#and idk how visible those each are but they have all informed me in a very unique way

[chocobox]

i think what makes developing my art style especially wonderful is looking at my older art and seeing the bits and pieces being there, but unrefined and lacking in confidence. like that's obviously me, that's my art, i'm just not sure what i'm doing yet. i love it so so so much and seeing pieces of my current style in my older art makes me feel all the more confident in the direction i'm going in.

[restinslices]

.

Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead 

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage 

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone 

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you 

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help 

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately 

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe 

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat 

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again 

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you 

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself 

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back 

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick. 

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen 

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work 

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration 

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment. 

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room. 

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that. 

“You look like shit” you said. 

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you. 

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing. 

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”. 

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what 

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time 

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone 

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space 

Just enough time for doctors to look you over 

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him 

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you 

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you 

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away 

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all 

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back 

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you 

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention 

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well 

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him 

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you 

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe 

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you. 

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try. 

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him. 

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there. 

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”. 

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away. 

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man. 

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face. 

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time. 

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead 

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit 

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case 

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating 

When they find you he's so relieved 

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job 

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him 

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you 

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard 

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you 

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead 

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that 

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels 

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him 

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery 

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back 

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him 

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something 

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him 

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive. 

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better. 

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah. 

“Tomas?” You said. 

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground. 

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out. 

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright. 

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip. 

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief. 

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

[uhgood-girl]

someone (hi, @sweetjikook, careful what you ask for, idk if this is what you wanted lol) asked me what my thoughts are on current jikook in my last post and in an attempt to not be redundant with all of the information already out there, all i can really think about is offering everyone some insight/context on a situation that i know a lot of people probably don't have experience with but i do.

have you ever been in relationship you had to hide?

but between just you and me, having everyone convinced i'm really bad at it is part of the self defense mechanism i built in a long time ago to make sure that when i have to lie, about the more serious things, the things that matter, no one can call my bluff. because i'm actually really good at it. i wasn't given a choice not to be.

how good of a liar are you? me, personally, if you were to ask, i would tell you i'm an awful one. just absolutely no good, can't control my face, i have skin that's prone to blushing (me + seokjin = 1 whole tomato), and even if i manage to get the lie out, it won't take me long to break. and these days, for the most part, that is delightfully true. most of my lies now are white or just silly, meant to be discovered immediately. i have significantly less to lose and am in a space that doesn't require that sort of skill in me anymore.

having to pretend you don't love someone when you really, really do is not for the faint of heart. for every moment alone you can steal together, those precious hours, or if you're lucky days, where no one else is around and you can finally let out all of the pent up affection and desire just to be close to each other that has been building up for who knows how long, there is far more time simply spent alone. alone, as in by yourself and then the type of alone in a crowded room, your partner visible and right there, but as good as miles away for all the ability you have to be near them how you would prefer to be. it's a special sort of hell, to be frank, and the only reason it's worth it is if you and the other person can some how make it work in spite. and i do mean in spite, because there are so many things to spite in those circumstances, but i digress.

truthfully (lol okay, but really), i think when you can ignore the reasons you're having to do it in the first place, there's something rather romantic about hiding. i'm not the first person to write about it and think so. it really does heighten the whole relationship experience. every secret smile shared, every touch stolen, every love letter slipped between the pages of a book passed back and forth in the hall, between classes, (don't romanticize your trauma, folks. do as i say, not as i do) it's low key addictive.

you know when you're in a group and someone says something bizarre and your eyes find your partner already staring back at you with an expression that confirms you're both thinking the exact same thing? that lightning zap of recognition down your spine, a warmth rushing your head and chest because there are few greater feelings than to know and be known, dearly, intimately? it's a little like that, but every single time you look at each other because what you're sharing, it's always a secret. and when it's just you and someone else against the world, it fosters a very specific type of camaraderie and trust, because there are real stakes at play if you mess up. if you are discovered, you risk safety, reputation, and worst case scenario permanent separation, just to name a few.

now, before we continue, i want to take a second and make sure you're not letting any potential preconceived notions about lying, that it's always bad, that thou shall not do it, whatever, cast any sort of moral judgements on the liar. we don't have time or room for that here. if you've never been in an environment where lying was required of you at the risk of yours or worse, someone you love, their well-being, good for you, i hope that never changes. but i ask that you take a second to recognize that lying is not always a negative, deceit not always malicious in intent.

you know who i think is a really good liar? jungkook. are you surprised? good, he's doing it right. call it "it takes one to know one" maybe, but i've watched our little baby star candy get wise fast over the years and at this point, he's got hiding in plain sight (i'm sorry, it's too applicable, iykyk) aka lying by omission down pat. he and i think everyone else involved, actually, knows that most people are going to go out of their way to explain his and jimin's actions as something else. homophobia in this case is both the sword and shield, as is the convenient culture of skinship and the rest of bangtan's puppy tornado physical affection with each other. i'm not saying they wouldn't be like that anyway, i think they would, i'm just saying it's a very convenient smokescreen for people trying to hide otherwise.

also, i'm not trying to make anyone here sound like some sort of evil mastermind, but it's my own personal theory that a lot of the more incriminating situations we've seen on camera were on purpose. whether pushed by jikook themselves (ehh) or the company (probably the latter, bc they're sure as hell in the know), i think something like having an obvious hickey and the culprit's admitting to it was a bit of a boundary test to see just how much they could get away with. people are explaining it away as something totally normal between friends? excellent, write that down.

i, for one, am glad for it. someone out of that pairing needs to be good at it and it is not mr. park lol. jimin is great at so so many things, look, i think he's a slytherin too, but just cunning and ambition does not a good liar make. his "flaw" is his sincerity, he means things too much. it's why those early years of him crushing on jk feel so painfully palpable. it's why you're not going to catch him in a live with the other man, at least not a spontaneous one, anytime soon. (he can't even play it cool in the comments, be so for real right now. on that note, jk isn't necessarily playing it cool either in those lives, but people are faster to write his actions off like i discussed above, for whatever reason suits them, and he knows it.) jimin protects himself and jk by not putting himself in unplanned situations where he's forced to lie to anyone's face (if he can help it) in the first place. it's one of the reasons we've gotten, imo, some of the most insightful answers about jikook from him directly (i love waking up and seeing him, i would want to have him with me if i was stranded on an island, etc.) because if you put him on the spot, 9 times out of 10 he's going to tell some form of the truth.

jk means things too, please don't think i'm accusing him of being disingenuous, i just think he's filled in for what jimin lacks and in this case and particular situation, jimin lacks a single false bone in his body. and really good partnerships have that sort of synchronicity, no? it's one of the reasons i think they work so well, why they've made it this far. that, and i really do think they have all of bangtan and the company behind them too, but that's a different post.

so, my thoughts overall on current jikook aren't really all that different from the perception i have had of them over the last few years. i think they're together and experiencing all of the ups and downs that come with every long term relationship with the unfortunate added pressure of not being able to be open about it (+ being world famous idols + living in an openly homophobic country + impending enlistment ++++ a 100 other things. the cards are really stacked here, sadly.) though, because of idol culture, it's not like they could be open even if they were in het relationships, something that i think is both shitty but also helps them in the long run. and again, i have been in this long enough now that i don't really sweat "evidence" that comes out against them while they are still being loud in their own way. if anything, depending on what it is, i like it because it is further cover for a couple with a whole hell of a lot to potentially lose if they're genuinely exposed. (when i say i like it, this does not include videos of jk potentially being stalked. and my shortest response i could give you in regard to those videos are 1. if it's him, fuck those videos and the people who filmed them, i hope you rot, i didn't see anything that makes me change my opinion of jikook. 2. if it's not him, fuck those responsible and the whole concept still but more ground cover for jikook at least.)

