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wroteonedad · 2 years

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Body Poetics Review

Writing about art is difficult. Especially when you live in a town that doesn't have much art, you work full time and you also can't drive. It makes me feel as though I am restricted to the amount of inspiration around me I can find, unfortunately Bournemouth pier just really isn't doing it for me anymore. I love to be on the move, I love to see new places, but I feel as though I am never going to find the place that I want to be settled into forever. Or the place I want to go to is going to be too expensive and that I may as well just flush that dream down the toilet. And did I mention that the cost of living crisis is also making it even harder to be able to go out and explore anymore, that is on the odd occasion that the trains are even running at the moment.

It feels as though I wait for the one gallery to open up their new exhibition before I wander in and end up reviewing every show that they do, except for Martin Parr. I really don't think there was much to say about his work other than it's pretty and they're of beaches. This show, also presented by the wonderful Giant gallery, is called Body Poetics. I was reluctant to go to this show at first, and you want to know the real reason why I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it? It was because I hated the main piece that is advertised on all of the posters of the show, at first glance it essentially just looks like a furry wearing a winter outfit, I hate it. I'm not judging people who say it's their thing, but it really just isn't for me. I decided to give the show a chance anyway, though I had no idea what I was going to ultimately end up saying about it.

The show has been curated by a group of 9 different female artists from across the world. Most of the deeper meaning behind these works is feminist theory from the 70s and 80s and all of these works available to feast your eyes on are made from the 70s and onwards. The works also feature many contemporary values to what it means to be a feminist.

Upon general entry into the gallery, one of the first things I saw was Carolee Schneemann's Eye Body works. It features the idea of the social construction of the female / femme or queer body. The selection of works on the wall all featured different positionings of the body surrounded by materials; all of which discussed pain, suffering, political protest as well as joy and sexual expression. I for one was a huge fan of the collection of images on the wall, there are 4 different images. This one in particular is my favourite because it reminds me of a still you would see from a horror movie in the 60s. The way in which to see an image like this in the 60s would be terrifying, enough to make the film only available for an adult audience. I think it's visually fantastic and perhaps one of the stronger pieces from the show in my eyes, this is purely based around the fact there is little to no photography featured in the show and although I love art from every medium, I still feel as though I am drawn to photography the most.

This piece is Rite of Spring by Florence Peake. Her collection of works also feature the same themes as Schneemann when it comes to female / femme and queer attitudes of representation. I loved this piece from all of the colours it contained as well as the texture of it. I am obsessed with textures that have been edited as the piece has been curated overtime and think it really adds an extra depth of field to it. However, and this is not down to the artist, but rather the gallery. When I posted an image of this on my Instagram story a few days ago, I actually managed to tag the wrong artist in the post. This is due to the signs of the works being very unclear in the work. The list talks about two artists body of works, one being hers, but the sign simply named the work and wrote (opposite) on it while also displaying another list of works near the piece itself. It made the show very difficult to navigate and I apologise to Peake for giving another artist credit for the work.

The work above is Untitled (Hands Waving) by Kiki Smith. I feel like this work stuck out to me in the gallery space because it feels very simple in comparison to a lot of the complex works I saw in there; and sometimes it makes me feel bad because I don't look at everything in the space and immediately know what the deeper meaning behind the work is. This is a piece that I feel like I could stand there and look at for quite some time, it stuck out on the back wall full of eccentric colours and deep meanings, but this piece made me just want to wave back at her. I want to feel what she feels here. I love the focus on the hands, I think people can forget how expressive hands can be. How important they are, I don't want to sound fake deep and be like we take them for granted, but I do feel as though we forget how much we actually can do with them.

I think that Kiki Smith's work was some of my favourite pieces on show in the gallery. The other piece is a ceiling to floor length tapestry with star constellations and crescent moons titled Visitor (Stars, multiple crescent moons). In a way, I feel as though both pieces of work she displayed in the gallery really interlink with each other in opposing ways. The pieces all feel simple, with their matching colour schemes and dainty details all visible to the eye from afar. This piece in particular feels very feminine, the glitter, the stars in general, and like I said before the dainty details. It adds a whole new level of feminism to a piece of work without being an in your face piece of 'this is feminism'

TW: the pieces I hated the most in the gallery.

I was complaining on my story when I saw the show that I was so upset that they chose to use this model as the poster image for the show because every piece of work I saw in the gallery was so much better than this. Perhaps it's harsh to say this, but I feel as though this set of work felt like a whole waste of space, but I just hate it. I really hate it. The work is by Ad Minoliti who is all about the use of abstract forms of art to explore social aspects of the body and gendered experience. I see it I really do, I just hate that they chose to display a full blown furry. Perhaps that was the point, for it to hold a discussion, to use something so bold on the poster to advertise the show that it made people feel something. Enough to come to the show to see what it looked like up close. Maybe I'm being closed minded when I look at this, but I will simply just be walking straight past it next time I come to the show. On the other hand, some of the canvas works submitted by the artists were bright, bold and super eye catching. These were works I enjoyed to look at a lot more.

This piece was the one I enjoyed the most by the artist. This is Queer Modulor and it slayed.

I gotta say though, this is the bad boy that stole the entire show for me. This sculpture slowly rotates in circles and is literally full of surprises. Not only do we get the sculpture, but there's also a fun accompanying drawing of it in the gallery (I'm really sorry I don't want to post every detail of this show, but I urge everyone to go to this). This piece is by Rae-Yen Song and is called happy little leaf.

Next up is Guerilla Girls with Birth of Feminism. The group are very well known for their loud and outspoken media to discuss issues with being a woman and so it only made sense for them to be apart of the show. The poster adds an extra level of overall comedy to the end project.

Holly Steveson

Overall, I think the show is really fun. There's a bunch of outstanding forms of media and installation works and it's so nice to see a big artist collaboration in the space, a space that works really well for the works they are exhibiting. The only thing is I feel there is not much discussion to have with all of the works, rather they are good pieces by good artists and that is all that is left to say on the matter.

Body Poetics is on at Giant Gallery until 8 May 2023.

#giant gallery #body poetics #guerilla girls #art review #writing #exhibition review

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coal15 · 1 year

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**whew** so after a long day of basically nonstop writing and editing, I've got Ch.7 of All Roads Lead Back posted. The Chapter is titled No Other Gods Before Me, and here's a small teaser:

Aziraphale paces back and forth waiting for the massive amphitheater to fill up. Delegations of several hundred Angels from each department, all subdepartment managers or management teams as well as another several hundred voluntary attendees from the lower ranks. It adds up to a crowd of well over a thousand. The Supreme Archangel makes a great show of eager impatience as everyone files in and shuffles about in search of a place to sit. When it seems everyone has settled in he waits a few more minutes to account for stragglers before doing a miracle to amplify his voice and begin his speech.

Please let this go according to plan, he prays to a God who may or may not be able to hear him. Either way, the prayer calms his nerves. As it always does. The way a small human child will cling to their favourite stuffed toy or blanket in times of stress, prayer plays a similar role in Aziraphale’s life. Right, no more gadding about. Time to do this . . .

“Is everyone seated? Comfortable? Lovely. So I am sure you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here to such a large assembly. Well my Angels, I have been getting reports of rumblings, quiet frustrations in our ranks. And questions.” (not one such question had been reported to him by anyone but Muriel of course, but he, they, and Crowley agreed it was a smart bet to assume Muriel was not alone in harbouring such sinful curiosities) “As such, I thought this would be a good time for a . . . well, I suppose you could call it a pep rally!” He says with a wide, cheery smile. “To make sure we’re all on the same page and fired up about the Great Plan. We should be excited! But we also must remember our roles and serve faithfully each and every day. And to work in harmony. As a team. Now then, for our first team building exercise we-”

Crowley storms in through the stage entrance just to Aziraphale's left dragging Muriel along by the arm. "SUPREME ARCHANGEL!" He rages.

Aziraphale spins around in mock surprise. Magnificent! He thinks. Both of his co-conspirators are thus far doing an amazing job with their end of the show. Crowley seething with anger and Muriel looking for all the world like they are struggling to remain defiant in the face of terrible fear.

“Sorry to interrupt your thing but this is urgent. And quite frankly they-” he gives Muriel’s arm a hard jerk- “deserve a good public shaming for what they've done before you discorporate them.”

“A shaming? Discorporate?” Aziraphale hopes his play at bafflement is up to par. “There must be some sort of mistake, Muriel is one of our most loyal servants. Not terribly important, but loyal.”

“Oh really?” Crowley yanks a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and waves in the air. “I found this in their quarters when I popped by for a visit. Seeing as they vouched for my good character when we returned to Heaven I thought we were close.” He glares down at Muriel and says with a bitter snarl, “I thought we were friends!” He shoves the paper into Aziraphale’s chest and steps back, still tugging Muriel along for the ride.

Aziraphale gasps, looking from the paper to the audience and back again. It is important for all to sense his shock and horror. “It’s a whole list of, of-”

“Questions!” Crowley cuts him off. “Exactly. And some of them are outright treasonous.”

“Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear.” Aziraphale shakes his head mournfully. Perhaps I missed my calling as an actor . . .

“Look at the ninth question down!”

Aziraphale clears his throat and reads aloud: ‘does God make mistakes or have regrets?’”

Gasps and mutterings ripple through the packed amphitheater.

*******To read from the beginning, go HERE

#aziracrow #ineffeble husbands #good omens #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman #in which Muriel continues to badass like a badass #and the ineffable husbands are the best team EVER #I LOVE WRITING THIS FIC!!!!!

