#if you're there more than once then it's because of the aforementioned reason

[hyucksos]

after rain, comes sunshine — huang renjun

pairing: huang renjun x f!reader genre: coffee shop au, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, romance, slow burn-ish wc: 6.7k synopsis: a thunderstorm leaves renjun stuck with his relentlessly cheerful, ever-optimistic coworker— you. you're the embodiment of everything he hates, but as the night stretches on, renjun starts to realise that the things that irritate him the most may not be all that unbearable after all. at least, not if it involves you.

There are three things in this world that Renjun hates.

Early mornings, small talk, and thunderstorms.

He must have done something super horrible in his past life, because it's barely even 3pm, and Renjun has had to go through all three of the aforementioned in that exact order.

He wasn't even supposed to come in to work today, but Donghyuck had called in sick (Renjun finds that hard to believe) and he was the only other person on the roster who knew how to make a Toasted Caramel Cloud Latte. Obviously, that wasn't a good enough reason for Renjun to willingly sacrifice his much-needed sleep, and it seemed that Donghyuck knew that too, because not only was he quick to promise Renjun to cover him for his next shift, the boy had also vowed to chip in to buy the new set of gouache paints he had been eyeing for so long.

That was what got Renjun out of bed, albeit begrudgingly.

The last thing he needed was an extra factor to contribute to his already-terrible mood, but that was what he got anyway when he stepped into the café, only to be met with you.

"Morning, Renjun!" You chirped from behind the counter as you dried down a mug, the café already prepped for opening— you liked to take your time when doing the opening duties, and you found that coming in earlier helped avoid any unnecessary rushing on your end.

Renjun didn't say anything, opting to shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the ceiling. You didn't miss the tick of his jaw as he trudged towards you wordlessly, letting his bag fall from his shoulder to the shelf beneath the cash register.

"You know how to make a cloud latte," he muttered under his breath as he put on his apron, securing it tightly with a double knot behind his back. "Why am I here?"

Despite his less-than-enthused response, you grinned. You've been working with Renjun long enough to know that he's a little bit of a grump, so you didn't take his moodiness to heart.

"Hyuck's your best friend. It would make sense for him to ask you instead of anyone else," you reasoned lightly. "Plus, having company isn't so bad, is it? You'll be out the door before you know it!"

"Citizens are advised to stay indoors..."

Renjun lets out a groan as he lets his head hit the cabinet behind him. It hurts, but not as much as the migraine that's already beginning to form in his temples. And as if to add insult to injury (no pun intended), the sky lets out yet another guttural rumble, reminding him once more of his ill-stricken fate.

"I don't think Seoul's had a downpour this bad in ages," you remark from somewhere at the dining area. Renjun couldn't tell where exactly you are; he had slid down to the floor when he decided to accept his fate fifteen minutes ago, and his only view since are the bottles of syrup and unopened bags of coffee beans under the espresso machines.

And as if to add even more insult to injury, the two of you are the only ones left in the shop. With it being a Tuesday afternoon, most of your regulars are either at work or school. Renjun has never liked working during the rush hour, but God does he wish for that to be the case now.

He looks up when he sees your head pop above the counter, raising a brow at the smile on your face. He knows how awfully cheery you are, but even in a time like this? You must be crazy, he thinks.

"Isn't this nice? I never knew this café could get any cozier."

"Nice?" Renjun scoffs as he finally gets to his feet. "What about this is nice? We're stuck in, I don't know, what might as well be a Cat 5 hurricane, and you think it's nice?"

You roll your eyes, seemingly unbothered by his sharp tone. "You're so dramatic! I've been in one, you know? While I was on vacation in the States. It was a Cat 2, I think, and I promise this doesn't even come close to that! I mean, as long as we're not asked to evacuate, we should be fine-"

Renjun lets out a loud tsk, cutting you off as he unties his apron rashly, the fabric crumpling in his hand.

Your eyes widen when you register his movements. "You're not actually planning on leaving, are you?"

Renjun scoffs dryly in response. "You think I have a death wish?"

"Honestly? I could never tell when it comes to you."

He glares at you.

You quickly round the counter, successfully trapping him before he could escape to the break room. "Look, I'm sure it won't be too bad! Let's just continue to wait for updates. Coffee?"

"I hate coffee," he deadpans.

"You literally work in a café!" You laugh airily, moving to the teabag jars beside the espresso machines. Despite the heater being on, the coolness from the outside is starting to seep in, and you're sure Renjun could feel it too.

He doesn't say anything but huff under his breath as he leans against the cabinets behind him, taking out his phone from his back pocket. You take it that he's done with the conversation.

For a while, it's silent, the only sound apart from the tinkling of your metal spoon the harsh crashing of raindrops against the window panes outside. You think it's calming, but Renjun seems to think otherwise when you see him flinch from your periphery at the sudden flash that illuminates the room, soon followed by a loud boom of thunder.

Instinctively, you turn to him, but Renjun keeps his eyes fixed to his phone, his lips downturned into his usual frown.

"Did you know that lightning is hotter than the surface of the sun?" You remark, crossing the distance towards him with the mug of tea in your hands. Renjun looks up from his phone at your question, his stare blank, but his right brow raises slightly when he realises what you're offering.

He doesn't make the move to accept the mug as he pockets his phone, opting to cross his arms instead. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head. "Huh?"

He nods towards the steaming mug in your hands. "What are you trying to do?"

"You said you don't like coffee, so I made you tea instead! It's Lemon Balm, known to reduce anxiety. It could also improve one's mood-"

"Yeah, so long as I'm still trapped in here, that's not gonna happen," he mutters, turning to face the window outside.

The rain is still as relentless as ever, the skies dark and gloomy despite it being daytime. If it was any other day, Renjun would have already been out the door, making his way home. A regular eight-hour shift is already treacherous enough on it's own— an eight-hour shift with you, while it's raining, on top of that, has got to be one of the worst things that's ever happened to Renjun in a while, which says a lot considering he's literally living in the same timeline as Lee Donghyuck.

Renjun turns to steal a glance at you, no longer at his side as you busy yourself with doing the dishes. As if just now never happened, you're back to humming to yourself, the song only sounding vaguely familiar to his ears. The cup of tea you made him is left abandoned on the counter, and for a split second he feels guilty for having not accepting it earlier.

You see, it's not like Renjun hates you. He's just indifferent, and that makes a huge difference. He's someone who prefers to keep to himself, a concept that you can't seem to fathom for some reason, and he finds your overtly-positive attitude equal parts annoying and draining. Renjun doesn't hate you— he just hates everything you embody, and that's enough to make him stay away.

"Look what I found!"

The last time Renjun heard your voice has to be around a few hours ago, when he decided to move from the counter to one of the couches in the dining area. It wasn't the most ideal considering the floor-length windows still gave him the perfect view of rain that he hated so much, but his legs were beginning to hurt from standing for so long and he didn't really want to sit on the floor and deal with your small talk any longer.

You must have gotten the hint when you decided to leave him alone, retreating to the break room to do God-knows-what— based on the grin on your face now, Renjun has a feeling that he's going to find out very soon.

You bound towards him, settling next to him with something in your hands. Your eyes instantly land on the sketchbook on his lap, but before you could say anything, like utter out a compliment on his drawing, Renjun snatches the pad away from your sight.

"What?" He grunts, cheeks feeling slightly warm for some reason. He had abandoned his phone some time earlier, deciding to peruse his sketchbook to pass the time. It was a good thing he brought it out everywhere he went— as awful of a situation he's stuck in, at least he has something familiar to keep his sanity in check.

Your grin grows wider (Renjun wonders how that's even possible) before you set a box between the two of you.

"I was bored, right? So I figured I'd clean out the break room to pass the time, and I found this! Johnny must have left it here and forgot about it."

Renjun studies the blue box, the words HALLI GALLI staring back at him in bold, yellow font. Oh, hell no. You're the last person he wants to play a card game with— not just because you're you, but also the fact that he just doesn't fare well with games in general.

It's not like Renjun is bad at them— if anything, it's quite the opposite, but the last time he played Halli Galli, he had almost gotten into a fistfight with his friends (he had to receive a kiss penalty from Donghyuck even though he won because Mark kept making up rules as they went along). Needless to say, all their game nights now require the presence of a moderator (not like that has done much anyway considering Jaemin hates intervening in literally anything ever, so Renjun doesn't know why they still try).

"I'm not playing this with you."

"Aw, why not? It's fun! Even for serious people like you," you tease, but Renjun doesn't laugh. Ignoring him, you continue, "we could make the most of this quiet time together."

"Nothing about today has been quiet," Renjun mutters. He's pretty sure you heard him, but you simply brush it off as you open the box, letting the cards fall on the sofa while you place the bell in the middle.

Renjun huffs, knowing he isn't left with a choice. You're adamant, he realises, and even if he weren't to give in now, he knows he'd have to eventually, and he'd rather deal with this now than later on.

You start the game, putting down a card of two coconuts before you glance at Renjun, waiting for him to complete his turn. He does the same (albeit much less enthusiastic than you), his card flipping to the other side to reveal four strawberries.

The game continues on that way, with you practically at the edge of your seat as you anticipate every next move. You had just put down three bananas, and your eyes are fixed on Renjun's hands as he slowly flips his card to reveal... two bananas.

You yelp, palm quickly outstretching to hit the bell, and despite Renjun's obvious disinterest in the game (or so you thought), you're surprised to learn that he's just as quick, his hand clashing against yours as you fight to ring the bell at the same time.

"I definitely got that one!" You proclaim proudly, to which Renjun scoffs.

"No way, you're barely even on the bell!"

"Nuh-uh, look! Your hand is literally on top of mine!" You wriggle your fingers for good measure, causing Renjun to look down at your hand— both of your hands, which are still on the bell. You were right; while most of your palm is covering the bell, only the tips of his fingers are touching the metal surface, the rest of his skin resting idly on the back of your hand. He's never really noticed how tiny your hands are— it's not like he's that huge of a guy to begin with— and the thought somehow brings an unexplainable flush to his face.

He quickly removes his hand, carding through his deck for the sole purpose of having something to do before passing you a card. "You just got lucky," he mutters, clearing his throat.

You giggle. "No, I'm just that good," you sing, waving the card mockingly in front of his face before putting it together with your deck.

Renjun rolls his eyes. You remind him so much of Donghyuck; it's a wonder how he isn't your best friend.

"I used to play this game a lot when I was younger," you quip randomly in the midst of the next round. You do that a lot, Renjun realises, stating facts he didn't ask for when it gets too quiet. It used to leave him not knowing how to react, but if there's anything Renjun has learnt about you in this limited time you've spent together, is that you don't need a response from him to continue talking, so he doesn't say anything.

"I'm an only child, so visiting my grandparents in Jeju was the only time I'd get to hang out with my cousins. We'd do everything together— even stay up late and wake up early the next morning so no time would be wasted. It was a wonder how we never ran out of things to do," you chuckle to yourself, fiddling with the cards in your hand.

"One time, it started to rain super heavily— kind of like right now, actually— all while we were cycling outside. Instead of seeking shelter, we decided to play in the rain. We got home freezing our toes off and I fell sick the next morning, but it was so worth it. I wouldn't trade that moment for anything else," you trail off softly, and Renjun doesn't miss the twinge of longing in your voice. At this point, the game had been long abandoned, your attention now fixed on the rain outside and Renjun on you. You turn to him, the fond smile still playing on your lips, and that is what causes him to look away, only then realising that he had been staring.

"What about you?"

Renjun's brows knit in confusion. "Huh?"

"You don't seem to like the rain very much."

"Yes, because it inconveniences people. Kind of like the situation we're in right now, don't you think?" His tone comes off as a little snappy, but before Renjun could regret it, you're already beaming at him in response. He wonders if you're ever capable of any other emotion apart from happiness.

"Sure, but look at where it brought us! Two friends, bonding, towards becoming even better friends!"

Nevermind. He doesn't feel bad anymore, not when he remembers that this is who he's dealing with right now. Plus, the term friends is a little bit of a stretch, isn't it? He doesn't know anything about you apart from the fact that— well, you're an only child and that your grandparents live in Jeju. He doesn't even know your last name, and he'd like to think that that should be the minimum requirement before considering someone a friend.

He rolls his eyes as he lazily throws his last card, ready to wrap up the game, only to perk up when he sees his lone strawberry face-up with four of yours. Quickly, he reaches forward to ring the bell, grinning in triumph when he realises you hadn't gone head-to-head this time.

"A-ha! I win!" Renjun smirks proudly, too caught up in his victory to realise that he's smiling. It falters when he notices you staring at him— not in defeat, but something much... softer. It looks similar to when you were recounting your memories with your family in Jeju. It looks like Jaemin when he's scrolling through pictures of his three cats in his gallery. It looks like Mark... when he's on FaceTime with his girl whenever they do long-distance.

Suddenly, Renjun could no longer hear the rain thumping harshly against the window next to him. He could no longer see the lightning that comes in flashes, nor does he flinch at the thunder that follows. Only two words form in his head:

Oh, shit.

lee donghyuck [3:41pm] yowww 🔥🔥🔥 [3:53pm] r u alive? lol [4:02pm] wait no like actually r u???? [4:22pm] pls tell me ur sfae omg im gonna start sobbinf and cryin rn dont evne [4:46pm] HUANG RENJUN [5:12pm] NAWWW we really lost an angel today.... jun i hope ur looking up at us 🙏🙏🙏

huang renjun [5:24pm] UP???

lee donghyuck [5:24pm] oh hey lol [5:24pm] wyd

Renjun utters a curse under his breath as he switches to his phone app, bringing the device to his ear immediately after he dials Donghyuck's number. It rings twice before the boy picks up.

"Injun-ah!" Donghyuck's voice is hoarse— so he wasn't lying about being sick. That doesn't make Renjun any less annoyed, though. "I was so worried-"

"Cut the shit, Hyuck. Did you know?"

Donghyuck is silent before he replies, as though carefully choosing his next words. "... Know what?"

"That she likes me."

"That who likes- oh my God. Did she tell you already?" If it's even possible, Donghyuck's already-naturally nasally voice sounds even more annoying now that he's excited while sick.

"What?" Renjun hisses into his phone, glancing around the room to make sure he wasn't too loud. Granted, he's currently alone in the men's room and he's 90% sure you aren't outside eavesdropping, but he could never be too careful. "So it's true?"

"I mean, only because she was so fucking obvious," Donghyuck snickers before he breaks out into a fit of coughs. "I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."

Renjun groans. "How the hell was I supposed to know? She talks to everyone the same way!"

"Dude, have you seen the way she looks at you? It's like when Jaemin looks at Luke, Lucy, and Lu-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it, alright?" Renjun grumbles. "Shit, what should I do now?"