this too is why i'm not particularly bothered by people shipping them with other members. i know i keep emphasizing it, but when the name of the game here is HIDE, every misdirection is a boon. if tae wants to get on live and talk about jk and how close they are, knowing that it will cause a certain faction of people to be loud afterward, so be it. those are literally his best friends/brothers and if taking some of the heat lets them slip further into the background, tae has shown himself to be extremely protective of those he cares about and uniquely clever (now, whether jikook still want him to be doing that at this point can be debated, but i still think his overall intentions are probably good. though don't get me started on how that misdirection is potentially working in his own favor as well lol)

end of day, being in a relationship you have to hide is really fucking hard. it is stressful and painful and heartbreaking and you spend so much time terrified for yourself and your partner that on long nights when you are alone again and you have cried yourself to exhaustion for the nth time, you wonder if it's really worth it, if maybe the purest act of love you could give someone is just letting them go. and if you are unlucky, as i was, the choice is eventually taken away from you altogether. your relationship ends because the world steps in and puts mountains between you and this is not fiction but real life, so you are young and powerless to do anything about it. i wouldn't wish it on an enemy, much less people i really care for. if i'm being really super duper honest here, sometimes the thought of jikook not actually being in a relationship feels like relief to me.

obviously i dont think our situations are perfectly comparable, the main thing being they've kind of already made it. they're adults with their own homes and money and elaborate support systems that seem to include their family and closest friends. if they were exposed tomorrow, who's to say it would even ruin their careers, bangtan have made such an impact on the world at this point it's not a sure thing. but still. it would hurt, needlessly so. it wouldn't be a walk in the park by any means. even if they ever come out on their own, on their own terms, it won't be easy and i simply wish the world was not that way. i think it's really fucking stupid that the world is still this way.

so i know for me, personally, if we ever get confirmation that they're not together...okay. i think my heart will simultaneously clench and unclench. i think i will secretly maintain that they were together at some point, honestly you can snatch that belief from my cold dead hands, but i will not be upset that two people i (parasocial? we still don't know her) care deeply for are suddenly at less a certain type of risk of being harmed.

but until they stop being so loud for anyone paying attention on main, i will be right here, rooting for them to beat the odds. if anyone could, i think it's them.

[sevensoulmates]

I really appreciate you making the buddie meta post for 7x4, taking that many hours of your time just to write it and sharing it with us. I'm really grateful, I was literally giggling and kicking my feet while reading your post 💕

What a wonderful episode, it still feels like an out of body experience and I'm so happy Buck is finally free (I'm still in disbelief they gave us bi Buck in such a beautiful way).

I really wonder how they will give us the Eddie coming out arc. ¿Do you have any theories at the moment? Also why does it feels like Marisol will be kicking rocks sooner than expected? 👀

Thank you again ❤️

Thank you so much!! I mean I always have so many thoughts going round and round in my head about this show at all times so at least this gives me a place to put em.

I was beyond happy with everything we got in this episode. 10/10 no notes. I'm getting the feeling next episode is gonna be similar but is also gonna have some plot twists as well. The possibility of a double date has me V~I~B~R~A~T~I~N~G especially if Eddie doesn't realize the entire time that BuckTommy are on a date. Eddie and his queer blinders runs so deep and I want to see the way his face changes when he realizes.

I loved how they handled Buck having this discovery and I'm beyond happy they're not going the "gay for you" route with Buck (and I hope not with Eddie either). I'm glad Buck can exist in the world as a bisexual man outside of his relationships, but also in conjunction with them. They're all a part of him and he deserves to finally be settled in that aspect of who he is.

I do get the feeling that Buck's gonna be so swept up in the euphoria of figuring out his sexuality that he's likely going to be attributing a lot of those feelings to Tommy where he actually isn't wholly the cause. Don't get me wrong, I do think Buck is genuinely interested and attracted to Tommy, and I'm excited to see where that goes, but we're already getting some hints about potential issues with their relationship and I'm very intrigued about where that will go.

My prediction for Buck is that he's going to dive headfirst into whatever he has with Tommy and start seeking out the feelings/connection he has with Eddie, but in Tommy. I think the date will have some hints at Buck and Tommy trying to connect in certain ways and Buck in the back of his head finding *something* missing.

As for Eddie....HOO boy. I think that he's gonna be in for an interesting time. There's a chance he might break up with Marisol in 7x05, or I was also seeing spec about breaking up in 7x07, etc. IDK ANYMORE!! As much as I PERSONALLY would like to see them break up next episode, I think it would also be interesting to extend that relationship out a bit more just to show Eddie's sexual struggles and have her as a foil.

I'll give you what I would LIKE to see instead of what I speculate might happen because at this point the information we do know is confusing.

I would like to see Eddie feeling visibly weird about Buck dating Tommy. The reasons for him feeling that way can be nebulous at the start. I want this to cause some issues with Marisol, but I want his primary issues with Marisol explored separately from BuckTommy as well.

I would love to see more of his incompatibility with Marisol explored, whether that's in terms of how they act on a date, how they talk to each other, maybe even sexually (?). I want Eddie to genuinely start questioning why once again he's not feeling anything in a relationship with a woman. Like Ana could've been a fluke, but now Marisol too? I want him to think about why he just forces these relationships into something full-blown when most people would be able to recognize they're not attracted/into someone after the first few dates and end it.

I would love to see him possibly being dissatisfied with sex (if they go the demi route) and being really confused about if it's the sex itself, or the woman he's having sex with. I want some definitive building blocks for Eddie being like "I don't understand why I don't feel attraction to her" leading to an eventual "I don't feel attraction to women" realization. I think that Eddie's queer realization arc deserves more nuance and time put into it and a slow unveiling. I think it can still overlap with BuckTommy, with his feelings regarding them confusing him even more.

Buck getting kissed once by a man, understanding and accepting his sexuality right away, and being excited about it makes sense for his character. Eddie on the other hand I think is gonna struggle with it a lot more. I would like to see those struggles highlighted. Bring in more of his family (parents, sisters, etc) and show him struggling with heteronormativity around them. Show Eddie struggling to act "normal" in his interaction with BuckTommy when they're around him as a pair.

I would love it if a surprise kiss in the heat of the moment came in somewhere. Whether Buck is/isn't with Tommy and Eddie is/isn't with Marisol, would provide different ramifications. But I don't want the kiss to immediately lead to them getting together. I want them to have to sit with it, and maybe Eddie can then deconstruct his feelings about men, his sexuality, and his feelings for Buck at the same time. I wouldn't mind this struggle continuing over the hiatus and into the season 8 opener, or having this be a season 8 storyline altogether.

Either way, I do firmly believe Eddie's queer arc is coming down the line, and what we're seeing now is going to be the foundation for him to work up to it. As we know, Eddie doesn't really have sudden realizations. He kind of lets things build and build until it explodes and he is forced to sit down and think about it.

Also I don't believe Tim Minear about his "spur of the moment idea to have them kiss". What a liar. They were filming the scene with Buck, Tommy, and Eddie at the helicopter hangar back in January. That was a whole 3 months ago. Oliver literally said it was his first day back on set. You can't tell me you filmed that without knowing how the episode was gonna end, Tim. What a lying liar who lies. I do believe him that bringing Tommy in to replace Lucy probably meant they could streamline the queer Buck storyline faster in the season, but I firmly believe he knew they were planning to get to it at some point. There's no way Tim could've gotten the green light for it from ABC that fast without major lengthy discussions, both with TPTB and the writer's room. People take a long fucking time to respond to emails, Tim. Get better at lying.

[vilevampire]

idk who those people are would u like to educate me...

