#maybe nobody said anything bc it was obvious??? idk

[friends-w-ghosts]

Nothing like deciding to draw small repetitive details in the lineart process that I know I’ll complain about as soon as I have to color.

[louderfade]

exene talking about the state of the world. the good stuff starts at eight minutes. or you can just read the transcript complete with the usual errors that accompany robot transcribed speech (the irony of which is not lost on me). maybe it's not about transhumanism and living forever (or maybe it is who knows), but there's definitely an agenda of surveillance and control at work which is designed to keep the powerful in power. cash rules everything around me and you will own nothing etc. the future is worse.

[pooplyface1423]

Tsudere /sub Jax that pretends to hate the reader but does things to secretly be with them x a fem happy but smart Uzadere that loves being in the circus.She loves adventures,animals,cute things,fighting,food ect! lots of energy too but can be pretty insensitive and a little selfish with a little crush on jax. I feel like at first jax would completely reject liking her then he would be extra mean,then Maybe subconsciously know he likes her amd hates the feeling lol. cus he copes by trying to not have feelings and tries to act "tough". its pretty obvious that the reader is in love with him but his dumb ass cant catch on . She gives lots of compliments which makes him flustered and mad ( he is mad bc he thinks nobody likes him that much, he is mean to her to make her go away but it doesn't work ) but he pretends not to care. the reader would definitely confesses first tho. Sorry for such a long request its just that not many people write jax in this sorta way so i had to be detailed lol. also if you don't wanna use female pronouns you can make it non gender ofc 😅tysm for even reading such a long thing! and you don't have to do this at all lr you can switch it up. Anything is VERY appreciated tho😊

DUDE this question was long but its a very good one so lemme write it.:]

Warning: Kissing (just like one but still) CRINGEEE and that it.

also Y/N is female just so ya'll know but not a lot is said about her gender here so could be non binary.

Lil backstory : When You first got here it was around 7 months before pomni gets into the circus. your reactions to seeing all the supposed people was terrifying u were laughing your brains of since u thought it was all just a big prank but once u realized it was real u were just stunned. I mean u were still amazed like wow i'm in a virtual reality type of reaction. And about what u look like idk that up to yourself but lets say Ur like a type of animal could be a cat or something else. U were always ecstatic to be in the circus and everybody even Caine were surprised. Like it not everyday in this virtual reality u see a person who is more than happy to be there. (also i'm not really gonna add Kaufmo since their is little to no info bout him)

Okay now to the good stuff

So really your weren't stupid to not notice how Jax would occasionally "look ur way to see something else" nor to notice how differently he treated u compared to the others. Either he would go out of his way to be nice or mean to you.

You were chatting bout random nonsense with zooble when she said

"Hey Y/n do you see how much of a dumb### Jax's looks like just looking at you"Looking at you then at Jax then at you.

"no lemme check"You turned around to see jax looking away from you to above you? yea he was doing the "look ur way to see something else" crap again.

"ugh it starting to annoy me" Says Zooble wanting to stand up and start to beat the crap out of Jax but thankfully u stopped her then said

"hey its okay he may be weird and all but we got to be used to this anyway where stuck here"

"but he does like you Y/n we can all see it in his eyes" Says Ragatha entering the conversation

"yea ragatha is right how bout we make a plan to you know um- make him confess he like you" says zooble looking at you waiting for an answer.

Then u spoke up

"Sure i guess but knowing him he would never confess"

"Ugh lets head to my room to discuss the plan" says ragatha getting up

You three walk all he way to the room corridors and enter Ragatha's Room and discus how you would get Jax to confess his feelings to you.

"Okay so how should we do this" says Ragatha with some confusion in her face

"Well we know that Jax is a very Um- how should I say this es stupid and lets just say hes like a little puppy who follows you around" Says zooble before you with shook face say

"WAIT what is that supposed to mean I never see him trailing behind me"

"He does he always trails behind you buts ur either dumb or blind since u never see him literary behind u. ALL THE TIME" Says Zooble

"Well um- we should get started with the plan and stop taking bout how Jax is a little twerp" Says Ragatha with a bit of an annoyed face splatted in her face

"Okay okay well first of all since we know Jax is like a little dog with nothing else to do than follow Y/n we should..........."Says Zooble spilling out what the plan would be about.

Well basically the plan is make Jax follow u around Y/n complements Jax every time he does something for her even the smallest of things like letting u have the first of anything picking up flowers for u,him pranking u and much more.

Everything was going according to the plan Jax being Jax follows you around and sneaks up on you with a centepied (which ur scared of) and lands it right besides u trying to get a scared yelp from u but instead u just threw it away and said

"Jax u little bad bunny don't do that again" while pinching his cheek just slightly

"~wait you aren't mad?" Says Jax while becoming a blushing mess

"no of course not bunny boy come on lets go outside"

you two go outside and jax keeps trying to make your way there horrible by trying to trip ur feet over and over again but failing miserably.

Once you both are by the lake you start to look around and see Zooble and Ragatha watching impatiently.

"So what are we doing here again?" says Jax

"nothing much just .. Taking in some fresh air i guess"

"Y/n there is no fresh air here u know that right?" says Jax with a serious face

"Oh um i meant like ..... space apart of everyone"

"ok i guess then what should we do?" says Jax with a sly smile appearing in his face

"how about we go on the tea cups?"

"whatever you want toots" says Jax

Both spend 2 hours trying all the rides over and over, Jax never saying crap

As the day ends in the digital realm first comes the digital dinner the classic chicken and veggies.

After that, Caine suggested that you all play a quick game, and with no other option, everybody agrees.

HIDE & SEEK

"yay i guess" says zooble clearly annoyed they have to do this activity even tho it is fun she wants her alone

After the game which took around 30 min like damn these dudes have great hiding spots ,Caine gave everybody the green light to finally have there alone time/sleep

"UGH finally" Zooble before walking up to you

"Hey Y/n did Jax say anything to you?" Says Zooble quickly before she forgets about it

"No ... what should we do?"

"Hey idk bout you but i would of totally just make the first move at this point"Says Ragatha walking up to you both of you

"Well she has a point" "bout what?" "bout how you should def make the first move now since his dumb##s won't do S#it"

"okay I'll try but do i have to do it in front of u all or do i wait for everybody to leave?"

"Um okay new plan......." Says zooble making the new plan

Basically make gangle distract Jax long enough for everybody to leave to there rooms then gangle runs away, Then y/n will sneak up on Jax and spill the beans herself.

Everything went accordingly as planed gangle ran away just as she noticed everybody gone. Then Jax shrugs it of and slowly walks up to his room until...

"Hey Jax" "what do you want?" "not much just wanna talk to you...bout something"

"bout what dollfac-"

He says before being interrupted by a kiss

"does that answer ur question?"

"UM what was that?"... bb-but i guess it does"

"that's great! its official were dating"

"Wait WHAT!?" says Jax surprised as hell

"Goodnight Jax!" Says y/n as she gives one last kiss on his cheek

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Hello finally finished hope u enjoyed.:]

@fuckyalllkl

[melancholysway]

ROTTMNT Rise!Leo x Reader: Camera Shy

He’s such a cutie omg

anonymous said: If it’s not asking much, but could you please do some Headcanons or a scenario with… honestly whichever version, I’m addicted to rottmnt lately but please do with whichever you think suits better, and whichever turtle you think it might suit this scenario better or idk me lols *tucks hair* -with a reader (x reader scenario, i Hope I’m making sense lmao- could be already in a relationship or crush stage) and reader seems rather off during movie night or game night, no one seems to notice I guess (besides crushing turtle) and that seems to make them even more reclusive. Gets bad to the point when someone tries to take a pic of them or someone asks for a picture off all of them together, they jump out and say they will take it, when crushing turtle asks them to be in the picture, reader says it’s alright or it doesn’t matter and take it anyway? From Not being in the picture (doesn’t like to take pics bc of how they look, they like the whole making memories concept but hate how they look in very picture, and today it’s been hard to deal with it) do you mind doing something more on a comforting scenario?