"Um, nothing? It's not like you're even supposed to know that she likes you," Donghyuck quips plainly. "Dude, why are you even freaking out? Wait- do you like her back?"

"No!" Renjun exclaims, a little too quick for his own liking. Maybe it's because he could practically see the teasing smirk on his friend's lips, or maybe it's just the suggestion that sounds so fucking absurd he had to shut it down immediately. "It's just- look, I've been nothing short of mean to her this entire time so I kinda feel bad, alright? Why would she even like me like that? I mean- is she some sort of masochist, or something?"

Donghyuck guffaws, clearly not about to let his embarrassing stuttering slide. "Okay? And why are you so worried? Since, you know, you don't like her like that and all."

"You're hopeless," Renjun mutters, not bothering to bid Donghyuck goodbye before he hangs up. He should've known that the boy is the last ever person he should seek advice from; Jaemin would have made for a better candidate.

But calling Jaemin now would only be suspicious, and Renjun knows it would only be a matter of time before you would knock on his door to ask if he's doing alright— because that's just who you are as a person.

Huh, maybe he does know you better than he thought.

Renjun has long given up hope that he'd be going home tonight. The thunderstorm is still as relentless as ever, the skies growing even darker now that the sun has set. The café is bathed in a warm light, and under a different circumstance he would've found it cozy.

You're situated behind the counter now, probably having moved there when he was in the restroom. Instead of going back to the couch, Renjun finds himself heading towards you. He doesn't know why.

"Forecast says the rain won't stop until morning." You don't look at him as you say this, and Renjun quickly notices the two cups of instant noodles you're currently busying yourself with, the rising steam swirling lazily in the air. You only turn to him once you're done mixing the noodles, a sympathetic smile on your face. "Looks like we'd have to stay the night."

"You sound oddly sad for someone who claims to love the rain." Against his better judgement, the words slip out of his mouth. Renjun thinks it must have something to do with his conversation with Donghyuck earlier, because why does he feel like he's being weird all of a sudden?

You merely shrug, handing one of the cups to him. This time, he accepts it, and Renjun tries not to flinch at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his.

"Well, I still do! If I could, I'd run outside right now and play in the rain, but the news just issued a lightning alert and I'd rather not risk getting struck, you know. Besides, staying inside isn't all that bad," you quip lightheartedly, a small grin on your face as you bring your chopsticks to your lips, blowing on your noodles lightly.

Renjun doesn't say anything, his brows only furrowing at your response. How is it that you're still so cheery even after everything that's happened? It's as though you didn't just find out that you're literally stranded here with no way home until the next morning.

The room illuminates momentarily when thunder strikes, and this time, Renjun does flinch. If he wasn't already holding on to his cup of noodles so tightly, it would have already spilled all over him. Clearly, you notice, and you don't look away quickly enough to act like you didn't.

"You know, I've learnt recently that a lightning bolt is only as wide as your thumb, but it could stretch on for miles," you say as you swallow your food, showing a thumbs-up as you grin at him playfully. "It's kind of crazy, right? How something so small could be so powerful?"

Renjun clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes momentarily. "Alright," he mutters, placing his cup on the counter. "Why do you keep doing that?"

You raise your brows, lowering your hand. "Doing what?"

"That. Every time it gets loud and I- I startle, you tell me some random fact, as if it's going to magically drown out the thunder."

"Well, it works, doesn’t it? It’s my secret technique to distract you! And think about it this way: every time it thunders, I get to share a cool tidbit with you. Like how lightning can strike the same place twice!”

"Yeah, because that makes me feel so much better," Renjun mumbles, though he finds that the edge in his voice has softened.

"Oh, relax." You roll your eyes jokingly. "Lightning only often hits tall structures like trees or skyscrapers, so you’re safe here with me.”

He scoffs. "Tall? Is that a jab?"

You gape, and you fear that you've struck a nerve within him. "N-No! I mean, I'm just saying! You're probably just not tall enough to worry about it, unless you're like, I don't know, Yao Ming or something," you start to ramble. "Even then, did you know that the tallest man in the world is a whole foot taller than him? I guess he would have a higher chance of getting struck by lightning, then, wouldn't he? Or not, considering, well, you know, he's dead. I don't-"

You're cut off when you feel a palm cover your lips, and your eyes widen at the contact. Renjun stares at you, unimpressed.

"You," he starts. "Talk too much. You know that?"

With his hand still over your mouth, you're unable to reply— even if it wasn't, you doubt you could, anyway. His skin against yours brings a warmth to your neck and cheeks, and you could only hope he couldn't see how bright red you're sure you are.

You nod your head slowly.

Renjun scoffs, finally dropping his hand as he glances to the window behind you. If you weren't already staring at him so intently, you would've missed the slight upturn of his lips. "Wow. So not only am I terrified of the storm, I'm short, too?" He shakes his head, half-amused.

"Hey, you said it, not me!" You exclaim defensively, feeling much more relieved now that you've seen him smile. You wonder if he's aware of how pretty his smile is. "Though for the record, I think you're the perfect height!" You pause, "f-for dodging lightning, of course!"

Renjun didn't like how the first half of your sentence made his heart beat faster. If only he were any closer, he'd hear your heart beating just as fast, too.

"You kids hang on tight, alright? There are blankets in the break room if you need them— and keep me updated!"

You've been in contact with your boss since the lockdown announcement hours ago, and despite your last message telling him that you and Renjun are alright, it seems that it's just in Johnny's nature to be overly-concerned as his worried face now flashes on your screen.

"We're alright, Boss, we promise!" You say for the umpteenth time. "This shop's stable enough to withstand a strike or two I'm sure, so we'll see you tomorrow morning!"

"Don't joke about that," Renjun hisses, nudging your arm with his elbow. He turns to the screen again. "We'll be sure to give you hourly updates."

At this, Johnny seems a little more at ease. You bid your boss goodbye, and the café soon falls into a silence, with only the humming of the lights and distant rumbling in the skies to keep you company.

"So... should we get ready for bed?" You ask, slapping your thighs as you stand up from the couch. For some reason, it feels awkward. You've long grown accustomed to Renjun and his lack of words, but somewhere along the way today, it seems that the air between you two has shifted— for better or for worst, you couldn't really tell— and you're not sure if you could salvage it.

You've always liked Renjun— of course you have— but today, it feels more impossible to contain your feelings with nobody else around. You like to think that you were good at hiding it all this while (despite what Donghyuck says), but right now, you're not so sure if you could spend a second longer with Renjun without accidentally blowing your own cover.

"I'll go grab the blankets," he says quietly, snapping you out of your reverie before ushering away to the break room. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, turning around to face the couch. Surely, your feelings could wait, because right now, there's only one thing that matters more: your sleeping arrangement.

You bend down to grab the couch by the armrest, pulling it further towards the middle of the dining area. With it being originally situated right by the window, you figure it wouldn't make for such an ideal (or safe) makeshift bed.

"What are you doing?"

You huff, returning to your original height to see Renjun by the door of the break room, a bundle of plaid blankets in his hands. He has a brow raised— you notice he does that a lot when looking at you— and you laugh meekly.

"Just, you know. Wouldn't wanna get struck by lightning, or anything like that."

He rolls his eyes (again, something he does a lot when it comes to you) as he makes his way towards you, letting the blankets fall on the sofa. "You can take the couch. Probably should lay one of these out first, though. Not sure how many butts have been on there."

Usually, you would have laughed at his comment, but this time, you find yourself tilting your head in confusion instead. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

Renjun shrugs. "The chair works fine for me."

You frown. Taking one of the blankets, you spread it out before letting the fabric fall over the couch. "The chair? There's no way you'd be comfortable like that! Look, the couch is big enough for the both of us. We'd have to stay seated, of course, but that's better than sleeping in a chair, right? Or would you rather we take turns?"

Renjun scoffs. "What? We're not in an apocalypse. There's no need for night watch."

Still, you stall, and it causes him to sigh. Renjun steps towards you, gently planting his hands on your shoulders before guiding you down onto the sofa. "Gosh, you're stubborn. Just take the couch, alright? It's not like I'm planning on sleeping, anyway."

The last part of his sentence comes out in a low murmur, but you still catch it.

"What do you mean you're not planning on sleeping?" You echo, and based on the flash of panic that crosses his face, you're sure he hadn't mean to let that one slip.

"I mean, with the storm and all," Renjun explains stiffly, glancing away. "I'm just saying, there's no way I'd be able to sleep with all that noise."

You gape slightly before your lips transform into a grin. "Could I interest you in another fun fact, then?"

Renjun groans loudly, and you find yourself giggling at his response. And when you hear the low chuckle that escapes his lips, you find your heart swelling at the sound of his laugh.

"Seriously, let's just share, alright? Look, I'll even stay up with you! I won't talk if you don't want me to, though."

Renjun finally gives in, sitting at the other end of the couch. "When has that ever stopped you?"

Noting the lack of bite in his voice, you grin. "Touché."

Eventually, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and for the first time in a while, you don't feel the need to make conversation. You've never been one to be able to stay quiet for very long; clearly, Renjun is someone who does, and today, you learn that it really isn't all that bad.

Renjun steals a glance towards you, but you have your eyes fixed on the rain outside, a small smile still tugged on your lips. It looks like you're watching a movie, the floor-length windows a giant movie screen, and the flashes of lightning the different scenes bouncing off your features. He must have missed the thunder that comes afterwards, only realising it when you turn to him with that stupid, pretty smile still on your lips.

"Uh," Renjun stutters, having been caught off-guard at the sudden eye contact. He quickly looks away. "You don't have to do this."

You tilt your head. "Do what?"

"Stay up with me. You should get some rest."

You laugh, and Renjun wonders if it's always sounded this beautiful. "Don't be silly! I don't mind. I know you're gonna chide me for saying this, but it's kinda nice. I can't remember the last time I stayed up to watch the rain," you pause before turning to him. "You're probably gonna hate me forever for making you endure both a thunderstorm and my chatter in one night," you say teasingly.

"That's not true," he says quietly, only belatedly hoping that you hadn't heard him. Clearing his throat, Renjun turns to his right where his messenger bag lies, taking out his sketchbook he had haphazardly stuffed inside earlier. He flips it open, feeling your curious eyes on him as he looks for the page he had been working on.

"The rain looks better on paper for me," he explains awkwardly. "You know, since we're on the topic of likes and dislikes."

Renjun feels you scoot towards him, and he hates that he could feel the warmth emitting from your side even despite the blanket that envelops your shoulders.

"That's so pretty," you say in awe as you study the drawing. Despite it being so simple, nothing but a rough sketch of a window pane covered with rain drops, you still find yourself marvelling at the intricacy of it all. You could barely even write a whole essay legibly, yet here Renjun is, crafting a whole masterpiece with nothing but a blue ballpoint pen. "I wish I had an ounce of your talent. You're amazing, Renjun."

Even though he's no stranger to getting compliments for his works, it somehow feels different coming from you. It's probably because of how intimate it is— you and him, cramped on a couch in a barely-lit café with your arm pressing into his side— that's all there is to it, right?

But as he turns to you, taking in the stars that seem to dance in your eyes and the pink hue that dusts your cheeks even in the dark, Renjun starts to wonder if maybe, it's more than that. If maybe, the way his heart is stuttering isn't because of the setting, but you— only you.

With the way Donghyuck's question from earlier still plays in the back of his head like a broken record, Renjun knows that it's the truth.

✦ ✦ ✦

With it being late into the night, the two of you lapse into silence, too tired to keep a conversation going, but still very much awake— as though under an unspoken agreement to not fall asleep.

The rain has reduced significantly and the thunder has lessened, nothing but an occasional low rumble in the distance, but every now and then you'd still feel Renjun tensing from next to you.

“You know, statistically, you’re more likely to get struck by lightning than win the lottery,” you mumble sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Renjun lets out a soft chuckle. “Comforting,” he replies, though there’s no real edge to his voice. “So, basically, I’m doomed.”

“Not while I’m here,” you say through a yawn. “Consider me your good luck charm.”

Renjun shakes his head, but there’s a softness in his expression now, something warm and unspoken passing between you. The couch creaks slightly as you both shift to get more comfortable. Your cheek brushes slightly against his arm, but Renjun doesn't pull away. In your half-conscious state, you barely feel his arm circle behind you, pulling you closer towards him as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder.

"Then I guess I'd have to keep you around for every storm."

Click.

That's the sound you wake to, the sun that hits your eyelids being the second thing to rouse you from your slumber. You stir, your cheek brushing against something soft that only makes you want to sleep even more, but the sound of suspicious giggling causes you to open your eyes.

Your bleary vision lands on Donghyuck, who's currently standing before you with a cheshire-like grin, his phone in his hands.

"Don't you two look cozy?" He coos, tapping on his screen once more before his phone produces another click.

Finally registering what's happening, you jolt awake, only belatedly realising the oh-so-soft material to be Renjun's clothed chest. You must have fallen asleep on him sometime during the middle of the night, and you can't figure out what's more embarrassing: that, or the fact that Donghyuck has proof of said... intimacy.

"Lee Donghyuck! You better not post that!" You yelp, jumping off the couch to reach for his phone, only to fail as he waves his arm in the air, cackling manically.

Renjun finally stirs at the noise. “What’s going on?” he mumbles groggily, only to frown when he registers what you and Donghyuck are doing.

You whip to turn to Renjun, almost tripping in the process, throwing him an apologetic glance. “N-Nothing! Just- uh, a little misunderstanding!”

Donghyuck lowers his arm, tongue poking out of his lips as he types rapidly on his phone. “Oh, I’m definitely sharing this. Aw, you two are so adorable!”

Renjun groans. "Fuck off, Hyuck, seriously." He stands up, picking up his bag before stuffing all his belongings inside. "Ignore him. Let's go."

You giggle, your own embarrassment seeping away when you realise just how flustered he is. "Renjun, wait-"

"Nope, not waiting," he mutters, the tip of his ears noticeably pink as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "We're leaving before this asshole gets anymore material." He shoots Donghyuck a glare, who only waves a hand mindlessly.

"I may be an asshole, but at least I'm not delusional. Seriously, guys, it's painful watching you pretend like you're not into each other!" He cries dramatically, and Renjun's eyes widen before he forces another warning stare to his friend.

"Thanks for the unsolicited advice, Hyuck," he mutters, hoping his voice didn't waver too much, before quickly grabbing your arm and leading you to the door. "We're leaving."

"Have a good day, lovebirds!" Donghyuck sings, and Renjun flashes him a middle finger with his free hand without turning around.