GLADLY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

just to preface this I'll explain what the fuck is going on in mairuma in general first just to provide context bc idk how much you've absorbed by osmosis (also I rmr I told u abt mairuma once on discord but . I don't rmr a single thing that was said in that convo, only that it happened)

buckle up bc this ended up getting pretty fucking long

"mairimashita! iruma-kun" is an ongoing manga and anime series that revolves around iruma, a human boy who got sold by his parents to a powerful demon and started living his life in the netherworld.

this is he. baby boy. his new demon found family enrolls him in demon school, and so while hiding the fact that he is human, iruma starts attending babyls demon school. his new grandpa (who happens to be the chairman of said demon school) puts him in a class for problem children, saying "that way your classmates will catch more attention than you, and you won't be found out (as human)!!!!"

makes sense ? no, of course not, but this is a comedy-focused series, so that's just how it is

iruma and his classmates. they're called the misfits class. I love all of them (except for … one …) dearly and could ramble abt each individual character for hours but for now I am only focusing on jazz and allocer. starting with jazzy my boy jazzy

baby son boy he is just a little guy just a little man he's just a son. jazzy is a character who is seen as cool, clever, unapproachable and mature to most other characters but is actually a huge softie inside.

he's also a kleptomaniac but he doesn't usually steal shit on purpose, it's just habit. if you ask me he's done nothing wrong in his life ever

(irrelevant tangent: jazzy actually has a specific animal theme. can you guess which animal it is ??????? I'm just fucking with you it's impossible to guess, but he's supposed to be snake-themed. the only thing that even suggests that in his design is his forked tongue, but it's. not visible most of the time so it didn't even occur to me that he was supposed to be snake themed until. embarrassingly recently. anyway)

jazz has a terrible older brother (named rock. their names r jazz and rock. like the moosic) who steals from him and belittles him constantly, but he can't fight back because his family values skill above all else, so they consider it his own fault for being vulnerable to stealing. basically "git gud lol"

because of this, jazz longs to be a better older brother than his own, despite not actually having any younger siblings. he becomes attached to cute, defenseless-looking things easily and is weak to people who look up to him and ask him for help. he likes beeing relied on and being there for others. he starts seeing most of his classmates as his younger siblings too

basically he is just a little guy and bc so much abt jazzy reminds me of myself (including his black and red color scheme) I am incredibly attached to him and he's my #2 fave character in the whole series (the first one is … well, you can probably guess)

now about allocer … where do I begin. probably by saying we know little to nothing about him, and not because the author particularly intended him to be mysterious, but just because he doesn't get much attention in the series as a whole. despite being one of the main side characters, he gets sidelined incredibly often. he's forgettable, rarely relevant and overall one of the characters we have least information on

look at him and his goofy lion face. there's no reason for him to be so ignored, it's furryphobia plain and simple.

(side note: over the course of the series his character design becomes increasingly yassified and he lets his hair grow + dyes it so don't mind that he looks slightly different in almost every picture he's in)

regardless I'll do my best to tell what we know FOR SURE 100% CANON CONFIRMED about him and then I'll dwelve into theories and hc territory (all supported by canon info, but still pretty speculatory bc of how little info we have on him in general…)

first of all he is smart. second of all. he reads books. third of all. he scored #1 in all exams. fourth of all … he is smart. that's it. wish I was kidding, but that's what his character revolves around most of the time. he gets outshined by other characters all the fucking time and usually just shows up to spout a proverb or say something related to knowledge and wisdom.

aside from that, his characterization tends to be pretty inconsistent (because the author doesn't give a FUCK about him) but I'll report on his most consistent traits and ignore the . multiple . inconsistencies.

allocer is a reserved character who doesn't talk much about himself (this is intentional at least to some extent, evidenced by the picture above). he seems to be kind of awkward, the way he phrases things tends to be unnatural, too. compare these phrases:

(I'll get to what the fuck is going on in this scene in a second I just need to ramble about allocer first)

jazzy speaks in a much more natural, conversational way, saying "what are you saying…?", while allocer simply says "incomprehensible". when he's not speaking in proverbs and book quotes, he often drops weirdly-worded sentences like that.

there's a few different scenes that help us infer that he's not good at dealing with people and emotions. for example, his fanbook profile lists "women's feelings" as his weak subject. when he gets confessed to he also states it's "abstruse", aka confusing and hard to understand

basically what I'm saying is that he's arospec and autistic-coded and nobody can change my fucking mind ok if anybody wants to argue w/ me on this I hope you've spent at least half the time I have studying every major scene allocer is in like I have. I have lost my entire fucking mind trying to infer ANYTHING conclusive about his characterization out of the NEAR NONEXISTENT CRUMBS canon has given us.

with that out of the way I can finally start talking about jazz and allocer's dynamic ^_^

jazz and allocer first become close when they're assigned to train under the same mentor, general furfur — love this guy btw — before performing in the "harvest festival", a kind of practical exam every first year at babyls has to do.

yet, for some reason, instead of actually training the two, furfur takes them to a bar. jazz and allocer question this, but furfur shrugs it off saying that connecting with adults is part of their training.

spoiler alert: furfur is a little shit and he brought jazz and allocer here to sell them into child labor to pay for his debts with the bar (remember the pictures from a while ago that I used to compare their speech patterns? that was them realizing they were being sold. lol)

and so the two of them r stuck in hell together for the next 3 weeks

(side note #2: I love their matching outfits. they look so cute)

in this hostile environment, a weird partnership forms between them. they learn more about each other. jazz tells allocer about his evil fucked up brother and how frustrated he is that he couldn't see through furfur's bullshit, to which allocer replies he is actually just as upset.

allocer's face isn't very expressive and his voice is often monotone (again, autism…) so jazz is very surprised by this.

AOAOOGUGGGHG LOOKK AT HIS BLUSHY FACE … HE'S SO CUTEEE AGG89R9. I'M normal . I'm ok.

the two of them start working towards a common goal: HUMILIATING FURFUR AND SEEING HIM CRY.

anw long story short they come up with a plan using every dirty trick they learned from the adults at the bar, their plan doesn't fucking work, they get made fun of by furfur, and they're still stuck working for free. lol

but that's how their relationship forms. what I find so fascinating about them is that they have no reason to trust each other given the circumstances, but they still do. they form an unbreakable bond. they complement each other too, one being streets smart, while the other is books smart. the partners in crime ever.

also mairuma has these little after-credits side stories called sukimas and . I will let the video speak for itself bc watching this is what made me start shipping them in the first place. just watch

they have more interactions I could talk about in-depth, but their partnership during the harvest festival arc is the most major. still I'll briefly go over some other jazzllocer moments that make me insane

at some point during the harvest festival, jazz gets disqualified (long story). and though jazz and allocer were working together during it, they were never an official team, so allocer wasn't disqualified with him. still, near the end, allocer states that "there's no point in winning if it's not together (with jazz)" (thinking abt this makes me want to detonate myself like a bomb)

when they're second years, they're put in another exam and in this one each of the misfits is supposed to protect two first year students from the teachers hunting them. jazz's strategy? he entrusted his incredibly important protegees to allocer and confronted the teachers upfront as a diversion. in the end allocer couldn't protect his own first years, but he did protect jazzy's, which earned his buddy a rank up (once again I feel like exploding at this very moment)

3. mairuma has fanbooks and that includes character profiles with some trivia on them, including a "people they are currently paying attention to" section. in jazz's profile, allocer is the first one listed there (meaning he's the one he's paying the most attention to), followed by general furfur and his brother. in allocer's profile, jazz is the first one listed, followed by furfur again and then a teacher he bonded with in a diff arc (if you can't read japanese you'll just have to believe me on this one)

btw despite ALL OF THIS canon interaction, these two r a very rare rarepair. they don't have a romantic ao3 tag bc nobody has ever published a fic w/ this ship. the ONLY fic under their platonic tag isn't even about them, they're just side characters in it. every day this fact alone spirals me into further despair and insanity. I am so fucking unwell literally rotting I am deteriorating flesh and bones losing every ounce of my fucking mind I hope at least ONE person reads this deranged ass ramble and starts to at least consider this ship bc I can't take it anymore they ahve NOOOOO CONTENTTT AAAAOGIGGHHGGO SOMEBODY GET ME OUTTTTT G924488948 gets put down like a rabid animal

