#i say as if i had fatal frame 3 on hold

[dorkousloris]

mans mouthwashing is so tempting!!! AH!!!!

i need to beat signalis first................. then mouthwashing.....

[aspiringsophrosyne]

What’s this season’s theme? They weren’t subtle about it. When the group asks her about Dohla, Allura almost literally turns to the camera and says: “Let’s just say being in dangerous situations with someone you’re close to can lead to friction.”

The show’s CRew drew considerable attention to this idea through Kima and Allura’s old friend, flashbacks to their adventuring days, Zerxus’ telling of the fall of Avalir, Scanlan’s failure to be fully present for either his daughter or Vox Machina, and the group splintering. On paper, this idea is fine, but in practice, its implementation is flawed.

Because what comes of all this setup? Scanlan steps away for Kaylie; what are the repercussions of that? While Keyleth and the twins break off from the rest, are they gone long? Does this season have a capstone with a potency similar to Bard’s Lament?

(For the record, I am neutral on having Bard’s Lament in Season 3, but excluding that eliminates one hefty bit of dramatic payoff. )

What’s interesting in hindsight is the unintentional, surprisingly substantial, and consistent theme that emerges. One that isn’t the Breaking of the Fellowship.

The twins exact their revenge on Thordak. Keyleth gets revenge on Raishan after Raishan gets hers on first the Ashari, then Thordak when he doesn’t provide her with her cure. Last season, Kaylie sought revenge but rejected it in the end, and now the Shorthalts are uncertain of where they stand. Percy wants to abandon vengeance, but Ripley forces his hand. After her fatal confrontation with Percy, the twins avenge him.

Noticing a pattern?

The script tells us this season’s heart is internal strife, but the action repeatedly shows us a revenge tale. With a strong through-line, marked thematic consistency, and multiple clear payoffs. Ironically, these elements develop organically, akin to mushrooms in the dark, shielded from the narrative heavy-handedness the spotlight would impose upon them.

With only a few tweaks, they could’ve had this plot laced up tighter than a 19th-century corset. Let the twins learn the identity of their mother’s murderer earlier, and let them get the last strikes on him. Give us the group HDYWTDT on Ripley. Let the anger Keyleth feels at Raishan initially block her from passing her earth trial—setting her up as a parallel to Percy; they both let go and walk out of this season alive—and you’ve cooked a full-course meal.

Instead of a retread, frame this story as an extension and escalation of the Briarwood arc—which established how self-destructive the old eye-for-an-eye can be—but this time for the villains: Thordak must be thwarted, and Ripley’s and Raishan’s respective revenge quests draw Vox Machina’s ire and ensure their downfall.

Because sometimes, one person’s vengeance is another person’s karma.

And if desired, you could build upon this idea even further in future seasons when the enemies waiting in the wings move to center stage. Some of them might be interested in payback.

The fact this secondary focus emerges so well and so naturally proves that this show's material is good enough that it doesn’t need bells and whistles or excessive exposition to establish and justify itself. Less-to-no spoon-feeding, keeping and bolstering what was great about the source material, and leaning into this revenge theme would’ve given us not just a much sounder narrative thread this season but a subtler and uncontrived one. And it wouldn’t have needed any extra time. It might’ve needed less if Ripley wasn't around as long.

This season didn't need an underdeveloped central theme that couldn't hold together for lack of payoff shoe-horned into it. It's a worse version of a problem season 2 had, where the idea of VM learning to not run from their problems made little sense in context and didn't really go anywhere for anyone except Scanlan.

All in all, it might be better to prioritize capturing what was great about the source material before adding to the story. Otherwise, you run the risk of throwing something in the stew that clashes with its other ingredients, and there'll be significant potential and several opportunities that could end up going to waste.

[osmos-iv]

Murder Drones Theories/Observations !!!

I'm sure any Murder Drones fans(myself included) are excited for the final episodes to be released soon! But, I've made some observations from the currently existing episodes that I'm not sure if anyone has brought up yet. Here are my points!

(Brace yourself, this may get lengthy)

Let's get into the longer stuff first. In episode 5, we are taken into N's memories and see what life was like for them while they worked for Tessa's rich family. I think it's worth noting that the disassembly drones that we know in the present time have yellow eyes. However, in these past memories, they have white eyes.

Pay attention to the glow of the eyes, since it can get difficult to tell sometimes. Even if the yellow appears white sometimes, you can see the blurred yellow glow if you look closely. Here's a better comparison with past CYN and N:

Maybe they(N, J, and V) haven't become disassembly drones yet? Honestly I don't think we even know what a disassembly drone is. Actually wait, N actually says exactly that: "Aren't you worried we have no idea what we even are?!" (from episode 3, time 4:22)

On the subject of eyes, I see people commonly confusing some colours with others. Doll has orange eyes, and Alice's eye colour sits somewhere in between Doll's colour and the disassembly drone colour.

Idk it's like a copper?? Or they're the same and Doll's eyes are just dimmer than Alice's. The point is, they don't have yellow eyes. I'm mentioning this because the only drones we've seen associated with the colour yellow are the disassembly drones. Moving on!

At the end of episode 1, the last shot we see is this:

You can probably see that this resembles the symbol of the absolute solver. Of course, I don't know what these devices are - satellites, cannons, or even landing pods or whatever - but this makes me think that the solver originates from off the planet and operates remotely. Additionally, it's been said that the Absolute Solver "took CYN as a host". So CYN and the Solver are not the same; they are separate entities. Or at least, they were. (We don't see CYN acting as a normal drone at any point, only as taken over by Solver.)

+ Other small details I noticed!

1- The lace headpiece that J, V, and CYN wear in episode 5 all have eyeball patterns on them. (resembling the Solver's signature tubular eye cameras)

2- The binary code around the window says "01101110 1110101 1101100 1101100". Using a conversion site translates it to "null"

3- The Copper system appears to be the furthest from Earth(based on what is shown), and at least 2 colonized planets excluding Copper 9 have been taken over by Solver. Earth has also been taken over/destroyed by the Solver.

(the distance shown is not accurate to distance between planets, these are merely how I put the separate frames next to each other)

4- V is a zombie drone? Her eye screen displayed a 'Fatal Error' message earlier in episode 5 like other drones in the library, after which she ends up sporting the same wings and crazed state that Uzi had in episode 4.

Adding onto this, while she is in her zombie mode her lights are yellow. After Uzi hacks into the Solver's body and lets go of V, her eyes are back to white and her behaviour is normal. - This is visible from a little before 18:00 mins. into episode 5 and the seconds that follow.

5- Tessa and CYN have the same hairstyle.

I don't personally think this holds deeper meaning, since it's said that Tessa gives her favourite drones their hair. Oh I just noticed, CYN has the bow too!

6- The doll that CYN disassembles.

I don't understand why this was shown in great focus in episode 5. The only thing I can possibly think of is that it implies that the Solver can take control of biological beings, like humans? I'm not really convinced on this, but this and my previous observation about CYN and Tessa could add on to the theory that's been going around that Tessa is being controlled by the Solver. Maybe if we saw present Tessa with her helmet off we could se what colour her eyes are?

lol jk I know the humans being silhouettes is a stylistic choice.

And that's the end! Feel free to correct me or add on to anything I've theorized about here.

Thanks for reading!

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 223 Trivia (Part 1)

The final chapter of 2021! This time last year, Senku and the others were crossing the Andes and Suika almost died falling into a canyon.

How time flies!

(...Unlike Suika.)

The astronauts are training underwater to simulate space's weightlessness. You'll notice they have frames around them. This is to ensure neutral buoyancy: they'll neither float to the surface nor sink to the bottom.

This is harder than it sounds, with a quarter of astronauts returning with injuries to their hands and their shoulders especially due to pressure against the rigid space suit. Because of Earth's gravity, doing the underwater tasks can actually be harder than doing them in space.

I think they gave up on giving us accurate calendars after the "10 year time skip" situation in chapter 215…

This tube is to prevent contaminating the astronauts so they don't bring anything to the moon. It's more important for missions to extraterrestrial bodies than, say, missions to the ISS since the ISS is already contaminated by people and it's fairly self-contained.

These space suits look more similar to atmospheric diving suits, especially JIM suits, than the softer-looking space suits we're used to. This might be because they lack the ideal materials, or possibly to avoid the problem of decompression sickness:

Hard-shell suits can withstand more pressure, so there's no need to adjust to the lower-pressure limits of the soft suits moving to/from the rocket. The other advantage to these suits is that there's no counter-force: the astronauts don't have to exert force to hold a position.

The suits are probably inspired by the RX series by Litton Industries, in particular the RX-2 (which had aluminum joints) and the RX-3, both from the 1960s.

Other space suits can be found here.

The udder-like valves at the front of the suit are for the various hose connections needed, such as breathable air and water cooling. You may notice that they're at similar positions to Stanley's revival outfit (probably a coincidence).

You're probably laughing at how awkwardly everyone's standing, and that's because the suits don't have a full range of movement. To make working with their hands easier, the suits are biased towards the front.

Shoulders are really complicated joints!

Remember last week when I said the gloves need to be fitted well so the wearers can use their hands properly?

I'm not even sure anyone can form a fist, let alone shoot a gun.

There's no visual difference between the suits, so once everyone has their helmets on it might be hard to tell who's who.

Unless the black and white manga is preventing us from seeing that they're bright red, blue, and green or something.

The transition from Stanley and Xeno being an inseparable pair, chasing their other half around the world, to Stanley admitting that "it ain't just the two of us anymore" really shows character development.

Xeno following it up with "we" makes me feel something though… 🥺

Xeno gives Stanley a pack of chewing tobacco because he can't smoke in space, but chewing tobacco needs to be spat out afterwards unless Stan intends to eat the cigarette, paper and all.

I really hope we see Stanley use one because I don't know how they're meant to work.

As of March 2021, in-flight accidents have killed 15 astronauts and 4 cosmonauts, making the fatality rate 3.2%. However, if you include the Apollo 1 launch pad fire that happened on the ground, this brings the total to 22/439 astronaut fatalities, which is the 5% Senku mentions.

(Next part)

[suuho]

ok i finally got to watch the finale of the worst of evil and i'm feeling....... conflicted?? i loved how dramatic it was but,,,, it didn't satisfy me all the way??? maybe i just need to sleep so my brain will start working again lol but idk idk idk. anyway,, what did you think about it? i'm always very very much interested in your opinion about media! <3

how insane was that finale. like, i genuinely cannot believe i perceived all of that today, like... what do you mean. what do you mean there won't be a new episode next week??? no more unhinged shenanigans on my television??? unacceptable. can't even begin to comprehend that. this is excessively long, so under the cut.

now, for my opinion on it... in general, i am actually satisfied. from the beginning, a few things were obvious and they followed through. considering gicheol's role in the show, as a literal drug trafficker, i expected him to die, and i was not surprised when or that he died; the moment he uttered that he wanted a normal life and leave the union, the writing was more than just on the wall. i was more surprised by how they handled that, because in a way i could have expected it but on the other hand, all the events leading up to gicheol's death were, just. fucking insane. especially if you look at junmo's and gicheol's relationship, which at the end of the day was the focal point of the show, just as much as the character of junmo. the scene in the car at the harbor was so loaded and i feel like in a way it was obvious but it still caught me off guard. by the time gicheol sat in the car and the entirety of gangnam union was busted without him? because junmo gave him an out, forced him into an out by literally handcuffing him to his car. (the fact that gicheol offered to drive for once? oh, mhm.) gave him needlessly cruel words to make sure gicheol wouldn't even think of following him out, wouldn't even try, because he had to be betrayed by junmo, one way or another. and junmo bound half of it to gicheol's future. he gave him the way to the normal life gicheol wanted, but gicheol couldn't take that out. his fatal flaw was the fact that he loves too much, and he knows that, too. he tells euijeong and junmo that, when he goes to confront them. and, god. that scene? of gicheol at their table, holding the wedding portrait? of the two people he loves the most? his first love and the man he gave his life to? that gave his life for him? insane.

i gotta say, i have almost no complaints in regards to junmo/gicheol. this show is a noir thriller/crime drama, not a bl or anything akin to it, and i think all things considered we got so much more than i would have imagined possible. this show got away with almost as much as, like. the devil judge. it was actually quite obvious and brazen in many ways, and only flimsily held together by the "junmo is married to euijeong and gicheol loves euijeong" framing, which i think was intentional, at points. the director also mentioned that half of the drama was basically written by ji changwook, so. thanks, king.

gicheol always had to die, but the fact that junmo spared him the sin of killing himself? that is fucking insane, if you ask me. hand in unlovable hand, in-fucking-deed. jcw's reaction (and acting) during that phone call was stunning. i think, it took gicheol to die for junmo to realize that he also has someone in his heart that he needs to protect. hence: leaving his wedding ring at gicheol's grave (next to euijeong's necklace; also signaling the end of his marriage for good while giving gicheol something of the woman they both loved), keeping the watch and wearing it while he gets his promotion. he was wearing it after he left the union, the entire time. insane-making!

there is another, more obvious queer reading i could be doing here, how gicheol always had to die because he was the most gay coded character, yes, including all the catholic guilt, and how junmo entering the union and meeting gicheol sort of signaled a shift in his relationship and everything surrounding it, as well. and how leaving the wedding ring signifies the fact that junmo knows he has changed, and that he accepts that. people reminded him constantly that he is a cop and he shouldn't forget it; junmo is a cop who wears that uniform like a costume at the end. anyways, lots more but i don't have the time for that.

