#wrote this with tears in my eyes

[raileurta]

When people talk about the pain of a relationship between a basically immortal transformer and a very mortal human who lives only one of their Cybertronian's years (Vorn: 83 years) I am reminded of the sorta real world example of this.

Pet rats on average tend to live 2-3 years and people will still care for them despite their extremely short life span. This is absolutely heartbreaking for owners as a lot of them see their rats or people just in general, see pets as their children/family. They can care for them to the best of their ability but they still die so soon. They can even can get sick or have a accident cutting their life span even shorter.

There's this sort of guilt that must come with it; feeling inadequate as you "failed" this being relied solely on you. Why are they dying so soon? Why couldn't I be better? Is this my fault? You can't really change nature but you can look at it from a different perspective. (Cheesey I know)

While for Cybertronians humans are just a blip for them for these people bots are there for their entire lifespan. The transformer will be a constant throughout it all and be with their person until the bitter end. They will never know a life outside of their love; The metal hands that cradle them in their own form of softness. The breeze as they feel as they sit on their shoulder. Even in the face of knowing this organic will never always be there to ride in their alt mode, scamper over their frame, or just by their side. They will still be with them; this is a privilege and a burden they must carry within their sparks.

You might find that a human can change a bot's entire perspective on life and even the world itself; because they live so short everyday is a precious one. They must make the most of the time you have left. It can't be wasted in entropy, just slugging through it. This would be a dishonor to their human and a dishonor to themselves.

Which in that case I feel the inevitable heartbreak is well worth it for the bot in the end. They just can be there, and that's the greatest gift of them all.

[ddodol]

i love riize dearly and i adore the loving side of this fandom more than anything. i've been a sungtaro stan since nct, crushing on eunseok since his sm rookies era, witness the addition of wonbin, sohee, and anton, and i've seen seunghan grow from being a shy kid into an important member of his own group. those were genuinely the happiest moments for me and i'm sure a lot of people share the same even if they haven't been around for as long as others have.

it baffles me to think that there are people out there that call themselves a briize but would push a member of riize to the point of leaving. in the end, all seunghan thought about was the group and the fans. he didn't want to cause harm, even though he never did anything that warrants this kind of reaction

i respect seunghan's decision because i would never dare put him in that awful situation ever again. he deserves better than this. the treatment he's received is worse than any criminal that has walked through the streets ever has. kbriizes truly don't deserve the group that they stan and they never will.

i love riize, i truly do, but i can't stomach being in this fandom. i want to continue writing for them and i'm sure i'll be fine in a few days,, but this is taking a lot out of me.

i hope everyone prioritizes their health above anything else, take a break and step away if needed. i'll try to be present in case anyone wants to rant <3 until then, i will be waiting for the day when i can freely laugh and enjoy riize as six.

[blubvish]

A Stars Sorrow

These gnarly snarling emotions

Twist the knife deeper in my back

The scars you left me

Shine in moonlight

[obsessive-evie]

you’re pretty is all

pairing: Kate Martin + fem!oc

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, explicit language

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on.

You see, we have recently discovered that Kate cannot handle praise. At. All.

It happened one day on accident, I was just going to one of her games like normal, a pretty rough game against South Carolina I must admit, but Iowa pulled through, Kate being the highest scorer instead of Caitlin for once. She had jogged over to where I was leaning against the walls of the stadium bleachers, a wide smile on her face the moment she noticed where I was. She had barely finished talking to the media, still dodging reporters with cameras on her way over to me.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her head of course, standing on my tiptoes to kiss the side of her head. Her head was buried in my neck, her heavy breathing and warm body pressed against my own. “You did so good baby, oh my god,” I said in her ear before pulling away, my hands still on her neck. Her face now held a different kind of look in her eye. What once was pink from the exertion of the game was now speckled darker with with red, her eyes holding a look of almost uncertainty in them. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but nothing comes out.

She looks bashful, almost shocked, as she keeps trying to form words through her smile. A few laughs escape instead, so she breaks eye contact, and pulls me back into her arms, hiding her face in my neck.