[haunteddrawings]

after a lot of time, effort, and an unusual number of helpful dreams: demons <3

thoughts about them (I have. so many) under the cut

ok so literally everything about all of them is subject to change, but I’m happy where they are for now! I’m building up a lot of stuff for them, but it’s very work in progress. there is some important lore I doubt will change too much though!

the demons essentially are “evil” gods (none of them are super evil, but they are in general more evil inclined/presenting, and they all have pointy ears and horns so they’re one big group that was y’know. demonized) I’m going to have to design the “good” gods at some point but I have some other stuff I want to do before jumping into more mass character design, so those designs might force me to change these ones idk. it’s gotta make sense as one big world y’know.

all these guys (and the angels or whatever I'll call them when I get there) come from an original god. this gods pronouns (for now thy/thym/thyr/thymself) are the basic "godly" pronoun set that all of the demons share. this god also (and most importantly) shattered into pieces and leaked stuff everywhere. the stuff became everything that exists! this original god was made of everything that now exists and also nothing (y'know the science thing abt how before matter existed time didn't either? something about that) so the demons aren't flesh and blood but instead made of magic or something. this means that they all technically have the ability to shape shift, though it isn't a huge part of what they do.

also despite being gods, they aren't all powerful! they have the power to influence the world, but don't have full control over anything (for the most part)

now a rundown of all of them (not strictly in this order. kallie had to go first because of how important she was to me doing this at all)

Kallie: she/thy

my absolute blorbo. was my second demon but the one I cared about the most by far. did 4 pieces of her for a school project I love her so much. she started out as a demon with both a pink demon from and a "normal" human form. she also had wings and was a galah (pink bird). for some reason. her human form was because originally the idea was that she was infiltrating a high school in order to get close to someone so she could betray & kill them in as painful a way as possible. she was an agent of my hell on a mission. then shenanigans occur (this was supposed to be a comedy idk)

NOW: she's the demon of war, violence, and chaos. she's often confused with the love demon because of how much heart patterned stuff she wears. she's silly and cute! always wearing a different outfit. like 6'2" without platforms. she's extremely unreliable when sharing information, and thinks she's really humble (she's not).

Elio: he/thy

my first demon! used to be named sol so this name isn't set in stone but y'know. not a man! this is a lesbian! original concept had him fall in love with a human which I might keep but who knows.

he's basically a demon laywer. demon of laws, oaths, and fire. in the lore he used to be wayyy more evil, more fire than law, and a tyrant! he used to suck! much more chill now though, and more law motivated too.

Vesh: they/thy

sporty icon. demon of electricity, energy, and mischief (they're a troublemaker and a prankster). high energy thus: sports. also I needed a theme outfit-wise because it was really lame originally.

Cleo: she/thy

Cleo was the one I had a helpful dream about. she's demon of doubt, secrets, and being hidden. she can also shape shift into any type of snake!

shes really fond of humans, and really helpful despite having no reputation of being so. everything she says might be a lie though, so she helps point humans in the right direction, but her info needs to be verified. strong believer in shades of grey. she and vika despise each other. her horns aren't visible because I forgot them and couldn't make them work with hair so their really small. it's good hair though, right?

Nira: she/thy

demon of water & fluidity. honestly her design was so easy I don't have many thoughts. she's the tallest. very shy. either apathetic or full of rage and tearing things apart. something about the moon. that's all I got.

Vika: he/they/thy

demon of knowledge, facts, and the mind/the brain. pretends he knows everything but he really doesn't. an egotistical motherfucker. they are the largest source of information out there though. doesn't believe in maybes or subjective answers. if they answer a question with a maybe or subjective answer they will just tell you one answer. doesn't like sharing information but loves showing off. must be very very respectful and stroke his ego to get his (often extremely helpful) information. doesn't know everything though, they're not omniscient. he and Cleo despise each other.

Frankie: he/thy

demon of emotion, beauty, and sex. the actual love demon. a bitch but very very cool so it's waved away by those not victims of it. appreciate beauty and confidence above all. has a fun pink twin purple twin thing with kallie. they are not twins, nor are they particularly close. very dramatic. feels emotions very strongly. often underestimated.

Keres: she/they/thy

demon of darkness, death, and peace. an absolute sweetheart. cane user. slightly separated from the rest of the group. cares for the dead. a highly feared and beloved god. I love her your honor

and that's all of them! these probably aren't all the demons that exist, but it's all I'm making for right now. if you actually read all this, thank you! I really appreciate it. this is the most I've ever cared about ocs before <33

[theamityelf]

dude hear me out on the mpreg aliens bc it gen makes sense for them and I am going to explain this cause it’s kinda cool idk?

ok look as a space faring species population groups are small or non existent, so kn order to avoid dying out they had to adapt to semi asexual reproduction. The mechanics of it I could go into intensely cause it’s something a lot of my other species use if they’re spread over a wide area. To put it simple and without making it WEIRD: one member of the species has both ingredients for la child, but forcing these two ingredients together requires external actions ah la the demonic tango from hell either by yourself or with others. Or surgery. Or a lot of things actually depending on species, some guys kinda just grow little plants literally it’s like jellyfish. Anyways, to keep genetic variation since not having that is bad, the species of aliens (I’m calling them gorpos but obv that’s not gonna be their official names) can co create with other species that are similar to them. By similar, I mean neuron number to body mass (the reason why humans are so… human… is because we have a large number of neurons in compared to our mass). This is just to avoid any freaks making shit I don’t want them too. anyways, this process mixes genes and then sometimes mpreg happens wether or not someone has a womb in the relationship (or we get Yuri but like… hyenas…) because the Gorpos come from these small, like jelly looking eggs, if you’ve seen a mermaids purse (which I used to collect the fuck out of) like imagin that but it doesn’t have the horn things and it’s clear because baby gorpos are translucent. Little guys. The other thing is that like… Gorpos are like just as if not more intelligent as us, some of them just have like a thing for breeding… or mpreg… idk their their own guys they can be whatever they want to

Anyways cannibalism-

that’s another neat thing for them but first ima talk about how their mouths are set up. First thing is their tongue curls, it’s like a probiscus but it’s got this really really thin needle (basically, if they wanna exchange a language or information, they fucking French each other and stick this needle in each others brains, some can do this across species. Freaks) and it’s very sensitive. Two, their mouths are absolutely full of fucking knives. Evolution kinda fucked them over on this one, that’s why they gotta keep their tongue curled up. Three is if you see one with its mouth visible outside of feeding, run. Basically if they see something that looks like them with a visible mouth or no antenna, it’s their uncanny valley since that means something is BERY wrong (Junko).

ok so they very much are built for eating raw meat literally, and that’s what they do. Cannibalism occurs when a whelp is exposed either during the parents pregnancy or after birth in intense levels to ethereal energy. All gorpos have ethereal energy (call this god energy), and those with increased amounts turn to cannibalism to get more. This gets them closer and closer to ascension. Izuru was probably forced to cannibalize at first, but ethereal energy is more addictive than heroin so at a point you can’t stop. Once ascended, they are a god. Now this cannibalism thing actually isn’t odd for gods, who only feed on each other, like dog eat dog literally, but for most species this ain’t good. It’s not healthy either because cannibalism can have many long term health problems both mentally and physically. izuru strong but at what cost… WHAT COSTTTTT… freakiness that’s the price. also cannibals tend to give themselves more teeth, what I’m saying is that Izuru gotta be careful giving Makoto kissu so he doesnt hurt him.

