Techno's old tweets in them. For me to have simply ignored these screenshots and continued supposing that Techno never expressed bigoted beliefs and/or currently doesn't would have been speculative on my part, and to boot, blatantly wrong, given the evidence to the contrary.

People in this fandom, and in all RPF/RPF-adjacent fandoms need to understand that almost everything they believe about the CCs they watch is speculative, at least to some extent, because of the nature of the content they make. Even if someone, in your opinion, displays evidence of some aspect of their personality - whether that be some form of bigoted, sweet, rude, clout-chasing, or anything else - because of the extremely one-sided nature of sharing one's life through a screen, that theory of ours will almost alwyas only ever be speculation, not a solid conclusion that can be drawn. We will never know these people's true intentions behind something shared to us via the Internet.

That vagueness leads to virtually every viewer creating a different theory in our heads about the CCs we watch, and we can't treat those theories as facts, especially not when sharing them with the rest of a fandom. I'm not a very big blog, but I consider even over 50 followers to be way too many people to spread a theory too, without at least clarifying that what I'm posting is speculation. If I have evidence, I like to list it or, if I can, provide sources; but otherwise, I take care to qualify most things with phrases or disclaimers that will clue followers into the speculative nature of whatever it is I'm saying. This is because theories and "feelings" can blaze through a fandom like wildfire, especially somewhere like Twitter, where so many things are word-of-mouth or based on summary due to character limitation.

You know why mcyttwt was cancelling Andi? Only a handful of original Tweeters under the cancel Andi hashtags actually knew what clips or tweets to criticize her for, or tried to elaborate on that criticism. But because every other mcyttwt user was getting bombarded by their mutuals hate-posting about Andi on their TLs, the "negative feeling" towards Andi grew and grew, even if most people didn't even know what they were supposed to feel negative about, exactly. Our judgement works on a quick trigger on the Internet because of the amount of information we're receiving, and so, even a single bad word against someone you don't have too strong of an opinion on can fundamentally alter your perception of them, usually subconsciously. If the first thing you see about Andi, who you've only seen on a couple LOH's or a couple Punz streams before then, is a tweet along the lines of, "disappointed in Andi for her homophobia and joking about suicide," despite you having no context, you will most likely be pushed to the negative side of her. Thus begins the cycle of hatred, building up and up, leading to you searching for more and more criticism about Andi, whether speculative or not, until you solidly and genuinely believe she is a Horrible Person. It all starts with the vaguest fucking feeling, because that's all speculation has to go off of, and it snowballs into a fucking wildfire across an entire fandom. I'm not about to be another person to let feelings snowball and spread like that.

Now, I don't know what exact blog you're referring to, but as an adamant SBI enthusiast, let me flip the argument many SBI stans have for their speculation upon the genuity of Karl's friendship with the Feral Bois, onto SBI. What do we have to go off of for the genuity of SBI's friendship, anyways? Our perceived brother dynamic between Tommy and Wilbur could very well just be Tommy capitalizing on Wilbur's brand and continuing the charade until now because it's been profitable. Maybe Techno only continues to associate with SBI because he knows how much his fanbase likes headcanon'ing about SBI, so he puts up with streams with them so he can continue to feed his fanbase with dynamics he knows they're obsessed with. Maybe Phil would rather play MC with people his age, and actually dislikes that he's friends with a teenager, but sticks around because he profitted so much off of Dream SMP and SBI-related content. And what could any SBI stan have to argue with me on any of these theories? Just because SBI laughs around each other and seems fond of each other doesn't mean they're actually like that behind the cameras. They so seldomly stream or make videos together anymore, anyways, so maybe they've grown tired of keeping up the dynamic.

Everything I said could be interpreted as utter bullshit, and that's because it fucking is. I don't actually know what Techno wants to do with his life, or how Wilbur and Tommy actually feel about each other, or who Phil wants to fucking befriend. The same goes for Feral Boys. There's nothing wrong with stating your theories or speculation, but to treat them as fact or not at least qualify such posts with the fact that this is all based on your bias and opinion, and no substantive evidence, is irresponsible. Just because you feel like one or more of the Feral Boys is "clout-chasing" doesn't mean you have the right to tout that feeling as truth. I feel a lot of things about a lot of CCs, both negative and positive, but no matter how strong my feelings, unless they have substantive evidence backing them up, I have no right to treat them as facts with my followers.

[maruscheese]

Bust your kneecaps

Pairing: Yandere!Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): Implied death, cheating, toxic relationships, some angst at the beginning?, just Fuyuhiko doing baby gangsta stuff lmao idk

Your boyfriend cheats on you and you seek comfort in your best friend, who is also the Ultimate Yakuza.

“Darling, please, let’s talk about this,” You begged, showing your boyfriend a pleading look as you watched him hurriedly shove the last of his belongings in a suitcase.

“There’s nothing to talk about, y/n,” He stated coldly with a shrug of his shoulders, pressing down on the suitcase and swiftly zipping it shut, and with that, he pulled the luggage off the bed and on the wooden floor, pulling out the handle and inclining it slightly, ready to head out.

“But you… How can you do this to me? You said… I thought…” You tried to speak, trying to find something to say that could touch his heart, try to find the old him, the one who loved you.

But the words just weren’t coming out.

Mainly because at this point, there really wasn’t much left to say. It was clear by the way he sighed at your pathetic attempts at coercion and the way he raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Y/n… Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, holding it in as he tried to find the right words to say. After all, he hadn’t stopped caring about you, he’d just fallen in love with someone else. But what would the right words be for telling someone you’d been seeing someone else for months now? What kind of words could possibly minimize the impact of confessing you’d fucked someone over and over again until it turned into something more than just a carnal relation? There really wasn’t anything that would make this any less painful for you.

“You just?” You asked, desperation in your voice. Did these years of dating mean nothing to him? Didn’t you deserve a proper explanation at least? 

“I fell in love with someone else, okay? I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen. We weren’t supposed to develop feelings for each other. But we did. And… And I’m not going to stay with someone I don’t love just to protect their feelings. I’m sorry y/n, but I’m putting my happiness first.” 

The words hit you like a bullet straight to the heart. It ached, it stung. You found yourself overwhelmed by all these awful emotions you wished you could say you’d never felt before, when you found his lipstick stained collars, or the much silkier, longer hair you’d find on his coat, or the cheap rose scented perfume that’d stick around on his skin even as you slept together, in the same bed.

In that moment, the emotions were more than overwhelming, though. When you’d first found out about his affair, you’d describe that as overwhelming, but this? No, this was so much more than overwhelming. It was on an entirely new level.

The hurt became too much, and your legs gave in, causing you to drop on your knees, stinging mildly from the sudden and harsh contact with the floor, but you barely registered it in the moment, finding yourself trapped amidst all this shock and hurt, realization hitting you like a punch to the gut. 

Apparently, you failed to realize exactly when he left the apartment too, but it’s not like that mattered since he was leaving anyway. He was going to chase his own happiness, regardless of how you felt about not being a part of it anymore.

The following days consisted of what you’d come to consider a rather comfortable routine based on sleeping, eating, pretending to watch TV while you stalked his social media, and crying. 

The third day after he’d left, he posted a picture with his new lover, along with the caption “Love you forever x” and you chuckled bitterly.

He didn’t even have the decency to wait a little longer.

In all honesty, you felt humiliation. You’d been avoiding the mirror lately, well aware of how red your eyes and nose would be, and how puffy your face would be, and how evident the bags under your eyes would be. How did you let something like this happen? You didn’t want to feel like this, especially about a relationship ending, but you couldn’t help the way your heart seemed to be stuck in a permanent ache. And now, your mutual friends would learn about your break-up like this, and about the affair, too. How embarrassing.

Not even 10 minutes after the post had been made, your phone was bombarded with notifications, texts, and calls. What had happened? Did you break up? Did he cheat? Who is she? How long had it been since you broke up? Why weren’t they the first to know about this?

After a couple minutes of ongoing nagging, they finally ceased. 

And an hour or so after that, a single notification made your phone’s screen light up.

“Hey. Are you home?”

It was a text from your best friend, Fuyuhiko, and even though your chest had been aching endlessly for the last week or so, a warmth suddenly enveloped your heart comfortingly, and though you couldn’t bring yourself to actually smile, internally, you did.

“Yeah.” You quickly texted back, and set the phone down on the nightstand beside your bed, getting up and quickly heading to the bathroom, knowing he’d most likely be there in a minute.

Still avoiding the mirrors, you brushed your teeth and washed your face, and just as you were finishing up with drying your face, you heard the door open and then close.

“Still got that key I gave you, I see,” You said from the bathroom, and you thought he’d at least chuckle in response, but all there was was silence.

The footsteps could be heard approaching the end of the hallway, and soon, you met Fuyuhiko’s face, painted with concern, and a small tint of that seemingly always present anger in him.

“Where is that bastard?” He asked, and you sighed, shaking your head and forcing a small smile for him to see.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Fuyuhiko, thanks for asking. I appreciate your concern,” You said sarcastically, and in a different situation, your sarcasm would’ve made him roll his eyes, but they stayed fixed on yours, determined gaze only being intensified by blonde, thick furrowing brows.

Sighing once again, this time in defeat, you walked away from him, and to your bedroom, trust falling onto your mattress, and Fuyuhiko’s gaze followed you, waiting patiently for you to respond.