I don’t bring it up until later, taking it as she was just overwhelmed in the post-win high.

But the more I thought about it, the more my brain needed to know why she looked so, flustered? Now I had had my theories about her liking praise, the few times I was more in control featuring a heavy adoration note, and less than a possessive or rough route, but I wanted to test my theory.

“I’m serious i’m so proud of you Kate, you played so well,” I say in the passenger seat of her car as she drives us back to her apartment, her hand in mine on the center console. We’re stopped at a long red, the large Iowa intersections taking far too long in any other circumstance, but i’m thankful for it now as I get to watch her head duck down in an attempt at hiding while a large smile plays on her face, one she’s clearly trying to hide. Her face flushes red again, and that’s when I knew I was on the right track.

Throughout the course of the next few days, I continued to shower my girlfriend with excess praise and compliments, relishing in every blush, smile, giggle, and hidden face. Everything from playing with her freshly washed hair while we talked about the game later that night, making her shift herself from laying on my chest to her kissing my neck to hide her red face when I started to delve into her high score. Not just that, but when she aced a math test a few days later, I went above and beyond in telling her how proud I was (she ended up telling me to shut up with a red face and half hidden smile, her large hand coming to cover half of her face).

The first time I called her pretty girl, I knew damn well what I was doing.

I was sitting on the bathroom counter as she curled her hair, just admiring her beauty and features. She was focused on not burning herself, but when she put the iron down and caught my eyes, she smiled, a puzzled look on her face. “What?” she asked while moving closer, her hands coming to my thighs, rubbing up and down my leggings as she laughed slightly. I shook my head, not wanting to admit anything yet, so naturally she moved closer, leaning into my personal space.

I shake my head while laughing, moving myself to kiss her lips with smiles on our faces. I break the gentle kiss to say, “My pretty girl.” Her reaction is immediate, her face flushes pink high on her cheekbones and ears, she tries to hold back an even larger smile which causes her nose to twitch slightly too. My hands cradle her jaw on each side before she plants her forehead on my chest, me sitting on the counter being one of the few positions she can do so.

I can feel her breathing slightly pick up, making me laugh again. She shakes her head in my chest with a small groan before picking it up, and moving back over to where she was standing, holding back a smile and a red face.

So it does work.

My plan was to see how long it would take for her to crack, or melt, either one worked for me. So when the day came where I was fed up with her being so stupidly strong willed, I decided to bombard her all day long.

I kissed every inch of her face when we woke up that morning, telling her how beautiful she is, even throwing in a my beautiful girl before getting out of bed to shower (she asked to join, but I don’t think I could handle seeing her naked and not get on my knees, which would ruin my whole plan).

I even hyped her up a little more the usual when we got ready to go out to dinner. When I would usually just call her my hot girlfriend and poke her biceps or abs, I made show of saying how good she looked, even throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure to get that pretty blush I adored. Now don’t get me wrong, she did look damn good, but it was a little exaggerated when she walked out in a gray tank and jeans, her hair up in a high ponytail with a dusting of makeup on her face highlighting her natural features.

I got the blush that I wanted, as well as an eye roll as she deflected by kissing me on the lips.

It was only after we had a few drinks at a nice italian restaurant that she even acknowledged my praises.

I had called her “so fuckin pretty” after taking some photos of her at our secluded table, to which she responded, “I can’t with you, you know that?” with an eye roll. “I just love my incredibly hot girlfriend, and I wanna tell her, what’s so wrong with that?” I replied. She just shook her head and said, “You’re so down bad for me.” Of course I nodded my head enthusiastically and took more photos.

By the time we were home on the couch, still in our going out clothes and makeup, I was determined to make her crack.