i'm somewhat ambivalent on how they treated euijeong in the finale, i loved her character throughout the show, but she got the short end of the stick (also, as expected unfortunately). she is the other side of the coin and would have never been able to accept junmo's descent into violence and evil (and she did not, after all that is what their huge fight is all about), and ultimately won't forgive him for killing gicheol. on the other hand, she would have never given gicheol the love he wanted, or reciprocated his love the way she should have (in his eyes). she always loved junmo, she just could never love the man he became. we (the audience) knew that in the same moment she did, during the altercation with the chinese in episode 8 and 9. besides dohyung, she was the one character to keep junmo steady, and i kind of hate how that is, for the most part, all that she was reduced too; i would have loved to see more of her work as an actual police officer, and not just as a chess piece in this investigation. after all, she is ranked higher than her husband and it was introduced as one of the first conflicts in this show, but was only fuel for junmo taking the job. sigh. anyways.

i loved bibi in the show, and loved most of what haeryeon went through, i mean, besides the almost out of character infatuation with junmo. but, some things are there to drive a plot and serve a narrative purpose, and that was one of those major things. happy she got out of it alive, that she killed that fucking cop that has pissed me off since his appearance, and her scene after killing hwang mingoo, with her bodyguard or right hand man or whatever, was very touching and well done. served as a very nice mirror to the gicheol/junmo relationship. in this world, trust is devotion is love.

it is safe to say that junmo loved gicheol, btw. lol. makes me feel insane to even think about, and i genuinely feel like killing gicheol was the only way to get away with it. having junmo kill gicheol as a last act of love, because in their world love is violence? man. the implications are crazy!

i have manifested that meeting of dohyung and jongryeol since, like, episode 3 because they are the only two characters that are equal to each other. slayer one and slayer two. dohyung's death made me cry, but made narratively sense, because it added to junmo's desolation at the end (how they lied to him, brother, i crieddddd), fueled his disillusion with the police force (he was NOT happy at that promotion celebration), and put chief seo behind bars. glad he survived, by the way. a king that remains an absolute king until the end.

that said, some things were not as well done as i wish they could have been. the fade-outs in the final episode were a cheap choice to make a lot of headway plotwise in very litte time, and i think it could have been done tighter, and more graceful. in some ways, it rang a little hollow; as did the whole jungbae thing, and the hwang mingoo side plot. like, i understand that, in a way, it was to show that the noose has tightened and i absolutely appreciate the fact that this was all just to isolate junmo and gicheol and get them to spend their last days together (narratively), but... still. i would have preferred a little more sophistication, if i'm being honest. this drama could have used a full sixteen episode treatment, even at the breakneck speed it went along. especially because of that, maybe. noir doesn't only live off action but also off the thrill and the suspension of the genre, and at the end it felt a little rushed and somewhat cheap. the scene that lead to gicheol's death made up for it, though, because that was super solid.

i can't believe junmo never said why he let gicheol go. god. because he loved him! if he loved him less maybe he could talk about it more! with junmo words do not equal actions. he uses his words as his last line of defense, as a sort of smoke and mirrors kinda thing, but his actions speak differently. the things he does—like letting gicheol go, or crashing a fucking car to save him from getting arrested, or killing a hundred men for gicheol and euijeong—weigh more than the things he says, or tells himself. love that, because he was introduced as being all brawns, and works as an antithesis to gicheol and euijeong that way!

mhmmm, anything else to say? man, i still feel crazy. there is actually so fucking much to say. i can't believe we got that last shot of them walking down the street in slow motion, smiling at each other, smoking—a sign of respect and reverence connected to the reoccurring motif of junmo and gicheol lighting each other's cigarettes, + gicheol only ever lighting junmo's cigarette—and i think it was only earned due to the whole grave scene. we had to see junmo give up his marriage or else it would have had not the same impact. it was obvious, in a way, that euijeong and junmo could have never stayed together but i am still surprised they went through with that, considering kdramas in general.

other than that... idk. maybe i have more to add. all in all, i am satisfied. not necessarily happy, but i like what this drama did and while i am not super satisfied with the pacing of the big beats in the last episode, i can overall appreciate. i love the relationships they crafted in this show, and i am actually for once satisfied with how they dealt with the focal relationship. felt very much like it was love. well done.

[hay1ock]

Okay. Wow. Episode 3 of Only Friends was just something else.

Yep. I’m late again, but honestly, I enjoy rewatching it a time (or two) for anything I might have missed or that might change my mind about certain scenes or characters.

This week we’ll start with the mess that is Nick and Boston. It was interesting watching their string of encounters. Is it just me that felt they got slower, kind of more romantic as they went on? Like the slow kisses. I like kissing, might have partaken in the odd snog in a club back in my prime lol. But to be doing it over and over, day after day, soft and slower, and more attentive. It just felt more intimate, easy to mistake the feelings behind it. I hate the way he manipulates Nick. Sees him questioning the relationship so gives him some crumbs to keep him happy, and give him hope when there really doesn’t seem to be any.

Yeah, Boston is the absolute worst. But can’t deny he’s entertaining. I love the messy web he’s weaving. Well, mostly. When he started poking at my baby Ray then there was some aggressive side-eyeing on my part lol. I really don’t know what else to say, other than to applaud the work he’s putting in for Top. I still can’t decide if he has real feelings for him as he hesitated when Nick asked, but it seems to do with his pride/rivalry at the fact Top is seemingly so desperately pursuing Mew when Boston is throwing himself at him and had been getting turned down. Will be interesting to see if Boston had any plan for what he was actually hoping to achieve beyond one more fuck. Has he won? Does he still want more? Also, bit cruel recording your friends…making out? Getting handsy? Until proven otherwise (unless it went so terribly that Mew wanted to delete it from his mind) I believe Mew is a virgin. And it makes me laugh that the one who was telling Top Mew was all sweet and innocent in the first place was Boston. Has anyone else ever said that? I mean Mew was happy to have Top in his room, kiss, get on the counter. It was just when the possibility of full sex got too real that he put a stop to things, and the fact he would prefer to get to know someone first before going all in.

But yeah. Boston you are a terrible friend. Recording it and then holding on to it. Though to be fair I have everything ever still on my phone what with the storage size these days, it’s just a dick move he recorded it in the first place.

Nick. Okay, so I was in the protect Nick from Boston and himself and his feelings frame of mind last week. I said he wasn’t gonna be getting employee of the month snooping in customer phones, but seems he took his snooping up a notch and I’m considering switching over to Team Protect Boston. I didn’t actually pay much attention to the Chekhov’s wiretap on my first watch, I thought about how there’d be cameras installed and figured something would get caught on there eventually, but hadn’t thought Nick would go so far as to directly bug Boston’s car. I did feel sorry for him at the end. I don’t know if this is his first ‘relationship’ or what but he’s certainly all in. I wonder how far he’ll go if he is planning revenge. Like are we talking Fatal Attraction lengths? Boston doesn’t have a rabbit right? Lol

So Ray and Sand. Feel for Sand as he’s clearly trying to keep boundaries in his relationship with Ray. But eyes don’t lie and, man, the way he looks at him. Though disappointed at the end of the episode, there was probably also some relief as he could step back from the line he’d been dangerously walking. I wonder how bad his money struggles are as is he getting to eat for free at YOLO? Anyway, I wish him luck in his efforts to separate love and sex.

And Ray. His little face and his dumb flirty ass. I don’t think he’s doing anything on purpose as such or playing with Sand’s heart or anything (not like a certain Boston we know) as just in general it seems like the kind of person he is. He did seem genuine when he checked Sand was okay with it all because he wants to keep hanging out and being friends. I do think he’s pursuing him in the sense of a distraction, especially right after Boston whispered in his ear and Top dragged away Mew. Talking of Top, honestly, I don’t know how much is jealousy, worry for Mew, and how much is just a case of him just disliking that man. You ever just had someone, and they might not have even done anything wrong, but their very existence just irks you for some reason? That’s the vibes I get from Ray toward Top. The way Ray changes and folds his arms when he popped up ruining his bright mood when hanging with Mew.

But back to him and Sand. The entangling in the car was definitely to distract himself from his shitty feelings from that night, managing to convince himself and Sand that they could keep the boundaries even if they slept together a second time. And then the call. The way he sat up and rearranged his clothes as if he didn’t want Mew seeing him like that. Like he was almost ashamed. Seen a few differing opinions on what happened, but, despite Sand’s fleeting disappointment (then probably relief at dodging a bullet to the heart for at least one more day), I am team bros before hos, sisters before misters etc. Mew was locked out, bit tipsy and personally, I appreciate Ray being a good friend. Whether he also enjoyed getting to play hero, who knows, but I viewed it as him answering the call of a friend who needed his help.

So Mew. Actually, enjoyed seeing him and Ray interact a bit more. I personally, again until proved otherwise, believe he cares for him. In episode 1 he said how the hostel could be something for Ray’s future, a business of his own, then the scene by the pool in episode 2, and here, it seems like he genuinely wants Ray to move on and be happy with someone who has the potential to love him back as something other than a friend. I’m interested to see what actually happened the night Boston filmed them and guessing we’ll see at least some of it based on the preview. Mew’s scenes with Top give me mixed feelings. They were very sweet at the silent disco, and then we were back to Top being all ownery over him (granted fuelled by Boston). Top had referred to him as boyfriend a couple of times this ep so I’m trying to figure if we’ve skipped to them being boyfriends now as think Boston said they’d been together less than 3 months, plus we figure time has passed from the multiple BostonNick scenes. Ponders.

And lastly Top. Well, he knows Sand and boy Sand doesn’t like him lol. Guess we’ll see why eventually. I’m still trying to figure Top out. I know we don’t have much on Mew but Top is just a bit contradictory to me I guess. Is he insecure? Is it because he’s only been seen as this top tier prize to get fucked by? And Mew seems to be the only one, or the only one in a long time to not care about that? His actions are… I mean Mew knows he’s slept with others so why not be honest about that Beam guy? I mean the dude pretty much spelled it all out and Mew was right there lol.

Also, I know Boston was manipulating him but to say I was disappointed in his lack of willpower is an understatement. I have no idea what’s on the video, Mew and his friends have mentioned him being a virgin when it was just them and for nobody else’s benefit, so I believe he is one. Boston was the one that added the sweet and innocent part. But still, if you want to get to the bottom of things, I feel confronting/talking to Mew would have been a slightly better option than banging Boston. I get Top actually looked upset and people do dumb stuff without thinking if through but… Top, why? Even if you aren’t officially boyfriends, YOU keep calling him your boyfriend. Sighs. Can’t wait to see how this all plays out now there’s a recording of them.

Anyway, not long before today’s episode, so will stop here. Really am loving this show.

[vaguewrites]

kobe is so cute! I love his design, can you tell us more about him? :3

Thank you so much! I do enjoy designing goth/punk boys, they're my guilty pleasure.

Okay, so here are some headcanons I have for him

Calls Chai "tiger" as an affectionate nickname.

Is a huge fan of animated movies, particularly if they're about fairy tale retellings or about fairies and goblins and all that shit. He's also a massive horror fan, would definitely play the entire Silent Hill and Fatal Frame series and mostly loves the monster and ghost designs.

He always speaks in a flat voice and so many people find him really boring to talk to. So he'll start talking and others zone out or just walk away. He got bullied for it in school, so he now trails off mid-sentence because he knows that no one wants to listen to him. Chai surprised him by showing an interest in what he was talking about (the soundtrack for a movie he had seen recently) and encouraging him to keep going.

Kobe struggles with empathy. It's a part of his autism, he's not cold or unfeeling towards others, he just struggles to put himself in their shoes or understand how they're feeling. If someone tells him outright they're sad, he'll try to cheer them up with their favourite thing, like a meal or a movie to watch. If they don't tell him anything, then he can't help because he doesn't know what's wrong. If they tell him they're fine, he's gonna assume they're fine. He's bad at reading expressions and body language.

Clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth when he's thinking or struggling to find the right words to say.

Also taps his fingers against desks or tables, spins in his desk chair or rubs at his arms as a form of stimming.

He loves reading and has an impressive collection of books. He genuinely likes cheesy paranormal romances, and if there's a passage in the book he thinks is really funny or really stupid he's gonna read it out to his friends. He also likes comic books, graphic novels and manga. He himself enjoys doodling but he's not a great artist.

Loves physical affection and will gladly hug his friends or hold their hands if they need it. He also has a habit of clinging onto someone when he's laughing too hard, like nearly falling over and needing to hold them for support. Very rarely is he ever in a mood where he doesn't want to be touched.

He's a couple inches taller than Chai, but also slouches a lot so they look nearly the same height.

He loves spicy food but isn't that fond of sweets. If someone gifts him chocolate or anything sugary, he's gonna give it to Chai. The only chocolate he likes is really dark, bitter chocolate. He also doesn't like pasta that much because the texture is really off-putting to him.

Is the little spoon when he sleeps in Chai's bed. Chai wraps himself around Kobe like an octopus.

That's all I can think of at the moment :)

[angrybatgaming]

Adding Fatal Frame: Maiden of Black Water to my games to play list because THIS SERIES IS SO ADDICTING!!!!