“I don’t know,” You began, and his gaze softened as he walked closer until he found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, a hand resting on his lap and the other resting on the mattress for support. “He simply packed and left. Said something about putting his happiness first.” Fuyuhiko clicked his tongue and scooted closer to you, index and thumb finding a place under your chin and tilting your face slightly, making you look at him.

“Bastard knows close to fucking nothin’ if he thinks he’ll ever be happy with anyone that isn’t you. As if he could replace you with some slag,” His expression hardened and you could only try to figure out what was going on in his mind the second he looked away from you and fixed his gaze on the blank wall, little habit of his you’d found about shortly after meeting. He always did this when he was deep in thought, and knowing him, for the most part, his thoughts were no good. Especially when he looked so angry, like right now.

“I could bust the fucker’s kneecaps if you want me to, you know,” He blurted out, and you sat up immediately, eyes wide and looking into his perfectly calm and serious looking eyes, no trace of a possible joke.

“Fuyuhiko, no,” You warned him, mirroring the furrowed brows and intense gaze he had shown you before, and he returned it.

“What? Why not? He’s an asshole and the only person who’d miss him is the bitch he stuffs his cock into!” He argued, and you felt your heart ache at the statement, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, ready to spill. “Wait, shit, I didn’t- That’s not- Fuck!” Fuyuhiko yelled, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation and looking away, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

You shook your head and took his hand in yours, showing him a small smile as tears streamed down your face. “It’s okay, Fuyuhiko, I know you didn’t mean it that way,” You explained, and the blonde felt his heart jump in his chest, not knowing if it was cause of the way you suddenly took his hand, or because of how easily you understood him, and the way he sucked at expressing himself. After all, that’s what got him falling so hard for you in the first place, and what had him so displeased when you started going out with that cheating, good for nothing, worthless bastard. He knew you were too good for him, too kind and caring and understanding, and, to him at least, it truly felt like no one realized just how good you were, and how undeserving of you they were. The only one who could notice was him, therefore making him the only one worthy of your love. He was the only one who understood how good you were, and the only one who understood exactly how much you deserved, and it certainly was a lot more than he ever gave you during the time you were together.

“I don’t want you hurting him,” You explained, and he huffed, holding back from saying anything, but still giving you a look that said he still wanted to do it. In return though, you showed him a pleading look, and he turned away.

“Fine, I guess, but I can’t promise I won’t end him if he ever tries to come near you,” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Good,” You said. “With that out of the way, are you busy today?” You asked, and Fuyuhiko cocked a brow, humming questioningly. “You know, since you came over… I thought we could spend the day together. Being with you never fails to cheer me up,”

Fuyuhiko smirked and crossed his arms. “Yeah, no shit. I was gonna be busy, but it’s not like it can’t wait,” He said, and you beamed at him, rapidly lunging at him and pinning him down on the bed with your weight, letting small giggles escape your lips.

Ultimately, Fuyuhiko and you spent the weekend together, and it turned out pretty great if you’re being fully honest. You can’t just lie and say that in all that time you were together there was not a single second that you didn’t feel sad or think about him, after all, that was the main reason he was spending the weekend with you, or so you thought, but as it turns out, he actually did help you cheer up, a lot more than you had initially thought he could. The blonde noticed this too. It seemed like all you needed was someone to be there with you to help keep you distracted and entertained, instead of thinking about what he could possibly be doing, or if he was thinking of you, or what you did that was so wrong that it ended up driving him away.

The little distractions Fuyuhiko kept you busy with made time fly by and sadly, the weekend was gone in the blink of an eye, and your best friend would have to go take care of whatever he had postponed to spend time with you. “Hey, cut it with that pouty shit, you look too cute for your own good,” He said with a smirk, his hand resting on the top of your head, flattening the messy hair.

“You’ll be back soon, right?” You asked, looking at him like a pleading puppy, and he chuckled softly, ruffling your hair.

“Of course I will be, I just need to take care of something real quick, and I’ll be with you again,” Your lips curled up into a small smile at his words, and you stepped forward to hug him goodbye, pecking his cheek and pulling away to walk back inside, still waving until the door was fully closed. Despite missing him already, you sighed happily. It’d been a good weekend.

And as the Ultimate Yakuza was driven back home, a certain young man awaited, tied up and blindfolded in a basement, and his lover right next to him. 

The door creaked as it opened, and the couple visibly tensed up, chest puffing, back arching, and shoulders rolling back. 

The blonde smirked, walking over to the wooden table in the corner of the room, with a golden phonograph patiently waiting to play. He positioned the needle over the record, and music flooded the room, invading their ears.

“What do you think of the music?” Fuyuhiko asked, perfectly knowing that your ex-boyfriend would recognize his voice.

“F-Fuyuhiko?” He asked in a shaky voice, and the blonde hummed in response. “H-hey, man, y-you know you don’t gotta do this, right? I thought you liked y/n anyways! A-a-and now, she’s all free! She’s single and you can finally make your move! Shouldn’t you be happy? There’s no need to do this!”

“I really like this song,” Fuyuhiko commented, ignoring the guy’s attempt at persuasion. “It seems to fit your situation, don’t you think?”

It was only then that the pair took the time to analyze the music, and it’s lyrics, which had just started right after Fuyuhiko’s comment.

Johnny, don’t leave me

You said you’d love me forever

Honey, believe me

I’ll have your heart on a platter

The blonde’s smirk only grew as he watched the couple start to shake and cry, and he looked at the big man standing patiently next to the door, and giving him a nod, which the man imitated in response.

The man took a sledgehammer in his hands, and dragged it against the floor, the noise provoking sobs to escape from the restrained. 

“Please, please don’t-- Don’t do this, I’m begging you, I’ll--” The female’s cries were cut short by the sledgehammer slamming down on her knee, ripping a sharp cry from her throat.

Might you recall, we’ve got a small family business

And the family won’t like this

They’ll bust your kneecaps, ooh~

Fuyuhiko left the room, still able to hear the crying and screaming. Pleased with another job well done, and his hands went straight to his pockets, searching for his phone.

You heard your door open and close, and footsteps approaching your bedroom, right at the very end of the hallway, and when you turned away from the TV to the door, you saw your best friend, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, Ultimate Yakuza.

A bright smile appeared on your face, and you jumped off the bed, running to him and jumping on him, your legs wrapping around his waist, and your arms around his torso.

“I see you missed me,” He said, and you rolled your eyes, nodding.

“Come on, now, I wanna watch a movie,” You said as you got off of him, taking his hand in yours and guiding him to your bed. 

“What movie?” He asked, kicking off his slippers and taking off his jacket. 

You answered with a shrug and settled comfortable next to him, resting your head on his chest, his arm moving to rest over your shoulder.

“I hope I didn’t make you rush to get done whatever you had to do,” You said, looking away from the TV and up at him. He looked down and looked into your eyes, shaking his head.

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty little head with things like that,” He said, and you nodded, turning your attention back to the TV.

[senpaiisimp]

A Movie Lover

Iwaizumi Hajime x Nerdy!reader

Summary: The Vintage store around the corner is having a sale on all of their movies. You already know that you can take your time cause no one buys the Godzilla stuff...or so you thought Warnings: little bit of timeskip spoilers

reader is shorter than Iwa; also has a kansai bent (I like writing it so much)

Couldn’t get it out my head that Iwa meets his perfect match at a Video store (idk what their actually called, but it’s where you get old Manga/movies/vintage records)

A huge, huge end of the year sale! The biggest one in the area ever! You can’t miss this chance, how else would you stock up on all your Godzilla stuff! You thank the lord for Christmas money and set your way to the store. “No one else watches Godzilla movies anymore. I’ll be able to get the best stuff” is what you thought to yourself. What a silly thought

You planned to get stocked up on things to bring with you to America. You were going there to study in the film industry, you were obsessed with movies since you were little, so the states seemed like the best choice as there movies were quite good even if you couldn’t understand everything they were saying. Stocking up in your favorite movie series from your home country seemed reasonable in your mind.

The cold winter breeze chased you in the door as you entered the shop. The store still had the AC running for some odd reason so you opted to keep your beanie on which slightly covered your face. Not wasting a moment you hurried over to the merch section first incase the Jurassic Park fans confused your stuff for theirs when a loud couple of boys entered the shop.

“Iwa-chan, you said we were going to watch movies! Why are we at your nerd store?” The taller and obviously more eccentric one asked rather loudly before getting hit by the other. They must be best friends’ you thought as you moved to the back of the store where the movies were.

“If you listened shittykawa, I said I was going to get movies. You can wait in the cold if your gonna complain.” Iwaizumi said while leaving the whiny boy at the front of the store. Iwa just wanted to buy his Godzilla stuff in peace, he didn’t get many chances to buy for himself when he had to worry about volleyball things. Now that his season was sadly over, he preparing for his future travels to college.

Scouring the movie shelves he found the whole set of Godzilla movies. His eyes sparkled with the idea of watching every single movie in order as much as he wanted. He couldn’t wait and went to grab it however at the same time he wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings and bumped into someone below him.

That someone being you. You didn’t choose to be this height, genes just decided to hurt you in life not letting you grow tall enough to reach the movies you had your heart set on. While wallowing in self-pity and thinking of how in the world you would get the movies someone bumped into you. “I know ‘m short but ‘m not that short...” You spoke to the person as your turned and took your mask down to not be rude.