I was seated straddling her lap, her hands unbashfully on my ass and hips (a personal fav of hers as she put it), while mine were moving between her jaw and neck, not deciding which one I liked better. My tongue was in her mouth when my hand just barely squeezed her neck, not choking or anything, but enough for her to moan out in surprise. She pulled away for air, her face flushed and lips bitten a dark shade of pink. God she really was pretty.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered before going back in for more kisses. Her hands now gripped my hips harder, pulling me down onto her thigh, causing pleasure to shoot up into me. She did it again at the same time she pushed her thigh up, the thought of the strong muscle beneath me only adding to my pleasure. This time i’m the one that pulls away to say, “God you’re so good to me, you’re so fucking pretty baby,” while smiling. Hopefully this is the fatal blow that will make her crack.

I’m right.

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on. Her bright blue-green eyes plead up at me, coercing my body and soul into her. I stay quiet, hoping to urge her to fill the silence. “I mean it, you have no idea what that does to me I-,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, breaking our eye contact, “I can’t, just-“ I cut her desperate words off with a kiss, needing to feel those pretty lips on mine again. She kisses me back with fervor, gripping my ass and hip impossibly tighter, her hands almost painfully doing so.

Our lips continue to move with a melting passion, each of us letting out occasional moans as we move closer and closer to the fires burning bright in our cores. I break the kiss and a string of warm spit still keeps us connected. I move to kiss her cheek gently, the restraint and stark contrast from the aggressive kissing almost making me shake. Kissing softly down her jawline, stopping just above her ear to whisper, “My pretty baby,” the hand that was resting on her neck squeezing slightly.

Now being possessive wasn’t particularly new for us, Kate liked to show me off and I the same, but we were never directly possessive. So i I guess it caught her off guard when I accentuated the my part.

“Oh my god,” she half says half whines as I smirk, continuing my pursuit of kisses down her neck and onto her exposed collarbones. I manage to get her tank top off, so of course she had to even the score and get me out of my shirt (it was bunched up around my bra anyways). Kissing down her chest, removing the clasp of her bra one handed, pulling her ripped jeans down, those were all easy. But resisting the urge to abandon my teasing and fuck her senseless once I got her in just her underwear was not easy. At all.

I too was stripped down to my shorts and lacy black bralette, my mouth still slowly trailing down her body, gently kissing and biting. My hands explored her hips and thighs the lower I got, the sucking on her chest and nipples making the strong muscles twitch slightly. Every time I pulled away from her warm body to breathe or look at her, I let out a string of praises or minor possessiveness.

The lower I got, the more she squirmed at my words. What would’ve probably only made her blush before this is now making her pant. For example, “God you’re so good baby,” made her let out a particularly desperate moan, her hand coming to the back of my head as I sucked on her nipple.

Something I did know about Kate however, is that she got particularly embarrassed when I went down on her. She had a habit of covering her face with her hands, a pillow, or biting her lips to hold back the moans that only urged me on. She also had a habit of closing her eyes or looking away, especially the more orgasms I gave her, because she had a tendency to cry.

The first time I made her cry in bed, I panicked, thinking something was wrong. It was after a particularly hard loss, a tiring and brutal game against LSU, and I decided she could use an orgasm or two after that. By the time I was getting her closer and closer to her third, I thought that I was crazy when I caught a glimpse of shiny eyes before she covered them with the crook of her elbow again. Amping her up for her fourth however, was when I was for sure that her moans were turning into almost sobs. My heart dropped, thinking I had taken it too far. Of course I immediately removed my head from her pussy and cradled her face with my hands, trying to remove her own from her face.

All I had received in return was a rushed out explanation, “No, no, please don’t stop I’m fine I swear just-“ she had said before I cut her off. “Baby you’re crying you’re clearly not fine what’s wrong was it too much? I’m sorry love I-“ this time it was my turn to be cut off.

“No, no this just happens ok I’m fine just I swear to god if you don’t make me cum these tears will be for real,” she choked out, the waterworks of frustration starting back up again. I had kissed her salty lips quickly before giving her a fourth orgasm, watching as the tears flowed freely once I had held her hand down on her hip. Back then I had watched in awe as her pretty face was streaked with tear tracks, trying to test my luck with a fifth orgasm right after her fourth. Unfortunately her sobs became mumbled words of, “No I can’t i c-can’t too much I can’t please I can’t,” while pushing my head away from her dripping cunt.