I highly recommend the Fatal Frame series to any horror fans out there (though you may have a hard time finding the first 2 or 3 games as they were only on PS2/Xbox). Horror from any foreign country just comes off scarier/creepier to me than American stuff. (Unless Native American, which I've yet to hear more about other than the two overly popular ones that I will not mention on this blog.)

You can find a lot of stuff in these games that is very likely based on actual folklore and legends, and the ghost designs from the first game are from what people who could supposedly see ghosts described them as. Plus it's really fun for Halloween parties, and/or sleepovers (from back in middle to high school). Maiden of Black Water has the 8 Foot Tall Woman in it, which I've yet to encounter. And the third game includes the old woman pushing around the baby carriage that you should NEVER look inside of. Plus I think it was my first horror series to play ever, so it holds a special place in my heart. Eagerly waiting for the fourth game's official release. (You originally had to download it, possibly with a European or some other country Wii system, along with a patch to make it playable at all. And I think I heard it was STILL broken.)

Also I SWEAR the older games heard you if you said "I'mma go save my game real quick" because then you'd instantly run into your least favorite ghost who will, SOMETIMES, overpower/corner you and kill you. At least from my experience, and my dad's experience. One time, I made the mistake of saying to myself, out loud, that I was gonna save while playing the second game. So I yelled "OKAY, GAME. I SAID IT. DO YOUR WORST." Fortunately for me, the worst ghosts only popped up in specific areas or situations, so it sent the three angry villager ghosts after me the second I said that.

Why does this guy give me Masato/Ryo Aoki vibes?

Sorry for a poorer quality shot, or the lack of ghost shots. I'm playing on my sibling's switch, so I can't really upload any unless I get their permission. And, even then, I don't need Facebook accusing me of hacking my own account again...

[whoreforhorror]

hello good morning/night :)

I really love your writing it's the best thing I've ever read :* if it's not too much trouble could you write for Bo Sinclair, Rusty Nail, Asa Emory, Otis Driftwood with dating a s/o who is a femme fatale?

Thank you very much for your time :) <3

Sorry this took so long to get to! My schedule is kicking my ass lol. Also, the best thing you’ve ever read?! Woah! Thanks for the huge complement! Hope you like this!

(Also, this hasn’t been checked for grammar or spelling so sorry for any mistakes. I’m finishing this up right after I got off from work)

Bo Sinclair, Rusty Nail, Asa Emory, and Otis Driftwood with a femme fatale S/O

Bo Sinclair:

Bo. Is. Obsessed. 

He’d been having you hide away in the house while tourists were in town, despite your protest. He didn’t want you to get hurt, and tourists were hard to predict if you hadn’t been doing this for a long time. Plus, he didn’t want to scare you off with the brutality of it all, but he’d rather tuck you away than tone it down.

A victim had gotten past Bo and ran upstairs to you and Bo’s room, where you had camped out for the day. The guy had a wild look in his eyes, and was absolutely feral. He didn’t even consider that you could have been a victim before he started charging at you, pocket knife in hand. You sidestepped, grabbing a picture frame and smashing it across his face. He charged at you again, unarmed hand holding his eye where a piece of glass cut him, causing you to kick him in the chest and send him toppling over the bed. Taking the knife while he was disoriented, you stabbed him in the middle of his throat, throwing him to the ground face-first and stomping on his head, sending the knife all the way through his throat and out the other side.

You were panting by the end of the ordeal, processing the sudden adrenaline spike as you stood over the victim. Vincent was going to have a bit more of a challenge with this one. A laugh drew your attention back to the doorway to the hall were Bo was leaning on the frame. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you after that. Safe to say he was positively elated to see just how capable you were, and you bet he intends on showing you just how your little show makes him feel.

From now on, you’re joining him in the shop while he works. He’ll let you bait in victims and take care of a few of them yourself. He loves teaming up with you to toy with victims before one of you puts them out of their misery. He’s also going to teach you about cars, if you’ll let him. He probably already was, but now that you can be there more often, there’s plenty of time to learn. It would make him beyond happy to have you working on cars with him, side by side.

If there’s any gun you don’t know how to shoot, he’s going to teach you. It’s a requirement. One day, he’ll get you a gun or a knife, whichever you prefer, and gift it to you. Might even get something engraved on it that’ll remind you of him. Maybe his name or something that he calls you. You better appreciate it, because it’s the closest thing to a wedding band you’re going to get without it seriously being a wedding band. 

Rusty Nail:

You’d been along for a delivery with Rusty when things went south.  A group of people had been messing with him over the CB, and Rusty had new victims in sight. He hadn’t meant to get you involved but here you both were.

One of the victims attacked you while Rusty was busy, and you were more than happy to take care of them. You took a length of chain that was laying nearby, whipping them with it several times before closing in and wrapping it around their throat, stinging them up over a pipe and watching them struggle for breath.

Rusty had heard the struggle, and looked over as he finished with his victim. Safe to say he was caught off guard by how brutally you dealt with them. He knew you weren’t soft in any regard, but this?

To see you there, watching as they died slowly, was so hot interesting. He’d had his reservations about you fully joining him in his escapades, but all of those washed away as you turned back to look at him with a smile, asking if he was alright. 

You’re officially his ride-along babe. Every drive you can go on, you’re joining him. 

He already likes the idea of having you with him, but having you with him AND helping him with his victims?! Sign him up!

He’ll push a few victims your way and watch how you take care of them, possibly setting up the scene if he hopes to see you do something in particular. Be cautious though, because eventually he’ll try to push you past your limits. You have to either hold firm on your boundaries or become a whole lot less caring about almost everything. 

It’s also a major turn-on of his to see you work. Once all is taken care of, you can imagine where things will lead.

Asa Emory:

You had been one of his victims, at first. He was takin with your intelligence and ability to find work-arounds to his various traps. Inevitably, you slipped up and he took you to the hotel, but not after a long, drawn out struggle.

True to your character thus far, you’d proven difficult to contain in your room and even more difficult to keep track of. Several times, you almost escaped, and one time you did. Not for long, but you’d made your impression regardless. You were his favorite, no matter how disobedient. Soon after your arrival, his attention was solely on you.

He started experimenting with your reaction to different traps and things of the sort. If you ever get badly injured, he’ll let up a bit, but you’re in for quite a ride. If you want to stop with the traps, you’re really going to have to push your case, and it will probably end up in an argument. At this point, however, he cares about you too much to put you back in the box.

You’ll be helping him with future victims, and those who escape their rooms. You’re like his personal enforcement officer. He’ll show you where all of his traps are, in exchange for you making his life a bit easier. Still, he’s going to keep a very VERY close eye on you. He’s not letting you go.

Eventually, he’ll propose a challenge. If you can get out of the hotel, you can join him at his house. If not, you stay in the hotel. He needs to change his traps anyways, so this give him a good opportunity to do that. You won’t know where the traps are, and he’ll set the other victims against you. Your only real advantage is that you might know the layout by then. Still, best of luck because you’re going to need it. He might be fond of you, but that only makes him want to push you more. In other words, he’s not going easy on you.

He’ll have you help him design traps, if your up for it. He’s impressed with your ability to get around the traps he designed, and wants you to help design traps to have the least escapability possible. He also wants obvious traps to scare his victims, so he’ll ask which obvious traps got to you the most. First-hand experience is the best way to get better results after all.

Otis Driftwood:

Well hot damn. He underestimated you. It’s not often he’ll admit he was wrong, and he still won’t outright say it, but Otis definitely didn’t think you could stand up for yourself to that degree

A victim had slipped past Baby, and you were the first on they came across while cooking in the kitchen. They started swearing at you, calling you and the rest of the family “crazy sons of bitches” and things of the sort while looking around wildly for some sort of weapon. You didn’t give them the chance, throwing the butter knife in your hand and sticking the victim in the shoulder. They screamed in pain and you could hear Otis yelling, asking what all the commotion was food. Apparently, the victim had too because they whipped around as Otis stormed closer to the kitchen. Using the opportunity, you grabbed a larger, sharper knife and leapt over the counter. Effectively tackling the victim, you stabbed them in their other shoulder, the stomach, the face, the chest, and the throat. They were long dead before you finished, and you knew that somewhere in the back of your mind.

Otis had seen everything from the counter leap and on, and boy was he glad that he did. That had to be the single-handedly hottest thing he had ever witnessed. His darlin’ not only getting their hands dirty but killing as if they’d done it all their life? He’s elated, ecstatic, over the moon, and deeply in love with you. 

You’re joining in on the fun from now on. He hadn’t really been keeping you from joining in anyways, but now he’s practically begging you to join in on the fun with him. He’d love to see what twisted shit you come up with when you have the tools and the encouragement. If you were relatively normal before hand (lets face it, there’s no way you were completely normal if you decided to be his partner in the first place) than you most certainly are just as far from normal as the rest of the family now.

The rest of the family would accept you even more. You’re fucked up just like them. You are one of them. After that point, you’re not leaving. Not ever. You're in it for life.

[this-is-ally-and-im-confused]

hey friend !! could i pls request a jack hughes imagine about the reader meeting him somewhere for the first time and having a completely different personality than him that he almost thinks its weird until he realizes how much he likes it and they hit it off? sorry that was so long ahh but thank u !! <3

when red met blue|| J.Hughes

(part 2 to “for you” out tomorrow)

Summary: What happens when jack falls in love with his opposite?

Taglist: @snugglyducklingbrewhouse @hugheshugs @boeswhore @oowenspower @nucksgal03 join the taglist!

Masterlist!

Warnings: like one second of mentioning getting hurt but mostly just fluff!

Jack’s pov:

It’s about two hours before the game tonight. So I decided to break my regular pregame routine and visit the little vintage clothing store on the street of downtown New Jersey. I can say with confidence that I’m not the flashiest fashion icon but I don’t do too bad.

At this point, I'd do anything to clear my head from the upcoming game against my brother. The Canucks are more than an even match for my team. I have confidence in my boys. We’ve been working hard, partying harder, and overall leaving our hearts out on the ice.

I mean, that’s where I leave my heart.

The boys have been quick to chirp me on my lack of partners. It sounds stupid– I know, but I think that I haven’t had a partner since before draft day. Plus, it’s safe to say that hockey can get a little lonely at times. See I have had this big reputation that often perceives me. I’m loud, cocky, and focused on my game. None of those are fatal flaws.

Somehow, they still certainly make it hard to date.

So as I stepped into the entrance of the dainty shop. I was surprised to see the most stunning girl I had ever seen. The only issue is the vintage Canucks jersey wrapped around her delicate frame. She’s adorable with her bulky glasses, her messy hair, her huge paint-covered jeans, and bright yellow doc martens.

“Hey! welcome to NJ vintage boutique…not a very original store name I know, but it’s ours! I'm y/n! How can I help you today?” the beautiful girl meekly squeals out. She doesn’t even make eye contact.

I can't help but internally “aww” at her. She’s tiny. So tiny that I have inches in height on her. I’m so busy looking her over that I almost forget to respond.

“Oh, I’m just looking around town. I had a few hours to kill.” I stammer out. My hand reaches up to rub the back of my neck. That’s a nervous habit.

Y/n looks me over. Her eyes narrow. I hold my breath as I wait for her to recognize me. Yet, she doesn’t. All she does is smile and turn back to folding t-shirts.

“Do you like hockey?” I can't help but ask her.

She finishes up her folding and walks behind a counter beside me.

“uhhhh if I’m honest, no. My friend invited me to a hockey game tonight. This was the only jersey I own! if you're interested, behind that rack there’s some vintage jerseys and stuff.” She shyly admits.

My heart was pounding at the speed of sound. I walked over and pretended to look over the jerseys. I spotted a New Jersey Devils retro. It’s perfectly her size. I wonder if I can convince her to trade teams.

“Have you worked here for long?” I am desperately trying to make small talk.

Which is apparently not my strong suit.

“I mean sorta, I'm only in Newark for art school.” She shared.

Wow, art school. I've never been so drawn in by the creative types. That explained the paint stains on her pants. My god, I must seem like a creep. The nagging inside me told me that I should ask her to look out for me at the game.

“Are you excited about the game?” I sheepishly ask.

She smiled and nodded. When I looked at her I saw the peppering of freckles across her cheeks. I saw the frog earrings dangling from her ears and how gorgeous her eyes were. She was electrifying.

In a nerdy and cute kind of way. Something about her made me want to know her more.

your pov:

You try not to freak out at the gorgeous customer in front of you. His shaggy blonde hair was so fluffy. He had stunning blue eyes. It took every urge inside of you not to pull out your sketchbook and draw the goofy look on his face.

“Ummm, I don’t know much about hockey but based on your Devil’s hoodie– I take it you do?” You don't know where you got the confidence to say that.

He nods eagerly. It’s adorable how his hair flops around as he does.

“You could say that,” he replies. He is not my type. Jocks had never been the ones you're into dating. Nevertheless, he was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

“My shift ends in fifteen minutes…do you maybe want to go grab a coffee and explain what the hell I’ll be watching tonight?” You nervously tuck your hair behind your ear. You’re not ever the one to ask boys out like this. You had crossed your finger as you waited for his response.

“Sure, I'll even explain what I do for a living to you.” he smiled and walked over to the jersey you had seen him look at earlier.

He handed me a gorgeous bright red jersey. You couldn't help the blush across my face. As well as the feeling that you would be changing from a Canuck fan to a Jersey Devil fan in no time.

Only if I'm lucky, that is.