Iwa, well, he blushed. He wasn’t expecting a cute person to be standing in front of his movies. Before he could even get an apology out you spoke again. “If yer gonna apologize don’t. ‘M used to it but since your here and your taller than me, can you help me get the movies up ‘ere please.” After finally getting over his sudden attraction to the person in front of him, he looked to where you were pointing. I’m probably mistaken he thought to himself as looked in the direction you were pointing.

“Um, sorry which movies do you want? I’m Iwaizumi by the way.” He said as he waited for your response. It’s hard, like very very difficult, to get Iwaizumi to blush so he might as well push his luck and get to know this snarky person in front of him. You weren’t as bad as shittykawa so he thinks he could handle you for a little while. “Y/N, I was lookin’ to get the Godzilla series up there. can’t reach it tho, please help me strong man.” You pleaded.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say you didn’t notice his cuteness. However you can’t be focused on boys while the last of Godzilla was on the top shelf waiting for you. You can take in his glorious face after Godzilla is in reach. You were waiting for him to go grab it but he didn’t budge, just looked at you with a surprised face. “You- you want the Godzilla series? Are you sure your s/o wants-“ he didn’t finish his sentence before you softly hit him in the stomach. “Iwaizumi-san, I’m getting it for myself. ‘S a good series if ya give it a chance, if we were friends I’d lend it to ya ‘som time.” You said trying to make him hurry in case others come to take it.

He was stunned to say the least. He thought he would be the only one his age wanting to get the Godzilla stuff. You were cute and were into Godzilla, how more perfect could you be. “Uh- it’s just I was hoping to get the Godzilla movies for myself. There’s only one more left..” he trailed of as he looked back down at you. It was your turn to blush a little. Hot, into Godzilla, what is this a fanfic?! How can he be all these things. (Well about that-) Your inner geek came out as your started to bombard him with questions about the series, a little to fast for him to even answer.

“You like the series a lot huh.” He interrupted your line of questioning with a hot deep laugh before reaching to grab the movies. “Here you can have them, i can just try and find them somewhere else.” He said with a small smile as he tried to give it to you. At this point you were stunned. He’s nice enough to let you have it even tho the look in his eyes say he really is gonna be sad if he doesn’t get the series. You can’t let him have that sad look in his eyes, must protect his smile. Being bold wasn’t a strong suit of yours but hey making new friends that shared your interest wasn’t bad.

“I-if ya want, I could give ya my number a-and we could share it. You want it to, can’t just keep it ‘from ya.” You explained while looking down in your nervousness. He thought you were an angel. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he really wanted to watch the movies really badly. Thank god you were looking down and didn’t see the glee in his eyes. He clears his throat so he wouldn’t sound eager. “Y-yea that sounds nice. We could..watch it together too... if you want of course!” Way to go not sounding eager he scolded himself.

After you exchanged you and Iwa got to know each we through the love of Godzilla. Of course you wanted to be in a relationship with him but you didn’t want to put him through the pain of long distance. You told him you left the country for college but you never really brought up where you were headed moving topics really fast. It wasn’t till a couple months later did you think you it would have been good to talk about.

——————————————————————————

“Um, geez how do I say this. English is so hard I swear. The west dorm? How do I get there” Iwa asked the people at the desk in the best English he could. ‘No way.. You thought as you saw your dream man asking the head student at your college. As he was about to turn he spotted you with wide eyes.

“Please tell me that’s you and I have at least one person who can understand me.” He pleaded out loud as you ran to hug him tightly.” I brought the Godzilla movies with ‘me, guess I don’t hav’ to ship ‘em out to ya now.” You joked as you released him from your grasp.

Yeah I guess you don’t

BONUS

*at the vintage shop*

Oikawa was bored. What could be taking his best friend so long to buy a couple movies, he questioned as he walked in the direction his friend went. He walked around the corner but stopped himself and took out his phone to record this momentous occasion as he narrated.

“Hello future Iwa-chan, your best friend here. If your seeing this that means that my ship has sailed and your getting married to this cutie. Your welcome for recording your adorable meeting.”

The video is of you and Iwaizumi sitting on the ground laughing and giggling about something. Oikawa continued as he was about to end the video. “I’m glad you made me come with you to get those movies or else we might’ve missed you finding a soulmate, see you guys at the wedding. I know I’m the best man anyways so I’ll let my beautiful self take it from here.” Oikawa said as he stopped the video

“Nice kill, Iwa-chan.” He said to himself as he walked out the store knowing his friend most likely forgot about him at this point.

That video did indeed get played at your wedding.

The end ( ^ω^ )

[mammonspeanut]

Safe in an angel’s arms (Simeon x Reader

Idk I just felt like writing something about Simeon. Not as good as some previous things but I do like it myself. 

You awake to loud knocking at your door, as per usual it is Mammon who is calling for you to get dressed before you’re late to RAD. Shifting in bed you roll over, trying to be as quiet as possible in hopes that he would leave soon. You haven’t been feeling your best the last few days, which wasn’t anything new to you since you’ve been used to having this feeling from time to time. As you laid in silence you thanked Lucifer for putting a hex on your door so no-one would be able to enter without your permission. None of the boys liked the fact that Lucifer did it but to save your sanity you just had to ask for that favor. Closing your eyes after you heard Mammon walk away you could feel yourself slip into a deep slumber.

After waking and falling back to sleep a few more times you knew you had lost all sense of time, not that you had a feeling for it since arriving here anyways but, you had slowly been adapting to it and were at least during the daytime awake. You let your hand creep around in bed as the sound of Lucifer’s voice resonated in your head: “You know it isn’t healthy for humans to sleep in bed with your phone. You should at least put it on the nightstand.” You sighed as you finally wrapped your fingers around the cold surface of your phone under your pillow, maybe someday you’ll do it but for now, it wasn’t going to be an option. Even lesser of an option was you ever turning off dnd you thought as you pulled out your blinking phone from underneath.

Unlocking the phone you noticed you had quite a few messages from the boys, no-one, except Mammon, had sent an overwhelming amount of texts but summed up there still were way too many that you could bother yourself with reading. Glancing at the time as you pulled the covers closer to your chin, you were surprised to find out that you had pretty much slept all day. Laying there you didn’t feel tired enough to sleep but you also weren’t willing to stay awake. So you decided on trying to let sleep envelope you once again as you rolled over closing your eyes. After laying in silence for a while you suddenly began to think about Simeon. Deep down you knew there was no reason to do so but you still craved his touch and his warm, deep and soothing voice. You imagined what it would feel like to lay in his warm embrace as he quietly slept behind you, tugging you closer to feel your body against his. With your eyes still, close you let your fingers crawl under your sheets in search of your phone once again.

After forcing yourself out of bed to take a shower and brush your teeth you returned to your room to slip into something comfortable. Noticing your phone blinking you unlocked it :

Simeon are you still awake?

Indeed I am dear. Is there anything I can do for you?

Can I come over?

At this time of the night? I don’t think you should be walking the streets of devildome alone this late.

… true

Though I wouldn’t mind having you over. I do really miss you.

I miss you too… can you pick me up?

Sure, I’ll be there soon.

Thanks.

I’m outside.

After slipping into a fresh pair of clothing you grabbed your phone, toothbrush, and charger. Knowing Simeon would never let you stay the night without your meds you turned around to grab them as well. As you slowly crept towards the front door you prayed silently that none of the floorboards would creak loud enough for Lucifer to leave his room. After carefully opening the door you were greeted by the cool night air. Turning around Simeon flashed you one of his warm smiles before embracing you while holding you close to him, he noticed something was different so he held you a bit longer as usual.

“Ready to leave?”, he asked after gently rubbing your back. You nodded in response before slowly closing the door behind you. After releasing you from his hug you noticed that he had left the house only wearing a random T-Shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It was a rare sight since he only left the house looking the best but seeing him dress this casually gave you the impression as if he was just a human like you. After walking for a while Simeon softly grabbed your hand without saying a word, you looked up at him but he just looked straight forward as if nothing had happened. At times could feel him gently squeeze your hand when you got spooked by a sound, reassuring you that he was there and protecting you. All you could concentrate on was the way your heart fluttered in your chest as you both walked down the streets hand in hand. 

Upon entering Purgatory hall Simeon brought you right to his room. Although you had been in Purgatory hall quite often, sometimes a little too often, you’d reside in either Luke’s or Solomon’s room. Against what you imagined Simeon had his own room which was fairly empty. “I bet you thought I was sharing my room with Luke.”, Simeon stated breaking the silence as you took in your impression of his room. “To be honest, yes I mean there are two beds after all. But then again I’m pretty sure you’re happy to be alone every now and then.”, you replied as Simeon turned on his water cooker. With his back turned to you as he took out two cups from the cupboard you could hear the smile in his voice as he explained: “I do enjoy Luke’s presence a lot, especially since his views have been shifting greatly but, it doesn’t change the fact that I am far older than him and do need my privacy. Plus I wouldn’t be able to bring you over in the middle of the night if I was to share my room with someone.” Forgetting that Simeon wasn’t facing you, you nodded as you listened to the water cooker click and the clinking of spoons into two cups. “I suppose you are right.”, you said right before Simeon turned around: “Tea?”, he asked while handing you a cup, recognizing the art on the cup you couldn’t help but smile because you yourself had exactly the same one at home. Smiling you took the cup and followed Simeon over to his bed. “Come here.”, Simeon said inviting you to sit next to him on the bed. 