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autumnalwalker · 2 years

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Empty Names - 2 - Back From The Looking Glass

Author's Note: The second chapter rough draft and second core cast intro for Empty Names. The previous chapter can be found here. Masterpost with table of contents here. Word Count: 3,043 Content Warnings: Violence/combat in the form of a wizard duel. What might qualify as mild body horror as a part of said wizard duel. Frostbite. Probably nothing in here that would be worse than a PG-13 rating. Once again, if anyone reads this and sees something that I should have included a content warning for, let me know and I'll go back and add it. Here goes my first attempt at writing a fight scene.

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

“I hate anime,” Ashan grumbles to himself for the second time that day.

No, that was not quite fair. He had some vague recollection of enjoying some show or another as a child. What was it called again? Something with magic cards and a girl on roller skates. An interesting concept for quick casting of spells, but unlikely to be practical with its reliance on bound spirits. There was also the one with the talking hamsters. That one had been fun.

Perhaps it is not so much anime itself as anime conventions that bother him. Even after being back on the world of his birth for a few years now, he is still not used to the sheer density of the crowds. And the novelty of convention goers stopping to ask him who he is supposed to be wears thin quickly. Even worse are the ones who mistake him for a favorite character and ask for a picture. And while he is used to being mistaken for a woman - and even finds amusement in it so long as the mistake is not repeated after correction - the well-intended compliments mistaking his white robes for a dress are beginning to test his patience.

All that is secondary though to the fact that such concentrated escapism and suspension of disbelief makes for a Masquerade breach waiting to happen. Coupled with the sheer number of cosplayers making it easy for outsiders to blend in, it was no wonder that there is nearly always an incident at these events.

An incident like one in one hundred event pamphlets listing an event in a room that the other ninety-nine in one hundred mark as not being in use.

At last, he finally extracts himself from yet another group wanting a photo - this one with costumes unsettlingly similar to his own raiment - and waves them off with a practiced smile. Almost always best to play along and blend in. Alone in the crowd once more, he double-checks the pamphlet.

Room 322. 2:00pm. Get Isekai’d!: An interactive panel to kickstart your magical journey to another world (without being hit by a truck).

Just around the corner and several minutes to spare yet.

Turning said corner feels like stepping into a new building. Empty and unadorned, save for two doors flanking the terminus of a dead end hallway. Through some quirk of acoustics the constant background noise of the crowd fades to a distant murmur after only a few steps down the hall. Even the lighting is perceptibly dimmer without the floor-to-ceiling windows of the main concourse. Room 322 has no sign outside to proclaim the event yet the door remains cracked open enough to catch a glimpse of the small audience already seated inside.

After a quick glance to verify no one else is coming down the hall, Ashan stretches to touch a finger to the top of the doorframe and begins tracing esoteric symbols. Wherever he touches, the surface takes on a glassy sheen.

Tapping the center of his work a final time, his breath mists in the air as he makes a quick chant with no literal translation. The drawn symbols shimmer in response then fade, now invisible to the untrained eye.

He blinks, observes his ward, finds it satisfactory, and rubs some warmth back into his hands before stepping into the room.

The room is a small one by convention standards. Only a few dozen plastic chairs lined up facing a small stage set against the far wall. Less than half the chairs are occupied, making for a lower attendance than Ashan had feared. Good. Fewer people to worry about getting hurt.

Up on stage a tall man in a turtleneck that strains against his bodybuilder proportions paces in front of a freestanding wooden door with a polished white stone inset into the top of its frame. The stage rattles with the weight of his every step. As Ashan takes a seat near the front the presenter checks his phone then walks over to a podium with a laptop. A projector comes to life and throws the title of the panel across a screen next to the stage.

As the presentation begins, Ashan only halfway pays attention to the words being said or the slides on the screen. Watching for signs of hostile spells and workings takes up too much of his focus for that. And besides, the history and greatest hits of a genre about normal people going on adventures in other worlds can only hold so much interest for one who has actually lived it. Although in his experience the real thing involved significantly fewer women of dubious proportions in impractical and revealing outfits.

Twenty minutes into the scheduled hour-long panel, Ashan begins to wonder if this is simply a case of a magically-inclined nerd using his abilities to skip out on paying the panel booking fees. True, the presenter’s body is obviously modified, but it would hardly be the first time a new mage transmuted himself in an ill-conceived attempt at “improvement,” and he has not really done anything incriminating yet. Still, the “interactive” portion of the panel’s title is worrisome and the door’s function remains forebodingly elusive.

“Show of hands: who here wishes you could get away from this life and start over as a hero in a new world?”

The sight and sound of a score of hands going up around him jolts Ashan’s focus back to the speaker’s words.

“Well then, do I have the chance of a lifetime in store for all of you.” The presenter saunters over to the door in the center of the stage and leans on the frame. A murmur of anticipation goes through the crowd. With a theatrical flourish, the presenter knocks four times and the door swings inward.

The door does not come out from the backside of the frame.

On the other side of the doorway everyone in the audience can see a trail coming out of a forest and meandering over rolling grassy hills. A castle can be seen in the far distance, white walls gleaming in the sunlight. A breeze blows into the room carrying the scent of flowers.

Several people gasp. Others start whispering, asking what is going on. Someone starts clapping at what they think to be a clever trick.

“Yes, yes, it’s amazing, I know,” the presenter says. “And to answer the question I’m sure you’re all asking yourselves right now,” he steps in front of the door and begins walking backwards, “this is very real.” To drive the point home he steps to the right, disappearing out of sight entirely before coming back into view from the left before coming back through the door and walking a circle around it on stage.

“So, who wants to go first?” he asks with a smug grin.

Hands shoot up. Chairs get pushed back as audience members jump to their feet. The questions of what is going on get louder. A couple of people with stronger survival instincts start edging toward the door.

Ashan sighs, gets to his feet, and calmly climbs onto stage before any of the over-eager fools can beat him to it.

“Now that’s what I like to see!” the presenter says as Ashan approaches the door. “Can I have your name miss…ter?”

“My name is mine to keep,” he replies, “but perhaps you would not mind answering a few questions? I imagine it would set the rest of the audience at ease to know more precisely what awaits them.”

“I’d be delighted. Although I assure you all that this is perfectly safe.”

“As we saw with your demonstration, I am sure.” Threshold wards rarely affect their casters. “But what about language? Will we be able to understand the people we meet on the other side?”

“Obviously. The portal auto-magically applies the standard multiversal translator spell used by all travelers. Would you believe I’m not even speaking English right now?”

“Fascinating.” Ashan mentally runs through the signs of the seven different translation practices common in this local cluster that he can recall off the top of his head. This man is showing none of them. “And what of the Autogenesis Principle? Do you have any advice for those here wanting to escape their failures from physically manifesting their own internalized inadequacies?”

The presenter’s smirk falters. “I’m not sure what fandom you’re roleplaying at right now, but that’s not anything anyone here needs to worry about. So either go on through or get out of the way so everyone else can get their adventure underway.”

“Just one more question, if you would kindly humor me.” Ashan places a hand on the doorframe and closes his eyes for a moment. He opens them and asks “Does this essence siphon function on infernal or necromantic principles?”

The presenter’s smile disappears altogether. “How did you - ”

“Necromantic then. I cannot imagine a patron willing to aid a novice who would fail to even recognize another mage in this blunder of a Masquerade breach.”

The necromancer regains his composure and shrugs. “Okay, you got me. But hey,” he snaps his fingers and spikes of bone erupt from the floor, barring the mundane exit from the room, “it’s not a Masquerade breach if the witnesses are all dead. So what do you say we split the haul seventy-thirty and you look the other way.”

The room goes silent for a moment before the dawning realization of the situation finally breaks and the audience starts shouting and rushing the barred exit, trying in vain to escape. Except, of course, for the handful of stubborn skeptics mocking them for freaking out.

Ashan looks at the crowd pressing themselves into the bars of bone and makes a tsk sound. He should have noticed that on his way in. Returning his gaze to the necromancer he says “I shall never understand people like you.”

“Fine, sixty-forty and that’s the best you’re getting unless you wanna help me herd the sheep in here.”

“I shall never understand those who believe the possession of knowledge and power makes the lives of those without expendable.”

The necromancer begins to back up. “So that’s how it is, huh? Fancy yourself some kind of hero?”

“No one has yet been hurt. I shall give you one chance to leave now and never try this again.”

“How very generous of you,” the necromancer replies. The words drip with sarcasm and venom. “With an offer like that I can only say…” he reaches the edge of the stage. “Get boned!”

The surface of the stage splinters and cracks. With a flick of the wrist Ashan has his pearlescent wand in hand. An ivory spear hurtles up at him from below. A quick looping motion with the wand and a transparent shield appears in the air. The spear is deflected through the portal. As are the next three after. Ashan follows up with drawing another, larger shield over the door. It would not do to fall in himself.

That precaution proves timely as the necromancer lets out a bellow of pain and rage and his right arm explodes into a tendril of muscle and bony spikes that darts across the stage before slamming into Ashan’s side. He manages to get his free hand up, palm out, in time to keep the tendril from making direct contact but now finds himself squeezed between two of his own barriers. Stabbing the wand into the barrier holding back the tendril he wills his conjuration away and up. The tendril swings away from him and out over the heads of the audience before retracting back into a semblance of an arm.