This is for one of my good online friends, i hope you like it! <3 ily queen omg

We all know rise!Leo is a camera whore

Like the man will really snatch the camera away & put it on himself he gives no type of fucks

Y’all can clown rise leo all you want, but he’s observant. He notices EVERYTHING. everyone around him, he knows

So he knows when there’s even a slight shift with you

He’s not an over analyzer, he just knows how to read the room well and feel the vibe

And if he doesn’t like said vibe prepare to hear his mf mouth

You have a crush on Leonardo. It happens fairly quick after meeting him and his brothers. The way you met them was…peculiar. Your friend April had lost Mayhem in her bathroom mirror, and as you came over unannounced to surprise her with takeout, you were greeted with four turtles coming through her mirror along with her…er…mystic cat. 

You think you’re living in a fantasy world at first

She doesn’t exist or these 4 life sized turtles

But when the one in blue with red scars speaks to you and says how he’s so good-looking that he left you speechless and caused you to faint, you come to the conclusion that it’s all real.

So it’s settled, you share the takeout with April and the turtles, and you get to meet Mayhem. It’s a win-win…-win. 3 wins!

As time goes on, you become comfortable around them, you gravitate toward Leonardo. He has an encapsulating personality that honestly, anybody could fall for. If you brush past the cocky comments and large ego, Leo’s perfect.

Crushing on Leo is no easy feat. He’s hyper yet lazy, unpredictable yet calculated, and his ego is the size of a fucking Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade float

If you date Leo, he’ll always attempt to get you out of your comfort zone. It doesn’t matter how, he’ll do it.

Despite being close to Leonardo, you don’t tell him about your own personal insecurities. You avoid cameras and taking photos with friends, all of that. 

You’re able to keep that in for a long time. A while, actually. Leo has no idea, his brothers have no idea, nobody knows. 

Unbeknownst to you, Leonardo likes you, too. He however, decides to not say anything for the time being. 

He flirts with you, but subtly. Small compliments here and there, occasional touch, loves to be around you? Yeah, that kind of subtle. His flirting is so painfully obvious to April yet somehow brushes past you. He’s just being friendly, right? Maybe? Or (hopefully) you beat him to the punch and confess your potential feelings for him? That's the thing, he’s not sure if you feel the same way. Sure, his occasional flirtatious manner gets you blushing like mad, but that’s normal when someone compliments you.

Back to your personal conflict.

You keep so much in including emotions that Leo just can’t read you at times. He reads actions, not minds. He can’t tell that you feel insecure about yourself in photos until the sleepover. He sees it. He finds out. Thanks to being invited to a sleepover down in the Lair. He realizes it.

And oh, does he have a mouthful to tell you when he does.

“Okay, the annual Sewer Sleepover is ending in T-minus 30 minutes people!” Donnie says, checking his watch absentmindedly. Once the sleeping portion was done, it always ended with a big friends/bros breakfast in the morning. 

“Are we taking flics?”

Raph cocks a brow and Mikey snickers, “Flics?” Donnie asks, watching as Leo gets up from his spot on the couch and stretches. 

“I’m just…wow that felt good,” cracking his back for everyone to see causes April to cringe from the noise,   “I’m trying to be hip.”

“It’s not working.” April comments, putting her eye mask back on and flopping back on her spot on the floor. 

You were participating in the 4th annual Sewer Sleepover with April and the turtles. Leo had mentioned it one day, to which Mikey suggested you join the next one as it was coming up soon. It’s today! Err, yesterday, actually. It was an amazing time, you got to hang out with your good friends, gorge on food, play video games together, and the best part: draw a penis on the sorry sucker who fell asleep first. 

It was Donnie, by the way. So it’s pretty hard right now to keep a straight face without snickering everytime you look at him, so everyone just avoided eye contact. Nobody has the heart to tell him; poor Donnie. He just looks so excited to take this photo and told April to put it at an angle to get his “good side.”

~ 

How did you get to this point? You’re sandwiched in between Raph and Leo while he puts an arm around you. As much as you’re crushing on Leo right now, you feel uncomfortable as you wait for April’s phone to finish counting down and snap a picture. The longer you wait and the more anxious you get to hear the camera snap, you begin to feel sick. 

3…

2…

1…

“Crap.” What a relief. The phone fell from the contraption April made to keep the phone standing up. Maybe she should just invest in a phone stand or something.

Before she can readjust the phone back, you swiftly leave Leo’s grip, grabbing the phone and standing behind it. 

“Here,” you start, “I can take it instead.” 

“What? No way, Y/n! You have to be in the 4th Annual Sewer Sleepover Extravaganza photo!” Leo exclaims, earning a nod from Raph and Donnie.

“Yeah,  Y/n, we can just find another spot to put it, no biggie.” April adds, yet you don’t agree. You’d really, really rather not be in the group photo. Plus, what’s so bad about being behind the camera, anyway? 

You can feel your anxiety rising as now all eyes are on you, Leo’s making it especially worse. After a few moments, you just huff in slight annoyance. 

“Guys,” You breathe, “I can take it. It’s not that serious.”

“It is! We want you in the photo too!” Raph tries to change your mind, yet you can’t be persuaded. 

“Maybe Y/n’s just camera shy. Is that it?” Donnie blurts out. Sometimes, Donnie doesn’t really think about what comes out of his mouth. Most of the time it’s just his inner thoughts, but this time, his inner thoughts are correct. 

Camera shy was just the tip of the iceberg for you. There were other factors. None of which you would be outright telling everyone, either.

“Yeah, Don,” You sigh and fiddle with your fingers, “That’s exactly it.” There’s a slew of silence that only seems to be awkward to you, and it results in the others complying and getting back in their spots for the photo. You glance at Leo as you lift up the camera and begin to count down, and he realizes he isn’t going to be able to stand next to you during the photo anymore. His eyes quickly meet yours, and when they do, you immediately hide your blush behind the phone, only for him to give a look of concern. Something just wasn’t right with you. 

~

You’re feeling better for the time being. After placing what’s just transpired in the back of your mind, you try to distract yourself by helping Mikey flip pancakes while the rest of the brothers and April (attempt) to help. Except Leo, he’s banned from the kitchen. Because of this, he’s never really sure what to do during the group breakfast cooking portion of the sleepover. That is, until, you accidentally get pancake batter on your shirt thanks to being clumsy, and you’re on your way to to wash it off in the bathroom upstairs. 

“Gah, stupid Bisquik mix,” You curse to yourself, using all the strength you have to scrub the stain out under cold running water. As you’re hunched over the sink, you fail to notice Leonardo walk past the open bathroom door, only to realize it when he clears his throat. 

“You shouldn’t be camera shy.”

As you stop scrubbing for a moment, you don’t look back at him. “It’s deeper than that, Leon.” Continuing to scrub, Leo walks into the room, his eyes focused entirely on you. 

He liked it when you used his nickname. Leon beats Leo for some odd reason, and it made him feel good. 

You didn’t want to admit the fact that there’s something more going on, but it’s Leo, he wouldn’t scream to the whole world your personal problems (unless you approved of course,) he had respect for others (to a degree.)

“I know, I- okay, you’re never gonna get out the stain if you’re scrubbing it like that.” 

So, you sit there in silence for a bit, watching as Leo scrubs at your shirt- the right way. Not any different from the way you were doing it, but to each their own. 

“Are you insecure?” Leo takes on Donnie’s persona at times, he says what he thinks. Like right now, where he’s not trying to intrude, but he wants to know. Is that how you feel about yourself? 

So, you tell Leo everything. It comes out like word vomit, and you’re going 100 miles per hour trying to make sense of your emotions. 

You’re insecure, you lack self-confidence, you don’t think you look good in photos, you think that you’re better off behind the camera rather in front of it. It’s something that’s been bothering you for quite awhile. That you don’t belong in group photos with your friends, as bad as it sounds. You think it’s true. You don’t belong.

“For what it’s worth,” Leo stops, just the water being the only sound in the bathroom, “I think you do.” You belong. To Leonardo, you belong. He’s midway into almost finishing getting the stain out of your shirt and says that. As your breath hitches, Leo looks up at you, his eyes once again looking at yours- thinking he said something wrong. But, he didn’t. You needed to hear that, and it coming from Leonardo made it much more meaningful. The guy you have feelings for thinks of you in such a way that makes you appreciate him. 

As the heat rises in your cheeks, you turn the other way, trying to find something in the bathroom to distract you. Those monarch butterfly shower curtains look nice, wouldn’t you say?