You couldn't help but to laugh as you let him drag you out to the sidewalk, the cold outside air hitting your skin for the first time since yesterday. It's no longer raining, but the streets are still wet from the overnight storm, and it helps in cooling your own burning cheeks.

Renjun finally releases you when you're a little further away from the café, turning to face you with a sigh. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbles, his cheek still painted red, and you wonder how it's possible for him to be this cute, grumpiness and all.

"It's okay." You bite your bottom lip to suppress a grin, and Renjun smiles at you weakly.

There's a moment of silence between you two before Renjun clears his throat awkwardly. "He's right, you know?"

"Hm? About what?" You ask, slightly taken aback by his sudden soft tone.

Renjun shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his voice quiet. “About… me being into you. Wait, that came out weird." He stumbles over his words, and you merely beam at him as you give him time to compose himself.

"It's just— I know I haven't been the nicest to you, and I know it may sound crazy, but I had this whole revelation yesterday that I do have feelings for you— and I promise this isn't just a fleeting thing because of the storm— I genuinely think you're really cool."

You don't say anything, only a soft smile playing on your lips, and that causes Renjun to panic.

"I mean, I know I've been a jerk to you, and I know this isn't an excuse, but I just didn't know how to-"

You cut him off by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, effectively halting his words. His mouth hangs open slightly, eyes wide as he stares at you in disbelief, his face flushing.

When you pull back, you couldn't help but laugh softly at his stunned expression. “You're rambling,” you tease with a playful smile.

He coughs out a small laugh. "Yeah, sorry. Guess I was." The smile stays on his face this time as he meets your eyes. "So... does that mean you're not compelled to the idea of going on a date with me?"

"Nope. Not at all." You rock between your heels and toes, already feeling the excitement bubbling in your chest. You like to think that you're doing a much better job at keeping your composure, but you're sure anyone could see just how bright red you are. "I think I'd really like that, actually."

Renjun's eyebrows raise before his expression eases into one of relief, and for the first time, a large smile graces his lips. You think you might just have a new favourite thing now— one that easily tops the rain.

"Yeah? Good. Because I think I'd really like that, too."

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Two

This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!

Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.

Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)

----

Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?

You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.

The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."

"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"

Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.

Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.

Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."

After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."

And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.

Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"

Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.

He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.

He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.

"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"

"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."

Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.

"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."

----

The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.

She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."

"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.

"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."

With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."

The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.

Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.

He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.

When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"

"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.

"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."

With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.

Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.

His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.

Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.

A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:

"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone

Guy: Fuck off, Munson

Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"

Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.

When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.

"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."

Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.

In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.

And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.

So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.

And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.

Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.

It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.

He's hopeless.

He's desperate.

He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.

----

For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.

So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.

As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.

"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.

Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.

"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.

"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."

Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?

Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."

Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.

It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.

"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.

And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.

Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."

There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.

Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"

Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.

Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?

Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.

----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

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[visenyaism]

hi visenyaism, sorry i know this is mainly an asoiaf blog but I loved your literacy & kids in school analysis and i had a question. idk if you're familiar with the "male flight" from college substack article making the rounds on tumblr (tldr: the author takes the thesis of this sociological paper that men stopped enrolling in vet school once women enrollment hit 60% and suggests that it could explain why men's enrollment in college generally has fallen bc women's enrollment has now hit that 60% threshold & men, or well, straight men, want to avoid anything deemed too feminine) and I was wondering if you've also noticed that men / boys tend to devalue going to college and generally had any thoughts on this phenomenon?

Hm. Here’s the article if you haven’t read it:

I agree with her about a lot. I think a lot of it really is that we beat into young girls’ heads from the start that you need to work hard and become financially and professionally independent because of you don’t you will be dependent on and taking care of a man forever. But boys are way more likely to get the “don’t worry you will find someone to take care of you no matter what it is what you deserve” message. I have noticed a rise of this anti-college intellectualism particularly in young men that it is a scam and that even if you get a job, it’s gonna be like the beginning of fight club where it’s like super emasculating to do that because you’re following the system. 

I can tell you it’s a common phenomenon in high schools that honors classes are disproportionately female and standard level classes are disproportionately male. Some of it is just outperformance (which I think is the aforementioned messaging difference and also just because I think we hold young women to a higher standard academically and behaviorally and they react accordingly.) I have talked to male students who have insinuated that performing well in school is kind of girly because it’s like being submissive.

The messaging facing young men that going to college is overrated because that kind of 9-to-5 white collar job you’re supposed to get as a result is inherently kind of feminine or cuck or beta or whatever is common. Of the group of students not going to college after they graduate I think girls are in my experience more likely to have a plan like they’re joining the military or they’re going to trade school or they’re going to community college or taking a year off. Whereas boys Are more likely to have that mentality that they’re gonna become an influencer or a day trader or crypto whatever or a twitch streamer because that’s more alpha than following the system. I think a lot of our anti-intellectualism in society is a result of this messaging that going to college is now girly.

What I really hate is when people point at high levels of women enrolling in college as evidence that the system is rigged in favor of women which has never been true and is not true currently. I feel like “male flight” is not a complete answer, but it is definitely more comprehensive of an explanation than a lot of the other ones I’ve heard.

[dead-boys-club]

†  kisses : shigaraki.

❥ scenario: kissing tomura. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested! it is a whole mess.

❥ series: tomura - izuku

✧*̥˚ some stuff *̥˚✧

tomura comes off as a rather aloof person; someone with many walls and deep rooted trust issues. so, if you're kissing me, we can already assume your relationship to him is one build over a good amount of time. it would be a very, very intensely personal experience for him. he's not used to physical touch by any means, so it would put him in an almost awkward mindset. he probably wouldn't fully know how to process being so.. ( god, i use this word a lot, i'm sorry ) vulnerable and close.

kissing him would be soft and slow. he would be hesitant, like you were something fragile, also trying not to fuck something up. he's navigating something new, so it would take time for him to get the hang of it. and, it would make him smile - which is a feat all in it's own. he would show you this small, gentle smile; a genuine expression of warmth and adoration that's incredibly rare.

i can't even put into words how soft this man would be over kisses. and, he's not going to be picky once he gets the hang of it. he would really, really enjoy:

moth kisses

forehead kisses

jaw kisses

slow make out sessions

in the beginning, he would ( idk, is this surprising? ) not be in control of shit. he would actually hand the reigns over to you and enjoy the ride.

the thing is, he's a really good kisser???? because any time he kisses you, he's kissing you like it's the very last time. he's got a hand on the back of your neck, fingers settled against when your hair stops, just.. drowning in the intimacy of the moment. his other hand gripping onto your shirt at your side - he'd have hell letting go.

he's obsessed. and, honestly, unless he's in a foul mood, it's the best way to distract or help him feel better. though, i should add, i feel as though he'd become just a tad bit clingy towards you once you made it to this level of intimacy.

if i keep going, i'm going to go down a rabbit hole of trapping him on the couch and kissing him til neither of you can breathe, SO - i'm going to slide down into a scenario.

���*̥˚ tiny things *̥˚✧

❥ moth kisses: ( so, do you remember the last time we actually saw him play a game? no? me either but- ) moth kisses are mostly to attempt to annoy him, which.. may only actually work once or twice. the type of kisses you give when interrupting him. when you just cup his face and kiss all over, quickly, not giving him a chance to do anything about it.

❥ forehead kisses: god, please, give him forehead kisses. he really appreciates them in the morning or before bed, the way you brush his hair aside and linger for a moment. i feel like this is a gesture that really makes him understand that you're there for a reason. and you're genuine.

❥ jaw kisses: when he's working on things, you generally know better than to fuck with him too much. so, as you're tucked up beside him, that's when you nose and press little kisses to his jaw. you try not to jostle him too much.

❥ temple kisses +: this is more of something he does for you. because it starts as temple kisses, his eyes closed as he layers kisses over the spot for a few seconds. he'll slowly move down until he's nosing at the spot behind your earlobe, either humming or whispering little things. very much a private moment that no one else sees.

❥ the aforementioned slow make outs: usually when this happens, he's either tired or it started because he was in a shit mood. he likes how it starts as just small kisses and then turns into closing his eyes, lungs clenching, need building but it's still going so slowly, it's nearly killing him.

❥ the one time you almost died: because it was in the middle of a fight. it wasn't your fault that when you caught his gaze, you both seemed to stop. however, when you plant an unexpected kiss on his lips before disappearing into the fray once more, he's briefly distracted and a little agitated. you were being reckless but fuck if he didn't continue on with wanting more of you.

✧*̥˚ first kiss *̥˚✧

withdrawn.

that was somewhat normal but he seemed even further gone than usual. his responsibilities and the pressure on his shoulders, it was starting to wear on him and you could see it. the way he sank into the arm chair, picking at the hem and staring off into space. it wasn't something you enjoyed seeing.

you shift from your spot by the doorway, approaching to settle on the armrest of his chair, lifting his hand into your hold. a few minutes past in silence, neither of you feeling the need to say anything. you could see some sense of helplessness behind his eyes, making you frown and squeeze his hand. he didn't pull away despite how he flinched, fingers curling into the touch.

'tomura..' you said softly, not really know what could be said in the moment, considering he'd never done too well with encouraging talk. 'i'm here, you know?'

it took him a second before his head turned, guarded expression briefly flickering to give way to something softer. he didn't say anything, gratitude seen in his gaze. it wasn't hard to identify the conflict going on behind his eyes, something you knew you couldn't do much to fix or aid in. the most you could do was attempt to distract.

you didn't think about it too much, or at all, when you began to lean closer, the distance between you shrinking quicker than your mind could keep up. you were really leaning far too close into the personal space of one of the most dangerous men you knew and couldn't really stop. your heart felt like it was in your throat the moment your lips pressed against his own. the kiss was tender and hesitant, lasting only for a moment.

when you pulled back, you weren't sure how to act. his eyes were slightly wide with bewilderment, frozen and free hand anchoring him to reality with it's grip to the armchair. 'why...?' he began, barely above a whisper, not trusting his voice. you could hear the confusion, clear as day, but beneath it - there was something else. the smallest note of longing.

his voice completely erased the mild panic that had grown and you just smiled, light and careful. 'because you matter to me? because i adore you. and, i want to be there for you.. in any way that i can be.'

you weren't expecting to make a confession and he surely wasn't expecting to receive one. thankfully, he didn't respond to that. 'thank you,' was all he managed to get out, taking in the words and warmth that spread through him at the kiss.

the room fell quiet once more, though the atmosphere shifted into something new. there was a newfound understanding created from the simple, yet profound, moment of intimacy.

and, it would only grow from that moment on.

[gatheredfates]

How To Win Friends and Influence People: Dawntrail Edition ☀️

I swear the title is a joke.

Listen, we all know I'm one to furiously and viscously encourage people to venture outside their box and meet people, and today is no different! With the launch of Dawntrail, we're likely to see a lot of cool new people in the community, so these are a couple of affirmations I employ to myself when reaching out. Feel free to use them to your benefit!

That little voice telling you the person will think you're annoying is probably a liar. In all the time I have reached out to people in this community, I have never once heard a complaint about being annoying, overbearing or too much. As long as you're not inappropriate, respect boundaries and go in with pure intentions, it is likely to be reciprocated.

If people don't want to interact with you, that is their loss. Rejection sucks, but you cannot let the fear of it rule your intentions. Don't hyper-fixate on the loss; simply block (if needed) and move on. Not only will you foster healthy relationships with people who reciprocate your efforts, you will avoid drama by respecting and enacting your own boundaries. Trust me when I say this will improve your whole experience.

You don't need to message people right away! Start by leaving nice tags on their gposes, writing, etc.; make conversation and comment on their posts. Work up to a message first if you're shy.

I don't know what kind of comment to leave, you say? Easy! Find one thing about what they've done that you like. For example, I'm often like 'wow the x colouring in this is amazing! i love how it makes the character pop'! It shows engagement with their work beyond the superficial. Trust me, when i get these kinds of tags, it makes my day.

Remember you get out of a community what you put into it. If you have a cool idea for a space/event/roleplay concept, promote it! If you think your character's story would bolster another persons', offer to write with them! Reach out to other places with similar or adjacent concepts and see if you can work together. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so they say.

If it's within your blog's scope, reblogging other people's outreach posts/commissions/gposes/etc is a great way to engage with the community in a low-stakes way. If you need to make a sideblog for promotional stuff, do it! I prefer tags, personally, but you do you. The more approachable you look, the more people are going to contact you first.

Befriend people because you earnestly want to get to know them. "Popularity" is a farce. There are amazingly talented people who have a small group of friends because they're shy.

Eat food, drink water and take your medication before you do any of the aforementioned. Actually, just cover all those basis before you do anything. If you start dooming and glooming your efforts, have a nap (trust me, it worked for me last night!).

A couple of things to keep in mind on the other side:

You are not obligated to reciprocate someone's efforts.

"No." Is a full sentence. It's always preferable to be kind, but know your worth.

If that shit don't stick, hit da bricks!! You can leave!!

Always try to assume the best intentions of people.

Tools of moderation are not drama-mongering or nasty; they simply tailor your experience to what you want to see/experience. You don't need to justify your reasonings, you don't need to explain yourself to anyone; block and move on!! You don't need to make a big deal about it.

If anyone has anything else they want to add, please do! But this how I operate and it's never done me a disservice. ✨

[platoniclace]

You Ever Have Those Realizations?

You're just sitting, doing your thing, maybe reading, and suddenly, you are hit in the face with the steel baseball bat of epiphany. You have now realized why you love that one character *so much.*

Yeah, so anyways, I was reading Uncanny Spider-Man last night, as you do, because I was curious about this little mini-series. Overall, not a bad series. A little rushed, but ah well. A little odd, too, but this is X-Men; what isn't a little odd? Not the point, though. Here I was reading when I got to this panel:

And, okay, ow. Were the writers of this comic present in my therapy session yesterday?

Needless to say, alongside this panel appeared the aforementioned steel baseball bat.

To the face.

(but not the groin, that's a different metaphor of mine that doesn't quite fit here)

But it just hit me all at once. Kurt is a character that's been beaten down by life in more ways than one. He's tried, he's tried *a lot,* and he has great reason to be angry or bitter or resentful. It would make complete sense for a character like him to hit a point and give up entirely, and his rant here about deserving to stop really hits home.

And yet he's none of those things. He absolutely has his moments (like above), but who doesn't? Overall, Kurt's character is consistently depicted as someone full of hope, someone who tries to see the best, who clings to his faith and keeps pushing forward because he believes it's all ultimately worth it. And good Lord if I don't feel that. I just got done telling my therapist how I'm just so tired, how I want it all to stop, how I want to stop putting on that brave face and pushing on like a good little soldier. And yet here I am praying to God Almighty for strength to keep going because He definitely knows I have none left.

