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gumycandyyy · 7 months

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OKAY IM FEELING BRAVE N NOT GOING ANON SO HI!!!

I love your writing n I was wondering if i could request a WK x Gn! Reader where the reader is like crashed into a cave or smthn, wk goes to investigate and they find the reader that (size wise) is like HUGE, like 16 feet tall!! BUT. once they see wk they shrink down to around his size, n they talk n find out they’re from like a diff planet in their universe?! N they can’t get back.

(idk where this idea came from I apologize:3)

୨♡ Ｙｏｕ＇ｒｅＳｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ，Ａｒｅｎ＇ｔｙｏｕ？" ♡୧

I love this idea! I think I'm gonna combine it with another ask i got.

(For those wondering why the gumlee fanart tag is here, it's because I put some of my art at the end of every fic. It just happens to be gumlee this time)

Gender neutral reader

Romantic

Type: Headcanons

Request: Yup! They're back open, too!

Some descriptions of the reader, nothing detailed, just dragon stuff.

Summary: Being a space dragon is cool. Except for when you're too tired to leave a planet.. Thankfully, you have help from a new friend.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

-You're a space being.

-A celestial dragon, if you will.

-You're quite a majestic being, even having some of your own constellations named after you.

-Perks of being a beautiful immortal creature.

-While you're practically immortal, you can get tired, especially after traversing through the cosmos.

-So every so often, you gracefully land on a habitable planet, to regain your strength for a few days.

-You more or less crash landed on this one.

-It was called Ooo, if you recall correctly. You're sometimes allowed to name a few planets or stars, but this one has existed for longer than you have.

-It's a little embarrassing to be taking refuge in such an old planet.

-However, you had the funniest encounter while on Ooo.

-It was little more than twenty minutes after you crash landed in an icy forest.

-You had knocked down quite a few trees and stirred up quite the commotion in a town nearby, as they could see you flying in from the atmosphere.

-You were trying to take a few splinters out in your dragon form when you met...

-Him.

-It sounded so cheesy, but you had never seen a more beautiful thing in the universe.

-Safe to say you were floored.

-Literally.

-He and a few... What looked to be scouts and knights made of ice neared you cautiously.

-He seemed to recognize you, which was a little strange. You guessed there were history books of some sort written about you.

-He introduced himself as the Winter King, and welcomed you to Ooo.

-Yes, he had definitely heard of you.

-You decided to shift into your smaller form. It was still ethereal and god-like, but it was easier on the eyes than being a twenty-foot tall dragon.

-You kept your wings and horns, just parts of yourself that you thought to be enchanting.

-the Winter King spoke to you, a little shocked at your sudden shift. You were wearing clothes, what other mortal customs had you missed?

"Well, *ahem* it is my honor to meet a celestial being such as yourself! If I may ask, why choose this planet?"

-You explained that it was the nearest habitable planet, and that it didn't matter too much.

-You didn't think too highly of yourself, as you were quite low on the god-scale. Only a minor universal god, instead of being a multiversal god.

-If that made any sense.

-You politely asked Winter King if you could regain your strength in his kingdom.

"Oh, why of course! A- anything for someone such as yourself!" -His pale blue skin flushed in a pinkish tone, and his voice faltered ever so slightly.

-You tended to have that effect on people.

-However, he seemed to be handling your presence quite well, so part of you wondered if he were somewhat immortal, or was just a magic user in general.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

-You stayed for a little less than two weeks, learning quite a bit as you took refuge.

-You were quite uneducated when it came to planets like Ooo, embarrassingly so, at times.

-But it felt nice to have Winter King explain things to you.

-He seemed so respectful, yet so interested in everything you did or said.

-It turned out he was an astronomy nerd, and stories of you were his favorite.

-He wrote down practically everything you said, but as time went on, it seemed less like worship and more like interactions between friends.

-You preferred it that way, to be honest.

-You learned not only much about Ooo, but also much about the Winter Kingdom as well.

-Whenever it snowed softly, you would always spend time outside, sometimes dragging Winter along with you.

-You did everything from nap, to play in the snow.

-It seemed childish, but the two of you had quite a bit of fun.

-Not to mention the food there was absolutely phenomenal.

-You swore that you would return the generous favor of the Winter King.

-When it eventually came time for you to leave the planet, the both of you were quite sad.

-However, you knew if you stayed longer, you'd never leave. And that wasn't good.

-You were out on the terrace, having said your goodbyes to Winter and the citizens, ready to shift to your ethereal form to take flight.

-However, you felt something nagging at you to stay for a few more moments.

-You were correct to wait.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Winter called your name, looking to have run all the way up here. He placed his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths.

"Winter..? I thought you already said goodbye?" Winter cleared his throat and stood up, placing his hands behind his back. He'd regained his composure so quickly it was shocking. He cleared his throat once again.

"It just occurred to me that I never asked for that return favor.." You brought your hand up to your lips, ashamed you forgot your promise.

"I- Oh my word, I apologize. I forgot."

Winter assured you that it was no big deal, and that his favor was only a small one. He stepped towards you, almost shyly.

"Well, rest assured, I can do almost anything. There is a grey area in which I'm unable to give, but otherwise, I will do anything in my power to grant you what you seek."

Winter blushed, his gaze transfixed on the ground. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Your large wings twitched, and after a few moments, Winter seemed to have figured out what he wanted.

"If it's not too much to ask, I'd like to request..."

He looked up at you with the sweetest of smiles.

"A kiss."

You were taken aback for just a moment, but regained your composure as quickly as you lost it. You took a step towards Winter, returning his warm smile.

"Well, if that's all you seek, I would be more than happy to give you what you so desire."

Winter shifted in place with an almost giddy expression, and looking up at you, you could tell he had wanted this for quite some time.

You'd be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about it prior to today.

"I would much appreciate that."

He said simply. So making sure not to waste any more of your time, you bent down to Winter's height. Despite being in your smaller form, you were still quite a bit taller than anyone else.

You caught his lips in yours, holding the embrace for a few moments. His lips felt cold, and it was all you could have hoped for.

When you separated, you gently held his face in your clawed hands.

"I have truly cherished this time with you, and I wish I could have stayed longer. However, my higher duties must not be ignored."

Winter nodded in understanding, placing his small hand atop yours.

"I promise I will think of you often, and will call on you if I'm ever passing through this side of your galaxy. That I will swear." "But until then, my dear."

The only thing Winter could remember of that moment, was the feeling of your lips in his forehead, and the silhouette of your ethereal form, fading out of the atmosphere.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

your complimentary art ^^ (gumlee edition!!)

Sorry bout the whole hiatus thing, I had been sobbing for two hours straight. Anyway, rq's are open!

reblogs >>> likes

#winter king x reader #the winter king #winter king #fionna and cake #fionna and cake x reader #gumlee fanart #fanart #fandom #fanfic #selfshipping community #winter king x female reader #winter king x male reader #winter king x gn reader #winter king x oc #he's so babygirl #adventure time #adventure time x reader

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yuyanwrites · 9 months

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The fights along the way

A/n: I said I was going to write fanfocs that weren't hoyoverse related on this blog but I never actually posted any of my drafts so here's a quick drabble. I might editthis in the morning cause I'm tired. 😓

Pairing: Fengqing x gn!reader

Tags: reader prefers alone time over comfort, arguing (mu Qing and reader, Fengqing arguing if you squint), fluffy ending, (Y/C/N) = (Your courtesy name), reader cries when arguing, hurt/comfort

"What?" Feng Xin asked, his mouth agape.

"(Y/C/N) and general Xuan zhen are arguing at general Xuan Shen's palace," the junior official repeated, shuffling their feet on the spot.

It was common to hear Feng Xin and my Qing arguing. It happens almost everyday and if not, every other day. They'd try to beat each other up and no one batted an eye. Well, except you of course. You didn't want either of them to get hurt.

A crowd was forming outside of Mu qing's palace as shouts echoed from deep inside the halls.

Whispers could be heard amongst the crowd.

"No way, general Xuan Zhen and (Y/C/N) are arguing?"

"Do you think they'll get into a first fight?"

"No, no way. Maybe if it was general Xuan Zhen and Nan yang fighting but it's (Y/N/C)...surely he wouldn't hit them." Heavenly officials sure do love to gossip, huh?

Feng Xin shoved the crowd, making a path to the entrance of the palace where the screaming got clearer.

"Everyone leave!" Feng Xin shouted and despite the two of you hearing Feng Xin, neither of you backed down.

Soon, crowds dispersed and a junior official lead Feng Xin to the garden behind the golden palace.

"I don't understand! What's wrong with helping king with her paperwork?!" you screamed, throat going sore as small tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes.

"How could you not possibly understand! Are you an idiot?" Mu Qing screamed back, his own voice becoming hoarse. "You've been so caught up with someone else's job that you don't even have time for anything else! are you even taking care of yourself?!"

"Ok? And what's wrong with helping someone, huh?!"

"The problem is you don't have enough time for anything else!"

"I don't understand! I like helping people so it doesn't matter and I'm still making sure I eat correctly and I-" You hicupped. Streams of tears ran down your cheeks, collecting in a little drop at a bottom before falling to its inevitable demise.

However, Mu Qing didn't flinch, didn't say another word, didn't try to comfort you or even reach you. Just stood there silently as you started crying. Small sobs rattled your ribs and you started to furiously wiping away your tears. "I just don't understand..."

"(Name)..." a voice called out. Heavy footsteps strides towards you as strong arms tried to wrap around your waist but you backed away. "(Name)?"

"Not now Xin-er," you said between shaky breaths. Mu Qing studied you carefully and pursed his lips, the first he clenched so tight before, relaxing and unraveling.

Yet again, you dodged one of Feng xin's attempts at comforting you and ran out of the palace, back to your own. You just needed some time to think.

Worried eyes watched you before hardening slightly when meeting Mu qing's. "Now, why would you argue with (name), look what happened," Feng xin said rather softly compared to his expression.

"Well, I don't know! Feng xin we didn't see them for a year because they were too busy helping someone or whatever," Mu qing said, growing quieter with each word.

"Qing-er..." Feng xin said, embracing Mu qing who resisted at first but gave in. "Just give them some time, they'll come around."

Waking up alone in your cold empty bed when you usually had you lovers with you was something you had grown used to in the past year, being busy with ling Wen's paperwork on-top of your own duties.

You got to work, quickly getting ready for the day and leaving to go to your office when you say something while you passed the dining table. You went a few steps back before turning to face the basket of fruit on your dining table and a near letter, sealed with a golden wax stamp.

"It was left outside this morning," one of your junior officials who happens to be passing spoke up.

"Thank you," you muttered, opening the letter and reading it. A soft smile graced your lips as you read the name that the letter signed off with. "Idiot."

Soft footsteps approached quickly, the jogging pace, breaking into a run as the two men, Mu qing and Feng xin who were standing by Mu qing's desk, got tackled in a hug.

"You know if you missed me, you could've said so," you whispered but they could hear you as clear as day.

"Sorry," Mu qing whispered back.

"I love you," you whispered, grinning.

"We...love you too," Mu qing whispered bsck, a blush forming in his cheeks as the three of you stayed in each other's embrace.

"Yeah we all love each other but why are we whispering," Feng xin whispered, a genuinely confused expression in his face. Mu qing rolled his eyes while you started laughing. Feng xin just looked between the two of you before saying,"What...? What did I say wrong?"

#mu qing x reader #tgcf #tgcf x reader #feng xin x reader #fengqing #fengqing x reader #mu qing #feng xin #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #tgcf fluff #tgcf angst #heaven official's blessing #gn!reader

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thenbecauseggoes · 9 months

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Right Here

A/N: Hi guys!! I'm so sorry that this is like hella short I just wanted to get it out!!!! Lmk if you wanna be tagged in a future fic and my requests are open for a bunch of characters (i'll prob make a masterlist of who i'll write for) also lmk if u want me to make an ao3! ok love u!

Warnings: drug use, alcohol use, mention of hooking up, parties

genre: fluff :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had never really been the type for love. Sure there were guys here and there who you were considered to be with but you never really enjoyed being tied down or the label of “girlfriend” that was just another label to make women belong to men. Something you’re not huge on. However, all women also have needs. Which is how you found yourself in this situation, at some douchebag’s house with hazy vision and a rolled up dollar bill in your hand. Now this isn’t your first time doing coke but with the man next to you. That was different.

You had been known not to really make friends but Hobie was sort of an exception. You met him after going to one of his gigs with your sister, he eyed you down the whole time and when you met up after the show you had clicked so well that you just decided to have him as a friend.

The night came to a close and you left the house, bidding goodbye to the group you were talking to as Hobie slung his arm around your drunken form. You stumble a bit walking out of the house and Hobie catches you. “Be careful there luv, wouldn’ want you gettin’ hurt now hm?” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I handled myself for long enough Hobie I think I can do it now” you say, trying to defend yourself. He just shrugs and you guys keep walking. To the naked eye people might think that you guys are a couple with his arm around your shoulder like that. So you shrug it off with a scoff and walk a few steps ahead of him.

“Gettin’ tired o’ me already luv?” he asks, taking a few long strides towards you, catching up quickly. Curse his long legs.

“No you just, look like my boyfriend when you walk with me like that” you say

“Anythin’ wrong w’that hm?” he leans up close to your ear and puts two of his hands on your shoulders, his tall frame towers over you. He takes a piece of your hair and twirls it in his fingers. It's so intimate that you almost forget you’re walking down a street. You shrug him off again and keep walking. “What’s it gonna take for you to love me?” you stop, realizing he stopped walking where you shrugged him off. You stop walking, your eyes widen, wondering if you heard him correctly. You turn around, hesitantly.

“What?” you ask, looking at him, feeling the most sober you had all night. Not even coke could cover this feeling.

“Why do you lead me on so much?” he asks, taking strides towards you. You back up slightly. His tall frame is more than slightly menacing, plus you’re scared of anyone on this street seeing you.

“Hobie please, wait for us to get back to our place” now that you think about it, you kind of have been leading him on. You have an apartment together but when you bought it was kind of a last resort. You had nowhere else to stay and he offered to pay for it as long as you guys stayed friends. You had been so lost in your train of thought that you hadn’t even heard Hobie calling your name.

“Ay!” he snaps in your face, looking you in the eyes “you hear what I said luv?” you shake your head. He grabs your shoulders and leans down. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. “Nevermind” he walks in front of you now. Leaving you to trail behind him

“Hobie!” you call out but his legs have already taken him far in front of you. you feel like shit. Were you really leading him on? You didn’t think so but maybe you were. If you’re being fair you’ve hooked up a few times but it was all initiated by him. I mean sure, you liked it but that was just because you were high or something. He was attractive but you didn’t care much for love. Was it possible to fall in love with someone when you have completely sworn off it? Your heartbeat quickens, you love Hobie. Maybe from the first day you met him. You had barely realized that you were now at your shared apartment. You walk inside and call out Hobie’s name.