“Th-thanks, Leon, I…um…” You stop yourself, just because Leo lifted your spirits, doesn’t mean he likes you, does he? But he just looks so good right now, his hands on your shirt still trying to get that god forsaken Bisquick pancake mix stain out- who knew batter could be such a bitch to get out of clothing? And oh, the way his arm brushes against your skin while he’s doing it? Come on. You’re practically inhaling his scent- he always smells like this Axe spray he found while digging through Raph’s old things one day, and he abuses it so much. He thinks it’ll attract mates. Well, he’s half-correct. Though it wasn’t the reason it attracted you, it still had you in a chokehold. 

“I know what it’s like to not like the body you’re in. I mean, look at me, Y/n, A life-size mutant turtle. The average person is most likely scared of my dashing good looks.” This is Leonardo’s way of being supportive, guys. 

“Well,” You swallow, mustering up the courage to say what you’ve been thinking this whole time since knowing Leonardo, “I like the way you look.” You say it with your chest, and your assertiveness makes Leo’s eyes light up. You like Leo’s presence. It doesn’t repulse you. 

“Me too. I mean! I like YOU, wait- I like the way you look, too.” Now, Leo is a confident guy, but right now, you just had him stumble over his words. He likes you? 

“What I mean is, I think you should’ve been in the photo with us. You look great.”

He thinks you look great. 

And God, his (very hot) voice complimenting you like that? He knows what he’s doing. He’s the flirty type, everyone knows that. But, he’s flirting with you!

“It’s out.” Leo lets go of your shirt, and looking down, you just see a damp spot in the middle of it, though the stain is gone. “You actually got it all out, thank you.” 

“I’m simply a threat against any food-caused stain.” He says, puffing up his chest only to earn a small laugh from you. He smiles, looking at you, only for your eyes to meet with his. 

He suddenly gets this boost of confidence- more than usual, and pulls a Donnie.

“I think you’re like, really pretty.” 

Oh! Alright, Leo. His voice lowers to a whisper, and it seems as he’s drawing closer to you. Or are you drawing closer to him? It’s a little bit of both, a spur of the moment kind of thing. You both just…get closer. His lips come closer to yours, and when it’s up to that point where you’re too nervous to continue, Leonardo is the one to close the gap in between you two. 

His lips on yours? You could die right now. Despite Leo’s flirting, you couldn’t have seen it coming. Especially right now. His little compliments here and there now hold lots of meaning to you. 

The kiss doesn’t last long, as it’s your first kiss together. However, pulling away from Leo left you empty. You wanted more from him. Come to find out, he felt the exact same. So instead of continuing it in the bathroom, he grabs your hand and steps out into the hallway. There’s commotion coming from the kitchen, but nowhere else. Leo picks a wall for your back to lean on and you share the second kiss. His hand under your chin while the other around your waist. It’s a beautiful moment, and it feels so fucking good. Your hands play with the ends of Leo’s bandana, to which he hums into the kiss as a response. Eyes closed, oblivious to everything around you, and the feeling of your lips on Leo is truly enchanting.

“Hey Y/n I- oop-” You jolt back to reality, breaking the kiss and looking at April, who’s staring sheepishly at you and Leonardo, “Nnnnevermind, uh---oh! pancakes are kissin- I mean sizzling!” April huffs, inhaling slowly, “The pancakes are sizzling. I’ll um…leave-”

Once April goes back down toward the kitchen, far away from you and Leo, only for you both to laugh together. 

“Okay, that was so-”

“Awkward?”

“Aww, Y/n,” Leo cooes, “We’re already finishing each other’s sentences.”

Although you wanted to kiss Leo more, the food was smelling so good, and it seemed that he had the same thought. You were both starved. 

As Leo talks about how he was so ready to tell everyone with his hand in yours, he’s then brought down only for the others to tell him straight up that it was pretty obvious. 

“Like, serious?” Donnie deadpans, while Raph scolds Mikey for putting an insane amount of syrup on his pancakes. He um…enjoys syrup with a side of pancakes. “I knew it! I should’ve betted money or something.” 

Although it’ll take time to get comfortable taking photos with friends, you’re lucky enough to have someone like Leo, who'll pick you up and shower you with compliments. Anything to help you feel better about yourself.

//

taglist:

@bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside @writingandcrying

Masterlist

[pumpkinsy0]

Headcanons for Mexican American Dallas who feels a bit self conscious about not being seen as conventionally attractive? (Bonus points for Tim comforting him)

mexican american dallas makes a return,,, whats good man,,,

•OK BEFORE I START ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN, dally being self conscious isnt him exactly hiding those attributes of himself, he doesnt hide it, but that doesnt mean he LIKES it, he makes self degrading comments and ppl pass it off, but if u squint, its pretty obvious he is self conscious, but if u told him that he’d laugh at u for a multitude of reasons

•also i dont think his self hatred is just contained to himself, hes not above not making comments about others and their features, but its not really out of genuine malice and hatred for what he is, its just like a,,,deep rooted self hatred, pls tell me u get what i mean

•NOW when it comes to dally back in brooklyn, part of what made him feel insecure was that he just didnt grow up w ppl that looked like him, he grew up in a mainly white neighborhood so nobody rlly looked like him, thats also kinda y hes not connected to his culture id say

•im gonna say that if theres one part about him be’d rlly focus on in particular, id say he doesnt like his nose that much and right after that is his hair and how curly it is, dally canonically doesnt grease his hair and i imagine for this that his hair being curly is part of the reason y, it takes quite a long time to do it

•bc he doesnt grease his hair and thats like, a kinda big part of the greaser culture, he feels a bit like an outsider for it. hes not connected to his mexican heritage and hes not 100% “committed” to being a greaser either in his eyes, so i feel like that messes w him a bit. some times he even watches pony or soda grease their hair and focuses on it being straight, soda and pony r the ones in the gang ppl see to have “tuff hair” and dally thinks their hair being straight is part of the reason y it is

•dally would even go as far as to call johnny lucky for having straight hair, its comments like those that show that he has a bit of self hatred

•id say dally compares himself to the curtis bros quite a bit actually. theyre seen as the “golden family” amongst the gang, and how they look isnt lost amongst dally at all, dally thinks hes just a complete lost cause bc of how he looks and how he doesnt have a chance bc of it, so he rlly doesnt even try to accomplish anything in particular and kinda, does whatever, like a “nobody cares for what i do, so why should i” thing

•id say tim, kinda feels the same way???? but the difference w him is, he tries to still make something of himself. yea he feels like hes not getting as far as the curtis’ would, but he still tries to do his own thing, and he tries getting dally to do the same sometimes, he doesnt push him, but he does plant the seed

•now if hes pale, this is a COMPLETELY different case scenario, but if hes tan, i think he’d look at the curtis bros and just feel a type of way, he doesnt say anything about it, but he doesnt rlly like being near the curtis bros for too long, hes had ppl make comments about how he looks near them, and it annoys him more than anything, so he keeps his distance from them physically, but i think johnny being there helps him a lil

•ok ifffff im not wrong, pls correct me if i am, not too well versed on this topic, but the chicano movement started in like 1965???? somewhere in the 60s, so i think it would b interesting if dally caught wind of it, and it kind of inspires him??in a way??? i hope what im saying makes sense, like it inspires him to look at things differently about the world and himself, considering the movement talked about political AND social issues (like i said, correct me if im wrong or feel free to switch this up a bit, trying my best here💔💔)

•idk if u like,,,,hc the shepards to also b mexican american or if u just want them to stand in like #pocsolidarity, but maybe it was tim who introduced it to dally, and dally was like “mannnn shut up, im not trynna hear that rn” but dally would lowkey b thinking about it a bit more

•going back to that earlier hc, i think what really makes tim pay attention to what dally says IS bc of the comments dally makes towards ppl who look like him, its especially true if u wanna make the shepards mexican, bc most of the comments he makes is towards tim and curly, he even does it to johnny but not as much honestly, but ESPECIALLY the comments he makes towards curly bc of curlys obviously curly hair and how dally feels about his own, that makes tim think, what is UP w this guy

•honestly, i wouldnt say tim “comforts” him, but he does sure make dally think about what he says bc sometimes he just responds w “what is ur problem w it”, at most the closest he gets to comforting is when dally makes a comment about himself and tim calmly goes “i dont mind the look”

[tryhardgwen]

omg my first platonic fic

this is a platonic showmaker & chovy (& faker) runeterra au with proplayers as league of legends champions (kindred). i used a lot of league of legends canonical lore and then spun it with my own ideas :]

idk how tumblr works again but i realize I can do a lot more long form messages here so I will probably use this blog to put my thought process about writing fics? i will put that below, but it has spoilers so if u wanna check it out probably read the fic first !!

named after the sleep token song:

i chose this song to name it after this not only because the obvious kindred relation with "the eyes of the wolf / the mouth of the lamb" but also because of the other lyrics!