~ after the game~

Jacks pov:

Once I get off the ice–I shoot y/n a text with our newly exchanged numbers telling her where to come to wait for me.

I hope that she let me take her out for something to eat. Or maybe I could find a way to convince her to see me again.

Her smiling face greets me as she waits outside with her friend. She’s gorgeous. I can tell she’s excited based on how she was bouncing on her toes. The best part of seeing her now was how I noticed her Canucks jersey from earlier had been replaced with a bright NJ devil's jersey. When I dropped my bag, she jumped towards me with a hug. I was overzealous to hug her back.

Her hug was dream-like. She fit perfectly into my arms. She smelt like cinnamon and oil paints. I thought about how that was a smell I could enjoy for the rest of my life.

I couldn’t wait to take her out.

I didn’t even care about standing my brother up for this girl. That’s how much she means.

your pov:

“OMG Jack! You played so well! How do you skate like that? Did it hurt to get pushed into the boards like that? How do you know when you should shoot?” you're rambling out excitement and fascination.

You couldn’t help but worry that you were annoying this likely exhausted boy. He just grabbed your hand and his bag. Jack insisted that you let him take you out for an after-game snack.

You agreed to say goodbye to the friend that drove you here. She just laughed and called you a “lucky girl.”

You sure do feel lucky. This handsome, athletic, and sweetheart of a man took an interest in you. You are the tiny, quiet, and artsy girl. It was something out of Romeo and Juliet.

You two were completely different.

Yet, it feels right. From the moment you asked Jack out earlier today, you knew just how giddy he made you feel inside.

Thankfully, Jack took over most of the talking. He explained how he knew when to shoot or pass. He told you about his first time on skates. Jack blushed as he remembered how his older brother Quinn and his mom would help him around the rink every day until he could do it skate on his own.

You melt.

Jack, the cocky loudmouth, is a momma’s boy and a family man. You saw him pout when he said he doesn’t get to see his family nearly enough. You chimed in with how you felt the same. Your family was far away. You hadn’t settled into life here yet.

Just like that, another topic where you two click.

The two of you drive to a 24/7 diner to grab a snack and a drink. Also, to spend time with your new crush.

When you sit down, he orders a black coffee. You order an Italian soda. Those are easily the most opposite drinks on the menu.

You two or opposites. Not in a discouraging way.

Maybe you two are opposites, but in the way puzzle pieces are opposites. Or the way colors that are opposites mix into new prettier colors.

“I’ve always liked purple more than red.” Jack pulls you out of your rom-com like thoughts.

Can he read minds?

He must be able to. Every movement you make or joke you tell–jack can respond in harmony.

It feels like the two of you exist in your shared little bubble. It’s A world where the two of you are complete opposites living in harmony.

You pull your sketchbook out of your canvas tote bag. Ready to show Jack what you made while at the game.

His eyes are filled with wonder and excitement as you flip the page. The center of your mixed media drawing book shows an image. The picture was drawn out in pencil, pastels, and ink. Who is the center of this drawing? None other than The #86 himself. The image of him smiling with his hand outstretched in celebration. The colors surrounding the art piece were the hues of red, blue, and purple clashing around the beautiful boy.

Jack now knew that he had met his opposite. However, you were meant to be his.

“Will you go out with me, y/n?” Jack said softly.

Under the lighting of the soft diner lights, you just leaned over the table and kissed him. It felt right. You were both two perfect colors mixing on a page.

[thesoulspulse]

Regarding Owen Ravenwood (Necroenergy ~ Part 2)

Now we’re onto the second important aspect of a necromancer’s power, the spiritual blue flames they use also known as “The Soul’s Pulse.” But before we really get into it, here’s a link to part one so you can get up to speed about what I’ve already covered so far.

Part 1: https://thesoulspulse.tumblr.com/post/688133147300364288/regarding-owen-ravenwood-necroenergy-part-1

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thesoulspulse/689949968949215232?source=share

And with that, let’s finish this!

So as a bit of backstory I’ve already mentioned in a video talking about Owen’s powers before, I borrowed my own term for this blue flame from an older fanfic of mine about a character in a totally different fandom that also had a necromancer in it. All I really knew about him at the time is that he was a necromancer and a twin so that pretty much left the rest to my imagination.

He could also use that power to manipulate the souls of anyone who have been reincarnated or come close to death before. That’s why I adapted some of those ideas into Owen’s story and his character since I wanted to do the same thing, to subvert the stereotype of a necromancer into someone good or like...a shepherd of souls that guides them to the afterlife if they get lost. I mean, Danny Phantom IS about ghosts after all.

As for the blue fire itself, there’s a lot of symbolic meaning behind it such as:

Protection/Guardianship

Cleansing/Purification

Spiritualism

Revival/Rebirth

Understanding/Compassion

Transformation/Change

Healing

Desire for Success

Creativity

Influence (aka an unbreakable will)

Love (the kind where you want to protect someone at all costs)

Serenity/Peace

Clarity/Wisdom

Spiritual Message/Guidance/Revelation

As an added bonus, in that previous fanfic I also used blue butterflies as another symbolic form of that power. And in Owen’s rewritten story “Nevermore” I’m bringing that idea back to use them as a special spirit guide that only necromancers can see.

“If you see a blue butterfly after someone you love passes away, some say it is a symbol of the soul who passed are nearby. If there were issues that were not resolved before they passed away, the blue butterfly is helping you with closure, so you can heal and be at peace with their death.”

On a side note, I am a huge Fatal Frame fan so since there are crimson butterflies in the second game of that series I thought having blue ones would be a nice nod to that!

Along those lines, this blue fire as well as the the glowing butterflies made of it also follow will o the wisp logic since they can either guide someone to safety or confuse them by mistake if no one understands what they’re meant to find by following them. Either way, they have a natural calming aura unless someone has hostile intentions in which case their purification power kicks in to burn away that negativity...

That said, this part of a necromancer’s power is mostly meant to be used to banish, protect themselves, and cleanse dark or demonic entities. And I wanted to give necromancers special powers that made them strong enough to handle fighting ghosts and demons even though they’re human. The idea here is that necromancers once existed in this world to protect the living from evil spirits and demons while also guiding any lost souls, aka ghosts, that want to finally move on and find peace in the true afterlife since the Ghost Zone is more or less a waiting area so to speak or often a self-made purgatory for ghosts with something holding them back, be it a selfish desire, hate towards someone or something, or wallowing in their own suffering.

You know, classic ghost stuff that tethers them to this world.

So that’s it, that’s the story behind how their main necromancy powers work. They have a few others too, but they’re not as complicated since those made them spiritual mediums that can see, sense, and understand things others can’t. Owen has other powers unique to him though that most necromancers don’t though because he’s been reincarnated so many times which is usually impossible for them to do unless a complicated ritual is involved. But I’ll get into that in another post later down the line...

[i-did]

Do you know when the racism and ableism accusations against Nora started? Because back when I was active in 2016/2017 and don't think they were a thing, or were very low-key. Was it something she said or are people just basing it off the things she wrote in the books?

From what I remember, the first time I heard the blanket statement of “Nora is racist/fetishizes gay men” blanket statement was early fall 2019 (which is so ironic for the fandom to say on so many levels lmao). There wasn’t a catalyst or anything, just she went offline 2016 and no new content was coming out and the aftg fandom is such an echo chamber that… an accidental smear campaign happened.

 Before then, I would see occasional “Nora used ableist slur” which… is funny (not that ableism isn’t serious) to me people care more about that than Seth saying the f-slur. IMO this is because with Seth, it clearly shows the character thinking it and not the author who is writing about what will be an end game mlm relationship. 

But anyways! Long story short, it's the fact that she’s an ace/aro woman who wrote a mlm book, and based off of the events in canon. There is no “Nora called me/someone else a slur” it’s “Nora wrote a book where slur(s) are used” and “the Moriyama’s are Japanese.”

Below I put my own opinion on these claims and go into more detail:

CW for discussions of: racism, ableism, mlm fetishization

Fetishization: (and mentions of sexism at the end)

To one question in the EC about her inspo for aftg she jokingly responded how she wanted to write about gay athletes. On other parts of your blog you could see she was a hockey fan and an overall sports fan (anime or otherwise) but I've seen this statement taken out of context and framed as “she's one of those BOYXBOY” shippers. Considering how… well-developed both Andrew and Neil’s relationship is, and it takes them until like the 3rd book and there is a whole complex ass plot going on around, you can see how that's just. Not really true. And considering the fandom is like… 85% women (queer women but still women) and I've gotten into a discussion with someone who is a woman and called Nora a fetishizer and was ignoring my opinions as a mlm, and I really just wanted to say “well what does that make you?” it's a very ironic high horse. She didn’t write 3 all 3 books to put Neil in lingerie pwp or crop-top fem-fatal fashion show, fandom did. 

Also, I talked to an ace/aro friend about this, and she talked to me about how AFTG spoke to her very much so as an ace/aro story. Neil is demisexual, Nora didn’t know of the word at the time of reading it, but she did get an anon asking if Neil was demi after, and she said “had to look it up, and yep, but he doesn't really think about it” (paraphrased). Obviously it would have been cool if andreil were canonly written as wlw by Nora instead, (which would have increased the amount of wlw rep and demi rep) but tbh I don’t think tumblr would have cared about it nearly as much and everyone would just call Neil a cold bitch–like people do with Nora’s other published book with a main character who's a woman. Plus they're her OC’s, not mine. 

The fact is that 50% of all LGBT+ rep in literature is mlm, mostly white mlm, and not written by mlm. I’m not going to hold her to a higher standard than everyone else, she already broke a shit ton of barriers in topics she discusses that otherwise get ignored. I’m grateful to these books for existing even if it's a mlm story written by a woman. I still will prioritize reading mlm written by mlm–and vice versa with wlw– in the way I prioritize reading stories about POC written by POC. But credit where credit is due, this is a very good story, and a very good demi story. 

Ableism:

To me, AFTG is a story about ableism and how we perceive some trauma survivors more worthy than others. Neil and the foxes using ableist language shows how people actually talk. Neil thinks shitty things about Andrew, like the others do too, and thinks he's “psycho”. The story ultimately deconstructs this idea and these perceptions of people. Wymack, someone who says the r-slur (which is still not known by the general population as a slur even in 2021 much less the early 2000s when the book was beginning to be written and what the timeline is based off of) is a character who understands Andrew better than most of the others do, and gives him the most sympathy and understanding despite using words like the m-slur and r-slur. Using these words isn't good, but it is how people talk, and this character talks. Wymack is a playful “name caller” especially when he’s mad, the foxes think Andrew is “crazy” and incapable of humanity and love because of it. They call his meds “antipsychotics” as an assumption and insult in a derogatory way, when really antipsychotics are a very helpful drug for some people who need them. Even Neil thinks these things about Andrew until he learns to care about him. All the foxes are hypocritical to am extent, as people in real life tend to be. Nora herself doesn’t use these or tweet them or something, her characters do to show aspects of their personality and opinions and how they change over time.

Racism:

As for the racism, I've seen people talk about how racial minorities being antagonists is inherently bad, which I think lacks nuance but overall isn't a harmful statement or belief. However, Nora herself said she wrote in the yakuza instead of another gang or mob because she was inspired for AFTG by sports anime, (which often queer-bait for a variety of reasons). I haven’t seen a textual analysis acknowledging the racist undertones surrounding the Moriyama’s as the few characters of color who are also major antagonists, but instead just “Nora is racist”. Wymack having shitty flame tribal tattoo’s is just… a huge 90’s thing and a part of his character design. Her having a character with bad taste in tattoo trends doesn’t mean she's racist. There is the whole how Nicky is handled thing, but that's a whole thing on it’s own. The fandom… really will write Nicky being all “ai ai muy spicy, jaja imma hit on my white–not annoying like me–boyfriend in Spanish. With my booty hole out and open for him ofc.” and as a Mexican mlm I’m like … damn alright. 

I think there is merit to the fact that she writes white as the default* and unless otherwise stated a POC a character was written with the intent to be white is another valid criticism, as well as the fact that the cast is largely white, but everything Nora is accused of I've seen the fandom do worse. That goes to the debate of, is actively writing stereotypes for POC more harmful than no representation at all? And personally I prefer the lack of established race line that lets me ignore Nora’s canon intent of characters to be white and come up with my own HC’s over the fandoms depictions of “zen monk Renee with dark past” “black best friend Matt who got over drugs but is a puppy dog” “ex stripper black Dan who dates Matt” vague tokenism. I HC many of the upperclassmen as POC and do my best to actively give thought behind it and have their own arcs that also avoids the fandom colorism spectrum of “darkest characters we HC go to the back and fandom favorites are in the front and are the lightest.” 

*I however won't criticize her harsher or more than… everyone else who still largely does this in fanfiction regarding AFTG as well as literature in general. This isn't a Nora thing, it's a societal thing, and considering the books came out in like 2014 I'm not gonna hold her to a higher standard than the rest of the world. She's just someone who wrote her personal OC’s and self-published expecting no following. I don’t know her race and I’m not gonna hold her to a higher standard than everyone else just because. 

The criticisms I've seen have always been… ironic IMO, and clearly I have a lot of thoughts on it. I think most people say those things about Nora because they heard them, and it's the woke thing to say and do and don’t critically analyze their actions or anything, but just accept them. 