The audience is screaming now. Even the most skeptical have been made believers. The bars on the door still hold. Ashan’s breath mists in the air grown cold around him.

The necromancer wastes no words as he charges the wizard. As he runs, his other arm shreds its sleeve as it bulks up and grows talons over its fingers. A morbid parody of dance ensues back and forth across the stage. The necromancer rains down crushing blows and Ashan casually deflects them with shields that flicker in and out of existence. More spikes erupt from below and Ashan gracefully sidesteps. The necromancer’s face twists in rage and Ashan’s remains placid.

Eventually, the necromancer grows frustrated with this game and changes tactics. He extends the tendril of his right arm once more, sending it plunging toward the one audience member still seated. Ashan makes a slashing motion with the wand followed by an upward flick and a wall of what looks like glass rises to cut the stage off from the rest of the room. The tendril crumples on itself as it slams into the newmade wall.

The fact that the seated man in the yellow vest did not so much as flinch at nearly being impaled distracts Ashan enough that the followup swipe from the left claw manages to graze his cheek. Enough playing around to wear the brute down then.

Wielding his wand like a brush, Ashan visualizes the chains running from the floor to the necromancer’s limbs and then paints them into being. The next blow comes to a rattling halt midair. The necromancer has just enough time to look at his wrist in surprise before Ashan makes another gesture and the chains pull him down, forcing him to his knees.

“You have lost,” Ashan says in an even tone. He is no longer the only person in the room whose breath is condensing into mist. Every surface in the room now bears dewdrops from the rapid drop in temperature over the past few minutes. Ashan resists the urge to shiver before continuing. “And still, no one has been hurt. Come along quietly and I imagine you can still negotiate a lighter sentence than you deserve.”

“Who the hell are you? Some kind of cop?” The necromancer pants heavily, pausing for breath between sentences. “How did you even know I was here? And why is it so damn cold in here?”

Ashan cocks his head at finally hearing a question from the novice mage he might deign to answer. “Tis but a slight twisting of thermodynamics. Absent a local concept for ambient energy such as aether or mana, one must needs improvise. Only the inexperienced and the foolhardy draw from their own metabolism,” Ashan nods toward his shaking opponent, “as you seem to be.”

“Oh really…”

“Indeed. Although I would not advise such a technique to the untrained.”

“Cocky bastard, bragging about your secret techniques when you think you’ve won.” Frost begins to form on the stage around the necromancer.

“It is hardly a secret. And really, you should not attempt it. Especially in your current state.”

“You know.”

The spikes of bone scattered about the stage begin to shake.

“Where you.”

The necromancer begins shivering violently.

“Can take your advice.”

The spikes rise into the air.

“And shove it?”

The spikes all turn to face Ashan.

“‘Cause I’m about to show you!”

The spikes begin to move in on Ashan, gathering speed.

The necromancer falls over with a thud and the spikes clatter harmlessly to the stage. Ashan walks over to him and notes the white and blue patches of frostbite covering the fallen man’s skin. He bends down and checks for a pulse. He finds one. Unconscious, but alive. Beginner’s luck.

Ashan stands back up, exhales, lets his remaining conjurations dissipate, and allows himself to shiver.

A slow clap from the sole remaining audience member disrupts his reverie.

Wait. Sole remaining? When did the screaming stop? Where did everyone go? He whips around to see the man in the yellow vest leaning against the wall next to the exit door. The bars of bone now lay shattered on the ground.

“You certainly live up to your reputation, Ashan Glassheart.” The man stops clapping and looks around the ruined stage. “Well, maybe a little more collateral damage than I expected, but credit where credit is due, the rookie knew what he was doing with stashing unenchanted raw material for his trap.” He pauses to stroke his goatee in consideration. “Or maybe just dumb luck on his part.”

“Do I know you?” Ashan asks.

“I should hope not,” the man replies. “I try to keep out of the spotlight. The name’s Sullivan Bridgewood. At my service.” He gives a flourishing bow as makes the introduction.

“I thought the sorceress Bridgewood was a woman.”

“That would be my dearly departed wife, Void rest her soul.”

“My condolences, but that still does not explain what you want with me.”

Bridgewood puts a hand to his chest and feigns an offended gasp. “So suspicious. And after I helped and set all the normies free while you were giving your lecture. Nice job on the amnestic ward by the way. Always fun to watch them go from running for their lives to milling about confused.”

“You are avoiding the question.”

“Oh, lighten up will you, I’m getting to that.” He walks over to the stage and leans an elbow on it, looking up at Ashan. “Have you ever heard of the individual known as Road?”

Ashan arches an eyebrow in surprise. “The guy who runs around in purple armor fighting subway dragons and saving goth kids from vampire cults?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“From what I have heard they are a noble fool who just happens to be skilled and lucky enough to back up their reckless actions. But a fool whose heart is in the right place. Supposedly they used to be a big deal before disappearing several years ago.” Ashan stops himself and gets back to the still unanswered question. “Why?”

Bridgewood chuckles. “Because,” he drags out the word, “said noble fool just so happens to be an old friend of mine and recently got back to town. They’re looking to put a team together and could use a proper spellslinger.” He smiles just a little too widely and reaches up a hand. “So, interested?”

Ashan feels a shiver go down his back that is only partially related to the cold.

“Help me clean up in here and get this villain to the authorities in Crossherd and I shall consider it.”

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

#writing #original fiction #urban fantasy #Writeblr #WIP #Empty Names #serial fiction #writing practice #writers on tumblr #creative writing #literature #prose #writers #web novel #novel #fantasy #fiction #my writing #emptynameswriting

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mysmashplaythroughs · 3 months

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Itsa me, Emio!

Thought I had to make that joke whilst it's still relevant given we don't know what that surprising unusual for Nintendo teaser is about. My personal guess that I doubt is right but differs from everyone thinking it's a horror game is it's actually a new Famicom Detective game. Given an age rating from New Zealand mentions a fair few mature themes it's possible for it to be horror of course, but I equally feel like an argument could still be made for FDC, especially given the whole 'Who is Emio' thing. We'll have to wait and see. Anyway, beyond that the biggest news for this blog is THE MELEE ROSTER IS FINALLY COMPLETE! Yes over a year after I said I hoped to have it finished soon I've finally written Roy and Mr Game & Watch's entries. I have no idea how soon I'll either start on Meta Knight, perhaps do another Pokemon entry (for Gen 2) or maybe even try something totally new and start writing posts about stages, Assist Trophies or Background Characters.

When it comes to the list, I don't believe anyone out there actually checks it constantly but if you did you might notice oddly that there's a few games I've had in the 'completed' section for ages now at the top of the list. If you see which ones they are you also might have picked up on there having been ports/remakes of these games that have come out on Switch so yeah, I decided since these are often better versions with new content and I got them I might as well put them back on the list in order to play them, not to mention in a lot of cases they'll allow me to easily get screenshots I couldn't before (such as with Metroid Prime HD). Also if you remember my last off-topic post you might notice that Tales of Symphonia is still on the list, yes I didn't finish it yet, but I promise I've made a lot of progress. Without going into spoilers I feel confident in saying I've definitely reached the halfway point of the game. I had two big things which brought that playthrough to a halt, the first was I went away to another country for a few weeks and the second was Paper Mario the Thousand Year Door came out, and of all games as much as I love doing this whole thing, I wasn't going to overlook a remake of my joint second favourite game of all time, the same thing would be the case if I got the last few of my top 10 that aren't on Switch released, such as Punch-out Wii, Kid Icarus Uprising or possibly Pokemon Gen 2. I have been able to get new screenshots with Paper Mario Thousand Year Door so it wasn't completely unconnected to my list anyway.

There've also been some new additions to my list, I'm always coming up with really stupid reasons that barely count to add things to my list and I realised something a while ago that I hadn't really gone into, that being the codec and Palutena's Guidance easter eggs. Looking through these I really wasn't expecting much, mostly looking for an excuse to do something with one or two characters, but I realised one of the codecs very specifically had a character from Metal Gear Solid 2 referenced and perhaps the biggest thing, Palutena's Guidance for Ryu makes references to a lot of the Marvel vs Capcom series. I decided to add these games to my list although I realised they were going to be very difficult to do, so you can probably guess my surprise and joy with the latest Direct announcing a collection of the series coming to Switch (not to mention I was just really pleased to see it as I know the series has not had many rereleases at all including I believe one or two games that never left arcades) so that really worked out well. Speaking of the Direct there was a lot of really great looking stuff announced there. Of what was shown the only game I felt was for sure going on my list was the Legend of Zelda Echoes of Wisdom. The reason is fairly simple for this, not that Zelda is playable as actually I don't think the Zelda in this game really matches any specifically from Smash Bros, but the ability to create Echoes of enemies is the closest to having Zelda enemies playable there's ever been, so that worked out pretty well. Oh and of course, Dragon Quest 1-3 HD is fantastic news for me, I've played through 3 before but the fact this version will actually have the characters appear in battle (no idea how many animations they'll have) is already huge news to me, also from what I've heard 1-2 really didn't age well so having updated versions of them is pretty exciting to me, they both interest me for different reasons (especially 1 being one of the very few RPGs where you don't have any other party members).