“Since y’don’t think that you can lo’ me, i think i’m gonna see myself out” he says, packing some of his things in a duffle bag. You don’t have much stuff in here. “Sorry y/n, I really feel like I love you-” you cut him off with a kiss. This isn’t like your usual kiss, it's passionate and filled with love.

“No, I'm sorry Hobie” tears start to form in your eyes. “I never meant to lead you on, you know I have a hard time with love”

“So fall in lust w’me hm?” he questions as you smile and bury your head in his chest. Laying on his bed as he holds you close to him. You start to drift off to sleep and he caresses your hair. “Love you y/n” he whispers into your hair. Thinking you can’t hear it but you do and you let a small smile come to your face

#hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown smut #atsv hobie #spiderman #spider punk #Spotify

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not-goldy · 9 months

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Hey Goldy

Love your blog ♥️

About the recent Wlives from JK and how he is been so open and so honest with Army. He wants to talk to us. He wants to tell us things related to him and his life and whenever he does that this fandom becomes so weired. Why is everyone acting like they know JK better then JK himself? He literally said he is avoiding sensitive questions but he still choose to say "JeonJimin" Out loud. Korean or not everyone in this world knows if two names are put together its because people like them together and they ship them. Its not like JK is from some diff world. The whole bird app is full of people saying how bad it was for a fan to write JeonJimin in comments. And now the people of this fandom have become some saints overnight and are teaching people how to write comments and what to say and what not to say.

Where are these teachers and these saints when Tuktukkers make noise? - Oh they are nowhere to be found.

Everyone need to understand that it was JK who choose to say it out loud while he was avoiding sensitive questions or things to say. But he still choose to answer questions about Jimin and say his ship name outloud.

I am sorry Goldy i am all over the place but i wanted to rant so i came to u. I have so mych more to say but then it will look like an essay lol anywas i am waiting for your post about Wlives happened recently and what u think about where this all is going and why was JK so desperate that he begged Jimin for a Live together for literally almost 2 mins straight. He almost risked it all. That boy needs his Jiminshii..

Love you Goldy and Love your blog♥️ You are one of the reasons for me to stay in this fandom. Thank God there is someone who actually understands boys and is not afraid to express her thoughts. Reading ur blog makes me calm and gives my tired brain some good Jikook therapy. Thank You

They just tried to ride on the wave of chaos and vitriol to express thier bigotry, anti Jimin and anti jikook sentiments but none of that works on me I'm afraid. been in this for so long I see right through their bull and it don't phase me. Not at all. Lmho.

And I'm glad he said he ignores comments he finds sensitive because we've seen them do that time and again on their lives through their pained expressions when they come across comments that are so vile and so grotesque.

How many times have we seen the Fandom akekeke over him reading YOONMIN on live or Tae Kook and explaining to Tae that's their ship name as if he was hearing it for the first time?

Look at his face reading that. Sounds like he's in on the joke to me🤷🏾

It's okay if he calls other ship name but it's a problem when he calls his own ship name- what a bunch of losers these ppl are.

Then they want us to believe this man had no idea what the fuck he was reading on that screen as if his intelligence evaporates when ITS TIME FOR HIM TO READ Comments about his own ship. LIKE GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE

The most annoying part of it all is, sometimes these boys read ship names from comments deliberately for whatever reason. Sope do this, Jikook do this.

Some times they are happy to see fans show love to other members by asking of them in the comments especially when we all know those members are going through tough times. It's a two edged sword situation. Some times fans over do it sometimes it really show live and support and other times it's a cute way of bonding with them and having our own inside jokes and secrets etc- we just have to learn to READ THE ROOM AND NOT OVER DO IT YA KNOW.

I recall Jimin reading comments about Jungkook (this might have been at a time when Jungkook was being heavily censored as I theorized years ago) Jimin saying fans kept asking of Kook during his live pushed Hybe to produce Jungkook the next day on live which if I remember correctly was even on YouTube not weverse😆

The power play is real- not that they need it now because SOLO. But still. The fans, the platform form, the attention all of that gives them leverage and if you are going to tell him what do with his own platform then he might as well delete it like he deleted Instagram.

PEOPLE NEED TO STOP TELLING THESE MEN WHAT TO DO WITH THEIR LIVES AND HOW TO LIVE THEIR LIVES.

Respecting them is respecting their complexities as human beings as well and not always viewing them in two dimensional black and white way. They can enjoy the ships and the delulu and the inside jokes and mentioning other members during their lives and still be frustrated with it sometimes, overwhelmed, disrespected or annoyed with it because THEY ARE COMPLEX BEINGS.

Some times they are in a bad mood and are easily triggered, other times they just couldn't care less.

COMPLEX BEINGS.

Pretty you're alright. I'll read your essays anytime. And love you same

Now lemme push my Jimin agenda, you won't happen to be a Jm Stan would you cos I want you to listen to his letters live version at 0.41 and 0.55 whatever he's doing there has me in a trance😭😭😭😭😭😭

When I die sing it on my boat ride to purgatory 🤧

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alittlefrenchtree · 1 year

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I’M GOING TO SPOIL STUFF.

I’m also going to tag as best as I can but we never know if Tumblr is going to fuck things up and better safe than sorry so. In this post there are going to be:

Screenshots from the first dune part 2 trailer

Informations you get from the book, either in the first part or the second part.

Maybe informations from the Messiah book? Not sure.

If you’re not sure, better not read and quickly scroll. But if you don’t care and would like to see my endless rambling about the trailer, and if you haven’t read the book and would like a bit more detailed context about the Dune universe, sit down with me for a minute 💜

I'll never never never be tired of watching the desert shot by Denis. This is so smooth, so calming, so satisfying. My soul is happy 😌

This is the first shot of the trailer that made me go ohmygod. I'm not sure what's going on exactly in this scene but I find these few seconds SO POWERFUL for some reason. I'd wish Herbert would have done more with Lady Jessica in the whole story (even if her not being really present gives more room to other very interesting characters) but I can't wait to see Lady Jessica in this part 2. The glimpses we see in this trailer are exciting (to say the least).

When the talk was all about Florence vs Anya, I thought Anya was closer to what I had physically in mind for a character like Irulan. Seeing the trailer now, I think Florence's smartness, attitude and personality might be a very good thing for Irulan. Good move, Denis, good move.

I love this shot and I love it even more because it could look like something form The Messiah. Or even the Children. Incredible. I love that Timmy's account used it for promotion.

AH. That's where all the problem start. And the spoilers. I'm not sure what will be said in the movie so, maybe I'm not spoiling much but, still. Anyway.

If you don't know, this is Feyd-Reutha. He's the Harkonnen Baron's nephew and his heir. While Paul is the Baron's grand son. In the Bene Gesserit's plans, Paul was supposed to be a girl and marry Feyd. Their kid was supposed to be the Bene Gesserit's Kwisatz Haderach. As you must now from the first movie, all of this was fucked up because Lady Jessica gave Duke Leto the boy he wanted. In the book, Feyd is supposed to look a lot like Paul, to be a charismatic figure like him and everything. I'm not sure choosing to make Austin look like what they decided all the Harkonnens should look really serve this idea? I get that it's a good idea for cinema and a movie targeting the largest audience possible that Harkonnens all look similar so everybody can quickly understand the different sides, families and who's good and who's bad. (Truth is, everybody is bad in Dune. Except the mouse. The mouse can stay.) But, I also think that nothing looks more powerful and dangerous than a bad guy looking like a good guy (in narration standards). If I remember correctly, Feyd can be read as a bit of a mirror for Paul's character and I would have like to see a bit of this physically? I don't know. I want to be convinced because I am not really right now.

I love sci-fi and fantasy universes exactly for these aesthetics. Mysterious items. It fascinates me probably because I would have no idea about how to write these kind of things myself.

I clearly remember the moment I've read how Paul's skin was supposed to look like after 3 years living in the Arrakis' desert. And I remember thinking how the hell they're going to make this happened how Timmy's skin of all people. Like the guy would probably managed to burn in Glasgow so, I was doubtful. I still am since he still looks silky smooth for most of the trailer but i like the way his skin looks here. That being said, they seem to have made some kind of arrangement with the timeline of the story. I'll have more thoughts about it after seeing the movie.

It might be just me but this piece of scene didn't sound very clear to me, even with memories of the book. Like, we don't know what looks like a normal worm ride so, are we supposed to understand what's going on and what's fancy? Plus what Paul's doing doesn't look fancy at all, it looks more like he's struggling sooo? It's not smooth, but not fancy either, so idk. Unless they're is a meaning of fancy that I don't know of, i'm a bit confused by this part. But this,

this is genius. Perfect midway between admiration and fear. Exactly what is needed to look at Muad'Dib.

I wonder why some parts are in black and white. Seems a bit easy for a vision and wasn't used in the first movie so it would be odd but i have no other theory.

I'm a bit upset because if it's the scene I think it is, it was very different in my head. Maybe I don't remember correctly, but for me, in this scene Paul is talking to a couple of hundreds people top and is very close to them and for me it suits the Muad'Dib effect better? It's kind of hard to explain, especially in English, but for me, Muad'Dib doesn't really scream directly to thousands of people who can't barely see him to send them to war. I see him as a figure who will talk to the couple of hundreds people he's with and be so close to them you can see his reflection in their eyes. He's a legend in the sense of a belief. It's the idea of him, his words spreading from person to people and from people to person that make Muad'Dib who he is. I guess it would have been less impressive for a film like Dune but I was impatient to see this scene, a sort of prophetic version of his speech in the King, and now I'm not sure. I hope they did good but and that he's delivering his speech in a other scenery and then going there rather than having to shoot such a powerful moment in front of nothing and with no other possibility than to yell everything.

After thought was to wonder if Timmy learned to radiate such confidence (especially in the scene of the second screenshot) for Paul or if Paul taught him to feel confident. Life as an actor must be so so weird.

Long story short, I know the movie is going to be fantastic but I have just a few interrogations about how certain things look. And last but not least, the work that the music does for this movie is PHENOMENAL, even if it's nothing that we haven't read before. Hans is a genius, I'd offer him my first child without a second thought. (i don't have kids. I don't want kids, so it's a way of saying, chill out.)

#dune part 2 #dune #dune part 2 spoilers #dune part two #dune spoilers #IT'S DUNE SEASON MOTHERFUCKEEEEERS #can't fucking wait #timothée chalamet #denis villeneuve #paul atreides #paul muad'dib

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caspercryptid · 4 months

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hey i respect u a lot and i love it when ur an asshole but i just want u to know being an asshole to someone who thinks they r trying to help w the whole gpt thing doesnt make them not wanna use gpt it just makes them think the people who want them not to use it are assholes. like fuck gpt but the cake thing is p demeaning & just shuts out the ppl ur trying to advise into ur an asshole and im not listening land. not helping the anti ai movement, just making urself look mean about it yk

While I will fully acknowledge that the "I'm sorry my follower added that comment to your post" cake Is rude as shit, what's also rude as shit is reblogging a post about Chat GPT contributing to the death of creative expression with unasked for advice about using it to replace the work of copy editors instead, especially when that work actively continues to teach chat GPT more shit about how to steal and take work away from myself and people like me.

Perhaps I should have said that in the reblog but there is so little good faith discourse on this website that the one allowance I could make to good faith was not blocking immediately and bothering to respond at all. Bluntly, I'm fucking tired. I once had a harassment brigade against me because I posted a polite reminder that people with HP urls should change those. No matter how nice and polite I am people who want to misunderstand still will, and I didn't reply because I was doing praxis or trying to help the anti-ai movement— I replied because I was annoyed and upset! But maybe that's nihilistic and i shouldn't get jaded and assume everyone I disagree with is going to ignore everything I say and/or send me nasty grams, I'm just tired of writing out long-form thoughtful responses to people who aren't going to listen.

At the core of my irritation isn't actually the anti-ai argument at all— I think people should consider the intent of the OP and if their "advice" will be welcomed, even when the advice is genuine and well intentioned. It's like that post about wanting nice mugs and to own nice things that got brigaded with advice to go to a thrift store. The post is not asking where to find nice mugs. The OP of that post did not want advice on how to correctly use Chat GPT, and I did not reblog it for that.

Thank you for respecting me, even though I'm an asshole. I was a little harsh, but I feel very strongly about this and this is my life and career. I do a lot of slush pile reading and copy editing, and asking chat GPT to do rephrasings for you is the #1 tool of plagiarists. It's really disheartening to see it in my own online space— I could have been nicer about that, I just didn't have the bandwidth this morning to assume good faith.

#casper's haunted info tag #asks

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angstyaches · 1 year

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Hi! I just want to start off by saying I'm a really big fan of your writing. My fav is Charlie and Shayne 💜💜 Apologies in advance if I am not formatting this correctly. I'm not too familiar with Tumblr etiquette. This is my first ask! I would like to request a fluffy hunger/stomachache fic. The scenario I imagine is one of them is not taking care of themselves because of the demands of work/school. It's catching up with them via hunger pains. thank you for your consideration! -🦦💜

Thank you, lovely otter anon; this was a perfect request, and such a nice one to start off the new year. I hope I did it justice!

CW: prolonged hunger (unintentional), mention of food issues, stomach pain, stomach noises (onomatopoeic because I've been feeling it lately lol), brief embarrassment/flustering.

___

“I’m fed up of talking about college now,” Charlie sighed. “I want to know about you. How are you, lovely?”

Shrunk down to fit on a screen that Charlie could hold in the palm of his hand, Shayne seemed to be sitting at the desk in his bedroom at the Aldridges’, one side of his face lit more brightly than the other as the fading daylight drifted in through the net curtains. Charlie knew there were net curtains in Shayne’s room because he remembered thinking ‘who still puts up net curtains these days?’

“I’m okay,” Shayne said. “A bit tired after training with Ryan all week. Elliott’s not here and she’s taking all of her mentoring out on me.”

Charlie broke into a nervous half-smile and leaned back into his pillow. It was flat – standard issue for students who were availing of campus accommodation – and he kept meaning to steal a fluffier one from his parents’ house. His room was on the ground floor of the building, so in order to retain any amount of privacy from the outside, he had shut his curtains despite the early hour (oh, wait – maybe that was why people used net curtains?). The only light was from his desk lamp across the room, which made his face look a bit ominous on-screen.

The shadows seemed to elongate his weariness, carving it out of his pores and his cheekbones. He hoped the quality of the picture on Shayne's end was low-quality enough that he wouldn't notice.

“How long did you train for today?”

“I don’t know,” Shayne grumbled, pressing his fingers into his own shoulder as though working on a knot. “Like, a billion hours?”

“A billion hours, wow,” Charlie remarked. He licked his lips, guilt stirring in his gut as he prepared to ask; “Have you eaten today?”

Shayne made a slightly disgusted face, which Charlie luckily knew was only partly serious. He lowered his voice and his gaze, eyes landing anywhere but on the camera lens. “Yes, idiot.”