[arcane-ish]

Solidly agreed, and this is why I don't like the absolute framing of all this "Silco/Vander is a bad/good father" or "Vi was abusive" discourse. Like...in comparison to what? Some utopian ideal? Not to say we can't interrogate and criticize specific things Vander, Silco, and Vi did vis-a-vis Vi and Powder/Jinx, or speculate that other characters might have handled certain things better, but as tragic as their story is I can contemplate way, way, way worse fates for children (especially girls) in Vi and Powder's position in a place like Zaun. There are no perfect solutions, only trade-offs.

Oh yes, so much. I won't rule out that I ever fall into this language of good/bad parent, but I do try to approach this more as "in that case, he or she did a bad parenting/a sub-optimal parenting" rather than "he or she is a bad/sub-optimal parent".

I come from an IT background and one thing that is very frequent here is this concept of a Retrospective where every 2 or 3 you sit down and go through "what went well and what could we have done better". This is ideally done in a very dispassionate manner. Where the point explicitly isn't to blame anyone or to say the project or the team sucks, it's more a "things are going well, is there anything we can do to make it even smoother/any way we could take on even more ambitious things".

I don't think that there is value in constantly second-guessing and regretting everything.

I mean, probably most meaningful message of the show in my eyes right here:

You can't do everything right, you can't be there completely for everybody at the same time. Everything is a trade-off.

But I do think that review and retrospective and thinking about what could have gone (even) better are valuable things IF you have the necessary distance from it.

For example: I, on two completely separate instances with plenty of time in between accidentally revealed to my niece both that the easter bunny is not real and that Santa Claus is not real.

It's something that we joke about repeatedly in my family. I don't think she holds it against me, I don't think that it impacted our relationship and I don't think that it made her life worse/she would have learned anyway/her life wouldn't have been significantly improved if she had believed in it one year longer/she overall seems to have taken it well.

It's not really something I feel great guilt or regret over. But from a retrospective point of view what I could get from it is that "maybe sometimes I speak too fast without considering the effect it has on the person opposite me, maybe I should keep watch out for that in case that props up again".

The beauty of tv for me is that it kind of automatically provides some distance. These are not real people, not real fates of people, we are looking at it from somewhat of a distance. We can look at their actions and discuss them and evaluate them and relate them to our own experiences, hear how others relate it to their experiences and maybe get something from them.

And do that in a way we might not be able to if we were in a comparably emotional situation ourselves or ran into the risk of insulting a person who is in a comparably emotional situation themselves.

We can take lessons from these characters, both from the things they do well and from the things where they are fatally flawed.

You can take good lessons and inspiration from "bad people", whether you take it from the areas where they aren't bad and just reject/ignore the areas where they are bad ("I'm not a serial killer war lord, but I admire his self-confidence") or whether you learn from them my negative example ("Whelp, I'm gonna work hard to make sure I don't end up/don't come across as this guy") or sort of preventative ("how can we avoid anybody from ending up like that").

I dunno, I just never get sick of Evan Monteiro's take he sees the show not as a call to action, but as an invitation to have sympathy with others.

[wintersoldierwhore]

𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 — bucky barnes

part 5 of the ‘positions’ series

(you can read these in any order, none of them are linked)

summary: after suffering the trauma of your boyfriend’s fatal accident, you feel love isn’t possible, but Bucky proves it is.

taglist: @missroro @amateureng @toolateforhappiness @summerdaughter @wendyswildwonders @blowing-mikey @homesicam @violet-amethyst-sky @babygirlwilly @hsbavery

warnings: mentions of death, angst into fluff

“Hey, doll.” Bucky entered your room, after knocking to check if you were decent. He’d done this routine every Saturday, waking you up early to ask if you wanted to train. Everyone had a partner to train with, and considering the pair of you were handy with knives, you were training buddies. Some Saturday’s you’d say yes, throwing a few knives with him, but most Saturday’s resulted in a sad Bucky leaving your room.

“I probably know the answer,” Bucky mentioned, folding his arms and leaning on the wooden door frame, “but do you wanna train?” You sat up from the bed you’d not left since 6pm yesterday. Steve would often come up with food, practically forcing you to eat.

Shaking your head, you smiled disappointingly at him before tucking yourself back in. He couldn’t be mad at you wanting to close yourself off, he would do it if he’d been through what you have. He’d been in a similar situation, but not quite. He just wished he could talk to you, get you out of bed for a few hours, at least.

“Nothing?” Steve questioned his friend, Bucky shaking his head in defeat. Sitting beside him on the couch, Bucky sighed heavily. Steve placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, feeling quite empathetic for him.

Steve was aware of Bucky’s years-long crush on you. Since you’d joined 3 years ago, he’d had heart eyes for you. But you were unavailable. You’d joined as a duo — with your boyfriend. The pair of you were the saviours of your hometown of Ohio, and the Avengers had scouted you to join them. The both of you were well-trained in combat, having met at a boxing gym. You were more knife savvy and stealthy, whereas, your boyfriend couldn’t miss a shot. So you were able to be both long range and short range.

Bucky’s growing crush had increased more as the months passed, seeing you being flirty, no matter who surrounded you or what you were doing. It sickened him. You were so sweet, truly carrying for Bucky, and he couldn’t have you. He tried giving up on his unrequited love, but he just couldn’t. You were too kind to him, it made him fall over and over again. Steve had helped him to at least cope with his feelings, and be able to work around you. You’d formed a pretty good friendship through training and in battle.

You remembered it like it was just a moment ago. One minute you were holding off a small group of soldiers, swiftly slicing them with your knife, your boyfriend trailing closely behind you with an P90. Next minute, he was a bloody mess in your arms, an inch within his death. You didn’t let him go for 24 minutes, Bucky finally prying you off of him. You’d lost everyone in your life — and now him. Love didn’t seem possible at this point, so you’d focused on your career, keeping your lover in your heart.

Bucky knew you’d become completely off limits the second you introduced your boyfriend to him, but even more so now, now that you were mourning your love. He chose to be there for you more than he was before, providing distractions for you, inviting you to training sessions, taking you out for lunch. And it worked, sometimes, but other days weren’t so great. You’d become bed bound from this heartache, and even after a year without him, it still hurt now and then. There would be nights when Bucky would hear your cries of pain, and come to comfort you, eventually the both of you would fall asleep together. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Bucky romantically this past year, but you threw it off as grief for your boyfriend. It would always lead to the inevitable question — were you ready for a relationship?

“I know it’s harsh to think about, but it’s been a year now,” Steve mentioned, “you need to make some sort of move.” Bucky sighed heavily, for the millionth time today. He knew Steve was right, but how? How could he make a move on a girl still grieving her boyfriend?

It was as if Steve read his mind, “ask her out to dinner, clearly training isn’t working.” It was a good idea, and a good suggestion, too. He’d taken a walk back to your room, preparing the cocky side of himself to appear. You were still tucked into bed, this time with your phone in your hands. You weren’t always this down, it was just one of your bad days.

“Seeing as you won’t train with me,” he began, sitting on the side of your bed, “will you come to dinner?” You rolled over to face him, your head on your hand and your messy hair covering your face. He caught sight of your weak smile, and a nod following shortly after.

The shower felt good, running your finger through your, now smooth, hair felt better. You’d found a casual yet nice outfit to wear, meeting Bucky in the lobby of the compound. Being out of the comfort of your own bed felt weird, you felt cold and out of place. Guilt and grief were weighing down on you, already exhausted from just showering.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll.” Bucky called out as he approached you, jacket in hand and RayBans perched upon his nose. He gave you a small squeeze, leading you to his car. You sat in the passenger seat, taking in the fresh smell. For an old man, he sure had a modern taste in cars.

He’d driven to a diner, one you’d been to many times with him. And you liked that he kept going here, you were obsessed with their onion rings. Bucky’s hand held yours the entire night, making sure you were safe and okay. It felt... nice. But you got the occasional feeling that you were cheating. That your boyfriend would be watching over you in tears that you’d moved on from him.

You pushed any negative thought you had to the back of your mind, and decided to enjoy the evening. You’d eaten more tonight than you’d eaten the past few days. Bucky always knew how to make you laughed, and make you feel comfortable. It definitely beat being alone in bed. However, when you’d gotten home, you began to freak out. You didn’t think you could move on from your boyfriend, you didn’t think you’d love the same way again after him. In a frenzy, you’d texted Bucky.

Tonight was nice, but I can’t do this.

He was expecting it, to be frank. He knew you’d panic over just being in a date setting. And as much as his heart was broken, he respected you more than anything. The next few nights were filled with awkward interactions for the both of you, Steve asking you both about the date. To which you’d both responded, “yeah, great.”

Tonight, you’d found yourself in bed, per usual, needing to feel someone’s touch. Just a hug, or something. Wrapping your arms around yourself wasn’t doing it. It was 3.39am, would Bucky be awake? The answer was yes. He was throwing punches at a punching bag in one of the training rooms. Nights were he couldn’t sleep, this is where you’d find him.

Hey, could you come up here?

That was the scariest thing you’d done, and you fought bad guys for a living. Nonetheless, Bucky trailed upstairs with his phone in his hand and met you in your room. Just for you to say, “I needed a hug.”

He’d fallen into your arms with ease, who in their right mind would turn this down? He held you, feeling you shift until your were comfortable. His arms felt tighter than your boyfriend’s, you felt safer. It was harsh to admit, but it’s true. In a moment of pure peace, you couldn’t get your mouth or brain to shut up.

“I’m sorry for that text the other day,” you whispered, your lips a centimetre from his neck, “I didn’t think I should be moving this fast, I was scared to think I had feelings for you. But I do. I’m just terrified to get into another relationship.” You were painfully honest, and he loved it.

“I’ve got you. I’m never going to ask you to forget him, or get over him, but I want you to give this a try. I promise you, till the day I die, I will love you endlessly. If you let me.” He spoke his mind, holding you closer as he said so. A tear fell, not thinking you’d hear those words ever again.

“It’ll be hard to let someone else in.” You confessed, looking up at him. His thumb swiped over your tear, ridding it from your face.

“I’ll wait for you, I swear.” He repeated. You knew he meant it. Bucky was always truthful with you, he respected you. It would be a shame to let him down. So you’d didn’t. As promised, you took it slowly.

There would still be nights where he held you, hoping to let you cry out your pain on his shoulder. You still had days where you were stuck in bed, but it was nothing a little breakfast and kisses couldn’t fix.

[joyfulhopelox]

Rosy Carnation

Pairing: painter!Min Yoongi x skater!reader (non-idol! au)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some talk about social anxiety, Yoongi is a bit harsh in the beginning but rest is just pure fluff

Word count: 6k

rating: pg

Summary: There was nothing in this world that Yoongi hated more than busybodies. Unfortunately for him one particular ditzy skater decides to break the peace by crashing into his life and offering him a rosy carnation

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner (thank you @mochi-molala for giving me the artistic approval for this think you didn’t realise how much it helped)

This is part 3 of my Love Blossom series and quite unedited, i tried but some mistakes may have escaped my notice

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

There was nothing more peaceful than being able to sit by the river in the early hours of the morning. Every day without fail, Yoongi would take advantage of the sleeping city and set camp by the riverside situated just on the outskirts.

The place was far from being secluded, its location sign-posted by the popular park that housed it. But he knew that during those hours no one bothered to visit, everyone was busy with their office jobs. It wasn’t that he was unemployed, it just so happened that his job allowed him to work from wherever and at whatever time. In fact, the more scenic the location the better for him. As a painter he had the freedom to choose his office, and his most prefered location happened to be by the riverside. The stillness of the morning, the sun just about to peek out from under the city skyline and the sound of the birds conversing amongst each other relaxed him. And if there was one thing that permitted Yoongi to paint without restrictions, was the tranquility of everything around him.

His normal spot, under a beech tree, was rarely used, the pathway that passed by it not being used by the general population. Sometimes he would spot the occasional cyclist passing by on their way to work, sometimes he would hear the scraping of the skateboards doing tricks in the skate park located behind the wall of trees that surrounded him. But no one ever bothered him, or was bothered by him. And it suited him and his needs just fine.

Yoongi disliked it when his flow was interrupted. Luckily for him, it rarely happened. No one threw him more than a glance as no one found the scene to be out of place. Sometimes he would be pulled out of his thoughts by the yap of a dog that got too excited at the prospect of a new human. Other times he would be questioned by the curious child that has never seen a painter at work. Those did not inconvenience him, the innocence and sincerity of the interference was enough to not disturb him.

However, what he miscalculated that day was the early start of the fishing season. One bad trait of being a painter working under your own schedule was losing track of time. And so when that one morning he trudged along with his canvas and his tools to his sacred spot only to find it occupied by fishermen he almost had a panic attack. He forgot all about that, and so unprepared, he did not know what to do or where to relocate. Pausing for a couple of minutes, his eyes scrutinising the men sitting on the riverbank in complete stillness, he contemplated on setting up his stool next to them. But when one of them yelled in glee at having caught a fish, he decided he’d rather not. Fishermen needed to be still because of the nature of their activity, that did not mean they were quiet people overall.

Disappointed and a bit frazzled, Yoongi picked up his canvas from where he set it next to his foot and left the area to scout for a substitute.