So what's next then? Well, when it comes to the games I've moved up my list to play again like Pikmin I think I'll most likely do some of them first, Pikmin is a pretty short game and I've been looking for something I can play whilst listening to other stuff so games I've already beaten would I think be a good choice. However, I want to get at least 3 Mii Costume games finally beaten this year, so I do plan on returning to Tales of Symphonia soon, after that would be Monster Hunter Generations Ultimate, which I have a feeling would also be a long game although it's one where I believe there's a 'final story boss' so to speak outside of the many other Monsters you can hunt in the game etc, so it probably isn't as 'endless' as I feared. Following that would be Tower of Druaga which being an arcade game I believe is a case of it being short but very difficult, luckily also being an arcade game on consoles I believe I'll have unlimited continues so it probably won't take long. In the middle of this some of the other games I mentioned such as Zelda Echoes of Wisdom and Dragon Quest 3 will likely be out so I'm sure I'll play them pretty much on release, the same goes for others not on my list such as Mario & Luigi Brothership (Another huge reveal that I have no reason to put on my list but it's a series I love and thought was dead so I'll definitely be checking out). Between all this of course I have my actual life to live etc, but either way I hope to make more progress than last year, I believe looking at the list I've made of the games I've beaten each year I've already almost beaten 2023's amount so I'm sure I'll manage that. Anyway, here's looking forward to seeing who Emio is and hopefully a good year going forward.

#my smash playthrough #my smash playthroughs #off-topic

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sleepymarmot · 1 year

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Ravenous (1999)

Liveblog

“George, people don’t still do that, do they?” “White man eats the body of Jesus Christ every Sunday.” First of all, laughed out loud. Second, oh so this is why the newcomer looks so Christlike :D

Did he really need to call it “virility” lmao

Was disappointed when Carlyle’s character suddenly became very animalistic

How long did Boyd lie in that forest with a broken bone without food and water? With the blood from the wounds fresh on his face as if no time has passed? And then ate the other guy which implies the meat was fresh? Based on the moon, at first I thought it was almost a month, then realized it should be less because it was close to half a cycle instead of a full cycle, then realized the moon phases were shown backwards anyway. But even if we count backwards it should be about two weeks.

“Perhaps later, you might… contribute [to the stew]” this guy was Hannibal before Hannibal

Thoughts

*checks another Gay Subtext classic off my list*

Surprised to see multiple reviews describe the film’s subject matter as unusual or unmarketable; I guess I’m lucky to live in the same general area of the internet as a bunch of fans of various intersections between “angsty men in a period piece”, “repressed homoeroticism”, and “eating people”.

Full disclosure: I’d been meaning to watch this for years, but the real motivation to pick this specific film out of my watchlist and press play was that I’d decided to watch at least one movie per month, and then missed the entirety of March and was left on the evening of March 31st trying to pick something not too long or too heavy.

Luckily, the vibe turned out to be exactly what I expected. Though I didn’t anticipate how much this film is at once! It’s a comedy, it’s a tragedy, it’s western, it’s horror, it’s romance. There’s a precarious balance between naturalism and camp that I’m not sure I was satisfied with, but the unevenness adds to the unpolished, uncommercialized arthouse aesthetic of the film (fitting for a work about raw meat to feel raw itself!), and the resulting stew is tasty enough that in the end I don’t really care. The ending is so neat that the tragedy feels satisfying rather than heartbreaking (I rewatched it months later while finishing this review, and was grinning from ear to ear), and the overall story manages to be simultaneously refreshingly straightforward and thematically rich (lots to chew on! ba dum tsh).

Other people are better equipped to write about the political themes of the film (or its treatment of Native American characters and folklore) than I am, but I was surprised and impressed by the scene near the end that textually compares cannibalism to colonialist expansion, and then, without a pause, makes cannibalism stand for homosexuality in subtext so strong that it’s almost text, that I have to forcibly remind myself that these lines could possibly be about anything other than the protagonist’s repressed attraction to men in general and the antagonist specifically.

Special shout outs to the Christian imagery and how well it works with the themes, and to Michael Nyman and Damon Albarn’s work on the soundtrack (I remember how months or years ago I first learned who wrote music for the niche gay cannibal movie I’d seen mentioned from time to time, and did a double take). And the final shout out — to the Native American final girl.

#ravenous #liveblogs and reviews #blah blah blah #only one paragraph this time!#i guess i don't have controversial opinions about this one and don't feel the need to argue with anybody or explain why i disagree #edit: decided to break it into multiple paragraphs after all for better readability

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aspiring-interpreter · 1 year

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Check-in 2: Another textbook/workbook

A much briefer post today, because I just posted recently. I've finished the second chapter of Chinese Made Easy 2 a little earlier than I planned (I gave myself till the end of this week). As a bit of a stretch goal I'm going to try finishing the third chapter this week. This time I'll divide it up this way (keeping in mind there are two word lists each textbook chapter):

Textbook ch. 3 (segment 1)

Textbook ch. 3 (segment 2)

Workbook (exercises 1-10)

Workbook (exercises 11-20+)

Then, I'll pick out 3 new HSK Reading texts to read from the HSK 1-2 segment. I'll write down characters that I'm trying to learn and test myself on them.

I also want to do Unit 11-1 of Intermediate Written Chinese, as well as the practice segment for that bit. Next time I check in, I'll see how i went and perhaps add in the rest of Unit 11 (There are 12 units in total, each with 4 parts). There are some open writing exercises - I'll keep my responses brief (maybe 1-2 sentences) so I can get through everything.

As always, there's Clozemaster. There's also "Detention", a Taiwanese horror series based on a game. I'm enjoying that one much more than the last two shows I tried watching. I'll leave OMORI to the side for now, and same for the children's books.

This is plenty of study for the rest of the week (5 days).

The Chinese classes begin in July - I really want to be prepared for them. I think when I start those classes, I can do all the homework and concurrently study something more advanced, so that I can advance more quickly.

In terms of work, no luck with either interview, so it's back to the drawing board on that one.

#language learning

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effervescentdragon · 2 years

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Russingon drabble inspired by this post by @herinke9 :) below the cut because it got long

I started writing this on my phone some 5 hours ago and in the meantime I've peeled 2kgs of peaches, ate, sat through 3 coffees, helped organize a whole seating list for a 400 invited ppl for a wedding, showered, and washed some 30 or so dishes, not necessarily in that order. So forgive me any mistakes :)

CW: references to past torture, maybe mild body-horror just to be sure but imnsho not really, implied sexual content

"I know what you're doing, you know."

Nelyafinwë's face is even more terrifying in the shadows of the night, illuminated only by the light of Elbereth. The wounds on his hröa have healed as much as they could have, but the white criss-crossed lines shining unnaturally bright from the whole of his mien. Finno yearns to touch them, trace them with his fingers and lips. Finno thinks them beautiful, always, but he knows others see not what he sees. They never do, never did, and he cannot stop the flutter of his heart at knowing he is the only one who is ever allowed into the inner workings of Nelyo's mind. Others always see only what Maitimo shows them; nothing more, nothing less.

"Indeed?"

Maitimo's voice is raspy and harsh even on that one sound he makes. His vocal chords were torn to shreds once, and Finno will never forget, not the words, not the sounds he'd made on Thangorodrim when Finno found him. They have recovered too, Nelyo got his voice back as much as possible, but the sharp way vowels now roll off of his talented tongue adds a dimension of danger underneath the clever, diplomatic words he speaks in Court.

"Indeed," Finno allows, for he does know what Maitimo is doing. "I do not think anyone else has noticed," he says, then tilts his head. "Aunt Lalwendë, perhaps."

Maitimo hums, a terrible, dissonant sound that still manages to make Finno shiver, then takes a sip of wine.

"She always was atya's favorite. He always said she was born to be in Court."

Finno concedes the point, distracted by the quality of Nelyo's voice. It cuts and slays in a shadowy way, and Finno is annoyed with himself for not having the words to explain, to desribe Maitimo properly. His fingers itch for paper and pen, his mind turning fragments of phrases around, searching for the one that would fit into the puzzle that is Nelyafinwë Russandol. Every phrase that comes to his mind is lacking that one final corner, one final straight to be clear enough to be articulated; nor comfortably fitting enough to be written down, much less spoken aloud. Finno yearns to do it, to make others understand what he does.

(He yearns to make them see how he is the only one that understands; how none of them may come close to him in their knowledge of Maitimo Fëanorian; how none of them may ever come as close to Findekáno Astaldo in Nelyafinwë Russandol's affections.)

"I do believe Uncle had more than one pupil in his diplomatic lessons."

Maitimo's eyes flash; danger and thunder and something mischievous. Finno feels his hröa react, shuffles on the chair. Maitimo's fingers tighten on his glass, and his mouth quirks in a half-smile.

"Mind you, though."

His inflection does not change when he speaks - no, rasps the words out. It is not a question, for there are rarely questions between them anyomore. It makes Finno feel warm all over, the inherent understanding after centuries of knowing one another; after everything they've gone through; they need little clarification.

"Mmmm," Finno hums. He makes sure to lick the stray drop off the glass' edge, never taking his eyes off of Nelyo's darkening ones.

"You know I've always loved to hear you talk, Russo," he says slowly. "And I've always enjoyed the way you run the Court into circles, never allowing them to gather their wits enough to understand what exactly you are telling them."

Nelyo's mouth widens into a grin. It is, objectively, a terrifying one, for his lips have been cut and abused horribly for a long enough time for them never to fully recover. Finno tries to imagine what the others see when they look at him, tries to look at Nelyo's face and only see the surface; he cannot.