"for so long I have waited / so long that I almost became / just a stoic statue fit for nobody" is very much the grey man coded.

"the vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me" would talk about the creation of the kindred, and lamb and wolf. they are each others escape.

"i know i know the way that it goes / you get what you give / you reap what you sow" well... kindred. they give death, and... ok imma stfu.

"and just like the rain / you cast the dust into nothing / and wash out the salt from my hands / so touch me again /i feel my shadow dissolving / will you cleanse me with pleasure?" i think speaks to the relationship between lamb and wolf again.

"nobody can say for certain / if maybe it's all just a game / when I open my eyes to the future / I can hear you say my name" is what I perceive to be the kindred and the grey man's relationship. :>

in the end notes i vaguely touch on the idea of the "LCK Mid" which I think is one of thee most interesting dynamics in lolesports. I've been wanting to write plat fics for a while to sort of explore. in my eyes the holy trinity of the lck mid would be faker, chovy, and showmaker. man I love them. also my grammarly keeps autocorrecting showmaker to shoemaker and its so annoying lmao.

but anyway they r SO INTERESTING! in this fic i tried to include a lot of parallels, from how showmaker as lamb knows more than chovy as wolf—because chovy hasn't won anything internationally unlike showmaker has. chovy's more hungry, because he hasn't won a world championship yet. not to mention their relationship with faker—each having a diff specialization and aspect of their gameplay. showmaker has said many times about how he doesn't want to be the next faker so i made him despise the grey man here. with faker as the grey man i again use the whole "alone at the top" trope because... oh my god I'm a sucker for that. he's got everything, but everyone hates him, and he is lonely. plus my ending + the cyclic nature of the world/of the esports... faker will always be there. it will always come back to him. there will be other midlaners, but its always faker at the end, or so it seems.

anyway! i had a lot of fun writing this fic. it was very challenging and out of my comfort zone because it was platonic and abt people I haven't written about before, and because its a lot more... abstract? it relies on parallelism and reading between the lines. idk. my brain is dumb. i am also dumb. i just vomit words on a google doc and pray for the best.

if anyone has more questions u can ask here on tumblr or on retrospring. please be nice bc again tumblr scares me. i am easily scared.

[terraliensvent]

thanks for being open to critique /gen

I sadly do agree with the anon on the pkmn blog rn bc I also noticed a change in how you respond aswell.

i can think of two examples straight off my head of when you seemed biased. srry to bring it back up but ya the first time was when the porn proportioned terra discourse happened. you spoke for the anon and changed the meaning of what they said to “oh they just meant kea should be more varied” when its clear thats not what ppl were upset about. the second example was when you also made it seem like anons who had imo very legit reasons to be upset about the way you handled the “speculation” were just being crazy out of nowhere. like you said they were like “you should die in a fire if u think this is ok” when no one said that, they were just rightfully disgusted and concerned.

ik this is a drama blog but the truth does matter too even when it means conceding that someone u disagree with was not bad in a situation or also that someone u agree with was bad.

idk i think u have been ok sofar but like yea if u learned from this it would make ur blog alot better like when it started

post related

example 1

example 2

prefacing my reply by saying im not arguing against the point this anon made or trying to paint my responses linked as “correct” or anything, just giving my reasoning for stuff

i will say that these 2 situations are the ones that have exhausted me the most when it comes to topics on here, which does further my point about how i can be bitter when topics get more aggressive. im not sure if i should take this as an issue with myself, or whether to show that being nasty to myself and others in my inbox just helps nobody. lets go with both!

starting with example 1, i felt like i made it pretty clear that i had my own interpretation of the comment, i think i even said as much within my reply. i will admit though i dont really have any sort of fondness for kea and their previous sexualization of terra adopts did leave a bad taste in my mouth regarding them. regardless, i think the reason i gave og anon so much slack is because of the (in my opinion) unbalanced response to it in the first reply. i think that there should be some more disconnect when it comes to critiquing a person ideas as opposed to the person themselves; what i mean by that is you can say “that comment you made or that idea you hold is misogynistic” without making aggressive assumptions as the person replying did. i think that maybe it makes it my fault for not being clearer that assumptions like that arent welcome here, or maybe its more my fault for having a very specific expectation of how people should interact. either way

example 2 i think has a bit of a shorter explanation, this specific ask set me off about the whole situation, since i agree it really shouldnt have gone on as long as it did. but as ive stated many times before i prefer to post everything in my inbox just to be more trustworthy as a mod and i was expecting that ppl could just let the topic die on its own. the assumptions thing was also happening here, and with the arguing going on it just pissed me off. i will say about the specific “die in a fire comment” that wasnt me so much saying that anons were claiming stuff like that, but rather me being hyperbolic in explaining my stance. i can be really hyperbolic on here when it comes to jokes and i can realize sometimes it isnt the most obvious thing, but thats my way of communicating for when im not being the most serious. with that specific situation, i was getting really annoyed that people were winding down to slapfighting, and if i presented the opposing anons as crazy or not really having a leg to stand on, thats my bad. i can see where both sides are coming from, it was just at that point in the argument i really just wanted it to be done and i maintain the stance that it really wasnt any of our business

i dont mean to present my opinions on here as the correct ones or that people who disagree with me are bad, and my responses on here are meant to be my interpretation of asks and how i see things personally. if i give my interpretation, it isnt meant to be like “oh actually anon meant this,” its more like “the way i read it is they could mean this, i dont have a ton of evidence one way or the other though so this is just my thoughts”

in the end though, i think both of these instances can be majorly chalked up to me becoming snippy, lol

[cwc-emoji-pluck]

Hey,

may I request these three emojis for the event?

🌈⚡️🐸

Hope you're having fun with this!

~ Flurry

member: minghao x fem!reader

genre: fluff, light angst, percy jackson au <3

word count: 1488

warnings: mentions of sword fighting, swearing, y/n 'slaps' minghao on the shoulder but it's not like. bad or anything its like a playful smack to the shoulder, and also jokes about y/n playfully !!! hitting chan and hansol (they're besties pls don't worry) also cheol smacking joshua's shoulder? idk there is a lot of shoulder smacking going on

emojis requested:

🌈 - rick riordan’s world of percy jackson; seventeen are demigods in modern times ⚡️: a campground in the woods where it is common for people to suddenly disappear after swimming in the believed-to-be haunted lake  🐸 - Minghao

author's note: hahahaha i have no idea what i'm doing,,,it's been so long since i posted something school has just been...honestly it's not that bad i just don't have the energy to write a lot bc in between classes i take naps so :) also hello flurry it's been so long </3 i hope you are doing amazing and i apologize for taking 10000 years lmao pls enjoy !! (also thanks to my bestie @gallivantingheart for beta reading ily)

my main blog: @wonwooslibrary

Y/N ran across the field away from her home cabin and towards the volleyball court where her two best friends sat. “He’s gone.” 

Mingyu and Seokmin, sons of Zeus and Apollo respectively, look over to Y/N. 

“Who?” Mingyu asks. 

“Minghao, he’s gone. The last time I saw him was when he said he was going to the lake. I told him not to go and that it would be safer if he went with someone but of course he didn’t listen to me.” 

Seokmin’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. Soonyoung said he wasn’t at archery today and Chan said he hasn’t seen him since before he went to the lake. Junhui saw him on his way to the lake, but didn’t see him come back.” 

Mingyu hummed. “Did he actually like,” he gestured with his hands a bit. “Go in the water?” 

“I’m not sure. The last I heard from him was that he was going to the lake. He wasn’t in his cabin, either.” 

Y/N wasn’t going to tell her best friends that they never actually went to the Hecate cabin, and instead asked one of Minghao’s bunk mates if they had seen him. The Hecate cabin freaked Y/N out. 