Charlie waited a second, just in case Shayne was planning on elaborating. It was never a good idea to push him for details, but on occasion, he offered them up freely.

“Sorry. I had to check.”

“It’s okay.”

The guilt still churned sickeningly in Charlie’s belly. He hated bringing up triggering topics and making his boyfriend uneasy – especially when he wasn’t actually there to try to comfort him – but tonight, the guilt was about more than that.

Charlie himself was struggling to think of a single time, in the past four days, where he’d sat down and had an actual meal.

Cookies and muffins were snatched up from the student union shop in between seminars; packets of crisps and jellies were slowly munched over the course of five-hour essay-writing marathons; the odd smoothie was slurped on during a lecture. The only hot form of sustenance – if you could even call it sustenance – he’d had was in the form of coffee. And the volume of coffee was an issue in itself, far exceeding the volume of water that had passed his lips that week.

Tonight was the first opportunity where he might have been able to put a frozen pizza in the oven, or boil some pasta, but even if Charlie hadn’t been too exhausted to stand in the kitchen that he shared with three other students he barely knew, he still wouldn’t have done it.

Because since early that afternoon, hours before he’d handed in his final assignment of the week, he’d had a horrible tummy ache.

Maybe it was the stress of the final weeks of the semester. Maybe it was the endless flow of coffee eating away at the lining of his stomach. Maybe it was both. Charlie didn’t know.

What he did know was that seeing Shayne’s face – even on his phone screen – made him feel marginally better. That was, at least, until he’d started questioning his poor boyfriend on his eating habits, like a hypocrite.

“What time are you going to your parents’ tomorrow?” Shayne asked, still not really letting his eyes focus on the camera. He was anxious to divert the conversation away from food, and Charlie was, too.

“I think I’m getting the train around ten past one. After my last seminar,” Charlie said. The pain in his belly swelled at the thought of spending the weekend and jumping into the following week without having seen Shayne at all. “Are you sure you can’t come? They’d love to see you. And obviously, I would, too.”

Shayne shook his head. “Sorry, love. Nancy is still saying it’s better for everyone if I keep laying low. You know, Ryan hasn’t even been taking me to the Green. We’ve been training in the basement.”

Charlie clicked his tongue and found his mouth and throat unexpectedly dry. Fear erupted at the core of his being, flickering nauseatingly, whenever he let his mind appreciate the fact that it was dangerous for Shayne to be without Nancy’s or Ryan’s protection. He couldn’t imagine how scary it must have been for Shayne to know that, too, and he immediately felt bad for trying to convince him to come out.

He eyed the bottle of water on his desk, which he’d purchased earlier in the week and then promptly forgot to avail of.

“Do say hi to them for me, though,” Shayne said, referring to Charlie’s parents.

“’Course I will.” Charlie heaved himself upright and slid to the edge of the mattress. God, his head felt heavy, and his cheek absolutely did not want to leave the pillow. He needed to grab that water, though. Maybe dehydration was also partly to blame for the dull, persistent spasms in his stomach.

He slumped back onto the bed, laying his phone down for a few seconds to unscrew the cap on his bottle. This left Shayne looking at the blank-white ceiling. Charlie took advantage of the few seconds of invisibility to rub his stomach, pressing his fingers deeply into his flesh. Hopefully, the firm, circular motion would relieve the pressure he could feeling building in his organs. If it was gas, or if something he’d snacked on was upsetting his belly, it was better to get things moving so the pain could fade.

As he took a drink, he could feel the room-temperature caress of the liquid trickling through his oesophagus and into his stomach. His belly let out a little glug, echoing the sound his throat made when he swallowed.

“Are you seeing Jonathan and Belle this weekend?” Shayne’s voice asked.

“I’m not sure, actually...” Charlie gasped and reached for his phone, his belly distress momentarily forgotten, brushed aside in a rush of excitement. “Oh – did I tell you that he and Nicole might be getting back together?”

“What – no?” Shayne exclaimed.

“Yeah! She’s going to be living at Jon’s three days a week for a while, just to see how it goes. Like a trial.”

“Fuck, Charlie, that’s so cool.” The softening look in Shayne’s eyes was palpable, even through the wall of pixels. That look made Charlie’s insides feel squishy. “I know you worry about Belle’s situation.”

“Yeah – I mean, I’m not saying non-conventional families can never work,” Charlie blurted out, not for the first time since he’d found out he had a niece. The rush of being able to tell Shayne the news about Jon and Nicole was quickly wearing off, and he felt his attention being drawn back to the ache in his stomach. At least he could continue rubbing it a bit while keeping his phone directed at his face and shoulders. “It’d just be nice to know that she’s always got two – ”

Grrllrrr.

“Um – two people around to depend on.” Charlie harshly cleared his throat. He felt the burbling of his stomach under his hand, through his hoodie. “And as – as much as he pisses me off, I want Jon to be happy, too, you know?”

Shayne narrowed his eyes. “Mmhmm. Are you okay? What was that face?”

Charlie blinked and pulled his hand away from his belly, in case Shayne could somehow sense that it was there. He reached for his bottle of water again. “What face?”

“I don’t know, I can’t do your faces.” Shayne rolled his eyes. “The one you make when you’re trying not to complain about something.”

“Oh. Well, my tummy hurts a little bit,” Charlie admitted in between sips.

That soft look didn’t really leave Shayne’s eyes, but he did frown and seem to peer a bit more carefully at Charlie through the screen. “Really?”

Charlie tried to force a half-smile. That look of concern was exactly what he'd been hoping to avoid. He lifted his bottle for another sip. His mouth was still dry, his head still felt a bit fuzzy, but the weight of the water was starting to make his stomach feel like it trying to fold itself in half. The pain was sharper now, in that pinpricked way that felt as though shifting position might relieve it.

"I'm sure it's just the stress leaving..." Charlie's voice faltered.

Ggglllrrrrrrnnngrrrrr.

"Leaving my body," Charlie finished. That last gurgle had built all the way up into a full-fledged growl, pinching the walls of his stomach together. He felt like a deflating balloon that had just lost the last remnants of its air.

“What was that?” Shayne demanded.

Shit. Charlie's head felt like it might explode. “What?”

“You made another face.”

“You – you didn’t hear that?” Charlie swallowed. He really needed to get these alleged faces under control. Their phones must have been good at drowning out background noise, even if it was coming from close-by. “My stomach just made this… huge noise.”

“That's what that was?"

Charlie let his phone drop onto the mattress and curled himself up into a ball, scooping his pillow into his arms and burying his face in it.

“I thought it was, like, a motorbike, or something, passing your apartment,” Shayne said through the phone speaker, even though he was talking to the ceiling again.

“Hey, that’s… rude,” Charlie whispered. He pulled the phone closer and kept most of his face hidden behind the pillow.

“How's that rude?” Shayne raised his eyebrows when he realised he could see Charlie again – well, his forehead and eyes, anyway. “It’s not my fault your stomach just screamed at me down the phone.”

Charlie felt like an electric shock had just been administered to both sides of his face, blasting the blood vessels in his cheeks. He could have sworn Shayne’s lips pressed a little tighter together, like he was fighting a smirk.

“Shut up,” Charlie quipped. Oh. Good one.

“What’d you do, forget to eat, or something?”

He didn’t mean to hesitate. He really didn’t. He meant to laugh it off, to pretend he hadn’t neglected his stomach for so long that even half a bottle of water was seemingly too much for it to handle right now.

“Wait. Fuck. Really?” Shayne propped an elbow on his desk and dropped his chin into his hand, like this conversation was a weight that had just manifested on his shoulders. “Charlie.”

“Shayne,” Charlie groaned.

"Is it possible you're actually having hunger pains right now? What’d you eat today?”

“I had a –”

“And I swear to fuck, Charlie, if you say the words ‘iced coffee’, I will leave this house, get on a bus, come to your apartment, punch you in the fucking arm, and then leave again,” Shayne said. “Madelyn be damned.”

Charlie gulped. “It wasn’t iced, it was normal.”

Shayne lifted his head from his palm so that he could rub at his jaw. A clear-cut sign of frustration.

"I'm sorry," Charlie sighed.

"What? You're sorry to me?"

"Yeah, I'm... I'm always giving you a hard time about food." Charlie tugged the pillow down a little lower, revealing more of his face. It also meant that he was hugging the pillow to his stomach now, which, admittedly, wasn't as good as when he'd been physically kneading it with his hand. "I feel like a hypocrite."

“Charlie, love – you – you give me a hard time because… someone probably should.” Shayne scoffed, probably trying to hide the slight tremble in his voice. "I’m… I’m worried about you now.”

“I know, I can tell,” Charlie grimaced. “You’re stretching your jaw.”

“No, I’m not. Shut up. You’re going to hang up –”

Charlie winced and hugged himself harder. The very last thing he wanted was to be left alone with his misery. “I wanna keep talking to you.”

Shayne glared as if to say, let me fucking finish. “You’re going to hang up, order something on your… food app thing, and then call me back while you’re waiting for it to arrive.”

The thought of food was confusing to Charlie's stomach as he tried to envision it. On the one hand, the last thing it wanted to do in its abused state was to be put to work, digesting something heavy and/or greasy. But on the other, it'd been stewing in acid and coffee for so long that it'd probably feel like a relief to be lined with something different.

Creamy chicken korma, maybe, and fluffy basmati rice...

"Fine," Charlie sighed. "I'll order something."

"Good."

"I don't need to hang up, though. I can just minimize the chat window."

"Right. Minimize the thing."

"Stop stretching your jaw, lovely," Charlie repeated as he started to scroll through a list of nearby restaurants.

"Hey," Shayne murmured. "You're supposed to be ordering food. You're supposed to have me minimized."

"Yeah, you're in my top corner. Stop flexing your jaw."

"You're so fucking annoying..." Shayne lowered his voice to a mumble. "I miss you."

A pang of longing clenched Charlie's stomach. His eyes were briefly pulled away from the brightly-coloured digital menu so that he could watch the tiny, dimly-lit version of his boyfriend gaze back at him through the screen.

"I miss you, too, lovely."

"Shut up. Did you order something yet?"

#StW Charlie #StW Shayne #sickfic #hunger fic #hunger #stomach ache #stomach ache fic #hurt and comfort #hurt comfort #food mention #hunger mention #otter anon #🦦💜 anon

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billys-pretty-babe · 1 year

Note

Hi Em 💙

I want you to know that the stories you create are beautiful, really. You deserve much more recognition, you really have a talent for writing : not only on the technical level (grammar, plot build up, causes and consequences of each action on the plot, etc), but also on the ... um... empathetic (?) level as well. (I'm not sure I've phrased that correctly but I think you know what I mean). I mean, when reading your stories, we can all feel the empathy and compassion you put into your writing for your characters. It's beautiful, really.

But please, don't force yourself to write when you are too tired, busy or just don't feel like it. I know you feel guilty about not posting stories every week, please don't set such an inflexible pace for yourself.

I don't want to assume anything, so if this makes you uncomfortable in any way please let me know or feel free to ignore this :

Maybe writing is a form of therapy for you, and maybe that's why you like writing fics so much. If that's the case, I totally understand your inclination to want to write that much. I often find myself eventually turning a healthy coping mechanism or hobby into an obligation by setting very harsh expectations for myself, without actually meaning to. I know what it's like not to see your limits when it comes to work or passions/hobbies. I deal with the same thing too. So maybe I'm hardly in a position to give advice on that... But I still need you to know that you don't have to feel guilty for not being as active on your blog as you would like. I know, easier said than done...

I know it's hard to ignore the feelings of guilt or inadequacy that one might feel in this kind of case. But those feelings, while real, don't define your worth, believe me. They don't.

You have the right to rest, to take time for yourself, and to do something other than writing if you feel like it.

Please don't be so hard on yourself, please don't set such harsh expectations for you, let yourself work and enjoy things at your own pace.

All your readers love your stories, me first. When I see a notification from your blog I jump on it because I know in advance that I'm going to like it. But you are more important than our reading desires. Your rest and well-being are a million times more important. Please don't apologize if you haven't been posting as much as you used to, it's totally normal Em. I promise. 💙

Please take care of yourself. 🤍

Sending you lots of hugs 🫂❤️

I've read this a few times to figure out how I was going to respond and honestly there are no amounts of words that can ever express how much I appreciate you and everyone that reads anything I put out. I use fic writing as a distraction from the real world and unfortunately there are days where I'm drained but I still feel like I have to write as a way for me to cope and essentially heal from what I went through as a child up until I was able to leave my home for college.

At times I have to remember that I am in fact human and I can't always pump out fics like I would like to but at the end of the day, I also know that these make people's days better. I use these as an escape because it lets me forget everything and focus on giving everyone a happy ending.

Thank you for making me feel seen 💜

#billy eddie steve babygirl talks

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re-coding · 3 months

Text

I make a stupid decision to decide to make a (fic) writing app, cheers

Well now, I know there's like tons of them out there in the market. A lot of them are good! And even free (or have pretty good free versions)! A reddit thread I found have a few very good ones, you guys can check it out! (I'll add my own two cents later :3)

But look, the only thing I want to do, is to have a place when I can throw my ideas into a list (like what I'm did in my notes app) then auto convert it to a document when I feel like I want to write it. None of them (or at least, what I saw/found) have it!

To do that, I set up a Google Form-Google Sheets system so I can just fill in the form when I get some thoughts™. Then when I feel like I want to add another WIP to my ever-growing list of WIPs, I'll just open the associated sheet, see what idea I would like to write, then create a Google Docs and copy/paste the idea there.

Easy, right? Problem solved?

No, not really. For me, there're a few problems with this.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Problem(s)™

The process of opening Google Forms takes forever to load (depending on my Internet) and I have a goldfish memory. What are the odds that I forget my ideas by then.

(Just use phone notes app then) But I'm in the mood to type my fic in a computer 😔😔 I don't wanna copy my prompt there to a doc via phone, or worse, retype it out. There's like 4 steps there at least! I'll lose my motivation by then!

Google Sheets has this problem where the text refuses to wrap properly if you add a long text (my ideas are sometimes a few hundred words of rambling y'know). So whenever I decided to grace the sheet with my presence, I'll need to reformat the wrap if I wanna read what I wrote. That's 1 whole extra step.

I'll need to open at least two tabs here, 1. my sheet file, 2. open a new docs file

Look, they're all pretty minor inconveniences imo, but I'm 1. a lazy mf and 2. a tired mf

So, I made a decision any sane person with a job and 0-energy would do - I thought "Hey, why don't I make my own?".

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

And thus begin the brain-storming

Ok, look I'm not that good at UX/UI designing. I figure that should be the first step so I went and watch a few video and stumbled upon Juxtopposed's world's shortest UI/UX design course (it's pretty great, do check it out!). Simple, quick, concise - perfect.

First, I started with designing the user flow. I planned out a general idea of what I want my app to do and how it would flow from there starting from the landing all the way to when users save their work and exit the app.