After what felt like a good few minutes of walking in circles, he found himself passing by a small public garden right in the middle of the greenery encompassing the riverside. He inspected it quietly, his eyes taking in the flower arrangements and the neatly cut grass. Has that always been there? Probably, it is not like he ventured out of his safe spot. But now, when forced to he realised that maybe there were other places where he could sit and paint in peace. Determinately, he walked into the small gated garden familiarising himself with the layout. There were some benches strewn across the space, all of them framed by vibrant rose bushes, some young oak trees judging by their height but what caught his eye most importantly was the small gazebo tucked away at the back of the garden gated by rows of variously coloured carnations. He decided that it would be the perfect spot, it would have to do for now. Not like he had any other choice. The morning was almost gone, the heat of the midday sun bleeding its way into the breeze. Soon the park will get busier and busier.

Dumping his belongings on the ground he sets off to unpack everything so he could get started. He felt strangely excited about this new spot he had found. Somehow, the novelty of the environment has given him the inspiration that he needed for today’s session. He normally shied away from new experiences, new people and most importantly unexpected circumstances, but this circumstance was more than welcome.

As he sat on his stool, paint brush in hand, the blank canvas staring at him, daring him to fill it with his vision he bit his lip. Suddenly so many ideas zoomed through his mind that he had a hard time deciphering which one sounded the best.

However, none of them made it on the actual canvas.

A skateboard zoomed straight past his feet,out of control, knocking into his carefully placed tools; acrylics and brushes scattered all over the ground in various corners of the gazebo. An exasperated yell and some harsh pants followed said abomination. Yoongi, who was too stunned to even form a sentence or comprehend what was happening around him, stared as you ran towards him at full speed.

“I’m so sorry, sorry sorry sorry” you repeated zooming towards him at breakneck speed. Still in shock Yoongi still couldn’t process what was happening around him. You were going to barrel straight into him but all he could do was blink, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation. One moment you were running towards the skateboard and the next moment found you laying sprawled at his feet.

“Ouch” Yoongi blinked once, twice, three times, and reality finally caught up with him.

He stared at the mess around him. His canvas was lying on the ground a few good feet away from him, its white clean surface now completely smudged with dirt and his acrylics and brushes were all scattered at his feet. The sight of his paints not only disorganised in such a fashion but also crushed and spilled all over the ground caused his stomach to drop. They were not the cheapest and they were also the only ones he had left. It was clear there was nothing to salvage, he had to go once more to the art store and buy more.

“Ohmygod i am so sorry!” The frantic voice was loud enough to make Yoongi wince.

You were not having a good day, and it showed. You started the morning by burning your toast. Then you forgot to grab your keys, which resulted in you having to beg your landlord for the spare in the early hours of the morning. To say they were not pleased was an understatement. You spilled coffee on your white top on your way to the park. And to top it all off you ended up hurtling towards an extremely handsome man.

You decided in the morning that you would try to learn that late kickflip your friends have been trying to teach you, but as a new skater you decided to practice in the garden just off the side of the skate park. One foot placement went wrong and your skate ran from under your feet flying towards the unsuspecting victim.

Luckily it did not hit him, however it scattered all of his belongings all over the dirty ground. It felt as if you were watching all of that happen in slow motion, when in reality it probably only took you a second to react. Trying to help and get a hold of your skate, you rushed to catch it in time before it disappeared into the row of carnations. But you miscalculated entirely the distance between you and the stranger, his foot halting your run.

And that is how you ended up there, on the floor, at his feet, covered in his paints.

You sprung up as fast as you could ignoring the tingling in your leg and started apologising profusely. However, the harshness at which you crashed on the floor combined with the speed at which you got up were a fatal combination. The blood rushed to your feet quicker than you could process and your knees gave out from under you. In an attempt to not crash onto the floor again you grabbed onto the closest stable object you could. Only, it happened to not be an object but a person. So with a clammy hand you latched onto the man in front of you.

Yoongi did not know what to do. You had grabbed onto him with such conviction that his brain malfunctioned. He hated to be touched, especially by strangers. And so when the fight or flight instinct kicked in he shrugged you off violently causing you to crumple on the floor once again.

“Ouch.” Your butt hurt and you wanted to be annoyed at him, but when you looked up to let your feelings known and your eyes locked onto his panicked ones, you paused. He looked ready to run off on you. “I- uh, am sorry” You tried once more to get up, this time as slowly as you could. You knew there would be a bruise later but it was not something you were unfamiliar with.

Yoongi did not respond to you. He couldn’t, his brain was still ready to shut down. He normally ran away from any human interaction, the nature of his job enough to facilitate such behaviour. Being faced with it and in such an unexpected way caused his anxiety to be at an all time high. And so he did what he normally does best; he retreated within himself completely ignoring your apology.

Silently he stepped away from you and crouched down to start picking up his belongings. With an anguished sigh he took in the mess that his acrylics had become. It was going to cost him a lot to be able to replace them but what other choice did he have?

Taking his silence as a sign of anger, you panicked. If there was one thing you could not stand was to see someone angry. Especially when it was directed at you. In an attempt to amend yourself to him you crouched down next to him and started picking up his stuff. “I am really sorry. I didn't mean to. It was just a new trick that i wanted to learn, and i am a newbie at all this and so i was scared to go to the skate park and try them. And I am a clutz and I knew this was going to happen at some point! The day has already started on such a bad note-”

You knew you were rambling, you were nervous. But Yoongi did not care about that. He just wanted you gone. He wanted his peace back, he wanted to get his work done and retreat back to his home and most importantly, he wanted you to get your hands off of his possessions.

Without looking at you, he harshly grabbed for the brushes that you had gathered in your hand. “Leave” he surprised himself at how resolute he managed to sound despite the slight waver in his voice.

“Are you angry? Oh my god you are! I am so sorry again, let me make it up to you! I really did not mean to destroy your work!” you get up once more rushing towards the canvas that lay a few feet away from the two of you. Picking it up you stare at the blank piece of material.

“Oh, are you an artist?” you turn to him, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Completely forgetting the incident from earlier you giddily walk over, the canvas extended towards him.

Yoongi could not believe his eyes, your brash behaviour in front of a complete stranger that has made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you was baffling to him. He contemplated for a second the thought of you being deaf, but then no because you had clearly heard him the first time. His anxiety quickly morphed into annoyance, if you weren’t going to leave he decided he would.

Taking a hold of the canvas you were handing over to him he pulled it out of your hands and stuffed it under his arm. Crouching down again he hurriedly stuffs his brushes and acrylics in his bag. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could before you had the chance to touch any of his belongings again.

“Hey, i-uh. Please don’t be angry. I really am sorry. Look you don’t have to leave, i will go” Yoongi paused, his hand hovering above his palette. Chancing a glance at you, his eyes widened a fraction. You looked completely frazzled. Not even looking at him, your eyes focused on your fretting hands. He could just about see a snippet of your face and the way your bottom lip was trembling slightly made his anger melt a little. Maybe he has been a bit too harsh on you.

“Yes” he offers offhandedly whilst placing his canvas back to where it was before.

At his change in tone your head snaps up and you gape at him. “What?” you breathe out in surprise. His soft but deep voice took you by surprise. It was extremely smooth and you had not expected it to come out of his mouth.

He did not offer you anything else, leaving you gawking at him, watching as he set up his canvas onto the easel. You were silent for a couple of minutes trying to understand what he had meant when it finally hit you.

“Ah! You are an artist! That is amazing, what type of paintings do you do? Is it nature?” you clapped your hands excitedly. “Of course it is nature Y/N, he is in the middle of the gazebo how dumb can you be” you muttered to yourself whilst shaking your head.

Yoongi glanced at you from his periphery. He wasn’t feeling as threatened by your presence as he had before, but that did not mean he was comfortable with you being there. He observed you for a couple of seconds watching as you muttered to yourself for the time being. He took it as a chance to set his palette down and tried to squeeze whatever was left of his acrylics onto it.

You realised a bit too late that you had started daydreaming whilst muttering to yourself and so with rosy cheeks you mutter another apology.

“You apologise too much.” Yoongi did not know where his courage had come from but he couldn’t stop the words spilling from his mouth. “I asked you to leave.” His harsh words caused you to flinch, but your eagerness to see him paint rooted you on the spot.

“Is-uh,” you took a deep breath in trying to calm your beating heart, “is it ok if i stay here and watch you?” You cringed at how voyeuristic that sounded. But you had to admit to yourself, the honey haired guy, with soft plump cheeks and pouty lips has caught your interest and you were not ready to part with him just yet.

Yoongi didn’t respond, he’s made it clear he wanted you gone, but he finally understood that the clumsy human that managed to wreck his set up was a stubborn one. He chose instead to ignore your presence and settle on his painting, giving you unspoken permission to do as you pleased.

Catching onto the meaning of his silence you beamed and sat yourself down.

Trying your hardest to be silent you bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate you disturbing him any longer. Soon enough, you slipped into a daydream your eyes focused on the flowers behind the hunched form of the intriguing artist.

Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, his painting was finally finished. He had opted to use greens this time, the nature around him inspiring the concept behind this. However, he could not help but add the dots of red here and there, its fiery tumultuous colour breaking the tranquility of the greens. Just like you had thundered into his life just earlier.

“Woah” broken out of the daydream by the sound of his sigh, your eyes focused on the painting before you. You knew you were easily impressed but this painting was stunning. “That is so cool” you whispered in awe.

Yoongi blushed, he had been complimented a lot on his work, but there was something about the sincerity shining through your statement that frazzled him. He nodded in acknowledgment. He had enough knowledge to be aware that he needed to thank you for the compliment.

“Oh!” you sprung up suddenly the transition making him jump. “I am late!” You quickly picked up your skateboard. “Ah,” stopping mid run you turn back. Rushing to the bushes of carnations you pick one up. With confident stride you head back.

Yoongi watched you, once again his mind completely discombobulated by your abruptness. When you halt in front of him and push the flower into his hands he doesn’t know how to react. Instead he just sits there waiting for your next move, his mind once again preparing him to flee.

“It was nice meeting you….uh?” You realised you did not ask for his name, so as you urge the flower into his grasp you wait patiently for him to offer it to you. When after a minute of silence he doesn’t you try again. “What is your name?”

“So can you like...teach me how to paint?” you eyes brightened at the thought.

“What?” Yoongi sputtered. A week has passed since the first time you decided to literally crash into his life. A week of your mindless chatter. Even so, he had tried his best to ignore you and your childish view of the world. He was ignoring you, but it was not like he couldn’t hear you.

He was not expecting that request, and yet, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Your randomness and innocence has been taking his breath away from the moment he saw you. You were all over the place, clumsy and random. He did not want to sit and ponder at that thought, feeling the shiver of anxiety creep back in. Schooling his expression to a neutral one he shook his head and went back to his canvas.

“No” the harsh tone of his voice made you flinch.

Not noticing the effect his words had on you he carried on, “You’d do a very poor job of it, and it hurts to think you’d waste all this material for some doodles.” Not giving you a chance to respond he sighed and put his brush down. “Finally finished.” He sat and observed his work for a couple of moments. He was satisfied, it was not his best work but he liked the outcome. The blue colour scheme gave him a sense of peace.

Realising the silence had gone on too long he turned around to face you. You were unnaturally quiet, your face scrunched up as if in deep thought. He would have thought you’d gone into one of your daydreams if not for the shiny gloss in your eyes. He could not understand why his heart did that flip, or why his mouth formed into a frown mirroring your own. Had he said something wrong? Mulling over his words he decided that maybe his tone was too harsh but you spoke up before he could try to remedy it.

“Ah, i see, you are right” you sniffed trying to mask the tears in your voice. “I am quite clumsy, there is no way i can make something as beautiful as this.” You gesture to his work, the canvas a swirl of blues, it reminded you of the ocean. You did not know why his words stung, it’s not like he didn’t have a point. You were probably incapable of creating something like that. Stick figures were all you could draw, and even those tended to be lopsided.

Yoongi’s heart clenched. “Uhh-” he did not know what to say, it wasn’t as if he could take it back. He did not want to take it back, he wasn’t a liar. But maybe he could have turned you down a bit softer than he has. He may have been awkward in social situations and missed a lot of cues, but the tears gathered in your eyes were hard to miss. Even he could sense the sadness that overpowered the atmosphere.

“It’s ok, i need to, uh go. I’ll see you next time. Here” you quickly drop something next to his brushes and without a second thought you turn away from him and leave as quickly as you’d arrived.

With your back turned towards him, your feet taking you further and further away you could finally release the sob that has been threatening to surface.His words hurt. But you were well aware it was not the words that caused the tear in your heart. It was the unfeeling and harsh way he threw them at you. You contemplated whether or not you should chance a glance behind you, but decided against it. You did not think you could stand the sight of him stepping on the last bit of dignity you had. A rosy carnation.

Yoongi knew he usually missed a lot of social cues. For example when the curator asked him out for a coffee and he told them he stopped drinking caffeine because it caused insomnia. Or when the gallery director had wanted to shake his hand in greeting and he simply just stared at it. It wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar with them, it was just that it took him a lot longer to process these cues than the average human being.

When you’d left him the carnation he simply threw a glance at it but did not give it a second thought as he carried on painting. He almost left it there when he packed up his tools- almost stepping on it. He saw it just in time, the rosy colour attracting his attention. He bent down and picked it up gently; the flower was almost wilted from the heat. Prepared to throw it away he thought of you and stopped. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your distressed eyes and the gleam of your tears weighing heavily on his mind. With a sigh he cradled the flower in his palm, he would put it in between the pages of a book and press it dry.