It is not a matter of looking at Maedhros Fëanorian of Beleriand and seeing Nelyafinwë Fëanárion of Valinor; no, that is the furthest thing from his mind. It is just the fact that he would know Nelyo in his fëa and hröa both even if he lost his sight, his touch, his hearing, his taste right now. He would feel him if he lost all his senses right now, for his very being would sing, as it always does, when Russo is near.

"Mind you that I use you," Russo does not ask, he says, and Finno shivers, because he knows every timbre, every note, every shiver in Russo's voice.

"For my own gain," Russo continues, and his voice lowers even more, nland the shadows splay on his face. "Mind you when I use our," he pauses here, heavily, meaningfully. "Friendship for my political games, Findekáno."

Finno cannot take it anymore. He crosses the room in three strides until he is stood before Russo, who is silent, the look in his eyes knowing. It drives Finno wild, his hand shaking as he takes the wine cup from Russo's hand and puts it away on the table.

Their hands touch and Finno gasps. He wastes no more time and sits in Russo's lap. Up close and under the starlight, his scars are even more prominent. Finno traces them all, slowly, with his fingers.

"You may use our friendship in whichever way you please, Russo," Finno says. Russo's hand tightens around his waist. "You may use me in whichever way you please."

Their faces are a mere breath apart, and Russo's eyes are dark. Finno thinks his must be the same, and thinks He is the other part of my soul.

"I am yours to use, my love," he says, and their lips finally meet in a kiss, familiar and fiery.

"As I am yours," Russo whispers into the pauses betweent breaths and kisses. "Always."

#effervescentdragonwrites #russingon #tolkien fanfiction #silmarillion fanfic #russingon fanfic #drabble #i havent read through what i wrote so please forgive any mistakes and inconsistencies #:)#silm fanfic #silm drabble #tolkien fanfic #maedhros #fingon #nelyafinwe #findekano

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merakiui · 4 years

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Ok concept Time

(If you think this is too much don’t post this I understand!)

Cw drugging, implied non con, loss of virginity, SCARAMOCHE BEING A JERK

You are one of the Liyue Qixing who oversees all the banks in Liyue. Now that Rex Lapis had stopped minting the coins a new pile of responsibility had fallsed on to your shoulders. What’s frustrating is that the rest of the Qixing doesn’t want to help and you think that is because Ningguang told them not to. You and her butthead enough on passing of laws. (You want a free market while she wants more governmental regulation)

After recieving another “proposal” from Ningguang you are infuriated. To think she has the audacity to order you around? Absurd. When you seek to take a break from work in a little tea shop you found an adorable young man trying to stike up a conversation.

You know he is a Fatui from the emblem on his clothing, but you do not make it that big of a deal. The northland bank abides the rules of Liyue and brings gold to the market. Of course you agree with Ningguang that they should be treated with caution, but you never viewed them as enemies.

Well, you had to admit that it’s good to let your pent up anger out. Everyone in Liyue seems to worship Ningguang as if she is their archon now, hard to find someone who would criticize her these days.

You are careful to not spill too much, just minor things, but then your mind begins to spin and blur, you did not brought your attendants with you.

That look of horror on your face in the morning was worth countless mora to Scaramouche. Carassing your cheeks gently, he whispered his conditions of keeping this under wraps.

Marry him, so the people of Liyue would not know one of their respectable Qixing had lost her virginity to a Fatui Harbinger.

He doesn’t need to tell you what he did. You’re smart enough to figure that out.

To have one who has so much authority over others now to him makes his ego implode in geometric ratio.

(I love Ningguang I just need an opening hhhhhh)

-wonderful anon

WONDERFUL ANON, I DEMAND A COLLABORATION OTL jk jk ...unless? 👀

But whoaaa that is such a great concept! 10/10! The absolute power trip the Harbingers would get out of taking your virginity. Like,, waaahhh! Scaramouche is definitely at the top of the list for ‘jerk who lives for the virginity-claiming power trip.’ And the forced marriage too?! AAAHH WOWOWOW SCARA WOULD SO DO THAT! Please do not hesitate to bless us with more of your galaxy ideas!!!!

Okay, ahem. Let me add my thoughts onto this amazing concept.

cw: nsfw, implied non-con, mentions of forced marriage, yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied drug usage

You can’t believe you fell for his false charm. More importantly, you can’t believe you didn’t bring your attendants with you. How could you act so foolishly? Even though you had taken care to divulge only minor details about yourself, such as your name and your preferred flavor of tea, it didn’t mean anything to him. He was content to listen and watch while you talked and sipped at your tea, quietly plotting all sorts of maddening things.

It’s very odd when you wake up in a plush bed with him at your side. All sorts of emotions and feelings crash into your just-barely awake self. You’re confused and worried, fearing for your own safety because you just can’t remember what happened the night prior. Your memory only goes back to the tea shop and Scaramouche with his opulent attire and charming grin. And yet now all forms of clothing have been shed and you’re so exposed. It’s more frightening than it is embarrassing, and when he smirks at your horrified expression it all crashes down on you at once.

The reason you’re so groggy and sore: drugs and sex. Of course. That has to be the only explanation for why you feel so miserable, both inside and out. And you’re absolutely speechless as he lays out the conditions, all confidence and pride, as if he didn’t just take something precious from you. Something that you were hoping to give to an actual lover and not some meddling Fatui scumbag.

“Marry you?” You repeat it without meaning to, but it still stuns you all the same. “You can’t be serious.”

“You heard me once, did you not?” His face is incredibly close to yours and you feel the uncanny need to hide under the covers. You surmise that even the most devout of prayers to Rex Lapis won’t be heard over the terrifying pound of your heart. “You shall be engaged to me and we’ll see to it that this little...secret of ours is kept under wraps. Surely that’s fair?”

“Hardly! You...” Your hands come up to cover your face and you’re caught between the urge to suffocate him in the linens or to cry rivers of tears. “You drugged me! And you... My—“

“Was it that special?”

It was, you want to say, but you refuse to admit it. If you broke down in front of him, it would negate the strength you’re so desperately trying to uphold.

“No... But you can’t just drug someone and then have your way with them! And you can’t force them into marriage either. That’s the definition of insane.”

You feel sick and violated, pinned to a cork board like a deceased butterfly under his serious stare. And then he laughs. His lips turn upward in a sick smile and this man laughs. You’re not amused when you lower your hands to fix him with a glower, hoping he can read through your narrowed eyes and take the hint.

“Well, I did just that,” he finally says after he’s regained his composure, thin fingers grasping your chin. Your skin prickles at his deceitfully soft touch. “I suppose that, by your standards, I would be insane. Is that true?”

You’re too scared to agree and you have no idea what to do now.

------

WOW OKAY SO!!! This is such a good concept. I just had to write a small snippet to contribute! I also had an idea concerning Ningguang! Even though the two of you disagree and don’t often get along because of your beliefs, she doesn’t think you’re a bad person. So she’s somewhat concerned when she learns that you don’t return to work after your break, and she becomes alarmed when all of your attendants claim to have no idea as to where you could’ve gone. She might not be your best friend, but you’re still one of the Liyue Qixing. Ningguang can’t just ignore it when someone with such an important role suddenly disappears.

Unfortunately, she has no idea where to start looking and the case of your disappearance is most likely handed off to someone who doesn’t exactly care that much. Either way, you’re still stuck with Scaramouche, who will make sure to limit your freedom, and as time ticks away so does your hope of escaping him. You can already hear the nightmarish chime of a forced wedding ceremony.

As for a beginning to this lovely scenario, perhaps the reader is frustrated because of all of the extra work being piled onto their schedule, and so it begins with them angrily heading out for some much-needed air, as you mentioned in the start of your concept. They decide to relax at a tea shop and that’s where they meet Scarymoose Scaramouche. >:) Perhaps he had some of his underlings stalk them and report back to him with the information, which is how he seems to know of your movements and where to find you.

#chit chat #wonderful anon #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche #I LOVED THINKING ABOUT THIS #WONDERFUL ANON YOU TRULY ARE WONDERFUL #thinking MANY thoughts with this one

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lovely-ateez · 3 years

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Vampire Shift~

ꕥPosted: 5/23/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut, Angst, College!au, Horror!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Vampire!Jongho (feat Wooyoung and Minho from skz)

ꕥWord Count: ~5.9k (whoops)

ꕥWarnings: Horror themes, Language, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex, Mentions of blood and blood sucking (please lmk if I missed anything)

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay

ꕥA/N: I hope you all don’t a more spooky concept! Halloween is my favorite holiday and even though its May, it’s always spooky season to me lolol. Also! Feel free to listen to Vampire Shift by All Time Low while reading this (it’s only on YouTube I cry) since this is inspired by the song :)

It was a terrible idea, really, to work the night shift at a gas station alone. Even more so when you’re a young woman whose only defense is the pepper spray on her key chain and 911 on speed dial. Alas, college bills don’t pay themselves and every spare opportunity to get cash was one I had to take.

The digital clock sitting on the counter next to me briefly flashed, indicating another hour had gone by. It was currently four a.m. and it was safe to say I was losing my mind. I’d worked for five hours now, and not a customer had come in. That was the only advantage, really. So long as no one was around my boss let me finish any assignments I had, which came in handy on more than one occasion.

I was only six paragraphs into a five page report and had been staring at my laptop screen for over an hour, feeling beyond brain dead. I was assigned the topic of financial statements and country trade deficits, and wanted to cry every minute I thought about it. I was half convinced to pay someone to write the report for me.