Anyways, all this to say, I love Nightcrawler a lot for quite a few different reasons, and I'm quietly talking myself off the cliff of immediately tattooing this furry elf onto my body with money I don't have.

Have a lovely day, friend :)

P.S. Extra Kurt panel that I also vibe with 1000% as a reward for reading my little ramble

[howtofightwrite]

Was reading through your torture tag and noticed a lot of stuff that was being said seemed to contradict things that were said on the scripttorture blog... do you have any suggestions on how to clear things up? Im not sure which things to trust

And you're asking us, because they've posted once in the last two years?

I'll admit, I have a fairly low opinion of them, and that's not directly their fault. For years, one of their fans, would regularly send some pretty incendiary asks our way. In fact, some of the less hostile ones were answered, and may be the posts you were looking at. Understandably, the ones simply accusing us of being torture apologists, demanding we redirect all our asks to their blog, or insisted that we should sit down and shut up, did not make the cut. With that in mind, please understand, I'm not going to go digging through their blog to refresh my memory, so some of this might be slightly skewed by the aforementioned deranged fan.

Look for the blog that does not constantly contradict or misrepresent their authoritative sources. Which is to say, if you actually pay attention to Shane O'Mara's work, it's basically what we've been saying all along.

If you're unfamiliar, O'Mara is a Neurologist who was (last I time I checked) working at Trinity College Dublin. He published a, frankly fascinating piece, called, Why Torture Doesn't Work, in which, he set about trying to answer why torture is an ineffective tool for intelligence gathering. O'Mara also had the misfortune of being the only expert who said anything close to the perspective Scripttorture wanted on torture.

An open secret about torture is that it is completely worthless for getting accurate information. This has been widely understood for centuries, if not millennia. O'Mara's question was, “why?”

It turns out, that the neurochemical trauma associated with torture, seriously interferes with your ability to accurately access information. For example: If you're being tortured, you can't tell your torturer where you planted the ticking bomb, because your brain literally can't access those memories.

Torture is evil. Yeah. No shit.

And, this is where ScriptTorture stops. “Torture is bad,” and Jack Bauer is an incredibly unrealistic fantasy, end of story.

Except, this is not the end of this.

Now, generally speaking, I don't blame anyone who wants to get off the ride here. Torture is an unpleasant subject, and wanting to stop at, “oh, it's evil,” is entirely reasonable... unless you want to write on the subject, or if you do political analysis and need to understand why people break out the torture implements.

More than that, this is where my academic background in political science actually comes into play. I'm not saying this as an Eagle Scout who had a couple overly enthusiastic hand to hand instructors when I was a kid. This is (part of) what I studied in college, and I have kept an eye on it since then.

If torture didn't work, you wouldn't see state-sponsored torture pop up repeatedly throughout history. It would not be one of the favorite tools of dictators and despots. However, because it does, and it is, simply saying, “it doesn't work,” isn't instructive or meaningful because it's clearly untrue. Someone is finding value in this, so it becomes important to understand what they are doing, and why they are doing it.

When you torture someone, the information they provide is basically madlibs of whatever leaked through their brain. They want the pain and stress to stop, and they'll say anything they can to make that happen. That often takes the form of what they think their torturer wants to hear. O'Mara's research does explain why they don't simply cough up the truth.

So, why do it?

Torture is a very labor intensive process. You (as an individual) can't, realistically, torture multiple victims at a time, and it is a very drawn out process. Some elements can be automated, your torturer doesn't need to be present at every moment, but they're going to spend hours, if not days, working on one victim. Worse, this is actually a technical profession. It's not like you can just pull in anyone off the street and get the results you want. (Though, technically, this doesn't seem to be as true, however, amateurs do have a shocking capacity to screw up torture. So, the point remains valid.)

The value of torture has almost nothing to do with the victim. It's about the message it sends to everyone else.

Torture is about mass coercion of the population. When you are the state (meaning, the government), and you torture someone, you are telling your citizens that you are willing to do the same to them, if they oppose you.

State-sponsored torture is specifically a tool to suppress political engagement. It is, quite literally, state-sponsored, domestic terrorism.

This even holds true in cases where the state employs torture to extract confessions from criminal suspects. The message sent into the general population is that dissent of any kind will not be tolerated, and that the state has the willingness and power to turn these tools on you if you draw their ire.

I get that this is outside of ScriptTorture's area of expertise, and in fairness, I probably would not have studied this with any intensity, if I hadn't taken multiple classes on revolutionary theory.

Torture from private organizations (which is to say, organized crime, and religious institutions, though cults and some other groups might fit this description as well), follows roughly similar patterns. These tend to do the same things, discouraging dissent, and establishing the organization as having power over the population (or community.) (The technical term would be to “establish capacity.” Which is to say, the organization's capacity to enforce its will. The same term applies to states, though in those cases, the state's capacity is often overestimated by its population. It's only when it starts to falter, for example through military defeats or serious civil unrest, that they really need the capacity boosting part of this equation.)

Zealotry or stupidity can create situations where you have a torturer (or, more likely, someone in a position of power ordering the torture) who believes that it is effectively compelling the truth from the victim. This (or amateurs) can easily lead into a distinct problem, which is that all of this has diminishing returns. Torture one person, and you send a loud, clear message. Torture ten, and all you've added to it is that you're willing to keep going. However, as you start stacking up the victims, you do start sending a new message to your enemies, that being, you're going to get to them sooner or later so it's in their best interest to respond now, mobilize and retaliate proactively, before you get to them. This means that a state which leans heavily on torture can easily instigate the civil unrest that exposes their limited capacity leading to a political death spiral. Alternately, if the state does have the capacity to put down the resulting unrest, it further reinforces their position (which does happen with depressing frequency in the real world.)

You're also going to create new enemies in the friends, family, and loved ones, of the people you tortured. This means that any organization that relies on extensive use of torture will, eventually, start tying a noose around its own neck. (Granted, there are a lot of social dynamics that I'm skimming over here, so it's not exactly as simple as “if the state tortures lots of people, it will result in increasing unrest.”)

If you want a partial citation for the above, you can (ironically) find it in a podcast interview with Shane O'Mara, when he explained why torture has been employed repeatedly through history. (Specifically I think it was episode 15 of Your Welcome, by Michael Malice. Though, I'm not 100% sure off hand.) Though that doesn't cover some of the more in depth elements I just discussed. Some of this is coming from a textbook on revolutionary theory I can't locate (it disappeared in a move a few years back.) Though that was more interested in the general structure of a state destabilizing into internecine conflict. Ironically, my preferred citation on torture, Fear up Harsh by Tony Lagouranis is mostly uninformative in this case, because his experiences were on the ground, rather than from a structural understanding of what his job was really doing. However, he does illustrate my comment about amateurs making even more of a mess, both through personal experiences with a few, and also through the eventual trajectory of the invasion and occupation of Iraq.

But of course, torture is evil... again, no shit. Was that really a question? And, I'm apparently a torture apologist for having a structural understanding of why evil people do evil things. Cool. Evil people don't do evil things because they're evil, they do them because they gain some tangible benefit from those acts, and they do not care about the consequences to anyone else. If you ask someone, “why do people do this?” and their answer is, “it's simple; they're evil,” that person is lying. They may be lying to themselves, but they are lying to you.

Why do people use torture? It's a lot more complicated, and unpleasant, than you'd expect at a simple overview.

-Starke

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[exceptionimagines]

Out with the Old, In with the New

(Not my gif)

- Everything was perfect when you and your boyfriend first moved in together. A new house, a good job, a partner you were convinced you were going to spend the rest of your life with. You were finally starting to feel like an actual grown up. ...It was just a shame you were the only one who seemed to stay that way....

- Your boyfriend was never a freeloader; he never made you pay more than your fair share, but it wasn't anything monetary that you ever had to worry about. It was everything else that seemed to fall apart the longer the two of you were together. The chores, the quality time, the romance: it all seemed to drain out of him the minute the two of you started living together and now, almost a year later, you just sort of feel stuck.

- You know you can leave; everyone knows that they can leave, but what happens if or when you do? You push aside any remaining feelings you have for the man that you've loved for years in the hopes that you'll find the perfect man in his absence? You uproot your entire life on the off chance that things could be better?

- No. No, you just can't do that. At the end of the day, you convince yourself that things are fine, that no relationship is perfect and that you're comfortable; that comfortable is a hell of a lot better than being single and regretful. You convince yourself that you're happy and that he's never treated you badly: if he had, you'd actually have a reason to leave. There are times you wish he had….

- You suppose you get your wish once Jerry Dandridge moves in next door....

- Your neighborhood is full of empty houses, so it's no surprise when you catch sight of a realtor pulling into the driveway next to yours. You watch out the window as they victoriously plaster a "sold" sticker onto the for sale sign which has occupied the manicured lawn for months on end. A multitude of cars, moving vans, and dumpsters follow in their wake as the weeks go by, entering and exiting your quiet suburb in preparation for the new arrival.

- Your boyfriend doesn't seem all that interested in the subject; always just distractedly humming in acknowledgement whenever you bring it up. Which is why you're a little taken aback when you see him talking to an unfamiliar stranger after getting home from work one day.

- The aforementioned stranger is introduced to you as your new neighbor, Jerry. The two of you shake hands and spark up a conversation about how long you've been in the area before your boyfriend abruptly interrupts, excusing you for dinner as you glance at him somewhat scoldingly. Yet, the rudeness of the interaction seems lost on Jerry as he simply smiles at you, welcoming you to come by if you ever need anything and watching as your boyfriend hurriedly ushers you towards your front door.

"You didn't notice anything weird about him?" Your boyfriend, Ben, questions once you get inside, goading you into agreeing with him as he watches you make dinner.

“Even if he was being a little weird, it’s probably just because he’s so new in town. It’s always awkward meeting new people, isn’t it?” You try to insist, wanting to give the man you’re going to be living next door to the benefit of the doubt.

“He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to be awkward.” Ben grumbles.

- Jealousy, you decide after hearing his petulant comment. Your boyfriend is jealous of your new, conventionally attractive neighbor and doesn’t want you spending too much time with him. Funny how that ugly little emotion is one of the few things that's stayed consistent about him over the years.

- Alas, against your better judgement, you decide to be a good girlfriend and agree to keep your distance, though you do warn him that you aren’t going to be rude and actively avoid him. You figure that you won’t be seeing much of Jerry anyway: he seems like a busy guy, and you’re a busy girl. Even if you’re neighbors, how often will you run into him long enough to hold an actual conversation?

- Unfortunately or fortunately for you; depending on how you look at it, Jerry seems intent on becoming your friend. He seems to always be outside whenever you return home from work, and since you refuse to treat your innocent neighbor like a registered sex offender, you return his hellos and stop to speak with him a little whenever he starts a conversation.

- You find out that he works nights, which explains his seemingly odd sleeping schedule, and as much as you want to deny it, you also start to see how your boyfriend could find him a little strange. Jerry is intense, somewhat blunt and to the point yet also suggestive at the same time. He picks up on little things that most people wouldn’t notice or put two and two together on, giving off the impression that he knows things that he realistically shouldn’t. You still think your boyfriend is being a little dramatic when he insists that there’s “something off about him”, especially since Jerry has been nothing besides neighborly and sweet.

- You try to be a good girlfriend, but it’s getting increasingly difficult. Jerry is charming, and he’s helpful to boot, and you know what? You’re lonely! Your boyfriend is hardly ever home and, even when he is, he’s rarely spending time with you, and he’s certainly not helping around the house.

- You don’t go out of your way to invite Jerry into your home. You actively avoid it for as long as possible, even when he asks to borrow something and stands lingering in your doorway while you go to retrieve it. You reason to yourself that it’s crossing a line, that you shouldn’t be inviting a man into your home when your boyfriend isn’t around; especially one he doesn’t even like you talking to.

- But when he offers to fix something for you that your boyfriends been putting off dealing with for months, you just can’t help but accept his offer. It starts off with him fixing something in your car, then it’s the squeaky hinges on your door, your kitchen sink, your AC unit, your misaligned shelf, etc. It gets to the point where your boyfriend starts to notice that things have been remedied, and you’re forced to admit that Jerry was over.

- He doesn’t like it, but you insist that you’re not going to pay someone hundreds of dollars to fix something if your neighbor is willing to do it for a couple of beers. Ben insists that you should have told him to do it instead, and you simply inform him that you have. He doesn’t have much to say about it after that and neither do you: you’re tired, but when you go to bed that night, you find yourself struggling to sleep.

- Half of it is frustration and half of it is guilt. Frustration because your boyfriend is being completely irrational and has been so unreliable that you’re beginning to depend on your neighbor more than your actual partner. That you’ve become more like Bens' mother than his girlfriend, and that the only time when you’re being taken care of is when Jerry is over….

- And guilt because you’re allowing Jerry to take care of you. That you’re finding yourself wondering what it would be like to be with him instead. That you’re finding yourself being drawn to him, being attracted to him, being flustered by him. You know that you shouldn’t be having these types of feelings for anyone but Ben; anyone but your boyfriend, but you just can’t help it.

- But frustration always wins over all of your guilt because your boyfriend doesn’t know any of that. He has no idea about the depths of your feelings for the man, but he does know that you’ve struggled to make friends ever since you’ve moved here, and that you’re finally receiving said friendship in the form of your neighbor. When he insists that you should stay away from him, it’s simply because he’s being jealous and controlling. You can understand the fact that he’s jealous, he’s allowed to be, but he isn’t allowed to limit your friendships. He should trust you not to betray him by acting on them. He should know that you would never do that to him.

- Maybe that’s why you spitefully agree to finally come inside the next time Jerry invites you in. Why you find yourself sitting in his living room watching Desperate Housewives; of all things, while you nurse a cold beer, pushing your boyfriend and the usual time he gets home out of your mind. That you spend hours in that room, talking more and more, drinking more and more, until it’s late in the evening and your boyfriend texts you asking where you are.

- You text him “at Jerry’s” and in a matter of minutes he’s knocking on the door, ushering you out angrily as Jerry simply smiles and assures him nothing happened while helping you with your things. Your boyfriend ignores him, standing in the doorway and glaring at you as you thank Jerry for having you over, tipsily hugging him before your boyfriend physically pulls you out of the house.

- He’s hushed when he tells you that “this” is never happening again: that he’s not allowed in your house anymore, that you’re not talking to him anymore, that you’re not even gonna acknowledge him anymore; that he's dangerous and that you just have to trust him on this. Once you’re in the house, he orders you to go to bed, something you do without much of an argument, whining petulantly that nothing even happened as you drag your feet towards the bathroom. You settle into an empty bed once you’re finished getting ready and fall asleep in a matter of minutes.

