#its not bad its just simply a different genre/style | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

star-sim · 10 months ago

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hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim

☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader ☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship. ☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen ☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this ☆ word count: 13.4k words ☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy

Jake Sim was many things.

One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.

As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.

There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.

For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent.

Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.

He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.

In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way.

Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too.

This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.

Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.

Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.

However, there was always one exception.

You.

pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?

The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.

me: yeah i'll come over right now

You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.

Not that either of you minded.

Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.

Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable.

And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.

You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.

Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.

"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did.

"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown.

"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.

How could he not resist teasing you?

You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.

Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.

You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.

"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"

You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote.

"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"

You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more.

Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.

Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.

"How do I look?" you asked.

Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.

"Beautiful."

As always.

The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.

Except that got delayed.

“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.

“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”

Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.

“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you… or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.

Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether.

“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“

“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”

You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.

Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”

“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.

(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)

"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.

"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"

Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.

You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention.

That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.

This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.

Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.

"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily.

As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California.

It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.

You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.

Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.

"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly.

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.

"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.

You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."

Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.

Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.

Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.

As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours.

And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.

Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.

"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway.

"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."

You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.

"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?

"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."

And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.

He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"

You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff.

"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.

"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.

"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.

"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him.

"No."

"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him.

"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."

Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."

You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck.

"You're just too addicting."

Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus.

However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.

His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.

"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.

"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."

It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him.

Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you.

He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you.

When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him.

For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.

Except, one comment caught his eye.

“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.

At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie.

As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.

Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video.

Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame?

So that maybe someone would see it.

Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.

Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.

Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.

At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.

You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.

Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.

Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.

"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes.

Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."

You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.

"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"

You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened.

"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."

Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"

She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.

Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.

"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."

She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).

"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"

"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute.

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.

Did you have to look so pretty today?

Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications.

Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face.

"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.

Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.

"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."

"I literally smiled earlier!"

"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."

"Shut up!"

Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.

He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.

But Jake missed you right now.

His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.

He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.

Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!

However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.

It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.

"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.

But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.

Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.

Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that.

Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.

"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.

He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.

And his wish came true a few hours later.

It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.

He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.

And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.

You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you.

However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.

Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.

"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.

"Hey, baby," he grinned.

Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.

You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.

When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service.

As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.

As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.

Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other.

There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.

What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."

"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."

"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."

For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.

Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together.

"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post.

Family.

That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).

"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.

Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.

"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."

It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.

"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."

"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."

Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."

He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”

You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.

“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"

He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck.

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.

The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.

Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.

"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.

Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."

You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.

"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"

He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser.

Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair.

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.

God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.

Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt.

Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest.

Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.

When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.

"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."

He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.

If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.

"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.

You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips.

Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.

Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.

You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.

"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.

You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.

"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"

With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.

Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.

After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.

You little tease.

Jake's last straw was.... right now.

After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.

Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.

That should be him!

Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.

Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.

"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"

Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.

"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."

The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.

"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."

Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.

"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."

The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.

Oh.

Shit.

Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.

There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.

"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."

The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.

"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.

"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"

Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.

A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.

But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.

Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"

No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.

You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.

Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.

The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.

Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? … No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.

But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.

You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.

Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down.

Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.

As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.

There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.

You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.

Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.

He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.

Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.

"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.

Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off.

"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.

"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."

Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.

Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.

"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."

You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.

The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax.

Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.

You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.

Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.

“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.

“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!

Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.

"Nothing," you said simply.

There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.

"H-Hey—!"

Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.

Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.

You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.

"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."

Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.

You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.

At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.

Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.

"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."

"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.

Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.

"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."

It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage.

"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."

Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.

"You're so cute, baby."

"I know."

"What's with you getting so bold?"

"You're annoying me."

"Awww, you love me so—"

Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors.

You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.

"It's so pretty," you murmur.

"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."

Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one.

Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.

"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"

Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now?

"B-Baby, wait—"

"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest.

"Just kiss me," you breathed.

You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.

Something in his eyes had changed.

Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.

"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.

"W-Where are we goin—?!"

"Back to my room."

You were in for a night.

You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.

After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed.

It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.

Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.

"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"

You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety.

"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.

Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.

What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.

Its headline?

Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.

The worst part was the cover page.

It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.

And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.

The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.

Had he always been like this?

He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.

Why did he throw it all away?

He agreed to keep things private.

But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before.

Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.

But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.

The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"

"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"

But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.

"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."

Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.

But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.

Were you ashamed of him?

Of course you would be.

You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.

He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.

That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?

No, no, no!

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.

But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.

You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.

But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.

You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret?

Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course.

But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.

You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.

You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.

You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.

But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.

A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones.

They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.

Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.

"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.

Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.

"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.

You had a few choices.

You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.

You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.

Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.

But you wanted to get out of there.

You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.

"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."

"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"

You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy.

"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless.

Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.

"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.

If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.

You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?

But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.

"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"

With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.

Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.

He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.

But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.

Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).

You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him.

That made his mind wander.

Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.

He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.

"What for?"

The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.

"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"

Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them.

"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"

"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"

The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.

Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?

You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.

"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"

Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.

Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."

Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"

Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.

You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back.

And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.

You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you.

“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”

You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.

“Now, onto the video!”

You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.

“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”

With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.

“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #jake sim fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagine #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun x rader #star-sim #vanya-writes

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madelynn-sienna · 3 months ago

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coney island p. I (max verstappen x reader)

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★ prompt: ❛❛ what's a lifetime of achievement? if I pushed you to the edge? ❜❜ ★ pairing : max verstappen x reader ★ face claim : lily collins (+ one picture of kelly piquet and margot robbie each) ★ genres : angst ★ a/n : this will be a two-part hurt/comfort story inspired by the song coney island. be rest assured while this half is quite sad, the second half will make up for the angst and we will get a happy max x yn ending! also, per some creative liberty i took, max is only 23 years old here (he started racing in 2019, won his first gp in 2021 and was in school with the reader before he dropped out to pursue racing full time). ★ feedback and requests are always appreciated!

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maxverstappen simply lovely race 🏆 what an amazing weekend and victory in jeddah, thank you all for your incredible support 🇸🇦

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yourinstagram another fabulous performance #mv01 🔥🔥🔥

redbullracing incredibly strong race today, a 1-2 finish is all we could have asked for 💙

user1 tu tu tu du max verstappen! user2 fastest pit stop too.

yourinstagram made me so proud max, ik houd van je 💕

maxverstappen ik hou ook van jou mijn liefste ❤️ user3 they said they loved each other in dutch. user4 he also called her 'his sweetheart' 🥹 user5 max and yn are literally the it couple on the circuit rn. user6 right? three time world champion and a bestselling author. user7 they so need to make a movie about it. user8 or a book, imagine a twisted lies style drama 😭

ruthbuscombe the strategy 💯

landonorris congrats mate!

maxverstappen thanks. user9 we're waiting for a win from you too lando! user10 this aged well haha

schecoperez ¡bien hecho!

user11 presenting our four time world champion everyone!

user12 we're only on the second race of the season 😭 user13 i mean if last year's anything to by, that's enough.

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text exchanges between yn & max dated 23/07, 02/08 and 04/08.

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yourinstagram it's supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one...

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user1 faster than the flying dutchman?

user2 yoo-hoo, @.maxverstappen where are you? user3 right? like he's usually the first one here...

carmenmmmundt happy birthday🥂

danielricciardo happy 21 yn 🍾

user4 why isn't max in the pictures?

user5 he's been busy with the belgian gp! user6 dude, that finished on sunday — it's the next saturday. user7 he's prolly just really stressed, he hasn't won since canada. user8 yeah, but yn through him a massive party last year. user9 so? circumstances were different... she isn't busy 24/7. user10 she literally has a job.

alexandrasaintmleux belle fille❣️

charlesleclerc joyeux anniversaire 🎉

user11 that caption's giving me bad vibes...

user12 me too! user13 its from all too well, that's such a sad song 😭 user14 i wonder why she chose it? user15 this better not be a sign.

user16 seriously? where is max, it's been 24 hours...

user17 check their stories, they're like done done. user18 nooooooooo😭 user19 she gave so many signs...

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yourinstagram added to their story. maxverstappen added to their story.

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liked by charlesleclerc, redbullracing, landonorris and others

maxverstappen 5 wins in 5 races - thank you for your support in monza, baku, singapore, texas and sao paulo. you've made me happier than you know, happier than i've ever been before.

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user1 he really do be out here pretending he didn't break yn's heart.

user2 of course, he needs to maintain his bravado. user3 otherwise people, and he will realise, he messed up. user4 i can't believe he's trying to snub our girl yn.

This post no longer exists.

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redbullracing max verstappen wins the world drivers championship 2024, after an outstanding race at the las vegas street circuit that leaves him at with a 62 point lead in the standings ❤️ 💛 💙

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user1 max, max, max, super max, max

user2 tu tu tu du max verstappen user3 i called it! i said he'd win the wdc back in jeddah 🏆

user4 were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? happy birthday.

user5 of course, he just painted yn's bluest skies the darkest grey. user6 you are getting pressed for a breakup you know zero about! user7 max literally said it in his interviews and his statement. user8 they broke up because he was too busy. user9 ergo, he wasn't there for her, not even on her birthday!

lewishamilton amazing work - congratulations max

user10 what a goat ❤️

danielricciardo maaaax verstappennnnn! four time world champion.

user11 why'd I read that like pierrreeee gaslyyyyy? user12 me too😭 daniel's an icon.

fernandoalonso ¡muchas felicidades!

user13 real question here is, what's a lifetime of achievement?

user14 especially when he pushed her to the edge. user15 right like did you see her in miami, she looked so sad😭 user16 we all know she was just too nice too leave. user17 i'd have dumped his ass ages ago.

user17 definition of a LEGEND

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f1 🚩 Red flag in the Abu Dhabi as Max Verstappen suffers a huge crash. The medical rescue team is currently trying to get the Red Bull driver away the resultant debris and fire as safely as possible.

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intermundia · 6 months ago

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i think my biggest frustration with the way many fans discuss star wars is the disdain they have for the genre of the movies and the way they dismiss the context for why they are the way they are. there's almost a contempt for the stylistic choices made; they wish that the movies were more like action movies than heroic space fantasy.

i like that they are stylized. i like the genre. i do not wish they were different. it surprises people when talking to them about star wars when i'm not eager to rag on the movies for repetitive or silly dialogue or things like that. it's like a large part of star wars fans love to hate star wars for being star wars. i am not part of that group.

i think that the star wars: magic of myth exhibition book is a great read that provides much essential context. there's a quote in there from science fiction author brian aldiss who defined 'space opera' in 1974:

Ideally, the Earth must be in peril, there must be a quest and a man to meet the mighty hour. That man must confront aliens and exotic creatures. Space must flow past the ports like wine from a pitcher. Blood must run down the palace steps, and ships launch out into the louring dark. There must be a woman fairer than the skies and a villain darker than the Black Hole. And all must come right in the end.

lucas's project is not realism, he is not a character-driven director! he is concerened with cinema as the moving image, loves speed and visual impact, soaring music and clear archetypal action. his dialogue is not naturalistic patter, just as the costumes are not streetwear. it's a movie shaped by its references to flash gordon and buck rogers.

it's melodramatic and obvious in its narrative goals, there's no secret to whether or not darth vader or the emperor are bad guys, you know? it's not about parsing their intentions, it's about how their dark looming figures fills the screen and enters the public consciousness as avatars of evil. luke, leia, obi-wan, all wearing white, are heroes to inspire and emulate.

those who dislike an elevated artifical style, who only want andor rather than flash gordon, are engaging with the material in a way that's simply different from the way i am, so we just talk past each other lol

#had brunch with a guy who 'loves star wars' and then proceeded to spend the entire meal complaining about it #and all i could be was like 'i like the prequels. i like the dialogue. i don't want the movies to be different' and it blew his mind lol #star wars #my beloved #sw

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zerobaselove · 3 months ago

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zb1 reaction to you getting dressed up ♡

pairing: zb1 x reader

genre: fluff mostly?

warnings: some swearing in gunwook's, kind of suggestive in matthew's, some mentions of feminine styled clothing throughout some scenarios lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: i got so fucking carried away with hao's im SORRY... i also wrote half of these like weeks ago so you can definitely tell there is a difference between some of them but its FINE im sorry for being so ia work is kicking my ass </3

jiwoong ;

"are you ready?" jiwoong's light squeeze of your hand pulled you from your thoughts and back to the surreal reality you were living. it was your first time joining your boyfriend, jiwoong, on the red carpet for a film premiere, and to say you were anxious was an understatement. what if you looked bad? what if you said something stupid or what if the paparazzi thought you were a waste of their time, and footage. what if you embarrassed yourself, or worse, jiwoong.

as if the man could sense your nerves, he grabbed your chin gently to make you face him. "you're gonna do great, i promise." he planted a kiss on your temple, "and you look gorgeous, in case you needed the reminder."

it was all a bit of a blur; getting out of the car and immediately being bombarded with camera flashes and calls of your names. they wanted to see your face, and yet you could barely take your eyes off the floor, too worried that you would stumble. the only thing keeping you sane was jiwoong's arm around your waist, guiding you down the cherry red carpet lined with smiling faces. they were all smiling at you two.

once you had made it to the photo zone you had started to feel a bit better. the compliments thrown your way had helped ease the remaining worries, along with jiwoong's words as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "look, they love you," he shifted his weight, posing slightly for the camera before leaning down briefly again, " i love you."

in another blur of flashes, you had ended up at the door of the building, the end of the red carpet. jiwoong removed himself from your side for the first time that night, rushing ahead to get the door for you.

"jiwoong," you giggled, "i could've gotten the door on my own." he simply shook his head, ushering you in before returning his arm to your waist, "looking like that? it's the least i could do," he took another glance at the designer dress hugging your skin in a way he was sure inspired some of the greatest renaissance paintings, "i should be kissing the ground you walk on."

you let out a chuckle at the dramatic antics of your boyfriend, "just kiss me instead." and so he did.

zhang hao ;

to say you were bored would be an understatement right now. you were happy for your sister getting married, there was no question of that, but being the little sibling meant you didn't really have anyone to hang out with at the wedding, with the guestlist being 50% family you either didn't recognize, or didn't feel like spending the night with, and the other 50% being friends of your sister and her partner's own friends.

so here you stood, hugging the wall near the band, at least letting the music drown out some of the boredom and gossiping family. it was loud enough that you didn't hear when a person approached you, lightly tapping you on the shoulder. as you turned to face the stranger, you realized it wasn't a stranger at all. it was zhang hao.

he had always been a close family friend; the kind that you spent hours with in the pool as kids, the one that you were seatmates with in the 3rd grade. the one who went to a different highschool, and the one who eventually you only heard of through his accomplishments and conversations ending with "you could learn a thing or two from him." you missed him.

"hao!" you smiled at the familiar face, "what're you doing here?" you couldn't hide the confusion.

"well your sister invited my family, but she also hired me to play the violin for her reception!" he smiled sheepishly, hating the way it felt like bragging in front of his, unknown to you, childhood crush. to say he was struggling to keep it together right now was an understatement, but thankfully you seemed oblivious to his wandering eyes and stuttering words as you continued chatting.

as the night led on the dance floor had turned into drunk adults and their sober kids running around, chased by the designated babysitter of the night. "do you wanna get out of here?" hao offered, glancing around the room. you couldn't help the excitement at the offer, having been waiting for an out for a while now. "let's go."

the two of you had said your goodbyes, excusing yourselves for the night, some excuses of tiredness or early classes the next day; they didn't have to know it wasn't true.

and that's how the two of you ended up at a bingsu place, getting strange glances from other customers at your rather formal attire. but as the two of you laughed over your strawberry dessert, you couldn't care less what others thought of you, to you it was just the two of you in the room. and it seemed he felt the same way, because as you were leaving, he slipped his own hand into yours without saying a word.

the two of you walked in a comfortable silence for a moment, "has anyone told you how gorgeous you look tonight y/n?" he looked at you for a moment before stopping, still holding your hand as he waited for you to meet his eyes. "is this you telling me you think i look nice?" you giggled, trying to push your beating heart down, to no avail.

"it is," he smiled, leaning in slowly, "can i?" his eyes glanced between your eyes and your strawberry stained lips. realizing what he was asking, you didn't even nod before leaning in the rest of the way, placing a kiss on his lips. "is that a good enough answer?" you smiled, dragging him along the sidewalk as his cheeks flushed impossibly darker. maybe tonight wasn't so boring after all.

hanbin ;

"does this look alright?" you asked as you rounded the corner of the hallway, gesturing to your outfit that you had picked out for this last minute date.

"alright?" hanbin started, taking a moment to close his hanging jaw at the soft fabric that hugged your frame in all the right places. "you look perfect, my love." he couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your lips, not even worrying about the gloss that would end up on his own.

despite the voice in your head telling you to ditch the date and just stay in with your lips attached to his, you pulled away, looking up at the boy with a small smile. "let's get going, handsome." you giggled as you headed to the front door, strapping on a pair of heels.

"i'll be just a second," he smiled, "you can take the keys and start the car." you hummed in approval as you grabbed the pair of car keys off the hook on the wall, the small hamster keychain making a faint clinking noise against the metal of the keys.

it wasn't long before hanbin had joined you in the car and your date had begun. hanbin couldn't seem to go more than a few minutes without letting his gaze wander over your frame or sending compliments your way. even now that you were sat on the hood of the car looking over the sunset, he couldn't help but observe you in all your beauty. "are you cold?" he asked softly, noticing your body shivering when the breeze picked up. you attempted to shake your head in assurance that you were alright, but before you could, the boy had disappeared.

moments later he reappears from behind the car, your favourite jean jacket and sneakers in his hand. "no need to be uncomfy this late into the night!" he beamed, draping the jacket over your shoulders as he knelt down to help you change out of the dressy shoes you had been walking around in all night.

"where did you pull these out of?" you smiled at the boy in front of you, tying your shoes as he hummed a tune. "i packed them before we left, what did you think i was doing when i told you to get in the car?" he giggled, standing up in front of you, settling into the space between your legs. "sung hanbin," you breathed out, grabbing the collar of his shirt lightly and planting a kiss on his lips, "i love you."

matthew ;

“c’mon slowpoke,” your boyfriend teased, swinging around the corner into your shared bedroom as you were putting on the finishing touches of jewellery. you chuckled as you muttered a small rebuttal, the teasing remark seemingly falling on deaf ears as he made his way towards you. his hands snaked around your waist as he pulled you flush to his figure, only briefly making eye contact through the mirror before burying his head in the crook of your neck. “matt,” you sighed, trying to keep your composure as you could feel his breath ghost over the tops of your collarbones, “don’t start something you can’t finish.” you warned lightly, sensing the smirk on his lips as he breathed out a response. “you know finishing is never a problem,” the sound on your skin nearly sent shivers down your spine. your hand came up to run through his hair, lightly tugging on the strands between your fingers, “this is your reunion you know? wouldn’t wanna show up late.” you tried to convince him, and yourself, that the event was worth giving up the path this could lead down. he only hummed in discontent, reluctantly pulling away, his hands still wrapped around the small of your waist. “how am i supposed to let everyone else see you all dressed up like this.” he whined, linking your hands, still in front of the mirror, unable to pull his eyes off you, in all your beauty. “my perfect baby.” you couldn’t help but shake your head, which only caused the boy to spin you around to face him. “y/n, i mean it when i say this,” he pressed his lips to yours, “you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing,” another kiss connected the two of you, “and i am so god damn lucky to call you mine.” his smile was wide, this time pressing a kiss to your temple, “now let’s get going, don’t wanna be late.”

taerae ;

“you must be taerae!” you smiled, watching as the man you had been messaging for the last week walked towards you, seemingly more handsome than in the pictures on his dating profile. “and you must be y/n!” his smile mirrored yours, a deep dimple appearing on his face; the cherry on top of his already perfect looks. his hair was parted just off centre, his brown hair in combination with the tan plaid jacket he wore made him seem so welcoming and rather soft; like a teddy bear. he took in your outfit, a sleek and well fitting outfit, as if made just for you. a stark contrast from the outfits you typically wore, the ones in the pictures he had seen. it wasn’t a bad difference, but now he wasn’t sure how to even form coherent thoughts and sentences, let alone attempt to impress you on this first date. “would you like to head in?” he managed to stutter out, his nervousness becoming more apparent. “i’d love to,” you giggled as he opened the door, gesturing you in like you were royalty. “why thank you kind sir.” the two of you were a giggling mess as you walked into the restaurant. the two of you were escorted to your seat soon after, making small talk as you glanced over the menus in front of you. the conversation between the two of you flowed seamlessly, floating from topic to topic, only stopping to order. as the night went on, the two of you kept finding yourself erupting in laughter and beaming smiles as you found more and more in common; even your humour was well suited for each other. you almost forgot how nervous you were for the date, feeling more comfortable around him by the second. he couldn’t help but feel the same, despite the lingering stutter if he looked at the colour of your lipstick too long, or the way your eyes seemed to glimmer in the light shining on your table. in what felt like a blink of an eye, dinner was over and taerae was insisting that he would get the bill, despite your protests. “okay fine,” you lowered your head in defeat, “but that means i’m getting the next one!” you grinned, watching as the boys ace flushed a deep pink almost immediately. “next?” he stuttered out, trying to hide his joy at the prospect of another date. “unless you don’t want to go out again,” you teased. “no no!” he quickly objected, “i’d love to go out again.” you hummed with a smile, boldly reaching out to grab his hand as you exited the restaurant. “good! because i’d be quite disappointed if i never got to see you again.”

ricky ;

"ricky i can't wear this out, i'm going to ruin it!" you exclaimed from behind the bedroom door, loud enough for your boyfriend to hear you from where he sat in the living room. you had let ricky pick out your outfit for your date today, and he in typical ricky fashion, picked something that you were sure was worth more than the apartment you stood in, and it was white.

you could hear his laugh through the wall along with what you assumed was a shake of his head, "you'll be fine y/n, we are just going to the museum, i don't think anything will get you there." as if sensing your argument, he continued, "and if you do ruin it, we will get you a new one, okay? now show me my masterpiece!"

you couldn't help but shake your head at the response, what a ricky thing to say, you thought to yourself. but alas, you ran a brush through your hair one more time, spraying your favourite perfume and straightening out the clothes before opening the door.

it wasn't often you had seen your boyfriend stunned. as soon as his eyes found you, his phone was long forgotten on a couch cushion as he got up and slowly walked towards you, jaw agape.