The ringing of a bell indicated a customer opening the door and I closed my laptop to peer around the counter, ready to greet whoever entered. The first man to catch my attention was wearing sunglasses which fazed me, but I tried not to stare. The man that followed had black hair with blond underneath, a combination that I strangely liked. Both men were donned in all back, their faces stoic. They were attractive, I had to admit, but neither were my type.

And then, the last man entered. He looked over to me as he walked through the door, giving me a nod and a slight smile. His slicked back black hair matched his black ripped jeans and highlighted his red leather jacket. He was so handsome he looked like he jumped out of a magazine and I had to suppress a ‘wow’. A string of butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I did my best to ignore them, not even knowing his name.

The three of them wandered through the aisles until I could no longer see them, and I scolded myself for being so thrown off that I forgot say any form of a greeting. I sighed and turned my attention back to my laptop, opening it and blankly staring at the screen. My ears perked when I heard the men’s hushed voices.

“Y’oughta get that girl’s number. I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Yeah, Jongho. She’s pretty cute. If you don’t get her number you know I will.”

“Shut up.” One of the men, Jongho apparently, responded with a laugh, “Let’s just get some snacks, okay? It’s gonna be a long night. Also I’m buying tonight so get whatever.”

A smile crept on my face and I looked down, fiddling with my thumbs.

They think I’m cute. Maybe Jongho’s the one in red?

I heard the bell ring once more and a girl entered who I vaguely remembered from high school. She was popular but for good reason, probably being one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Our circle of friends overlapped slightly so I’d spent a fair amount of time with her. She was smart as a whip and gorgeous all the same, which seemed to stay with her. She looked bright, long red hair falling around her face, freckles still prominent as ever.

We met eyes and she smiled, “Hey y/n!”

I smiled and waved, “Hey Annabelle. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Good! I got into my dream college and it’s been great, although I’ve had to take some pretty hard classes.” She giggled, walking towards me. It’s honestly not too far from here. You go to Westgate University, right?”

I nodded and I put my laptop aside. She spoke again, genuinely excited for me, “That’s awesome! Congrats!”

“Thanks,” I smiled, “I’m taking it you got into Orholt?”

“I did! I was really-”

One of the men that entered earlier—the one still wearing sunglasses—shouted the redhead’s name and caught her attention, “Hey Anna do you want a Redbull or a Five Hour Energy?”

“Redbull! I’m not a monster.” She laughed.

The man nodded and walked toward us with several drinks and snacks in his hands.

“Oh! I want to introduce you to my boyfriend!” Annabelle turned to the man still wearing sunglasses and reached for his arm, “This is Minho. I met him at Orholt.”

Minho gave me a slight nod as I introduced myself and he placed the food and drinks on the counter. I began to scan the items, the mindless routine that I was used to by now. The loud sound of laughter made me look up, seeing the two other men approach us and place their snacks down as well. I watched them long enough to notice the way two-tone—my new affectionate name for the man with blond and black hair, I decided—shamelessly checked me out, a cocky smile on his face when I caught him. I just let out a small laugh before resuming my task, watching his confused reaction in my peripheral vision.

“Oh my god I totally forgot to introduce you to my friends.” Annabelle giggled and pointed to two-tone, “This is Wooyoung.”

“Hiya, Wooyoung.” I said with a confident smile, enjoying the way he still had a slightly confused look on his face.

“And this,” Annabelle nodded towards the man in red, “This is Jongho. Both him and Wooyoung go to Orholt, too.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jongho. I’m y/n.”

“Very nice to meet you.” The man smiled before he sent me a wink.

I had never been a particularly shy person, but as he did so my eyes darted down as I felt my face flush. I didn’t notice the gears turning in Annabelle’s head as she put the pieces together.

I placed the final items in the bag, raising my head as Annabelle addressed me, “You know I’m having a bonfire tomorrow night at my place and you should totally come!”

I stopped to think, first trying to remember if I worked the next day, then wondering if I was willing to go the bonfire when I realized I didn’t have to.

She sensed my hesitancy and her face fell, “Aw do you work tomorrow night? It’s a Saturday!”

“Oh no, I don’t. I...” I stopped to think for a minute. Although I likely didn’t know anyone else who would be there, I was familiar with Annabelle’s house, which brought me a bit of comfort, “Are all of you going?”

Annabelle gave a knowing smile, “Yes. All of us will be here.”

I nodded, accepting the credit card Jongho gave me, quickly after handing them the bags, and returning his card, “I’ll go.”

“Yay! We’ve gotta head out but I’ll send you the details. You’ve still got the same number, right?”

“Yeah I do.”

��Alrighty! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

Annabelle left with a wave, her boyfriend on her arm and Wooyoung behind her. To my surprise, Jongho didn’t leave with them, the cocky look on his face all but telling me why he stayed.

I looked at him with wide eyes, playing innocent. “Can I help you?”

He placed an arm on the counter, his dark eyes seeming to put me under a spell. The confidence he was radiating was almost palpable and I felt myself being pulled to him. It was intimidating, to be honest.

“You’re really cute and I want your number.”

I let out a surprised laugh, “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“No, not really,” He propped his other arm on the counter, leaning towards me and raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, doll?”

A smile crept on my face as I mirrored his actions and leaned towards him, “You gonna memorize my number? Or do you have a phone I can put my number into?”

Jongho’s smile got brighter as he reached to grab his phone, handing it to me. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, “I’d like to think so.”

When I handed his phone back, our fingers brushed and I could’ve sworn I felt sparks shoot through me at the simple interaction.

“Well I need to head out before the rest of them get too annoyed,” He nodded towards the exit where Annabelle, Minho, and Wooyoung left, “But it was enchanting to meet you, y/n.” He bowed, drawing a laugh from me.

“Ah yes. You as well, absolutely delightful.”

He gave me a smile, “I’ll text you later.”

"Sounds good. I’ll hold you to your word.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” And with that, he was out the door, leaving my heart a fluttering mess.

Me [8:37pm] So is there a dress code for tonight?

Annabelle [8:42pm] Nope! Wear whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m wearing this if it helps at all!

Annabelle [8:43pm] 1 Image Attached*

Me [8:45pm] So leather jackets and crop tops?

Annabelle [8:48pm] Haha sure! We can match!

Me [8:51pm] Lol bet. See you at eleven :)

Annabelle [8:51pm] See you then!

I started the process of slipping on a white cropped top followed by my light washed ripped jeans. I knew I was getting ready far earlier than I could have, but something about new events made me anxious and I had to make sure I looked nice. I giggled at the black leather jacket I was throwing over my shoulders, not having worn it since high school. In the middle of debating whether or not I should add another layer of mascara to my lashes, my phone dinged.

New Number [8:59pm] Y/n this better be you. This is Jongho and I’m texting you for a really important reason and I need you to reply quick

Me [9:00pm] Yeah it’s me. What’s going on are you okay??

New Number [9:02pm] I’m gonna go grab some food before I head to Anna’s. You wanna come with?

Me [9:02pm] Oh my god don’t do that to me, you buffoon. You scared me so bad rip

[New Number name changed to A Cute Buffoon]

Me [9:03pm] But sure I’m down lol. Here’s my address btw

Me [9:03pm] 1 Location Shared*

It occurred to me perhaps a bit too late that I was sharing my address with someone that I’d met only once and in a gas station.

I mean, he’s friends with Annabelle so he’s gotta be good right? God I hope so. I thought to myself.

A Cute Buffoon [9:04] Then it’s a date :) I live pretty close so I’ll be over in 10. That work for you?

Me [9:06pm] Fine with me!

A Cute Buffoon [9:06pm] Sounds good. I’ll see you soon ;)

I set down my phone and thanked myself for already doing my makeup. I checked myself out in the mirror, satisfied with my appearance and proud of how well my makeup turned out. I grabbed my bottle of perfume and spritzed the liquid in the air, letting it gradually fall on me so it wouldn’t be too overpowering.

You look beautiful, babe.

The waiting game was harder than I thought, not knowing what to do except awkwardly sit around and play an assortment of phone games. When exactly ten minutes had passed I heard my doorbell ring and I lifted myself from my couch, grinning at his punctuality.

I opened the door to see Jongho holding a bouquet of flowers, a smug look on his face. “Lovely to meet you here, stranger.”

I wanted to make a joke back but I couldn’t seem to think of anything, too surprised by the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t anything extravagant, the small bouquet of violets, but I felt my heart swell.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

My voice was small when I spoke, “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

His eyebrows furrowed as a confused look painted his face, “Really?”

I nodded, taking the flowers from his outreached hands and smelling their sweet fragrance, “They’re beautiful.”

My eyes flickered to his, the tender look on his face making me feel as if I was melting on the spot, “You’re beautiful.”

I squealed, my face undoubtedly turning pink while my mind short circuited. I’d never become so shy around someone before and the only thing I could think of to say in response was another ‘thank you’ followed by ‘I’ll go get a vase for these.’

I opened my door further, rummaging through my cabinets for a vase when I noticed Jongho was still standing by the door, “You can come in, you know? That’s why I opened the door.”

He laughed nervously, “Sorry about that. Force of habit, I guess.”

I raised my eyebrows in a teasing manner, “What? Are you a vampire? Can you only come in if someone invites you?”

I thought I saw a flicker of shock on his face for a moment, but it was gone before I could register it and I shrugged it off, my eyes finding the perfect vase for the flowers.

“It’s just how I was raised.”

“I get that.” I placed the flowers in the vase, giving them a bit of water before walking up to Jongho and gently patting his cheek, “Your good manners are appreciated.”