Yoongi had no clue why he kept visiting the gazebo to work on his paintings. His previous spot so rarely visited that he’s almost forgotten where it was. He tried to convince himself it was because fishing season has not ended and so he would have been bothered by the men setting up around him. He tried not to think of the fact that the thought of not having your voice there, or the noises of the skateboard you practiced with caused him distress. He told himself it was because after a month of having you there with him, you became part of his routine. Like the background noise of a radio in the morning.

He could not pinpoint when your mindless chatter and pleas to ask him to teach you how to paint had become comforting to him. Even at home when he would try to read, he would pick up a book and open it only to come across a rosy carnation drying in between its pages.

You had made it a habit to leave him a flower every time you came to see him. He did not ponder too long as to why, but he’s kept them all. He did not want to ponder too long on that thought either. So he ignored it, but deep down he knew why.

Your eagerness, your clumsiness, your childish view of the world were enough to melt the wall he has built around himself. Somehow, you chipped at that wall with determination just like you did on the first day you met. Ungraceful and uncoordinated.

He knew you’d wormed your way into his soul and just like the flowers he kept pressing for safekeeping, he’s ingrained the memory of you into his brain.

When you’d started to ask more personal questions he found himself answering without a second thought.

“So, uh, have you always wanted to be a painter?” You were sat next to him tinkering with the wheels of your skateboard, from time to time getting distracted at the way his long fingers were clutching the brush. You blushed, thankful he was distracted by his work.

“No,” Yoongi paused to bend down and pick his palette and you thought that was the extent of the information he was willing to provide. “My parents wanted me to be a lawyer.” With a new colour on his brush he squinted focusing on getting the lines just right, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

The silence that ensued settled heavily around the two of you. “Oh,” your voice did not sound too surprised. Yoongi glanced at you, you were gazing at him with such understanding that he found it hard to tear his gaze away. “Are they happy you chose to do what you love instead?” You carried on, trying out your luck.

Yoongi looked away from you, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say whilst your eyes were digging deep into his soul. “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged as if to make a point. “I left home to move here and haven’t spoken to them since.”

The words, heavy as lead, echoed in your brain. But they were not unfamiliar. “I am sure they would want to talk to you. My parents died when i was young and i was raised by my grandparents.” Your voice sounded casual, but the slight change of tone made Yoongi raise his eyes to look at you. You were smiling at him, your face not giving away any of the pain you were feeling inside.

Yoongi may have been socially anxious, but he was observant, he couldn’t help it, it was the nature of his job. His eyes picked up on the way your chin trembled and his ears caught the slight waver in your voice. He didn’t know how it happened until he felt the corners of his mouth raising up. And with an uncertain smile in your direction, he managed to erase the sadness that clouded over your face.

“Pick up that brush” his tone softer than you have ever heard it.

“Huh?” You didn’t know where the change in tone had come from, but it managed to take you by surprise.

“Pick up the brush,” he repeated his head nodding in the direction of said tools. “And come here.” He stood up from his stool gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. The contact of his cold hands on your warm ones made you shiver, but in the heat of the summer it felt comforting. You savoured the way his gentle hands pulled you into the chair and handed you the brush he had been holding. Softly he guided your hand onto the canvas and your breath stopped.

His hands, the hands you had been observing ever since you met him, were smooth. His long slender fingers imprinting themselves onto the back of your hand. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way the pale skin of his slender wrist peeked from under the long sleeve he was wearing. The skin on the inside of his wrist almost translucent enough to allow his veins to show.

“Like this” he steered the brush onto the canvas, his voice so close to your ear it made you your heart skip a beat. When the bristles made contact with the material of the canvas leaving the mark of the acrylic on it, you knew. Just like the doodle he’s made, his mark on your heart would be permanent.

Yoongi didn’t know when he started craving your touch. It just happened. He carried on giving you lessons, finding it ironic how adamant he was at the beginning to refuse you. Little by little he started looking forward to his morning ritual of setting up in the garden, your clumsy self stumbling in the gazebo just as he was about to set his easel down. He would not even sit himself first, he would grab your hand allowing himself to revel in the way your smaller rough hand would fit into his larger one and sit you on the stool. Handing you the brushes he would sit next to your skateboard and watch as you tried to create something on the canvas, your brows furrowed in concentration.

How ironic that you would switch places. He would sit for a couple of hours watching your uncertain movements and listen to the small sounds of glee when you’d manage to get the brush to do what you wanted it to. His heart would pound in his chest when your tongue would flit across your lips subconsciously and the small smile gracing his lips would be a permanent fixture on his face. He did not care that he hasn’t painted in a few weeks. He was more than satisfied watching you.

When your painting session would end you’d end up talking for hours under the shade of the gazebo, the smell of flowers wafting all around you.

And you would always leave with lighter hears and the crinkle of a smile indented in the corner of your eyes and him with a rosy carnation cradled to his chest waiting to join the rest of the others.

When one morning you didn’t arrive at your usual time under the gazebo Yoongi noticed. He decided to wait for you for hours, but when the sun bled under the city skyline and the night settled in he decided it was time to go home. With a heavy heart and an empty hand he returned home hoping that the next day you would arrive and tell him about your day.

But one day turned into two, which turned into a week, which then turned into two- and before he knew it a whole month had passed.

In the beginning Yoongi would wait for you patiently, hoping that he would hear your yelps or even your greeting from afar. When that did not happen, he decided he would use that time to continue painting, maybe you’d arrive halfway through and ask him about it. When that didn’t happen either he noticed that instead of a smile on his face he now wore a frown.

After a whole month of not seeing you he became numb to the feeling. He decided that he would not let his mind ponder too much on your absence. But he could not completely block the way his thoughts would return back to you, and he could not help the wistful gaze he would throw the carnations around the gazebo.

As the months of summer wilted into the chill of autumn, the day he decided to stop waiting for you was the day you once again stumbled into him.

Running as fast as your leg permitted you halted a meter away from him, your breath coming out in harsh pants. Yoongi faltered, the grasp he had on his brush slackening, the tool clattering to the ground. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. Instead his eyes took in the way your form trembled with exhaustion, stopping at the wrapped up parcel you had under your arm.

“I am so so so sorry” you rasped, the effort causing you to cough. Looking up at him, your gaze met his dark one. He did not look upset, or even disinterested. He looked concerned, then you realised the state you came to see him in.

Yoongi took notice immediately at the lack of skateboard, this time replaced by a crutch. The way you were favouring one leg over the other concerned him. Had you been in an accident?

“I am so sorry,” you repeated, taking him back to the first moment he’s met you. Your clumsy self apologising incessantly and rambling in nervousness. “I fell one day whilst on the way here, and i broke my leg. I did not mean to stop showing up i promise! I had wanted to come see you as soon as i left the doctor’s office but the injury was worse than i could have suspected and- and” your voice wavered, trembling in exhaustion, still not having caught your breath.

Yoongi got up without a word, his silent form approaching yours. When only a few inches were left between the two of you he places both of his hands on your shoulders halting your apology. Looking up at him your gaze softens, his eyes were glossy but his mouth curled up in a smile.

“You’re ok” he repeated over and over as if to reassure himself. Your eyes now mirroring his own watery ones you nod.

In a flash he hugs you tightly, your crutch clattering to the ground and the parcel under the other arm making a dull thud as it hit the dirty floor. You gasped in surprise, your arms not knowing where to settle themselves. After a couple of seconds your brain catches up and relaxes and you melt into his hug. Despite his hands being always cold, his hug is warm and inviting.

You think back to the first time you met, how his cold words told you to leave him be. The drastic change in his attitude and demeanour make you smile softly. You burrowed your head in his shoulder inhaling his scent. He smelt of oils and acetone with an undertone of something floral, and you gasp. Carnations.

As if remembering something important you pulled yourself away from his touch, the cold autumn air making you shiver at the loss of contact.

Yoongi is confused for a moment, his eyes widening in panic. Has he made the wrong move? Has he read your intentions wrong? His heart clenches at the thought of you not returning the feelings that bloomed in his chest. But when you offer him a reassuring smile and bend down, grabbing onto his arm for support his emotions settle.

“This is for you” your hands were shaking. Handing over the mysterious parcel, you waited patiently for him to take it.

He glances at it uncertainly, but when you push it towards him his hand wraps around it. With as much skill as he could he opened it with one hand. Tearing the paper away he gasped. The corner of a canvas is sticking through the whole.

Looking at you in surprise your nervous eyes urge him to carry on. So he does.

The paper now completely teared open, his eyes settle onto a familiar flower painted onto the canvas. A carnation.

You watched him open your gift. You had tried your hardest during the time you were stuck at home with a cast on to practice and after weeks of painful frustrated tears, you’d finally managed to get it right. You had wanted to convey your feelings in a way that he would understand without feeling the pressure to conform to societal norms. To show him how much his effort to accommodate you and include you in his secluded life meant to you.

“Did you know,” you were whispering, “that rosy carnations mean admiration?”

Yoongi finally got it, realisation dawning over his features. He looked up at you, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding his chest. You were still smiling at him a tear now running down your cheek. “I wanted to convey my admiration for you in a way that would be permanent.” The hand on his arm tightened as if you make a point. “So i tried my best to do that.”

Yoongi smiled, not the uncertain smile you were used to, a full smile, the gums of his teeth showing, his features softening.

“A painting is not eternal, but with the artist the painting it over and over again it can be.” His free hand cups your cheek gently. “So stay with me.”

Main Masterlist

[yuthoe]

Time (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

a few things:

1. yes i'm a monbebe now too and i fully blame fatal love era hyungwon for it. he has my multistan ass whipped

2. THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN FOR THIS BLOG HOLY GAWD

3. i'm back to going to the office everyday for work, so we're back to infrequent posting lmao

ok so. i've wanted to write a vampire fic for so long now (the previous/first one i wrote was back in 1st year high school and despite my massive vampire kink i didn't attempt to make any other vamp related stories haha), and when i saw hyungwon in that red suit with the long hair and the eyebags and the turtleneck i just kinda went feral. this thing took me like, almost a month to write; it's been hard to cook up writing brain juice between work and trying to be healthy and keeping up with the pan de manila.

i fully intended for this to be like, sexy suggestive and leading to something more for the ending, but like. it turned out soft. somehow. the premise was perfect, but somehow my brain was like, "no make it soft" and we have whatever this is.

this is unedited bc i wrote it half-asleep and wanted to get it out there

PAIRING: Chae Hyungwon x reader. GENRE: vampire!AU, some fluff, modern fantasy. WARNINGS: vampire-typical injuries—biting, blood—some very mild sexual themes. WORD COUNT: 3,589 (holy shit).

---

The entryway is lit by the two dim overhead lights, casting an orange tint to the concrete floor. You take care to slip your shoes on quietly, not wanting to accidentally wake the slumbering man in the other room; he just got home a few hours ago and you didn’t want to cut his sleep short, remembering how he slowly slipped under the covers with you, winding an arm around your midsection and releasing a heavy breath before passing out.

So with a glance at your watch—the one he got you for your birthday a few years back, the one you’ve worn almost everywhere since—you grab your work bag and try to slip off the chain lock with as little sound as possible.

“Are you leaving for work?”

You flinch at his voice, huskier now with remnants of sleep. Hyungwon has a thing about soundlessly walking into places and surprising you by suddenly speaking. Your face scrunches at your failed attempt to slip out unnoticed, and a loud sigh escapes your lips as you turn to face him.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask, stepping right to the elevated wooden floor that separates the entryway to the living area. Hyungwon is wearing a white shirt that completely swallows his slender frame and loose pajama pants. You cup his soft cheek, drag your hand to his neck, his shoulder, down his arm, until you’re intertwining your fingers.

“Pretty much since you left the bed,” he mumbles, taking his other hand and wrapping it around you, pulling you to his chest. You feel him rest his face on the top of your head and breathe in your scent.

“Aw,” you reply quietly, smoothing a hand down his back. “And I thought I was being super quiet this time.”

There’s comfortable silence as Hyungwon basks in your warmth and you can swear he’s close to falling asleep where he stands. You think there’s no other place you’d want to be right now, but unfortunately, you need to work and he needs to sleep.

You let go of the strap on your bag and tap his side gently. “I have to go,” you murmur.

Hyungwon groans, lowers his head and tilts it to the side to whisper directly into your ear. “Do you really have to? Because there’s something more important you need to do here.” He noses at your temple, his cold breath fanning against your ear.

“Oh? And what is that?” It’s too early in the day for goosebumps, and the faster you force him back to bed, the better your chances of resisting the sweet pull of his voice.

“Mmm…,” he groans again, and you feel his smile as he kisses your ear. “Sleep.”

You snort, pulling away with a soft smile, free hand coming to cup his face. You pass your thumb over his cheekbone and watch as he melts at your touch, dark bangs falling over his closed eyes. “I’ll be home early today, love,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips.

Hyungwon’s eyes open unhurried, and he leans down to return the peck, lips moving slow against yours like honey. “Hurry back,” he mumbles against your lips.

***

A quiet sigh leaves his lips as Hyungwon toes off his shoes, leaving them at their designated space at the entrance. He hangs his bag and coat on the hooks before silently walking through the apartment to the bathroom, eager to scrub himself clean of the aggravating scents and grime of the club.