Now I’m determined to see those rare tears again.

Hopefully my teasing combined with her newfound appreciation for praise would be enough.

I stand corrected.

After sucking on her thighs for too long, Kate had relented and quietly asked me to touch her. I had removed her soaked panties slowly, kissing every inch of her legs they went down. This is when she would typically look away or look for a pillow to hide in, but thanks to our position on our barren couch, she had no choice but to look at me as I made contact with her wet pussy.

I started out slow by circling her clit and pushing a single finger into her, crooking it slightly. “Keep your eyes on me pretty girl,” I said, making her move her hand from shaking by her thigh to holding the back of my head, keeping my tongue on her as she whines.

Throwing out other praises and you’re so pretty darling, or, you look so fucking good like this, so wet baby made Kate only moan and whine louder, her hand coming to cover her mouth. I get minutes into pumping two fingers into her before I notice she’s gone muffled, so I take her hand away from her mouth by her wrist, and hold it onto the couch with my thumb on her pulse point gently.

“C’mon baby let me hear you, I know you can do it,” I say, watching as she tries to keep quiet by biting her lip, tears beginning to form in her eyes. I decide to push her further.

At the same time I curl my fingers up into her g spot, I suck on her clit hard, all while simultaneously pushing on her lower stomach. This makes her let out a loud and whiny moan, stirring things inside me when she tightens her hold on my hair. The tears begin to flow now, almost making me let up on my assault. Almost.

I keep alternating between sucking on her clit and pushing on her stomach, my fingers keeping pace inside her. “Oh my god,” she panted out, the telltale signs of my girlfriend’s incoming orgasm starting as her breathing picks up. I keep going, never relenting, even when her strong hips try to lift up off the couch, forcing me to wrap my arms around her hips and thighs, pinning her in place.

I take a small breather to say, “you’re close baby, I know it, why don’t you cum for me yeah? god you’re doing so well love.” She throws her head back and whines, a high and needy thing that makes me speed up my hand, even though my wrist is starting to cramp.

Her breathing deepens, sobs worsen, thick hot tears rolling down her cheeks as her strong thighs clamp around my head. Pushing on her lower stomach always seems to do the trick, something about external g spot stimulation? Either way, she’s coming on my tongue with my name in her mouth, combined with many other things I can’t hear because of her thighs over my ears.

Her whole body shakes and twitches, her hips lifting in an arch, her hand holds my hair almost painfully tight to her cunt, not like I was leaving anyways. Her heavy breathing doesn’t slow as I push through what I think is the longest orgasm I’ve ever given her. And trust me, giving head was considered one of my special skills. Wonder if I could put THAT on a job resume?

I slow my fingers inside of her, as well as the lapping of my tongue when I think i’ve stretched that out as long as I could. Her eyes are closed now, breathing slowing, her thighs loosened around my head, allowing me to pull away for air. I slowly remove my fingers from her cunt, causing her hips to twitch again, making me laugh. I suck her excess slick off my fingers, relishing in the way she tastes. Maybe I’m smug, but the fucked out look on my girlfriend’s face as she opens her eyes is totally deserving of a mini victory lap.

I stand up from my position on the floor, my knees cracking on the way up from the way I was kneeling. I kiss my way up her hips and stomach gently, small pecks up her warm body, making my way to her face. The tear stained face I kiss every inch of, something I had started after the first time she cried, a mix of guilt and tenderness I felt for her compelling me to do so. When I finally reach her lips, I swipe my thumb under her eyes, cleaning off any more salty tears or cum. Unfortunately for Kate, going from eating pussy to kissing cheeks means mixing of bodily fluids.

A self confident smile on my face, I kiss my girl on the lips finally, her once limp mouth curving up into a small smile. I pull away, taking in her disbelieving expression. “Where the hell did that come from?” she asks, shaking her head slightly against my lips. “You’re pretty,” is all I say in response.

[itsnobodysproblem]

(The Sing of Four p10 spoilers)

So we got a newsletter (written by Mariana) on Patreon

And. These two parts...