"you look amazing," his voice trailed off, taking in every feature individually, causing your face to flush, "you always say that ricky," you argued. but he was having none of that, "well it's not my fault you can pull off everything." his hands traced the neckline of the shirt, moving to your necklace and then the outline of your collarbones.

it was almost quiet, with the exception of the heartbeat pounding in your ears as he studied every feature, as if to memorize every detail to recall later. it felt like you were burning under his gaze as you stood there, close enough to see his chest rising and falling.

"almost just wanna keep you here all to myself," he mumbled, "but i need everyone to see how pretty my partner is," he turned himself back to the couch to grab his phone before motioning you over to the full length mirror in the hallway. his hand snaked around your waist, pulling you in front of him so he could take a picture of you two in the mirror.

it wasn't until later that you saw why he took it. the picture welcomed you when you clicked his instagram story, a romantic love song playing over the image along with the caption that made your heart skip a beat. "the absolute prettiest, and all mine."

gyuvin ;

“gyu, where are you?” you called into the quiet apartment as you let yourself in with the spare key he had given you. “coming!” he called out from down the hall, you could hear his feet shuffle along the floor, the boy soon appearing before you with a wide grin. “what brings you here, my love?” he asked, his gaze wandering down your figure, taking in your semi-formal attire, his jaw going slack. “take a picture love, it’ll last longer.” you winked, a smug smile plastering your face. before you could even continue to explain your plans for the day he had pulled you in by the waist, “don’t tell me you’re leaving after showing up looking like this,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck. “i was just stopping to drop off some snacks for you,” you giggled at the ticklish feeling of his breath on your neck, “was passing by on my way to my cousin’s graduation and thought i’d say hello.” his face finally pulled away from your neck, facing you with a smile and flushed cheeks, “well, hello,” he beamed, “now ditch the graduation, i miss you.” you chuckled, wrapping your hands around his neck, placing a kiss on his lips, “i have to go gyu, but i can come over after dinner, movie night?” he only whined, sadly nodding his head at the idea. “how am i supposed to sit here waiting until tonight knowing you look this pretty out there without me?” your hands started playing with the hair on the back of his neck, leaving his lips to part slightly at the feeling. “fine,” he whined, dragging out the vowels like they could stretch the time with you just a bit further, “but you better come back to see me after.” he pouted, reaching down to play with your fingers. “i pinky promise,” you smiled, “now i have to go or i’m going to be late,” you planted a kiss on his cheek, “and gyu?” you asked, halfway out the door. “yes my love?” “leave some snacks for me!”

gunwook ;

"please pick up, please pick up." you mumbled between your shallow breaths, your shaking fingers pressing the call button next to gunwook's name. the phone only rung once before your best friends voice came through the speaker, "what's up? aren't you supposed to be on a date?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "he stood me up," you sniffled, trying to put on a brave face, or voice, for the boy on the phone.

"oh i'll kill him," he muttered, "where are you?" he asked, you could hear him pulling his shoes and coat on over the phone. "i'm at that restaurant down by our boba spot, i'm walking home and just," your voice trailed off, why did you call him? "just wanted to hear your voice i guess." you concluded, so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't hear the door slam on gunwook's end.

the boy stayed on the phone with you, letting you rant as he stayed strangely quiet on the other end, but you didn't think much of it. that was until you saw a rather tall man running towards you, slowing down right in front of you. "hi" the simple phrase echoed between the phones and you nearly burst into tears at the sight of your best friend. you threw your arms around him and let the floodgates open.

his hands found their way around you, one rubbing your back gently as the other ran though your hair. "let it out, you're okay now." he kept repeating reassuring phrases as you babbled about how humiliated you felt. he just stood there comforting you, letting you have your moment in the middle of the sidewalk, illuminated by the streetlights lining the road.

"he's an idiot, y/n" he said calmly. you tried to argue, insisting that maybe you were the problem, maybe you weren't good enough, but that broke gunwook, and he wasn't about to let you say those lies about yourself.

"y/n, look at me," he pulled away, tilting your chin upwards to meet his eyes, "you are way too good for him, or for any man who would ever even consider hurting you or standing you up," he rambled on, "especially when you look like that." he gestured to you.

"look like what?" you questioned, just out of curiosity.

he shook his head, a blush creeping to his face, "like the person of my dreams, the most gorgeous and kind person to have walked the earth." you stood in shock for a moment, taking in the confession that you had been waiting years to hear, the confession that you thought would never come, and the reason you let yourself go on these dates with these shitty men.

"i like you." you blurted out, not even caring that this moment was accompanied by tear stains and running mascara. the boy smiled wide, "i like you too," he reached down to grab your hand, "so," he trailed off, "movie night at my place?"

"i would love nothing more."

yujin ;

"you really don't have to come y/n." your best friend yujin insisted, but you shook your head fervently, "and miss my best friend's graduation? funny joke yujin." you said sarcastically, "you got to come to mine so i get to go to yours, end of story."

and that you did. yujin's parents offered to let you join them, insisting you were like the daughter they never had. plus you loved chatting with his parents and little brother. "you look absolutely lovely today," yujin's mom said as you walked towards their car, a sheepish thank you leaving your mouth in response.

you got there just in time for the ceremony to start. soon enough yujin was being called up to the stage to receive his diploma. you and yujin's brother were doing the most, cheering and clapping to an almost obnoxious level while his parents held in a laugh as they took pictures of their oldest.

once the ceremony was over, yujin had found his way to you guys, greeting you with a light slap of the arm and a shy scolding for embarrassing him, causing all of you to erupt into laughter.

you all chatted together for a moment before you and yujin led into your own conversation. "who knew you had legs under those baggy jeans you always wear?" he laughed, now it was your turn to smack his arm lightly, "i dress up one time and this is what i get." you joked, shaking your head.

"you do look nice though," he continued, a genuine smile spreading across his face, and you smiled back. "you don't look to bad yourself, mr. high school graduate."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone imagines

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bambheez · 2 years ago

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tonight is for the two of us (l.hs)

SUMMARY: two lonely people who find comfort in each other’s presence for one night. PAIRING: heeseung x reader GENRE: angst, smut WARNINGS: mentions of character death, grief, depression, insomnia, child and domestic abuse, alcoholism, profanity, light smut WORD COUNT: 5.8k A/N: the way this entire thing screams verbosity but that’s just my style so pls forgive me lol… obviously this is different from what I’ve posted so far in that there’s actual plot and it’s somewhat dark (so please read the long ass list of warnings before you proceed). you can also listen to the PLAYLIST for this story (I am in love with all of these songs)! as always, reblogs/comments/feedback are especially appreciated! :)

Your clammy hands were gripping the steering wheel to the point where your dashboard lights illuminated the whites of your knuckles. As you made your way up the windy roads to the lookout point, void of any streetlamps and relying on your high beams on blast, you were silently thankful for the lack of cars trailing behind you or driving toward you in the opposite direction.

Had you done your research beforehand instead of simply plugging the address into your phone, perhaps you wouldn’t have embarked on this hour-long journey to go stargazing with your colleagues. You suggested carpooling to no avail, having to face your absurd fear of driving not only at night but also on sketchy, unfamiliar roads.

A slight crane of your neck to the right brought you a view of the city’s skyline in the distance, a hazy glow amidst a sea of black, and you wished you could teleport back to the comfort of the bright, bustling city. The mere thought of having to drive back down this same path later had you letting out a deep groan.

A sudden interjection of your phone’s navigation app announcing that you were arriving at your destination in 100 feet caused you to whip your head back in focus, scanning the parking lot as you approached the top of the mountain.

Your car was the only one in the vicinity, save for a camper van with none of its lights on, looking particularly worn-down and deserted. You parked in a random empty spot, unplugging your phone from its charging port before stepping out into the brisk air. Spotting a bench near the lookout point, you took long strides up across the parking lot and up the hill, plopping down to sit and fishing your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications.

You were surprised to find an empty home screen, expecting a “sorry, we’ll be a few minutes late” in your group chat seeing as it was over ten minutes past the time you were meant to arrive. You dialed the number of the coworker who invited you and you heard her voice come onto the line after three long rings.

“Hey! What’s up?” she was nearly screaming over sounds of at least a dozen other people talking.

“What’s your ETA?” you were muttering, already having a bad feeling of what she was about to say.

“H-huh? Oh, it’s supposed to rain tonight, so we canceled! Sorry, I thought we told y–” you were tearing the phone away from the side of your face and hanging up before she could finish her sentence.

A miserable chuckle escaped your mouth as you took note of the thick clouds hanging over the sky and brought your feet up on the bench, hugging your knees and resting your back against the wood. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

You thought perhaps moving across the country to a big city would put an end to the dread of a thousand tomorrows, none of them promising any semblance of change, but the truth was you never felt more alone than when you were standing in the midst of a busy crowd surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinding lights—a single drop in the ocean.

There was no way to describe it other than a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant, dull ache. A black hole that threatened to swallow every part of you until all that was left was a human shaped shell, too numb to feel the pain anymore.

There were nights you unwillingly let it control you, and all you could do in those long hours was find an enclosed place to shake until the tears subsided. The vast, open darkness in front of you made you wonder just how many people were out there feeling the same way you did.

Some old acquaintances had promised to stay in touch, yet what you heard from them was comparable to radio silence, their smiles and efforts merely pixelated and small yellow faces that stopped coming whenever your world fell apart—which was often.

Trudging to get past each day made you realize just how much of your world had revolved around one person—one last connection with a life that used to be. You couldn’t tell her when your local tea shop came out with her favorite lychee drink, when you listened to a song that reminded you of her, how you saw someone on the subway reading a book she had recommended you, or how you overheard a couple arguing over the proper way to load a dishwasher, the very thing you had repeatedly bickered about as college roommates.

And now that she was no longer in this life, you were constantly questioning your purpose, even occasionally wondering if you were meant to be alone. Was this what the universe had planned for you? You weren’t sure you believed in multiple soulmates, so what happened when yours left you?

If you miss me, just look at the stars. She would always sign the text with a ‘;)’ at the end and you would mock her with a scoff, replying with or I could just call you, dumbass.

Without realizing, you were already bringing up your history of text messages with her, scrolling through the endless one-sided green texts, each decorated with a delivery error message. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard while the pulsing blue line stared back at you.

“Where are you?” you were wailing out, wincing subsequently at the unexpected echo and crack in your voice. The thundering in the distance seemed to answer you, but you wished the stars were out so that you’d at least know she was watching over you. You couldn’t help but feel that the cloudy skies meant she couldn’t see you, or worse, look out for you. A droplet landed on your cheek and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling. You weren’t sure if they were your tears or hers.

It was the end of the week and you somehow found yourself making your way up the mountainous roads again, remembering coming home last time with extraordinary peace of mind despite the frazzled state you arrived in. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was pushing you to get out of the city once again.

The air was noticeably cooler than it had been last week, and you were scanning your backseat for any signs of a sweater, sighing inwardly when you found none. It was warm when you left your office earlier in the evening and you mentally cursed at yourself for not checking the weather yet again.

You contemplated staying in the car with the heat on, but a glimpse of your glowing fuel light had you rolling your eyes in disappointment for being so forgetful and inattentive on top of the countless other flaws you felt you carried.

You were making your way toward the empty bench again, spotting the camper van in the same parking spot. You assumed it hadn’t moved since the last time you were here, most likely having been abandoned. There were considerably fewer clouds in the sky today and you beamed at the view of the small specks of white splattered against the darkness.

“Give me a sign that it’ll all be okay, please,” you spoke while eyeing the stars above you, some brighter than others. Your hair flew in the wind, draping across your face as goosebumps formed on your arms as you prepared to let the rest of your thoughts out. You didn’t remember closing your eyes, but the sound of footsteps approaching had you instinctively opening them and straightening your back and you suddenly felt a weight on your shoulders, gasping to find someone draping their flannel jacket over you.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he spoke against the wind. “You seemed cold.” A boy, now in a plain black shirt, was making his way around the other side of the bench to sit down next to you. He left considerable space between the two of you, which you were silently thankful for.

You spun around to see where he had parked, not having noticed another car arrive and when you saw nothing but your own car and the camper van, you felt a chill run down your spine. Alarm bells should’ve been going off in your head, but you were seemingly more concerned with the fact that he had most likely seen you in your most vulnerable state, crying out into the open void like a lunatic, not only once, but twice now.

When he felt you staring, he turned his head only to briefly make eye contact with you before glancing back down at his lap. His skin was a pretty shade of olive, the tip of his nose illuminated by the hazy moonlight. You took in the rest of his appearance—worn sneakers with one of the laces untied, ripped jeans, and shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and you found yourself resisting the urge to run your fingers through his locks.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he was asking, picking his head up once more to look at you.

You weren’t so sure yourself. Maybe it was the fact that this was the only place where you didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk to her, to yourself, or to the universe in general; you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or sit in complete silence. All you knew was that after a particularly bad day at work, you were taking the exit off the highway without thinking, almost as if you had taken this same exit a hundred times before.

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckled. There was an awkward pause, and you were realizing that he wasn’t going to answer you.

“I’m here to u-uh, stargaze.” You were telling the truth, at least partially.

“Stargazing’s not the best here, with the light pollution and all,” he replied. You hummed, unsure how to respond. He noticed your hesitation and was rubbing his palms against the black denim of his jeans before clearing his throat.

“‘m Heeseung, by the way.” At first, Heeseung found himself slightly annoyed at the fact that you had disrupted his peace and not-so-secret hideout spot, observing you from his van while you mumbled to yourself on the bench.

“I travel in my van, but ‘m running low on money.” He was rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. “The parking here’s free, so…” he trailed off, regretting it immediately after stating the obvious.

As he got a better look at your face up close, he saw that a small frown seemed semi-permanently etched on your face, which he could tell you were hopelessly attempting to correct as he studied you. A wave of guilt washed over him upon registration of his untimely intrusion, realizing that you would probably prefer to be alone right now due to the blatant evidence that you were pretending to look less dejected in front of him.

You were briefly introducing yourself as someone new to the city, not knowing what else was interesting about you and accidentally slipping in the fact that you ‘didn’t really have any friends’, teeth chattering slightly even with his jacket resting over your frame.

“Did you want to sit in my van instead?” Your frown was faltering when your lips parted in surprise at his request. He contemplated adding a lighthearted comment about not being a serial killer to reassure you, but you were already trailing behind him as he stood up. You could tell he was tall when his legs were stretched out next to yours while sat next on the bench, but he was even taller than you’d imagined when he was standing up, even with a slight hunch in his posture.

Heeseung peered over his shoulder to catch you struggling to keep up with his longer strides, still clutching onto the collar of his jacket over your right shoulder and he let a soft smile adorn his face as he slowed his pace to match yours. He was rounding the front of his van to open the passenger side door for you but you were already cutting in front of him, hopping up on the door sill clumsily.

You let yourself into the passenger side, holding the jacket out to Heeseung who was still staring at you through the driver side window. He opened the door and pulled himself into the seat, reluctantly taking the jacket from you and tossing it on some unknown surface of the van behind him.

He turned on the ceiling light of his van and began blasting the heat after noticing that you were sitting on the backs of your hands. His fingers were fiddling with the knobs on the CD player to turn on soft, lullaby-like piano music and you made a poor attempt at stifling a laugh. For some reason, you expected him to be into rock music and found the unexpected contrast endearing.

Heeseung shot you a confused look at the sound and you simply shook your head and waved it off, a small smile still playing on your lips. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the first time that night, you were taking a closer look at his features. Underneath his bangs were eyes that carried both fervor and innocence and lips that were held in a constant, soft pout. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darting around the space in front of him at the feeling of you staring at him so intently. He shook his head so that his bangs were falling over his eyes again in one swift movement before thinking of something to say to take your attention off his face.

“I dropped out of college when I was 18,” he was muttering, trying to gauge your reaction from his peripheral view before continuing. “And then I ran away from home to travel.” He was leaving out key details like the fact that he didn’t necessarily run away from home with the goal of traveling but instead began traveling because he simply had nowhere else to go.

When he came home after his first semester with an official diagnosis from his university’s health center, his family refused to let him seek therapy or any other form of help. With a father who was never home and a mother who went as far as threatening to disown him if he didn’t return to school the following semester, Heeseung wasn’t left with much of a choice.

You were surprised that he was even sharing this much with you. Your heart tightened at the thought of him being alone in the world at such a young age and his lack of a support system, seemingly more alone than you were. He was considerably better than you at concealing his loneliness and you hated that fact, not because you wanted to be better at it but because you knew just how much effort it took.

Heeseung could barely remember what it was like to have his father around, the only seemingly harmonious moments spent with him before he started grade school fleeting and long forgotten. The bulk of his adolescence was spent resenting his father for the way he treated his mother, where his father would appear through the front door every few months or so in one of his drunken episodes, an empty bottle of liquor already in hand.

He almost always knew when it was happening, the rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for alcohol reverberating through the house and to his room. He couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t stop restocking the house with it or why she wouldn’t change the locks or take his father’s keys or even file for a divorce, and he couldn’t help but despise her weakness and inability to stop pitying her husband.

“Look who decided to finally show up for his mother,” the older man seethed, breath reeking from the drunken stench.

A particularly loud argument had Heeseung flying down the stairs, the sound of a glass bottle breaking causing his mother to let a scream out of her mouth. He took in his father’s appearance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. A look off to the side at his mother with tears streaming down her cheeks was suddenly leading to punches being thrown and knuckles growing bloodied. A harsh shove from his father caused him to lose his balance and tumble onto the wooden floor.

“Maybe ask yourself why you’re defending a fucking cheater instead,” his voice boomed through the living room. A puzzled expression took over Heeseung’s face as he turned toward his mother who winced both at the sound of her husband slamming the door as he left and the way her son ran his tongue over his busted lip, eyes beginning to gloss over.

After finally grasping the fact that his mother was not the person she made herself out to be and what pushed his father over the edge over ten years ago, Heeseung, who had always stuck close to her growing up, attempting to make up for the lack of his father’s presence, began growing increasingly distant from her as he finished his final years of high school. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch in his life was the only thing he took with him and stashed in his van the night he left.

He was wrapping his hand around the nearly empty beer can in his cup holder from the thought of his childhood memories and shooting a pained expression your way at the paled look on your face, eyes pooling with concern and he tried to perceive it as anything but pity.

“I honestly don’t mind it much,” he was saying, but an unfamiliar look was flashing across his eyes and even though you barely knew him, you felt like you could see right through him.

He was redirecting his gaze out the windshield. He had used the North Star almost as a source of direction in his travels for the past few years, as cliche as it sounded. Tonight was the first night it was visible in the two weeks he had been parked here, deciding to camp out in the deserted park until it reappeared and he had saved enough money from his part-time job in the city.

The North Star appeared noticeably brighter tonight, a beacon in the middle of the night shrouded in shadows and Heeseung was suddenly wondering whether it was a coincidence that you were here with him at this very moment, whether you were the very person who hung the North Star for him in the night sky, guiding him toward a purposeful destination, or whether you were the destination itself. He was shaking his head at the intrusive thought as you followed his line of sight.

The heat blowing throughout the van was fogging up the windows and blocking up your view of what he seemed to be focusing his gaze on. Heeseung watched as you turned in your seat, moving your body to face the passenger window with one leg folded up on the cushion. You were bringing your fingers up to touch the glass, slowly drawing a heart with your index finger and peering through the clear traces at the sky.

Heeseung, nowhere near intoxicated from his built up tolerance over the years, took one last sip of his drink, still not taking his eyes away from your side profile and subtle movements as you immersed yourself in your own world for the second time that night. He was turning to his own window to mirror your actions, outlining a much sloppier heart on the glass. By the time he finished and spun around to face you, you were already watching him with a beam, the apples of your cheeks rosy.

You were suddenly bursting into laughter, your brain on autopilot as you leaned over the center console to fix his drawing. You were practically pushed up against him with your hand resting on his thigh as you drew over his sketch on the window, adding a dozen more hearts around the first and filling up the rest of the fogged glass with your doodles. Heeseung was noticeably stiffening under you, attempting to distract himself from his quickening heart rate by picking at the fraying of his jeans on the leg you weren’t perched on.

You leaned back to admire your silly artwork for a few seconds before glancing over at him and noticing Heeseung’s eyelashes fluttering delicately, still reeling from the sudden physical contact. Upon noticing the close proximity, you were removing your hand from his lap and bringing it back into your own, leaning into the seat again and you could feel the heat evident on your face, knowing it must’ve been even more apparent to him. He was no better at concealing his own expressions as his sheepish smile faltered, feeling abnormally disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.

Still in a daze, Heeseung was reaching behind him to grab a can of beer, holding it out in front of you while his eyes were trained on the single heart drawn on the passenger side window. He held back a grimace as he realized that he’d done so without thinking, hoping you hadn’t caught on to his dependency. You accepted his offer without hesitation, wiping the rim of the opening with the bottom of your shirt and popping open the tab, taking gulps at a much faster speed than you were normally used to.