- When you wake up the next morning, the bed is still empty. When you look out the window, your boyfriend's car is gone from the driveway, so you just figure that he’s gone off to work early and begin your usual day off routine, nursing a mild hangover in the process. It’s only when he doesn’t return home at his usual time that you finally start to worry. You try to text him, but you get no reply, so you figure that he's either out with some friends or staying late at work, something that isn't completely out of the ordinary. Because of this, you decide to wait until tomorrow before you take any drastic measures.

- Jerry meets you in your driveway the next day, somewhat jokingly apologizing for getting you in trouble with your boyfriend. You laugh a little and insist that it’s not his fault, but since he brought him up himself, you decide to ask if he saw Ben go anywhere the night you left his house. He tells you that he’s not sure but that he thinks he left again not too long after the two of you went inside. He asks if everything’s alright, and you confess that you aren’t sure, explaining everything that’s happened.

- He comforts you before the two of you say goodbye, assuring you that he’s sure everything will be fine, that Ben is probably just blowing off some steam somewhere. He tells you to have a good long talk with him once he comes back; not if, and that he shouldn’t just up and run away like that if he has a problem, that it isn’t right.

- You get a text later that night from Bens' phone, telling you that he’s at a friends and that he won’t be back, that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. You ask him what’s wrong and question whether this whole thing is because you were with Jerry for a couple of hours, if it’s because you got a little drunk with someone you considered a friend. You insist that nothing happened, but you don’t receive an answer.

- As the days go by, Ben never comes home. The last text you receive from him is a short message that tells you he’s done, that you can do whatever you want with his things and that he doesn’t care. That he isn’t coming home and that he isn’t interested in talking things out. You furiously text him back trying to figure out what the hell is going on, but as the hours pass with no response, you simply come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend is not at all the person that you thought he was. You just count your lucky stars that you have a good enough job to afford a cheap house all on your own.

- The next time you see Jerry, you tell him what happened, but he doesn’t seem all that surprised. He asks if you’re going to be alright, and you insist that you are. He gives you a smile and an “attagirl”, insisting that if you ever need anything, anything at all, he’s still always happy to help. You simply smile at him.

- Now that your boyfriend is officially out of the picture, you start spending more and more time with Jerry, forgetting about all of the boundaries you previously put in place for the sake of your past relationship. It feels nice finally being able to relax and though you promised yourself that you were going to remain amicable about the entire thing, it isn't long before you start to reveal all of the things that went wrong during your time together; no longer protecting your ex's reputation in the eyes of your neighbor. It feels good getting it all off of your chest and Jerry is just so ...understanding, always letting you rant to him and reacting in a way that validates all of your feelings of frustration.

"You know, I hate to admit it, but I had a feeling things weren't as ...perfect as they seemed," He admits to you one night, his voice resembling something akin to a purr, his eyes locked intently on you; a sense of hunger in his gaze that you blame on the alcohol in your system. "No offense, but uh, I could sense it in him: that he wasn't ready for all of this. I didn't want to say anything, but he just seemed like more of a boy than a man, someone who didn't know how to handle a woman like you. There's a kind of neglect ...gives off a scent."

- It's later that night when he kisses you for the first time, in the middle of his kitchen as you go to wash off the sticky remnants of a dripping beer from your hands. You hear him enter the room, and you begin to say something before you feel him come up close behind you.

"You smell really good." He hums, leaning closer as you turn towards him, opening your mouth to innocently thank him before he covers your lips with his own, kissing you fiercely.

- Your eyes quickly widen, dripping wet hand making its way to his chest in order to hold him back, to stop him from devouring you whole. When you pull away, you swear that his eyes are blacker than ever before: dark and frightening and inhuman.

- You back away and hurriedly excuse yourself, claiming that you have to leave for one reason or another as he merely watches you go, eyes intently trained on you; their unwavering focus sending a chill down your spine. He says absolutely nothing as you leave out his front door, heart pounding as you try to forget how much he resembled a predator: not some kind of human creep but a wild animal, something that wanted to eat you alive.

- When you get inside your front door, you notice a message on your phone, one from Ben's mother asking if everything is alright, that she hasn't heard from him for a while and that she's worried about him. A part of you can't help but wonder if you'll be telling her the truth when you inform her that he's broken up with you....

- After that night, Jerry seems to have finally begun ditching his attempts at acting normal around you, his behavior growing increasingly unsettling and suspicious now that he senses that you're onto him. Though you try to avoid him; and though he's stuck to watching you from afar for the past few days, it's hard to completely evade him when you never seem to hear him coming; another trait of his that does nothing but unnerve you.

- You successfully steer clear of him for nearly a week, growing confident in your ability to avoid him until you go to take out the trash one night and are suddenly met face to face with the man.

"I'm sorry about the other night," he apologizes, acting as though he didn't just materialize from the shadows of your garden and scare you half to death. "I know I shouldn't have made a move on you like that, but I just couldn't help myself. Blame it on the alcohol, huh?"

- You force yourself to smile at his attempt at a joke, telling him to forget about it as sincerely as you can as you move to surpass him, wanting to exit out of your garden gate and go inside as quickly as possible.

"It's just, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I could have sworn that there was something...." He shakes his head, both trying to find the right words and trying to goad you into interrupting him with a response of your own, hoping that you'll agree with him as he tries to read your expression. "Something there, you know?"

- And though you want to deny it, you know that you can't. You're suddenly met with the realization that Jerry has known all along, that he's seen right through you the entire time and that all of his vague attempts to come onto you have, in fact, been attempts to come onto you. You suddenly feel a swell of guilt, guilt for your ex-boyfriend who you now realize wasn't as insecure or controlling as you thought.

"It's just too soon." You explain quietly, hoping he'll accept the excuse. He stares at you for a moment, scanning your face intently as he seemingly tries to read your expression.

"No problem," he replies after the brief silence, offering a smile that does little to ease the tension you feel. You hate that you still find it attractive. "I just don't want to ruin things between us, you know? I really enjoy your company."

"How about I come over tomorrow then?" You question quickly, offering him a hopefully convincing attempt at a sincere smile; hoping that he doesn't notice that you have ulterior motives in mind. He once again gazes at you for a long moment, far longer than what anyone would deem as a normal pause, looking you up and down as a smile begins to tug at his lips.

"Of course." He answers after a moment, and you contain your sigh of relief, feeling like he's actually fallen for it as he steps back and lets you pass him through the narrow gap of your backyards gate. You bid him goodbye, pausing briefly to smile and nod at him when he calls out a time, swallowing down your nerves as you continue to make your way inside and ignore the feeling of his eyes on your figure.

- And just like that, you find yourself sitting in his living room, nursing a beer and smiling at him when he puts on the show that you've both started watching together; "our show" as he would call it. You force yourself to act normal, even force yourself to move closer to him, silently allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you in, hand rubbing up and down your arm as the two of you sit and watch. You hate that it almost feels natural. You can only hope that it's enough to convince him that nothing is wrong, especially since it's only succeeding in confusing your feelings even more.

- You know that you don't have much time when you ask to use his bathroom, quickly taking your chance to snoop through the rooms that you've never entered, quickly finding one that's full of suspicious artifacts; exactly the sorts of things that you were hoping you wouldn't find. You pull out your phone to take a picture before you nearly drop it at the sound of a sudden voice.

"Seems you've discovered my secret." You jump at the interruption, quickly spinning around and locking your eyes on Jerry who's standing in the doorway, watching you as you scramble for an excuse, tilting his head.

"I was just looking for the bathroom."

"It's down the hall. ...Like every other house on this street," He responds, and you quickly realize that you've been caught, that he's not buying it one bit. He smiles reassuringly at you as he starts to speak again, his voice taking on an almost cooing tone. "It's okay. I'm not mad."

"You know, I was a little worried when you stopped coming by. I thought you didn't like me anymore," He jokes, watching as you glance around and try to find an opening in the room, somewhere that you can escape from. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Why not? You hurt Ben." You ask spitefully.

"As if you care about Ben," He answers sarcastically before he puts up his hands in surrender, smiling sheepishly at you. "That. ...I'm sorry. I know you cared. You were a very good girlfriend. It was him that was the problem. ...But that's besides the point. Why don't you just come downstairs and let me explain, hmm?"

You pause, scrambling to make a decision. "You're a vampire." You respond, not as much of a question as it is a statement. He simply smiles at you. "Right? That's why Ben didn't like you. Why he was so weird about everything."

"I imagine so," He replies as if you already know the answer, which you admittedly do. "Ben was a …he was a nuisance. See, I’m just trying to live like everyone else, keep to myself, survive. He was making that difficult, and worst of all he was mistreating you. It became increasingly obvious that he was only going to cause more trouble and more problems. So I was forced to ...deal with it, before it could become an issue."

"And I think I did you a favor by doing it too." He chuckles a little. You suck in a nervous breath. "Y/n, I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I find that a little hard to believe."

"Well, try to, because it's the truth. You're different, y/n. You're something special. I knew it from the moment I saw you. You weren't meant to be in some unfulfilling relationship with some little boy. You were meant for something more, something bigger. I think that, deep down, you know that too."

"What do you want from me?"

"I just want you to give me a chance." He smiles.

- And against your better judgement, you find yourself wanting to agree....

- You suppose you don't have much of a choice either way, you know that nobody would ever believe you if you decided to try and tell someone, and even though Jerry claims that he doesn't want to hurt you, all he has to do is sink his fangs into you and you're finished. So you hesitantly agree to hear him out, letting him lead you downstairs and back onto his new leather couch, smiling at you affectionately as he takes a seat in his armchair, thankfully giving you a bit of space instead of invading your personal bubble like earlier in the evening.

- He doesn't speak for a long moment, seemingly waiting for you to start the conversation, though you're so unsure of how to navigate a situation like this that you're momentarily at a loss for words. He starts the conversation instead.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I enjoy being what I am. You hear about ...my kind in movies and in books, and they're either one step above an animal or anguished," He chuckles at the description. "They go on and on about being cursed, but I don't think of it that way. Sure, it isn't easy, but you get used to it. You forget about the sun, forget about your past life. You change, and personally, I think it's for the better."

"So you can't go out in the sun?" You speak for the first time since getting downstairs.

He nods in response to your question, smirking slightly as he offers you a verbal answer. "I don't really work nights."

"And you drink human blood?"

"Of course."

"Did you drink Bens?" He looks at you for a moment, as if deciding if you really want him to answer it.

"It would be a waste not to."

"Do the people you bite turn into vampires too?"

"Your boyfriend isn't a vampire, if that's what you're asking. I wouldn't have had it in me to put up with him for the rest of eternity." He scoffs, seemingly more at the idea than at you.

"So you can bite people without turning them."

"Not quite," he responds. "Anything I bite turns into one of me, but it's up to me to decide whether they'll live long enough to see it come to fruition. Ben was ...gone, long before he turned."

"So whoever you bite has to become a vampire?" You confirm, trying to make heads and tails of it all.

"You seem interested," He replies, and your eyes widen at the comment, your mouth opening to deny the accusation. "There's a way for you to feel what it's like without fully turning. I just have to give you some of my blood and you'll get a taste of it. It's just like a dream."

- You quickly move on from the topic, ignoring the way that he smiles at you, at the thoughts that go racing through your brain as you try to envision what he means. You continue your little questionnaire for about an hour, bouncing back and forth between subjects as you try to get as much information as possible, hoping that he's telling you the truth whenever he answers you. He's incredibly nonchalant about the entire thing, and it only serves to unnerve you even further: the thought of him being so used to his little lifestyle that the concept of it no longer phases him in the slightest.

"I have work tomorrow," You finally say, feeling as though you're incapable of taking any more information in. "I have to get up early so I really better go."

- He doesn't seem worried about you leaving in the slightest, he simply rises from his seat and leads you to his front door, bidding you goodnight as though you've had a perfectly normal evening. It's like he knows you have nothing against him, like he knows you could never escape him or find a way to beat him. Like no matter what you do, you're still stuck in his control.

- But Jerry continues to stay true to his word, never actually harming you, even if he continues to occasionally scare you. A part of you starts to feel like he doesn't even do it on purpose, like its just a part of his nature and that he's simply no longer trying to hide it. Alarmingly, you begin to find some of these habits of his attractive....

- You were no stranger to finding Jerry handsome, but you were sort of hoping that these feelings of yours would fade away once you realized that he was a blood-thirsty monster who killed your ex-boyfriend for fun. Unfortunately for you, Jerry is still Jerry, and the feelings of fear that you recently began to harbor for him are beginning to mix into a confusing cocktail; one that has you wondering where your nervousness ends and your excitement begins.

- Emotions are strange like that. You try to reason with yourself, wanting to excuse the conflicting feelings you have for the man. But the more you see of him, the more you talk to him, the more you touch him: the less you can excuse. Jerry is just so ...raw: all muscle and power and masculine energy; the sort of intoxicating presence that's hard to stay away from even when you know that you should. A part of you wonders if that's part of his vampiric powers, but you're simply too stubborn and embarrassed to ask.

- While you tried keeping away from him for a little while, it did nothing to quell your nerves, and though he patiently allowed you to have some space and time to think, you knew that he wasn't very pleased. So when you find yourself struggling to open a jar, you deem it as good a time as any to allow him back into your life. And with little else to do, you begin to spend more time with him; the "man" that continues to be one of your only friends....

- Surprisingly, your life doesn't really change all that much. You'd think that befriending an immortal demon would have some effect on you, would make some catastrophic shift in your perception of life. But you still work a nine to five, and you still have house chores, and honestly, all that's changed is your willingness to believe in the supernatural. ...And maybe your love life.

- See, now that you're back in his life and Ben is completely out of the picture, Jerry has become increasingly obvious in his attempts to come onto you. And since you're beginning to grow more and more receptive towards him, there's very little stopping his flirtation. You typically brush him off or tell him to shut up, choosing to outwardly take his advances as little more than a joke. But he knows that you know he's that being serious, and your denial has become more like a game for him than an actual rejection; something he can work towards breaking down. It's a challenge, and boy does he like a good challenge....

- Jerry knows exactly what he's doing every time he provokes you. He knows that you ogle him whenever he's in his tank tops or that you can't help but watch the way that his back flexes whenever he wears a fitted shirt. He knows that your hands have a tendency to linger for a moment too long whenever you bump into him; i.e. when he makes you bump into him. He knows that your heart races whenever he effortlessly picks you up or moves you around, and he knows that it isn't from fear. He knows, and he loves it, and it becomes increasingly harder for him to contain himself whenever you're around and so close to letting him claim you.