Boy, I sure hope I did that correctly.

This generally is made up of user actions (except for landing). You may notice how it's mostly AO3 focused because yes, I'm using this just for AO3 - as in I stopped using fanfiction.net, Wattpad and Quotev a long time ago.

I did get some inspirations for some of the features from other existing apps. Like:

Scriever - it's paid, but most people say it's a godsend but personally, I've never tried it. I think it pioneered the scenes idea tho.

Manuskript - Free open-sourced version of Scriever basically! They also have words and phrase frequency analyser and I think that's pretty neat!

MyStory.today - I like the idea that you can edit and view multiple scenes at once but the writing UI itself feels kinda clunky? It feels bothersome to add a new scene below my current one. But free version is enough and that's pretty nice. Oh yeah, not sure if it's just me, or it's kinda laggy

Wavemaker - ok this actually a great one! Everyone should give it a chance! But again, too complicated to just add one simple idea when I just wake up for instance.

Story Plotter - This one is nice. It actually have a idea to story button but, why are there... so many things... to choose before I can start writing the story. Granted, all of them are optional and you can just spam skip... a whole 7 times (unless it's a freeform, in that case, 4 times). But this provides a nice idea to combine more than 1 ideas into one plot tho. Also, not my style

Campfire - Is nice, there's so much things you can customize! But well, the free version can be quite limiting, like what if I need more than 25k words :(

Notion - Ok, here me out, it's not a great idea to write multi-chapters long fics here exactly without some amount of setting up too. BUT I love the markdown system here and I wanted to include it.

Do try some of them out, maybe you'll find your new writing app soulmate, who knows?

So... about the user flow diagram

I'm making this app because of two main features, ok maybe three, that I want to make my life easier and make me happier.

The ideas being converted and directly stored in my writing doc.

Being able to use markdowns to type unlike google docs *squint eyes*

Copying the whole chapter in HTML so I can just throw it in AO3 and click update without worrying about forgetting the formatting OR having to go to those docs to HTML converters.

And a secret fourth thing to maaaaaybe include things like chats, boxes, and other workskin related things

Oh, yes and how could I forgot, syncing progress across multiple devices

So I want to implement auto-save features (well, at least when you're connected to the internet, else it'll save locally first). The database I'm thinking to store these should be the user's own google drive (but that would required the user to sign in to their drive first).

Inversely, I'm thinking if the user did edit the doc in the drive, it should reflect in the app too, so I'll need to think about that. But the idea is that one chapter should be stored in one doc, and then separated by a scene separator symbol (I'll figure this out) to break it into scenes in the actual app. That may be a bit messy to edit in docs though so maybe a traditional folder + docs might suffice but then, there's also a space constraint, where there is too much scenes. That's probably where the web services come in.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

And, oh! another diagram!

Ok look, the user flow made perfect sense to me while I was making it. After looking at it again while writing this... In hindsight, I should also make a screen/page flow diagram, or sitemap, so here it is! So- ta-da~!

So this should be the whole flow of screens for the app. There may be more screens in the future but for now I think this should be it!

The app mainly just consist of -

The home page - which displays ALL your works/books

The ideas page - which is basically my notes app for, well, ideas, word vomit, random shower thoughts about how much you want a fictional character to be xxx

The writing page - which will be the main working space, the rest of the pages like references, characters, places, timeline, chapters and individual scenes can be accessed easily from this page too

The profile page - well, it's your profile! Access your profile settings, change themes, work space settings or what you want to copy in your html here - maybe add friends for collabs and betas in the future? We'll see

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

And that's it! ...For now

Oh my god, I'll admit, this post went on longer than I expected haha. That's all that I have to share for now! Next up, I'll get started on the wireframing process (moodboards? hunting down apps? reddit???? ok nevermind, reddit sounds like a bad idea). I know I kept calling it app, but I think I want it to have an app, windows, (macs?) and web version.

Thanks for making it this far and reading it all!

#writing app #app planning #app development #fic writing #writing tools #brainstorming #userexperience #user interface #app ideas #this is me procrastinating #on actually doing my wips

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sleeplessregret · 10 months

Text

what am i even doing here? dunno, doesn't matter i guess. just wasting time away. wasting time i could spend sleeping, learning japanese, educating myself. but who am i joking. trying out stuff like this to somehow change my life. the life, that i'm living for years without being satisfied, but also without feeling a great enough urge to change. to actually do something. sometimes i want to call my state of mind "suffering". but i usually refrain of doing so. i mean i don't wanna sound like those edgy kids. and i know people who probably do worse. so who am i to complain. and since all this "suffering" is somewhat self-inflicted, there is no way I actually could complain. so here i'm sitting. deep in the night, trying out something i'll be abandoning by tomorrow but who knows. i guess it could be some form of therapy when done correctly. but how could you even do something like this "correct". so here i am, just writing down everything that comes to mind in my broken and flawed english. a language i am getting sonicated with more than with my mother tongue but still not able to speak properly. embarrasing ain't it. searching for elemantal words, anxiously typing words into translators to confirm my thought of what they mean. but whatever. weekends over, nothing achieved, nothing new for me. the biggest achievements nowadays are finishing anime shows. actually watched/finished a couple great ones recently. especcially "rain town" - a ten minute short movie. really made me feel all sorts of emotions. just a beautiful experience. and since anime is currently my main way of experiencing positive feelings, it is more of an escape from the real world than ever - at least so it feels. and well, interacting and spending time with a single person is currently the only other way of actually feeling anything. i'm very greatful for that time, although i can't really show these sort of emotions, which is quite a burden to me. especially when it comes to family. so many things i am truly grateful for, but cannot express these sort of emotions make me feel like a horrible person. since i'm so rarely able to pay them back. makes me feel like i'm really not deserving these kind of people around me. and since i'm already losing these close people slowly, i wouldn't be surprised if at some point noone is left.

man what a stupid human being am i. what does it take, that i will actually change something. losing weight, finding interests, getting in touch with people. so many big goals, but i can't even start with the little things. i'm failing at the literal first steps as if it doesn't affect me. like if everything is already fine and all those things are just nice little extras. but they are fucking essentials. but its just the result of my current lifestyle. the result of always telling myself that everything is fine. that everything somehow will work out. and the worst thing is, it mostly did. it's not like a level in a game, where you can't continue unless you learned a certain trait, unless you accomplished a certain something. life just goes on. and you can proceed with very little skills, with a weak mindset, with little people close to you. with an unhealthy lifestyle. no one is holding you back. and that is exactly my demise. i work better when i get instructions. when i get told what to do and in the best case punished if i can't do it. what sounds pathetic is exactly that. i just know, that the current circumstances are seemlingly not enough to flip a switch inside of me. doing stuff for myself is always harder, than when doing it for someone else. and since this someone doesn't exist for me, i wonder if something will ever change.

just listening to a chill stream right now and hearing the streamer ask chat if they had some special skills. while obviously not receiving serious responses, i couldn't even think of a serious one. at least of nothing, that i'm not tired of myself yet. like yeah, i can calculate big numbers in my head...wow. nice to show off, but nothing of worth. being considered smart by others, but that is a simple illusion for people, who think a good result in a common iq-test means, you're actually smart. playing tennis on an insignificant level for half my life, but not really being able to play at all in the last years. or i guess i could, but me not living at a place for more then six months because of studies doesn't really help with settling down in a place and building some sort of foundation for my life. but even if i had this opportunity right now, i couldn't pull it off anyway. so again, i'm just trying to escape into excuses, why i apparently can't do anything about something like this. finding excuses is a vital task for me in general, because once i run out of them, i can't even justify my actions to myself anymore. a truly horrifying thought. actually getting confronted with responsibilities without having reasons to procrastinate is something a person like me fears at least as much as those responsibilities themself. but yeah, writing about it helps, right? i don't feel like it. i'm not really getting as emotional invested in this as i imagined - maybe hoped. nah, i didn't expected anything from this in the first place. and since i most likely won't look back at these texts anyway, those a just words left to rot in a distant corner, where i'll never take a glance back at them anymore. is this how you say it? probably not. whatever. not really feeling myself thinking about this stuff right now.

i mean, at this point i already did a solid job anyway. that's what i'm telling myself. talking about my problems is generally known as a good thing. and i just did that. so that was already a good thing. an illusion, i'll use for now, so i can feel some sort of satisfaction. and since it might actually be a good start i'll just prevent any further debate about this in my head. i know it's not enough. i know that i probably won't continue this anyway. because this is something i do solely for myself. and these things don't last long. never did.

it's nearly 3am now. wasted another chance of getting enough sleep. but who am i joking. even without writing this, i would still be awake, drowning myself in distractions so i can get the feeling of experiencing things. things more important than sleep. which they aren't. but it's too late for being rational anyways.

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diosmio76 · 3 years

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What I Deserve (2) | soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.

Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader

WARNINGS: +18, dub-con, needle use, stalking, fingering, kidnapping, kind of non-con (more dub-con but just incase)

Word Count: 3,076

A/N: my timeline on which version of Barnes is fucked up and a mix of everything honestly // my first ever time writing smut, and honestly I'm open to constructive criticism b/c I have no experience in this area LOLZ

You squeezed your eyes as you stretched your body. Feeling your comforter rise and fall against your skin from your movements. You hung your feet off your bed and stretched them before standing up. You did your usual set of morning stretches, were they done correctly? Probably not, but it was the thought that counts and the only form of self-care you gave yourself. You let out a sigh as you got ready for another day similar to all the rest. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be excited about waking up, but who were you to complain. You used the toilet as you went back and forth in your mind about nothing in particular, your eyes staring at your bed that was quickly losing the warmth it collected from your body. Once done in the bathroom you dragged yourself to your vanity, hearing the faint noise of cars on the street, you began getting ready for work. After changing and grabbing your tattered work bag, you began your journey with all the other commuters.

The day dragged on like any other, talking to coworkers only when they needed something from you. Hearing the usual remarks of “Oh, I didn’t notice you” or “I didn’t even see you there”, you got used to it but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Before you had time to dwell on it, it was time to go home. You packed your bag then began your walk home, following the same route you always take during the week. Taking a little solstice in the fact that you were just another face in the crowd, that fact made you feel as if everyone else was alone too. Once home you locked the door and dropped your bag, heading to the bedroom you changed into an oversized shirt and put on your slippers before heading towards the living room. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume for some background noise, making the short trip towards the kitchen to make dinner. You rarely got messages on your phone unless it was from your mom or your phone provider wanting you to update your old phone, so you scrolled mindlessly through various social media newsfeeds. You munched on a vegetable as you waited for your pan to heat up. You tried to not feel bad for yourself, you were the one to blame for the lack of social life but you were in too deep. Too set in your ways. You stared at the steaming pan as you imagined moving across the country.

“Yeah right” you said aloud to yourself as you finished cooking your dinner, eating the food but not really tasting it.

~~~

You repeated the same routine the next day, unbeknownst to you today was the day that Bucky decided you were ready. It didn’t take him long to find a house isolated by miles of forest. Despite its unassuming traditional exterior, the inside was modern as he enjoyed the impersonal nature that the style provided. He spent the majority of his time there making sure the house was locked and secure in case you tried anything. The thought made him laugh a little, knowing you didn’t have it in you but he didn’t want to take any chances. Things had been going his way lately, and finding you was like the universe was rewarding him even more. At first, he considered getting to know you, and doing the whole flowers and dates thing but decided he didn’t have the patience for all that waiting, he’s been waiting long enough and he deserved something good. He settled on a much easier method. Breaking in was easy, old apartments like this barely gave him any trouble. He even had someone hold the building door open for him, just his luck.

The lock felt weird when you opened your door but you didn’t think anything of it, dismissing it as another sign of the building’s old age. He watched from afar as you went about your usual routine. He was beginning to become skeptical at how oblivious you were. He was practically behind you and you hadn’t even looked over your shoulder once. He even made some accidental noises by stepping on squeaky floorboards and didn’t get a reaction from you, he took this as another lucky break. You were tired today and fell asleep relatively easily, considering how long it typically took you to fall asleep. Bucky walked around your apartment as he waited for you to enter a deeper sleep, familiar with everything since he had been in here a few times since first spotting you all those weeks ago. He looked at your book collection, a mix of genres, and looked closer at the few photos you had on display. A majority of the old photos seemed to be of your family from decades ago. He picked up one that seemed more recent, the only one you had up that included you. He recognized the other two people in it, your mom and sister, both busy with their own lives. He already sized up your family and it would be easy to handle them if he needed to.

He walked into your bathroom and went through your medicine cabinet, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides a few nail polish bottles and various allergy medicines. Finally, he noticed the soft snores coming out of your room. He shut the cabinet, staring at his reflection for a second. He knew this was the right thing to do and had no bad intention. He softly grunted at his pathetic moment of self-reflection and took out a needle filled with a small dose of anesthesia. He observed you for a moment as you slept, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows relaxed, he considered for a moment how easy it would be to take you, but reminded himself of the bigger picture. He easily found a vein and waited a few minutes before taking you to your new home.

~~~

You squeezed your eyes shut and smiled to yourself as you thought about how well you slept last night. You hummed as you kept your eyes closed briefly noticing the absence of warmth that the morning sun provided you in the mornings. You thought nothing of it, too distracted by the fact that this was probably the best night’s sleep you’d gotten in months. Despite that you still felt a little groggy, you began to move but quickly felt something rough holding you down. Your eyes shot open as your breathing began to quicken. You became conscious of the rough restraints around your arms and legs. You awkwardly lifted your head up as you tried to look around, it looked like a basement based on the unfinished walls surrounding you, a single lightbulb hanging above you on the unfinished ceiling. You attempted to calm yourself down by deeply inhaling but knew it was a lost cause once you heard the shaky exhale leave your mouth. You knew you couldn’t break free from the knotted rope holding you down. You had weak arms and tried to use your leg strength in an attempt to kick yourself free but felt it begin to sting as it irritated your ankles from the pressure. You sat in a deafening silence and felt completely petrified.

You let out a whimper as you heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened as you saw a tall, broad man approach you. You were too scared to notice anything about him and began to feel yourself shake, causing you to miss the way he hungrily reacted to your frightened state. A shadow was cast on you as he stood over the bed. From the corner of your eye, you watched as his right hand lowered the comforter to your torso and expose your shirt as you twitched at the action. He smirked in response, your eyes following his hand as it hovered over the comforter as though he was going to do something. It exited your line of sight but your eyes were fixed in place. You heard movement as he straightened himself before speaking to you for the first time.

“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for most of the day” His deep voice filled the room as you kept shaking, too scared to answer. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and wondered if he could too, but he was too busy trailing his eyes over your torso. He noticed the way your nipples created peaks on your oversized shirt. He licked his lips before he moved his hand up to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You did your best at avoiding his gaze keeping your gaze low, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control your shaking but felt it intensify instead.

Still gripping your chin, a little tighter than necessary, and trying to control your shaking body got him hard. You looked so weak like this, it made him excited, a wicked smile painted his face as he looked down at your wide eyes and lips clamped together in terror.