Hyungwon loves his job, he does. The people he interacts with there, though? Still up for debate.

The hot, almost scalding water seeps into his skin, warming him up from the outside. He’s used to the cold, he himself being below the normal human temperature for nearly a century now. The droplets sting a little, but it’s the pain that grounds Hyungwon to reality, a sort of proof of life in his years of floating along the endless river of time, never knowing when and where his journey would end.

There’s another pain, a burning in his throat, that reminds him well of his immortality. It assaults him every few days, and over the years has dulled from hurting so bad he nearly claws out his neck, to just being a pain in the ass that makes him cough if he doesn’t slake the thirst.

Hyungwon’s body cools rapidly when he shuts off the water, the soft April chill helping it along so that he’s mostly dry when he grabs his towel.

The bedroom is silent when he slips in, quickly dressing in the huge shirt and loose pants from yesterday, before he ducks out again to make a beeline to the kitchen, folding his tall frame into a crouch as he opens the refrigerator. There’s a space just for his blood bags in the far corner of the fridge, that he immediately scans and finds empty. Hyungwon groans and slaps a hand over his face.

Of course he forgets to stop by the blood bank tonight. He vaguely remembers taking the last bag four days ago and making a mental note to call Kihyun for his refills, but there must have been something that distracted him at the time because at present, he can’t recall contacting Kihyun about it at all, despite exchanging messages regularly.

He stands to his full height as he closes the door, leans his head against it as he mulls over his forgetfulness that never went away in all his years of living. And before he slips back into your bedroom and into the sweet realm of sleep, he rummages in his bag for his phone, texts his friend, gets a short scolding about his poor memory, and then sets a date to pick up his food.

Hyungwon quietly pads back to the bedroom and closes the door soundlessly, careful not to wake you. He slides in next to you, pulling the comforter snug against him as he rests on his elbows. He takes a few seconds to gaze at your sleeping figure, something he does every night. The random thought of coming off as creepy on the off chance you wake up runs through his head, but at the same time he thinks he wouldn’t mind if you catch him watching you sleep.

You know Hyungwon loves you, and he’s told you before that you’re one of his anchors to his hold on humanity. Never once in your two-year relationship did you take his vulnerability for granted, and he’s (quite literally) eternally grateful for your kindness and love.

He settles in on his side, and his shuffling has got you adjusting to his shape under the covers. Hyungwon feels you turn to face him and reach for his arm. You groan small, pull at his slender limb to wrap it around you, and he just lets you move him the way you want, an amused smile on his face. His other arm slides beneath your neck, and you nuzzle closer to him, breathing deep when you’re finally satisfied. He counts five seconds before your breaths even out in slumber.

Hyungwon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and inhales your scent, relaxed now and ready to follow you into sleep.

***

His alarm wakes him at noon, the shrill tone making him jerk and tighten his arm around the warm body in front of him, brows scrunching as he groans softly. Hyungwon stretches an arm towards the nightstand and turns off the alarm with an expert swipe of a finger. He buries his nose into your hair, not wanting to enter the land of the living yet. You respond with a hum, shifting and turning so your back is pressed against his chest.

You both try to doze off again before Hyungwon realizes two things:

One—It’s a Friday.

Two—You’re still in his arms.

“Love,” he mumbles against your hair.

You reply around five seconds later, with a simple grunt.

Hyungwon snorts a laugh, eyes still closed, but mind slowly waking with every passing second. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Another grunt from you, this time louder and longer. You shuffle under the sheets to turn to him again, eyes persistently closed and brows knit slightly. “Took the day off,” you mumble and slither your arm under his, scooting closer to bury your face in his neck. “Wanted to spend some time with you.”

At this Hyungwon smiles, rests his cheek on your head. “So we have until tomorrow night to do whatever then.”

It’s quiet for a few moments before your head shoots up. The movement startles Hyungwon and makes his eyes pop open. Bleary eyes meet, yours equal parts confused and suspicious. “What do you mean? You took the night off, too? But it’s Friday—the club’s gonna be packed.”

He levels you with a casual shrug. “Yeah,” he says, sliding his hand up your arm that’s around him, and stopping at your neck. His large hand completely covers your neck, long fingers splaying onto your cheek and winding into your hair. “I wanted to spend time with you, too.” He clears his throat. “I’ve missed you.” Hyungwon can feel the steady pulse under your skin and he clears his throat again.

You smile, lean down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

And another one.

And another.

And you would have rained more kisses on him had he not started coughing and turned his head away. The ache in Hyungwon’s throat wasn’t that bad when he was asleep, but now that he’s awake, it’s irritating to the point of annoyance. He knows the thirst is his fault, but damn, would it kill him if he could have a peaceful morning (noon) with you before his body complains about being hungry?

He feels a hand smoothing down his back as the coughing goes down. He takes shaky breaths as he sits up and leans on the headboard. After a big exhale from him, you say, “Are you okay?”

Hyungwon looks at you and smiles tightly. “I’m fine. Just a bit hungry.” He sits up, only to scoot closer to you and wind an arm around your back. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he talks, voice low and scratchy. “Ran out of my supply and I forgot to call Kihyun about it, and it’s been a few days since I had a drink. And it’ll be a couple more days before I can stop by the blood bank for my refills.” A cough.

Your arms are around his wiry frame, fingers running up and down his spine and making him drowsy. He’s still tired and sleepy, but the thirst is keeping him awake.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask quietly. “From me?”

Hyungwon stills, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not all the time he gets to drink from you; in fact, he makes it a point to not do it because he doesn’t want to scare you off. You’ve been living together for six months, known each other for years before that, but he still worries, silently waiting for the day you decide that being with a vampire isn’t worth it after all.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I’m fine.” He pushes down the cough building in his throat.

You card your fingers through his long hair. “I know you try not to, but I’m okay with it. You sound like you’re really hurting.” You rest your head against his. “We’ve done it before, and it didn’t really hurt. And I trust you, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon is tired. Is sleepy. The thirst isn’t all that bad, but the coughing is aggravating his already dry throat. He hasn’t gotten a sip of blood in five days and nothing else could quench this particular thirst quite as well.

A small cough. “Are you sure?”

Your head is still resting on his and he feels you nod. “Yeah. Besides, I…” You clear your throat before speaking. “I like it when you drink from me.”

The vampire freezes, not quite knowing what to do with this newly revealed information. He’s not sure if what he feels right now is mild lust or genuine surprise. In the (very) rare times he drinks from you he thought he saw a twinkle of anticipation in your eyes, like you’ve been craving it, too. He thinks maybe his view of himself is clouding whatever opinion you have of him, bad and good alike.

Hyungwon’s lips purse, trying to keep himself from laughing because he can tell you’re serious about this, just as worried about him as you are excited about the prospect of being bitten; it’s still a bit unbelievable. He finally raises his head and looks square at you.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asks again. “You really want me to drink from you?” He crosses his legs under the blankets and pulls you with the arm still around your back.

Sometimes you forget Hyungwon is so strong—he doesn’t make his strength known to you, unless you both need it a little rough in bed. Now, he practically lifts you onto his lap, emboldened by your declaration. You straddle him, sitting snugly with both his arms around you; your hands naturally find themselves on his broad shoulders.

“Mhm,” you simply say, nodding your head. Adrenaline is running through your veins, and you’re sure Hyungwon can clearly hear how loud and fast your heart is beating right now.

It also seems like he can read your mind because he takes one of his hands and rests it softly against your chest, right over your heart.

You see him swallow. “Your heart is beating so fast,” he says, dragging his hand up to your neck, fingers soft on your skin, and you shiver. “Your pulse is racing.” Hyungwon is looking at you like you’re a meal he can’t wait to devour. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you say, even though you don’t really know if what you’re feeling is excitement or embarrassment or lust of fear. You can’t recall any of the previous times he fed from you being this tense—it was always out of desperation and pain that he reached out to you for this, and despite this moment being along the same lines, it’s… very different.

The loose collar of your sweater—one of his you pilfered long ago—is pulled to the side, and you shiver again as his fingertip brushes against your skin. Goosebumps raise on your arms as Hyungwon trails that single finger over your collarbone, up your neck again, to cup your chin and pull you in for a kiss.

His lips are gentle, but you can feel he’s holding back, trying to take it slow in case you change your mind. When you respond and bite his lip, he growls and pulls you by the back of the head to kiss you deeper. The arm around your back tightens, and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair as he angles your head the way he wants.

Tiny moans spill from your lips as Hyungwon’s tongue explores your mouth. When he pulls away, your sight is flooded with his red irises, gold specks swimming in the pool of his eyes that almost glow in the dark room. So chillingly beautiful.

You’re breathing hard, unable to look away from Hyungwon’s captivating gaze. A thought passes through: No wonder humans just fall at their feet—who could look away from such a mesmerizing sight?

“Last chance,” he mutters, wetting his plump bottom lip, his scarlet eyes fixed on your neck. “You really want this?”

You card your fingers through his head and tilt his face up, dropping a kiss to his closed eyes, his nose, his pretty lips. You cup his cheek and give him a small smile. “Do it.”

Hyungwon takes a deep breath and kisses your cheek, trails his lips to nip your earlobe, and then lower… He goes slow, building up your anticipation, getting your heart rate up with every kiss and nip and suck.

He laves his tongue over a spot on your neck, and you let out a sigh, relaxing in Hyungwon’s firm hold. The hand still tangled in your hair guides you, tilting your head to the side. He noses at your neck and gives you a final soft kiss, before he draws his fangs and punctures your jugular.

You squeak in pain; the bite stings, but it goes away as fast as it came. You feel Hyungwon draw back his fangs and begin to suck, dragging his tongue over the wounds, and groaning low in his throat at the sweet taste of you.

It occurs to him how much he misses feeding from you. Because of the rarity of these occasions, your blood becomes a treat to him, a sort of delicacy that he deliberately denies himself of. It didn’t take him too long after that first taste of you long ago, to realize that your blood is dangerously addicting.

Hyungwon focuses on drinking your blood, drinking in the small moans you make as he marks your soft skin. He feels your restless hands clawing at his back, the other winding through his long hair—pulling him close or pushing him away, you don’t know.

Your senses are heightened and dulled; you’re acutely aware of every miniscule movement of Hyungwon’s lips on your neck, but the rest of your body feels like it’s floating. He groans against your skin and the vibrations send a jolt of lightning up your spine and you whimper.

Hyungwon immediately pulls back, worried he hurt you. His mouth is stained red. “Are you okay?”

You’re nodding before he finishes, cupping his cheek with a hand. “I’m fine, Hyungwon.” You give him a small smile as he melts into your hand, one of his coming up to keep it there. “Did you want more?”

He shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now. Thank you, love.” He exhales, and you think he does look better than earlier—his skin is brighter, the bags under his eyes are gone, and he’s even breathing more easily. “Let me go clean you up,” he says, and lifts you gently off him, setting you down on the soft comforter just in front of him. He pats your knee before getting up and padding to the bathroom.

You gaze at him as he leaves, the sight of his model-like figure waddling like a penguin amusing. Hyungwon stops at the door and turns to you, smiling at you softly.

He returns a minute later, warm damp washcloth in hand, mouth clean and eyes a lovely brown. He sits at the edge of the bed and cleans your neck with gentle swipes. The bleeding has stopped and the wound is closed, but the surrounding skin is blooming with black and purple bruises. Hyungwon clicks his tongue. “I’m sorry, love. The bite’s gonna leave a mark.”

You carefully tap the wounds, smoothing fingertips over the raised marks. They sting a bit, but it feels more like the soreness after getting a vaccine shot than anything. “It’s okay, love. They’ll heal over the weekend.” You catch his lips in a soft kiss. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

He sets the bloody rag on the nightstand and moves closer to you, kissing you back, cradling your neck for support as he coaxes you to lie on the bed. You smile through the kiss, giggle as you wind your arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips. “You looked so beautiful earlier… Thank you for letting me do that.”

You hum. “Anytime, you need, babe. I enjoyed it.”

Hyungwon is propped above you, a thigh slotted between yours. Lazy, slow kisses against the soft sheets seems like the perfect activity for the rest of the day. But you have other plans.

“I gotta admit, though,” you said, brushing his long bangs from his eyes. “That was… kinda hot.” You try to fight a smile, embarrassed at the admission, despite the compromising position you were in just minutes before.

Hyungwon chuckles, ducks his head to press a soft kiss to the puncture marks, the underside of your jaw, your earlobe. “I didn’t expect you to be so into it,” he whispers, his baritone voice seeping into your bones and making you shudder.

You laugh loud at that. “Well, my boyfriend is a hot vampire, what did you think was gonna happen?”

Hyungwon laughs with you, rests his forehead on yours and kisses you again. He buries his face into your neck, the unmarked side, and snakes his arms around your back and rolls you to your sides.

Fingers trace mindless shapes on his back, play with his long hair that’s tangled from your restless hands earlier, relax in the quiet of the afternoon. Your heads are at the foot of the bed, legs tangled together. From the top of Hyungwon’s head, you can just barely see the sun peeking through a slit between the dark curtains, but all you want to do is sleep.

You’re close to dozing off when Hyungwon suddenly speaks. Three words. Your favorite.

“I love you.” He squeezes you slightly and breathes in your scent.

You smile and reply, “I love you, too.”

The world outside your window keeps turning; the weather looks nice today. But you’re not stepping out, not when your whole world is right here, snuggled in your arms.