Oh, I'm firmly in favor! You don't have to defend mpreg aliens against me, I promise! I would accept it if it was just for fun. (And you also don't have to avoid getting weird. We're all weird. 😊)

The neuron number to body mass thing is a really interesting way to distinguish the viable species. And I like the "If the mouth is visible, you should be afraid" thing and what it implies about how they would interact with/perceive humans. (Kind of like smiling being taken as a sign of aggression because baring teeth, etc.)

This is a cool AU! Avid supporter of Izuru "Mouthful of Knives" Kamukura rights.

[leaf-f4e]

hi ! idk how to respond to ur reblog but that would be super helpful if you could explain some of the “unspoken” rules and stuff of tumblr ! /nf

i can’t glean social information from posts and stuff ive seen very well so your offer was very appreciated and generous :). thank youuuu

sure!! im not very good at explaining things without specific questions but ill try explain some things i can think of

so the tags like you mentioned: theyre used for blog organisation, commentary, and visibility

so organisation tags: for organising a blog- they can be for post/tag filters to not see specific posts (usually the tw/trigger warning or cw/content warning tags) or through the blogs search function e.g. "#leaf's posts" i use this for all my original posts/non-reblogs. These are for if someone wants to see the things i've posted and not reblogged, they can search that on my blogs

commentary tags: for conversation or adding extra information usually people put additions onto larger [notes] posts (e.g. not by a mutual and a significant number of notes (uually around 50-100+, but not one where they are asking for input from others into tags instead of actual text like here. This is usually seen as more 'polite' but no one really cares if you put it into the actual text and not tags (its not rude, just not done as often). People have compared it to whipsering or saying something to your friends (your followers) while the actual text part is talking to everyone (such as everyone who sees that version of the post/reblog chain). (but that doesnt always apply, especially if its a more conversational post with mutuals etc.) its also used to add extra information that the poster didnt think was important enough to have in the main text of the post, or doesnt want as widely circulated if its reblogged

visibility: for people searching through tags, e.g. when people tag "#minecraft #mineblr" for people looking in those tags to find

also mutuals: These are people you follow who follow you back. People generally refer to each other as this if they have interacted and are friends (or close to being friends). I've found that talking to them (either through commenting on original posts, sending asks, reblogging with tags) tends to lead to that point. Most of the friendship of being mutuals is basically paralell play - you both reblog posts off each other, or post at same/similar times, etc.

thats all i can think of right now but if you have more you can ask me again, or if anything isnt clear i can clarify

[afactaday]

#aFactADay2023

it's certainly been a year. one of those years with over 360 days. and somehow i'm still going.

to get you up to speed, in case you're under some sort of rock idk...:

this is the third year of the fact of the day. each fact this year must be related in some way to the fact that came before it.

this year, i wrote 14% fewer characters than last, but my capital-percentage was up by 0.2pp and my e-percentage was up by 0.1pp.

#1095: i collected information on how similar facts are and used some rather dubious calculus to map the facts onto a "fact space". basically, each fact got mapped to a point on a space and how closely related two facts are is directly linked to how close they're depicted. it took a while and tinkering with the parameters slightly caused wildly different images, but the results are gripping.

this was one of the earlier results. you can see in the top-right, the most recent spree on water management systems gathering together. qanat-themed facts have bundled together even more tightly, as have wewas and wells. the fact on snow-cones (1052) is all on its own, but stems from a small island of linguistic facts. other islands are visible, like the Napoleon spree (920-929) and the post-Cornwall linguistic spree (1010-1017), which then leads through the Hofstadter-esque area through to aforementioned snow-cones. it's really cool how, even though we only inputted an average of 3.5 data per fact, islands of similar themes start appearing. it's also cool to follow the thread through. you can also see how the links become a lot less imaginative (the line becomes less jumpy) as the year goes on. it's quite hard to see because of the veeery low quality i've visualised this at.

here's a slightly more successful attempt at mapping the same data. i managed to stop it spiralling towards the top right, for starters. at first, it seems a lot messier, but this dense area highlighted in blue seems to mostly be biology-related facts. intersecting with this is a less-dense area of water-themed facts, in reddy-pink: 755 about the plumbing in the colliseum; 896 about sea creatures and 902 about cnida; all the ones above 1053 about water management; etc etc. i think it's really interesting how these "regions" emerge from a comparatively tiny amount of data.

here highlights on the same mapping some emergences on a smaller scale. lots of them are just sets of adjacent facts where i dwelled on a topic in detail for arguably too long, but there are some cool places where very similar themes are touched on by facts separated by months: for example, the middle-right blobs (an archipelago of three islands) are sorta musicy, with facts about Mahler, Bach and Tschaikovsky spanning months, as well as some artsy facts (and for some reason something about the lymphatic system... i guess the "bioloy" region sprawls more than Atlanta, GA).

i was initially underwhelmed by the results because i think a collective 40 hours was put into this and it wasn't immediately what i envisioned, but upon further inspection there's some incredibly interesting emergence coming from the not-entirely-sensible mathematics. this became so much better than i imagined when i set the constraint 364 days ago. if you want any of the code, maths, data, renders or results, let me know :))

and huuuuge shoutout to dackkers and ham (real people i promise) for helping me with the grind, and to ham and archie for technical help on today's fact. a lot of hours of work went into this and i couldn't've done it without you <3

thank you for a fantastic fact-filled year, and all your support on the third year of what was originally a new year's resolution!! it's been such a wild journey of a year. here's to another 365 (well, 366 ;) ) facts!! 🎉

happy new year!!! i wish you all the best of prosperity and happiness in the coming year, and i hope it's a better year for all of us <3

[hajihiko]

listen idk how to tell you this, and please do not take the tone of this ask to be aggressive, but you have got to start questioning yourself a little more. why are all your least favorite characters the most visibly mentally ill? why are you comfortable saying a character will need several years of therapy before they are able to have friendships? i know youre going to reply to this saying like, oh, i hc other characters as mentally ill, or oh, i'm mentally ill myself - i can't possibly be ableist! and then all your followers will be like yeah ur fine we love you, but im begging you. its okay to dislike characters, but its such an obvious pattern that the ones who have visible, uncomfortable mental health problems that make them unpleasant are, mysteriously, the ones you have the least sympathy for. i do not care whether you consider yourself ableist, whether you headcanon more pleasant characters as mentally ill, whether youre mentally ill yourself - you are posting ableist things. someone doesnt need to be cured or fixed before they should be allowed to have meaningful relationships

Okay, I've read this message over a few times and have it under consideration (? I think that's the phrase).

I do think you got some information wrong, I could be mistaken but after looking through my own posts I think you might've misread something. What I *have* said (before I watched the OVA) is that I dont think Hajime and Nagito should specifically date *each other* until they get therapy / work through their problems (although I do think that, thematically, they make sense as eventual love interests). Again, hadn't watched the OVA, so I was basing it on their interactions in game only, the OVA sort of changes directions from how the game left off.

Never said anything about anyone not having meaningful relationships until they get therapy, and have actually said that a good social net (meaningful relationships, friendly or romantic) are integral to healing from traumatic events. Not saying I haven't given off a bad impression maybe or implied something, if so do tell me because it was probably not intentional and might've slipped by me, but I'm speaking from a factual search of my blog. Not something I have ever said, as far as I can see, and not something I believe anyhow.

I actually mention pretty frequently that I think Nagito (I assume this is mostly about him) is an interesting character that I like, but find complex. My least favourite characters are Hiyoko, Mahiru and Teru (sorry fans of those! I dont mean anything by it it's literally just the vibes) that's why I don't really draw them. The OVA endeared Nagito to me, which is why I've been drawing him on a friendship journey lately, so if you're assuming I don't like him that's more incorrect now than ever.