“He can’t be too far, and I doubt he would willingly get in the water knowing the rumors. Maybe he’ll show up again at dinner tonight?” Seokmin suggested. 

Yeah. Maybe.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊* *＊✿❀○❀✿＊* *＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Later, the three friends, along with their recent Capture the Flag winner, Seungcheol, son of Ares, God of War, walked to the dining pavilion. Seungcheol was a good friend to the group, usually acting as a strong father figure to the others, but definitely wasn’t afraid to let loose, something that his father clearly lacked in. 

Being the worry wart she was, Y/N, of course, asked Seungcheol if he had seen her boyfriend. 

“I saw him yesterday around,” he looked up as if he was rolling his eyes. “Noon? Maybe one?” 

Y/N sighed. “I just hope nothing happened to him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Don’t worry---it’s Hao, he can get himself out of everything.” 

Minghao didn’t come to dinner, and that’s when Y/N started to freak out.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊* *＊✿❀○❀✿＊* *＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Minghao was a wonderful boyfriend, that was obvious. Of course, it was even more obvious to Seokmin, Mingyu and Seungcheol, as well as Y/N’s other two friends, Hansol and Chan, when Minghao came up to them a couple of days previous to his “disappearance”. 

“Guys, could you help me with something? And not tell Y/N about it?” Minghao pulled his capture-the-flag teammates to the side and pulled off his helmet. Looking around, he made sure nobody else was hiding around them to get them out of the game. 

“You want us to keep a secret from Y/N?” Seungcheol sighed. “Whatever it is, it’s a bad idea.” 

Seokmin and Mingyu, ever the worried friends, quickly agreed with Seungcheol. 

“No, no, no,” Minghao started. “Hear me out before you say no.” 

“Well, get on with it then.”

“I want to set up a date with Y/N. I know that she hasn't been having a good past few weeks and I want to make her feel better.” 

Seokmin nodded. “And what do you plan on doing for her?”

“Well,” Minghao moved his sword from his right hand to his left. “I want to set up a picnic in the strawberry fields, but I don’t want Y/N to try and find me. Would you be able to keep my whereabouts a secret after I see her tomorrow?” 

Hansol, who was silent up until now, spoke up. “I’m down, just don’t send her after us. I don’t want to get beat for lying to her.” 

Chan quickly nodded his head --- it looked painful to Minghao. “I second that, have you ever been hit by Y/N? It hurts!” 

“I guess I agree,” Seungcheol said after patting Chan on the shoulder. “Just don’t come up with a lie that gets us into trouble.”

“Why did he think it was a good idea for his excuse to be the lake? That might just have been the stupidest thing that has ever come out of Minghao’s mouth.” 

Seokmin quickly agreed with Hansol’s statement. “Yeah, seriously. I’m almost worried that Y/N will throw herself into the lake in order to find him.” 

The two, who were sitting out front of the Demeter cabin, waiting for Junhui to come out, complained. 

“I certainly would have to agree,” Junhui scared the two as he opened the door to his cabin as quietly as he could. 

“Jeez Junnie! A little warning would be nice.” Seokmin put his hand on his chest. 

Junhui laughed. “By the way, Seokkie, you shouldn’t have to worry too much. Y/N is supposed to be led to the strawberry fields soon anyway.” 

“Who is taking her there again?” Hansol looked at Junhui who still stood behind the two. 

“I think it’s Jeonghan. You know how much Y/N trusts every word out of his mouth.” 

Seokmin scoffed. “Yeah, he’s the first person whose words I would believe without a second thought."

As Seokmin said that, Joshua and Seungcheol walked over to join the group, their sword fighting practice having ended just minutes before. 

“Hey Shua, Cheol, how was practice?” Hansol asked the two oldest. 

“It was good,” Joshua started. “I’m not sure how I feel about Chan asking if he could join us. You know how competitive he is, and with Cheol there, I got scared.” 

Junhui smiled. “Ah, Chan, he’s always so excited to learn and improve.” 

“Yeah, but it’s better when he’s getting his ass kicked by Y/N rather than Cheol. Even if he loses to Y/N, she still goes easy on him. Cheol just goes all out.” 

“Hey! You know I wouldn’t hurt Chan!” Seungcheol smacked Joshua’s right shoulder. “But speaking of Y/N, she’s being led by Jeonghan out to the fields right now.”

“Why are we going this way? I thought you were taking me to the lake so I could look for Minghao?” 

“Just---hang on, okay? I want to show you something, it’ll be really quick and then we can look by the lake again.” 

Y/N sighed in defeat and let herself be dragged by Jeonghan across the camp to the strawberry fields. 

“Why are we here? It’s starting to get dark.” 

“Well, look at the field.” 

As Jeonghan said that, Y/N turned towards the fields, and there stood her boyfriend, flowers in his hand and a picnic blanket at his feet in between the rows of strawberry bushes. The sunset behind him made the sight even more ethereal. 

Covering her mouth with her hand, Y/N gasped. “No…” She looked to the side to see Jeonghan’s reaction, only to see the tree that he was leaning against seconds ago. 

“Minghao? What…is this?” Y/N walked through the little paths, avoiding stepping on the bushes, and stopped in front of her boyfriend. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” He handed the bouquet of flowers over to Y/N. “I know you’ve been struggling with training for your quest and being head counselor. I just wanted to do something nice for you before you stress yourself out too much.” 

Wiping the tears off her face with her left hand, Y/N used her right hand to smack her boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“What the fuck Minghao! How could you do this to me! I thought you died!” 

Minghao backed away from Y/N to avoid getting smacked again, all while holding his now-stinging shoulder. “Why would I have died?” 

“I was told, by your asshole friends, that you went to the lake! Alone! At night!”

“...So they’re my asshole friends now?” Minghao laughed. 

“Yes, they’re your friends! They lied to me! For two days! Friends don't lie!” 

“Awe, babe,” Minghao pulled Y/N to him in a hug. “You know I wouldn’t leave you out of the blue like that. I will always come back to you.”

The following day, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from walking into the amphitheater where Seungcheol and Chan were swordfighting, the rest of the others watching diligently on the sidelines. 

“You!” Y/N yelled, holding her sword up, the point facing Seungcheol, who was disarmed quickly after Y/N caught him off guard. “Why did you convince them to lie to me!” 

“Ha, you see, Y/N-” 

Seungcheol bolted out of the amphitheater as fast as he could, Y/N on his tail.

The others, who were still sitting on the bleachers, looked over at Chan, who just shrugged and picked up Seungcheol’s sword. 

“She requested revenge,” Minghao said from his spot by the door that Y/N and Seungcheol had just ran through. “I promise it wasn’t my idea.” 

Seokmin leaned over to whisper in Hansol’s ear, “Okay, I lied. Minghao’s the last person whose words I would believe without question.”

[timeloop-angel]

I'm reading the novel version of "I Raised My Fiancé with Money" and the bad thing is....

I sympathize a lot with Stella. And she isn't even that horribly awful. Annoying, spoiled, and without remorse, yes, but not irredeemable evil or even a villain. If it was just that, it would be whatever, but the fact that the narrative (more specifically, the protagonist's narration) always talks about her as some great villain just makes me go ???? And takes out my immersion

Tbh it's clear as day that its Lilia's biases and if it only was that would be whatever and just another nice thing to analyze BUT it's clear as daytime that the author is trying to justify it. Correct if I'm wrong, but my experience in reading OI speaks that this is the type of story to degrade other female leads to raise the MC in a narrativic standpoint.

And like. Stella is such a villainess material??? I mean, if you read her story you woud expect her to be the og villainess who has her body snatched or the protagonist who regress after failling into ruin.

Not only that, i think the author is missing the pontetial to write her as a well written antagonist by (seemingly) going down to the cliched route of "hysterical and stupid woman who is sooooo jealousy of the protagonist and fight for men"

Thing is, if the villanization of her character was focoused on her stalking the ML or anything else that is actually harmful i wouldn't mind at all, but im on ch 64 and it's jarring seeing the protagonist (who i generally like btw) acting as she is being super badass for scamming Stella and with a tone of superiority when its completely unnecessary??? Like gurl you didn't even needed to go to that party. The only reason you went there was bc you wanted to see Stella making a fool of herself for buying flowers from you. And like. I understand that someone trying to copy you is annoying and all but does that really calls for scamming???