Your head was still spinning with the thought and feeling of the burn of your fingertips against his thigh. You both drifted into a comfortable silence, the music no longer playing since the CD player in his rundown van didn’t have the ability to auto loop tracks or albums and the hammering of his heart against his chest seemed almost too loud for you not to notice. Heeseung thought about taking out the disk and replacing it but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of the air around you.

Your lips formed a small frown as you saw clouds beginning to shape. You thought it was the alcohol deceiving you, but you blinked a few times and the clouds were still there.

“I hate the rain because it means I can’t see her. It makes me think that she’s crying,” you suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze fall to you as he fell out of his trance, but he didn’t ask who, just simply nodded.

His reaction made you freeze in your spot, realizing you had most definitely overshared beyond an imaginary boundary. You almost wanted to apologize for it before you were saying the next thing that came to your mind.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” you were abruptly blurting out.

He was quirking his brow in amusement. “Come on, I can barely fall asleep,” he laughed softly but not without a somewhat pained expression behind his eyes. You had assumed it was a joke, but the sincerity in the way he observed you told you it wasn’t. Your eyes widened before you were nodding softly and returning a weak smile, taken aback by his confession.

“Don’t worry about it,” he was brushing it off. “You?”

You were staring out the windshield again for a few moments, lost in your thoughts before responding, “A lot of unrequited love, if that counts.”

You began to explain how you had never been in a relationship, not because you didn’t want to, but because it was seemingly out of your control. You presumed that the time you spent on this earth loving romantically without any reciprocation had somehow altered your brain chemistry to truly believe that you were meant to be alone from the very beginning, and you were often wondering which would hurt more, to have had true love and lost it or to never have had it at all. Dwelling over the fact that you had already experienced some form of both made your situation seem all the more ridiculous.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you were flighty in your thoughts, jumping to one without finishing the other. As a result of the accumulation of thoughts you created when you were alone, all the things you would talk to yourself about came spilling out.

Your mind went on talking even when you were alone. And when you ran out of storage, the thoughts needed to come out somehow. Partly due to your insecurities you hoped that by talking more, you’d be accepted and loved by someone—it hadn’t proved itself to be a successful method in the past and you weren’t sure it ever would be.

“I give, and give, and give. That’s all I do,” you continued, your voice now uneven and trembling slightly. “I give until I have nothing left. I’m terrified of the love I have because I know it will ruin me—it already has, and I know I will continue to let it.”

You were heaving out a sigh of relief at the massive weight being lifted off your chest, still feeling a sort of emptiness but a strangely pleasant lightness associated with it. Even then, you were perplexed by your own eagerness to share your entire life story to someone you met just hours ago, partially blaming the alcohol for how unfiltered you became and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking from the stoic look on his face and his big doe eyes blinking back at you.

It most definitely wasn’t a feeling of pity, that he knew. It felt almost like a weakness in the heart—like his heart wasn’t working properly—a fleeting lightness that passed through him, being simultaneously lulled to sleep by a single gesture and set on fire by your every touch.

Your eyes were glossed over, from your lengthy outpour or intoxicated state Heeseung wasn’t certain, but he held not a single ounce of doubt of the amount of love you held. Unsure of what came over him, he was resisting the urge to lean over and cup the sides of your face and tell you that even in his broken, wretched state, he was willing to accept anything you had to give and return everything and more.

“It’s really late. I can drive you home,” he was offering. He convinced you he was sobering up with a lazy smile plastered on his face, yet you couldn’t help raising your brows at the slight flush of his cheeks and numerous empty beer cans in the cup holder.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” you were speaking nonchalantly before turning to look at him with what Heeseung thought he saw were literal stars in your otherwise cloudy eyes. At the implication of your words, he could feel and hear his heart beating at a pace so fast it rang through his ears. As much of an open book as you were, he didn’t expect that from you and you even stunned yourself as the words left you, mouth now agape as you stared back at him.

You wanted to blame your lack of sobriety yet again but you knew that the flood of emotions had put your mind in a remarkable state of clarity. His calmness—how he listened and watched attentively without any questions, just simply looking at you with a fondness in his eyes—fastened you with a sense of immense trust in him.

Thankfully, he was quickly nodding and turning around to turn on the lights that lit up the rest of his van. In contrast to his somewhat rugged appearance, his space was neat and cozy and it amazed you how few belongings he had; everything fit in his van and there was almost no clutter. The only hint of personality and life you could find was the guitar hanging over the bed, and you were smiling to yourself knowing he at least had music to accompany him.

Heeseung had suggested cooking some ramen for you, but you simply shook your head with a sleepy smile and told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of his sheets and patted the spot next to him. There wasn’t much space in the van for anything other than a bed and a small stovetop and you were skeptical there would be enough room for you to both lay comfortably.

You fit yourself on the mattress between him and the back door while he crawled under the covers, pushing his pillow toward you behind your back and grabbing an extra one from beneath the bed for himself. You were still sat leaning against the side of the van as you contemplated your next move, wondering whether you should prioritize comfort or decency and you squirmed at the thought of your dirty jeans on someone else’s sheets.

A brief glance at Heeseung, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands resting over his stomach, had you quickly tucking yourself under the blankets and unzipping your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them over your ankles. You were shuffling downward and placing the now folded jeans beside your pillow, facing away from Heeseung as you pulled the covers up to your chest.

You couldn’t tell but Heeseung had visibly stiffened, eyebrows now slightly furrowed in concentration as he attempted to fall asleep, willing himself to think about anything other than you and your presence inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, breath uneven at how you were so similar in the way you craved connection yet different in the sources of your troubles and the way you coped—one capable of giving anything and one who didn’t know how to give at all.

You felt the bed dip and you could hear Heeseung shuffling around behind you, his heavy breathing against your neck telling you he was now facing you, and still lying on your side when you felt his fingers graze across your hip bone.

The heat radiating off his body behind you was seeping into your own skin, slowly building into a burn before you were flipping yourself over to face him and immediately thrown off by just how close he was. A slight lean forward from either of you would close the gap, and your eyes were unconsciously flickering down to his lips at the thought.

You were pulling yourself flush against him, savoring the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together, resting your head in the crook of his neck and he let out a sharp gasp from above you. You could feel his heart beating underneath your palms as you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest. A slight crane of your neck and you were tentatively placing your lips against his jaw, a shaky breath of Heeseung’s fanning your face from the action.

As your kisses moved from his jaw down to his neck, his mouth was parting softly, lifting his head into the pillow to provide you with more access. One particularly harsh suck against his collarbone had him surging forward for more, latching onto the hem of your shirt and fingers hesitantly grazing the waistband of your underwear.

Heeseung was then leaning forward onto his elbows, the hand that was previously slotted between your bodies wrapping around your shoulder to pull you up and level to him, bringing you into a gentle kiss that caused the hairs on your arms to raise.

It overwhelmed you how thrilling yet calming it felt to be kissing him. You were completely drinking him in, the touch of his skin against yours heating up the pits of your stomach and causing shivers to wrack through you and simultaneously taking your mind off of everything else.

He was gentle with his touch, but his lips were rough and chapped and he was kissing you with so much longing and desperation that for a second, you contemplated whether this was his first time kissing someone, craving any and every bit of physical contact. You quickly dismissed the thought as he took advantage of your inattentiveness with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth skillfully.

Your stomach churned and you were writhing under his touch from the way your tongues intertwined, a pit of heat rising in your lower stomach. Heeseung was letting out a choked whimper at the feeling of your hands reaching underneath his shirt, smoothing over the skin of his stomach.

“You okay?” you were whispering as you pulled back, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. He held your gaze for a few seconds, both delicacy and sharpness etched in his features, before his lashes fluttered and he was shaking his head, burying it in your neck. Your hands were sliding along his scalp to soothingly stroke his hair, heart aching at the vulnerability and rawness with which he looked at you.

It wasn’t clear whether the cause of his feverish state was from the simple presence of you in his arms, but something told you that you should’ve seen it coming when the way he looked at you gradually began changing as the hours progressed.

You were pulling back and placing one last, soft kiss against his lips, lingering for a few moments too long before wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight embrace and rubbing his back gingerly.

Heeseung was redirecting his attention out at the sky through the back window, foolishly looking for you and him in the stars. Some stars gradually dim and lose their luster, and on a rainy night, you might never see them again.

You weren’t thinking about what would happen when the stars faded and the sun rose, or when you would see him again—you didn’t need to see him or be physically near him to feel him. Your subconscious was finding comfort simply from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, your thumb rubbing circles over his shirt while you listened to Heeseung's soft breathing and the sound of the rain beginning to fall against the windows.

A/N: the bolded quote is based on something I saw on twitter: “I’m scared of the love I have for you. Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it. I love hard.” but I couldn’t find the source, so credits to the original owner.

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagine #heeseung scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen heeseung #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung imagine

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zee-143 · 10 months ago

Text

~𝙵𝚊𝚗!𝚂𝚔𝚣 𝚡 𝙸𝚍𝚘𝚕! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜~

♡A/N: This is what won the polls so this is what I'll write. Also ty to everyone who likes my content. I have other fics coming up so stay tuned and hope you enjoy this one❤❤ Skz aren't idols in this btw. Just you :) I did reread this but if u do find mistakes I apologize 😭

SKZ x Fem! Reader

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Warnings: Noneee

Chan

He first heard about your music through a friend.

He was instantly hooked

He practically loved every single song you wrote and released

Chan was definitely a committed fan too

He'd follow all your social media just to stay updated on everything you were doing

Nothing creepy. Only to stay informed of course

If you had a fan meeting? He would totally be there. Even if it meant dragging a friend along with

A concert? He will be there just to support you

Chan simply loves anything you do. Whether it be the way you eat or talk. Everything just seems so... Perfect

Now, as a fan, Chan knows he shouldn't get too attached but its been difficult to say the least

Ever since that one encounter with you, Chan couldn't help but get a little excited at the thought of you

It was your 5th fan meeting. You were happily greeting fans, receiving their gifts or compliments like a complete professional. Chan stood in line, excitedly tapping his feet. He held a paper bag(that was your favorite color) with loads of gifts in them.

The line moved quite slowly but Chan didn't mind. If it was to see you, he'd wait a century. The closer he moved though, the more excited and nervous he became.

Finally, it was his turn to meet you

You happily greet him and he greets back. You spark up a little conversation by complimenting his outfit. Chan compliments back, saying how he admired your outfit too.

Chan revealed all the presents he bought for you. You were extremely surprised by how many things they were. Your staff can along, taking the gifts and placing them with the others

"You didn't have to buy all that stuff you know" You laughed. Your smile caused a light pink to spread across Chan's face. "I don't mind. You really inspire me and make me very joyful. It's the least I can do" Chan grins confidently. You nod, signing the poster and album he brought along

"Well, thank you so much. It's really amazing that I get to make fans like you so happy. It makes me happy. Don't stop smiling for me, alright? " He never forget those words. He never forgot his promise to her. He smiled, whenever a smile needed to be present.

Chan sometimes wonders if you remember him. It is unlikely. You do have millions of fans everywhere all around the world. Meeting you was enough for him though. It was just enough.

Minho

He was just scrolling through YouTube one day when he came across on of your music videos. With 93 million views?

He felt that was a little much but who knows maybe it wasn't bad.

Minho was wrong though. It wasn't just bad. Your music was 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. He felt like he just found a drug and you were the dealer.

He tried not admitting how much he actually liked your music but failed

The posters on the walls aren't there for nothing obviously

He loved your dance style. It was so clean yet fun. He'd spend hours in his room just watching performance videos and trying to master your dances

Minho was intrigued by your stage presence more than anything. You captivated the crowd with just one look. You definitely had a way with face expressions and emotions

His room was filled with different types of merchandise. From posters to photo cards to albums to hoodies and even more

With all the merch though, it was hard to keep his little obsession a secret. And not because he was embarrassed. He just didn't want people getting all nosy with this one little interest. It was his and his alone.

One moment he won't forget was that one live he watched

Minho wasn't particularly feeling well that day but luckily you were on the rescue. You decided to go live and just ramble about whatever has been happening. Nothing special, which Minho didn't mind. He just loved your voice.

Minho was slightly bored. He deciding on commenting something. It's not like he was hoping for you to see it. He typed out something sweet but simple: 𝘐𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. He read through the comment before sending it through

You, on the other hand, we're reading through the comments until one caused you to raise your eyebrows and smile. "I'm feeling really bad today but your voice makes everything a little brighter" You read.

Minho practically panicked, noticing you read his comment. That was 𝙝𝙞𝙨 comment. He slapped his cheek just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And sure enough he wasn't.

"I'm sorry that you're feeling bad but it'll get better. Life sucks but don't let that stop you. I'm glad I'm helping just a bit. To which ever fan who commented that and everyone else, I love you so much and don't ever forget that" You raised a thumbs up before staring back down at your phone, looking for more comments to read

Minho felt his heart skip a beat. Skip multiple beats in fact. Though the last few words weren't only directed towards him it felt that way. And that's all that matters.

Changbin

Changbin had always been a fan of you. Ever since debut he was rooting for you to succeed

And boy did you do just that

You had millions of fans from all over the globe now and he felt proud of you for that. He loved that you got where you wanted to be.

He enjoyed more of your older songs as that's what he's used to but the newer songs are amazing too.

What really stood out to him about you though was your laugh. You had such a pretty and contagious laugh. Every video he watches, he just hopes you'll laugh. It makes him smile.

He also relates to you food wise. Changbin is someone who loves food and for you to love food as much as he does. Well, that's nice to hear

It was funny how stupidly similar you both were but who knows.. Maybe he's just being delusional

He sometimes thinks about what it would be like to befriend you. He was positive that it wouldn't be a boring experience that's for sure.

He basically stalks your Instagram account and other social media too.

If you post something, he's most likely already seen it or read it. Everything you post is something different, so he always makes sure to stay updated

He also noticed how you both practically have the same sense of humor. Any joke you say seems to crack him up more than anything else

Changbin was watching a recent vlog you recorded and couldn't help but notice a funny detail. After the video he hopped onto Twitter and shared his observation

'𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 (𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦) 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 2 𝘵𝘰 3 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴. 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥'

A few hours, Changbin returned to Twitter noticing the attention his post got. Many were agreeing and others were just pointing out other details. But one comment left him shocked

He couldn't believe it. He even clicked on the profile and did everything. And surely enough, that comment was from you

'𝘓𝘰𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 😭"

You liked his little joke. YOU ACTUALLY LIKED IT. He tried not to scream as he was in a restaurant with a bunch of friends. He must have been dreaming, or dead maybe.

Either way, he was glad you got to laugh at his silly comment. Who knows. Maybe they'll be more silly comments you'll see and laugh at even more

Hyunjin

Hyunjin loves you. And when I say love, I mean he 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨 you.

He listens to your music every single day. Maybe while painting or doodling, he played one his favorite songs

I mean, all your songs were his favorite song, but he had a few that he held close to his heart.

When with friends, he always has an urge to bring you up in literally anything conversation

"Did you see (name) at Paris Fashion Week "

"Did you know (name) can do that too"

"Woah, that reminds me of (name). She's a great idol and her music is fantastic! "

Just a few examples of his undying love to you

Hyunjin really believes that you both are soul mates. Now, that is quite delusional but it makes sense! (To him anyway)

You once described, in an interview, what your type is and he ticked all the boxes. But maybe that's just his ego talking. Just a hopeless romantic in love

He celebrated your birthday like it was his own.

His gallery was filled with more pictures of you than his own family

It was all very concerning but Hyunjin didn't care. He was happy. He was happy knowing you.

Hyunjin did do other things too. He occasionally posted his art which gained lots of attraction. It was good after all. At some point, you mentioned how you didn't know what cover to use for your upcoming album.

Hyunjin took it upon himself to make a fan made album cover. It was soo good, people actually thought it was official. You soon saw the cover and was so impressed. You needed to use it. It was perfect

Hyunjin woke up to something unexpected the next day. Other than the thousands of notifications, he got a DM. From you. He almost dropped his phone from pure surprise

'𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦!! 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵!! 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵, 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵? '

'𝘠𝘶𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. 𝘐𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯 😖"

"𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭!! 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 :)"

"𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘳!!"

And with that, Hyunjin's artwork was the official album cover

He was over the roof. Seeing his art piece on the YOUR official album with YOUR songs. Okay, saying he was over the roof is an understatement

You later had an interview about the album and basically praised Hyunjin for his work for around 2 minutes. He watched that interview more than he could count. Needless to say, he didn't want to forget this moment.

Jisung

Jisung wasn't an artist but he liked music. Music was like a child to him. To some extent anyway

It did make sense though

His father was the owner of a huge kpop company. The company you were under in fact

Jisung wasn't interested in your music at first. Until, he followed his father in the recording studio you were working in. It was just a check up on your latest song. After one listen, he couldn't get the song out of his head.

He did some research about you and realized you were quite a popular idol in the community. That's where his fan obsession began

He liked watching all your interviews. Your personality was something he couldn't get over. You were always so nice and thoughtful towards anyone around. He was very intrigued by everything.

Though you were in the same company his father owned, you both never interacted. Mainly because he avoided you as much as possible. Embarrassment was not an option.

As a fan, Jisung listened to your music. He had a special playlist just for your songs and songs you liked.Songs he thought 𝙮𝙤𝙪 would like too.

He basically carried a photocard of you everywhere. Jisung believes it brings him good luck. Which was a cute gesture but it did sound a bit silly

He didn't care at all. Even if it was silly, it kept him at ease. He liked it that way

You had to write a song for a special performance. It was to be the company's 50th birthday but you had no ideas. That's when Jisung came in

"I heard you were having trouble with song writing. I brought my son to help you. He is quite the song writer" Your boss smiled. You eyed Jisung curiously. This was all to sudden but time was running out. You allowed it.

Jisung on the other hand was a nervous wreck. He couldn't even focus without getting scared. You noticed this and decided to give him some space.

When you returned, the song was finished. You excitedly examined the lyrics. You were impressed to say the least. The lyrics naturally connected to you, as if they were your own

"Oh my- this is perfect Jisung. You really are a great song writer"

"Really? It's not dumb or anything...? "

"Not at all. It's so professional and well done. Good job"

You gave the male a quick but thoughtful hug. He hugged back. You were his favorite idol and he couldn't believe he got to be this close to you. It was a dream come true.

The song did extremely well. At the show, Jisung got a whole shoutout with his face on the big screen. He was embarrassed but glad. Glad he could help you out.

Felix

Felix found you through Tiktok. How? Well your MAMA performance was trending and it was practically every where. It was impossible for anyone not to see at least one edit.

Felix did watch MAMA and he knew about you. He has known for a while. But wasn't a fan. He just knew you were a popular idol. What he didn't know though, was how obsessed he would become.

Like Minho, Felix was mesmerized by how you dance. He imagined you were the best dancer he had ever watched. Felix would often practice your dances, simply for fun

Everything was for fun

Did he read the fan fictions? Well... No but yes. He did read them but only sometimes. And he only read the cute stuff. He was delusional at the thought of you. Just a cute fanboy

Felix absolutely loved your smile. He often called you a sunshine or something like that. He believes you bring sunlight and everything bright. Anyone could go blind even looking at you or that's what he thought.

Your voice. He was one of the fans who could listen to your voice for ages on end.

He was passionate about you. Talking about you just came naturally or even accidentally though he did feel embarrassed after rambling. He didn't want to seem annoying in front of his friends. It was hard to control.

Felix watched all the edits he could find. Any edit. Any meme. Any video. He would watch it. He enjoyed all the content fans made of you.

Like most, Felix had merchandise. All neatly organized and placed in his room. He didn't like misplacing any of it. Not because it was expensive. He just didn't need to loose anything. It was all important to him

Felix opened Tiktok one day. You posted a challenge. A challenge for a song that he was in love with. There wasn't one day he didn't think of this song. It didn't have any choreography ... Until now

So a challenge? He had to try it out!

After a few hours of practice and life regret, Felix memorized the dance. He joined on the challenge posting his version on Tiktok.

Felix knew the video was going to blow up but he didn't expect it to get him a deal with you

Now, the male was patiently sitting in your studio. A few staff members with him. You hurriedly entered the studio.

"Hello! So glad you could make it Felix"

"Uhm... It wasn't a problem but... Why am I here? "

"I need a dance partner. I saw your video giving a go at my challenge. You're perfect"

Felix tilts his head. He was curious about why she chose him but decided to learn that later on. Hey, he was given a deal to dance with someone he admired. Why not take it.

He worked really hard to learn all the dance steps and everything. With you of course. You were extremely helpful. Your smile had to be the best part of everything though. It was as bright as he thought.

The concert day has to have been the best though. The performance went really well. Felix became quite popular with your fans. Everyone was so supportive rather than jealous. It was the best day of his life. That day never left his mind. It definitely was something he'd never forget.

Seungmin

Seungmin isn't your biggest fan.

He does like your music. Your personality. Etc. He is definitely not a BIG fan of you

You were just an idol he was fond of

Seungmin had few amounts of merchandise. Again, he's just fond of you

Seungmin was captivated by your singing voice. That's what he first noticed. Nothing healed his heart more than your singing.

It was a melody he simply wouldn't get over. Seungmin, personally, sang himself. He actually was a trainee under your company too.

He'd often bump into you but it wasn't a huge deal. He saw you as any other idol in the company. Just a human with a big platform

You both often had a brief and quick interaction before moving on. Getting on with your own lives.