You spent most of the night talking about whatever popped into your minds, Simeon would tell you about the life in the celestial realm as you explained certain phrases he’d ask you about. After you emptied your tea you cuddled up next to him laying your head on his shoulder as you drooped one leg over one of his while he placed his chin on top of your head, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. You could feel one of his hands gently pet your head as he finally asked: “Why did you want to come over?” After a moment of silence and thinking about what lie you could tell him you decided to just be honest for the first time: “I didn’t want to be alone.” He let out a soft understanding hum before continuing to speak:“ Why would you be alone After all you are in the house with seven of the most high ranking demons, who also seem to pester you more than needed.” “I don’t know, I just feel so sad and I don’t know why. Though I am shutting them out I also feel like I can’t go to them because of their status. I mean come on how much pitty can the avatar of pride have for a mortal like me.”, You explain as you shifted in his arms, uneasy from speaking about how you feel for the first time

Another understanding hum followed after you uttered your words “That’s a really good and legit question indeed. ”, Simeon agreed as both of you were engulfed in silence once again. “Aren’t you going to pester me with questions like why I am sad and what not or bombard me with comments like "just smile “ or "it’s not that bad?”, you asked confused after looking up at him. A soft smile spread on his face as he brushed your hair out of your face “Oh no, though I do feel your emotions right now and know that you feel confused and lost about your deep sadness. I figure if you knew what was wrong or felt secure enough you would open up at your own time and tell me.”

“Can I move in with you?”, You suddenly asked as you held back your tears and buried your face into Simeon’s chest. You could feel his body vibrate as he chuckled: “Though I would love that. I don’t think the brothers would be happy about it. ” “I don’t care.”, you mumbled into his chest trying not to laugh at your own stubbornness as Simeon let out a chuckle:“ Very brave of you to not care but I’d rather not have my feathers plucked.” You laid your head back onto his chest and look at the door. “I’ve missed being alone with you to talk or just spend our time together in silence.”, you mentioned as you mindlessly drew circles on Simeon’s chest. “I have missed it as well.”, he whispered before kissing the top of your head.

After laying with him in silence for a while, listening to Simeon’s heartbeat you suddenly felt his soft lips against your forehead. The unsure gesture suddenly filled you with a sense of calmness and love as a warmth spread throughout your body. You sighed, releasing all tension you had in your body as Simeon pulled you in closer. The overwhelming feeling of security made you tear up so you buried your face into his chest before he softly put his fingers under your chin and tipping it upwards so he could look into your eyes as your lips ever so slightly parted. He slowly leaned in, stopping mere inches from your mouth as he whispered: “I know I shouldn’t do this but I’ve always wondered what your lips tasted like. ”

[earthbison]

You ever love someone so much that it hurts? I mean as in, there’s this friend I had, and we kinda of lost touch a few years back for no reason really, never argued, never fought, she was pretty amazing, probably the first time I realized I liked women in the same way I would for a man or any person really. Anyway with this whole COVID thing going on, I tried reconnecting, I’ll skip to where it’s at now, but I’ll say it started off rough, but is a lot better now. With that said, even with them sounding like they’d be down to reignite our friendship, I still feel like it’s me who’s putting most of the effort in. I’m not asking them to match me, I get that they may be busy, but considering they ghosted me the first time for all those years, I always feel I have to go the extra mile in my long messages to them which they say I’m not bothering and they don’t mind, and that they’re sorry for this and that, but I’m not looking for an apology, I never was, I just want them to hug me with their words again like they use to, I know that’s selfish and honestly not sure why I’m sending this to an artist who’s stuff I adore, I guess it’s because I’m scared I’ll wear them down if I keep talking like this to them about it, I haven’t overtly said “I feel sad because all this” I’ve just been sending gifts and words of encouragement their way, which is probably too much, I guess I just have this fear that eventually they’ll ghost me again if I don’t hear back from them soon, maybe it’s a lack of trust in them, or myself? I don’t know, I’ve been such an open book about how I had a crush on them back then, how much I love them, an all that, I don’t want to be overwhelming but I don’t want to feel hurt either? It’s funny because whenever they do reply, my heart feels so much better, gosh I know, I sound so desperate and needy, I’ve been a bit better at lower it down, an internally I’m not as depressed as I was about it, though I still am. I just want them to be real with me, I was about to breakdown over it on Monday, I was gonna tell them how sad I’ve been feeling and they finally replied before I hit send, they apologized again, an I feel like such an asshole because that’s not what I’m asking for or want them to feel, I just love them, idk why I’m rambling anymore, I know I’m super shitty in all this, I totally get it, I just don’t want send this anywhere near them.

Uh, wow Anon. I almost feel bad replying to this because I have to publish it. You may be better off sending me direct messages so we could keep this private for your sake.

Anyway, I’m not really sure where to start with this. Your story has notes that resonate with me in multiple ways. I lost my childhood best friend that I also realized I had feelings for when we were children (two women as well.) We never reconnected however, and I doubt we ever will. I’ll try to give you my best advice, based on what I’ve learned from those experiences.

I suppose, number one would be don’t assume everything is about you. I don’t say this in a way that I believe you’re being intentionally selfish, but rather I believe we can get so caught up in our feelings that we forget that the people we love and cherish so much have other relationships and a whole life outside of their bond and relationship with us. If you become too focused on how she’s not reciprocating things in a way that would make you feel more comfortable or loved, you can... distort your heart, of sorts. Feeding that insecurity will drive you to treat this person like an object unintentionally- as a thing to have and keep- rather than a person, who should be respected and given space when needed. This is absolutely vital, and one of the many reasons I lost my old best friend.

Here’s the reality of it. Chances are you will wear her down if you’re constantly looking for reassurance or even bombarding her with gifts. You shouldn’t be putting all of that onto one person because it’s exhausting for one person to have to “keep you afloat” so to speak. Your insecurity about her disconnecting from you again could in of itself drive her away if you’re not careful. Quite honestly I’ve thought about this extensively as it would be a similar scenario if my old friend came back to me. You have to understand though that people have lives outside of you and thusly so you should have a life outside of her. If you guys click again naturally then it will happen, if it doesnt- it doesnt. Keep focused on multiple aspects of your life. Things you enjoy, things you study, your job, different friends, etc etc and the rest will fall into place. It’s already great that you’ve spoken some, but if she’s quiet try to understand why that may be. It’s okay to reach out once in a while but don’t try to pry personal details out of her either, because it may be none of your business. Trust that she may be going through something, and if it’s something to do with you she’ll come forward and talk to you about it, and if it’s not then respect her space and her privacy.

Which brings me to my second point, don’t chase people. I know it took me a long time to understand this. You always hear that “if somethings important to you go after it” while at the same time you hear things like “if you love something set it free” and they contradict each other. When it comes to relationships, it’s 50/50 no matter what. You can’t push 75 and hope somehow it will work out while they’re only giving 25. It’s not fair to you. Really, that’s where self love starts.

I’m not perfect by any means. I still check on my old friend from time to time but I’m being firm with myself from now on to no longer contact them as they have stressed that they don’t want me to. I worry about her still as I know she has health issues but I’m trying to respect a boundary- as should you. Personal boundaries are fundamental.

Just be happy that you’ve established a reconnection and don’t over think anything else right now. Think about her perspective and do other things to ease your anxious thoughts about your relationship rather than bombard her with text.

Hope that helps some (and thanks for being a fan of my art lol)

[kotofvi]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: Leo      Age: 27       Contact: IM, Inbox, Disco

Character(s) I rp: Canon: Shiro, Sebastian, Dirk, Kyoya, Kurama, Nelliel, Maka, Dwicky. OCs: Hades, Google, Emogene, Dominic, Seirios, Iso, Felix, Reeves, Nyx, Zeru, Ren, Charlie, Dakota, Nemo, Bluejay, Koko, BD, Raven, Cora, Sammie, Lucie, Poppie, Ollie, Alphie, Bambi, Abbigail, Hiraeth, Bonnie, Rei, Rory.   Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Nelliel, Shiro, Rei, Bonnie, Hiraeth.  Current Fandom(s): Bleach, V/LD, Naruto. (I’m not deeply involved in the fandoms themselves anymore.) Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  Uhhhhh.. I basically have an AU for any fandom if I know it well and am asked for it.  My language(s): English. (I’m learning other languages but I don’t RP in them unless it’s just a sentence or two.)  Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: Modern, Mythology, Medieval. 

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. (I legit love all lengths, tbh, it’s more so with one-liners I tend to lose interest if there’s no substance to further it.)  Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  (I’ve admittedly been v busy, so if you’re fine with me takin’ forever-- YES) Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT.  How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) (It really depends here.) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC.(I post more IC, but the gaps between IC and OOC make it seem like there’s more OOC at times???) Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  (This is entirely because half the fandoms some of my muses come from are absolute shit so I have to be careful.) 

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting:  IM or Inbox-- tbh, Just kick my inbox in and screech that you wanna plot/rp with me so long as you’re a mutual. I’m honestly so laid back?? Sure, it might take me a minute but this is entirely because IRL things and not because I’m putting anyone off. 

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  Having fun? Having ideas? I guess, just, mutual interest? I mean, I’m here to write! I’m here to have fun! If you’re not interested in that much alone then?? I guess bye?? ‘Cause I’ll become very annoying to anyone who doesn’t have an interest purely because I’ll randomly ambush my partners with excitement and ideas. 