By all means if you wanna talk about this more openly in chat, I'm down (though my timezone tends to clash). I feel you've put some words in my mouth.

[haneuble]

reasons why episode 6 of the eclipse series should not have been shown to me: a very serious, very rational, write up

[THE ECLIPSE SERIES EP 6 SPOILERS!]

so far, we've seen many tension-filled akkayan moments - whenever they get a whiff of that locker room air, or a feel of each other on the crash mat - but EPSIODE 6??!!?!!! i'd like to say i have no words but i'm afraid i cant hold my thoughts in any longer or i'll literally exothermic-reaction combust. let us begin...

the all-revealing scene

even tho this scene is a lead on from ep 5, it still made me sit up with shock. the anticipation and the tense atmosphere when aye discovers the truth behind so many happenings and akk's visible panic to find out he's been uncovered is just the perfect combo in this scene. and even tho aye has just found out damaging information, instead of throwing akk under the bus, he helps him hide from teacher sani. it's the way he constantly protects akk, despite the circumstances, that never fails to make me giggle and kick my feet. and omg the tension?? through the roof. I WAS SO HAPPY AYE WAS THE ONE TO FIND AKK (but also anxious)

2. the firepit scene

"akk! look into my eyes. nothing is the best. you can't carry all the school problems on your shoulder. do you get it?" "but i must do it! if i can't, everyone will be disappointed in me." "screw those people!"

now this pushed me to my limit. we hoped for affection and we got emotional vulnerability, on both sides. akk with his hero complex, breaking down in tears before aye (aka the only person i've seen him be this unguarded around), and ayan crying after seeing akk so tormented by the good-boy persona he's trying to maintain. honestly, tears rimmed my eyes bc i FELT for both of them during the peak of this scene. aye holding akk's face to calm him and akk just allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of him.. it just UGH

3. their quiet yet LOUD moment

this scene bro. when i tell you i squealed when aye got all flirty n shit and the way akk was just LETTING him do this until they got caught (eyeroll). we see a clear change from the first episodes where akk would immediately push aye away or escape the situation where as now, he seems to accept and almost.. yearn for it? wtv it was, it made want to push their heads together and give us all what we've been ever so patiently waiting for. the way aye has the ability to be flirty while being accusing of akk is genuinely attractive. idc.

4. my final effing straw

THE NIGHTMARE TROPPEEE HELLL YEAAHHHH best trope going i swear. the way akk instantly comforted aye with a hug and was the first to lean in for a kiss for once??? the way they've become so fond of one another is just entirely tender and warm and i so thoroughly enjoyed this scene that i replayed it at least 3 times. he didn't hesitate to make sure ayan felt safe during the nightmare and neither did he pull away when aye leant in for the kiss.

the safe aura this scene encapsulates is just immaculate and first and khaotung couldn't have done a better job at executing it. akk finally caved and wasn't forced into doing so, he did it voluntarily, of his own free will. he wanted to kiss aye. he wanted to make him feel safe in his arms and protect him from his nightmare. i love them. i really do. i'm happy this was the way they shared their first proper kiss, with mutual pining after a long day and in the comforts of akk's dorm bed. so homely it gives me butterflies DKDJHDJKS

this scene reminds me of leith ross' - We'll Never Have Sex "Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me Not to take me home It was simple, it was sweetness It was good to know"

but anyways.. that concludes this vent for now. in short, this episode should've been kept from my view because idk how im gonna cope when the series ends! 😃

[odekiisu]

Basic Guide to Clone Trooper Armour

I don’t know about you guys, but I have a hard time keeping the terms for various parts of clone armour straight in my mind. So, I decided to make this Guide To Armour, to make my life easier for those times I’m drawing or writing stuff and need to reference what this, that or the other piece is called, how it’s put on or taken off. (I’ve also tried to include/come up with some casual or slang terms for some parts because you cannot seriously expect these guys to use the Right Proper Terminology for everything all of the time.)

This is based on the Clone Wars cartoons, because that’s what I know best. Also, this is just the standard armour of regular troopers; if y’all want something about the possible additions/variations that you could have then lmk and I’ll see what I can put together I guess?

Note: a lot of this terminology is taken from medieval knights’ armour. Many terms are originally French; alternative names provided where possible. I did do a bit of research on medieval plate armour, which is the closest thing I can think of to clone armour, but I am by no means an expert so if you have any input or corrections feel free to @ me. Likewise, if you’ve cosplayed as a clone trooper or stormtrooper, I’d very much like to hear about your experience wearing this stuff, how it moves and how it might be similar or different to the “real thing” so to speak.

Figure 1: Clone trooper armour, front view. Kix got chosen for this because he’s a vain little bastard and loves to be painted. (ETA: this diagram now comes with a second, funnier version.)

(long post under cut)

Figure 2: Back view of armour.

According to Wookieepedia: The armour is produced on Kamino and has UV spectrum markings visible to Kaminoans. It is made of plastoid-alloy composite, and the plates are attached to the bodysuit via magnatomic gription panels. In general, Phase II armour is lighter, stronger and more ergonomic than Phase I, which has been described as heavy and uncomfortable (Wookieepedia also says that it weighs ‘just under forty kilograms’ which sounds like way too much but eh, I’ll roll with it.)

Body glove/bodysuit – the stuff worn under the armour. Provides thermoregulation, some level of protection from things like blasterfire, vacuum, etc. AKA: blacks.

Helmet – The Bucket. Stuffed full of various tech: tracking device, display screen, comlink… Phase I helmets also have life support capabilities, while Phase II helmets do not, requiring an external oxygen supply*. Helmet crest contains comlink antenna. AKA: bucket, I think Rex once called them sun-bonnets, etc… this is the piece likely to have the most slang terms associated with it. Go wild.

* this is according to Wookieepedia; I’m a bit sceptical but I haven’t yet seen the episode it refers to. I headcanon that Phase II is capable of limited life support for emergency situations, but extended missions require external respirators.

Cuirass – there is some conflicting information on whether this refers to just the front chest armour or both front and back. If both, it consists of breastplate and backplate, joined at the sides and shoulders. Shoulder connections appear to be different for Phase I and Phase II: Phase I has a separate piece covering the shoulder seam, implying that it can be opened, whereas Phase II looks like it has an integrated flexible band; it may or may not be possible to disconnect. Either way, the front and back pieces must be able to separate in order to get the whole thing on.

Plackart – belly piece, wraps around the back to protect kidneys as well. Probably flexible to some extent, has been seen to slide down under belt, as demonstrated by Jesse in Figure 3. Might also have to have at least one open-able seam in it in order for troopers to get into it efficiently.

Figure 3: I have no idea how the lower edge of this isn’t stabbing him in the crotch, but *shrug*.

Spaulder/shoulder bell – also known as pauldrons irl, but that term refers to a different item this context (the pauldrons that commanders, captains and ARC troopers wear), so I feel like it might be better to differentiate between them with different terms to avoid confusion. That’s just my opinion though, you feel free to do as you wish.

Rerebrace – bicep plate. Phase I has cutouts in the back to fit pointy elbows (see below); Phase II does not.

Couter – elbow plate. Pointy elbows in Phase I, unpointy elbows in Phase II, as shown on Figure 4. In Phase I appear to be attached to vambraces in the animated version, Phase II is more mobile. I admit, I’m not a huge fan of this word, I kinda prefer elbow plates.

Figure 4: Phase I and II elbows. Am I getting way too into this that it’s gotten to the point of studying clone elbows? *shrug* who knows.

Vambrace – forearm armour. Has wrist-mounted comlink (see below).