“Look at me when I talk to you, doll”

You had a difficult time looking people in the eyes in general, so you lifted your eyes and stopped at his chin. You didn’t dare go any higher. He squeezed on your chin and heard him let out an amused chuckle. If you weren’t so terrified you would have noticed how out of place it sounded given the situation.

“That’ll have to do, for now, I can tell you’re terrified but you really have no reason to be. I only want to do what’s best for you- for us, I’m only doing what needs to be done.” He didn’t expect a response and stared at you as he let you sit with his words.

He took a moment and let his hand trail down from your chin. He felt the nervous swallow as his pointer finger trailed lower and lower. His finger deviated from its straight path as he placed his palm against your chest, pausing to feel your heartbeat racing. He almost felt sorry as he felt its frantic rhythm. He couldn’t help himself as he cupped your left breast. His thumb gently circling around the hard bud. You scrunched your eyebrows and scolded yourself for getting pleasure from his action. His gentle touch was a strong contrast to the situation he had put you in.

His finger continued its journey down and stopped just above your mound. You swallowed as you felt his eyes staring at you intently, not daring to see if you were right. He lifted his hand momentarily as he moves to sit next to you, hearing the springs groan under him, pushing the comforter towards the bottom of the bed. You get chills as warmth escapes, feeling the crisp air conditioning surround your body instead. Jerking at his touch, he returns his right hand to your body just below your navel this time. His fingers trace down until it feathered above your mound. You held your breath as if any noise from you would assure that he would continue his actions as if he would forget you were there. You felt his pause when his fingers hit the material of your cotton underwear. He slowly traces a short line along your clit, you ball your hands into fists wanting to make him stop. Why was your body enjoying this?

You hold your breath as he gently pulls them down till they were at your knees and returns his hand to its previous place. The empty room is quiet, amplifying the sound of both of your breaths. You feel his middle and ring finger move lower gently stroking your folds. You hear him let out a surprised huff as he continued stroking.

“I was gonna bring lube, but it looks like we won’t be needing it, huh sweetheart?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, he was right. You felt heat building ever since he grabbed your chin, but he didn’t need to know that. All you wanted to do was at the very least was cover your face, but felt the irritation of the rope on your wrists instead. He began back and forth on your heat for a few moments. The room now having the added noise of his fingers slowly speeding up as he stroked you. You shut your eyes as he circled around your entrance, you could already tell his fingers would be significantly bigger than yours. He slowly inserted a finger as you sucked in a quick breath. You could hear him let out a quiet groan as he watched his finger disappear into your hole.

After finding a rhythm he added another finger. You let out a whimper at the fullness of both of his thick fingers filling your hole. It stung at first, hurting slightly you wanted to try and stop his intrusion. Besides your finger, you had never had anything else inside of you. You felt slightly embarrassed by this when you were younger but as you got older you accepted the fact that your lack of social life was a major reason as to why you never had anything close to a romantic partner. Never being social enough to meet someone that you would want to be friends with, let alone sleep with. You felt as though you should tell this man, did you even know his name, that this was the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone before. Before you think any more about it you open your mouth, nothing coming out at first but it was enough for his eyes to go to your face. He slowed down his pace and had his eyes trained on your face waiting for you to speak as if his fingers weren’t leisurely stroking your soft walls in the meantime.

“I- I think I need to tell you something” The words left you slowly and your voice was shakey as you tried to speak and ignore your oncoming orgasm at his rough fingers stroking you gently. Why did you feel like you owed him this? You briefly thought to yourself. But it was too late to stop now.

He smirked at you as he waited for you to continue on. So far, you’ve shown him nothing but submissiveness. Cementing the fact that he made the right choice when he chose you. He didn’t plan on being this gentle with you originally but he couldn’t help it, feeling as though any other treatment would scare you away. His fingers never stopping their gentle strokes, he watched your lips as your quiet voice trembled on.

“I’ve never really, I haven’t done any of this before. I’m a virgin” the words leave you slowly, you gulp and still refuse to meet his gaze, scared for a moment that you would lose the gentleness he has given you thus far. You knew that wouldn’t stop him, but a small part of you hoped it would be enough for him to stop just for now. For the first time you decided to look at his face, still too scared to meet his eyes you opted to watch his mouth as you waited for a response.

To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. You had chosen to tell him this on your own, he didn’t even get a chance to ask you. He didn’t want to assume but based on his observations of you he had an inkling that this was the case. He felt proud of you, his perfect girl. He smiled gently at you in response. You shivered as his fingers paused their gentle strokes in you as he moved to kiss the top of your head.

“Thank you for telling me, my good girl” it sounded patronizing but your body thought otherwise. Feeling heat shoot straight to your core at his response. He felt you squeeze around his fingers at his response.

Once he felt that you adjusted to his fingers he began to alternate inserting them. Thrusting one and then the other inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut, you never felt this close to cumming so quickly. Your eyes swelled with tears as you quietly sobbed, reaching your climax. Both of you watched as he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive heat. Covered in slick from your climax. You watched as he moved his fingers close to his face, smirking at you.

“Just a little taste for now,” he said he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck on his two fingers that were just inside you seconds ago. The empty room amplified the sound, your face felt hot as you watched the lewd act feeling your core still throbbing.

He reveled in your obvious embarrassment, humming at your reaction. He wiped his damp fingers on his pants as he got up. You blinked slowly, taking in what had just happened. You had enjoyed what had just happened but felt angry at yourself for that. He shouldn’t have done that, and you had let yourself succumb to his fingers so easily. He watched you, deep in thought with your eyes spaced out. His cock throbbed as if reminding him he needed a release too but he didn’t want to scare you. He had a plan, but you had just showed him that he didn’t have to be as rough as he initially thought with you. And he wouldn’t ever admit it but he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, as soon as he interacted with you it was almost as if he needed to handle you with care. Something that he thought wasn’t in his nature, but for you, maybe he’d try.

He felt his confident demeanor waver for a second, an odd feeling. He needed to get away from her and have a moment alone, so with a quick glance, he turned towards the door and practically ran out of the room without speaking to her.

Too busy thinking, you didn’t notice the foreign feelings your captor had just experienced. Only noticing this broad figure leaving the room as if he was late for something. If you weren’t so busy scolding yourself you would have wondered if you had done something wrong to elicit that action from him.

#bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider x reader #stalker!bucky #stalker!bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #soft!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky imagines #marvel imagines #soft dark!bucky #bean writes

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maseshine · 3 years

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couple of masks, mason mount

Prompt: You are worried about Mason's workouts, after a conversation you take care of his skin and make him relax.

Warning: fluffy, sweet, light cursing

Words: 672

Notes: Just something sweet that popped into my head when I was doing my daily skin care routine, I hope you like it, I'm open for new requests 🤍😊

Author's Note: I know a lot of people write with the use of quotes, but I'm used to using the dash, so I hope it's not a problem.

You were definitely too focused on applying your easy mask correctly to hear the noises coming from downstairs that notified Mason had arrived from his practice.

The last few weeks had been pretty heavy for him, between championship games and finals to play, all he did was spend most of his time training. Not that this was a problem for you, you were very supportive, but you also had concerns about him.

Mason loved what he did, and never in your life would you discourage him, he was incredibly talented, and it seemed like the world was starting to appreciate that talent. Which put even more pressure on him.

You smiled beautifully when you saw him walking into the bathroom and stopping behind your leaning figure. His hands rested on her hips as he broke into a tired smile.

━ Hey, beautiful. ━ You whispered, the brush in your hand now rested in the pot on the marble sink.

━ Sorry I'm late, dear. We played a bit at Ben's house after we got out of training. ━ Mason had a low expression and his lips formed a small pout.

━ No problem, baby. You know you need to relax, the last few weeks are putting you a lot of pressure and stress, and you know it can hurt you. Having a little fun with the boys can help.

You turned your body so that you were facing him, your arms encircling his neck while theirs rested on his waist. Mason was a few feelings higher than you, so you always needed to tilt your head a little to look into his eyes.

You were the person who most cared about Mason after his family, he sometimes couldn't see how much he charged himself and even exceeded himself when it came to giving his best, and in recent weeks that had worried you a lot.

━ What are you thinking about? ━ He asked gently, his hands propelling you up onto the counter as he tucked himself between your legs.

━ I'm worried about you. ━ You muttered under your breath, your eyes stopped on the facial cucumber mixture. ━ And no, that doesn't do you any good, Mason. ━ Your amended when you saw his expression.

━ It's just tiredness, nothing much. After the games are over I'll be fine, beautiful. ━ You sighed, looking away. Mason didn't miss his movements, one of his hands turned her face gently, her attention on him again. ━ I'm fine, really. We're just all focused on our goals, it's my first Champions League final, we have to show that we're excellent.

━ I know, and you know that all I feel is proud of you. ━ You gave him a quick peck, before speaking again. ━ I just don't like to see you charging yourself too much. You're talented, and I know people already know that, you've proven it to a lot of them this season. But sometimes you forget to take care of yourself.

━ You are the best girlfriend in the world, you know?! ━ The silly smile on his face made him even more handsome. ━ And I'm fucking lucky you're just mine. I will save more time for myself. Promise.

You perk up when he intertwines your little fingers, a bright smile on his lips. Before you dare say anything, his mouths are together, his hands get lost in his long hair as yours tighten on his biceps as the kiss gets faster. You would never get tired of kissing Mason.

━ I love you so much! ━ His whisper comes out as soon as their mouths parted.

━ I love you so much more! ━ Mason smile pulling away, you laugh when you see his face dirty in some parts due to his mask.

━ How about I put the rest of my mask on that face of yours. You're losing your little baby face. ━ Mason just smiled as he tilted his face towards you.

A few minutes later and some fun pictures, you and Mason had your masks ready. It was a really relaxing rest of the day for Mason at the end.

#football #football imagine #chelsea fc #london #footballer #premier league #masterlist #mason mount #mason x reader #mason mount imagine #imagine #fuffy #couple

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r-queue · 2 years

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2. What was it like discovering that you were otherkin?

I never had a traditional awakening; to have a process of realizing that I was not human, somebody would have had to believe I was human in the first place. I spent my first several years of consciousness under the impression that I was a fictional character, and being treated as a fictional character by the people who knew me, and assuming that my experiences were normal ones for a fictional character...which may in a sense be analogous to the experience of many otherkin and fictionkin, growing up human and assuming that various feelings or instincts are either common or unimportant.

The closest experience I did have to a traditional awakening would, I think, have to be the experience of realizing there was something more to my species, my history, and my sense of form than my now-cohost and then-"writer's" interests and writing. It was a very gradual realization, so I can't exactly say where it started or peaked, but I think the first conscious acknowledgement of it by anyone must have been my cohost commenting that they hadn't actually made up certain aspects of my appearance or person, and couldn't meaningfully change them if they tried. After a point they started asking me about pieces of my anatomy that they couldn't seem to draw correctly, and I started focusing on how those things looked and felt -- meditating on them, in a sense, though it wasn't what either of us would have thought of as meditation at the time.

I don't think it was long after that that I began realizing some aspects of my pre-system history felt "more real" than others and began trying to pick apart what was memory and what was fiction or fictionalization. It's a gradient still, with more things that I think are more or less true or that I think may be abstractions of my history than things whose reality or unreality I feel certain of.

These were the least painful parts of realizing my personhood. Even when my cohost, in the oddness of youth, got overzealous and tried to drag me into "kinfirming" things I had no strong feelings about I always felt like I had a certain degree of control over these aspects of my identity, in spite of and maybe because of the inherent uncertainty of them. For any given avenue that someone else wanted me to investigate, the answer was always available: "well, maybe so, but I don't care." And that could be the end of the discussion, because these weren't things that really affected anyone but me.

All of that began years before I actually started calling myself otherkin, though. I can't exactly say that it happened years before, since I'm describing a process of discovery that never really ended...but I was very well established in my own mind as a person with a nonhuman identity -- as opposed to a piece of fiction without the autonomy to be anything but what I was written as -- for a long time before I ever referred to myself as otherkin. I knew the word, but I thought being a pluran exempted me from it, especially as a fictive whose nonhuman identity wasn't something totally separate from my fictivity. My cohost, then host, was also a pluran whose experience of nonhumanity had never really changed, and they called themselves otherkin, but I figured the fact that they believed themselves a singlet when they started using the word "grandfathered them in" -- and they had a more traditional experience of awakening, too. But, the fact is that I have always felt more comfortable in otherkin communities than in fictive communities, and my cohost has always related more to other fictives and extranths than I have. I called myself things like "otherkin-adjacent" long before "otherkin."

In the end I just got tired of saying things like "otherkin adjacent" and "often relating more to otherkin" and started saying "otherkin" when it felt more relevant than "fictive" or "extranth." I do meet the basest definitions of all three -- and of "fictionkin," I suppose, though I don't call myself that because it has never felt relevant either to describing myself or to seeking community.

#p #prompt response #a #otherkin #queue

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applejongho · 3 years

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a vampire's guide to blood dealing | bang chan

genre: humor, supernatural, adventure, dumbassery

pairing: vampire!chan and female vampire!reader named Mei (platonic)

description: Newly turned vampire Chan and old vampire Mei form a friendship through their shared hunger for blood, but can’t help but get into wildly bloody situations as their friendship blooms.

word count: 5.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, vampires, swearing, (a small amount of) violence

author's note: SURPRISE, I'M YOUR SECRET SANTA @meiiyue!! Did you guess me correctly when you had a hunch as to what my identity was at the beginning of the month? ;) You've made my month of December so much fun and I can't wait to start talking with you not behind my chanon pseudonym >:) anyways, chan and mei being dumbasses together, I had a HELLA fun time writing this and I hope you smile when reading <333

masterlist here!

SHE HAD KNOWN when the tea on his desk, next to the scattered medical papers and signatures that bound people to donating blood, was just a bit too red for any normal tea.

There was also the fact that the tea smelled like blood, but then again, everything smelled like blood at a blood drive. Being a vampire, Mei had to pinch herself every few minutes so she didn’t salivate all over the floor and reveal her bloodthirsty identity. She had no idea how the biology major that was running this drive, and also clearly a vampire by his red tea - Christopher “Chan” Bang - was holding himself together. Perhaps the tea was what kept him tethered to reality. But a vampire running a blood drive - that was the act of a being who had lost his mind.

Mei sat in Chan’s desk chair in his office - a white, cramped, doctor’s office that smelled like hand sanitizer - waiting for Chan to realize she was there. She had her feet propped up onto the table, black boots obscuring what seemed to look like calculus homework or chicken scratch. She couldn’t tell. So he studied here as well. Mei couldn’t help but laugh as she looked around his office: paintings of instruments that looked like they came straight out of a museum adorned the walls, a printer sat in the corner that looked like it would fall apart if it was asked to print one more paper, and a coffee pot with stains that would likely never come off. This was most certainly the living space of a tired and stressed college student - he had hidden his vampirism well. She doubted he even used the coffee pot anymore, Mei herself couldn’t bring herself to swallow anything except for blood.