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  Oh I’ll just straight up ask if they want to continue the thread or start a new one! I mean, I get it, you can lose interest or otherwise just not feel it anymore and that’s fine! If you’re not interested in that particular thread, then no worries, we can always start more! If you’re just being one-sided in general, however?? I’m not gonna be interested at all and I’ll likely tell you as such. 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  Normally it’ll just happen? I’ll do my “Hey what if they ___” thing and then a rapid bombardment of inquiries and excitement later, there is a thread. It’s usually mutual, the involvement of creating this plot, but sometimes it’s just me being excited and them being excited and then suddenly BAM THERE BE THREADS. S’all good over here! 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: I mean?? I’d like to know, yes! But I get that sometimes it’s incredibly anxiety ridden trying to tell someone that you’ve lost interest in a thread. It’s alright if you don’t tell me, but if you can muster up the courage to do so I’d appreciate it! I’m not gonna be upset at you for losing interest/muse in a thread! If I cared deeply about the story, I might poke at you and then you can tell me?? Either way it’s fine and tbh, I don’t mind. However, please let it be known that you can take forever on a reply as well so don’t worry about just hoarding a draft too! Tbh, I had someone reply to a thread literally a year later and I was still excited for it!  - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?:  Just shoot me an IM or hell, make a list of threads you’re dropping and tag me in it??? Which ever! Or don’t even tell me at all, whatever works for you sugar! 

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  Hmn, being overwhelmed-- I tend to accumulate a lot of drafts and 90% of them are long so sometimes I’ll drop a thread or two to help myself get by. Also lack of muse/interest is a factor. I won’t drop a thread purely out of being overwhelmed unless I just can’t muster up the muse to respond to it.  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. Sometimes I get overwhelmed myself and I’ll drop a thread, forget to tell my partner, etc. Other times I’ll tell them before I even delete the draft! 

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  Yes and no~ Yes primarily! I get that others can take a minute to muster up the courage to talk to others and would just prefer to keep things to a few sentences at first! However, I can and will ambush you with conversation and interest nonetheless. Because communication is important. If you’ve got something you wanna say to me, say it! I’m here for it!  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  Yup! If you’ve got an issue or something that might come across as criticism to say, say it! Civil discussion is absolutely wanted here and I would like to work out any issues you may have with me or my portrayal.  - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  To write and have fun! To explore in depth the characters I create or take on! I mean, c’mon, lbr here-- my gremlin ass muses require some more in depth speculation and investigation into their characters! I love the creativity, the world building, the constant drive to do better and to make others feel something from words alone. The capability to rend emotion from another living being simply from reading and reacting to something I created is amazing and I want to make others cry, laugh, smile and think. I want to create. 

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  Oh man, there’s an endless supply of things I’d like to do! I want to explore the depths of my muses’ histories more?? Like Shiro, I want to write out the things he must’ve seen, felt, experienced. How Nelliel was when she was alive, how Shiro fared in the Arena when he wasn’t fighting, Seb’s life torn between the various throws of data and reality-- there’s so much! And ALL THE AU’s!!!! All of them!!!  

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore: Sure, I work with a lot of darker themes like torture, gore, etc-- but I will not write Rape, sexual abuse, nor will I write child loss.  

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: I can work with most starters! However, if I’m randomly given a starter that I can’t work with for the muse selected, I’ll inform the person who wrote it! I appreciate the effort given but don’t expect me to be able to reply to every random starter given! Sometimes, they don’t even show up in my tag. 

What type of characters catch your interest the most?:  Okay, I’m a sucker for the underdogs, aggressive folks and the villains. I’m not even going to try and lie and say I don’t immediately look at the Aizens and Kenpachis and go ah yes, those fucking gremlins, give me ten. I also love the background characters? The side characters in a show that seem so unimportant but have a crucial role? I love characters that have such an obscure involvement that you have to stop and ask why and how their involvement was crucial. I also love the soft beans? The ones who are so hyped with positivity and gleaming interest that they just can’t be ignored?? But then turn around and whoop some poor sap’s ass with that sparkle sparkle smile. Also love the upstanding moral types that also acknowledge that some things can’t be avoided and that morality is a grey area dependent on the perceptions of the individuals themselves. 

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  Hmn-- I guess the kind that don’t seem to have much substance to them? The ones that are just uncharacteristically too kind. Yes, I love the overwhelmingly positive types but?? Also?? The ones that are too kind and without flaw just?? Don’t strike me as interesting. Also the ones that are just cruel for some obscure reason just to give them a reason to be villains. I mean I understand but also?? Villains don’t have to have a reason?? They can be cruel just to be cruel. Idk that’s always just been a thing with me.

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  I guess that I’m fairly laid back? I don’t mind if you take 10 years to reply, I’m going to get excited if you message me with some random idea, I’m not going to be bothered by any ideas you suggest?? I can also sometimes give u doodles?? I don’t have time to doodle a lot but sometimes, once in a blue moon, you’ll get a random offering of doodled booty for ur blessing. Also gonna hit you up with random HCs, ideas, threads, etc?? Always?? Idk, I’m not too good at thinking about positive aspects of myself lmfao. 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: Hnnn, I’m too laid back at times. I take too long to reply and I’m busy af IRL. I’m often goaded into being irritated by some asshole or another so I can come off aggro af too when I don’t mean to be. Sometimes I can get overwhelmed and disappear for a week, other times I can end up overwhelming someone else by being too excited? I tend to watch how much I do and say because I feel like I might come off as smothering and am too used to being shut down and told to shut up so I just don’t?? Do anything sometimes. I’m also not very good at initiating contact sometimes so I tend to go days and weeks without speaking to others. 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  Usually only if it’s developmental for the characters involved. Sometimes it’s just fun to do! It really depends on the characters involved + if I have any muse in general for it.  - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  ???? Kinda vague, Idk? I mean if I don’t wanna rp somethin’ I’ll say so. 

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  The relationship, the depth of two muses who can be wildly different or even similar. The multifaceted involvement of others to that relationship, the angst, the arguments, the sad moments along with all the happy things and how hard one might try while the other is cold-- etc. I don’t just want happy dates and sunshine, that’s not how relationships work after all!   - What is your smut tag?: Kettledrums

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: I like a lot of pre-established relationships! However, I can be a tad wary of child muses? Aka: The ones who are children of one of my muses. Reason being, sometimes even I don’t know how they’d raise a child so the muse in question would be off putting to me because it’s out of my realm. Beyond that, I’m down for just about everything! 

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  Since I have so many damn muses, I’mma just go with Shiro for all of this-- I suppose what they could find interesting is his very multifaceted dynamic as a soldier, human, technical non-human (Zombae), war worn, space exploring person. He can be rainbows and sunshine but also can suddenly become incredibly aggressive and cold. He’s not one or the other, he’s all and everything that he’s learned and encompassed while still remaining fragile and human in the end. Writing with him can be inspiring and can be soul wrenching, depending on the thread. As for plots, dude your character could be in space in one thread if the otherwise couldn’t be. There’s so many ways to go about writing with him?? He’s such an amazing character and the plots he can be instilled in are almost limitless with just his main verse. 

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:   Hmn-- I guess the main one I have issues injecting him into place with would be the ones who are strictly non-tech oriented?? I mean, I can still have him there but getting him to fit is just?? Really difficult. Also with people who RP villains of his fandom and expect him not to be volatile. I’m sorry, but if you’re writing a S.endak or a Z.arkon-- you’re not going to get roses and butterflies with Shiro, plain and simple. If that’s something you can’t accept then don’t approach him with those muses.  - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  He works really well with most anyone! So long as one goes into it knowing he can be hostile with soldiers, Galra, etc; then he can be used no matter what. He’s one of my most capable muses that doesn’t have much of an issue when it comes to responding. 

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  Space, mechanics, biomedical engineering, people, freedom, fighting for a cause, flowers, his mother, violin, cats, sparring, getting stronger, constellations, nebulae, engineering, literature, alien languages, cooking. - What do they desire, is their goal?:  The safety of others, the freedom of others, the ability to choose, hope-- he wants to make sure those he cares for and all others are free and safe from the Galra take over.  - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  How they look at him. If they show signs of pity, of fear, he tends to walk away from any possible meeting with them. Otherwise, their appearance is what first catches his eye. How they dress, how they respond to him, how they talk and if he can make them crack a smile with an awkward joke.  - What do they value in a person?:  Hope, Strength, Loyalty, Purpose, Honesty, Patience. - What themes do they like talking about?:  Shiro’s more of a listener than a talker, but honestly he’ll talk about anything of interest and question anyone’s as well to get them to talk about it. It’s what makes conversation with him easygoing most of the time.  - Which themes bore them?:  Himself. He’ll try to avert any conversation about himself if it’s too personal or too close to something. It’s not so much that it bores him but that type of talk is reserved for those insanely close to him. Also talk of command bores the FUCK out of him. He’s never been one to really like rank. 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  So. Fucking. Much. Between being a prisoner of a war he was never involved with to being told he was a leader of a rebellion for said war, being a prisoner in the Arena and forced to fight and kill others, being held down and sedated as he tried to warn the others, DYING-- this boy has been thru too much.  - What could possibly trigger them?:  Certain noises, textures, Galra, medical equipment, certain lighting.  - What could set them off, enrage them?:  Galra, someone protecting him. - What could lead to an instant kill?:  Any bloodlust towards him or those he cares for. Most of the time, he has this under control and tries to be merciful, give them a chance; but sometimes, especially during an episode; there’s no stopping him from gunning for someone’s throat if they had any intent to harm another or himself. 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  Z.arkon, S.endak, L.otor, H.aggar, Druids, himself a lot of the time. - Is there someone /-thing they love?:   The paladins, space fam in general, his mother, his friends, people in general. 