If she did that to call out on her stalking/actual shitty behavior i would be pretty on board but idk feeling jealousy and coping somebody isn't that big of a crime, its annoying but bearable and ignorable.

Maybe im wrong and the novel will take a complete different path but like, instead of this wouldn't it be way more interesting if Stella was actually a well devolved character who instead of being constantly villanizate by the narrative, was portrayed as a victim of her environment and society which then made her do some shitty stuff but also fuck she's still young and has inferiority complex and body image issues

^like!!! How do you expect me to not like her???? Maybe this part eas just portrayed differently in the novel, but after reading a sympathetic portray of the antagonist, i dont understand why the narration is harsh towards her when it comes to her inferiority complex towards Lilia. Although it's not thrown at our faces compared to other novels, it still pretty much there

^ and why dont the author or the protagonist focous more on the fact that she was stalking/harassing the ML just for his position and felt no remorse? That's pretty fucking awful and more important than focousing on how pathetic and stupid she is for trying to cope the protagonist

And ik this is biased asf but a lot of my sympathy comes from the fact that this novel is almost the perfect "standard og novel" story. The only big change is that the ML is a sweetie

As i said, Stella looks a lot like those og villainess and the fact that our mc "stole" her Fiancé. Stelle was just harassing the ML but also the fact that she *was* getting engaged to him and it was pretty much official and everyone knew abt it, im not lying when i saying i pity the fact that she will get scorned by everyone. Not that i think the ML should've get engaged with her, actually i cheered when the engagement was broken off since Nobody should marry a stalker due to their abusive mother, that much is obvious. But it still oddly fun/interesting that if she take out that context, Stella could easily become an unfortunate villainess from random OI number 19282928

And its pretty hard to believe that the author isnt aware of that when its the biggest trope of the genre. SO AGAIN!!!! Why make her seem pathetic for having an inferiority complex/body image issues when you have this big gold chance of writing a paralleled character to the protagonist, who is a well rounded and sympathetic antagonist and the perfect character to play with the change of perspective/meta elements that is a big staple of the genre you're writing in?????

Anyways i love her <333 my fave <333 my meow meow whos fucking awful <3333 also fuck those nobles she was so pretty when she was fat

Also this equally relevant but i think she and lalia should fuck and they would be in this weird and awkward polycue with ML since Stella used to harassed him <3

I want put the three of them in a room and make the most awkward moment in history where they, but especially Stella would rather die than to talk about their feelings <3

[ikram1909]

Laporta tries to push Félix because he is a Mendes client and also he is desperate for a "superstar" and idk who brainwashed him but he firmly believes that Félix can be the one, what could confirm this if he gives the number 10 to him whivh hoestly wants me to kill myself. He is so brainwashed that he interfers to the coach's job, its obvious that xavi is fed uo w Félix bullshit but laporta obligates him to make him play. I hate the fact that Félix is so comfortable to shade atletico and talk so comfortably about staying in barca bc he knows his ass is staying bc laporta is in love w him

Like, rma is getting mbappe and he feels like he has to fight that but instead of realizing that we got pedri gavi and lamine, he will splash money to a nobody and prob haaland in the future😭😭😭😭 what is worse is that he is genuinely embarrassing with the mbappe thing, remember when he said in an interview that at least mbappe would destabilize their lockeroom? Zero shame

A "superstar" but Gavi and Pedri are still the ones selling the most shirts and bringing in the most attention and that's while Gavi has been injured for 5 months now 😭😭 like maybe instead of looking to buy a superstar (which never ends well for us anyway) just market the stars you have already their potential is literally limitless and their star power is off charts they even have more and followers than him 😭😭 honestly, I think he's an idiot and needs to get his head out of his ass and above all stfu and stop doing interviews 😒😒 no president yaps as much as he does and it's never anything helpful. That part about mbappe and the dressing room was embarrassing like girl you're not a twitter user you're the president if FC Barcelona please shut up 😭 😭 😭😭

[heartbrake-hotel]

Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:

Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.

At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.

And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.

aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,

(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))

also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏

far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).

right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check

for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏

if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring

kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.

colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me

but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing

coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.

colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !

and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business

just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]

he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.

he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.

the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers

his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.

he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.

when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.

he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.

the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?

they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !

he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.

he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.

the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.

and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.

he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.

the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.

the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...

when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.

he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.

of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.

if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.

the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...

it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.

colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.

elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.

she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.

surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.

he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.

when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...

...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.

thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.

the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.

of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.

vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.

if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.

elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.

and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.

things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.

he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.

this is where the reader steps in !!!

you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that

but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.

tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.

you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.

you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.

eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.

elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...

ah. there it is

you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?

that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?

you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.

you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo

you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.

the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.

he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.

as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.

"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"

when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.

meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.

you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.

elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.

"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.

"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.

"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"

"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol

you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.

he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"

you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."

and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?

but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.

"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.

as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"

you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move

"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually

the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.

"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."

your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3

you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.

but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.

he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere

he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."

he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."

over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.

"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.

at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.

"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"

the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.

his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.

his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.

"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.

"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.

he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."

"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.

"let's get to it."

[zeenbean]

yapping about school, again

a lot as happened since my last ranty post, like that i have gotten B on my final grade from english(as a secondary language) but nobody really follows this blog so much so they would actually know what am i talking about.

in multiple posts ive been whining about my secondary laungage english teacher bcs shes dumb af and doesnt even know english past average 9yo vocabulary(except the slang💀) so when i use my fancy fancy worlds on her(telling her that taking drgs is NOT silly) she ofc gets mad. and that is, how she made my final grade from exact 9 marks from the second semester. 2 of them were group activities(two A`s), 5 quick tests(one A, one B& three Ds) and the rest unit reviews(one A and one B, but the b was my falut bcs im not gonna remember in front of what words u put the, a or nothing. but that were the weird ones like i dunno i cant remember bcs the only ones i remember are the ones that are obvious ones help) im a person who to function needs to have EVERYTHING planned. also when the teachers are all extremely chaotic i cant focus when i have to sit in place where i dont normally sit(i sit there for four years there, last place on the left but idk how other classrooms are build so it differs) its even worse. like this btch will be like so okey i know i said were gonna write the test tomorrow but i dont feel like it so were gonna do it today and than theres me who had planned to study today afternoon bcs it works for this types of tests best for me, also i had to practice on my saxophone yesterday bcs i ALSO had some MORE IMPORTANT EXAMS so now the whole thing is messed up & i have the saxophone exam today but im gonna be stressed form this test and it will completely ruin my day and maybe even a week.

im gonna browse more on the school system in hour school bcs its really messed up. like i wanted to transfer for this year but some therapist-not-therapist who is payed by the school told my mum that that is a not good idea bcs "every school has its dark side" yes. i know. but i asked my friend a simple question. "do your teacher provide materials from the lessons ex. presentations" and she was like EVERY TEACHER DOES THAT. HEAVEN ON EARTH.

like yeah only three from 20+ teachers does that in our school. and were really small school, only one building, the friends school has SIX.

it kinda is related to this and its really me problem but i struggle to keep writing notes in class. like one time i couldnt even get myself to hold the pencil bcs i had a bit dirty notebook(my bottle cracked and everything got wet and as it dried i had stains. so i couldnt write notes in the name notebook but i didnt wanted to buy a new one so i just wrote it who knows where and i was always loosing it. but i feel that the whole idea of notes doest suit me and some other people. i can pay attention, can write it dow beautifully like when i want to i can have the best looking notes in class but WHAT FOR. like it genuinely doesnt help me a bit. i can rewrite it like with the blurting technique but i still forget everything the next hour. and that isnt even with notes, thats with textbooks, some like non fiction books(i love books about like space or sum but i remember shit. like i can remember that on the page five there was this "in some insignificant galaxy(milky way) in some insignificant arm of the galaxy(orion arm)(btw i had to search it up bcs i dont know the exact term in english and it hurts my soul that there in the recommended questions there was "are we in the milky way rn)were rotating around some insignificant star(the sun) and living on some insignificant planet(the earth)" but i dont remember ANYTHING ELSE. LIKE THIS RANDOM THING BUT NOT THE REST OF THE A LOT MORE SIGNIFICANT THINGS?(if anyone recognizes the quote pls don judge me im halp asleep)

okey im not gonna get mad by my inability to absorb information

than when the teacher doesnt even want to help me by giving me like the presentation or like the book where they take these exercises from than its har to be motivated to learn and like in some cases even not able to properly learn the things. i have a friend(that one who i asked about her school) who i literally wish i had her brain bcs were on about the same level of inteligence but she can absorb information like a average human being. like pls help me.