He was more normal about you than the others, obviously

The thing that changed though, was how much of a fan he was towards you

The company gave him a challenge to learn then sing a cover from the list that was provided

Alright, seems easy. He chose the hardest song. One of yours. Did he want to show off? Yes. Was it because he wanted to impress you? To an extent, definitely

The highnotes in the song are what he was ready for. He practiced. And practiced. And practiced some more.

Seungmin, like his other trainee peers, we're given the same challenge. One by one, they all perform their covers in front of the judges. The judges were honest. Really honest from what he heard. A girl ran back crying. Seungmins breath quickened and he lightly tapped his foot on the ground

He was anxious

His turn arrived. He stared at the judges, noticing you were there. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 up, he thought. The greetings and introductions ended. Now it was time for Seungmin to impress everyone (cough cough you)

The song reached its end. The room was quiet. The judges glanced at each other, with stunned expressions.

They all gave their feedback. The feedback was honest but decent. Your opinion was something that stuck with him forever though

"Well, that was my song and I haven't heard anyone sing it better than me. I'm actually so impressed Seungmin. I'm jealous. You have an angelic voice which I need on one of my songs. "

Everyone agreed and nod their heads

"When you debut, I'd love you to feature on some of my future music"

Seungmin left the company that day in a cheery mood. He couldn't believe one day you'd want to work on a song with him. Oh he was definitely going to learn as many of your songs as possible now.

Jeongin

Jeongin is definitely someone who keeps his love for you a personal thing

Only close friends knew about it

He liked it that way

Your fashion sense is something he is obsessed with. Jeongin is someone who takes time when it comes to dressing up. As soon as you mentioned, in an interview, that most of your stage outfits or general outfits are what you pick yourself. He could definitely relate

You dress like someone who cares about what you look like. Just like him.

You are an ambassador for a fashion brand after all. His seen plenty of ads in the mall or on the internet of you. He liked pointing them out in front of his friends

Jeongin thought you were sweet. Sweet like honey

He had no specific reason on why he wanted to know so much about you. Maybe it was his personal connection with you.

Or maybe he just wanted something to be attached to

Either way he was a big fan. Jeongin was simple about this whole thing. He felt happy when watching your content

He definitely was over protective about you though. He knows he shouldn't. It just sucks when someone comments a negative opinion. Of course, criticizing an idol is necessary for improvement. Though some take it too far. That's what pisses him off

Other than that, Jeongin is relaxed. Most of the time, especially in winter, he wears the same exact beanie. When asked about it, he doesn't really know how to answer but it is quite a story.

He attended a concert of yours. He was close to the stage which was just perfect. Of course, he brought friends with him. Friends that are fans as all.

Jeongin practically sang his heart out to every song. One of your more intense songs with a lot of energetic dances played. While dancing your beanie accidentally flew into the crowd. Luckily, Jeongin caught it.

The performance ended. You joked about the beanie flying off and asking if anyone caught it. Jeongins friends screamed in his direction bringing all the attention towards him.

A bright red paints on his face. The concert venue was dim. You hopefully couldn't see it. You laughed lightly noticing the shock in his face

"You know what. You can keep it"

Jeongin frantically shook his head insisting on you taking it back.

"Really, take it. You spent a whole ton of money just to see me sing and dance. It's the least I could do for such a cute fan"

Jeongin felt like passing out. One of his friends roughly shook him while the crowd screamed

He smiled at the thought, anytime he saw the piece of clothing. It was a wonderful experience. An experience he had to relive again.

◦•●◉✿♡✿◉●•◦

A/N: This has to have been the longest ass thing I've written so far. But I hope you enjoyed this little thing. Thanks soooo much for reading ♡♡

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androxys · 1 month ago

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Over on Reddit, I've been seeing an increasing number of posts along the general tune of "what background reading to I need in order to get to [story I actually want to read]?" Some answers are more generous than others, suggesting long runs that provide you with The Most Context Possible for whatever story the person is interested in. I'm just going to say, with genuinely as much kindness possible, just start wherever. Starting is the hard part, and the rest unfolds from there.

Feeling like you have to have read "enough" to be allowed to read a comic is a losing game because there are simply so many. In my opinion, the best way to get into reading comics is to start with collected trades, because they're specifically slices of a much longer canon that are able to stand on their own! From there, all the stories ask is for you to be able to nod along and allow the story to unfold before you. If it engages you and you really want to learn more about the character, great! Now you have a toehold and can start jumping into the larger run of comics, either by following along what comes next or by jumping back and catching up on what happened before.

Because another secret is, even if you did your best effort to try to prepare well for the thing you want to read, that still doesn't completely prevent the writer from throwing in a completely different character or group into the mix. For example, let's say you wanted to read the Death of Superman story. You did a deep dive on Superman stories to prepare. You feel ready for this! ...And then there's a whole issue of Justice League America with characters you've never encountered before. But that's okay! I promise it's okay. You don't need to know Bloodwynd's character history to understand what the Justice League is doing in this story. You just have to nod along and let the story run its course. Trust the storyteller.

If you're worried that you're going to pick the "wrong" starting place, and that you're going to read bad writing or poor characterization or some AU that hasn't been relevant in 30 years... it's still okay. I promise. If you find that you're not enjoying the comic you're reading, put it down and find a different one. The thing about comics as a medium is that there are as many genres and writers and artists and styles as you could possibly want. Reading a bad comic does not permanently stain you, and in fact will make the next, better comic you read even sweeter.

And who knows? After you've started, and done more reading and know more context, you might return to that original story and now be able to read it and think about it in an entirely new light! And you wouldn't have been able to have the experience of recognizing your own growth if you had waited until you were "ready" before.

#chit chat #dc comics #this post is inspired by someone recommending the entire Johns GL run to prepare for reading Blackest Night #which yes will certainly give you the Absolute Most Context for what happens in blackest night #but do you need that? not in this blogger's opinion!#and it obviously moved me

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lucrativesoul · 1 year ago

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Divine Beings

summary: your new job at the town's old mansion-museum is a dream, but it's even more so to be working within its centuries old library. this building is fueled by the ancient lore of the undead walking the halls. it's all just tales, right? your archive master and new boss, Leon, knows all about those divine beings.

pairing: leon kennedy x female reader

word count: 13.0k

warnings: smut, borderline public sex (no voyeurism), blood ingestion

a/n: i can't begin to tell you guys how excited i am to be posting this. consider this my halloween gift, but we all know the darker genres are not just for the season! I had so much fun writing this. diving head first into this has really helped me through this rough time in my life situationships are hell and if no one got me at least leon got me :') (and u guys ofc) thank you so much for stopping by and reading, i really really hope you enjoy, and I promise to be back soon with another one. <3

“It won’t be too much of a challenge.” The soft voice coming from the woman in front of you bounced off the walls and high ceilings, making her even harder to decipher than she was in the first place. “All questions about the archive can be redirected to the master archivist, and I’m sure sooner or later you will be retaining all of that important information.”

You said nothing as you followed her down the hall, the click of your heels ever prominent amongst the deserted expanse. For a mansion built hundreds of years ago, they did well to keep it tidy and up to standard. You were impressed.

At the end of the long hall, yellow from the lamps glittering in intervals in the hall, you could see a grand set of large mahogany doors, intricately carved with inlays that you can only imagine must have taken just as long to complete as the residence itself. The initial nerves of the morning were gone, and now you were just more excited than anything to be able to enter one of the oldest libraries in a hundred mile radius, and now you work here.

The smaller lady who was guiding you, whose name you have already forgotten, leaned all her weight on the doors and pushed both of them inward, the two slabs of wood swinging open revealing possibly your most anticipated sight of your life.

The entryway was one tiny landing, with large staircases birthing off the sides to your left and right, making a gentle curve to the main floor. The walls, well, simply put, there were no walls, rather everything that would have been a wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, each one packed with differing widths, heights, colors of books, paperback, leather, hardcover, fabric. In the middle of the room were more free standing shelves, still packed to the brim, and the occasional long wooden table with seats scattered about the room. Directly opposite the entryway was a large window, facing the front of the mansion, and it served as the main attractor to the building. Rectangular at the bottom, it shaped off at the top, nearly fifty feet high, in a gothic style pointed arch, nestled gently in between two, much skinnier, similarly shaped windows, which were fixed off at the top with stained glass, giving the brown room rays of color on the sunny days.

You stepped forward, and having seemingly expected this reaction, your guide didn’t say a word for a moment while you took in your grand view. You almost couldn’t speak. It was more than you were expecting. It was everything.

Though it was a sunny day, you already found yourself anticipating the oncoming bad weather, knowing the treacherous drive through the rain would be so worth it to be here on a rainy day.

“Let’s go down to the archive office.” The woman’s tone was gentle, knowing you most likely would not have moved from your spot if she didn’t push you along. You followed her down the left staircase.

There were a few stragglers in the grand room. The manion’s open hours were not near close yet, but you were surprised there weren’t more people here at this hour. You doubted that it had anything to do with the age old rumors about the estate, there was no way people truly kept away because of those tall tales.

After coming off the staircase, you craned your neck up high, reveling in the surrounding papers and scrolls adorning the walls. You tried your best to keep up with the woman while also having your attention diverted, but had to fully look down when she ducked into a corridor below the main landing.

This hallway was plain and simple, and you felt your resolve slowly crumble away as you remembered why you were here–a job.

“The furthest of my knowledge is to bring you into the archive office and wait for the master archivist to meet you here. If you want to take a seat, he should be here shortly. Welcome to the museum crew.” She smiled at you, and after a thank you, you pulled out the seat in front of the desk and sat down. Alone in the room now, you turned your head to look at the surroundings, trying to gauge what type of environment this would be.

Despite your history in the field, you were still surprised when you got a call back wanting to have an interview, and when that went well and you were hired a week later, shock still warmed your body, paired with the growing excitement when you realized you would be working in the epicenter of your old town’s rich history museum and archive, and the home of all the town’s tall tales.

With all your years of studying classic literature spinning the yarn of mythical creatures, it was a no brainer when you saw this opportunity present itself.

You jumped in your chair when your name was spoken in a low rasp. You turned around briskly.

“I’m sorry, you startled me.” You stood in an instant, extending your hand, ready to introduce yourself, but it appeared the stranger already knew who you were.

“It’s alright, many say I have that effect.” You sat down at his gesture to do so, and he walked around the opposite side of the bland, deep wooden desk. This man, instantly captivating, wore a simple white button down with a crisp black vest over top. He had a wiry pair of glasses tucked into the collar, where the top button lay opened. His hair was a dirty blonde, browning at the roots. The sharp contours of his face showed years of experience, and you caught no air of uncertainty from the way he presented himself. Intrigued would be an understatement.

“Did our lobby host introduce you well? I know one walk down the foyer isn’t nearly a fraction of the time needed to look around, but, maybe it gave a taste to what’s to come.”

You nodded gently, your eyes still trained on his face. “Oh, yes, she most definitely let me take it in for a moment. I can’t wait to know everything better.”

He nodded, shifting through a folder and some papers. You were almost embarrassed at how you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, not even for a second, hoping the staring would come second to whatever information he was about to share with you.

“What drew you here? It’s quite tucked away.” He was still not looking at you, so you made no move to avert your own gaze.

“Well,” You began, taking a second to form a proper sentence. “I’ve always wanted to work in a grand archive like this one. It is just so full of new opportunities, new experiences. I’ve always loved this place.”

He nodded. “I felt the same as well. I wish I could tell you how swelled I was when I walked in here the first time, but it was so long ago, I barely remember it. Anyway,” He studied the paper intensely, then looked back up at you. You felt heated suddenly. “You had a pretty extensive background in literary culture, criticism, and classic studies. You were with a publishing branch for a few years?”

You nodded. “It didn’t pan out to my hopes, and I jumped at this chance when I saw they were on the hunt for a new archivist.”

He hummed. “I was. I was looking for someone new. Our last had left us suddenly, we had a vacancy.” You nodded again, the innate curiosity taking over about the ex-archivist. “So, you understand the majority of your job title, yes?” Nodded again, but said nothing so he could continue. “Basically, working side by side with me, the better half of our tasks will unfortunately be rearranging once the public comes through, they tend to leave things everywhere, I’m sure you know, and the other half is once our doors are closed, we do many of the repairs on the classics, restocking our souvenir books, and the tedious paperwork that comes along with the museum establishment.”

For a final time, you nodded. “I’m greatly looking forward to it.”

Now, he looked into your eyes, and he tilted his head gently forward. “I’m greatly looking forward to you joining us. As of right now, it’s just me and one other, so now it’s three.”

You smiled, then it faltered a moment once you remembered something. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if you said your name.”

His lopsided grin painted a picture in your mind that you knew you would be seeing even when you closed your eyes. “Leon Kennedy. Master archivist.”

–

You hadn’t imagined you would live to see a day when you were looking forward to stepping into your place of work, but this had proven you wrong. You were motivated by the mere thought of being surrounded by all the books and pages, all the knowledge you could possibly dream about, learning something new every day.

But, you knew secretly since starting, you would be lying to yourself if you denied the effect that Leon had on your willingness to come in everyday. He greeted you with gentleness, and you couldn't help but always match his energy when you walked into the office in the morning hours. Always spotting the grin on his face at the sight of you as well. It grew to a blazing heat in your chest to see this reaction.

There was a routine you followed with great ease after only a week. It truly was the most of what Leon had said it would be, and to your own surprise, when curious visitors asked about the archive’s collections, you picked up on the correct answers faster than you had expected.

One of your favorite end of day tasks, oddly enough, was replacing the books that visitors had taken off the shelves to browse. It exposed you to so much literature and titles that you had or hadn’t heard of, and gave you a better idea of the archive itself, and its shelf locations. There was nothing more relaxing in your life than admiring the centuries of artform adoring these bookcases.

Here, you found yourself sliding leather bounds back into their places, reveling at every cover for as long as you could get away with, feeling the slick material slide under your fingers as you pushed them into their homes on the shelves. Taking two steps forward, looking down at the engraving in the cover, embossed in golden letters, you startle when you knock into something hard, grip hardening on the book so as not to drop or damage it.

“I’m so sorry, Leon. I didn’t even hear you coming. Very quiet.” He looked down at you, his deep black shirt sucking the color out of everything around him. An amused expression danced on his features.

“So people have told me. I was trying to find you earlier for a question, but you’ve eluded me for the last thirty minutes.”

You smiled gently, but had to avert your eyes down to the books you were still caressing, lest your eyes should wander over the fabric stretched thin over his upper arms. You did not need this mental image lasting with you for who knows how long.

“Sorry for that, but, here I am. What’s up?”

Leon, so you have come to the conclusion, is much different than any overseer of a job you have had in the past. HIs gentle authoritative style pushed you in the correct direction he wanted you to take as an archive employee, but he never became harsh or strict with any of his guidelines. In fact, the way he approached conversation felt much more like a casual coworker rather than a boss.

“I had an opportunity you may be interested in. Finish your tasks here, and come up to my office. We can discuss it, I think you’ll be intrigued.”

You nodded, but grabbed his attention quickly at the notice of a small piece of information. “Wait, Leon,” He turned around at the sound of his name. “Your office? I don’t know where that is, I don't think I have been there yet.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course, I forgot. I’ll wait over by the information desk for you to finish. Don’t rush.”

You nodded, though he had already turned around. You took an extra second to trace his path with your gaze, wondering what this tight, breathless feeling in your chest was every time he was in your presence.

With empty hands, you stalked over to the center of the room, finding Leon’s back to you, hands shuffling through a stack of folders. He disregarded them when he heard you approach.

“Follow me.” Then, with a small impressed gesture on his face, “Faster than I expected.”

You said nothing as you followed him through the library, watching his back intently as if something were going to happen any second. Surely he could feel the way you were staring, how could he not? If this were you, you would have felt someone looking all over you.

He presented you to a discreet door tucked into the back wall of the archive, a mere few feet away from the large windows, now letting the dying sunset light in to paint the room orange. He stepped aside to let you in first, but what you were expecting to see was nowhere in sight. Instead of an office, a room, even a closet with a desk, chair, and maybe even a computer, it was a staircase. A spiral staircase at that, and it looked like it went up at least thirty feet.

“Your office is up there?” You couldn't help but ponder out loud while staring listlessly, yet amazed, above. You heard him snicker behind you.

“It is. How could I not have taken that one when presented to me? Go on. They won’t get any shorter.”

You shook your head to snap yourself out of the sudden daze, and carefully took the steps. This location was painfully plain compared to the rest of the archive, and part of you understood why, but also wished you had something to look at on the way up.

The tall, dark, wooden door presented in front of you looked like an import from the homes of the finest wood slabs of ebony, intricate carvings on each of the inlays. Not even the doors of the archive looked like this, it seemed such a waste to be hidden up these stairs, guarding Leon's private office. Maybe he personally requested this door to be here. What an interesting design choice, if so.

You pushed it open, not waiting for further instruction as there would have been nothing else to do. This office held far more personality than the one you were used to seeing on the ground floor, and you were positive you could spend just as many hours dissecting the shelves in this little room as you could on the main exhibit.

It was clear this room was built out of what might have been a buttress back in the gothic ages, the ceiling was high, circular and pointed, raw wooden beams were exposed to support the cone roof above you. The shelves were rounded, contrasted with the straight edge ones below. Books that looked as old as the dawn of time were cluttered on these shelves, a thought that almost made you panic, the treatment of them would make their casings fall off their backs faster than usual.

Leon didn’t miss any of your observations. “These are from a collection that I couldn’t possibly put down on the main floor, obviously they have seen better days. They don’t need more of the public’s touch to wither them even further.”

You swallowed, and forced yourself to face him. He was taking a seat in a grand maroon velvet desk chair. Even that looked ornate. “Aren’t you worried handling them like this is even worse?”

He gestured at the seat in front of the desk, then shook his head. He spoke only when you sat down. “They have been with me for years, I know how they behave by now.”

You had nothing to say in return, so you simply affixed your gaze onto his, waiting to hear the reason he brought you up here.

“You’ve found a passion in this place, I can tell.” His voice was low, and it made you shiver. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone treat this place like a living entity.”

“It feels alive…” You started, but had no way to finish. He was drawing the words right from your mind.

“I do believe so as well. What brought you here? Besides what you studied making this a readily available opportunity.”

You looked down for a moment. Truthfully, it was a little childish why you were here. You knew that much and you could at least admit that to yourself. But, could you admit that to Leon? It had turned out that you loved this place as much as you would love a home you had been in for years, this place never became a burden to walk into, and you doubted that it would ever become that. You didn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting to hear from you, but Leon could be trusted. You knew that well enough by this point. He expressed his gratitude to your presence to the archive many times and surely, don’t you owe him the truth for that?

“To be honest with you…” You started tentatively. His face showed no shift in expression. “I have loved this place since I was a child. Something about it, maybe the aura, drew me to it. That’s why I think I feel it… why it feels so alive to me.” He nodded, not interrupting your thoughts. “This town’s folklore is something I loved for all my life.”

This time, he closed his eyes and nodded slowly, as if finally understanding why you had come here. And, he did, as that once sentence, you knew, would explain to any local why you chose this mansion. This archive.

“Maybe that’s silly of me,” You shook your head at yourself slightly. “But I think I owe it to the child who directed my path in life.”

He smiled at you, no sense of mockery on his face. “Let me ask you this, though,” You sat still, waiting. “Do you believe?”

You did not need to think this time. “Yes. I do.”

Leon leaned back in his chair and let his forearms lay on the armrests by his sides. “I think you are wise for that. Many choose to stop believing in folklore once they hit such an age where they know stories from historical recounts, but, don’t you think the two meld together at some point?”

You nodded. “I have always believed in that. And as soon as I stepped in here… the minute I came here to get this job, and even as a child, when I saw this place, I knew the stories were true. There’s no way that this place doesn’t have its hidden secrets.”

“Hidden in plain sight. Everyone talks of the vampire roaming the halls.” Leon added.

You quirked a smile– you couldn't help it. “What’s not to believe about that? I can feel it when I'm here.”

Leon nodded, his smile not fading. After this conversation, you knew you made the right choice in choosing to trust Leon. How could you not?

“People are drawn here on the idea that they will spot him somewhere, but look far too closely. They think every staff member could be him in disguise. They look down every dark hallway wishing to see him slinking around the corner, trying to hide. They look in every window from the outside, thinking he is hiding from the sun. But, there comes the melding, and the separating of truth and fiction. Why should he be doing those things, because they believe it to be true, or because they were told to believe it?”

You had nothing to say to this at first. You knew Leon would be holding a plethora of information on the mansion-museum’s lore as being home to the city's resident vampire from centuries ago. You couldn’t consume enough information on the idea, and yet, Leon still stunned you with what he had to say about it, simply because he had been here to see the behavior of those who believe in him. You wished he would keep talking about it, but knew that the premonition of a mythical being lurking the hallways was probably not the reason he brought you up here to talk about in the first place.

“Your candor is appreciated here.” He held his smile, and his eyes were sincere along with his spoken words. The windows didn’t allow an incredible amount of light into the room, the lamp sitting by his side on the desk casting a yellow haze over the space, the red lampshade drenching everything above in a blood tint. Even through this distortion, you could see how blue his irises were. Icy. A tingle ran across the skin of your arms.

“Now, for what you are actually up here for.” He broke the gaze, and you involuntarily released a sigh of relief. Looking down at his desk, in nothing in particular, you noticed there was nothing of importance on its surface, he continued. “Every so often, for no reason other than to bring variety in, we have a few shelves in the center of the floor that we rearrange to bring in new displays, or to shift the attention to something else.” You nodded, and you were sure you knew he was going to ask for your assistance in moving everything. You didn't mind. “Right now the table has displays of books on the history of witchcraft and others of the sort, quite fitting for the upcoming season, but quite the insult to the monument they’ve decided to promote within.” He sighed. You couldn’t help but smile. “But, I think we can get even better.”