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  Just approach him? Honestly, Shiro’s one of the easiest persons to converse with and get near. That doesn’t mean his guard is dropped, but he’s very easy going a lot of the time outside of battle. So long as you have a reason to approach him (even simpler ones like: his appearance, his arm, etc) then you’re set.  - Where are they usually to find?:  Oof, honestly? Anywhere. Space, Earth, other places-- he’s constantly on the move. If you want a set place, just say somewhere on Earth and I can work with that. 

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  Shiro is certainly easy to get along with, but he is not without flaw or issue. He has a plethora of issues even after the fall of the Galra Empire. He’s not without his scars, physical and otherwise. Approaching him is easy but getting close to him is not. Don’t expect him to be an open book. Just because he can talk about war, battle, fighting with a straight face doesn’t mean he wasn’t effected by it. He has suffered greatly and it will show the closer you get to him. 

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by: @skyvar​  [ <3 ] Tagging: IF YOU WANNA PARTAKE IN THIS INSANITY, PLEASE DO AND TAG ME IN IT SO I CAN READ IT!!! 

[jae-canikeepyou]

| dimples | j.jh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader genre: fluff + elite!au a/n: i wanted to try something new. idk if this is even good lolz. i went too extra with the names hahaha. you’ll know what i mean. ;) this is probably the longest i’ve written so far. enjoy reading~

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“i don’t want to go!” you sighed onto your pillow as she opened the blinds of your window. the sunlight irritated you where it meant it was the morning of the formal event.

“whether you like it or not, you have to go as you are representing the company! you’re the director’s child!” your assistant, sua said so sternly, she had to pull the covers and shivers went down your spine.

“it’s cold! and it’s still early!” you gave a tantrum, your hands wandered the bed for the blanket fabric.

“c’mon get your bum off the bed! the makeover preparation takes longer than the travel time.” sua tapped your shoulders.

you sat up with no intentions of fixing your hair, eyes glared at your assistant. she crossed her arms seeing the state of you, not so lady-like for the only daughter of five.

“it’s a masquerade party for young adults, sons and daughters of the top companies will be there. and your brothers thought you needed a refresher from the hectic semester.” she held your hand to get off the bed.

a click of a tongue made sua think your brothers decided something without your consent, again. they knew you hadn’t been living the life of a normal college student. and of course, being an only daughter had people’s eyes on you since you had started to walk.

your four brothers were all working, handling different sections and departments of the company. the fourth brother being seven years older than you while the others before him were a year apart from each other. a huge age gap, so you were protected most of the time.

mistaken as your bodyguards throughout middle and high school, but really they planned to beat up any boy who attempted to approach you. as mentioned earlier, they were ‘protecting’ you, when you were currently eighteen.

“dance? oh it’s going to be so boring. i’d rather stay home and eat ice-cream.” you brushed your teeth.

“miss y/n, would you rather want your brothers be escorting and guarding you all night?” she asked, making your ears perk up at the possible actions your brothers might do.

“no thank you, sua. i’m old enough to be handling myself.” you slipped into your slippers.

sua opened the door and together you headed down to the kitchen where breakfast was ready. your groggy self walked lazily when your brother were all dressed up for work— suited up, strong perfume and permed hair. they saw you still in pj’s and chuckled at the fact you had no efforts in trying to be lady-like on normal basis, except for school and other meetings.

“our little sister seems to be excited for the dance tonight.” eunjae sipped his coffee, the oldest son.

“who said i was going?!” you spat as you raised and rested your legs onto your chair. “and for the record i know you’re the one who put my name onto the list.”

“well y/n, it’s a must for all sons and daughters of-”

���of the top leading companies of the country.” you cut him off as you completed his sentence.

“mother had prepared your outfit.” the second son seungjae added, as he fixed his tie.

“already?” you munched on your toast.

“i think it will look great on you, bub.” minjae rubbed your already messy hair.

“our y/n’s having her first formal dance~” hanjae lifted you from the chair, spinning you around while you kicked repetitively, hoping your fourth brother would bring you down.

“let go! i’ll puke on you! mleh-” you complained.

“not on my new suit y/n!” hanjae still spun until he passed your body to your father.

“father! tell them to stop messing around!” you pouted, your father pecked you on the forehead.

“well i agree with them! you missed the senior prom last year.” he laughed as he sat down. “all the more reason why they’re happy for you.”

“it’s not like it’s my wedding.” you rolled your eyes with arms crossed.

“hm they’ll be more happy by then!” he placed you down.

“father! you-” you balled your fists. your father made a face by which your brothers copied him. “urgh! i’m going back to my room!”

a gentle hand tapped on your shoulders, later wrapping around them. the soles of your feet went to a halt. the person who was stern yet lenient at the same time, your mother’s presence had always made you feel like a child again. “never mind them, my dear y/n. they don’t show it, but they love you lots.”

you sighed. your mother cupped your face to bring you a kiss on the forehead. “if they actually do they better stop treating me like i’m eight.”

“maybe we will treat you like eighteen when we see you in the gown.” they said simultaneously.

“whatever.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the night came quicker than most days and before you knew it, you were sitting in a limousine. your childhood friends had spotted your limo arriving late. they were gesturing you to come out and in for the queue. at the entrance, every attendee had their attire all in glamour, like always.

you rummaged the insides of your purse, looking for that one item— the mask. gladly the event was a masquerade party. not like you didn’t want anyone to recognize you. but as mentioned, eyes were on you, so you had a certain reputation to them.

you later stood with your childhood friends and giggled at their jokes they made. “y/n, glad you could make it this time.” mirae hugged your waist.

“ah well. what choice do i have when my brothers signed me up?” you puckered your lips.

jaehyun along with his friends sat at a table by the staircase, where young ladies soon came to his view. he saw a specific girl who wore a backless red mermaid gown. her hair bunned perfectly to one side where braids aligned with it. strands of curls dangled by her temples and her gold mask brought attention. the classical music had softened, bringing to a pause.

“what kind of party is this?” ten threw a menu page to the table. “i’m starting to get bored. entertainment needed.”

“regret coming here?” mark shrugged. ten mumbled about he could’ve stayed home for a movie marathon.

“got your eyes on anyone yet?” taeyong asked his friends.

“ladies here are all pretty tonight, even with masks.” johnny interrupted the boys, where he noticed jaehyun staring into space. he looked to where he was staring to, only to have his eyes at ladies on the top of the staircase.

jaehyun’s lips agape when you and your friends walked to the food table. he thought your golden mask brought out the light in your eyes, something he couldn’t look away from. when the dance floor slowly got occupied, he already knew who to dance with. the only thing was, how he would initiate.

his friends saw him not paying any attention to their conversation, let alone knowing that they were even with him. his bitten lips showed how nervous he was. by that johnny and the others knew, jaehyun found a crush. they nudged at each other, doing few rounds of rock paper scissors to see if the boy would get flustered when they brought it up.

mark licked his lips and shook his hands, as if he were to spar in a boxing arena. he walked to jaehyun and asked if he had eyes on someone. “bet you it’s one of them at the food table.”

jaehyun slightly flinched, not that mark had noticed. but his ears told him the answer. “i wanna dance with her.”

“then go.” johnny appeared from behind. “it’s the girl in red right? go get her before i do.” he teased.

mirae pulled your hands when the force made your legs walk to the dance floor. you insisted on stay at the food table, but she said it wasn’t the only thing you came here for. as you gave in, the music changed to a much slower pace. the couples around you had partners, and mirae later was asked by a guy to dance.

oh how you felt awkward and stupid at the same time standing there as you looked for way to exit. the crowd was getting closer and heck you felt dizzy at the movements even at dimmed lighting. “can i have this dance?” a boy asked and you turned around.

he looked decent, smart and boy his smile radiated sunshine even at night. his black mask appeared like universe where his eyes twinkled like stars. behind the mask you already knew he was that handsome. “is it alright?” he asked.

“oh.” you gasped. “of course it’s alright.”

he bowed and held your gloved hands, bringing your left to rest on his shoulders. “phew. i thought you would refuse.”

you smiled at his assumption. who would refuse to a gentleman anyway? “i would appear a snob if i do.”

“really?” he chuckled and his pearly whites made you feel.. giddy. “you’re too pretty to be a snob. but anyway, glad you didn’t refuse because i’ve been bombarded with asks for a dance by the ladies.”

you looked from left to right as you tried to spot the ladies he told you about. realizing this, he leaned in closer to where his lips were centimeters away from your ears. “at your 9 o’clock.” he whispered.

ladies of your age glared at you with daggers, like you have stolen their beloved. “i see. i could tell why they would ask you.”

he raised his brows in question to your statement. “i guess you’ve been quite the magnet in this event tonight.” your eyes shone that jaehyun stared at them.

his lips agape and he blinked his eyes several times like dust had entered them before he looked at you again. “there must be something wrong with my eyes.”