Gauntlet plate – covers back of hand. The 212th absolutely calls these “droid-punchers”, no you cannot convince me otherwise. I think I’ve seen fanon that some troopers sharpen the front edge of this plate to do more damage when punching. Decide for yourself if plastoid alloy would do more damage to the metal of a droid’s chassis if sharpened or unsharpened (and therefore sturdier).

Codpiece/crotch plate – covers the front hip and crotch area. Possible slang term, courtesy of @mockingjay34​: cockblock

Skidplate – covers butt and back hip. A lot of troopers probably just call this piece their shebs, and once again you cannot convince me otherwise. Note that in the clone wars cartoon, Phase I armour is triangular in the back and has a sort of erm… diaper shape, in that the codpiece and skidplate are connected in the crotch (I cannot imagine that being comfortable in any situation, but then again, I have Thicc™ Thighs. Do clones have thigh gaps? Also, I would not want to get pinched by the armour joint between crotch and thigh plates).

Figure 5: Sniper Butts! (Featuring Echo and Fives in quite possibly the only comfortable position in this armour.)

In Phase II the crotch and butt pieces are separated, which sounds a lot more sensible, as well as having better butt coverage – think cheeky panties vs full briefs.

Figure 6: Hardcase kindly demonstrating the new crotch plate alongside some significant gaps in his armour… please get yourself some bigger shoulder bells my dude!

I’d imagine that, given the amount of time these guys spend fully armoured, there should be some way of conveniently opening some of this up or removing individual plates for practical reasons (and if any particular trooper wanted to use this feature for… other things, well, that’s their own business).

Cuisse/Thigh plate – covers thighs. Phase I and II have different shapes in the back to account for skidplate shape, with Phase II having significantly less coverage in the upper thigh/butt area, but I guess better range of motion.

Figure 7: Troopers Hardcase and Dogma demonstrating the Butt Cutouts, or Buttouts.

Poleyn/knee plate/knee pad – important for maintaining kneecap integrity. Like elbow plates, appears to be integrated into greaves in Phase I, but moving freely in Phase II.

Greaves – cover shins, nothing fancy.

Boots – boots. Do not appear to be armoured, are soft enough to bend your toes for walking/kneeling/whatever you need bendy toes for.

Belt pouches/boxes/compartments – A place to keep your stuff when out & about. I’m assuming this is a Pocket Substitute. Clones deserve pockets too!

Comlink – Generally four large square buttons and one smaller one (live action has more buttons). They also have comlinks in their helmets. Wookieepedia mentioned that they used wrist comms in the show so that the audience could clearly see when characters were talking to each other. Possibly used for long-range communication, whereas the ones in the buckets could be for shorter range?

Life support/those box things on their back – I have no idea what they’re actually called but these also have different designs for Phase I and II. On stormtroopers they contain a power pack and a small oxygen supply, and I guess it’s reasonable to assume that they have the same life support function for clone troopers. Also read somewhere that they have comlink scanner for long-range communication?

Thermal detonator – why would they all have bombs on their back? Seems unsafe. Also I don’t think I’ve ever seen one used? Idk. These things confuse me.

[disastergay]

as a philosophy student, it irritates me how I have yet to see a TERF talking point that's grounded in reality and not just speculation or based in willful misunderstanding.

"if trans women aren't just men perpetuating misogynistic stereotypes about women, then why do they try so hard to conform to gender roles?? makeup and feminine clothes don't make you a woman"

maybe because it's safer to be a visibly gender-conforming woman? less than a century ago, there were laws in the U.S. that allowed the police to arrest women who wore "two or more masculine garments/accessories" (vice versa with men). those laws might be gone, but they left a nasty scar on our history.

"we should make it harder/impossible for everyone to transition because young girls are being brainwashed into irreversibly mutilating their bodies"

that... even if this scenario was realistic, that's not a viable solution at all? I agree that kids and teens who are questioning their gender shouldn't be rushed into transitioning, because I don't believe we should equate transness to transitioning. dysphoria is an extremely difficult cross to bear and should never be taken lightly, but anyone who says "the only way to EVER get rid of dysphoria for ALL trans people is through top/bottom surgery and HRT" is just wrong.

and those of y'all who are active proponents of abortion should know damn well that the only result restricting and/or banning gender affirming medical care will achieve is making the transition process more dangerous.

"testosterone can make people behave aggressively, and biological males on average have much more testosterone in their bodies than biological females. therefore, biological males are inherently more aggressive than biological females (and the latter group is not safe for them to be around)"

I love this argument because A) I can break it down into parts (basic premise #1, BP #2, and intermediate conclusion + major conclusion) and B) it overlaps cleanly with the topic of ableism.

so! aggression. it's a fairly fickle thing. depending on your personality and what specifically triggers your aggressive side, you may express aggression in many ways--physically, mentally, and/or emotionally towards other people, through an outlet you use to blow off steam, or maybe you turn all of that aggression inwards and use it to hurt yourself.

even if I was 100% sure that "biological males" are innately more aggressive than "biological females" (let's say due to testosterone for the sake of this context), I wouldn't agree with the main conclusion--that a "biological male" tendency to experience aggression means "biological females" are not safe around them.

why? because aggression does not necessarily beget violence of any kind.

to the vast majority of people, there's a slight difference between 'aggression' and 'aggressive behavior,' otherwise we wouldn't have coined terms (and still use those terms today!) to distinguish them from each other. (for example, if a radfem finds out a woman is trans, and that radfem suddenly feels the urge to punch said woman but doesn't act on it for whatever reason, that radfem is experiencing feelings of aggression BUT not actually exhibiting aggressive behavior.)

and now we've reached the question at the heart of this argument--if aggressive people learn to deal with their aggression in a healthy way, then can't they be safe to be around?

the answer is yes. the answer MUST be yes. because the minute society decides that the answer is no, any hope incarcerated prisoners and mentally ill/disabled people have of being treated like human beings gets squashed flat.

idk, I guess I'm just disappointed that trans exclusionary radical feminists base most of their arguments on pathos with little regard for ethics or logic.

and like. every single time I make a post like this TERFs just wanna call me names, tell me I'm delusional (as if that's new information), or nitpick my phrasing and then pretend they've completely dismantled all of my points. none of them are genuinely interested in learning about what it's like to be trans or WHY we think expanding beyond the western gender binary is more radical than forcing gender abolition on everyone.

TERFs think they already know everything there is to know about us, that there's nothing else left for them to learn from us, and that is their biggest mistake.

[citrineghost]

Struggling to stay organized because you have ADHD?

Well, I have a fantastic solution for you! There’s this bitchin site called Trello and I’m gonna tell you all about it

This is not sponsored, I just really like organization and Trello is awesome. And, as always, no readmore because this is targeted at ADHD people and y’all ain’t gonna click it

[ID: a picture of a website with many columns/lists. Behind the lists, there is a customized background. To the right is a sidebar showing that you can search Unsplash for backgrounds right from the site. Each column/list has a bunch of ‘cards’ on it. The cards each have a title and color coded label(s) /end ID)

Here’s a picture of my to-do board

There are some things blacked out, mostly just my avatar, name, and some original creative stuff I don’t feel like broadcasting.

So, Trello is broken up into different levels of organization. Let’s start with the most important level: boards.

Boards

A board is what’s pictured above. Think of it like a corkboard where you pin your notes. You can make as many of these as you want. You can title them, invite people to them, automate certain parts of them, and more.

On your board, you can make

Lists

Lists are those columns you can see on my board. You can title each list, click and drag them around to reorder them, set them to automatically label the things on them, and so on.

My lists on my to do board are titled with a time period for when I aim to do something. The time periods are large and vague, which makes them great for my ADHD. I can move things between them as I need, which is also great for my ever shifting brain thoughts. 