- But he also knows that it's becoming increasingly harder for you as well. So he simply bides his time, smiling knowingly whenever you hurriedly change the subject or move away from him, loving the way that you grow flustered under his gaze. He simply hopes that it won't take much longer for you to make up your mind because he's beginning to grow impatient....

- There's one thing that's been on your mind ever since he first brought it up to you: the feeling of drinking his blood. He's vague in his description of it, but it still continues to entice you: the idea of getting to taste a fraction of what it's like to be supernatural. You're not sure that you're ever going to be willing to make the entire change; though you're sure that Jerry would happily turn you the minute you asked, but you don't see the harm in experiencing some form of it; just enough to quell your curiosity.

- So after a particularly taxing day, you find yourself over at Jerry's place, sitting quietly on his couch as the two of you watch television, deciding how to bring the subject up to him, or if you even should. He interrupts the silence that the two of you have formed, asking you what's you what's on your mind and giving you excuse to spill the beans. He's quiet as you ramble through your thought process, and just as quiet as you finish, sitting there silently as you stare at your feet in slight embarrassment.

- Finally, you happen a glance towards him, just in time to see him getting up from his chair, his eyes darkened as he makes his way over and seats himself beside you on the couch. He wastes no time in slicing his finger open, deep dark liquid pooling at the wound as he offers the digit out to you, pressing it to your lips as you move closer. His eyes never leave your face, pupils lost in the sunken pits of black as he hungrily watches you take in the taste and the unfamiliar sensation.

- You feel the urge to chase his hand after he pulls it away from you, but you don't have much time to focus on that thought before he's pulling you into him, covering your lips with his own and licking up the remnants of his own blood. This time, you don't have it in you to pull away from him, not that you even want to, kissing him back just as hungrily as he kisses you, his arms tightening around your figure as he lowers you further down onto his couch.

- You wake up the next morning feeling a little hazy, like the last remnants of sleep are still clinging to your mind and stopping you from facing reality. You register that Jerry's arms are wrapped tightly around you, that you're laying on his chest, and that you've spent the entire night with him.

- And you suddenly have the intense feeling that you're no longer a free woman, that after this, Jerry is never going to let you go. But the thing is, you're no longer sure if you want him to: especially not when you feel him begin to stir, his body pulling you ever so closer and his face burying itself in your hair....

- No, no you think you like the idea of never having him let you go....

[homunculus-argument]

The thing about natural selection is that your genes do not care about what you want, beyond the necessity to make sure that you want what they want - which is to survive, and to pass on the aforementioned genes. For your genetic information, you are nothing but the current temporary little vehicle that they're scooting around, trying to guide you to the next stop, which is the next generation. Whatever the genes need to do to keep you alive for long enough to do that is just a means to an end.

Evolution does not operate by any intelligent planning or design, but mainly the same way that I navigate my way through life: By continuously throwing unfathomable amounts of random arbitrary shit to the wall until something sticks and actually works - not because of some inherent genius but because it was just too statistically improbable that nothing ever would.

No living thing intentionally evolves into the right shape to fill a specific ecological niche, some random works-by-pure-accident solution just happened to stick, and then continues to stick. And once again just like myself, your genes have no idea why something works, it just happens to work so they keep doing it. They don't care if you're happy if that doesn't personally benefit them - if your dad got laid by being a tragic miserable pretty boy who died at 27, you're going to have those genes because that worked for some reason, whether you like it or not.

Evolution works with no plan nor end goal beyond the next generation. Trees regularly eaten by giraffes don't have a desire to grow taller next time, and grow more spikes to avoid being eaten to death, and giraffes aren't doing any more planning than deciding which tree they will personally choose for dinner. And genetic code doesn't even know what an ecological niche is, it's not aware enough to specifically desire to find the perfect niche in which to belong. And it certainly does not care about whether any individual giraffe, personally, desires to be long.

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝Rogue Maiden❞

One Piece! Various × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : The fourth maiden is often underestimated by her peers, hidden behind a veil of secrecy and countless masks. Raised in a world with psychological danger, she learned to shield herself from attachment and harm. With an uncanny ability to read between the lines and always on guard, her true strength lies in what she conceals.

➢ Link : Masterlist

Character Profile┊A bud adorned by thorns

The Pastiche Island is an island filled with prideful - though they prefer being described as ambitious - women. Women who are skilled with their respective crafts like: exploration, literature, mathematics, science, philosophy, politics, and all forms of art. If you were not skilled in any of the aforementioned subjects, you were deemed useless as a woman and as a human being. Knowledge and skill are the sign of prestige and perfection to everyone on this island; Which is why young girls are rushed into perfection, fearing they would be rejected by society.

Though a former Whitebeard pirate was against this, she turned to you with a grouch as she rambled on and on about how you should not take part in the upcoming screening test. To her, you were but a child, she has yet to discover you possess qualities that were beyond a child's capabilities.

“I'm telling you kid, that test will just make you feel miserable!” The blue-green haired woman insisted as she hastily chopped the vegetables for the stew, “You're still eight years old, you have four more years till the actual test-”

Abruptly, you spoke up, tilting your head at your adoptive mother. "Are you just saying that just because you don't want me to go through the same thing you went through?”

Astrid, the former whitebeard pirate, stopped midway through dicing vegetables just to glare down at you for well… being you. In her eyes, you were just a smart and arrogant child, she was well aware of what you were capable of. However, she knew the maidens better than your child mind could comprehend. They were nothing like the average girl, there is a reason why they have a league of their own even at the ripe age of 12 years old.

"I'm not you, so I won't fail the test.”

The older woman gritted her teeth as a tick mark appeared on her forehead with a smile whose corner's were twitching from irritation. Astrid had to hold back colorful words knowing you were just a blunt brat that did not have a filter. Despite the words coming from someone so small, your words left a bigger impact than the cannons she used to wield back in her pirating days.

The blue-green haired woman set her kitchen knife aside and massaged her temples, "Even if you did take the test, what would you gain? The future is uncertain, don't take any stupid risks-”

You looked up at her with a heavily blank stare that took her mother aback, her usual brash self silenced a mere stare that said ‘Are you for real? ’. The sweet situational irony that these words were uttered by a former pirate who are commonly associated with words like ‘stupid’.

"Oi, oi, oi, you cheeky little runt! Don't try to turn the tables on me.” The older woman barked but you were not fazed by it.

“My past experience has nothing to do with you-"

“Then, why can't I take the test?" You countered with a question, trying to understand her mother's words, because throughout the whole conversation her mother never gave her a proper answer.

Astrid swallowed hard as she simultaneously hardened her glare towards her child, “You just can't! I know taking the test is tempting, and it can be helpful for your future but, the people upstairs are a real piece of work. Even if you did good you'd just-”

"Then watch me, you won't know till we see the results.” You casually quipped.

Your adoptive mother found herself taken aback once again, in awe of her child's boldness. In spite of the fact that you had monochromacy, you would think the child would have a limited view on the world but she didn't let that hinder her potential. She shone brightly no matter how limited her view on the world was.

Admittedly, Astrid was envious of her child's confidence yet, she could not help but doubt your capabilities. She knew it was normal for kids your age to be boastful and overconfident but, she knew for a fact that you are not like other kids, she has witnessed it firsthand. However, that tinge of doubt lingered at the back of her mind and she could not help but feel guilty for this.

Since that day, Astrid was adamant from keeping you to take the test, she did her best to dissuade you but, she was failing to do so as you were just listening to her as her words came out from ear to another. When the day came, you went to the screening test behind your adoptive mother's back. As the day came, you were skimming through the test with ease yet, it took you a while to finish thus leading you to be the last person to finish.

The moment you walked out the test room, you met your adoptive mother at the lobby, who fell asleep with your lunch cradled in her arms. You sat by your sleeping mother's figure, as you did your best to take away the lunch from her without waking her up. In doing so, you were eating your lunch in peace which caught a certain silver haired woman's attention who was passing by the hallway.

As dinner came around, you and your siblings assisted your mother in preparing dinner for everyone in the orphanage. In doing so your mother began distributing a meal for each child. When it was your turn, your mother gave you your meal for the night then, smacked the back of your head and proceeded to feed the next child.

Your older sister, Nana, merely snorted and wore a cheeky smile as she realized the predicament you were in. “Someone's in trouble~", as her narrow eyes and bangs framed her teasing look.

“Oh please, the old hag is just being dramatic", You scowled as you played with your meal.

Just in cue, the said ‘old hag’ slammed the table with her open palmed hands, making the other kids jump in their seats, whilst you maintain a poker look.

“Don't ‘old hag’ me, you little prick! I swear if you fail that test, don't come crying to me because I already warned you but your stubborn arse refused to listen." She placed her hands on her waist.

"Not like I was planning to, you have a lot on your plate.” The child's response elicited anger from her mother only to be interrupted by Nana’s statement, "You should go feed Vicktor and Belaine, They might get hungry from crying.”

The older woman clicked her tongue, fury still evident on her features, then angrily stomped away, leaving you and Nana by yourselves once again.

The pink-haired girl sat next to you as she looked down at you with a small smile, "You know you could just tell her you're taking the test to help her and the orphanage.”

“She'll just get insecure again and feel like she's a terrible mother," You bluntly remarked. When in reality, you didn't know how to express your gratitude.

Nana cooed as she teasingly twirled her pointer finger, “Aww~ Y/N’s too shy to tell mama that she wants to help around~"

To which you happily struck the back of your sister's head with an empty steel plate.

In the first faction, a quartz building that towered over the capitol. Its sides and the cracks are gilded with gold and black, mostly the white quartz outshining the city, the colors were loud and extravagant yet, the designs were simply designed. The same colors that were used dominated the first faction’s architecture style. In contrast to this, the people who walked upon the streets of the first faction wore elaborate, posh, and colorful clothing, akin to how peafowls strut their feathers to attract the opposite sex. But, these people dress to flaunt their wealth, practically screaming ‘I’m far more worth stealing from.’

The building that towered over the capital, it is where the same silver-haired woman from before is visiting. At the moment, the mysterious woman entered Lady Rosaceae Lilith's office to visit the fellow maiden

Lotus Yīng-qǐ whistled as she peeked over Lilith's shoulder, “Wow, that kid seems like a suitable apprentice. Are you taking her in?”

"I'll consider it for now, I need to evaluate her further though.” The beautifully ebony woman with long white dreadlocks with pink ends, whilst gold accessories were attached to her hair. “The proctor noted that she was the last kid to finish in every test. In addition, based on her medical papers, she's too weak to be a maiden.”

Yīng-qǐ raised her brow at this statement, to which the woman with white dreadlocks corrected, “Physically weak I mean. For a bud, she's nearing her blooming stage, despite only being eight years old. There are still some thorns here and there but, I can work with her.”

In spite of her harsh criticism of you, Lilith's smirk is not erased. Not because she was looking down on you but because she could not help the anticipation and excitement building within her. Seeing someone with your capabilities was rare.

Your test scores:

Exploration: 78/100

Literature: 93/100

Mathematics: 80/100

Science: 92/100

Philosophy: 94/100

History: 90/100

Politics: 75/100

Art: 98/100

Athleticism: 49/100

The silver-haired woman thoughtlessly nodded along, as she took away the other papers that mindlessly sat on top of Lady Lilith's desk. “This Emilia girl,” She murmured in awe, “It looks like she's a good candidate."

“Just good but not perfect." Lilith sighed as she played with the gold accessories in her dreadlocks.

Yīng-qǐ adjusted her glasses feeling a bit awkward, the other maiden changed the subject instead. “So, why'd you make Y/N take 9 different tests while Emilia took 4 different tests?”

"Just to check the legitimacy,” The long white haired woman in dreadlocks hummed casually, as she took the papers back from her fellow maiden. "Y/N is from the 4th faction after all, the education system there isn't on par compared to my faction yet, she kept passing. In the academics department of course.”

“As for Emilia, I didn't need to check on her much. She's from the 1st Faction so I expected as much from my own people to do well, just disappointed that her scores weren't higher than that child from the 4th faction."

The silver-haired maiden bit her inner cheek to prevent herself from pissing off the other maiden and to point out her biases. Jokingly, Yīng-qǐ wore a small smile as she adjusted her round glasses then remarked, “You could just say that you were paid off by Emilia's parents to not delve further."

“Oh please," Lilith let out a scoff as she threw a subtle glare at Yīng-qǐ, “I don't need money to know that my own people are smart, they are my people after all, it's only expected they do well.”

The Rouge Maiden's Character Profile:

Weapons:

Chained blades - A whip made of blades.

Parasol-Gun - A parasol with a gun and shield hybrid feature.

Gun - An extra gun with sea prism stone bullets

Abilities:

Masking - An ability to copy people’s combat style and mimic their personality or energy.

The Bloody Maiden’s Abilities:

Hemokinesis / Blood Manipulation - Constructing objects by shaping and solidifying it.

Serenade of Life - Enhancing the maiden's strongest points (For instance, Kudapal Y/N’s speed and accuracy)

Bloodlust - User's senses are heightened, especially when it comes to the person's sense of smell. They can also consume blood in order to recover from their injuries.

Crimson Edge - A sharp object becomes sharper when the maiden infuses their blood with the object.

Blood Art: Alla Prima - A special move made by Kudapal Y/N, wherein its a series of randomized attacks mixed with haki, masking (fighting styles she has acquired), and her original fighting style. The special move goes on till she runs out of blood.

Bloodbath - The user uses their blood splatter or blobs to stop in mid air then explode when the user gives the signal.

Scarlet Piercer - A regular bullet that's enhanced by the maiden's blood, it can only be used twice. The bullet is sharper than a regular bullet.

The Maidens of Pastiche Island are:

Kadupul, Y/N - 4th Faction, The Maiden of Artistry

Appearance - (insert your appearance)

Lotus, Yīng-qǐ - 3rd Faction, The Maiden of Philosophy and Politics

Appearance - A woman with narrow eyes, silver hair with side swept bangs and the tail of her hair settling on her left shoulder.

Ringelblume, Emilia - 2nd Faction, The Maiden of Mathematics and Science

Appearance - Tanned skinned girl, orange hair with yellow roots, half twin buns and half down.

Rosaceae, Lilith - 1st Faction, The Maiden of Exploration and Literature

Appearance - Ebony skinned woman, long white hair in dreadlocks with gold accessories attached to it and pink gradient along the ends.

➢ Taglist :

➢ Note : If your username is crossed out that means I cannot tag your blog. I suggest you either follow my blog and turn on your notifications or you turn on your subscription to the masterlist. [ EXAMPLE ]

[redvexillum]

Hey there my sweetest, beloved Vexi ♡

I just wanted to share something personal with you that you can then share with others because I know that they feel the same.

Writing has always been my passion. It's been the one thing that has kept me afloat in my life. Regardless of whether people love my writing or hate it, I would continue for the sake of continuing because it is my life.