She wondered how she hadn’t noticed the other vampire sooner. But now that she had found him, she was determined to befriend him and possibly help him; he couldn’t have been a vampire for too long. Mei shuffled her feet so they sat over some chemistry homework instead. She hoped she looked intimidating because it would have been embarrassing for a two-hundred-year-old vampire to not strike some sort of visceral and primal emotion into a baby vampire.

Like on cue, Chan entered the office with such frantic movements that she swore he would trip on himself. He had tousled black hair and a white lab coat snug on his shoulders that looked a little too perfect to be a real lab coat, like one a small kindergartener would wear on career day. He also carried a clipboard, and seemed to notice his franticness before he noticed Mei because he made eye contact with her but was much too delayed in his reaction to say anything until at least a few seconds later.

“Hello?” He said after a few seconds, staring at her. He looked like he was going to pass out with her feet on the table, or maybe he was just startled that someone was so confidently intruding on his space. Mei kicked her feet back onto the ground.

“Hello,” Mei said in greeting, then gestured to Chan’s cup of tea on his desk. “May I ask what kind of tea this is? It has such a wonderful taste. I couldn’t help but have a taste.”

He looked like he was going to pass out. “It’s a really, um, exotic flavor,” Chan said, placing his clipboard down on his desk. Mei glanced at it. It looked like a medical form. “You wouldn’t like it. Or, no, I’m really surprised you like it.” His voice had a clear accent - British? Mei was slightly surprised he wasn’t asking why she was in his office. He was probably too worried over the tea.

“Oh, it was bloody delicious, whatever it was,” Mei said. Chan looked like Mei had just found his illegal drug stash. “Okay, I’ll stop teasing. I’m a vampire. And I’m going to be terrified if you’re not also a vampire because it would be weird if you were a human drinking blood.”

Mei hadn’t realized Chan was on edge until his shoulders shrunk down a few inches and he gave a small smile. He was refreshing to see at ease - Mei was far too used to people being scared of her. “You are?” He asked in that hopeful fledgling tone that made her heart clench.

She nodded. “For two hundred years. I’m assuming it’s hardly been a month for you.”

She could tell he tried not to be phased by her age. It was routine for humans and young vampires to not be able to comprehend her age. “Three weeks, actually,” he laughed nervously. “I signed up to run this a few days before I got turned. I would have never accepted had I known...��

He trailed off, but Mei understood. “Baby vampires are usually more thirsty than adult vampires, and even I felt a little unhinged walking by all of the vials. I can’t imagine how you feel.”

Almost on cue, Chan reached for his tea cup and took a long, quenching drink. Mei watched him drink. He let out a breath after he finished, and his hair flopped in front of his eyes. “It’s painful,” he said simply. He let out a nervous laugh and scratched his head. “I was going to come in here for a break from the smell. But you’re here.” He stared at her for a moment, and Mei could see the gears turning in his brain. “Can you help me?”

It was such a vague question, but Mei nodded with certainty. Can you help me be a vampire? Can you help me not kill everyone in this blood drive, because I seriously might? “Let’s first give you a mask to wear. Like one of those disposable doctor masks?”

“I already thought of that, it doesn’t work,” Chan groaned, but Mei shook her head at him.

“Do you have gum?” She asked. “Peppermint flavored?” He wordlessly gestured to the main drawer in the desk, confusion etched onto his face.

Mei pulled out the gum. “I know you don’t want to eat it, and you don’t need to.” She unwrapped a piece, but threw out the gum, holding out the wrapper for him. “Stick this into your mask. I don’t think it will mask the scent completely, but it will certainly be a distraction.” She raised her eyebrows at him and urged him to take the wrapper. He took it, looking at her with wariness stretched across his face.

“Really?” He asked, pulling a blue mask out of his lab coat. He grinned and slipped the mask on, sticking the wrapper in it.

“Absolutely,” Mei said, not absolute at all. She had thought of this out of the blue. He seemed to relax at her certainty.

“Thank you,” he said. Even with a mask on, Mei could tell he was smiling. It was a smile of gratitude, a smile of being seen. “It’s... it’s so relieving that there’s another vampire on campus. It’s nice to know you’re here. Even if you broke into my office and ominously waited for me in my office chair.”

“That’s what I’m here for, I suppose,” Mei laughed. “I would say that I’d help you with the blood drawing, but I’m a music major. I certainly don’t have any license to perform anything related to human health.”

“Can you help me pack up the vials after the blood drive is over?” Chan asked quickly. “It’s just me and two more people, and they’re assigned to clean up. I’d trust you to, you know, not tamper with them.” Mei noticed he avoided saying the word blood. He must have been fighting his thirst harder than what he was letting on.

“Yes, and take another sip of your tea,” Mei recommended. He did so, rather rushed. He wiped his mouth and pushed his mask back on when he was done and gave a cooky grin that she could see through his eyes.

"I have to get back to... the blood tests, but I suppose you can stay here." He stood, silent for a moment. "Feel free to do my chemistry homework if you're bored."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mei said sweetly, causing Chan to give a snarky eye roll. Then, he exited the room to continue with the blood drive.

Nearly six months later and with another semester gone by, Chan and Mei had formed an unlikely, yet close friendship. Mei preferred to say they were blood-bound because between Mei's music theory classes and Chan's cellular biology homework, the two of them had no academic similarities. They had first hung out together in the library of the university, both always carrying opaque flasks of blood that felt like an inside joke between the two of them. They had upgraded to spending a few weekends together, and now they were practically inseparable. Chan knew all of Mei’s quirks, like how she had to practice guitar in the mornings and piano at night, or how she had to always be in the same practice room to get anything done. Mei knew Chan’s sense of humor, which was essentially knowing his entire personality - quick puns that could slip by as casual comments, or teasing that was prolonged and never-ending. He had gone an entire month speaking in a British accent when Mei had mistakenly called him British. There were certain phrases he had taken upon himself to abuse profusely.

“Bloody hell, I’m Australian!” He had told her, giving a teasing grin. “Aren’t you old enough to have traveled to other countries to know their certain accents?”

“I’ve been all over Europe,” Mei had corrected. “Mostly Spain, Portugal, and France, and not so much Britain. There are so many different dialects of English in Britain that I had just assumed that your accent was from there, so shut up.”

Chan had taken a sip of his blood tea and had given the evil look of a taunting younger brother. “Then I suppose your mind isn’t as sharp as you thought it was. It makes sense, considering you’ve been un-alive for more than two centuries.”

“I’m going to stake you,” Mei had said sweetly.

Another fond memory was when they had gone to a museum so Mei could narrate what actually had happened in history as they walked through exhibits. What they discovered instead was a love letter Mei had written to a female lover when she was a young vampire that had an entire exhibit to itself. And, as historians usually were, they had erased the gay undertones of the note. Chan had to stifle giggles as he read an excerpt from the exhibit’s description that very proudly declared the note full of heterosexuality, while Mei had to hold back on murdering every employee in the museum. Mysteriously, that was the last time they had ever gone to that museum.

Yet none of these experiences or moments could top the underground blood ring.

Mei and Chan, during the semester, stole small amounts of blood from the monthly blood drive a few biological science majors held, enough to keep them satisfied for at least until the next blood drive. But now the spring semester was ending, and unlike winter break, summer break was much longer and hotter. Neither of them loved going outside because, as vampires, too much time in the sun would make them thirstier and sometimes blister.

“So what should we do?” Chan asked, sitting with his legs crossed on Mei’s couch in her apartment. “You’ve been a vampire much longer than I’ve been one. What have you done in the summer?”

“Back when I got my last degree, cameras were really terrible and too weak to see me,” Mei said, squinting while reading something on her computer. Mei had gotten a creative writing degree back in the 80s in Spain, and a history degree in the 60s. She liked to point out frequently that she would have gotten many more degrees, but sexism prevented her for a long time. “Which had made it much easier to steal blood or drink from a sleeping person, regardless of the season. But cameras are much better nowadays, and while they still wouldn’t be able to see either of us that well, they would see things being moved around and possibly changes in shadow. And we don’t want that. Also, with you being a new vampire that’s not an expert at stealthily drinking blood from someone, we can’t just have you slinking around peoples’ houses at night.” She sighed and shut her computer, then gave Chan a look that made his spine dance.

“I have a few ideas, but none of them are that ethical or easy,” she said, grimacing. “Do you have any?”

Chan pursed his lips. “I could try hosting another blood drive?” Chan suggested, then discarded the thought. “Or we could go to the hospital I intern at and steal blood from there.” He said that calmly, normally, and Mei was a little shocked at how nonchalant he had become regarding blood acquisition. He used to cringe when Mei gave crazy stories of how she had taken blood from people.

“Hospitals should keep their blood, though,” Mei said, ignoring Chan’s surprised expression. “It’s one thing to take a few blood vials from healthy college students. It’s another to withhold a hospital’s stock that could potentially save someone’s life.” Chan wanted to mention that the blood collected from the university’s drives eventually made it to the hospital, but he didn’t want to create an ethical debate. They were already unethical as it was, being undead beings that drank blood.

“Okay,” he said, sighing. “So what are your ideas? Because those are mine.”

Mei gave a little smile, and Chan got nervous. “Mei, what are you thinking?”

“I was thinking of an illegal blood ring,” Mei said casually, then folded her arms over her chest and frowned at him when Chan gave an expression that was equivalent to her saying she had murdered someone. “I know your track record is perfect, but as a desperate vampire, I don’t know what else to tell you. Would you rather starve?” Chan opened his mouth to speak, but Mei held up a hand. “Hear me out.”

A million thoughts were running through his head, but Chan did as she said. She was right, he did have a perfect track record because it was imperative for someone that wanted to go into medicine that it was spotless. A blood ring was the perfect addition to his record if he wanted to throw away his degree and any chance of employment.

“There are more blood rings than you’d think, and a lot of them aren’t nearly as scary or dangerous as you might think,” Mei started. “Think of doctors that are fed up with blood donation regulations because certain people, such as gay people, can’t donate blood. Think of psychopaths that want to sell tainted or drugged blood to scrape a profit. Think of people without ID that need blood but can’t get it through lawful means. These are the types of people we’d encounter, and considering that we’re both strong and smart vampires, being friendly with them, stealing blood, and then jetting wouldn’t be hard. We’d only have to do it once,” she said as Chan’s expression darkened with doubt. “I don’t love the idea either, but I think it’s doable. Allow me to ask around, and I should be able to find a place for us to go and get our blood within a week.”

“And what about next summer?” Chan asked. “And the summer after?”

“By then, you’ll hopefully know how to take blood from humans in their sleep,” Mei said evenly. “I should have taught you earlier, but I didn’t. Please, Chan,” she said and gave a look. “Just go with me. I promise things will be fine. And if it doesn’t, we can just change our names and go to university somewhere else.”

“You’re insane,” Chan groaned. There was nothing smart about this plan. Chan could name several things that could go wrong off of the top of his head: the blood they could get would be so drugged that both of them would kill someone in their insanity, they could get caught or ratted out and lose their place in the university, or they could simply get killed by the blood dealers. But Chan begrudgingly agreed with Mei because it was the only plan they had. And blood, as delicious as it was, was slippery to deal with. This was simply one shady deed in a life that would last an eternity. He was too young to understand the small weight of this blood ring that would carry on his immortal life. He had to trust Mei.

“And besides,” Mei said, climbing off of her bed to grab a bag of blood from her fridge, “you can think of it as a heroic job. Maybe we can rat out the blood dealers to the cops, steal their blood, but then tell the police they destroyed it all in a hairy crossfire. You’re not the bad guy, Chan, nor a vigilante. You’re just a vampire that needs his needs met.”

So a little more than a week later, Chan found himself in the passenger seat of Mei’s Toyota, Mei driving like she was on her way to the grocery store to pick up some eggs. “Mei, I don’t know if we should do this,” Chan said, shifting nervously in his seat and rubbing his hands together.

Mei turned smoothly to a dirt road. The highway they had been on before had been smooth, so the new bumpy terrain made the two of them bounce around in the car. It just made Chan even more nervous - this was territory that wasn’t crossed often. “Chan,” Mei said in the same way a mother would soothe a child, “we’ll be fine. Like I said before, I wouldn’t be able to do this alone. You’re here for backup. I told the dealer you have a black belt and can make shit fly if things don’t go as planned.”

“I don’t have a black belt,” Chan felt he had to point out.

“And they don’t need to know that,” Mei said calmly. She turned again. Somehow this road was even bumpier. Chan felt like he was going to throw up. “You’re here for looks and intimidation. And if things do go awry, you look strong enough to do damage.”

Chan groaned. It was night out, and Mei turned off her headlights. It wasn’t a problem because both of them could see fine during the night; it was so no one else could see them. “Just relax,” she continued, which made Chan even less relaxed. “Think of the blood.”

Thinking of blood did make him feel better, much to his relief. He sat dazed while Mei navigated through the dirt path, thinking of the result rather than the work he had to do to get there.

Mei parked the car in between some trees and the two of them got out. Mei adjusted her hoodie and sunglasses, which made Chan pull out his sunglasses as well. He felt like a fake criminal putting them on. They only did this in movies. “This way,” Mei said, her voice amplified because of the silence that hovered around them. Trees were everywhere and Chan had no idea how Mei had managed to maneuver the car into the forest. He hoped a quick escape wasn’t going to be needed.

Mei trudged through the forest, Chan following. She led him to an old shack that looked like it was one breeze away from toppling onto itself. Chan had to duck to not hit his head on the door frame. The inside smelled exactly how a dilapidated and abandoned shack should smell like - grimy, slimy, and dusty. Then, of course, there was the smell of blood. He knew Mei could smell it too by how she stood straighter, or perhaps that was to seem more intimidating, because Chan had just noticed a few more figures already in the shack.

“I presume you’re Em and Bert,” said a cool, feminine voice across from them. The blood dealer.

“Bert?” Chan growled, quiet enough so that only Mei could hear, but she only smiled.

“That’s us,” Mei said, her voice devoid of the humor and carefreeness it usually held.

Even in the shadows, Chan could see the other woman give a smile. Despite the hood and mask she wore, the blood dealer wasn’t too incredibly intimidating. Chan thought she was sitting at first, but she was just short. A small lock of curly and blonde hair stuck out from her hood, giving the illusion that she was a small child. He almost snickered, but he was nervous himself.

Then he paid attention to her bodyguards. Three bodyguards were surrounding her, all tall, dark, and intimidating. The one to her right looked like he had muscles that could clock him into next week, while the one to her left had eyes of steel that he could feel scanning him. The one in the middle, right behind her, had the veiniest hands he had ever seen. He imagined them choking Mei or himself and he shuddered. Like the girl, they all had hoods and masks to conceal their identity.