but back to the teacher, there is this one who is really weird, he doesnt really like me but when you email him about anything related to geography he will explain, give sources and you can always ask for like a graded presentation(kinda rare there for someone to give you request presentation). thank you for being the most insufferable person on the whole school but who somehow does his job.

i shouldn't even talk about our principal who is like the embodiment of satan and god of gaslighting in one if someone like that exists. bro will be like "were the BEST school in town!" and than hires a known person who hase fake degrees and has been accused of being predatory towards students. like bro pick i side.(fun fact i one time i got so mad that i went to his facebook under a fake name and started to like spit some real good arguments under his homophobic and transphobic posts and one time i got extra silly and made a bit personal joke and he blocked me💔)

like im so so so much sorry for his ELEVEN FREAKING KIDS and especially the girls bcs he said(in a very insignificant physics lesson) that theyre mistakes. bro how can you be so fucking disgusting towards your own children that you sometimes even bring to school. in front of the whole class.

hey so this is probably it bcs im getting more and more tired and tomorrow i have to wake up really early

also i know my spelling here is completely diabolical but who cares int the internet does anybody here seen th post about how bad english technically doesnt exist? think of that now

[thenextcelestialchapter]

so lol lemme go ahead tell y'all NOT to do what the ppl at the hospital I went to today did:

I went in due to shortness of breath due to covid. I figured I needed an inhaler to get me thru it but of course the hospital wanted to do some extra tests to make sure my heart was okay too. Fine. They want me to do an EKG. Fine. The wanted a male nurse to be the one to stick whatever those thingies are all over my chest and tummy, which needs me to lift my shirt. Not fine, which should have been obvious. You'd think due to the nature of what had to be done they'd assign me a female from the get-go but being GNC myself I am unfortunately used to being passed off to brutish men just bc of how I look. Besides the fact that it was early and I forgot to wear a bra, I already have history at the hospital of the male nurses being way WAY rougher with sensitive areas than they need to be. So, I "requested" a female nurse to do this part.

To his credit, this particular male nurse did nothing wrong. All he did was tell the female nurse (didn't see this tho only heard it bc I was blocked off) what I had requested, no complaining from him about it. But the female nurse then in turn decided it would be a good idea to respond, "Awww poor her." In the most obviously sarcastic/patronizing tone... Literally treating me like a child.

So IDK if the same nurse that came to work on me said it, but her response makes me think so. When she was nearly done I simply mentioned, "Yanno I heard whoever said that 'Aww poor her' thing and I can't help but feel it was unnecessary and rude..."

She proceeds to spout off, obviously mad, "Well you know you're not the only patient we have, and you took me away from MY patient." It was literally first thing in the morning and they barely had anyone else like pffft... When she said that I made it very clear, "Hon as soon as I requested this, I BECAME YOUR PATIENT TOO."

I informed her charge nurse, but this hospital has a wide known history in this town of being horrible to people, nobody is ever surprised by anything they hear and always have a horror story about the place themselves... -_-

So, to be clear, regardless of if it is your personal opinion or not that there are no differences between the sexes and that we should all just be comfortable with being naked around each other, if a patient at a hospital doesn't want sensitive parts of their body touched by a particular person, MAYBE DON'T BE A DBAG AND JUST RESPECT IT THE SAME WAY YOU'D UNQUESTIONINGLY RESPECT PRONOUNS.

[brittapcrrys]

this post just making me think abt something for, like, the 10th time today....

this got so fucking long ahhh i am just. justifying all this to myself as im unpacking where the feeings are coming from jsdfkhs glad i have a psych session next week, guess i know what we're gonna talk abt!!

i was rly generally frustrated this afternoon and got a message to pop around for last minute planning for the help/work im doing for mum's friend for the next few weeks. and like yeah i know that it is generally within my range of abilities, i know that most times i help 'em out like this it's Fine and occasionally even Fun, i know that if im Not Well or anything else i can text and say look can't do it today sorry and that'll be accepted!!!

but. whenever i am asked to Do these things (dog sit / dog walk / plant-sit&garden, etc) for "neighbours" and friends there's like......... they KNOW im unemployed and they KNOW i've done it before so there's this feeling of an unspoken expectation that i WILL say yes, i will agree to do it when and as asked.

and ig to some extent it's reasonable for any of them to think 'she's been happy to do it before so there's good odds she'll probably, hopefully, do it again!' and they're never DEMANDING abt it or anything so maybe it is, at least coming from the 'employer' in each case, mostly just ~in my head~ n something i'm seeing/feeling/projecting that's not Actually in there

but idk when i HAVE had jobs in the past (waitress, cleaner, babysitter, tutor, library assistant) if i got ~called in~ the day before i uhhhh could say no. and would say no. and i didn't feel bad abt it i didn't care like i had a (casual, but pre-planned) roster and i've been fortunate enough that saying 'no, i can't' didn't lose me those scheduled shifts or the job as a whole, i know that. but bc this isn't an ~official~ job there's no structure it's just a 'get a text 1wk-to-12hrs before, help a neighbour, get twenty bucks' kinda deal each time it feels like i HAVE TO say yes. if i don't have some other thing already planned, i have to say Yeah Sure or im evil and horrible and the worst and should be ashamed

excepttttttttt i think. a lot of that. comes from my mum lmao always a fun connection to make. bc i made some exasperated comment mostly to myself during that frustrated moment this afternoon and she was like "well what do you mean? why can't you do it? why would you say no? did you WANT to say no? it's not like you have much else going on... it's not even hard why wuold---" etc etc and dad isn't quite so expressive, ever, but less and less so as the PD continues to wear away at him & his speech in more obvious ways, but has similar sentiments. and like.... just bc THEY can't/won't say no to stuff doesn't mean i shouldn't????? mum will say she needs a week to herself and then 10minutes later has agreed to be a TRT (substitute teacher) for 3.5days that week. dad just thinks 'you do a job until it's done. you get asked to do a job, you do that til it's done' and like let's not even THINK abt the way that has worn each of them down physically and emotionally at different times, including now. like they just view Work and the related Expectations/Obligations differently, i guess? whether that's a generational thing, a ND (me) vs NT thing, a 'farmer and air force electrician' and 'lifelong teacher' and 'we both moved out at 16/17 and supported ourselves from that point on / u can't get something from nothing' thing. i have forgotten where this was going jfc

anyway. the dog will be a lil moody if i don't visit her for a couple hours & go for a walk, but she'll be fine. the plants can be watered by someone else, or - esp in the current weather - just miss a day, they'll bounce back later. me doing these things when asked is not, like, the key to holding the fabric of the universe together. nobody's life is gonna come apart at the seams bc i said 'oh, sorry, i won't be able to d that today/this week'.

and i shouldn't actually have to explain why! maybe i have a migraine and can't stand up straight. maybe i'm having a gastrointestinal Hell Episode. maybe i threw up overnight and am still very distressed abt it. maybe i haven't slept in 48hrs. maybe it's windy and im teetering on the verge of a panic attack and rly cannot be outside in it. maybe it's PMDD time and i know i don't have the patience to interact with another being especially not in a way where im solely responsible for it. maybe im bleeding heavily and cramping to the extreme on and off without warning. maybe i haven't been able to get out of bed all week because i just dont want to exist. MAYBE i just! don't! wanna!

and idt it's fair that anyone says or acts in a way that suggests im doing something Very Wrong or Shameful or Disappointing (there's a difference between, 'oh, that's disappointing, but thanks for letting me know' disappointment & 'why would you do that? what are you thinking?' disappointment, which is the kind i mean). is it gonna be fine most times if i agree to it even when i don't rly want to? yes. it's always mostly fine-ish. it's nto abt avoiding it out of anxiety or whatever like im not nervous abt walking this mini daschund that adores me. im not nervous abt watering plants that are essentially the same as my own at home. it's just, like, weighing up 'would doing this likely improve my mood/day? will it probably just be a non-impact kinda deal? what are the odds it makes me / my day worse?' each time (knowing when my psych appts are, when my period is and general mood shifts during my cycle, how my sleep and mood have been in the day/s before the 'shift', weather, etc etc etc) and determining which is likely to be the most effective and useful (or neutral, sometimes) option for me in that case!

and if that reason is just 'ehhh i really just Dont Want It today/tomorrow' that is also fine, actually

[abcdosaka]

so I went to talk to this pm (the one who cried) yesterday about the project that should’ve been wrapped up like 3 months ago. and she was telling me we should’ve done this instead of what you have and that’s like another idk 3-4 hours of work for me bc that is a totally different assumption than what we went with in the first place and honestly I feel like we’re over complicating it. Like I get why we should because we should try to be as accurate as possible but it’s like this project will never end I needed it to be over like a month ago. Why are we still working on this.