But! What makes it great is that whatever I put in the left list, titled Next, I know is what I need to be focusing on at the moment. It makes it easier to ignore what’s to the right of it and let’s me relax knowing I won’t just forget everything I’m not prioritizing.

Lists are used for holding

Cards

(ID: A picture of a small window that opens after clicking on a card. It contains the title, the labels (with their names now visible), and a functioning checklist. There is also a place to type a description, a place to add comments, and a list of buttons on the side for managing the card and its place on the board /end ID)

Each card can be as simple as containing just a title (making it a simple entry on your list), or as complicated as housing photos, descriptions, checklists, labels, and comments. You just click the card and it opens the window shown above.

My card is for a tabletop I’m working on, nicknamed TAP. I have it labeled with all of the things pertaining to what it involves (world building, writing, in progress, spreadsheeting, and art/creative). These color coded labels make it easy to see what kind of cards I’m looking at when looking at the overall board and lists.

As I do things on the checklist, I can mark them off. You can even set it to hide completed items on the checklist.

When I’m done with an item on my to do list, I click and drag the card to the Done list (which is offscreen on the far right). If you don’t want a visible Done list, you can also just archive a card and it will disappear from the board.

You can also set due dates on cards, which will notify you when they’re almost due or when the due date arrives.

Customization

One of my favorite things about Trello is that you can customize the appearance of your boards! My ADHD brain can’t stand looking at the same thing constantly, so it’s great that I can change things up. Each board can have its own design too, so you can match the vibes of the board with the appearance.

You can pick from a bunch of solid colors for your board or you can use the connection Trello has with Unsplash to search and select free stock images provided by photographers.

Other Parts of Organization

Not only do you have boards, lists, and cards, you can also make Workspaces, which are basically categories to sort your boards into. If you use Trello for projects, and have a board for each project, you can sort your boards into a Projects workspace.

There is also a function called Butler, which you can use to automate boards. For example, you can set it to automatically create a card called “Pay Rent” at the start of each month.

On the right, in the same sidebar where you can see the background options, there’s also an activity feed, tracking every time a card is moved, commented on, added, archived, and so on.

Team Work

Not only is Trello great for keeping private boards, you can also invite people to them! That makes it incredible for household management, group projects, or even friend groups who feel like storing plans and personalized memes. You can literally use it for whatever you want and in whatever way you want!

ADHD Applications

So, now let’s get down into the specifics of how this is great for people with ADHD.

You can make as many boards, lists, and cards as you want.

This is a big one for me, because I really struggle with websites that limit how much you can do with one account and force you to make multiples and then juggle multiple logins and so on. Start a new project? Make a new board. Follow your heart. Be free. If you end up giving up on it, just delete it, or store it for later. You can Star the boards you actively use and just use the Star list to access the boards you need, so if you star all your active ones and then ignore the unstarred, failed projects, you can leave them to rot or abandon them until the mood strikes again.

You can organize in a way that works for you.

So many organization applications are made to work one way and that can be really difficult to navigate as someone with ADHD. So many people with ADHD have such specific needs in regards to how they organize that it can be really hard to find something that works. Half the time we end up just scrambling around from application to application, cursing them as we go because one has one thing we like, but it doesn’t have the thing this other one has that we like and nothing ever seems to just work.

Trello makes it possible to personalize how you organize and even change how you organize halfway through. I keep my to do list organized in 4 priority levels with the addition of a Pin list and a Done list. You could also:

Keep a list that works as a calendar, with a card for each entry, organized in order of date

Keep a list of reminders where automated weekly/monthly/yearly responsibilities pop up

Jot down reminders as you think of them

Keep lists of school assignments in the order they’re due

Use descriptions and photo uploads on cards to collect information or resources needed for said assignments

Keep lists of information that’s easy to forget or lose track of on paper like address history, work history, references, contact information, and so on (like I’ve done on my ‘Pin’ list)

Use boards for projects, to keep track of things like resources, due dates, meeting times, sending files between classmates or project partners, and so on

Use boards for planning events like weddings, parties, conferences, school dances, or whatever else you’re into

Collect resources, references, or recreational to-dos (like links to fanfiction you want to read)

Literally anything

You can separate everything onto different boards, making everything visible from the titles of cards, or combine it all into one, with lots of information available on a click

The sky’s the limit

You can automate repeat tasks.

ADHD comes with a lot of forgetfulness when it comes to regular tasks, such as weekly appointments, medication reminders, and a yearly charge for your Nintendo membership. You can put that stuff into your calendar, but that can also be tricky because then you have information spread across multiple platforms.

Just as easily, you can set Butler to make new cards with reminders on them.

There’s probably more but I have ADHD and I forgot

Just think of the possibilities!!

I used to get debilitatingly stressed out because I would have 10 things floating around in my head because I was simultaneously trying not to forget them and also stressing about them and I would make what I call “spaghetti lists” where I would list all the things I’m thinking of, just as a way to calm down and know that I won’t forget them, so that my brain could quiet down.

Since starting this board, I haven’t had to do that once because all of the things I’m afraid of forgetting are already listed, even if they’re on the list titled ‘ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ‘ because idk if they’re ever actually gonna happen.

It can be incredibly stressful to see all of your to do items in one place, but since starting this, I have been less stressed overall, because I now know I can find them all in that one place. Learning to manage and cope with the stress of knowing I have a lot to do is easier than forgetting things and then realizing I’m late on something or things just never happening because I never remember them when I’m in a place where I can work on them.

And when you have everything in one place to reference when you have some executive energy, you can suddenly just start doing things. I have them labeled by type so I can go, “I’m in the mood to draw,” and then check all the dark blue labels for creative projects. It makes everything so much easier.

Anyway, I hope this is helpful to some of you, it’s genuinely been life changing for me

[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.

[hillbillyoracle]

Note: I am afab, trans, genderfluid, visibly GNC no matter what, with what could be argued to be intersex hormones. That’s the experience that informs this vent. 

--

One thing I really can’t stand about the “people who mention agab are the worst” discourse is that it’s used as a cover some pretty shitty stuff. 

Being trans doesn’t make you magically enlightened with regard to gender inequity. You have to unlearn shit you were taught like anyone else. The difference is your relationship to it, not whether you learned it. 

I have gotten the trans equivalent to pearl clutching when I’ve expressed my frustration with amab folks in my life for not sharing equitably in housework, emotional labor, or organizing work. I don’t know what to tell you. It breaks down along those lines. 

People have normalized shitting on cis men for the same behaviors I have trans women and amab nonbinary friends doing all the time. But if you point out there might be a gendered element there - you’re transphobic. 

I don’t consider myself exempt. There’s plenty that afab people learn about gender and relationships that has to get unlearned too and I continue to work at it everyday. I have found that the cost/burden doesn’t seem to be quite the same. 

This is in no way saying that that kind of inequity should take precedent over other issues facing trans folks. I am trans. I am well and personally acquainted with the violence that can come with it. 

This is also not saying that trans men don’t have to figure out how to navigate toxic masculinity well. That’s it’s own issue. 

I’m tired of “don’t use AGABs ever” meaning we reproduce the same toxic dynamics in our community only with more cover from being called out. Especially when the folks who get slammed by it the most are often those who’ve had less access to money and social leverage for the basically their whole lives. 

I just don’t get why “the violence against amab trans folks is heineous and needs to stop” and “amab trans folks need to make sure they’re stepping up in the home and relationships too” can’t both be true at the same time? They don’t invalidate each other. Idk. 

ETA: Reflecting on it, it’s just another result of the “progressive” line moving further and further away from material analysis. To me, if talking about material realities invalidates your gender, that’s your internalized transphobia, not an issue with materialist analysis itself. 

Because material analysis backs up transness; there is a long historical record of trans people in various cultures all over the world. 

But material analysis also means looking at who is having to do more labor, who is being treated unfairly in concrete terms in the community as well as out.