But when I rejoined fandom spaces, I was terrified after hearing stories of how the culture had changed significantly. Interaction is lower, and hate has unfortunately always made its home in these communities. Given I share fanfiction solely to share with the aforementioned communities, I found myself afraid that I would get hate messages. I was afraid I wouldn't have a community that would stand up for me if that were to happen. While it would never deter me from what I love, I was scared that friendships and positivity were long dead in this space. Fandom felt lonely.

You know what though? I have met wonderful person after wonderful person. And then I met you too. There you are, getting some of the most horrendous messages I've ever seen sent to another human being, and you continue to push for positivity - smiling and laughing with us about how much you just want to see people happy.

Then you went on to start share some of the wonderful messages you recieved throughout that ordeal, only to begin writing positive affirmations and thoughts for us. Once upon a time, I struggled to accept this sort of positivity, I will admit that. When I was having a rough time, I would often see messages like that as 'hollow' for a lack of better words. I would be angry or bitter that others could think like that when I struggled so much to feel like those words should have meant something to me.

While time has passed since I was that person, I still remember the feeling of hopelessness, yet that doesn't deter from the fact that people like you - and countless others - single handedly restored my faith in these communities.

People like you remind me why I cling to my ideals of treating everyone with kindness no matter what. To try to understand other people. To help others. These are all things that bring us closer together. People like you, @silva-daemonium, @fraugwinska, @macabr3-barbi3, @chrisemrysfics, @melodyonthewireless, @dewdropdinosaur, @xalygatorx, @kewpikayo, @jurijyuu, @jalicecookie, AND SO MANY MORE do so much to support those around you.

All of this came about because I wanted to say thank you for posting those short little messages of encouragment. I know that I have appreciated them. Sure, they might seem a little cheesy to me on a morning when I'm tired - but they really make me smile, and prepare me to tackle whatever the day gives.

You're the beating heart of positivity.

It's a fairytale ending to the horror stories I expected.

I know that other people will see this too, so I just wanted to wish everyone that sees this a relaxing morning, afternoon, evening - timezone in general! You're here, and you've worked hard to be here all this time. Everything you've needed to do to achieve that, you've done. That's huge. I'm so proud of everyone, and my DMs are always open to anyone who might be struggling or just wants to talk. I'll always aim to help my community in the same way that Vexi has demonstrated.

Love to you all, and again, thank you for your messages, Vexi!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Cirice, I honestly don’t have the words to fully capture how much your kindness means to me. You are truly one of the most thoughtful, beautiful souls I’ve ever had the honor to meet, and I can’t thank you enough for your words. Knowing that something I’ve done has made even a small impact on people like you is still so surreal to me. I’m just deeply grateful that you’re part of this community.

You and so many others are the reason why I’ve stayed here longer than in any other fandom. It’s been the most heartwarming experience. This community, especially people like you, has genuinely transformed my perspective on what fandoms can be: a space filled with compassion, creativity, and connection.

Thank you for sharing your story, for giving me (and others) a piece of your heart. I hope your words reach others, inspiring them to create, to feel they belong, and to understand how wonderful it is to be part of something like this. Knowing we’re all here together, finding meaning in these connections, it makes the world feel a little less lonely and a lot brighter. 💖

Also tagging the people that didn't get properly tagged because tumblr is broken: @dewdropdinosaur @xalygatorx @kewpikayo @jurijyuu @jailcecookie

[hyucksos]

after rain, comes sunshine — huang renjun [preview]

pairing: huang renjun x f!reader genre: coffee shop au, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, romance, slow burn-ish preview wc: 0.6k (actual wc: 6.7k) synopsis: a thunderstorm leaves renjun stuck with his relentlessly cheerful, ever-optimistic coworker— you. you're the embodiment of everything he hates, but as the night stretches on, renjun starts to realise that the things that irritate him the most may not be all that unbearable after all. at least, not if it involves you.

There are three things in this world that Renjun hates.

Early mornings, small talk, and thunderstorms.

He must have done something super horrible in his past life, because it's barely even 3pm, and Renjun has had to go through all three of the aforementioned in that exact order.

He wasn't even supposed to come in to work today, but Donghyuck had called in sick (Renjun finds that hard to believe) and he was the only other person on the roster who knew how to make a Toasted Caramel Cloud Latte. Obviously, that wasn't a good enough reason for Renjun to willingly sacrifice his much-needed sleep, and it seemed that Donghyuck knew that too, because not only was he quick to promise Renjun to cover him for his next shift, the boy had also vowed to chip in to buy the new set of gouache paints he had been eyeing for so long.

That was what got Renjun out of bed, albeit begrudgingly.

The last thing he needed was an extra factor to contribute to his already-terrible mood, but that was what he got anyway when he stepped into the café, only to be met with you.

"Morning, Renjun!" You chirped from behind the counter as you dried down a mug, the café already prepped for opening— you liked to take your time when doing the opening duties, and you found that coming in earlier helped avoid any unnecessary rushing on your end.

Renjun didn't say anything, opting to shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the ceiling. You didn't miss the tick of his jaw as he trudged towards you wordlessly, letting his bag fall from his shoulder to the shelf beneath the cash register.

"You know how to make a cloud latte," he muttered under his breath as he put on his apron, securing it tightly with a double knot behind his back. "Why am I here?"

Despite his less-than-enthused response, you grinned. You've been working with Renjun long enough to know that he's a little bit of a grump, so you didn't take his moodiness to heart.

"Hyuck's your best friend. It would make sense for him to ask you instead of anyone else," you reasoned lightly. "Plus, having company isn't so bad, is it? You'll be out the door before you know it!"

"Citizens are advised to stay indoors..."

Renjun lets out a groan as he lets his head hit the cabinet behind him. It hurts, but not as much as the migraine that's already beginning to form in his temples. And as if to add insult to injury (no pun intended), the sky lets out yet another guttural rumble, reminding him once more of his ill-stricken fate.

"I don't think Seoul's had a downpour this bad in ages," you remark from somewhere at the dining area. Renjun couldn't tell where exactly you are; he had slid down to the floor when he decided to accept his fate fifteen minutes ago, and his only view since are the bottles of syrup and unopened bags of coffee beans under the espresso machines.

And as if to add even more insult to injury, the two of you are the only ones left in the shop. With it being a Tuesday afternoon, most of your regulars are either at work or school. Renjun has never liked working during the rush hour, but God does he wish for that to be the case now.

He looks up when he sees your head pop above the counter, raising a brow at the smile on your face. He knows how awfully cheery you are, but even in a time like this?

You must be crazy, he thinks.

[kafus]

why 100%ing the pokeathlon in HGSS is one of the longest challenges in all of pokemon

ok so the pokeathlon right. the fun minigame collection in HGSS that is sort of but not really a replacement for sinnoh contests. one of the achievements you have to get to upgrade the HGSS trainer card to 5 stars is beating all 10 preset records for each minigame in the pokeathlon, and this is probably what it's most known for outside of just being a fun minigame collection. i think most people beat all the records if they're going for completion and call it a day but despite how easy it is to get that trainer card level, it's actually barely scraping the surface of what this game expects out of you for 100% completion. i genuinely think it's one of the most insane pokemon challenges in terms of the amount of grinding and for WHAT??? WHAT WERE THEY THINKING AAAAA

okay deep breath hear me out. all of the images in this post are pictures of one of my own HGSS files that i have been slowly working on 100% completing the pokeathlon in. i am not done yet and you will soon see why

in the basement of the pokeathlon, there are four rooms that get progressively unlocked as you play. the first one ("solidarity room") is there at default, then you unlock the "trust room" by winning a medal in all five courses at least once, then you unlock the "potential room" by winning a medal for all five courses on the same pokemon (AKA what is called a "medalist pokemon"), and then lastly you unlock the "friendship room" by beating all the preset 1st records, which also gets you the aforementioned trainer card level. each of these rooms is there to display various pokeathlon achievements and holy shit there are a lot of them that just get more crazy as you go further back in the rooms so BUCKLE UP

this is the solidarity room, aka the first room. very easy stuff, the only records down here are in the glass case and they show your highest collective score in each of the five pokeathlon courses. for 100% completion of this room you need to get a score of at least 450 in each course and you can tell you've done this when there are two trophy icons filled in next to each on the right hand side. a couple examples:

the only one in particular that took me more than one or two attempts to get the score i needed was the jump course for some reason and i have no idea why honestly, i think i just suck at lamp jump. on the other hand the skill course is extremely easy entirely because snow throw can be cheesed (video of me doing this here)

next up is the trust room. mainly it features the glass case that shows off every pokemon you've ever received a medal on and also totals how many full medalist pokemon you have, as shown below (i don't currently have any pokemon who AREN'T medalists here, but medalist pokemon are given the red ribbon on the bottom screen, so any non-medalist pokemon won't have that icon):

yes i have 73 medalist pokemon at the time of writing this post. don't worry about the trophies right now, we're going to talk about it later

despite the glass case being the main thing here, the flag, jersey, and golden shoes on the back wall aren't actually there at first. they show up for accomplishing certain things. from left to right you have to switch 200 times in any minigame that requires swapping mons, join the pokeathlon (not necessarily win) 50 times, and dash in any minigame where you flick the stylus to dash 5000 times. these numbers might sound kind of high but it's potatoes compared to later and if you're trying to 100% the pokeathlon these will just naturally show up here eventually without you even thinking about it

amusingly after you get them and interact with them, it doesn't actually tell you what you did to get them there lol. it's just like wow! those are yours! crazy!

next up, the potential room: yet another glass case and a couple of tables on the back for more golden items that appear as you achieve stuff. the glass case this time contains all the records for each individual minigame, including those 1st records you have to beat as i've mentioned a few times.

here are some of my records that i am not so subtly taking the opportunity to show off here lol. i have played so much pokeathlon that all of the 1st records are completely gone from the list, i've overwritten the entire list from each event LOL. on the bottom screen, 1st records you've beaten get a little ribbon on the event icon... but hold on, there's trophies too!

yes there's actually two records to beat for each event, the one that gives you the little trophy is called the mastery record and some of them, unlike the 1st records, are actually pretty damn difficult to achieve. circle push requires 60 points for example, which requires you to get a score of at least 60 - and the theoretical highest score you can get, aka a perfect score, is 66!! that's only 6 points off from perfect!! and don't even get me started on pennant capture, imo it's by far the hardest mastery record, it requires you to pick up 50 entire flags in one game and for a variety of reasons this is very difficult and required me to soft reset over and over doing attempts for multiple hours lol. the mastery records are really where i'm like, damn as a kid with undeveloped motor skills this would make me fucking explode (and it did when i was a child. it almost did even as an adult. fuck pennant capture)

oh yeah btw that "Link" button in the top right is specifically for local wireless playing pokeathlon with friends and there are zero achievements related to it, there's no preset records and no local play is required for completion. figured i'd mention lol

anyway as for the two things in the back, the first with the golden pokegear is for 100 first place wins overall and the one i don't have on the right side is for winning each individual minigame/event in first place... 50 times. 50 times each. there's 10 individual minigames, and some of them don't repeat on any other course, so you can start imagining just how many pokeathlon playthroughs this takes. this is getting ridiculous considering the amount of time investment needed but it Gets Worse!

ah yes the last room. the friendship room. it's cute, it has a statue of you and the last three pokemon you won the pokeathlon with, so you can go in with a team of 3 pokemon you care about and take a photo of your screen surrounded by statues of your favorite guys. here the mons are just random though lol

however there's more to this room and this is where the true insanity of the pokeathlon reveals itself. if you interact with your statue, you get this screen:

as you can see, all of the trophies from the previous rooms are totaled here! the collective trophies are the ones from getting a good score on each course from the solidarity room, the trust trophies are from the amount of medalist pokemon you have shown off in the trust room, the potential trophies are from all the 1st records and mastery records you've beaten in the trust room, and the friendship trophies... well those are actually obtained from the big point score on the top screen, of which you need a minimum of 4500 to get the 10th and final friendship trophy. this total is made up of the sum of all five course high scores, the highest score from each individual minigame (after converting to athlete points, AKA the currency earned), and one point per each medal shown off in the trust room, so five points for each medalist pokemon.

and that's the issue. medalist pokemon. you may have noticed that despite me having a whopping 73 medalist pokemon at the moment as well as getting every other trophy in the pokeathlon, i only have 6 of the 10 trust trophies. do you know how many medalist pokemon you need to 100% the pokeathlon and get that last trust trophy? 200 OF THEM.

let me break down why this is fucking ridiculous. so first of all i've been waiting to mention this until now, but medalist pokemon aren't actually logged by individual pokemon, they're logged by species. this means if you go in with a cyndaquil, and then go in with a different cyndaquil, winning medals on both cyndaquils does not count as more medals after you've already gotten them on that first cyndaquil once. this means that to even attempt getting 200 medalist pokemon, you have to OWN 200 individual pokemon species - as of gen 4 there were 493 pokemon in the national dex including mythicals and stuff; that's a little under half the entire fucking pokedex!! think of it this way, there's 30 pokemon per PC box, and assuming no duplicates, you would need to fill 6 and 2/3 PC boxes with different pokemon species.

pokedex requirement aside, let's break down how many times you have to play the pokeathlon minigames MINIMUM assuming you win first place every single time and don't ever bring repeat species on accident. it's math time babey

you need 200 medalist pokemon but you join the pokeathlon with a team of 3 pokemon at a time, so let's divide that by three and round upwards. 200 / 3 = 67 full medalist runs. for each medalist, you have to beat all 5 courses, so let's multiply 67 by 5 to get 335 total pokeathlon wins. but wait, each course has three minigames! so the total amount of minigames you have to play MINIMUM to get 200 medalist pokemon is 1005. and again, that's at minimum assuming you don't fuck anything up!! these minigames aren't exactly short either, they last 1-2 minutes each and this doesn't count spamming A through dialogue and menus, picking your pokemon each time before each course, watching the cutscene of points getting totaled at the end... 1-2 minutes might sound short but even if we take out all that time menuing and assuming every course is JUST 1 minute for math's sake, that's 1005 minutes - that's 16 hours and 45 minutes of JUST pokeathlon gameplay, and that is absolutely an underestimate.

as you can imagine as a person with chronic pain these minigames are kind of painful after a while and so i'm definitely going slow with this grind but i intend to have every trust trophy eventually. i'm not the first to do it but i've seen very few people online who have even wanted to make the attempt and i want to be able to look at that friendship trophy screen and feel accomplished. (i'm also going to get that last achievement in the potential room but if i don't have it somehow at the end of getting all these medalists i'll worry about it then)

side note i think it's really funny how there's something called the Supreme Cup which is just pokeathlon but harder and the only thing worth doing it for is extra athlete points for winning (300 instead of 100), there's literally 0 achievements tied to it lol

oh, and an aside about how ridiculous the pokeathlon is - the data cards. despite all my rambling here about all these different rooms with various achievements, there's actually even more pokeathlon data that is accessible... for a price.