Anyway this week has also been kinda busy like I feel a lot of pressure to get shit done for another project bc that’s been delayed for a while (let’s call it project b) and a third project that we want to have done in may and I’m taking a week off in may and that’s gonna cause delays I just know it. and at the same time, the government of my previous province still hasn’t sent my my fucking abstract yet and I haven’t received my new license yet either because nobody seems to understand how to address mail to my mailbox or maybe the mail carriers are just idiots who don’t know how to deliver mail and it’s been like 2 fucking months like holy shit just give me a fucking refund at this point why do I have to spend hundreds of dollars to do this necessary thing and they don’t even do the fucking work.

so when she was telling me all this she was like we really should have this done end of week and I was like honestly I can’t do it this week but I couldn’t even bring myself to explain that I need to work on project b that was supposed to be done last year and I’ve had to push it off so much thanks to the pm that I hate (see above post). and idk everything was just becoming so much that I started getting really emotional like I’ve been on off crying in the bathroom at work all week just bc I’m like wtf am I doing with my life why am I stressing myself out like this. so I left like “ok I’m gonna go to my desk and work on this ��� and like my lip was trembling it was so obvious I’m gonna start crying. She was really nice about it like she decided that we don’t need to include those parts in the report and I can just do it later and we were talking in the bathroom after and she said a lot of supportive stuff to me in the bathroom and it was nice to feel like someone cared. But that took like 30 minutes and I couldn’t really get a word out but that’s not fair to her like it’s not like I would’ve said anything to her thats like work appropriate like this is shit I should be talking to a therapist about. I’m still kinda embarrassed but idk she cried first so it’s fine lmao

then today I was in the lunchroom eating with another eit who honestly troubles me. Because he seems really caring but he’s always fucking asking the same 3 questions like how’s the car search going, are you doing okay, how’s x project and it drives me completely nuts. Bc it’s not like there’s any updates, are you even listening when I talk why keep asking me these questions when I’ve already told you?? Especially the are you okay stuff. He’s pushing me to open up and then I do and it’s like he doesn’t even listen he just provides the most shitty basic life advice like “put yourself out there” like NO SHIT???? he thinks I’m like a fresh 18 year old who never lived away from my family like bitch my family is literally homophobic and broken as hell I’ve basically never had mental support from them since idk never. Like he just assumes that I love them and want to see them and it just drives me nuts bc why do I need to tell you that’s not the case? Why are you acting like any of this is your business? And I’m not kidding he really does ask the same questions all the time even stuff that doesn’t have a variable answer bc he just doesn’t retain anything

it just feels like nobody listens when I talk. I honestly don’t believe there’s something wrong with me either like I realize my communication skills could be improved but ppl are just yapping all the fucking time.

I’m also annoyed with this city bc it’s hard to get around and there’s literally no nightlife or queer scene and kinda petty but ppl are obsessed with hockey here like I miss how at least my old city was like people did not care if you didn’t care about sports like everyone can kinda be their own individual without ppl shoving their interests down your throat

i was taking a #nervous pee today and when i was in the stall one of my pm’s came in and she was crying. i tried my best to cheer her up but idk if i did a good job lol i hope i did but i can be so awkward when it comes to that also she’s kinda like my boss so it’s a bit weird. anyway it also activated my #empath sensibilities and i’ve been on my period this week so i felt kinda emotional and then i got chewed out by another pm for spending too much time on a task but that was gonna happen no matter what bc this guy isn’t satisfied w anything i do and also idk anything and now i’m emotional again. anyway it’s fine bc actually i was the one who went to talk to him so i’m proud of myself for having the courage to do that even though i low key hate him so much.

i’m taking a week off in may no matter what.

[wickedpact]

It's my first day of period and I'm feeling light-headed/woozy. So instead of being productive, I'm thinking of Joe-and-Nicky. Mainly, their sleeping position lol. In thimking about when/how they got to and agreement to sleep in that position ie Joe Big spoon and nicky lil spoon/knife... Is it because a)they just really like it or b)they got killed many times (>>> #times they killed each other) if they slept differently c)some other dumb reason or d) a combination of all of the above. Kthnxbye

[PUTS ON READING GLASSES] [CRACKS KNUCKLES]

listen im ALWAYS thinking about the snuggles. ALWAYS. 24/7 snuggles zone in my brain

bc like????? its spooning???? and they do it every night?? even when theyre sleeping on the train?? full body 100% contact cuddle-snuggles, all night every night??? (excluding probable nights where they dont snuggle/snuggle otherwise)

look, theyre in JEANS and joe’s got a leg between nicky’s, you cant tell me that thats actually comfortable irl, and yet there they are, full cuddles, legs tangled, while wearing jeans. theyre cuddling Experts

(which also raises the side note that like. as far as varying cuddling positions go, spooning is rather high-risk for awkward boner situations. like whats joe supposed to do in that situation. book and nile and andy are Right There its not like he can actually do anything about it. does the rectory have a bathroom. anyways.)

despite all the obvious drawbacks, This is how they sleep. This is how they choose to sleep every night of their 900 year lives. This is what they find comfiest. its just [chefs kiss]

LOOMK AT THEM

now i have so many thoughts re: How Is Started bc like...... how Did it start tho.

Thoughts:

1. i know that Ye Olde Toxic Masculinity looked a bit different in the 1000s, and i.... think i read somewhere on tunglr that it was considered ‘normal’ around the time for dudes to snuggle but dont take my word on that. so i like the idea that it started with them just. platonically snuggling In The Way That Dudefriends Just Do and it kind of snowballed from there

[♪ 2 dudes, cuddling on a sleeping mat, 0 feet apart bc theyre gay but neither of them have actually told the other and they both think their feelings are unrequited ♪]

2. alternatively ik it can get pretty damn cold in desert-y areas at night so. cuddling for warmth............................................................ ‘platonically’

3.

nicky: how come every time we go to bed we start out back-to-back and we wake up spooning? this is ridiculous

joe, who has nightmares in the middle of the night and keeps waking up scared and wanting to Hold something: haha yeah weird

4. you ever think abt how when nicky just broadcasts I Want To Be Held vibes

idk the man hugs like this

and smth abt him in this scene just broadcasts ‘wanna be held’ vibes 2 me. idk. maybe i just wanna hold him

but you know that meme/joke thats like ‘punch me in the face’ ‘you want me to punch you in the face?’ ‘thats what i said!’ ‘yeah but thats what i usually hear when you speak, its just normally subtext’  ?

That, but with ‘i want you to hold me’ instead of ‘i want you to punch me’ & with joe and nicky

5. nicky getting killed in some particularly gruesome way and afterwards joe is like 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and cant sleep bc hes Worried and nicky is like ‘..do you want to just sleep over here with m--’ and joe practically breaks an ankle trying to scramble over asap

6. ‘theres only one bed’ but theyre both such sweethearts they both INSIST the other take the bed, so in an attempt to out-stubborn the other, they both end up sleeping on the floor (and also somehow end up cuddling by morning)

7. joe and nicky fall asleep facing each other Once and it ends with the two of them skewered on the same bandit’s sword and unable to pull it out and after nicky is just like [breathes in] Next Time We’re Both Facing The Same Direction

8. joe and nicky being separated in the night somehow (maybe nicky woke up and wandered off and got jumped for whatever reason?) and joe being like ‘[rolls up sleeves] NOBODY CAN TAKE NICKY AWAY IF I WRAP ALL OF MY LIMBS AROUND HIM AND HOLD ON ALL NIGHT LONG’ and weirdly enough, hey it works