“i have some eye drops if you wa-” you were cut off despite showing a hint of worry.

“i can’t seem to take them off you.”

you jutted your lips, holding a smile where it definitely sent butterflies to your stomach. pick-up line huh, smooth. was he up for a battle? he was trying to flirt with you, and you weren’t the person to back down a battle.

he twirled you around and switched hand postures, still swaying and stepping to the ever slow rhythm. “i told you how you were quite a magnet tonight, right?”

“yes you did. what about it-” jaehyun asked, but you cut him off almost immediately.

“you sure are attracting me too.”

jaehyun’s small smile was enough for you to know he was hit by it. he tried to hold back a sloppy grin before eventually giving up. “that was good. but did you know that you owe me a drink?” he whispered into your ears again.

your slight giggle made jaehyun smile, the anticipation in you grew. “i dropped mine earlier when i saw you at the staircase.”

“oh wow.” you fanned yourself, true to the fact you did blush. “is it hot in here or is it you?”

“i guess it’s me.” his hands that held your waist went a little lower, pulling you closer from the actual distance.

“you’ve got a way with your words huh?” you smirked.

“i do, but yours pulled my heartstrings.” he leaned in to where he bent down, leveling his face to yours.

he kissed you on the cheek and you swore the butterflies inside fluttered more than usual. bold move, but little did you know he felt the same too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“so you just forgot after you passed out in the limo?” ayeon asked you, leaning onto her arm that supported her chin.

“i didn’t forget. why would i? i loved the feeling.” you hugged your pillow.

the sun wasn’t up yet and there you were with ayeon and mirae, they chose to sleep over at your place after you had shots of who knew how many. ayeon eyed you, still suspicious of your answer. “what? i really did.”

“ooh y/n’s in love.” mirae teased.

“what’s his name then?” ayeon asked, making you flinch and up on your toes.

“agh we were so busy flirting with pick-up lines that i forgot to ask!” you plopped onto your bed, whining like a child who’d want a giant lollipop.

huge laughter from the two made you feel unaccomplished, or maybe you were just overthinking. you wore you fluffy slippers as you went down the stairs for breakfast. they soon followed and continued to tease you.

“it’s okay if you don’t know his name!” mirae said. “you must remember how he looked like!”

“pfft. as if. we were wearing masks last night and y/n passed out before we all took off the masks at the end of the party.” ayeon laughed as she took a toast from the counter.

gosh they weren’t helping you at all.

“anything else you noticed about him? suit? facial features?” mirae asked.

that question alone made you wonder and thought hard to the point your head had already reached the surface of the table. you tried to remember. he had a black suit, red bow tie and brown hair. his smiles to your pick-up lines were the only ones stuck in your mind.

wait. there was something else.

“dimples..” you murmured.

“what?” they asked simultaneously.

“he had dimples! oh my gosh! he did!” you squealed and rushed up to your bedroom, typing away words at a social media platform under a hashtag of the event last night. maybe there had been photos of him that might’ve reveal his name.

the two puffed breaths as the entered your room. “you sure you can track this guy there?”

you scrolled down several images, columns of selfies and aesthetic areas of the event hall. none of them seemed to catch your eye, more of, he hadn’t popped up in any of the pictures you passed by. “nope.” you popped your lips. “help me here.”

“wow i’ve never seen y/n so interested besides studying and.. studying.” ayeon said, earning a hit on the head by you.

“let her be since she’s so into dimples.” mirae cackled, eyes following at the speed of your mouse scrolling. “stop! he’s the guy i danced with. his name’s johnny.” she pointed at the screen.

“okay, not what i was looking for..” your voice getting impatient.

“no but i remember he tagged along with dimples.” her tone convinced you. “check his profile.”

you did as you were told, and the words slowly came into you when you clicked onto a certain picture he was tagged in.

“jaehyun.” his name escaped your lips, sending the same fluttering butterflies into your stomach.

“hey, y/n.” mirae snapped her fingers in from of you. “did i tell you johnny and i exchanged numbers?”

you turned to her with flushed cheeks and you knew you wanted to meet dimples again.

“y/n’s crush’s name is jaehyun?” one of your brothers yelled from the hallway. “oh dudes you hear? he’s a ‘jae’!” “whoops aren’t all jae’s handsome?” “y/n! just so you know we’re lowkey implying we’re handsome too!” “we approve of him!”

“stop eavesdropping you twerps!” you yelled.

should you greet him with another pick-up line when you see him? who cares?

you knew you’ll meet jaehyun again.

a/n: yes lol i had to include this mood board just bc,, jaehyun looks hot *shys away* hahaha :p

[eydaman]

Tumblr is really weird about the ships in ITSV. Like Miles and Gwen are so clearly pushed to be love interests. Like Miles introduces the idea of Gwen to his uncle as a girl thats he's interested in. Thats why his uncle showed him the "hey", otherwise known as the shoulder touch. Even before Miles does the shoulder touch to her, he's clearly really nervous about doing it, because he has a crush on her and hes a wreck. The whole reason his hand got stuck to her hair is because of the fact of how hes feeling after he realizes that it failed.

The reason I bring this up is that I've been seeing many posts, thanking the heavens that Miles and Gwen didnt end up in a relationship. Maybe its because i like the ship, or maybe its because i know that the movie was pushing them into an eventual relationship, or maybe its because i saw a post DENOUNCING people who wanted to see them kiss, and saying that they shouldnt be anything more than friends. But why is Tumblr really against this ship?? Like ive seen two main characters with way less romantical undertones get shipped wayy harder by people on this site, but not Miles and Gwen for whatever reasons.

More than that Ive seen two characters get shipped more with less Screen time in this MOVIE! You all know who im talking about. Somehow ive seen more spider-ham and spider-noir being shipped than our main two leads and like what?? These two literally had like 3 scenes together in this movie, but my god, People are really shipping a cartoon pig with a 1930 spiderman. Again i wouldnt mind if this was like a crackship, but this has way more on its tag than the actual pushed love interest.

Ah yes but lets not forgot the crown jewel of Tumblr, favorite couple in this entire movie. Doc Oct, and Aunt May. Oh how could we forget the incredibly romantic moment of Aunt May exasperated saying "oh great, its Liz". You know watching ITSV for the first time, i thought "Oh cool callback" and thought nothing more. But, nah apparantly people on here declared that it meant that they were really gay for each other. What happened about it being really "refreshing" to see the main characters, who again are being pushed together, be just friends. But nah, these two people who could maybe be friends? Ship them hard and ship them fast. "Oh but Doc Ock and Aunt May dated in the comics, thats why" i hear you say, but you know who else had comics related to them becoming a couple and even ending on them kissing? GWEN AND MILES! They literally just had an entire run of issue of them being a couple! But nope they should be just good friends.

Idk, maybe im just ranting because again i actually really like this ship, i think theyre really cute together. And im just tired of being bombarded on Tumblr of people exclaiming how happy they are or how glad they are that they arent in a romance, and i just wanted to share so that if anyone else felt like me, they kbow that someone else understand.

TLDR: Miles and Gwen have a couple of scenes with romantic undertones, the director said that they had planned a romance, the next movie is exploring their romance, they have a couple of comics exploring their romance including a different dimension with them being married. And yet tumblr would rather ship hamnoir and maybe two women who might be friends.

[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

Idk if I sent my message in early or not but if I did, I’m the overwhelmed anon. I can’t describe how good it was to see that requests are open. Things have just been horrible. Do you think I can request an Outsiders gang x reader where she comes to the house just sobbing and it’s hard for her to speak about who or what hurt her and the boys are super comforting and a bit tense because their upset that someone made her feel like this? If this is too much I understand. Ty for everything. Ily.☁️

Masterlist

Join my Taglist

Prompt lists

Hello baby! Please remember, we’re all here for you, all 1.3k of us. We all love you so much, and you’re never alone, you always have me to turn to and I’m so glad that you did. Requests are always open, but if you’re in a similar situation, want some comfort, and requests are for some reason closed, then you by all means may send one in anyways. You guys are so important to me and I want to make sure that you’re okay :) I’m so sorry this was late, I hope it still helps

You pushed the door open, wiping your cheeks free of tears but it proved useless as more immediately rained down. The attention in the room was suddenly all on you, all conversations hushed.

Immediately, Darry was by your side, leading you into his chair. He stood over the back, leaning over and running his hand over your back, hating the way your shoulders shook underneath him.

“What’s wrong?!”

You opened your mouth, trying to speak but only coming out with incomplete words, each one interrupted by sobs. You felt someone grab your hand but your eyes were almost swollen shut, preventing you from seeing who it was running their thumb over your knuckles.

You were bombarded with questions, mostly along the lines of, “who hurt you?”, or, “who do I have to kill?”, but each one made you think more and more of the situation and you only cried harder.

All seven of them were either on the floor, draped over the chair, or standing as close as they could, even Dallas, who’s brows were furrowed and fists were clenched. There were more and more questions flying at you, and only Pony saw the way each one made your shoulders tighten a little more, made your shaking intensify, and made your eyes shut even tighter.

“Guys, guys, shut up, she’s obviously incapable of talking, let’s not overwhelm her.”

You could hear that he was directly in front of you, felt the hand that was placed on your knee move while Pony spoke and reached out, blindly grasping at it.