the lady behind the counter here will sell you data cards for athlete points which let you view more personal pokeathlon data on the computer screen right next to her. the issue is some of these are really expensive, most of them 1000 points or more, which is a minimum of two full pokeathlon courses probably won at first place each. and there's also one card that costs 9999 for some fucking reason, it's the one that shows your total pokeathlon playtime, which i think is really funny. you also can't buy it right away, you have to buy most of the prior ones first. they really said ok here's your reward for grinding enough AP to buy all those data cards including this 9999 one: checking how much time you've wasted on getting here! in total getting all the data cards costs 39499 AP. just to view all your data!! if you get an average of 500 AP per pokeathlon course, that's a minimum of like 79 pokeathlon wins!!

i assume most people have never bought a data card much less all of them, like most people are going to use all that AP for purchasing evolution stones and heart scales from the main shop on the right, but it's kind of nutty how much data the pokeathlon actually saves. very minute stuff. since i've bought all of them, here's my current stats at the time of writing this:

anyways don't do this unless you have a lot of time on your hands to tediously replay the same minigames hundreds of times, and if you do for the love of god rest your wrists btw. these minigames were not built for my bones and they probably weren't for you eitherSFDKSFD

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can we have reader who has the "gift" of changing the weather with their emotions x TADC ? (Either platonic or romantic, I don't mind! ^^) Like- they can go from sunny days and rainbows everyone and if they get upset the weather suddenly changes into cloudy day with a few thundering here and there, there's probably rain too but it depends on what made you upset lol

Kinger, Pomni, Ragatha, and Zooble x reader who can manipulate the weather through their feelings

still limiting the number of characters per post since im still not mentally where i need to be in order to... do full casts(?) </3 more than willing to do the rest in a second post if you want, though WOOOOO admin managed to fall asleep early last night and now im up early, nature is healing!! im finally out of my "can only sleep for a few hours until 12am then be unable to sleep for the following 8 and then spending the day sleeping" cycle melatonin gummies aint shit!/j

POMNI:

will jump if you ever get angry enough to summon some lightning bolts. as mean as it sounds i think she would put some space between the two of you if you're setting loose the aforementioned lightning before or raining everywhere. but that might work out if youre the kind of person who needs some time alone to calm down- she will apologize for giving you some space, i hope you can understand that she doesnt want to be electrocuted </3 but it does offer up a reason for you two to work together to find a system to better regulate yourself, and i think pomni might just be one of your biggest supporters during that!

RAGATHA:

probably has made you a custom/personalized umbrella so you have at least some level of protection against your own rain or even from your own sun rays (eyes!! your eyes!!).. really put her all in making it for you, anything you'd ever want in an umbrella is there. okay jokes aside, i think she would be really good at calming you down enough to quell your storm clouds, and enough for you to recollect yourself enough to calmly communicate your feelings out; she probably lets you hang out in her room once everything is under control (she has lots of stuff in there, doesnt want it to get rained on or zapped)(understandably)

KINGER:

Probably jumps when your little storm cloud above you lets out thunder or lightning; but that might be because im self projecting on kinger again and making him anxious about storms.. shrugs. unlike pomni i think he would try to find a solution right there, offering himself up to talk to you regardless of risk. likes seeing your sunrays cast down because he's well aware that its a visual indicator that youre happy, and that makes him feel more.. sure of himself that everything is fine, or at least as fine as it can be in the digital world. very nice, very sweet

ZOOBLE:

doesnt like water getting into their joints/where their body parts connect since it can make them feel.. weird. slicked or even waterlogged depending on which joint it is. not the best comforter but theyre trying their best; will yell at someone is they made you upset (cough cough jax). as mean as it sounds, they can sometimes get a little overwhelmed/annoyed by your weather patterns, but they do feel bad since they understand its a reflection of your emotions. definitely still cares about you, though. bad at cheering people up, but they will at least make an attempt though unlike some other characters in this post/other characters not in this post, theyre not going to pester until they see your sunrays come back

[icycoldninja]

Hey, love your DMC fanfics, can I request DMC5 Dante with sweet and kind s/o in her twenties, meeting fem reader parents who are really strict, conservative and lil abusive especially the reader's mother. They have weird ideas of purity for women and are very patriarchal.

Hello, hope you're well. Thank you very much, I am more than honored that you enjoy my writing. I am afraid to say that I have chosen to omit several aspects of your request as I wish for this blog and all material posted on it to remain free from political and social reform-related biases. In order to preserve the intended mood of the piece, I have replaced the aforementioned omitted material with synonymous themes, as needed. I understand that this may be disappointing to you, and for that, I apologize. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this fanfiction and that you have a fruitful and productive day. Thank you for your patience and leniency.

Terrible idea (DMC5! Dante x Fem!Abused!Reader)

TW: Controlling parents, violence, and implications of physical abuse incoming; if you are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI.

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You sighed, resting your cheek on your palm as you stared out the car window, absently watching the blurred scenery rush by. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands felt clammy; you couldn't believe this was actually happening.

For context, today was the day Dante had agreed to meet your your parents. Normally, this would be a joyous occasion, but in this case, it was terrifying because your parents were less than pleasant, to say the least. They hated the idea of you leaving their (abusive) household so much, they did everything they could to make your relationships--be they friendships or otherwise--crumble. At first, they'd attempted to keep you isolated, but now you had a job, and therefore, your own house, which was conveniently far, far away from theirs, so there was nothing they could do. Their only remaining tactic was to embarrass you and insult anyone you brought to see them until your guest left, either in disgust or awkwardness. The only reason Dante lasted as long as he did was because he'd never met them--you'd kept their existence a secret from him and his existence from them up until this point.

You hadn't wanted to bring Dante to meet them, but he'd insisted. Because his parents weren't alive anymore, he was unable to introduce you to them; to make up for it, he'd meet your parents instead. You never told him how horrible your folks were, however, and were seriously regretting it now, but he was so excited--you just couldn't burst his bubble like that. Maybe, hopefully, things would go well today.

"Hey, babe, you OK?" Dante asked, briefly glancing in your direction.

"Yeah," You sighed, turning and smiling at him.

"You sure? You don't sound ok."

"I...I'm fine, don't worry."

"Ok...well...we're almost there, according to the GPS."

You nodded, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, not really sure what to say. You honestly didnt want to be going to your parents' house; Dante didn't need to get involved in your family issues any more than he needed to.

"Come on, I see that frown. You can tell me if something's wrong, y'know," Dante encouraged, patting your shoulder.

"There's nothing wrong," You responded, forcing another smile. "I'm fine." Dante would have pursued the conversation, but there was a sharp turn coming up that he needed to focus on. Once he rounded the curve, you spotted the a building in the distance; a familiar building that you recognized as your parents house; the building that had never been your home.

"This your folks' place?" Dante asked, and when you nodded, a big grin broke out on his face. It was clear he was excited to meet those who had "raised" you. It was a shame he had no idea how awful they truly were. "Alright," He exclaimed, grinning, "Let's go meet the people that raised my angel!" He flung the car door open and bounded out out it, with you slowly following suit. Poor Dante. He had no idea what waited for him there, and it was all because of your weakness. Now that you were literally on the threshold of hell itself, you felt so upset with yourself for not warning him earlier; for being so selfish and keeping the truth a secret from him. You were sure that after today, he wouldn't want to be with you anymore, and so, you decided to simply accept your fate and get on with it; maybe the day would pass by quicker if you pretended to enjoy it.

Your anxiety and fear reaching its peak, you rung the doorbell and waited for the door to swing open; waited to be greeted with the frowning faces of those horrible monsters you couldn't believe you called your parents.

Sure enough, the door creaked open, and you were met with your mother, a scowl plastered across her wrinkling face.

"Y/N," She greeted, stiffly, prompting you to force a smile.

"Good afternoon, mother." Your mother then turned her attention to Dante and narrowed her eyes at him.

"And who's this?"

"My...umm....my..." You words died in your throat; your mother's scrutinizing gaze silencing you. You sighed, folding your arms and averting your gaze. Thinking you were just too excited to function properly, Dante eagerly piped up and finished your sentence.

"I'm her man, name's Dante, nice to meet ya!" He stuck his hand out, expecting your mother to shake it, but she did no such thing.

"What? A boyfriend? Are you crazy? We told you never to get a boyfriend--you don't deserve one! " She yelled, her piercing, fiery gaze directed on you. "Answer me, girl, what were you thinking?!" You couldn't. You felt like there was a burning lump in your throat, preventing you from speaking. If you did, you were sure you would cry. You knew this was a bad idea. What were you thinking indeed, coming here and bringing Dante with you? Clearly angry at your lack of a response, your mother crossed over to you and slapped you across the face. "What has gotten into you, child? How dare you disobey us and bring this filthy troll to our doorstep?! How dare you?!" Suddenly, your mother seized you by the arm and began beating you with her bony, yet painful fists; his vise-like grip keeping you in place even though you screamed in pain and tried to get away.

"Stop it, let go of her!" Shouted Dante, forcing your mother away and standing between the two of you. You sobbed, clinging onto his arm as you desperately tried to wipe away your tears.

"Get out of my way, you have no right to stand between me and my daughter!"

"She ain't your daughter if you hit her like that--the hell you thinking?! What was that even for?!"

"Shut the fuck up, you worthless loser," Retorted your mother, spitefully. "You have no right telling me how to parent my child.

"She's not your child if you treat her like this," Dante said, coldly. "Come on, babe, let's get outta here." He wrapped his arm around you and tried to guide you away, but you remained still.

"I'm sorry, Dante," You said, still crying. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I'm so, so sorry--I should have told you about them sooner."

"And what's that supposed to mean, young lady?!" Demanded your father, striding into view in his usual stained shirt. "And who the fuck is this?"

"Her boyfriend," Growled your mother, turning her nose up in disgust. "A bad influence, too." Your father grunted, roughly grabbing your wrist and jerking you towards the house.

"That's easily taken care of. Get outta here, loser, you'll never see my daughter again." You turned and looked at the angry expression on Dante's face, wishing you had the strength to stand up for yourself and break free. Unfortunately, you didn't; you were too afraid to do anything. You could only watch as your horrible parents dragged you inside their house of horrors and slammed the doors in your boyfriend's face.

Once again, you found yourself questioning your thought processes that led you to set foot within a 40 mile radius of your parents' lair.

You knew it; you felt it in your bones and your gut, but you did it anyway.

You were such an idiot.

This really was a terrible idea.

[darkestmetamorphosis]

2, 6, 8, 12 >:3c

Answers under the cut because this got looong and a little spicy >////<

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2: a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

I've hinted at some of my thoughts on this before, but here is all the deep lore (as deep as Alucard in Trevor)

(None of this should in any way be taken to mean that Trevor exclusively bottoms. He absolutely does top sometimes and if you're already asking what he does with that whip if he's not a dom and/or top with Alucard, the answer is Hector. He's doing Hector.)

Why Alucard Would Never Bottom: a dissertation

Exhibit A: Spite

Alucard's portrayal in netflixvania has done irrevocable damage to how his character is perceived by the fandom as a whole, and this is one of many reasons why. 

I refuse to acknowledge what Warren Ellis did to him and I refuse to acknowledge his rapist ocs as canon. It cannot be proof of Alucard's sexuality (I think he is bisexual for entirely different reasons, based solely on the characters I ship him with in cv3 and sotn) or what he actually does like doing in the bedroom, because it's a rape scene written by a sex pest.

I'm also refuting it out of spite for migratory slash fandoms latching onto trevorcard for the wrong reasons and forcing them into the seme/uke mold. I can't even really call it flanderization when it's not an exaggeration of traits they actually have, it's just wildly out of character. I have a deep-seated personal seething hatred of ukefication in general, and especially when it comes to pretty bishounen. 

It's even worse when it's my comfort character who I somewhat relate and project onto and aspire to be as pretty as him and I WOULD NEVER DO THAT. (For personal reasons to do with me being ftm and dysphoric as hell and hating the stereotypes about it. I don't hc Alucard as trans but I know there's fans who do SOLELY because he's pretty and/or because they decided bottom=trans because of the aforementioned nfcv shit and I hate it. If vampires were real I would let them bite me though. I'm only a masochistic slut for vampires ok)

Also we just need more pretty boys topping stronk manly men ok

Exhibit B: Actual serious reasoning based on what I can extrapolate about his characterization based on the games and vampire lore in general

A very common headcanon which while I don't entirely agree with, is more accurate than how nfcv and its fans portray him, is that Alucard is aroace. And I can somewhat see it, though I see it more in the sense that I think he would be more interested in pseudo-sexual intimacy than actual sex. The sexiest of all forms of pseudo-sex is a vampire's bite (citation NOT needed). I'd go so far as to call it a type of BDSM. Feeding would be the ultimate act of love and intimacy for him, and I don't think it's something he does lightly; only with the humans who love and trust him implicitly.

Additionally, I think he'd be more interested in sex while feeding than sex by itself; both of them at once being filled with the other's warmth.

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6: which ship fans are the most annoying?

I've curated my dash enough to not see any of it on tumblr, but trephacard shippers still manage to annoy me by cluttering up the tags for the games on ao3. The sheer amount of fics that get filtered out when I filter it out is just depressing. They get all three of them completely wrong (which is mostly the shows writers fault but they still get compressed even further into flanderized molds) They're sleeping on Grant when they could be sleeping with Grant and leaving him out of the polycule is an instant red flag that it's a netflixvania fic

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8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

The common headcanon that Alucard is oblivious to or disinterested in romance. I'd like to think he does reciprocate Maria's and the curse polycule's feelings. It's not that he doesn't want to be with any of them, but that he keeps his distance and goes to sleep out of a misguided desire to protect them from himself and believing he doesn't belong with humans because of the vampire half of himself; all the while pining that they cannot be together. I don't think that was an easy decision for him to make.

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12:  the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

I know she is beloved in our corner of the fandom here but Julia

I feel like outside of here, people just see her as Hector's obligatory love interest or as a replacement for Rosaly. She is so much more than that. I feel like there is so much that CoD only hints at on a surface level.

I've been thinking more thoughts about her lately, admittedly in relation to Isaactor-centric fic ideas but I feel like she's taken on more of a distinct personality that cannot be interchangeable with any other character.

I think anyone who appreciates Isaac should appreciate her too; I'd like to think they're not as different as they seem in CoD