And

Yeah...

Just thought I'd leave these here

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

oh my god

i just finished 52. I need 3-5 business days to recover. possibly more.

[definitelynotshouting]

“The universe sings,” Grian said.

He sounds vaguely distant- like he’s speaking from hundreds of blocks away rather than right next to Mumbo.

He turns on his bed, slow halting movements, to face him.

“Did you know?”

Mumbo can only stare.

“…Sings?” He asks. He shifts on his chair.

Grian seems to want to nod, but aborts the motion halfway, and hums instead.

“Yeah. The code. It sings, if you listen close enough,” Grian mumbles.

Mumbo opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Grian exhales a long breath, and his eyes drift close.

“Can you hear it?”

Mumbo watches the way Grian’s chest rises and falls, shallowly, slowly.

He closes his eyes, and strains to hear.

He hears- Tango out in another room of the house, pacing circles around the kitchen. Mumbo can tell it’s Tango by the shuffle in his walk.

He can hear birds outside, twittering. Wind rustling through branches. An animal- a pig, maybe, trotting along some grass.

It’s quite calming really- but he doesn’t hear singing. At least, he doesn’t think he does?

When he opens his eyes again, it’s to Grian staring right at him.

Mumbo exhales in one sharp breath- he didn’t realise he’d stopped breathing- and meets Grian’s gaze.

“Did you mean like, actual singing or- or was that metaphorical? Because I can’t hear anything other than trees, mate,” he says, only half-joking.

Grian huffs a small laugh, and shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s not really singing-singing. It’s music, though. You’ve definitely heard some of it- discs. That’s the easiest way to hear it. But that’s- so few of what’s out there. There’s more music, if you know how to listen for it,” he hums. His eyes close again, and he leans more into the mattress.

Mumbo pauses, and thinks on that for a moment. Music discs, huh? He supposes it seems plausible, that there’d be more music out there.

But then why has he never heard it? Mumbo doesn’t ever recall hearing ‘the code sing’. If it’s tied into music discs, then is it naturally generated? Is hearing it a ‘watcher thing’?

Mumbo glances down at his hands, traces lines of dirt under his fingernails.

He nods, though Grian can’t see it anyway. He makes some vague ‘see you later’ comment he can’t bother to think about, and carefully gets to his feet.

At the doorframe, he peers back.

Grian lies there, breathing steadily.

Mumbo turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

////

headcanon that the minecraft soundtrack can be heard in the code, but only if you're 'in harmony' with it. cue other headcanon of watchers being very aware of the code

HEY ANON. ANON. I ADORE THIS HOLY SHIT I FUCKING LOVE THIS HEADCANON???? The idea that the universe is constantly singing to itself, and you can hear that through the Greater Code if you really carefully listen, is something i lowkey want to canonize SO BADLY holy shit. And this is such a lovely snippet too, im always such a sucker for deeply layered conversations like this.... i adore how youve given so much depth to the sentence "the universe sings" and the implications of how and why Grian is hearing it so much right now. [THROWS UP BLOOD] IM OBSESSED.......

Also this Mumbo dialogue especially is on point youve done such a good job of capturing his little speech patterns :] STUNNING JOB ANON IM SO FLATTERED U WROTE THIS!!!!! I really think i might canonize this concept just for how absolutely amazing it is, im utterly obsessed with it

[hammill-goes-fogwalking]

I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI.

[icantdothistodaybruh]

Was thinking about organizing all merch I've gathered over the year for a loooong time, and finally got myself a day to do so... AND i'M SO HAPPY WITH IT AJJDFSKOASAKS CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF IT

Most of it is from the ones of my favorite artists - висит груша and Forte.khom, some stuff is my own, the rest was gifted to me by friends (I love u all beyond any comprehension) Will be hanging this beauty right on top of this little exhibition💅💅💅

[ishootthelightsout]

i had an emotional breakdown today and after it I see Daniel Suárez posted this on twitter❤️

[thekidsarentalright]

hey guys did u know that crowds are won and lost and won again but our hearts beat for the diehards 🥹