He laughed in surprise, full gummy smile on display as he playfully swatted my hand away from his face, “Alright, alright. Let’s head out already.”

I made a sound of agreement before noticing a slight pink on his ears. I was temped to tease him, but ultimately decided to save it for later. If I could fluster him once I knew I could do it again.

The diner we went to was one I’d never heard of before, let alone been to, and I was beyond frustrated that I didn’t even know about it’s existence. It was an adorable fifties style diner and even the attire the waiters were wearing fit the theme.

“This is the cutest place to ever exist, I’m convinced.” I said as we sat down on the same side of a bright red booth.

“I really hoped you would like it. This is my favorite restaurant ever and they have fantastic milkshakes. If you’d like to share one for desert, I’m all for it.” A wink.

I bit my lip and hid my face in the menu that was placed in front of us, thankful for any method of escape.

“You’re so cute.”

“Ahh no don’t say things like that.” I giggled from behind the menu.

His hand grabbed the top of the menu, pulling it down so he could see me, “Why’s that?”

“Because you make me nervous. Like a good nervous!” I tried to explain, which only resulted in becoming even more embarrassed, “I-I mean I’m excited to be around you but I’m also nervous. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.” I cringed at myself. Never in my life did I think I’d be blushing and stuttering over some man, but my god did he prove me wrong.

“Not at all,” he reached over to take my hand in his, “because I feel it, too.”

Before I could properly react our waitress came over, taking our order and effectively saving me from becoming a human tomato.

We handed our menus back to her after ordering and she looked at us with a soft smile, “You two make a cute couple.”

While I was a bit too stunned to say anything, Jongho didn’t seem to have the same problem and went along with it, “Thank you, ma’am. That’s kind of you to say.”

When she left, Jongho leaned closer to me, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by saying that we we’re a couple. I thought that-”

“No, I didn’t mind it!” I bit my tongue after likely saying that way too fast with far too much enthusiasm, but I meant it, “I didn’t mind it,” I said again, softer this time.

The tips of his ears once again turned a faint shade of pink, “Good to know.”

The food was as wonderful as it possibly could’ve been, their fries alone being one of the best things I’d ever consumed. Just as Jongho suggested, we shared a milkshake, which led to shy eye contact and laughter and my crush becoming stronger by the minute.

Just as Jongho paid and we were about to leave, a certain song began to play and he looked at me with an air of mischief, holding out his hand to me, “Dance with me.”

I took his hand, trying to hide my smile but failing. He led me away from the table and next to the jukebox. The area surrounding it was more open, probably with the intention for people to dance near it. He grabbed my waist, holding the hand of mine that wasn’t placed on his chest and looking at me in a way that could make any woman fall in love on the spot. We swayed to the music and I couldn’t help but feel full. Like I’d found all that I’d ever need.

Put your head on my shoulder~

“Do you know this song?” He asked with a smile.

I scoffed, “Of course I do! It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s one of mine, too.”

Hold me in your arms, baby~

I mouthed along to the words as I felt the need to prove it to him. As if to one up me, Jongho began to sing along, his gorgeous voice amazing me.

Squeeze me oh so tight, show me~

That you love me, too~

I blushed as he looked at me while singing along, becoming a bit flustered himself when the lyrics clicked with him.

Put your lips next to mine dear~

Won’t you kiss me once, baby~

As if we were in sync our eyes darted to the other’s lips at the same time. I could feel Jongho’s breathing becoming heavier before he said in a hushed tone, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” Was all I could respond before I pressed my lips to his, fireworks igniting inside me when he kissed me back. His lips were so soft and warm and as crazy as it sounded, he felt like home. I felt him smile against my lips as the music continued to play.

Maybe you and I will fall in love~

The fire was loud, crackling and lighting up the faces of all those crowded those around it. It was essentially the only source of light in the dark of the night, except for the distant lights still on in Annabelle’s house. My hands were interlocked with Jongho’s as we sat around it’s warmth, both of us finding it hard to separate from one another.

Conversation was flowing all around us, and I was relieved to find that everyone I had talked to was kind and welcoming. I was more nervous than I realized, but having Jongho next to my side alone calmed me. Someone around the fire mentioned an old story involving Annabelle and I began to wonder where she was, having not seen her since Jongho and I first arrived. I mentioned I was going to look for her and he nodded, at first wanting to join me but then getting pulled into conversation with one of his former classmates. I told him I’d head off on my own and he nodded again.

I looked around what seemed to be the entire property and still there was no sight of her. At that moment I heard yelling coming from her house, startling me. I felt my blood run cold when I recognized one of the voices as Annabelle’s. The yelling didn’t sound like it was out of fear, but instead more aggressive, out of pure anger. Without thinking I ran inside, hoping to calm the situation but instead found what seemed to be out of a work of fiction.

An unfamiliar man was on the ground, obviously trying to get away from a hidden figure before him that seemed to be cloaked in darkness. He let out a sound that I’d never heard a human make, one that I couldn’t even compare to something I’d heard before, and a shiver ran down my back. As the figure took a step forward I recognized it as Annabelle, or what seemed to be some version of her. Her normally grey eyes were now bright red, sharp fangs on display as she snarled at the man. A group of people were surrounding them, alarmed looks on their faces but hardly trying to intervene.

“What the hell?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I tried to back away without anyone noticing. But of course, I just had to step on an empty soda can, all eyes pointing my way. As I looked at the people around me, their expressions seemed to mirror mine and I swallowed, suddenly feeling immensely claustrophobic.

I met eyes with Annabelle and she seemed to change in a flash, her eyes returning to their former color and fangs disappearing. She looked more panicked than I had ever seen her which only scared me more. She was always able to keep her stressors under control, but as she stared back at me, I saw a version of her I never had before.

I was barely able to form a sentence, adrenaline coursing through me at a rampant rate, “Um...”

Annabelle slowly walked towards me, “Oh—hey! Sorry I disappeared for a while but how’s the party going? Are you having fun?” Panic was still evident in her voice but I knew she was trying to keep a hold of the situation.

“I...I don’t-”

A stern voice came from left, and I nervously turned to meet Jongho, an unreadable expression crossing his face, “Y/n.”

“Yeah?” My voice squeaked as I began to regret agreeing to come along in the first place, still hyper aware of all the eyes on me.

“Come with me.”

His eyes softened at my panicked state and he held out a hand, “Please?”

I was hesitant, but being anywhere away from the crowd and whatever Annabelle turned into seemed to be a good idea. I took his hand and watched as he exchanged a look with Annabelle that seemed to calm her. Turning on his heels he led me back to the bonfire, sitting in a chair and motioning for me to do the same. Seeing no one around us gave me a feeling of both anxiety and comfort, and I wasn’t quite sure which feeling was winning at the moment.

“Well I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” He started, “I won’t lie to you and try to convince you what you saw wasn’t real, because it was, but I need you to know that no one is going to harm you. That guy is Anna’s roommate and they get into an argument at least once a week. Sometimes it can be nasty, but they never get physical and neither would ever hurt anyone unprovoked. No one here would.”

I was silent for a few minutes, trying to process what I saw on top of the time bomb of information he dropped on me. “Is she...is everyone....are you a vampire?” I whispered the last words, almost too stunned and afraid to say out loud.

He smiled slightly, his kind eyes making me feel safe. “Yes. We’re what you’d call vampires.”

I took a breath, almost afraid to hear the answer to my question, “Am I in any danger by being here?”

“No, everyone here is good. They don’t pose any threat. There are plenty of dangerous vampires but we stay away from them. Besides,” He placed an arm around my waist, playfulness in his eyes, “If there were, I’d protect you from them.”

“Oh? And how don’t I know you’re not dangerous?”

He leaned closer to me, clearly enjoying this, “You don’t, I suppose. Doesn’t that make it fun?”

“That’s very much debatable,” I smiled for a moment before a frown took over, “Everyone just seemed really...I don’t know, startled I guess?”

Jongho let out a loud sigh, looking down at the ground for a few seconds before looking back up at me, “Humans aren’t normally invited to these parties. It’s assumed that everyone here is a vampire. The perfume that you’re wearing, whatever the hell it is, is masking your scent. If I didn’t meet you before today I wouldn’t have known you were human. I guess Anna didn’t tell everyone, either.” He placed a hand on my knee and looked at me with kind eyes, “How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly calm considering that I just learned vampires exist.”

Jongho laughed, “Yeah I’d say you’re taking it pretty well. Like I said earlier though, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, so fire away.”

“Yeah I have a few.” I hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by my question, “Exactly how old are you?”

“Oh are you gonna age shame me?”

“No but it’s probably an important thing to know...since we kissed and all.”

He laughed again and leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head, “How old do you think I am?”

I used his question as an excuse for my eyes to wander over his body. He was beyond attractive, very clearly fit and he knew it, which equal parts pissed me off and turned me on. As hard as I tried, I kept finding myself being pulled to his thighs. Even through his jeans I could tell he had strong thighs and I had to press my fingernails into my palm to keep from drooling. “From your appearance? Early twenties. From what age fiction usually tells us vampires are? I’d guess you’re a hundred and three.”

Jongho nodded with a smile, “I’m not quite that old but that’s a fair guess. You had it right the first time. I’m a pure born and we actually age, but we don’t age as quickly as humans. I’m twenty.”

“Pure born?”

“It means both of my parents are vampires.”

I nodded as another question came to mind, a smile on my lips. “Do you sparkle in the daylight?”