“I have ideas. I think I could help with this.”

Leon smiled wider. A gesture he doesn't often show to the general patronage. It made you feel warm. “That’s what I was hoping you would say. Now, though, an unfortunate part.” He sighed, and his smile disappeared. More shivers took place in your body of the heat. “I would prefer it to be done by the end of this week, and because the mighty institution is using the Halloween season to promote museum ticket sales,” Another sigh. “They’ve extended our opening hours. Now, we, as the archive, do have the liberty to close our area before they close the museum’s doors, but I've been strongly advised against doing so.”

You nodded again, listening. He shrugged, looking at you, as if waiting for an input you didn’t know you should give. You squeaked out an agreement.

“I would like to shift two days of your hours to overnight. Would that be a problem?”

“It’s not. This is my full time job now, so I'm at your expense.”

He chuckled softly at your words. “Not an expense, just… assistance.”

Nonetheless, even if Leon did agree to your words of expense, you would be agreeing. He told you the guidelines, don’t come in for the day shifts, just come in for the nighttime. He handed over a key, an old, brass one that he told you would unlock the large archive doors after hours. You agreed with no hesitation, of course.

You had discovered soon after this, that fear could exist in the same plane as excitement. Really, isn’t fear just an overwhelming excitement of something unknown? Standing in front of the mansion, you craned your neck as far back as your body would allow. The looming building was dark, save for a few spotlights, but other than that, it was as dead as the night around you. The suspicious lack of insect and animal life noises was eerie, but you swallowed that lump of nerves, and walked up to the front.

As Leon instructed you, flashing your badge to the night guards let you right through, and you followed the path you have come to know so well that led right to the archive doors.

It was a strange aura that surrounded you, one that made you hesitate briefly before unlocking, and relocking yourself inside. The air was so still, and that life you felt pulsing through the corridors on a daily basis was missing now. There was nothing, no one, no noise to fill your ears, so the blood pumping through was your only solace now. Before you could sit on this any longer and unease yourself further, you moved on.

The lock slid cleanly into place, and the resounding click that was heard resonated throughout the hall. You pushed the door open, wanting to get away from any undead lurking eyes that may be watching you.

Not turning to shut the door behind you, you stared out into the vast expanse of the dark archive. The shelves were still, though shadows flitted in between them as if dancing with the moonlight. Every time you blinked, dark figures appeared at the edge of your vision, teasing your brain, making a shudder do its rounds throughout your nervous system. Though you loved this place, the nighttime gave it a whole new personality you weren’t sure you were quite ready to uncover.

Turning to your right, you flipped the first two lightswitches, casting a spotlight down onto the center of the floor, and one at the door where you stood. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned back around.

“Leon!” You cried out.

Said man was in the center of the floor, as if coming out to greet you like it was the middle of the day. He had on a white button down, the first two loose around his neck, and his hair falling lazily over the left side of his forehead. It took even longer for your breath to still.

“You’re here?” You gasped out.

“Yes, I was wondering when you would get here. I guess you are right on schedule, though.” You carefully fled down the stairs, not taking your eyes off Leon, curious if he would disappear again.

“Here with all the lights off? How could you see?” He didn’t answer your question until you were now face to face with him, having placed your belongings on the staircase, figuring you would not be spending much time in the office.

He shrugged slowly. “You get used to it after a while. There’s something about this place at night, I don’t get many chances to enjoy it with only myself.” You said nothing to this, just trying to digest his logic. There was no point in arguing it.

“Well, we should probably get started then?” He smiled softly at your words and flung instructions at you, making the night go by as if you were asleep through it all.

With half of the display moved, Leon had stalked away to the main office, and you cleaned up the floor to pass until he let the both of you out. Standing next to the tall shelves, facing the window, you almost started to understand what Leon had said earlier. There is something about the place at night.

You had never thought you would get to experience that, though, of course. What other chance would you be wandering throughout these aisles all alone at night, with all the lights off? You were curious now, and jealous that Leon had been the one to experience that, and you might not ever.

You walked slowly towards the window, the lights behind you fading the further you went from them. Your fingertips grazed the edges of the shelves you walked along, as if picking up all the information held on them in one little touch. The night looked cold from where you stood, and you almost felt the temperature on your skin in that instant. The moon was full and bright, and it lit up your skin like the lights now behind you. Though these walls were thick and with plenty of objects in the room to muffle the sound, it could not drown out the roaring chorus of crickets perched in every branch right outside the glass. The chirps matched the beating of your heart, and soon the rush of blood was replaced by the insects' whispers, a cacophony of life, your vessel was the audience.

You saw yourself in the glass. Your skin lit up by the moon's graces, the hollows of your face carved out in deep shadows, you became painted into the history within these mansion walls, and you looked as if you always belonged. Eternal.

“The moon is bright.”

You gasped and startled again, turning swiftly to see Leon peering over your shoulder, looking at the same illusive mirror that you were. “You should stop doing that Leon, I’m going to have a heart attack one of these days.” You breathed out a laugh.

“I thought I was obvious enough, but I suppose not.” He looked past you back into the window again. “The moonlight makes you look marvelous.”

Your stomach twisted. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, and couldn't help but turn back around to look again, and dare you say, you agreed. Your airbrushed skin, even flawless in the reflection of the glass, a gentle chiaroscuro against the vast emptiness behind you. Except for–

“Full moon nights are when I feel the most company here. I think she wants to be alive here as well.” You turned again, seeing Leon having unmoved from directly behind you. The cool blue light sitting atop his cheekbones, highlighting strands of blonde hair, contrasting the blaze of his hazel eyes, which were unrelenting on you. He, too, was a relief sculpture under the coalescence of the moon and the shadows. Where was his portrait to be viewed next to yours?

“Yeah, I… I agree now.” Though you felt a shiver crawl through you, you couldn’t make yourself turn around again to look. Your body was preventing you from doing so. Simply, you could only walk past Leon, back onto the main floor.

The ride home along in your car proved no more solace than you were hoping. You could see the silhouette of the mansion grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, and it felt like departing from a friend who did nothing but tell all their troubles. It was hard to believe how quickly your image of the place shifted, though, you still felt so drawn, and so attracted to the premises. And, not to mention, the man within its walls.

What you saw puzzled you. Simply, it had been a trick of the light. You knew that there was no way the light from the moon was able to reach every point of the floor, so he was standing in the shadow. But, how had he approached so silently? Leon was always so silent. This wasn’t the first time the man has snuck up on you. A few others have said he gives them a fright as well, but it seems to happen to you much more often.

Leon was an enigma, in more ways than one. He spoke in riddles, or it felt like it. You read plenty of classics in your time studying literature, and it was as if he had taken his vocabulary straight from works published a century ago. With a borderline transatlantic accent, it always took you a moment to decipher his sentences. It wasn’t as if he read too many of the classics, it was like he came from one.

As silly as the idea might sound to others, you believed it fully. It was just a tall tale from times past, warning people of a monster that didn’t exist. They kept the legend going to fuel tourism and sell museum tickets, but some still believed, and one of those some was you. You felt this answer in your heart fully and truly, and while it scared you to a degree, it awoke an excitement as never before felt in you. That almost scared you more.

There was no way that Leon wasn’t the vampire roaming the halls of the old mansion and archive.

His aura was one you had never felt in a person before. You have been attracted to people in the past, but you never felt someone so physically radiant that it was almost tangible. His gaze cut right through you like the sharpest knife, bringing a stinging trail along your skin as well as the burning desire to feel it again. It was undeniable, you had never felt such an insane attraction to someone you barely knew, yet, knowing that plus your newfound discovery, which you fully believed in, you wanted to dive headfirst into this unknown territory to explore.

All day this weighed on your mind. You couldn’t rid Leon’s image from your thoughts. You couldn’t deny, even without the personality that occupied your thoughts, he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He was picturesque in form, a painting made by the most skilled hands. You were ashamed to admit, only slightly, that you were dying to know more about the maps of his body. He always hid under button up shirts, but none that were ever too big that you couldn’t tell he had large biceps, most of the time the sleeves rolled up so the veins in his forearm protruded with movement. The sight always made your mouth dry.

You had to assume, only based on these facts, that he must have been fit, and if he was, which you had no doubt of, paired with his stunning profile, you weren’t sure how you made it so far into this job without making an attempt to pass out in his arms.

As expected, you could think of nothing else leading up to the hours you had to join him back for the second overnight shift. You honestly forgot the whole purpose of you going at this time, all of that having been pushed to the side in favor of thinking of the man in charge of the place. You were nervous, yet anticipated your arrival, hoping to gain more clues to back up your (unwavering, in your mind) hypothesis.

The guards let you in without the flash of your badge. You slinked quietly through the main hall, footsteps bouncing off of every surface. There wasn’t a soul in sight, yet you felt life all over your body.

The key slid into the lock with ease, and the tell tale clink of the turn mechanism followed.

“Leon?” Your voice echoed through the archive as you shut the door behind you. The lights were off, once again.

You bound down the steps, dropping your belongings on the same stair as the previous night. This time, instead of heading right to the center of the floor to converge with Leon, you stood still on the last step.

“Leon?” You asked again after the man did not do his magical appearance trip at your entry. You felt a cold chill run over your skin. Now, you feel more alone than before. For the first time since becoming involved in the archive, the aisles and books were more sinister than inviting, and every dark corner had a spirit watching you.

You slowly left the stair you held solace on, and walked forward into the center of the room. It felt like every shelf and spine were staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to make a wrong move. You wanted to get to work, but you could barely will yourself back up the stairs to the lightswitch. You looked around again as if begging for help from a bystander who was not there.

There was a sudden shift in the air. You weren’t sure now if it was real or if you were hallucinating, but you felt a constricting sensation in your chest, and you felt not alone anymore. Leon was nowhere in sight, but you knew someone else was here.

Suddenly, you couldn’t take it anymore. The silence was enveloping you like a thick rope, and your breath was coming out sloppy. You had to leave.

You took one step backwards and hit a wall behind you. You yelped, not remembering stepping anywhere else besides the center of the room. You turned, and nearly jumped higher out of your body at the sight of what, or who, was behind you.

“You were down here with the lights off. Is something wrong or are you trying out my methods?”

Leon stood before you, in his usual uniform of a white button down shirt and black pants. His hair looked longer tonight, not pushed back with gel, but soft waves were falling across his face, pushed aside to let his sculpted face show through. Here, in the dark, he was much more brooding than he could have ever come across during your typical shifts. That gaze was not the friendly one you had seen in times past.

“No, no I just…” You swallowed, the words falling right out of your mouth. “I thought you would be here. Well, you are, now, but…” You gestured behind you, still feeling the presence of non-existent bodies.

Leon slowly nodded at your words, not moving towards you, but you felt his presence getting closer.

“I have been here. I was in the office.” He gestured behind him lazily, to the office you were used to frequenting as an employee. The door was closed.

You shook your head. “I didn’t hear you, though.” You looked again at the door, and when you looked back into his eyes, he knew what you were thinking. He was lying, and he knew you knew that.

“You know I’m quiet.” His tone felt like a surge straight from your head to your feet, rooting you into place no matter how much you urged your brain to send movement to your limbs.

“Well…” You pushed words out of your throat. “I guess let’s finish this, then.” You broke eye contact and finally felt your body moving forward, but you knew he was still looking at you. You could feel it.

The moon, if it were even possible, was even brighter this night. It’s full face projected into the windows like a spotlight, and once you were able to put your body into motion and further the project of moving book displays, you barely paid note of how Leon never turned the lights on for the both of you. Maybe he could see perfectly well.

It was nearing one in the morning at this point, and you had one last stack to move. You made gentle conversation with Leon throughout, refusing to put on a strange facade solely off of your own thoughts. He reverted back to his normal state, though normal is a generous word to use for a man like Leon.

You walked back to the table being used to house books while they are moved, and picked up the last stack. Bram Stoker, Dracula.

This made you snap your head up. You were sure this hadn’t been on the list set to display, yet, here it was. You looked around, trying to search out Leon to question him about this last minute addition. But, as expected, you realized, he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, you don't remember what he was doing last.

“Leon?” You looked back over to the office door, still closed. You would have heard if he went in there and closed it behind him. You put the stack of books down and walked (slowly, you now felt that desolate aloneness again) over to the back right corner, towards Leon’s private office.

You could not make yourself walk any quicker than the snail pace you currently set. It was odd, and you knew if you were afraid you should be walking faster, but for some reason, surrounded by these books and shelves, you felt as if the faster you moved, the quicker you would be caught. Caught by what? You couldn’t answer that question, yet the word suddenly appeared in your head to describe the situation.

You were distracted on the way to the back. You thought, again, you saw a drift of black smoke waft by as if it were another hallucination. You stopped in your tracks, heart in your throat. You shifted paths, only momentarily, you were now desperate to be back in the company of Leon, your supposed vampire master archivist.

The carpet below you muffled your footsteps, but still, you noticed they were loud enough to be heard, unlike how Leon had been appearing from behind you out of thin air. You almost had to squint as you walked by the windows, the moonlight a sudden burst of fireworks in contrast to the dim workspace you had been habiting. As expected, after leering around the corners, hoping to sneak up on the entity, there was nothing but empty space.

There was a light pattering at the window, and you turned your head to see the sky spitting down on you. The window, slowly becoming stained with raindrops, still held that brush stroked image of you, forever intertwined within the archive. It was a hypnotizing image, as if you no longer recognized yourself the more the rain came down. It was a comforting sound, the taps of the drops on the glass filling the void. It felt like another presence, and it calmed you down to a degree, as calm as you could allow yourself to get.

There was a creak from behind you, as if someone had opened a door, or stepped on a stair. You whipped back around, hoping to see Leon at this point, but still, he was nowhere to be seen. The room was still, everything untouched, but your eyes still scanned every crevice, convinced you were going to miss something if you weren’t careful.

The rain was still sounding off behind you, and you could see the bending of the light as it cast onto the floor. It was the only thing moving. You were far too on edge now.

You turned back to the window…

“Leon!” You took a step back, now more afraid than surprised at his sudden appearance. “Where did you come from? I’ve been looking for you.” You took a huff, trying to catch your breath from his genuinely scaring you. He was standing in front of the window, the moon behind him casting into a deep silhouette, face barely available.

“I’ve been here the whole time.” His voice was lower than before now, and you could barely piece together thoughts. He turned his head to the side, as if surveying the room that you were just inspecting. His eyes caught a glimpse of the light, and you saw the deep yellow in them. It sent a sudden pit to your stomach, and a memory to flash in front of your eyes.

The day he had taken you up to his office, and you spoke about the legends of the vampire, and why you were drawn to the house. You remember the look he gave you when he had said he appreciated your honesty.

Leon had blue eyes that day. That color was nowhere to be seen now.

You swallowed, trying to moisten your mouth in order to speak. “No… no you weren’t. I looked for you. You disappeared. And you just came out of nowhere. What is going on with you, Leon?” As hard as you tried to suppress it, you heard the trembling sounds that came out of your mouth. It was audible that you were panicking, and he knew it.

He stared at you for another moment. His arms were clasped behind his back. “What are you afraid of?”

The rumbling of his voice shot straight through you, to your dismay, and you forced all your composure together to face him without folding.

You gave him a once over, trying to find… something, that might give him away. What you were looking for exactly, you couldn’t say, but you couldn’t stare into his eyes any longer, especially having realized they were not the same eyes you saw a few days ago.

“You’re just… being odd, Leon.” You looked back into his eyes, or what you could see of them from underneath the shadows. Being this close to him, you felt like you were suffocating, and you needed air. “I would like to finish this now.”

You slowly side stepped him, Leon still unmoving in his position against the window. You sighed and turned your head, catching your rain-distorted reflection once again. It was you, a mirror image of someone suffering the same mystifying scenarios as you were in the present moment, standing ever alone against the bookshelves, not offering the comfort they usually do.

You stopped short in your tracks and did a double take. Now your body was fully turned toward the window.

Your reflection stared at you, looking just as perplexed as you did. Without shifting your eyes to the side, you saw the equally distorted reflection of the wooden shelves, illuminated under the lunar glow. You saw your empty hands, you saw the dark hallway behind you, and out of your peripheral vision you saw that Leon had not moved from his spot yet… yet you could not see him.

Leon was not present in the reflection.

You could do nothing but stare in shock and slight horror as you watched the whole scene unfold. A part of you was now realizing, though you had put two and two together in the comfort and safety of your own home, now in the presence of the man and seeing the evidence with your own two eyes, your veins ran cold, and you could not will yourself to move. Not until Leon did.

He shifted, you couldn’t even turn your head to watch. Now he was out of any point of view you had, but you felt his presence press himself against your back, staring into the same image you were. It was the most disorienting experience, feeling Leon’s body behind you, yet not seeing him peering over your shoulder. It didn’t take an expert for him to know how you were feeling in this moment, and you were also sure he knew exactly what conclusion you had just come to.

“What are you thinking?” His deep voice presented itself directly in your ear, and you felt the featherlight graze of his lips on the shell. You could feel the strands of his hanging blonde waves hit your cheek, and while your eyes stung like you wanted to cry, a blaze set itself alight within your body at his proximity.

You could only shake your head slowly at first. “You…” You fumbled over your words, unable to take your eyes off of the glass. The mysterious image of only you and not the person directly behind you will forever be burned into memory. “What are you?”

You heard him inhale slowly. You felt the heat from his face lift away from yours, but it only moved up a fraction, his mouth now pressing closely into your hairline.

“Don’t you know already? You’re a smart girl.” He was condescending with his words, most surely using what you had told him a few days ago against you now. All that talk you did about you believing the legend of the mansion’s vampire, yet here you were, standing right in front of him and refusing to say it out loud.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice was barely louder than a tremble. “You let me run my mouth like a fool in your office, and you didn’t even tell me that I was right this whole time.” Your tongue was so dry, speaking became a task. Your fingers were growing numb, but you still found it hard to move.

He snickered, and you felt the air from his breath fan your face. “And ruin the surprise? I’d much rather see the look on your face after you put it together yourself than having told you right then and there. There’s nothing I love more than when I see someone realize the reality of their convictions. Quite especially someone like you.”

You closed your eyes. It was all you could stand to do at this moment. You shot them back open, however, when you felt his broad hand at your back, pushing you forward, closer to the glass.

Walking closer to the window with the rain now coming down steadily against it, he released where he had put his hand, but did not remove himself from your closeness.

“What do you see?”

He said nothing more, waiting for you to find the composure to be able to speak properly again. As hard as you tried to look past your bleary visage to the outside world, it was nearly impossible. It was dark as ever out there, the moon unrelenting in her radiance.

After a few more seconds, “Myself.” You heard Leon hum from behind you.

“And?” He egged you on.

You shook your head. “That’s it. I can see the moon. The rain.” Your voice grew softer, body relaxing slowly, but for what cause, you weren’t able to find. You involuntarily let out a low sigh when you felt the tips of his fingers crawl up the right side of your neck, settling on your jaw. He pushed your head to the side, enough to expose the canvas of flesh in the reflection.

“Curious… Don’t you think?” His hand flitted lower, raising a trail of goosebumps along the tender skin. A finger pressed inward, right underneath the crook of your jaw, feeling the pulse of your bloodstream. “How much of yourself you can see, the first thing you always notice, for the living must look and be vain.”

Chills spread quickly throughout your body. His hand felt shockingly warm, the opposite of what you would have expected from the typical vampirical lore.

“You… you don’t know what you look like?” You whispered.

“How should I? I’m not able to unless someone lets me know, but even then, do I want to?”

You said nothing for a moment, trying to breathe through the weakness in your abdomen at his touch, which was still laid over the tender place on your throat.

“I’d like to think you still look the same as the day you stopped aging.” He hummed again at your words. Despite his remark of not knowing if he would like anyone to tell him what he looked like, he let you continue in your description. “You’re like a sculpture. Rough around the edges but so blended out, only made by hands whom the gods approved of.” His hand left your pulse, settling on the crook of your neck and shoulder, slightly squeezing. You couldn’t see, of course, but you felt that he still held his face close to yours. “You’d almost be better fitted walking the main halls as a work of art than hiding in these books.”

“That is very affirming to hear from a woman like you.” A breath of silence, then he continued. “You’ve always known, you always believed, and you know what I am. I’m quite drawn to you, I am long familiar with the feeling of someone who is covered in fear, it’s nowhere present on you.” He brought his lips down back to your ear, and you felt his left hand sneak around your waist. Your knees almost buckled. “You’re captivating… I cannot bring myself to keep things professional at all times.”

You were now, truly, at a loss for words, however he did not take your silence as resilience. The hand that was not around your waist was now pushing down the shoulder of your top, revealing the smooth skin. You shuddered again, letting your eyes close once more, and you gave in to the physical feelings over trying to rationalize anything verbally.

“I can’t stand here and deny myself from trying to get to you any longer. I have to know… I must know…” His voice was a borderline growl in your ear now, and you shocked yourself with the smallest whimper that poured over your lips. It only fueled him.

You were pushed forward by a sudden force from Leon, both hands coming up to brace yourself against the window. You were glad no one had ever turned the lights on, if any of the guards decided to walk the perimeter, surely you would have been seen.

Interestingly enough to you, despite being in the current position you were, you no longer felt any anxiety from being in the presence of your manifested form of Leon the vampire. Though he did stand there and confirm it all to you, no part of you felt like you needed to run away any longer. In fact, the contrast between the cold window and his warm body was all the convincing you needed to stay.