He squeezed your hand back, holding your small one in both of his. Through many comforting words, a little subtle, and not so subtle threatening from Dallas, you were able to see again, your eyes no longer tightly shut from all of the tears. You forced them open, saw seven faces all staring at you, different faces of concern painted on each.

They smiled slightly when you opened your eyes, the willingness to be aware of your surrounding being a sign that maybe you were okay. Your cheeks burned slightly, the constant rubbing that you had done, trying to free yourself of the tears had made them slightly raw.

You were still crying, not done yet, but they stayed near you, waiting for you to be done. Johnny stood, walking into the bathroom and coming back out with a box of tissues. You reached for it, pulling one out of the top and first wiping your cheeks, then your undereyes, then finally bringing it up and blowing your nose into it. You began pulling at the edges, balling it up as small as you could in your hands, having to do something with your hands. Two-Bit pulled your hands apart, reaching behind him and pulling the small trash can out to sit next to you. You tossed the tissue in, beginning to pick at your nails but Two stopped you again, instead pulling both of your hands into his.

Despite the constant flow of tears, you smiled, seeing how strong and wonderful of a big brother he must be to his little sisters when they’re upset.

They gave you five more minutes, the crying eventually slowed and gave way to little sniffles, those eventually stopping as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

They all watched as your eyes began to fill with tears again and shushed you, reassuring you that you could take your time, that you didn’t need to speak.

You nodded, just focusing on not crying and they all sighed, relieved that you weren’t crying anymore.

Dallas muttered something about ‘revenge’, and you caught the word ‘blade’, so you grabbed his hand as he stood, not missing the way his shoulders sunk a bit, relaxing into your touch.

He turned again, looking back at you and sighing, bending down and sitting once more on the carpet.

“You don’t even know who made me cry!”

Everyone smiled, some laughing as you finally spoke, only to admonish Dallas for his rash actions.

“Is there anyone in particular he can go lie to your face about going to beat up and then pound?”

You laughed, Steve’s summary of Dallas’ ‘you hurt my friends’ reaction being almost scarily accurate.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it right now, if you guys don’t mind… I’d rather just try and stay happy for now.”

Soda was off the floor as soon as you said happy, racing into the kitchen and emerging a few moments later with a giant plate of chocolate cake, quite clearly three or four times the slice you would normally get. He dipped his finger in the icing, dotting some on your nose and handing you the plate and a fork.

You laughed, the middle Curtis child really did have quite a one-track mind, and dipped the fork into the cake, digging out a chunk.

The cake was long-since gone, half of the boys having stolen bites here and there so that you really only got a little over half of it. You were all full, which made you tired, and the quiet hum of the tv in the background was a nice contrast to the incessant buzzing going on in your head. You rubbed your temple, laying your head back onto the edge of the couch. Two turned his head away from the tv, rolling over in your lap so that his head was now near your tummy. He wrapped an arm around your waist, smiling softly as you yawned. The boys all watched as you finally got some peace, the pressures of life ebbing away as you slipped into rest.

Taglist: @spideyyypeter @the-outsiders-fandom @book-wyrm-snacks @nevergoinoutastyle2876 @huffle-homie24601 @ilostcount-helpme @dallyvally @lostnliterature @darrybutgay @stradling_izzy_stradlin @deathofthethrones @not-jay-cosby @writing-red @snoploop @johnnycadeissocute @all-thegayships @briisasinamonroll @bonjouritsellaa @lady-of-lies @ardentmuse @blueivysuniverse @dark-night-sky99 @ilovetvshowsblog @s0cial-retard @savethehoneeybees @luna-xxxxx @bvmakk @deathofthethrones @humblemei @trying-to-live-my-life21 @broken-and-alone12 @fandomnerdsarecool

[themjinterviews-blog]

22. Bitches, I like 'em brainless...guns, I like 'em stainless.

Are you better at telling stories or writing them? Writing them. I actually would venture to say I dislike verbally telling stories…too many variables outside my control…I could be interrupted, fumble over words, accidentally leave a part out, miss an opportunity to include a witty remark.

Name a band that you can’t decide whether you like them or not. Post Malone…sometimes I think I like him but he’s such an odd looking fellow I have a hard time pinning his face to his voice.

What’s one song you hate, but know every word to? The Daisy sour cream commercial.

Can you clap on beat and sing at the same time? Not for an extended period of time. I lose it.

Are you going to be or do you want to be a big star someday? Definitely not. I want to live a relatively quiet existence without being crippled by materialistic impulses or bombarded by fame.

Have you ever heard of the band Pax Romana? I have not.

Do you know the difference between an addiction and an obsession? I mean, they’re both mental fixations in a way but they’re not totally synonymous.

What one place do you absolutely have to go to/visit this summer? The NY Reconnaissance Faire. My sister and I always go every summer.

Are you already going to that place or still need to work out the details? …we ALWAYS go. Just have to wait and see what weekend.

What would be a clever name for a pet porcupine? Quillzilla?

Would you ever even consider keeping a porcupine as a pet? Nooo. I don’t want to get quill’d like Chance from Homeward Bound!

What’s one word that annoys you when people use it out of context? None spring to mind.

What fast food restaurant(s) can you absolutely not stand? They’re all about the same. I like most food.

Have you created any surveys that have been taken more than 1000 times? I highly doubt it. I don’t have a very large following/internet presence.

What’s your favorite magazine? I don’t read any because it’s 2019 and that’s what people’s stupid Facebook feeds are for.

Are there any holidays you feel are pointless, and if so which one(s)? Technically, all of them? But they’re opportunities to gather with friends and family to celebrate some common theme and I think society needs that shit to function.

If you could be an animal for one day, which animal would you choose? Squirrel. I have a well-documented fondness for squirrels…I even follow Squirrel Instagrams.

What band, musical artist, or song do you feel you’ll never get sick of? More than I can count… Muse, Volbeat, Chevelle, Marshmello, Chainsmokers, Eminem, Dashboard Confessional, Lindsey Stirling…

Have you ever wanted to be in the circus? No. I’d rather not be raped by the Tilt-a-Whirl operator, thanks.

Is it cool or annoying when someone blends two languages (I.e. spanglish)? No, be my guest. Speak Parseltounge for all I care.

Do people care as much about celebrity couples a the media thinks they do? I’m sure, for whatever reason, that some people seriously do. I don’t get it, but who am I to judge? I sit around on Adderall and answer surveys about myself.

Is it annoying when people use cliches when talking to or giving you advice? Ehhhh, it’s not they’re fault they’re basic.

What tv show(s) do you miss watching as a little kid? Lots. Of course, old school Nickelodeon, Gilmore Girls, Whose Line Is It Anyway?, Cheers, The Croc Hunter.

If you could visit any other planet, what would be your first choice? If outer space happened to be exactly like how it’s portrayed in The Orville, I'd go. Pretty sure it’s not, though.

Does it annoy you when people say, write, or type “dat” instead of “that”? It’s of no concern to me if other people defy the laws of proper english. I use it sometimes in sarcastic contexts.

Type some of the lyrics to the song currently stuck in your head. Nothing is stuck in my head.

Do you think college parties are overrated? As a 30 year old, yeah, totally overrated in retrospect. In my college days, they were usually okay or entertaining on some level. & If I got invited to one right this second, for whatever reason, I would still probably stop by for a warm keg beer.

Does it annoy you when people say “omg” or “idk” in a normal conversation? No. It amuses me.

Are you the type of person who’s always asking questions or answering them? In real life or surveys? I guess about 50/50?

Are you good with analogies? *toot toot* That was me, tooting my own horn, analogies are my jam. I essentially communicate almost entirely in analogies. Helps tie thoughts and concepts together.

Do you think Twitter is getting too much hype or does it live up to it? I don’t have Twitter, never got into the concept.

In your opinion, what’s the most boring job or position a person can hold? Subjectively, anything that involves math or being cooped up in an office doing math. I’d imagine being a Walmart greeter is also pretty boring.

Do you prefer outdoor or indoor concerts/events? I like the whole outdoor all-day summer festival ones.

Which fast food/sit down restaurant to you live closest to? None and all of them simultaneously. I live on the road in a semi-truck..

Do you think athletes and actors get paid too much money? Probably. While yes, I think it’s absurdly excessive I also think it’d somehow detract from the elite-ness of the profession if they made $12.50 + 1 week paid vacation and company health coverage. They would seem just like us, negating their appeal, because we use celebrity lives to escape our own. This is definitely society’s fault.

Do you know anybody who doesn’t like chicken? Vegans/vegetarians?

Who’s one person that can always make you happy without even trying? Depends.

What was the last thing you got out of the fridge? Krispy Kreme donuts.

Have you ever heard a song parody that was better than the original? Probably. I love parodies.

Would you rather hear a lie to make you happy or the truth that hurts? Literally doesn’t matter. There’s no definitive way to know how true anything ever is. As humans, our narratives and perceptions are so prone to logically fallacies and undetectable biases that it'd be silly to assume certainty.

What is your least favorite color? I'm incapable of disliking a color. I doodle all the time and there honestly isn’t a color I’m just like “ewww” about.

Is it really possible for one girl or guy to “make your dreams come true”? I’d hope not. When I actually *do* dream at night, they’re always bizarre, scattered sagas of pure randomness. Better off staying dreams, I think.

What did you honestly think of this survey? A little too much garlic salt but it'd pair great with a robust pinot noir!