“And do you have the money?” The girl said, a lilt to her voice. Mei nodded and pulled out enough money in cash to pay for an entire semester of school. Chan was amazed at his self-control to not do a backflip in the middle of the shack. Where had she gotten so much? He decided he’d have to ask later, or never.

The girl’s expression didn’t change at the sight of the money. “Put it on the table,” she said, then waved a hand to a three-legged table that sat in the middle of the room. Mei placed the wad of cash onto the table, then swiftly stepped away from it like the table was going to suddenly grab her hand if she didn’t move fast enough.

Chan was hit with a pang of anxiety. Why hadn’t Mei asked to see the blood first? The bodyguard to the girl’s left pocketed the money. They could be murdered right there, and Chan still had to study for his anatomy final. He glanced over to Mei, who appeared to be unfazed. He gave her a look that he hoped she interpreted as, “do you still have an ounce of sense rattling in that brain?”

He didn’t need her to answer, however, because the girl motioned her hand. The buff bodyguard to her right bent down and picked up a box - Chan’s heart sank - a small box. His vampire senses started screaming because now the scent of blood had a visual paired with it, but there wasn't even that much. At most, this box of full blood vials would last Mei and Chan a month, which was less time than the two of them had for summer. The bodyguard placed it onto the same table where Mei had placed her money. This time, Chan took the case of blood. It was heavier than he had suspected, but it was still so little.

“You promised more,” Mei said evenly, echoing Chan’s worries. “I brought the money you wanted. Where’s the rest?”

“This is all we have left,” the girl said smoothly, and Chan had read enough crime novels to know that was a twisted truth. Likely, someone else had outsold them. And based on the amount of money Mei had given, that was an accomplished feat.

But even so, Chan could smell more blood somewhere, much like a human could smell both cookies and brownies being baked in a kitchen. Was it the blood from the girl and her guards? He didn’t think so, because that wasn’t the case when he was surrounded by fellow university students.

He didn’t have to look at her to know that Mei had smelled as much. Mei’s mouth twitched. “I see more right there,” she said, pointing vaguely towards the girl. The bodyguards stiffened.

“We have no more,” the girl repeated, her tone stricter than any of her bodyguards’ body language. Her eyes narrowed, and Chan caught the hue of them - blue. “Perhaps if you had offered more money, or if you were a bit more reputable, I would have-”

The girl was unable to finish her sentence, because Mei had darted forward, faster than any human could have ever moved. Before Chan realized what she was doing, Mei already had a hold on a second box, identical to the one he was holding. It must have been hiding somewhere, and for whatever reason Mei had managed to see it.

Chaos ensued. The girl screamed, Chan screamed too, and Mei had delivered a blow to the muscular bodyguard, sending him to the floor. He realized that he was supposed to act the part of the strong sidekick, but Chan’s rationality and legs had a different idea. He was not fit to fight. While Mei sized up another bodyguard, Chan took off running. He ran out of the shack, blood vials rattling violently in his hands. He realized too late that under no circumstances could he drop the box of blood - it would defeat the purpose of Mei’s inception.

To his chagrin, he realized one of the bodyguards, the one with veiny hands, had taken off running behind him, and Chan deliriously wondered if he was good at playing piano as he dove into the dark forest around the shack.

“Stop!” The bodyguard yelled as if Chan would obey. He ran further into the forest, grateful it was nighttime. He could see easily, and based on how the bodyguard faltered around the frequent trees, he didn’t have the same advantage. Chan slowed his running when he saw how far behind the bodyguard was and crouched by a particularly large tree, cradling the vials of blood like they were a newborn baby.

He heard the bodyguard come closer, but Chan had faith that he was hidden and quiet enough to not be noticed. “Shit!” The bodyguard swore when he must have been about ten feet away. Chan remained perfectly still, crouched low, not breathing. He was dimly aware of the spiraling and sharp pain coming from his toes because of the way he was sitting, and he decided to ignore it. Then, without warning, Chan lost his balance and toppled onto the forest floor, the vials crashing into each other and creating a cacophony of noise. It was Chan’s turn to swear.

The bodyguard was upon him within seconds. Chan had barely gathered himself and the blood, and was still struggling miserably on the forest ground, pain exploding from his toes. “Are you insane?” The bodyguard growled, his voice rough. Chan squirmed away from the bodyguard and barely missed the bodyguard’s lunge towards him. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to reach for his neck or the blood.

“Yeah,” Chan answered him, tripping into a standing position, but the guard was too close for him to make a run for it. The adrenaline racing through his system had adrenaline, and briefly he wondered how Mei was doing. Could she hold off two bodyguards and that girl on her own? He wasn’t doing well even with one. His knees began to shake, and for a moment he wished he had never become a vampire - he wouldn’t have ever been in this situation. He wouldn’t have been moments from death or capture.

“You must be truly desperate if you’re willing to steal from people like us,” the bodyguard snarled. “What were you gonna do with it all, resell it? Give it to authorities to rat us out?” He backed Chan into a tree. “Or fucking drink it?”

Chan’s eyes widened, and a lightbulb glowed in his mind with a ridiculous idea. For the past few months, Chan had adjusted to being a vampire, but he couldn’t help but often felt alienated even with Mei being a new addition in his life. He avoided drinking blood in front of a human and even broke out into a sweat when it was in a concealed and opaque container in fear of their terrified reaction. Now, Chan took this opportunity to turn the tables in his favor. He just hoped he wasn’t the greatest fool for doing it.

“It tastes like cranberry juice,” Chan said in a voice that was much too cheery for how unhinged he felt internally. Then, without warning, he uncorked one of the vials of blood and chugged it. He let it slosh around in his mouth as a red sea, he gurgled it, he let it run over his mouth and onto his chin, and he prayed to some god, a god that likely had damned him already, that this plan had an ounce of sense. At least the blood tasted good.

“What the fuck?” The bodyguard choked, which was precisely the reaction Chan had hoped for. Chan kicked out and slammed his leg into the bodyguard, causing him to sputter in surprise before falling to the ground. His head connected with a tree and the sound was sweetly sickening. Chan stood, staring at the man lying unconscious on the floor, staring at his hands, staring at the blood. He must have stood there for a few minutes in stunned silence, before being interrupted by screams and shouts coming from the old shack.

“Seungmin!” A masculine voice shouted, and Chan assumed the voice was referring to the knocked out man lying on the forest floor in front of him. Unfortunate for both of them. A few more screams, and then, “-in the building!”

He heard a crack, and the most horrible, loud sound of splitting wood, metal chafing, and tile cracking overcame all silence in the forest. Chan cringed as he ran back towards the shack, fearful of Mei’s safety.

He emerged from the forest, only to have Mei dart in front of him to seize his wrist. Her hair, done in a ponytail under her hood, had become exposed and frazzled, but otherwise she seemed fine. She was carrying the second box, that special box, under her arm, and Chan wanted to cry with relief. They were both okay, they had done what they had come to do. “Car!” She huffed, then took off running, still gripping Chan. He felt like a rag doll being yanked by his five-year-old owner as Mei dragged him towards their escape.

He threw himself into the car, Mei already driving before his butt hit the seat. He placed his box of blood at his feet and felt out-of-body as Mei drove like a demon out of hell out of the forest and onto the gravel road. Chan had never felt so happy to feel the motion sickness that came from the rough terrain. He glanced over to Mei, who had ripped off her sunglasses. She looked like she had just slain a dragon and was glowing with adrenaline. Chan was filled with the happiness of knowing her. How could he ever have gotten so lucky? He broke into a grin, then began crying with laughter.

“We did it!” He cried, and Mei joined in with him after a few moments. He could hear the tension, fear, and anticipation leave her body as she laughed - a joyful, boisterous, and relieving laugh that seemed to be perfectly in rhythm with the car bouncing on the gravel road.

“We did, didn’t we?” She choked out after her laughter subsided. “But God, Chan, you look like you were shot in the mouth. What happened?”

Chan suddenly remembered his silly vampire distraction, and he burst into laughter all over again. “I scared the daylights out of the bodyguard that chased me by chugging some of the blood,” he giggled. His head was going to fly off of his head in the next few seconds. “It was all I could think of to distract him.”

“Oh my God, Chan,” Mei laughed. “That’s brilliant.” Mei turned, and the car gave a few jolts as it tore into another dirt road. “I destroyed the shack. It was sort of an accident, but it was only a matter of time.”

“And how’d that happen?”

Mei chuckled. "Throwing a bodyguard enough times against a wall causes a lot of strain on the house. I think I crushed everyone in the shack. Oh!" Chan's mouth dropped open as Mei reached into the center pocket on her hoodie and pulled out the wad of cash that she had used to pay for the blood. “There’s this.” She threw it into his lap, and Chan jumped as it touched him.

"Mei!" Chan gasped, unsure whether to laugh or be terrified. "We literally stole from them, and now we cut them short of-"

"Yeah, and they cut us short too," Mei shrugged, having an ethical compass of a seesaw. "Their leader, the little girl, promised me a second box. I was essentially paying for two boxes and she only gave me one. It's only fair. Well, at least for us." Mei stared off into the distance as she drove. "And I bet you smelled the blood of the second box, too. Perhaps she thought she could undercut us. Either way, I hope all four of them are screwed either financially or physically. Honestly, I might have killed the ones in the shack. But now I can pay for my next semester and not die of thirst over the summer."

She said all of this causally, and Chan didn’t feel like lecturing her. He had sins too, lying unconscious in the forest. Chan also decided not to ask where Mei had gotten her money. He didn't want to, because he knew she didn't have it before this. "I mean, they're blood dealers," he said instead. "I don't think they care about laws or rules. But still..."

"Still nothing, Chan," Mei laughed. "We did it. Can't we celebrate?"

"Ah, two vampire college students stealing blood from a shady group of people that we might have killed. Congratulations to us," Chan said in a mocking voice, but smiled. "We certainly did it. Let's never do it again."

"You can say that again," Mei agreed. Her mouth quirked upward, and she barely suppressed a giggle. "Honestly, I thought we were screwed the entire time," Mei said carefully. "I thought they'd have backup in the forest or around the shack. Me reaching for that second box - that was pure stupidity."

"But we got our blood," Chan said with a note of finality.

"We got our blood," Mei echoed. Against all odds, they had pulled off a plan only a college student could conjure. "If we can do this, finals will be easy."

"Are you sure about that?"

Chan and Mei bickered back and forth over if finals or stealing illegal blood from shady vandals was harder (finals won) until Mei got onto the highway. Homebound and their goal accomplished, the two vampires laughed all the way home. In the sky, the moon's white rays glowed on them, the foil of the sun that they had grown to love as creatures of the night.

#skznta2020 #stray kids #stray kids fic #skz #bang chan #vampires #vampire au #platonic #x female reader #college au #staysource #cb97net #my writing #stray kids oneshot #bang chan oneshot #stayheavennet

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merakiui · 4 years

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hey!! i was lucky enough to stumble across your blog, & i'm enjoying your writing!! could i request something for a first date w/ sian? maybe something more casual, like a cafe!

(I’m glad you like it! Hopefully this is what you had in mind with your request! I went for a “friends to lovers” vibe in a modern setting if that’s okay. Please enjoy and thank you for such a fun request!)

Courtesy Coffee (Sian)

You met under unpleasant circumstances. Sian was in a rush to get to his destination, and you were staring down at your phone with a cup of iced coffee in your other hand. Like that banal trope in shoujo manga, the two of you crashed into one another, and your drink spilled all over his outfit. As complete strangers, it was obvious that the one who was drenched would be incredibly frustrated. That was an exact observation, only Sian didn’t feel the need to use a filter that day.

“Are you kidding me? Watch where you’re going!” he had yelled, gripping his soaked shirt and glaring daggers at you. “How am I supposed to show up to work looking like this?!”

Anyone would feel frightened with his exasperated tone of voice and the intimidating aura that surrounded him, but you weren’t one to surrender immediately.

Straightening your shoulders, you met his heated stare. “I’m sorry. At least it wasn’t hot, right?” Hoping to dispel his anger, you smiled a little. “I can buy you a clean shirt if it’ll make you feel better.”

He puffed his cheeks out, suddenly bashful as he avoided your gaze. “It’s the least you could do! Seriously, this is the worst. I smell just like your stupid coffee.”

“Hey, don’t diss my iced coffee. It’s delicious and you know it.”

“If it’s so good, why is it all over me?” he snapped, crossing his arms. “This’ll stain, you know!”

“I offered to get you another shirt.”

“It’s not just on my shirt, you moron! I can’t face my colleagues like this. You have no idea what they’ll say.”

“Suck it up then!”

“No!”

You sighed heavily, gripping your empty coffee cup. “There’s no need to be difficult. Just let me get you a clean polo and slacks. Unless you’d rather parade around in wet, coffee-smelling attire. You’re making a scene with all of your yelling.”

“You were just yelling, too. Fine, whatever. I guess you can do that.”

Even as you spied his blush, you couldn’t ignore your thoughts. Is he seriously embarrassed by the fact that I’m getting him clothes? Anyone would do this to repay the damage.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Oh, and for the record you’re the one who should watch where you’re going.”

He didn’t take those words too well. Regardless, that was how you met the guy with a loud mouth and an even louder personality. You ran into him twice after that incident, and each time he seemed to stumble over himself. He tried to thank you for the clothes, but all he could manage was a huff and an angry comment about how the fabric was uncomfortable. Weeks later, that same boy just so happened to feel bad about starting a few shouting matches with you during those three times you interacted. He saw you in a café by chance and secretly covered your drink fee, making the barista promise not to reveal his identity. It was a sweet gesture, despite being anonymous and a bit of a shock on your end. You’d never experienced the magic that was receiving your drink for free, but it was great nonetheless.

You enter work that morning with a cheery disposition, passing by coworkers and even engaging in kind banter with those who aren’t the friendliest. You clock in and make your way towards the elevator while scrolling through an online article. Hearing a familiar ping, you glance up, urging whoever’s inside to hold the door. There are four other people crammed within the area, all of whom are silently waiting for the elevator to rise. You push the button for your floor and relax. Momentarily, you glance around the enclosed space to see if you can recognize anyone from your department. Your eyes sweep from one person to the next, and you spot polite Nine at the very back.

You’re compelled to greet him, but someone stands in your way. Someone who bears an uncanny resemblance to the guy who was showered in iced coffee two weeks ago. You gasp and turn away, hoping he won’t notice you.

No way! We work for the same company? What’re the odds? This must be a bad omen! I don’t want to start another fight with him, you think, having done your best to erase those memories.

The elevator pings, and you’re completely distracted. Though you don’t miss the hand that taps your shoulder. Your gaze follows his arm. It’s that guy again.

“Hey. This is your floor, isn’t it?”

The number doesn’t lie, but Sian’s memory might as he struggles to recall your familiar features. It clicks just as you bolt out of the elevator, the doors slipping shut and obscuring your backside for good. Sian blinks rapidly as his face heats up. That was...