“I would never do this on an ordinary day, if it were anyone else I would fight these urges, but with you… I just find myself succumbing to something I wanted so suddenly.” His mouth moved against the skin of your neck, and you arched back into his body behind you. “I will not continue unless you tell me not to, but you should know I need more than just the one thing from you right now…”

The deep octaves of his voice had your thoughts swimming, and any rational mind had flown far out the window. There was nothing to argue with when there was nothing you felt the need to refuse.

“I…” A gasp from you, collecting breath you had not known you were holding. “I can’t let you do this then let you loose. This is too far beyond simplicity now.” Your breath fogged the window, and you couldn't help but notice once more how you could only see your bare shoulder in the glass, and not his large hand around the bone.

“I would never,” His lips were tucked up under your jawline, the vibrations from his voice being felt all over your body. A kiss would be less intimate. “You’re mine.”

At once, his hand on your waist tightened and he opened his mouth, his sharp fangs pierced the flesh right underneath your pulse and you gasped loudly, the pinch making you stiffen at first, then making your legs lose balance.

Leon’s hot mouth on your throat was like a painkiller compared to his teeth sunk into you, and his hand held you steady as you slowly felt the need to fall to your knees. He removed his right hand from your shoulder and wrapped it underneath your right arm, crossing over your chest to hold you steady against him, and the more you gasped and writhed at him feeding, the closer he pulled you into him.

He was groaning into your neck, his tongue swiping over the stinging wounds after he had retracted his fangs, and every time more blood pulsed out of the surface, he rocked his hips into you, and you could tell he was enjoying this in more ways than just the one. And, something you never would have believed you would get to admit, you were growing more excited with every passing second as well.

“Leon…” You whispered, unable to find strength to raise to your full voice. You clenched your eyelids shut, a burst of white filtering through the darkness. Your limbs started trembling. “Please…”

With a gasp from the man, he pulled his mouth off of your neck, the cold air stinging the once warm location. He pulled you close into his body. He was breathing heavily.

With his still low and raspy voice, he spoke again, his body twitching against yours from the rush of adrenaline. “With one taste now, I’m not sure I will ever be able to stay satiated without your blood again,” You tilted your head back, resting it on his. He held you up. “You remind me of a time when being alive meant something greater than just a state of being to me. For as long as I can…” He adjusted his head, and you felt the tip of his nose grace your jaw. It made you jump at first, afraid to feel those piercing teeth again, but he let you revel in the soft touch. “I cannot let another claim you to be theirs.”

Leon brought his left hand back upward on your body, caressing your face and directing it sideways to look at him. His eyes were burning bright with gold, and your hazy vision locked onto it like a target.

“Tell me yes,” He whispered now, his mouth grazing yours. You were barely hanging on, the blood loss creating more of a haziness than you were expecting, but you would have been able to say this answer even if you could barely speak. You had made your mind up about this with Leon a long time ago.

“Yes, Leon,” You breathily replied, and the grip on both of his hands intensified, capturing your body even closer to his if it was possible, and came down onto you in a heated kiss.

He held the side of your face to keep you upright, and it only made you melt further. His strong hands and arms were the sole reason you hadn't fallen to the floor by now, your mind was swimming and all of your nerves were aflame. You were barely paying any attention to the dull throbbing coming from the two pinpricks in your neck.

Leon, you could tell immediately, was a passionate lover. He made sure to keep you close to him at all times, afraid at any moment you could run away, from him, from this archive, from this experience. You knew you could never do that, not after such a bond had already been created by letting him feed off of you. His arms were solace in this moment, and his mouth a lifesaver, ironically.

He gently bit at your lips, and when he pulled away for you to catch your breath, you could taste blood. It was your own, you knew, but some sick inner part of you loved the thrill it sent through you. You wanted more.

His mouth was back on your skin in an instant, this time by your cheek, ear, down to your jaw and neck. You flinched when he landed on the bite mark, but he only trailed over it with a light kiss, he didn’t intend on reopening them. One of your hands came down off of the cold glass, now fogged from the heat from the two of you, to wrap around his wrist. You could barely stand, and wanted to stay in his embrace, but needed to look at him.

At your touch, he slowly let you go, and when there was enough space for movement, you turned carefully, purposefully not leaving his contact.

You shuddered at the cold window on your back, but felt heat flood your senses again when you looked into his eyes. Leon loomed over you, gaze full of lust, chest heaving with having spent energy on you, but you knew he had more to give. And you had more you could take.

You grabbed the front of his shirt by the middle and pulled him closer to you. He wasted no time in coming where you had beckoned him, hand slithering around your waist to draw you in again.

After a breath, you spoke, “I can’t… I don’t think I can stand for long,” Your eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds at a time, and you couldn’t help but to let them.

The other hand that hadn’t worked its way around your waist trailed down your side, over the curve of your hips and thighs, and took solace underneath.

“Don’t worry about that,” It took only a second at most for him to lift you, settling himself in between your legs, back still pressed against the window. Leon’s hand was gripping your thigh, and the other was still behind you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck suddenly, and it brought you face to face with him once again. “I’ve got you. I won’t drop you.”

You sighed at his words, thankful he was now holding you, as that surely would have been the breaking point, and you would have been in a puddle on the floor by now. You let your head roll back, hitting the window with a dull thud, but any pain that might have happened due to it was nowhere to be felt, with other sensations at the forefront of your nerve system.

Leon had pressed himself against you again, the hardness of his cock through his pants pressing incessantly against your heat, he reattached his lips to your throat, nipping and sucking at the soft skin, eliciting mewls from your mouth at his touch.

Your hands explored ceaselessly along his strong arms, his biceps flexing from holding you, from the excitement coursing through his own body, and you couldn’t help but arch back into him, trying to get even closer than possibly allowed. You felt him pull away again, and you wrapped one hair through his soft blonde locks and pulled him back, connecting your lips in fervor, kissing him like your life source was dependent on you staying alive.

HIs lips were soft and hot, you were addicted to the taste. The tang of your blood mixed on his tongue danced with the shared saliva between you, and with every kiss you wished you could get even closer to him. You tugged on his hair, but it was as if he couldn’t even feel it, he was too wrapped up in you.

His tongue roamed your mouth, both soon becoming slick with spit and sweat between your bodies, and you couldn’t take the heat anymore.

You pulled away, only by an inch but with enough space to whine out, “Leon, please,”

No more communication was needed, he understood your words. Maybe if you let it go on any longer, he would now just by whatever your body was telling him.

The arm he had around your waist snaked back to your side, and dipped down in between the two of you. Leon kissed your neck once, your head still relaxed against the window, unable to conjure the energy to move. You shivered with his touch along your thigh, the casual sweater dress you had on now becoming a good idea. You thanked your past self.

“If I continue will you let me,” He spoke into your neck, close enough to your ear for you to hear the low rumble of his voice. “I got a taste of you, but I know it won’t be enough.” His hand was already caressing the tender skin of your inner thigh, causing waves of chills and heat though your body and straight to your core. He was mere inches away from pulling aside your panties and running his fingers along your wetness, and you didn’t know if you could wait for that any longer.

“I need you Leon,” You whispered, and tried to turn your head to face him as best as you could. “I’ll let you forever.”

He sighed, but it was closer to a growl. He thrust his hips forward, creating a delicious friction in between the two of you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped. Your hand was still laced in his hair, and he inhaled sharply, in pleasure rather than pain, every time you pulled hard.

You whined out loud when he withdrew the hand that was so close to putting fingers inside of you, but you quickly quieted down when he utilized it instead to work apart the clasp of his belt and button of his pants. He had no intentions of wasting time, though this was a man that had all in the world.

You lifted your head with the surge of energy you found at the sound of this and attempted to look down, needing to feed your eyes before he fed your pussy. He caught you before you could make the move, smashing your lips together once again, but you didn’t mind the distraction, it was a better way to pass the time rather than have your mouth empty.

Leon wrigled himself around for a moment, attempting to pull himself out with one hand. He sighed after he accomplished this, pulling away from your mouth, but instantly was back on your neck. This time, he gave you what you wanted.

With his other hand still supporting your thigh, and showing no signs of getting tired of this action, he replaced his hand back inside your dress skirt, but skipping right over its previous position. Instead, he placed the pad of his thumb right onto the gusset of your panties, pressing with enough force to give you the friction you were desperate for. You gasped out loud, and he only continued this action to make you writhe against him.

The hand that was not tangled in his hair traveled down his chest, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles and bones, toying with the buttons of his shirt to pull them apart. When he felt your hand touch his bare chest, you could feel the muscles flex for a second.

He decided he had had enough of the teasing, though he was the one doing it to you. He roughly pulled aside your panties, and your mouth dried up at the action. Your breath hitched, and you knew what was coming.

He pulled away from your skin for a second to look into your eyes. You could feel yourself slowly slipping away, the dizziness from the blood loss slowly fading, but that strength was whisked away instantly by the arousal pooling in every crevice of your body. Leon’s eyes were half lidded, pupils blown, mouth slightly parted. You could tell just by looking at him that he barely had anything else on his mind. Just the few sips of your elixir gave him enough energy to last the whole night, most likely.

“I’m sorry if I get rough,” You felt the vibrations of his words through his chest, which you still had one hand firmly planted on. “Everything is heightened now and…” He swiped through your clothed pussy again, making you buck your hips forward. “You are irresistible, and it’s doing something to me… That I haven’t felt in a long time.”

You said nothing, or rather, didn’t have the time to, as after he concluded speaking, his fingers breached the threshold of your panties and he slipped a finger through your wet folds, making you inhale sharply and press yourself further against him. He leaned forward, pinning you fully against himself and the window, using his teeth to gently bite at your neck again.

He proceeded to stay buried in your neck for the next minute or so, his fingers going back and forth from teasing your entrance to applying pressure on your clit, making you whine and wiggle around in his hold. Every time you moaned breathily right next to his ear, he growled lowly.

The rain continued to pound on the window behind you, mirroring the feeling of your dripping heat, tightening around nothing as Leon continued to tease you, the feeling of his twitching head would occasionally press against you, and you desperately tried to rut forward to put it in, but he held you in place.

Finally, when he did decide to show mercy on your state, you whined so sharply your voice cut in and out of audibility, his thick fingers stretching you in a way that felt like bliss, no matter if any pain occurred. He thumbed your clit while slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you, feeling yourself grow slicker with every stroke, the movement becoming less and less resistant as he worked you open.

Surely he was able to feel your thighs trembling in his hand, your legs twitching with the feeling of his fingers, paired with the tongue against your pulse, the non-bitten side, you were almost at the edge without anything major happening.

He pulled away, putting himself once again in front of your face, searching you for signs that he shouldn’t continue. Tears were brimming on your lower lash line, though not from pain, but from the lack of pleasure. He saw this as it was, knowing what you were feeling in this moment, knowing you needed more, needed him.

Leon held one second of eye contact, then dipped into your mouth to kiss you chastely, and at the same time, sheathed himself inside of you. You gasped into the kiss, deepening it as you tried to thrust yourself forward to take more and more of him in. He held your hips firmly in place, not letting you take any of the control. Your fingers were tugging so harshly at his hair now, you would be surprised if you pulled away with no strands stuck between your fingers. He welcomed the sting of it though, pushing himself forward into you until he completely bottomed out, the feeling of his twitching cock in your walls made your whole body shiver, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, begging for some action to relieve your aching.

Your breath was stuck in your throat at this. The fullness you were experiencing made it difficult to inhale anything, and with Leon not only filling your insides, but still keeping his mouth connected to your neck, everything was making your head spin.

“Leon…” You breathed out, and you received a grunt in return. He pistoned his hips forward again, making you whine sharply, before pulling himself out and repeating the action. You quickly became loud.

There was nothing rough about the action. He was slow and thoughtful with every stroke, hands gripping your ass where he held you up, pushing bruises into the skin where his fingers made contact. He groaned with every other thrust, enjoying the feeling of you around him as you were of him inside of you.

You could barely make any more noise at this point, just heavy breathing was coming from the both of you, a whine occasionally making its way out from your throat, but too many sensations were happening at once, it was all so overstimulating.

Your hands were roaming, trying to find any surface on him possible to steady yourself. You were clawing at him desperately, feeling a little sorry for the marks you were creating along his chest, but every line of pain was being pushed into his performance, and he was not relenting on his power.

“Fuck,” Leon moaned into your ear, and he took one second to collect himself before resuming his pace. You could feel how wet the both of you had become, as well as hear it. “You feel amazing…” Your head rolled back once more and thudded against the rain stricken window, but it was not loud enough to drown out the incessant squelching happening. Leon began to pick his pace up slightly, most likely your sign that he was getting close.

He thrust hard and stayed seated inside of you, making your legs tense up, and pleasure shoot throughout your entire body. Your hand had finally let go of his hair at this, squeezing with as much strength as you could muster up in your body on his thick shoulder, where you could feel every muscle as he struggled to hold you up and keep himself together.

“You’re too much for me,” He gasped into your ear, “I can’t hold on much longer,”

You lifted your head off of the window and leaned down, he met you halfway and sealed his words with a deep kiss. Moving away from other spots on his body, your hands traveled back up and cupped both sides of his face, kissing him with passion as he tried to split focus between kissing you and fucking you.

You could feel his breath on your face as he began stuttering, and his sounds made your stomach tighten, and you clenched your walls around him, making it even harder for him to continue.

He pulled away by a mere centimeter, saliva stuck between you two in a string, the look in his eyes soft yet strong, he admired you in a way that made you forget he had seen a thousand other beautiful things in his lifetime. It made you feel like you topped the list. Sweat was beading on his forehead, it was catching the moonlight behind you, making his skin shine like silver. His eyes were blue again.

He furrowed his brow together, his hips losing its steady rhythm. “I–I can’t,” He almost whimpered, and you took pity on his state. It was arousing to see this man fall apart under you.

You tried your best to speak, voice cutting in between heavy breaths. “So don’t.” These words elicited a sob-like sound from the man in front of you. His mouth dropped open, eyelids scrunching together, letting the last of himself loose that he had been holding together barely at all.

With broken gasps and groans, you felt Leon push himself for just a moment more, the pleasure on his face driving you right to your orgasm, and the knot inside of you came loose. Solace was found on his chest again, and your nails dug into him as you rode it out, knowing the feeling was going to push Leon over as well.

You felt it before you saw it on his face. You felt the throb of his thick cock inside of you, his hips unable to do anything steadily at this point, and he let himself go inside of you.

He was looking down between the two of you, though you were sure his eyes were closed as you were still pressed together. He groaned once, twice, and when he eventually looked up, in between his panting lips and huffs for air, you saw his shining fangs that had come out to play again.

You almost invited him to bite you again. Surely it would have allowed him to continue.

You blinked and they were gone. His facial features softened as he looked at you, your skin was on fire from the warm air settling in around you two, and your lungs wouldn’t fill efficiently enough.

He gulped, trying to wet his mouth. You were experiencing the same. “Are you alright to stand?”

You removed your hands from his chest and placed them on one of the panes of the window. “I think I will be, maybe… eventually.”

He huffed a laugh. He gently maneuvered his hands to let your feet plant back onto the ground. After being held up for so long, your knees felt like jelly. You stumbled.

He still loomed over you after you had regained your balance. He discreetly put himself away while you were busy controlling the rush of blood back to your head, and now he was keeping a watchful eye, scared, like you were fragile.

“I’m just unsteady. I won’t break.” You remarked. You pulled the hem of your dress down.

Leon smiled. It warmed you. “Of course I know that. I just…” He looked away for a moment, as if ashamed. “I drank a lot more than I should have. And then proceeded to heighten your heart rate, which was not my best course of action, but at times, I tend to get ahead of myself.” You stared at him as he talked. You felt endeared by his worries.

“I feel fine, right now. But I was hazy. But…” You bit your lip, wondering if you should continue your train of thought. Why not, you concluded, the most intimate act was already water under the bridge. “I liked how it felt.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a slight difference to the tone of the moment, but you noticed his hair, which he hadn’t yet patted down from your fingers running wild in them. It made him look rugged, playful. Human.

“I…” Leon said nothing else for a few more seconds. You observed each other. Reveling in the events that just transpired, and exactly what this means moving forward. There was no more strictly professional relationship. You could feign it to the public, but you will always want him. He will always crave you.

He continued. “I meant what I said. I had a little too much just for a first taste, and it heightened every nerve ending in my body, you allowed me to continue, and I fear… Well, now I need to see where this takes our relations. I would like…” Another pause for humility. “I would like you to stay. Stay here, not for the building, but with me.”

You were the one to gulp this time. Even just his words had a sweeping effect like a wave, and you were desperately trying to breathe through the undertow.

You walked forward, grabbing his shirt by the half undone buttons and pulled him into a kiss. You let the passion take over in place for the lust a few minutes prior, and you could feel the difference all over your body. You knew your answer.

You pulled away, both of you slightly dazed. You whispered into his lips, “That was already my plan.”

The moonlight hugged you both goodnight.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #fanfiction #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy smut #vampires #vampire fiction #vampire smut

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weaselandfriends · 9 days ago

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I was wondering, why specifically classic literature? I think I remember you mentioning that the "50 pages of of classics a day" thing was intended as a training method for improving your prose, do you believe there's a major difference between the quality of prose in classic fiction compared to more modern well-regarded fiction? Do you consider your personal style to be notably 'classic' or older-fashioned in any way? Finally would you recommend your strategy to other aspiring writers? In your opinion was it a smart choice to focus on the classics as you did?

For a very long time, until about 2017, I had an innate, unquestioned belief that people generally liked good things. Thus, if something was good, it would be become popular. And what is good? Why, classic literature is good! It is consensus, agreed-upon good, tested by time. To me, reading classic literature was just an obvious decision, not even really a decision at all. If wanted to be popular, I needed to be good. If I wanted to be good, I needed to be like other good things.

(Modern Cannibals is what divested me of these notions. I truly believed Modern Cannibals would be a bigger hit than Fargo, in fact a mainstream hit, something that would win the Pulitzer. Its dramatic lack of readers on release was a major blow to my psyche.)

In regards to prose, you can actually find pretty good prose stylists among the MFA literary fiction crowd even today. The main issue is that they have no artistic ambition and nothing to write about but themselves. In genre fic no, the prose is pretty bad. Brandon Sanderson, the titan of fantasy literature right now, intentionally attempts to make his prose as bland as possible, and that's probably the best you're going to get from anything anyone is reading. Someone told me to read The Name of the Wind, which they claimed had the best prose in any fantasy novel, but it was actually one of the worst books I've ever read. The most recent novel published that I would consider "great" is 2666 by Roberto Bolano, which came out in 2004.

I wouldn't consider my style old fashioned. It's probably more similar to the aforementioned MFA litfic crowd than, say, Gustave Flaubert. I am a product of my time, and for as much as I may be influenced by classic literature, I'm also influenced by the latest trashiest anime. (Oshi no Ko kind of a banger, no?)

I would certainly recommend reading classic literature to all aspiring young writers. It's essential to learn where the medium has been and what has been done with it, across eras and cultures. Prose is a tool that can itself have meaning, it is not simply a vehicle by which you impart the meaning inherent in plot and character. And if you don't learn your past, you just become rootless.

#bavitz #writing #addadashofpepper #classic literature

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twistedtummies2 · 1 month ago

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Top 6 Edgar Allan "Poe-ms"

In my previous list for Halloween-time, I discussed my favorite short stories by the great Edgar Allan Poe: my all-time favorite author. Poe’s work with short stories was vast and varied, covering all sorts of genres; he wrote plenty of horror tales, of course, but also works of humor and simple mystery. But of course, these were not the extent of his output: Poe was also a gifted “Poe-t.” And as we all know, “Poe’s Poems Pwn Posers.” (Bravo if you got that reference.) But seriously, Edgar Allan “Poe-try” (I’m sorry, these are much too easy) was rarer than his narrative output, but no less intriguing. His poems, like his stories, ranged in length, style, and tone, from dark and eerie, to multiple kinds of romance, both tragic and surprisingly heartfelt. Some of them even mingled elements of tone together, making for particularly unique pieces in the annals of literature. I figured that it was best to give his poems a separate, albeit shorter, spotlight from the short stories he wrote. So, without further ado, here are my Top 6 Edgar Allan “Poe-ms.”

Also, I promise that’s the last Poe and poetry pun I make. Intentionally. XD

6. The Haunted Palace.

This is one of two poems on the list that was initially written on its own terms, but then later - interestingly - was incorporated into one of his short stories. “The Haunted Palace” appears in the short story “Fall of the House of Usher,” where it serves an allegorical purpose, as the poem is a (none-too-subtle) analogy to the exact happenings in the story up to that point. Taking it out of context from the story, however, it’s still a very powerful and, as its title indicates, haunting piece of poetry. The poem tells the story of a beautiful palace, fairy-tale like, which was once a radiant and happy place…then goes on to describe the decline of this once gilded hall, as it falls to ruin, haunted by the ghosts of its fabled past - perhaps literally, perhaps metaphorically, perhaps even both. Many of Poe’s pieces reflected upon time, mortality, and the idea of something once beautiful being corrupted by both; a sort of constant theme of “innocence lost” permeates, honestly, almost every single poem on this very list. It seemed to be an idea that haunted Poe himself: perhaps in his own mind’s palace, he forever felt himself haunted by the idea that time marches on, and all good things must come to an end.