[the-halfling-prince]

Love listening to Pod Meets World and they'll be talking about the Virna situation and Will is always the one to point out "oh yeah and also she TOOK HIS HOUSE" If Virna Hunter has two haters it's me and Will Freidle I guess

[thespacebetweenworlds]

mood: rereading my old fanfic just to feel something

[hecula-propaganda]

@alzenidkk's lovely art inspired me ❤️

Slightly NSFW, sorry (I'm not lol)

~

The warmth of a human was incomparable to the molten sweetness of their blood flowing down one's throat. That, every vampire could agree with - except for Dracula, who was no mere vampire, who only existed to drain humans of their life. Recently, he had come to find the taste of human blood revolting, as revolting as the pigs containing it: why would he feed on the creatures who took his Lisa from him?

No, he craved warmth. He craved heat, a solid body to hold, flesh to pierce and to caress, soft lips crashing on his own, the bliss of being worshipped and worship.

Dracula craved his Hector, sweeter than any blood.

The boy was singing in his ear, mad with pleasure as their bodies joined. His Adam's apple quivered with every scream, surrounded by bleeding marks that Dracula couldn't resist licking - ah, his blood was different, diluted by Dracula's magic flowing into him and the curse that fated him to his side. He didn't thrust, as he has no intention of harming his boy... He was doing a great job by himself, lifting his hips and slamming them against Dracula's in the most exquisite dance.

"My Lord! Please! I'm close!"

"Let go, precious," he purred to Hector's flushed ear, voice steady against his breathless one. "Soil me. I know you yearn it."

And he did. How Dracula adored him when he let himself go, when he bared his whole soul to him, only him; when his body tensed and trembled and clenched around Dracula, part of him, staining him with his most delectable sin. It was enough to make Dracula lose all reason: he marked the boy himself, by sinking his fangs inside his supple flesh and filling him. An exchange of heat and pleasure and adoration, as the two could not be torn apart.

Ah, but he was delicious, heady like the most prestigious wine. It was with great pain that Dracula had to remind himself to not drain the boy. He had no need: his life was already his, after all.

Hector, the poor boy, collapsed the moment Dracula let his throat go. He nestled himself in the crook of Dracula's neck, nose and mouth pressed where blood would flow in his veins were he alive.

"Hmph, you act like a vampire youngling, sometimes," Dracula mused, not strong enough to resist the temptation of carding his claws through Hector's damp hair. He relished in the small shiver of the boy at having his scalp scratched.

"What do you mean, my Lord?"

"It's as if you mean to bite me. Vampire children seek the blood of their sires."

"I want to bite you."

At that outrageous confession, Hector lifted his head, to meet Dracula's eyes - which, he could tell, went wide in surprise. His own, however, were lit by euphoria in the dark pits of lust. "But I know you wouldn't feel anything, my Lord. I wish I could show you..."

Oh, the boy was drunk with pleasure. He was speaking nonsense. No human could ever be allowed to bite a vampire; not only Dracula's skin was too tough for human teeth to mark, but the mere notion of being marked! Offering his very life!

"Hmm."

And yet.

Dracula allowed his boy to nuzzle against his cheek. Perhaps one day. One day, he will feed his precious his own blood, he will allow his teeth to clamp around his throat. And then, not even God would dare to put himself between them.

In the meantime, as Hector's lips left kisses more searing than any bite, enough to make the old vampire sigh in pleasure and love, perhaps the notion of being marked by his boy did not sound too unappealing...

[machiavelli]

the only thing I would really love to change about myself is my ability to console people. I know many would say that being there, holding them, crying with them is enough. but I just wish I knew what to say, I knew a way of actually making them feel better. I never know how to react when people say the worst thing that has happened to them. and there is not a completely right, clear and universal path for consoling people, but I just wish I knew how to be good enough in those situations.

[boxeom]

My adoration for him is so obvious even all these years later I'm gonna be sick. Like y'all don't understand how serious this was. He's one of my favorite fictional characters ever. I was SEVENTEEN WHEN I WROTE THIS.