“Oh my god,” He covered his face with his hands, a mixture of a groan and a laugh escaping his mouth, “No, we do not sparkle in daylight, “His hands came to rest on his knees, “But it sucks that we really shouldn’t be in direct sunlight for over two hours a day. That’s normally the rule to go by. It’ll burn us if we’re in it for much longer than that.”

“So do werewolves and witches and everything like that exist, too?”

“Yeah pretty much. We don’t all get along, but we have to coexist. It’s something we’ve struggled with for a while, unfortunately. Basically everything you’d believe to be supernatural exists.”

I was silent for a while, not really knowing what else to say.

“Y/n? Are you doing okay? If you’re not comfortable being here I can drive you home right now or if you’d rather be alone I can call an Uber or—”

My heart skipped a beat at his kindness. “No, I’m okay. I guess I’m just surprised I’m learning about this just now.”

“We do a good job of hiding it. Also it was probably a given, but keep this as a secret if you can. Having a lot of people know about our existence can be risky.”

I gave him a silent nod, unintentionally leaning closer to him. The sound of approaching footsteps made me jump into Jongho’s arms. I didn’t know why I found comfort in him, knowing that he could be dangerous as well, but he’d been nothing but sweet to me. I had no reason to fear him.

Annabelle approached us but stopped, taking a few steps back when she saw how I was buried in Jongho’s arms.

“Hey y/n.” She rubbed her arm, looking down as if she’d done something wrong.

“I guess Jongho probably told you everything at this point. I’m really sorry if I scared you and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” Even in the dark I could see tears beginning to stream down her cheeks and I felt a pain in my chest.

I got up from Jongho’s hold and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her stiffen, “I trust you, Annabelle.”

Those four words seemed to relax her and she returned my hug, still sniffling, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone and I thought you might hate me—”

I pulled back, “Why the hell would I hate you? You’re still you.”

She laughed through tears, gripping me tighter, thanking me over and over for not pushing her away.

We’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.

Not too long after, Jongho drove me home. The ride was more silent than when we were headed to Annabelle’s house, but the air wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Feeling tired, I laid my head on Jongho’s shoulder, faintly hearing ‘sleep well, baby’ before drifting asleep.

When I woke, I was in my bed. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and found a little note placed next to it that read:

I hope you don’t mind that I carried you inside. I tried to wake you for like five minutes but you were out cold. Anyways, I had a really good time with you yesterday and I hope you had fun too :) Text me when you wake so I know you’re okay. -J

I looked at my clock and saw that it was still early, but I texted Jongho anyway.

Me [3:00am] Not sure if you’re still up, but I really enjoyed yesterday, too. I’m exhausted so I’m gonna go back to sleep but I just wanted to say I’m okay and everything is good :))

A Cute Buffoon [3:00am] Sleep well, darling. We can talk in the morning

It had been roughly a month since Jongho and I started dating, and while I felt like I knew him pretty well, we had only known each other a little over a month, on top of the fact that he was a vampire which was essentially an entire separate culture. I’d asked him most questions I had early throughout our relationship, but one in particular kept replaying in my mind.

We were currently sitting on the couch in my apartment, cuddling each other. The TV was on but neither of us were really watching it. I was far more interested in the warm body in front of me, and based off of how Jongho was looking at me, the feeling was mutual.

I bit my lip, anxiously mulling over the question I’d wanted to ask him for weeks. I didn’t know how he would take it, let alone how I would bring it up, but I needed to ask at some point. Knowing he could probably sense my nerves, I gave in. “Jongho, can a human turn into a vampire?”

He hummed, turning to face me. “Why do you ask?”

“I just...I didn’t know if it could happen or not.”

Jongho chuckled, “Yeah it’s possible. It’s a long ass process to go through though, and there’s a lot that can go wrong, so it rarely happens.”

I shifted in my seat, trying not to appear overly interested. “Why is that? What can go wrong?

He smiled and raised a brow, his cocky persona resurfacing, “You sound so eager to know, dear. Do you want to become a vampire?” His eyes briefly flickered towards my lips before he tilted his head, dragging his soft lips across my neck. I let out a gasp when I felt the tips of his teeth lightly scraping the skin, “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse for me to put my mouth on you?”

Like with anything that exuded him, I felt myself becoming quickly overwhelmed, my mind now hazy and distant. I shut my eyes in an attempt to gain some semblance of control over myself.

“Your thoughts are swirling, doll.” Jongho began leaving gentle kisses along the side of my jaw, “Don’t think too much. Just let me take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.” I said through a short breath, knowing we’d just have to have the conversation another time.

We’d had sex before, so it wasn’t like this was new territory for us, but every time felt like the first, leaving me just as out of breath each time.

He lifted me and placed me on his thigh, dragging me across his flexed muscles. I felt my eyes roll back at the simple motion, my need growing at an embarrassing rate. I grabbed his shoulders as I began to drag myself against him, whines and whimpers spilling from my lips.

“God you’re hot,” Jongho said through hot breaths, beginning to kiss my neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Thanks I try.” I managed to say, pleased when Jongho laughed.

“You don’t even have to, and it’s completely unfair.” His hands moved under my shirt and danced along my skin, “It’s like you’re an angel come to life.”

I let out a loud moan, feeling tears well in my eyes from his praise, “You always make me feel so beautiful when I’m with you.”

Jongho responded with a smile, carrying me to my bedroom and laying me down on the bed while hurriedly discarding both of our clothes.

“You’re always so eager, babe.”

He nuzzled my neck as he climbed on top of me, his hands finding my own and holding them, “As if you’re not.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

He then moved in between my thighs, teasing me with his fingers as he ran them along my wet slit, occasionally rubbing my clit, drawing small whines from me.

“Jongho please just fuck me already.”

“Sweetheart, do you even think you’re wet enough for me?” He cooed.

Feeling frustrated, I pushed my fingers inside myself with ease, pulling them out and spreading them so he could see my essence dripping down my fingers, “I don’t know you tell me.” I said with far more sass than I intended.

Jongho’s eyes widened at the sight and wasted no time positioning his cock at my entrance, pushing in and letting out the most beautiful groans.

Neither of us ever bothered to use protection because, to put it simply, vampires couldn’t get humans pregnant. It was only possible when both partners were vampires, and we took full advantage of that.

“Fuck—baby you feel amazing. You’re so warm and tight ohmygod.” Jongho moaned as he began to move, thrusting in and out of me at a steady pace.

I clenched around him, loving when he was vocal. His sounds helped get me off just as much as his actions, at times it seemed.

“You feel...really good...too.” I said through heavy breaths. And as much as I wanted to last longer in bed, with Jongho, I never could.

“I don’t know if it’s because you’re a vampire and you’ve got like magic powers or something or maybe you’re just a sex god—but holy shit...I’m close.”

He threw back his head and had the audacity to laugh, something I really couldn’t stay mad at with how good he was making me feel. “Babe it’s been like six minutes.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” I joked, my laugh turning into a moan. It only spurred Jongho on, making him angle one of my legs up higher, hitting deeper inside of me.

“I know you’re close, baby. I can feel it. Cum for me, baby girl. Let go for me.”

He reached down to tease my sensitive nub, drawing quick circles until I was seeing stars, chanting his name like a prayer.

After Jongho came down from his high, he disappeared into the bathroom as he always did, coming back with a warm towel. As he pressed the towel to my thighs I tried to ask again.

“So...about the human to vampire thing?”

“Well,” Jongho sighed, “I didn’t think I’d be able to distract you forever.” He smiled, “It’s mostly done because couples want to stay together. The thing is though, the vampire obviously gets a taste of the human’s blood and it can be hard to stop once you’ve marked them, especially since smell is such a big allure for us.”

He took a long breath, “Then the human will almost always pass out, and needs to be taken care of for the next couple days because they’ll be so weak. Another problem is that the scent of their blood will be amplified during those days and it’ll be harder for the vampire to not, you know...” He looked away, not able to say the words. I knew what he meant, we both did. In some cases, vampires would kill their human partners for of their blood. Sometimes it was beyond their control. Just a primal need that would betray them. “Then their scent is more easily detected by other vampires and the whole thing is just kinda a mess. I think I’ve only heard of five attempts and only one of them was successful.”

I nodded, not really knowing what to say.

“And then on top of it all, it can be harder for the human to adjust and it can put a lot of pressure on the relationship. Human and vampire relationships are dangerous.”

His face was serious as he ran a hand through my hair. I looked up at him and leaned into his touch.

He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, a shy behavior I hadn’t seen from him before, “I guess it’s important for you to decide then.” His eyes met mine again, “Is this still something you want to continue?”

“Our relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course, are you crazy? You mean the world to me.” I swallowed, realizing he hadn’t voiced his own thoughts, “What about you? Do you want this?”

“I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want.” He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, his eyes sparkling.

“Hey Jongho?”

He hummed, looking at me.

“I want to spend forever with you.”

#ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atzinc #ateez vampire au #vampire au #jongho smut #jongho imagines

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copias-thrall · 3 years

Note

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be alist, but it got away from me! 😅

Enjoy 😘

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time.

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.)

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy.

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-*

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day

goin upste 2 show

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm?

yeah. got me thinkin

why no show?

so i chked

i missed one

gotta do it

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans.

save em

ths is impt 2 me

We’ve had this planned for weeks.

i thot u suprted me

on a bus cnt tlk

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being.

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him.

What?

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.

#asks #mary goore #gender neutral #hurt/comfort #my writing #original post

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