5. The Bells.

“The Bells” is one of Poe’s more…ambiguous poems. It’s a little harder to tell what it means, if it even means anything specific. Told over the course of four separate verses, this poem describes different kinds of bells, and the emotions they seem to instill. It starts off cheerily enough with silver bells, describing imagery and emotions that frankly sound like something of a Christmas song. It then moves on to wedding bells, which are equally happy, but somewhat more solemn in nature. Then things take a very sharp and horrific turn, as the poem describes next brazen alarm bells, which fill one’s soul with terror and dread…and finally, as you may perhaps expect, “moaning and groaning” funeral bells, signifying the end of a life and all that comes with that idea. It’s not clear if this progression is meant, like the Haunted Palace, to represent the passage of time, or if it’s simply a poem that uses the bells as an analogy for all kinds of different statuses in life: how the same kind of sound and item can mean so many different things, both good and bad, to so many people. This is one of several poems on this list written very, VERY late in Poe’s life, and - like two others still to come - it was not actually published till after his death. Perhaps it was Poe’s way of reflecting on the different turns his life had taken over the years…and the fear he had for his soon-to-be-short-lived future.

4. The Conqueror Worm.

Just like “The Haunted Palace,” this poem was first published separately as its own individual piece, but was later incorporated into one of Poe’s stories. Namely, it was made into part of the tale “Ligeia;” in that story, the titular character writes the poem as a way of expressing her own horror at her terminal state, as she is dying slowly from tuberculosis - a disease which ravaged Poe’s life at practically every turn. The poem is probably one of the most unsettling of the writer’s entire life (and given all the others on this list, that’s saying a lot). It tells the story of an audience of angels, watching a pantomime show, in which a collection of clowns fruitlessly try to capture a wayward phantom. The phantom escapes, and without warning, a hideous beast - a blood red creature described as “the Conqueror Worm” - rises up from nowhere, and devours the performers. Once all of them have been eaten, the pantomime comes to a close, while the angels weep. The titular Conqueror Worm is meant to be an allegory for tuberculosis in Ligeia’s story, but in its own universe, the Worm is actually meant to represent death, in general. The poem is one of the most harrowing and disturbingly frenzied in Poe’s collection, as it acts as a parable for life itself: a mad race that has seemingly no purpose, and ends in something unspeakably nasty. It’s a cynical and deeply troubling piece of work, but that’s what makes it so intriguing, like so many other dark poems by the author. While the Worm in the poem itself is purely an allegorical creation, and it’s likely that Poe’s mental image was closer to a “Wyrm” of mythology or fantasy, the kinds of images illustrators since have come up with for the idea of a huge red worm that devours everything in its path has led to some really nasty and yet creative stuff. Perhaps Edgar Allan Poe invented “Tremors” alongside the modern detective story; who’duh thunk it? :P

3. Eldorado.

This relatively short and simple poem was one of the last works of Poe’s life. Like many of his poems and stories in his later years, it was a reflection of the desolate situation he found himself in, emotionally. The poem tells of a brave knight, who goes on a gallant quest to find the mystic, mythical city of gold, Eldorado. (Which should really be spelled “El Dorado,” but I’m going to call it “Eldorado” for the sake of literary accuracy here.) After years of searching, however, the knight grows old and weak seeking this magical fantasyland. Finally, he encounters a “Phantom Shadow” - implied to be Death itself - who offers him directions, indicating Eldorado to be Paradise. While only a few stanzas long, the sentiment of this dark little fairy-tale is powerful and strangely ambiguous: unlike others here, there is a sort of warmth to it, despite the sorrow imbued in its syllables. You can read into it as a sort of heartwarmingly bittersweet piece, or as a condemnation on the futility of life’s struggles. You can see Eldorado as something you can only imagine in your dreams, or only find peacefully in the afterlife, or even as something you will never actually locate. Short and not exactly sweet, but also not entirely bitter…however you read into it, “Eldorado” remains a poignant reminder that some fantasies just cannot be reality…at least, not in this lifetime.

2. Annabel Lee.

“Annabel Lee” might be the single saddest of all of Poe’s poetry pieces, largely because of its context. Much like “Eldorado” and “The Bells”, it was among the very last poems Poe wrote in his lifetime. In fact, like the latter, it was not even published till after his death, and was written only months before his (rather mysterious) passing. The poem tells the story of a distraught narrator, who describes how his beloved bride - Annabel Lee, whom he has loved since childhood - was so beautiful, and their love for each other so pure, that even the angels felt envious. So envious, in fact, that they killed her. Now, the Narrator makes frequent visits to her grave, and sleeps there in her tomb, near a kingdom by the sea. The poem seems to be a metaphor for the emotions and turmoils Poe went through after the death of his own wife, Virginia: many passages seem similar to the biographical information about the couple, and Poe’s reactions to her tragic departure. However, others have been offered as possible inspirations for the fictional lady described in the poem. Whoever the true Annabel Lee was, the poem’s tragic content is only made more heartbreaking when you realize this hymn of long-lost love was the last thing Poe had to give to the world, before he, himself, was felled under baffling circumstances. The verses were the inspiration for the novel “Lolita,” and there is even an English standard song called “Kingdom By the Sea,” which is a musical adaptation of the poem, along with many other song-styled renditions. As one of Poe’s last great creations, this poem has cemented his legacy perhaps above all other works he ever made before.

1. The Raven.

Almost without a doubt Poe’s most lauded piece of work, “The Raven” is his undisputed masterpiece in the world of poetry. The poem focuses on the plight of a once again unnamed narrator, who is mourning the recent loss of his wife, Lenore. He is visited one night by a mysterious Raven, which repeatedly croaks the word “Nevermore” like a parrot. As the poem goes on, the Narrator comes to believe the Raven is some supernatural being, as its croaking seems to answer every question and demand he makes. It is unclear exactly what happens to the Narrator at the end of the story, but he marks with fear that the Raven is still sitting in his room, watching over him. “And [his] soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, shall be lifted…nevermore.” While not directly autobiographical, it is probably not a coincidence that Poe wrote this poem at the exact same time his aforementeioned wife, Virginia, was effectively on her deathbed. One can easily see this as Poe already anticipating his own grief, the fears and sorrows of the storyteller matching his own harrowing circumstances in an exaggerated and Gothic manner. However you interpret things in this verse-told tale, it is, without a doubt, one of the most famous and celebrated pieces of poetry in the entire world. It is also my personal favorite poem of all time. Not just mine, either! Many famous people, such as Stan Lee, have named this as their favorite poem, and even more have done readings of it, from Christopher Lee to James Earl Jones to Vincent Price and more. There’s even a professional American football team inspired by the poem. No joke! Look it up! While the poem did not make Poe much money in his lifetime, it has, beyond all his other works, become the piece he is remembered for best.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

To One in Paradise.

The City in the Sea.

A Dream Within a Dream.

#list #countdown #best #favorites #top 6 #poetry #literature #edgar allan poe #horror #romance #tragedy #mystery #halloween

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popcultureoverdosed · 2 months ago

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Blood Blockade Battlefront is New York at its Finest

NYC often gets a bad rep. Most people either see it as a smelly hellhole filled with crime and crappy attitudes or a breeding ground for hipsters and vapid socialites. People only see what they want to see without looking at the whole picture. This makes Leonardo's all-seeing eyes of God all the more important. Instead of lumping NYC into a box, he sees it for what it truly is; a chaotic blend of volatile elements.

The storytelling of Blood Blockade Battlefront is pure chaos from beginning to end. Leonardo is thrown into a world of highly deadly scenarios with very little breathing room in between. Each episode focuses on a moment in the character's life. One episode will focus on Leonardo befriending an amnesiac monster who loves burgers and another will feature a brigade of Charlie's angels-esque spies who happen to be invisible werewolves. It's the type of show that always keeps you on your toes because you never know what to expect. Some have criticized the show for its lack of an overarching plot and treat it as if that's inherently bad. Blood Bloockade isn't the type of show that needs a complex narrative. Its biggest appeal is simply seeing its eccentric cast interact with each other. Its episodic nature made watching it a breeze since viewers are never overwhelmed with too much information.

Worldbuilding is done at a casual pace where background lore is only given when it's relevant to what's currently happening. Since most characters are already well familiar with the lore, they usually cut the small talk and get straight to the action. In this way, the narrative mirrors New Yorker's aversion to beating around the bush. Show don't tell at its finest. We need more shows that just get to the point. Rie Matsumoto, director of season 1, feels a bit different about the story than I do, though. She inserted two original characters, Black and White, a pair of siblings who share a character arc that Intersects with Leo's. Under normal circumstances, this would have been an incredibly bad move. Filler in anime tends to feel pointless and just detracts from the story. Luckily, Rie Matsumoto made sure that the filler didn't feel like filler. It was fun watching the mystery surrounding the sibling duo unravel with each episode. It eventually culminated in a finale that was nearly an hour long. Matsumoto took a huge risk with her bold decision, but she definitely stuck the landing.

The production values of the show are also top-notch. Pretty much every episode is a reminder of why studio Bones is such a beloved company. They seriously put their key animators to work in both seasons. The fluidity of the fight scenes always left me impressed. Character designer Toshihiro Kawamoto did a great job at bringing Yasuhiro Nightow's art to animation with his iconic style. I love how even when Toshihiro is adapting someone else's character design, his style still shines through.

Special mention needs to be given to composer Taisei Iwasaki because he really killed it with this soundtrack. It's an eclectic blend of jazz, RNB, hip-hop, rock and more genres that perfectly captures the vibe of a busy New York City. Each track is a different flavor of the city and made me feel at home. The soundtrack truly embodies the chaotic feel of the show and captures its occasional serene moments perfectly.The true musical highlights are the openings and endings. BBB is one of those shows where you feel compelled to watch the full episode because the opening and ending are too good to skip. They're all incredibly upbeat songs that make you wanna stop everything and dance. Sugar song and bitter step is one of my favorite anime endings because of it's colorful animation and cheerful aura.

Blood Blockade Battlefront is the type of show that can really resonate with native New Yorkers. We see all the highs and lows of the city almost every day and you have to be just a little bit crazy to appreciate NYC for what it is.

#blood blockade battlefront #kekkai sensen #anime #review #anime review #blog #nyc #new york #manhattan #analysis #black blogger #black writblr #studio bones #yasuhiro nightow

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kittyamore0 · 2 years ago

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So here's the deal.. Maybe reader is daughter of Sidney Prescott, by ivf,as after scream 3 she wanted to have someone to love, so she did and then 10 years later skip to scream 4,it was a little 9 year old reader who shot Jill because she was about to kill her mother, in the hospital, she sees a birth certificate and sees her mother's name on the mother column and on father's column she sees.. Billy Loomis, she confronts her mother about it, and Sidney tells her that she got to know about the identity of the other person too late (don't ask why he would do this, maybe as a prank or something..) then in scream 5 she came back to woodsboro when her uncle dewy died, and when she hears Sam is Billy's daughter, she tells her she is her half sister, then in scream 6, reader starts to like the nerd ethan laundry alot, and when she is drunk she tells him who she is, as no one besides Sam, Sidney and gale knew who her father was, which ethan says during the confrontation scene, he did like reader and tries to Ave her from Quinn, as Quinn wanted to kill reader because she was Sam's sister and she was also there when her brother died. At the end, reader drops the TV on ethan,... I know its too detailed but please?

A/N: Nothing too detailed for me!! A/N: This does sound like a series though tbh

𝑷𝑨𝑷𝑬𝑹

꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱꒰⸝⸝ꨄ︎⸝⸝꒱

[𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐥]

╰┈➤ FANDOM/GENRE: Horror, dark romance, Ghostface, scream 5, 6, and 4

╰┈➤ RATING: SFW

╰┈➤WRITING STYLE: Series

╰┈➤ TAGS: @kittiescrownedsoul, @zspen, @auranightangle

╰┈➤ REMINDER: Do NOT transfer, translate, modify, copy or steal my ideas!

╰┈➤ CW: Murder, attempted murder, shooting, guns, stabbing, blood/bleeding, attacking, stalking, deaths,

"So, Sidney, I heard you had a daughter?" Jill smiled at Sidney. "Uh, yea..." Sidney hesitated to answer.

"Could...could i see her?" Jill tilted her head. "I just want to see my cousin's daughter...since...yk, i might die to Ghostface," Sidney slowly nodded. "Yea, uhm, thats fine...shes just with her aunt Gale right now so..." Jill gritted her teeth and put on a fake smile. "Thats okay! Im...Im gonna head upstairs and go get ready to see Kirby." Sidney smiled at her.

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"Okay. Last one, alright? You are killing me..." Gale chuckled. "Okay, okay...is uncle Dewey a bad person?" Gale furrowed her eyebrows. "No! Where'd you hear that?" You simply shrugged. "Ma said that you cant always trust the love interest..." Gale sighed and shook her head. "Okay, sweetie, that is different. Dewey is a good sheriff and helps your mother through a lot of shit. Hes one of the good guys. Depends on the person."

You mouthed a 'ohhh...' before turning to your stuffed bunny. "Why does ma and uncle Dewey call me bunny?" Gales expression darkened. "I thought that was the last one?" You playfully smiled. "Just one more!" Her lips twitched into a playful grin.

"So, you had an aunt. Her name is Tatum, and...thats her bunny. She gave it to Dewey to give to you, as a gift...and they call you bunny because it reminds them of her..." Gale spoke softly. "Where is she now?" Gale grimaced. "On a...a...very long vacation!" You nodded again.

Gales phone buzzed in her pocket. She swiftly picked it up. "Hello? Oh, hey, Sidney. What's up? You want me to pick up her what? Oh, alright. Bye." You curiously watched Gale tuck her phone back into her back pocket.

"Pick up my what?" Gale put an index finger to her mouth. "Adult matters, but why did she have me pick it up now? Its dark out...whatever."

You kept your eyes on the window, watching the street lights flash and shine. You pondered what your aunt Tatum looked like, as you played with the white chubby bunny.

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"We're here," Gale unbuckled your seat belt and exited the car. She opened the car door for you and held out her hand. You gladly took it and hopped out of the car.

You stuck to Gale's leg, since there were quite a lot of people. Reporters, even. "Hi. Im Gale Riley. Im here to pick up [Name's] Prescott birth certificate." The front desk woman eyes Gale before typing on her computer.

She bends down and opens the drawer next to her, pulling out a firm piece of paper, wrapped in plastic. "Thank you," Gale grabbed your hand and began walking to the front doors, until her phone buzzed again. "Dewey, hun, hi. Shes right here with me, why? Sidneys in the hospital? What?! Ghostface..." she scoffed. "Of course...Im already in the hospital so im going to see her. No buts, bye!"

Gale sighed and crouched down. "[Name], babe, stay here with the front desk woman, okay?" You nodded as she took you to the front desk lady, explaining to her why Gale had to leave. The woman understood and let Gale exit as wanted, but the paper Gale had gotten had fallen out of her purse.

You rushed to pick it up and tried to follow Gale. "Wait, aunty Gale!" The paper had slid out of the plastic wrap. You took a look at it and saw three blood relatives. Sam Carpenter...? Billy Loomis..."Mommys boyfriend..." You gasped. There was another name, one you didnt recognize. You had to talk to your mother about this, and Gale was your ticket to her location.

You began sprinting, watching Gale with your every move. You saw the button she pressed on the elevator, so you went to a different one, jumping to press the button.

You ran out the elevator as fast as you can when you heard a 'ding,' seeing Gale turn into a certain room. You heard grunts and things being thrown around.

Gale was being held at gunpoint by a woman you hadn't recognized. "Can i say one last thing?" She scoffed. "What, please?" Gale smirked. "Clear," her eyebrows furrowed. "Clear?"

"Clear!" Sidney comes up behind Jill and electrocutes her in the head with two defibrillator pads using 360 joules of energy. She falls backwards while Sidney crouches down to Gale.

You silently watch, making notes of Jills movement. She was still alive. You saw a gun on the floor, on display. You quickly ran to the gun, startling Jill. "What?! "

You grabbed the gun and fired in Jills direction, shooting her in the throat, shoulder and chest.

"[Name?!]" Sidney scurried to your side, pulling you into a tight embrace. "What are you doing here?!" She softly scolded you. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't my real mother?"

She gaped at your words, so did Gale. "What...?" You softly frowned. "I have the paper..." Sidney whipped her head in Gales direction, as Gale frantically searched through her bag. "Shit..." Gale chuckled nervously.

"I was trying to find out who your father was...I now know, and so do you because of a certain someone..." Sidney gritted her teeth.

"I...I think I have a sister..." Sidney tilted her head. "You do?" You nodded. "I do! Can we find her?"

"Um, Im not so...sure," You sniffled and gave her puppy dog eyes. "Please, promise me we'll find her!" Sidney hesitated before sighing.

"Alright, we'll find her.."

#sam carpenter #billy loomis #sidney prescott #gale weathers #dewey x gale #dewey riley #tatum riley #scream movies #scream #ghostface scream #ghostface #jill roberts #child reader #scream 4

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larzipan · 29 days ago

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tiny teams fest games review

so this happened this august but I never got around to posting my reviews for the games I tried out / played. there's a steam next fest happening right this moment so I figured I'd get this draft out of the way before I create another one to ignore for the following couple of months.

Chamberbound - reminiscent of both Antichamber and Portal where you command a sphere in first person. This game unfortunately gave me such bad motion sickness I couldn't play it at all. If you like the aforementioned games and don't have issues with motion sickness I definitely recommend you try it! Coming soon.

Crypt Custodian - a very cute metroidvania, the demo of which left me wanting for more. Its various aspects of which were reminiscent of several games from different genres, yet it never felt stale or repetitive -- quite the opposite! Released 27.08.2024.

The Diary - very interesting concept for a puzzle game. I really liked it and I'd say the demo felt way longer than 30 minutes, in a good way! Unfortunately the latter half of the demo was untranslated, which kind of decreased my overall enjoyment of it. Releases in Q4 2024.

Everafter Falls - a quirky farming sim that seems to have much more to offer than you might first think it does. While I don't think I can get over some of the character design choices in this game, the rest of the graphics as well as writing was really fun! Released 20.06.2024.

Foolish Mortals - not linking this. Honestly, this would have been a great modern iteration of a classic point and click puzzle game, if the creator wasn't a white guy from the UK appropriating aspects for Black culture and trauma in the US Deep South and the Caribbean. Fuck off.

The Guardian of Nature - a point and click puzzle adventure game with a refreshingly distinct art style. While I definitely struggled a bit because some puzzle solutions did not seem entirely intuitive, it was still a rather relaxing experience. Release date to be announced.

Holstin - I chose this game simply because of how cool and different it looked and it lived up to every bit of my expectations if not more! The FPS was definitely hard for me but the puzzling part of the game was chef's kiss amazing. This game is kind of fucked up in all the best ways. Release date to be announced.

Kaiserpunk - couldn't play this because while I can easily play Manor Lords on ultra with my PC, this game made my fans sound like they were about to take off. Releases on 27.02.2025.

The Last Plague: Blight - a survival game I've kind of looked for a very long time where you play as a possibly modern man starting from the basics. The one negative I have about this was that before release at the least, you could only play as a dude. Though I am still excited to try out the full game (in co-op as well). Released 03.10.24.

LEILA - a narrative puzzle game with a large variety of puzzles, some of which may seem familiar but not stale at all. I have been looking forward to this game for a long time -- ever since I saw GlitchKraft play the demo a while ago -- and I'm so happy I could try it out myself as well. Just such a good game. Releases Q4 2024.

Linkito - a puzzle game reminiscent of the ye old TIM games, albeit with far fewer balloons from what I've seen. It's an amazing puzzler and I have been a fan for quite some while now. While it definitely makes you think really hard at times, the puzzles have so far not proven themselves impossible to solve. Released on 23.07.2024.

Medieval Dynasty - if not true to the era, then at least a very well and believably stylised colony sim. I was a bit surprised to see this game on the list and to get it but it's definitely a time-sinker, probably especially if you've got friends to co-op it with. Released on 23.09.2021.

Mirthwood - a hand-drawn medieval adventure farming sim. The game features historically correct carrots! Unfortunately, the demo did come with a lot of linguistic errors and some of the menus and actions were rather confusing and unintuitive. That aside, I still really enjoyed it and want to play more. Release date 06.11.24.

Mythwrecked: Ambrosia Island - a lovely 3D adventure game with a very varied and inclusive cast of characters. It seems to be a mix of many genres, starting from hidden object to perhaps even dating sim? I did get stuck in the demo but I'm pretty sure it was fully my own fault. Very excited to try again with the full game! Releases in 2024.

PEPPERED - an existential platformer with what seems like a ridiculous replay value. I can't quite describe the full gist of the game, but it was very good and challenging. This is something I'd recommend to anyone who has played a lot of platformers and is looking for something new. Coming soon.

Pilo (and the Holobook) - a cute fun game about scanning things, collecting stickers and learning about the game's world. I found the sticker book opening and closing after every scan extremely tedious to the point that I don't think I actually finished the demo. Releases in 2024.

Spilled! - a very cute and relaxing game about cleaning polluted waters. Unfortunately I couldn't play it for too long because it triggered my motion sickness big time. Coming soon.

StormEdge - a fun little roguelite. It seems to have released to mixed reviews, but I found it quite enjoyable. You don't need to think or strategise much, just fight and don't get hit. Released on 13.09.2021.

Tinkerlands - an open world survival game reminiscent of The Survivalists, Core Keeper and other such games in the genre. It also wishfully reminded me of Trickster Online in a way, which is why it reeled me in. While it might not really fulfil my yearning for TO, it is fun and cute nevertheless. Coming soon.

Urban Jungle - a cosy little indie game, which, to my surprise, is more complex than just putting plants in a room. It's not quite for me, but I just know that this will be a cosy game hit! Coming soon.