Coffee idiot! he thinks. There’s no mistaking that stupid look on their face. He’s thrown into a bad mood at once, internally grumbling as he remembers that day. Even if he changed into new clothes, he still smelled of coffee. It was embarrassing, and his bothersome colleagues wouldn’t leave him alone. And now we work in the same building. Maybe I should just quit so I don’t have to face them.

"Can you believe it, Youssef?” you ask your deskmate, having ranted to him while typing up the progress of this week’s publication. At least that’s a monetary positive for the company. You can’t say the same for your mentality, though. “I do something nice in return and he yells at me. And then we meet again—twice—and he’s still rude.”

Youssef tilts his head, a childish gesture for someone his age. “Are you sure you’re not incorrectly reading his actions?”

“I’m positive. When have I ever been wrong?” You frown as your fingers slow their pace on the keyboard. “I just found out today that we work in the same building. This is totally unfair. Why do I have to bear the burden of knowing this information?”

“I’m sure he means well. What does he look like? I might know him.” You describe him to your helpful colleague, who nods and taps his chin in thought. His expression lights up with recognition. “If I remember correctly, his name is Sian, and he’s in the marketing department. We’ve only talked briefly, but I can assure you he’s quite diligent with his work.”

“Well, everyone’s got their own personality outside of their jobs.”

“I suppose, but it’s not polite to label someone based off of such little knowledge,” he advises lightly, turning his attention back to his computer screen. “Rather than using all of your energy painting a bad image of him, you should spend that time getting to know him. It’ll fix any negative impressions you may have.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t like that...”

Since then, you haven’t run into Sian once. At first you made it your mission to keep an eye out for him, but now that you’ve been busy with this new project you can’t be bothered to let his image clutter your mind. So you brush him aside like a cobweb, certain you won’t bump into him again. Your floors are far enough apart, so it’s unlikely that that’ll happen. But you’re not always the luckiest, and fate tends to tease those who aren’t on good terms with one another.

You’re close to running late on a rainy day, having missed the train, so now you’re doing everything you can to catch a taxi. Cars speed by on the road, and you fail to flag down a vehicle. Dejected and soaked to the bone, you drag your feet along the slick sidewalk, wishing for your next paycheck so that you can put it towards a used car. Speaking of cars, one slides past you as it makes an effort to park along the walkway. In doing so, the tires kick up a huge puddle, effectively soaking your lower half. As if the day couldn’t have gotten any worse. The car almost moves out of the spot before it halts, and the window steadily rolls down to reveal the face of your greatest enemy.

Well, he’s not technically your greatest enemy, but it really feels like it in that moment.

“Do you need a ride?” As if correcting himself, he quickly adds, “I’m not doing this because it’s you! I’m just sympathizing.”

Does it matter? you wonder, bitter and cold and wet. Karma is so brutal.

“You’re Sian, right?” You approach his car, peering in at the flustered man. “From marketing.”

“Y-Yeah. So what?”

“I’m in publishing.” Awkwardly, you look up at the cloudy sky. “It��s really coming down. The forecast didn’t call for this much rain.”

“Are you getting in or not?”

“But you’re a stranger,” you jest, fixing him with a pout. “I don’t want scary Sian to kidnap me.”

He glowers at your joke. “I’m leaving now. I don’t have time for this.”

You hold back a chuckle, tearing open the door before he can drive off. “Wait! Sorry, I’ll get in. I can’t stand another minute in this rain.”

The window slides up, and he sets the car in motion after you’ve buckled up, easing back into the flow of traffic smoothly. Now that you’re sitting there with the AC blowing cool air at your face, you shudder. Oh, how wonderful it must feel to be in clothes that are warm and untouched by the rain. In his peripheral, Sian catches your shivering form, and he switches the AC from cold air to hot. You might not dry as quick as one would hope, but at least it’s something.

The silence is utterly tense. You almost expect him to bicker with you like he did in the past. Instead, he’s focused on the winding road ahead. Though you don’t miss the pink hue that tints his cheeks and gradually rises to his ears.

“So,” you say, if only to get a conversation going. “How’s work?”

“Fine, I guess. How did you know who I was?”

“My friend Youssef.”

“Oh.”

“You probably don’t know me. I’m (Name).”

“I already know.”

“Really? Stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker!” he exclaims, glaring hard at the windshield. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re always so loud at our company parties. How can anyone ignore that?” Sian then proceeds to bless your ears with a story from this year’s holiday party. A few departments got together and went out for drinks and karaoke. Naturally, you had a drinking contest with your colleagues, which led to a tipsy night of bad singing and stumbling from one bar to the next. You were surprised Sian remembered that, mainly because you couldn’t recall seeing him there. And it’s been months since that rowdy night. “Do you see my point?”

“Don’t remind me. That hangover hurt my soul.”

He quirks a smile at that. “It’s not flattering when you sing high notes in the wrong key.”

“Like you could do any better.”

“I can because I was sober.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, gazing out at the scenery that passes by in a blur of dull colors. Without meaning to, you eye Sian’s reflection in the window, taking note of his side profile. He’s actually quite handsome when he’s calm and not acting so stubborn. “I guess we’re even now.”

“Even?”

“I spilled coffee on you, and you splashed me when your tires hit that puddle.”

“Am I supposed to buy you clothes now?”

“If you’re offering...”

“I wasn’t offering!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a spare uniform in my locker.”

I wasn’t worried to begin with, you coffee idiot, Sian thinks, gripping the steering wheel. He keeps track of your occasional trembling, and he can’t help but feel troubled. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry off soon. Suddenly, he regrets pulling up beside you and accidentally sending water flying in your direction. This time it was definitely his fault, wasn’t it? Sian wants to make it up to you, but it’s impossible. He’ll die of embarrassment before he succeeds in performing a good deed in front of you.

Truthfully, he’s always noticed you. The very first instance was last year at the company’s drinking party. You were glued to Youssef’s side, engaging in idle chatter with him and another guy he wasn’t too familiar with. At the time, Sian thought your behavior was obnoxious. No one wants their younger coworker clinging to them. It just made you look like an attention-seeking puppy. Although you were definitely upbeat at that party. He had watched you chug an entire pint of beer like it was nothing and then join in on a pointless game of Ten Fingers with enough energy to put a child to shame.

He thought you were annoying at first, and yet there was something captivating about your personality. He’d never had the guts to approach you outright, so when he ran into you that day all of his frustrations just spilled over. He was angry at himself for not having the courage to talk to you at every company party, and now that he had a chance he couldn’t think of what to say. He hadn’t mentally prepared anything! So he said the first thing that came to his mind, which passed through his unfiltered lips in a very abrupt manner.

But you didn’t show any fear. You hardly flinched. Instead you met his words with a few of your own, and that’s what ruffled Sian’s feathers. You were so good at communication, and he was very much unskilled, usually relying on phrases he prepared in his head. It’s not like he couldn’t talk. He could when he was interested in a certain subject or whenever he was reading from a page, but in front of someone he admired... Sian knew he’d make a fool of himself.

Now that you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, he has every opportunity to say what he wants. Yet the words scramble in his brain, and he can’t calm his racing heart. Before he can think of anything witty, the building comes into view, and the parking garage has never seemed so dismal. Sian’s kicking himself as he parks, disappointed with how he handled that situation.

“Thanks for this. I’ll go on ahead.” You unbuckle, holding your briefcase and squeezing water from your blazer. “I’m sorry if I got your seat wet.”

“It’s...fine.”

You’re going to walk away and then he’ll become the coffee idiot. He opens his mouth to say something that’ll stop you, but you turn around at the right moment.

“Let’s get coffee sometime in the future. You deserve it after all the trouble I gave you,” you propose, smiling earnestly. And I feel guilty for my initial judgement. Youssef was right.

Sian’s eyes widen, and he struggles to remain stoic. “Oh, uh...”

“That’s okay with you, right?”

“I guess. Whatever works for you.” He shrugs.

“Great!” You retrieve a pen from your case and close the distance between the two of you. Humming, you snatch his hand, spreading his fingers so that his palm is wide open. And then you scribble something on it, grinning in satisfaction. Sian stares at you the entire time, his face blank and head filled with static. “Text me the days you’re available. See you later!” You tuck the pen away, hastily dashing in the direction of the elevator.

Sian stands there for a moment, slack-jawed. He forces himself to look down at his hand. Your number is written on his skin in smudged ink. His face erupts in a flurry of red. That coffee idiot...

------

“It’s not a date,” Sian mutters as he walks to the café. “It’s not. Stop thinking that way.”

But maybe it is a date, the voice in the back of his mind whispers, goading him into believing so. He dressed as casually as possible, but he still hopes it’ll impress you. There are plenty of fears that flood his head, and he almost turns around as soon as he gets to the entrance. But he’s come this far, and he’d regret it forever if he left now. This might be his only chance; he can’t afford to pass it up. So he pushes open the door in search of you. It doesn’t take long to locate your form amongst the few who are inside. Sian’s pulse rushes into overdrive, and he clenches his jaw.

It’s not a date. Act natural.

You look up from your phone just as he slides into the seat across from you. A warm smile blossoms across your face, and you tuck your mobile away. “Sian, you made it! I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“It’d be rude if I didn’t show up after you made all those plans.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Well, thank you. Now I won’t have to feel bad about Monday morning.”

You had felt bad? Sian’s cheeks must be burning intensely bright now, but there’s nothing he can do. “It’s your fault for being an idiot.”

You chuckle. “That makes two of us. One idiot ignored the forecast, and the other wasn’t watching where he was going.”

“Whatever. Just so we’re clear, I’m not as stupid as you.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “And you don’t have any taste. I mean, iced coffee? Really?”

“It’s good!” you insist. “You’re missing out. Everyone knows iced coffee is better than hot coffee.”

“Is it now? I don’t agree with that statistic.”

“You’re allowed to have your own opinion, Mr. Sian,” you tease. “Give me your drink order. I’ll go get it.”

“What? No way. I’ll pay.”

“As if! I’m treating you.”

“You already bought me clothes.”

“And now I’m going to buy you coffee. It’s to say thanks for picking me up during that storm.”

“I would’ve left you on that sidewalk if I knew you were going to make it a hassle now!”

“Just accept my kindness!”

Sian shuts his mouth, giving into your demand. He grumbles his order, and you’re very happy as you make your way towards the register to get the two of you drinks and pastries. He watches as you pay, releasing a soft sigh. It’s hard to say no to someone you’ve admired for so long. Sian’s not sure when he started to like you, but he’s certain these recent interactions have only added fuel to the burning fire residing in his heart. It’s embarrassing to think he’s even on a romantic outing with you, but it’s not like the two of you are close friends. So then what does that make this?

When you return to the window table, setting down the drinks and a plate with two strawberry bread puddings, he’s shaken from his daydreams. This is actually happening. It’s not just another fantasy he’s imagined while witnessing you drink your sanity away at parties.

“I’m not sure if you like strawberries, but I—“

“I guess it’s okay,” he interrupts, trying to hide the fact that he actually likes it very much.

“Good!” You ease into your chair. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.”

He raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip from his latte. “Huh.”

“You seemed really upset when I spilled my coffee on you. But anyone would be, so it’s completely understandable. I thought you hated me because of that. When we saw each other again, you were pretty sensitive.”

“I’m not sensitive!” he snaps, proving your point. “That was a white shirt you ruined.”

“Will you feel better if you dump coffee on me?”

“What? Why would I do that? I’m not going to do something as petty as that!”

“Aw, so you do care.”

“I don’t. Get lost.”

You break out into a laughing fit, genuinely amused at his coldness. Even if he doesn’t want to show it, he’s quite nice, and you’re relieved that he didn’t turn out to be a bully seeking revenge. Then again, it’s been weeks since that incident.

“It’s not funny!”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so expressive. It’s hard not to laugh.”

A furious red darkens his face, and he decides to fumble with his fork in order to give his hands something to do. The bread pudding is surprisingly delicious. He fumes in his embarrassment while he eats.

Eventually, the two of you converse about work and that project your department took on. Sian listens to your rambling as you go on and on about how irksome it is when last-minute changes are made to a finalized draft. He enjoys every story you tell him, and by the time the plate is empty he feels as if he’s grown closer with you. Could this be the beginning of a friendship? He’s hit with a sudden wave of inspiration for lyrics that will never be sung. At least they can fester on a page in his notebook, where he’ll return on countless occasions to proofread and debate over the meaning of each line. Oh, how he’d love to share his music with you. It’ll take a while before he does something as bold as that, though.

“I just got an idea! There’s this awesome bar thirty minutes from work. I usually go with my friends because they’ve got a bunch of games you can play. Board games, card games—you name it. We should go one of these days.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah! You seem like a fun guy to hang out with. Card games might sound boring, but they’re actually really fun when you’re playing for money. And when you’ve got a few drinks in your system.”

Sian struggles to hide the giddy smile that threatens to split his lips. “No... It sounds perfect. I’m actually really good at Slapjack, so be prepared to lose miserably!”

“Is that a challenge? What should we wager?”

"How about a meal? Loser has to pay for the winner’s lunch.”

“All right. It’s a deal. I’ll keep you updated on my schedule so that we can choose a weekend to meet up.”

“Sure!” Sian’s face won’t stop heating up and he can’t slow his erratic heartbeat. “I mean, I’ll only do it so I can get a free lunch. It’s not like I’m agreeing for your sake.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever floats your boat.”

His chest feels airy and light, almost as if he’s in a dream. Your words weigh on his conflicted heart. How can anyone make plans so easily? If the roles were reversed, he’d be an absolute mess. It’d be so embarrassing; Sian would probably want to curl up and disappear if he ever tried to ask you out on his own volition. You probably don’t even feel the same way. After all, this is merely two coworkers having a normal conversation. But he can’t get stuck in the friend zone. That’d be the worst outcome to all of this. So in the meantime he’ll do his best to act cordial. He can hide his shy demeanor and fluffy feelings behind a blunt attitude.

“All of this planning makes it seem like we’re a couple,” you muse with flirtatious intent. Leaning back in your chair, you gauge Sian’s reaction. Just as you figured, he’s turning crimson. It’s honestly endearing to see him get so flustered. “What do you think, Sian?”

“I... I don’t know. Don’t say stupid things! It’s really annoying.”

No matter how sharp his words are, you know he doesn’t mean it. After all, his expression clearly refutes those claims.

“Sian and (Name), sitting in a tree—“

“Shut up!”

If this isn’t a date, then what’s with all the flirting?

Sian’s going to have to take a cold shower when he gets home to lower his body temperature. And to scrub away the embarrassment that’s washed over him like rain.

It’s not a date. It’s just coffee with an acquaintance. Yeah. Just courtesy coffee.

He couldn’t be any further from the truth.

#after l!fe #afterl!fe #afterl!fe sian #afterl!fe x reader #afterl!fe the sacred kaleidoscope #afterl!fe sian x reader #sian x reader #oneshot

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