#TinyTeamsFest #Yogscast #TinyTeams #gaming #video game #game review

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spaceobloquy · 1 year ago

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All the Armored Core VI Endings Are Bad

There's been some debate online as to which ending to the game is good and which is bad, and why, and I'm here to tell you that they're all bad in different but more or less equally horrible ways and you're wasting your time defending one over the other. Before we start in on that, let's lay some groundwork. I'd like to credit this video by MadLuigi with helping hone my thoughts, although a lot of the below are my own observations.

Dune & Blade Runner

The first thing you need to know is that Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon (henceforth AC6) is extremely heavily based on the novel Dune and the movie Blade Runner.

The Dune connection is pretty obvious: Coral was originally named Mélange in the leaked information on the game, using the more technical name for the Spice which facilitates future-sight and thus enables FTL travel in the Dune books (among other things). That should tell you all you need to know, but it doesn't stop there. Of course, Rubicon 3 being the only known planet with Coral is just like how Arrakis in Dune is the only source of the Spice Mélange. The currency of all past Armored Core entries were the generically named credits, but in AC6, it's COAM. The big feudal megacorp of Dune, standing in as the space version of the Dutch East India Company, is CHOAM, Combine Honnete Ober Advancer Mercantiles. While the AC6 currency might either be an acronym or a contraction and its full meaning is unknown, this is more than a coincidence. The Rubicon Liberation Front styling themselves as "Coral Warriors", their use of Coral as a quasi-religious substance and object of worship, and their zealous dogmatism is an obvious reference to Dune's Fremen, and particularly the Fedaykin, or death commandos. Dosers and civilians are kind of like how the people of Arrakis are inadvertently exposed to Spice simply through ambient sources with the Dosers taking Coral recreationally like how Spice is used in coffee, and mealworms raised on Coral being the source of most food on Rubicon 3. All this will be very important to know for the Liberator of Rubicon ending.

The references to Blade Runner are more subtle. While human augmentation (Human PLUS) has a long history in the Armored Core franchise (going back to the first game) and in the cyberpunk genre as a whole (to which AC6 absolutely belongs), one of the progenitors of that genre is Blade Runner (1982), released in the same year as the manga Akira, and predating the genre's "literary" birth with Neuromancer in 1984. Blade Runner has an immense influence on AC6's visual and auditory style, as well as its treatment of augmented humans in a way similar to the Replicants (that is to say, as basically slaves). If you want to see this for yourself, all you have to do is compare AC6's Reveal Trailer with the opening of Blade Runner. You should be able to easily hear how heavily Kota Hoshino and company were influenced by Vangelis's score, as well as see how the visual framing was influenced.

These are not the only references AC6 has or makes, but they form the bedrock of understanding its genre and heritage as a thoroughly dystopian cyberpunk work.

Coral

AC6 revolves around Coral, and you need to understand that Coral is also a number of allusions wrapped up into one. While at heart an alien substance of biological origin (but not necessarily a lifeform unto itself) which mimics Dune's Spice Melange, it also evokes many other things:

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury - Permet: Permet is a mineral which facilitates remote data connections and is used to enhance various technological products, as well as augmenting humans. In sufficient quantity, if activated correctly, it can also modify local spacetime conditions, and can even host conscious minds. Sound familiar? This is likely a case of simultaneous parallel evolution rather than direct reference, as G-Witch came out so near the end of the game's development, but the similarities with Coral are hard to ignore. I'm not the first to draw this connection.

The Andromeda Strain - Andromeda: The titular Andromeda is a biological organism from Earth's upper atmosphere which directly converts energy to matter and which is capable of rapid mutation; it goes from crystalizing blood upon initial landfall on the planet to eventually consuming rubber and plastic near the book's conclusion. Andromeda's ability to self-replicate using almost any source of energy and to mutate to fit its environment is obviously reflected in Coral being able to grow best in space and experiencing Mutation Waves.

Mythology - Red Mercury: A purely fictional substance, red mercury is supposedly involved in nuclear weapons manufacture or capable of being used as an extremely potent chemical explosive rivaling nuclear weapons in destructive ability depending on who one asks. Coral's combustibility and color is a fairly obvious allusion to this or something like it.

Real Life - Nuclear Weapons: It should probably come as no surprise to you that due to the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and more recently the nuclear meltdown in Fukushima, that Japan has long had a fascination with and revulsion toward nuclear weapons. Coral is an explicit reference to nuclear weapons technology, taking the place of a sci-fi equivalent to them: a nuke greater than nukes. You can tell because the visual language of the Fires of Ibis directly references nuclear test footage:

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The destruction of the Grid system is visually a direct allusion to test examples of nuclear destruction.

Rubiconians

When I refer here to Rubiconians, I refer explicitly to Coral-based intelligence like Ayre, not the human population of Rubicon 3. This is an important distinction. It's also important to understand that intelligences like Ayre are a relatively recent phenomenon. We know this because the game tells us so:

The Mutation Wave detected at Watchpoint Delta, which 621 liberates by destroying the regulator, is Ayre, who subsequently makes Contact with 621. We know this because ALLMIND will also refer to Ayre as a "C-pulse wave mutation—Ayre" in the Alea Iacta Est ending mission. In other words, Ayre is relatively new. Coral has not traditionally manifested sapient personalities on Rubicon 3, certainly not prior to the arrival of humanity. Ayre is a direct reaction to humanity's actions. Given Ayre is a Wave Mutation, although she (and ALLMIND) refer to other Coral as her siblings, it is not at all clear that they are self-aware in the same sense as she is. She seems to be unique among Coral, which is why she and 621 are the triggers for Coral Release in ALLMIND's ending—only they have properly made Contact.

This should immediately make you suspicious for two reasons.

Firstly, humans are the way they are because of a long evolutionary process which begat physical, corporeal bodies, eventually resulting in anatomically modern humans that think and express in the ways we are familiar with. Coral does not have any of these constraints, and therefore should not naturally produce anything resembling a human mind, and yet Ayre seems remarkably human without having any of the physical neurological structure or evolutionary history to support that human mentality. This is extremely unlikely to happen purely by random chance.

Secondly, we learn over the course of the game that Ayre is capable of hacking, cracking, searching, and understanding human communication and data systems to an impossibly advanced degree. This is proven in small ways over the course of the campaign where she helps 621 out with locked systems—often to Walter's surprise—but is most grandly demonstrated in the Fires of Raven ending, when she takes over the PCA's abandoned Closure System to try and shoot down the Xylem, a feat which Carla asserts would be impossible for the corporations to do—and Carla is the best and brightest survivor of the Rubicon Research Institute. In other words, Ayre is capable of breaking into any piece of human technology, and can also easily determine what ALLMIND is doing despite encryption and it covering its tracks.

Ayre also has access to another piece of technology which is outfitted with a Coral transceiver: 621. Ayre is most likely readily able to approximate a human in mindset and expression because she's hooked up to a human full of human memories.

This is not to say that Ayre is or isn't deceiving 621 as to what she is. It's not clear how sincere or not Ayre is. It's not clear how truthfully she is presenting herself and her agenda. She could be perfectly earnest and forthright, or she could absolutely be presenting 621 with what she thinks 621 needs to hear to do what is best for Coral and using 621 as a tool and means to an end, or anything in between. She could be benevolent and a true believer in symbiosis, or she could be using 621 to liberate Coral so that it may parasitize humanity. It's worth noting here that the easiest means of hacking systems is social engineering, and that 621 was specifically targeted for Contact.

What you're really presented with in AC6 is an Outside Context Problem: you are interfacing with an alien entity that certainly seems to be sapient, agreeable, helpful, and wanting only the best for you and humanity as a whole. But does it really? The game is essentially about who you decide to trust as you make a decision on an evolutionary question about the future of humanity.

Are human morality and ethics, and a willingness to be open and inclusive and welcoming, an evolutionarily adaptive trait? Or are they, in this case, maladaptive? Or... neither? Is trusting Ayre a good idea?Or Rusty? Or Walter and Carla? Or even ALLMIND? Or is the road to Hell paved with good intentions?

The truth is... all your choices are bad.

Ending: Fires of Raven

Walter and Carla's point—and that of Overseer and Professor Nagai of the Rubicon Research Institute—is fairly easy to understand. If nuclear bombs could self-replicate and were also sapient, would you allow them to do so just because they asked nicely? Or would you consider that to be a threat to not just humanity, but all life on Earth? They see the question of Coral as this hypothetical writ large, because Coral can replicate endlessly throughout space.

If one planet's worth of Coral can burn and contaminate an entire star system (or several; the game isn't quite clear on how many systems were affected), then what could a star system's worth of it do? How about several star systems? Or an entire galaxy? Coral is potentially a threat to the entire universe if it's allowed to get off of Rubicon 3. That Coral can also be ignited at any time by any sufficient explosion or natural phenomena; solar flares, supernova, nuclear bombs, even a sufficient chemical explosive or friction heating can ignite it. It could all go off for any reason at any time. Coral will present a threat as long as it exists, because there will always be those who seek to claim its power as their own for whatever ends: "Where there's Coral, there's blood."

The calculation as far as Overseer is concerned is simple: burn Rubicon 3, everyone on it, and everyone near it to save the rest of humanity and the universe at large. The casualties are collateral damage compared to the stakes. There are far, far more humans elsewhere than there are on Rubicon 3, and the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Is that right? Is it right to make Coral extinct, and genocide those on Rubicon 3, to save the rest of humanity, which apparently lives under an oppressively hypercapitalist megacorporate dystopia?

(It's worth noting at this point that the PCA is not the military of some grand government off to one side somewhere, like the UNSC Navy. It's its own entity and is effectively the Rubicon space police. This is reflected not only in its ship design, but in its ranks ("high-ranking officers" in the PCA are First Lieutenants and Captains, which are junior officers in an army or air force, but high ranks among police), in its language (the PCA treats resistance as a "declaration of war" upon itself, not any government it represents), in its ability to be banished from Rubicon 3 and an inability to reinforce from anywhere else, from the PCA's System AI being buried in the depths leading to Institute City, from the its terminology (Ekdromoi, CATAPHRACT, and NEPENTHES are all references to ancient Greece, notably dominated by city-states), and from the fact that in the Fires of Raven ending, despite being disgraced and shattered it's still in a position to negotiate, which would have been taken over by a higher authority above it after its dismal performance if any such authority existed. The PCA was most likely set up by the corporations (or perhaps planetary-level governments) as an independent actor after the Fires of Ibis. There is no grander government out there to save the day, and Armored Core as a franchise has never centered governments outside of Armored Core 2: Another Age.)

Some say yes, for the reasons Overseer gestures at. It's simply too dangerous to let it live, whether it's exploited by corporations or not, whether it achieves a Coral Collapse or not. It's also not talked about much, but an entity like Ayre also represents an infinitely more capable danger than one like ALLMIND; all she might need is time to gather resources.

Some say no, arguing that entities like Ayre have as much right to exist as humans, and that extinguishing them is not only repeating humanity's greatest crimes but denying its future improvement. It becomes tempting at this point to draw historical parallels, but the truth is that any such parallels are of dubious applicability considering human-on-human violence is not the same as interspecies violence against aliens, which humanity has (seemingly) never encountered, let alone aliens which are effectively weapons of mass destruction unto themselves. Some go even further and suggest humanity as it exists within AC6 is not worthy of survival, which is a much more suspect argument which frankly reeks of ecofascism.

The answer is: it depends on your risk assessment. Neither we the players, nor 621, know enough to actually make a truly informed choice. All the people who do and who aren't blinded by greed and power lust (that is to say, Walter, Carla, and Nagai) think it's the right thing to do. Do you trust them? It's ultimately your judgment call.

If you take the Fires of Raven ending, you (supposedly) destroy all the Coral, purge life from Rubicon 3 and its system, and cripple human civilization at large. Walter, Carla, Chatty, Rusty, Ayre, and everyone else all die. 621 is perhaps the sole survivor. It seems the Fires of Raven are grander than the Fires of Ibis, and the disgraced PCA and depleted remnants of Arquebus and Balam agree to abandon Rubicon 3 as they try to rebuild. 621, as Raven, goes down in history as the greatest monster of all time.

It is, however, entirely possible, given FROMSOFTWARE's Dark Souls series, that the Fires of Raven is merely the second in a never-ending line of humanity having to return to Rubicon 3 to ignite more Fires again and again, in a kind of grim echo of "linking the fire" in the first Dark Souls.

But what if I told you that the reason this ending is bad isn't necessarily because of the apparent extinction of Coral, or all the deaths both personal and statistical? Those are bad things, to be sure, but the real tragedy of the ending is you failed to actually engage with the problem Coral represents. You threw the baby out with the bathwater, and although you may or may not have prevented a Coral Collapse, you did nothing to change humanity's dystopian reality, and actually only made it worse by making it post-apocalyptic on top of everything else.

This fundamental issue—not really engaging with the problem—is true for the other endings as well. Each is an all-or-nothing solution to the problems at hand, and that is why they are all bad. Let's skip over to...

Ending: Alea Iacta Est

In this ending, Ayre lives, as does maybe Rusty, but you kill Chatty and ALLMIND kills Walter and Carla. ALLMIND betrays you, you fight the personality upload of G5 Iguazu, and finally defeat ALLMIND, but initiate ALLMIND's Coral Release program yourself.

What happens next is... unclear. Interpretations of it vary.

To me, it appears to be a kind of transcendent technological singularity wherein Coral, humanity, and humanity's technology in the form of Armored Cores, all unite together to create new kinds of beings beyond time and space, and beyond even death itself. The closest analogy to this is probably the Human Instrumentality Project in Neon Genesis Evangelion, or the "stargate sequence" in 2001: A Space Odyssey where Bowman is uploaded into the Monolith and becomes the Star Child. Or, to return to Dune once again, Leto II's symbiosis with the Sand Trout of Arrakis to become a human/Sandworm hybrid. Given the other ACs present in the ending, this appears to not be limited to 621, but likely extends to everyone on Rubicon 3, if not all of humanity. Another analogy might be the true ending of Bloodborne, but on a much grander scale.

This has the same problem as a sort of similar ending from the Mass Effect series, Mass Effect 3's Symbiosis ending. While in that game, BioWare attempted to make it the "correct" choice by showing everyone happy and satisfied with it in its ending cinematic, the truth is that nothing can possibly be a grander violation of the rights of sapient beings than forcing them into a new mode of existence which is discontinuous with their lives theretofore. It is not simply a violation of individual decision-making ability, it is a violation of bodily autonomy and control—it is rape, by the commonly understood definition, as rape is truly about bodily power over others and not sex, and it is the most egregious kind of rape imaginable: becoming something else entirely beyond human. This is effectively an eldritch body horror ending in which somewhere between Rubicon 3 and the entirety of humanity, if not the entire universe, appears to have been raped in an irrevocable fashion.

Whatever its exact nature, this ending has the same problems as the Fires of Raven: it does not actually engage with any extant problems at hand, it simply throws the baby out with the bathwater. In this case, rather than it being Coral that's disposed of, it's humanity itself, as V.III O'Keeffe feared when you were sent to eliminate him on the road to this ending. Humans aren't human anymore. None of humanity's issues were actually dealt with, they were simply disposed of wholesale with humanity having been deemed unworthy of any expenditure of effort, merely replacement through upgrading.

And here we come to...

Ending: Liberator of Rubicon

On the surface, this seems like the good ending, which is why most people call it that. Ayre lives, although 621 has to personally kill Walter, Carla, and Chatty, and it seems like Rusty is killed. The RLF takes control of Rubicon 3. 621 and Ayre look to the cosmos with hopeful optimism. What's not to like?

Except... remember Dune? This is the ending of Dune.

Do you know what happens after Paul Atreides and the Fremen defeat Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV and House Harkonnen on Arrakis, and Paul becomes Emperor himself? I'll tell you. His fanatical Fremen warriors spread his name throughout the rest of human space in Muad'Dib's Jihad, conservatively killing 61 billion people, mostly serfs and peasants and those who refused to forsake their faith.

Now you might say that Ayre and 621 don't want that to happen, but that's the point: it's not their choice to make, it's the RLF's. Paul didn't want it to happen in Dune either, he simply knew he couldn't stop it.

What exactly do you think is going to happen now that the faith of the Coral Warriors of the RLF is affirmed as righteous and true, now that they've defeated the PCA and corporations, now that they're in possession of all the Coral and all the Rubicon Research Institute's technology? What do you think Elcano is going to do with that research, alongside BAWS? Do you think they're going to just secure the system and be content?

Also, if Coral and humanity are to coexist together, doesn't that mean both growing in kind, together, as Ayre says? Doesn't that mean Coral augmentation surgery for everyone, with all the drawbacks that has? Or, at least, every human being a Doser to commune with Coral? What about all those who had Coral-replacement augmentation surgery, which negated the need for relying on Coral in the first place? Are they not automatically a threat to the new order, which must be destroyed to safeguard it?

Think that sounds too grim?

Don't you think it's odd that this ending comes with no narrated epilogue like Fires of Raven does, telling you what happened afterward? Instead you get Ayre telling you simply:

"Raven… One day, humanity and Coral will thrive together. You kept our potential safe. I know Walter feared a Collapse… but I promise you, there's another way. Raven… we'll find it. Together."

That sounds quite hopeful, but personally I key in on two particular phrases: one day, and we'll find it together. They remind me of something from another franchise:

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Palpatine seduces Anakin to the Dark Side of the Force by dangling the prospect of cheating death in front of him, preying on Anakin's fear of visions of Padmé dying. After Anakain has committed to betraying his allies and helped kill Mace Windu, Palpatine admits:

"To cheat death is a power only one has achieved, but if we work together I know we can discover the secret."

I find Ayre's very similar speech after 621 has betrayed and killed Carla, Chatty, and Walter to be... uninspiring... personally.

Now, I'm not telling you that Ayre is Darth Sidious or a Sith Lord, although it sure is interesting Coral is red.

What I am telling you is to remember that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and where there's Coral, there's blood. You shouldn't naïvely assume that the story so heavily influenced by Dune, which is at this point directly referencing Dune, will stray very far from it, no matter how good Ayre's intentions might actually be. Because if Ayre is genuine, then she's exceptionally naïve herself, as we see from her reactions to ALLMIND's plans in Alea Iacta Est.

Even if no Dune-like Jihad sweeps AC6's universe, all the problems posed by Coral detonations and Wave Mutations and Coral Collapse still remain.

This ending, too, throws the baby out with the bathwater: instead of losing Coral, or overtly losing humanity, we have instead decided to discard the grim hypercapitalist megacorporate dystopia for a grim ultrafanatical cult religion dystopia which will also probably be even worse and/or the omnipresent threat of total mass destruction. In The Devil's Dictionary, Ambrose Bierce gave the following definition:

Conservative (n.) A statesman who is enamoured of existing evils, as distinguished from the Liberal, who wishes to replace them with others.

If the Fires of Raven is conservative, preserving the status quo and its existing evils and making them worse, then both Alea Iacta Est and Liberator of Rubicon are liberal, ushering in different horrors which are only refreshing in so far as they are different than the ones that came before.

If Balam and Arquebus stand in for, oh, say, Amazon and Apple, then the RLF stands in for ISIS or Al Qaeda or the Shining Path. This is not a happy and uplifting ending, it's simply different and arranged to feel good in the moment to those who don't know what the game is drawing upon so it can pull the rug out from under them later.

Avatar

Since Dune has featured so prominently in this essay, I want to take a moment to talk about James Cameron's Avatar (2009), which has over time variously been derided as a rip-off of Dune, or Dances With Wolves or FernGully: The Last Rainforest in space, among other things. You might be asking why, so I'll cut to the chase.

The problem with Avatar is that nothing is actually resolved. Although Jake Sully's defection to the Na'vi results in the human Resources Development Administration being driven from Pandora, their hunger for unobtanium isn't quenched. Earth's resource crisis isn't solved. The shadowy elites ruling over humanity are still in charge. Nothing actually changes, problems are merely kicked down the road. The reason for this is simple: individual actions cannot solve systemic problems, whatever that systemic problem might be, be it classism, racism, environmental degradation, or so on.

In AC6, we observe systemic problems in the form of humanity's capture by corporations and bureaucracies that serve profits or power and not the common good, and the persistent problem of Coral which must be managed somehow. We do not actually resolve either of those issues as 621. We simply upset the balance one way or another and let the chips fall where they may, invoking this or that abhorrent deus ex machina.

Conclusion

While Fires of Raven represents the status quo (and stagnation and decay), Liberator of Rubicon represents the chaos of change (and likely war and fire) and Alea Iacta Est represents a fundamental rejection of humanity.

621 never actually lives up to the reputation of Raven in choosing a path of their own making. All the endings simply involve 621 choosing to trust one party or another, be it Walter and Carla and Nagai, or Ayre, or ALLMIND, rather than truly coming to their own decisions and directly addressing the actual problems at hand. This is represented in how the player is always held back until they have to deal with Xylem about to hit the Vascular Plant one way or another.

While I said that individual actions cannot solve systemic problems, they can begin to show the way toward systematic approaches to systemic problems. This is what we're told Raven represents when they're introduced properly, and also seems to be what Branch as a faction stand for. (It's notable here that when we meet Branch in NG+/NG++, they're working against the RLF, despite having previously fought the PCA.) It's also a video game, and thus is really about a power fantasy, but there's no power fantasy here. The game is never actually about your choice, it's only about who you choose to side with...

... And all the options they present you with are bad.

If there was to be an expansion, as with so many other FROMSOFTWARE games, I would hope it would be one focused around actually resolving the situation in a way of our own choosing, because that option is sorely lacking in an otherwise fantastic game.

#Out Of Character #Long Post #Meta #Armored Core VI #Armored Core 6 #Rape Mention TW #Genocide Mention TW #Death Mention TW #Spoilers TW

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