#every time i have the opportunity to interact with anyone even the slightest bit “famous” I always humiliate myself

[actionyak]

I was thinking about how if I ever got a tattoo I would want to get the eye from the Night Vale logo since that show means so much to me and then I remembered the thread from years ago that Joseph Fink made on the Something Awful forums to discuss and promote his new podcast ("like NPR for the Twilight Zone"!) and how when I finally listened to the show a year later and fell into it hard I went into that thread and loudly fangirled at him and then decided to give him updates on tumblr drama related to the show (WHY????) and generally just annoyed the absolute shit out of him and completely refused to take a hint because my autism ramps into overdrive when I get excited and then I died of embarrassment all over again and I don't think I really want to get that tattoo now

[deathisanartmetzli]

More Than Meets the Eye || Vic & Metzli

TIMING: Early August

PARTIES: @natusvincere @deathisanartmetzli

SUMMARY: Vic runs into Metzli and gets a lot more than just unwanted flirtation.

CONTAINS: Gore

As the final remnants of the sun dissipated, Metzli let out a soft sigh. It was a long day, a little too long for their liking, but it was finally over. Giving the place a final look, checking off each box on their nightly routine list, they heard a faint crack. Curiously, the crack seemed to echo. The sound of rock breaking apart likewise broke their concentration.

Following the sound, it led to the sculpture section of the gallery. Nothing seemed out of place in the slightest. Metzli walked through to make double sure, and when they found nothing, they headed back towards the front to grab their things.

Metzli was quick to swing the strap of their bag and engage their security system, doing it twice out of cautiousness. Their footsteps clacked against the tile floor, coming to a stop as they exited. The key slid in and an audible click sounded as the door locked. Pocketing their keys, their eyes caught sight of a rather beautiful woman. They smiled and thought maybe they could get lucky today. “Good evening, miss. How do you do? Lovely evening, is it not?”

The definitive worst thing about being a vampire (besides that annoying eternal life thing), was being forced to avoid the sun and it’s beauty at all costs.  Even in Vic’s worst days as a human, the sun had a way of adding both a literal and figurative brightness to her day, because even in the darkest of times, it always returned.  Now, without it, darkness loomed.  The quacks of the 21st century would say something about vitamin D deficiency.

The twilight of the late evening gave at least some sort of loophole from this problem, and it was when she found herself venturing out most when she wasn’t working.  The plus side, too, was that most people were too wrapped up in trying to get home to their families to even think about bothering her.  But fuck all, apparently she wouldn’t be so lucky tonight.

Vic usually lingered in her walks by art galleries, enjoying careful peaks inside if they were already closed for the night.  She had been planning on doing just that, too, until a person locking the door all but accosted her.  Her face instinctively formed into a scowl, automatically on the defence.  “I’m not your miss.  I am a grown woman”, she said.  At their second question, she looked the person up and down, a firm scowl still set, though morphing into one a bit more judgemental.  “Well, it was a good evening.  Do you need something, or can I continue on my walk?”

“My, my. You really know how to make a gentlethem swoon,” Metzli retorted with a chuckle. It wasn’t often that someone met them with such disgust within the first second. It usually took about ten, so this was a remarkable record. “I never claimed you as mine, but maybe just for the night you can be,” They flirted, horribly so. The fact that Vic had no interest only made them want to bother her more.

Metzli faced Vic fully now, hearing no heartbeat and gathering a familiar scent in their nose. They leaned onto the door and crossed their arms casually to take in Vic’s unrelenting visage. The sight only made them smile wider, revealing perfect white teeth. “Do you treat everyone with such charm, or is it only special people like me?” This was no longer about the art of flirting, but the art of annoying.

Just as Metzli opened their mouth to continue, another echoing and rocky crack resonated in their ears. This interruption made their head snap towards the glass doors, to peer inside. “Did you hear that?” Everything, the annoying and flirting, was out the window now. Something felt off. Something felt…sinister.

Vic stared stone faced at the person in front of her, blinking twice as she tried to decide exactly what about their interaction was so swoon-worthy.  She let out a huff, her stone face somehow becoming even more stern.  “I don’t belong to anyone, blobfish.  Especially not dense, odd-looking people like yourself.”  The lack of a heartbeat didn’t help either, though the fact that she didn’t think to automatically call a hunter on this person made her gut flutter uncomfortably.  Especially after hearing barely 3 sentences from them, it was already clear that they were relentlessly annoying.  Turning in a potential vampire should have been easy, but especially when they were as antagonistic as this person was.

“Can I tell you a secret?”, she asked, slapping on her famous fake charm for only a moment before turning it off in an instant. “There is nothing special about you.  Never was, never will be.  When I leave here, I will never think about you again, even though you’ll spend the rest of the month at least thinking about me. Now I’m only going to say this once, so make sure you turn on your listening ears.  Back. The fuck. Off.”

Just as she spoke the last of her threat, a loud, earthy rumble could be heard inside the gallery.  She turned to it, her eyebrows furrowed in investigation.  “Of course I heard it, stupid.  Did you accidentally leave someone in there with the merchandise?”  The sound rumbled closer rather quickly, and she forced herself to look back at the person in front of her.  “Don’t you work here?!  Shouldn’t you know what’s going on in your own place of employment?!”

Without a shadow of a doubt, Metzli knew they poked the bear thoroughly. Only, this was definitely a vampire bear with a vengeance against her own kind. Or maybe against amazing people flirting with her. They didn’t know, but they certainly knew she was way off base with the blob fish comment. “Whoa there. Blob fish? Fuck that. I’m attractive and you’re way too hot headed to acknowledge such decadence.” There was no malice in their tone, only a light joking one.

“Furthermore, while you have every right to turn down my advances, I don’t think I ever gave you a reason to be so…for the lack of a better term, bitchy towards me.” Metzli was mocking Vic, and it was obvious with the kind of voice they used. Layers upon layers of annoyance and sarcasm, molded together to serve in their words. Their toothy grin remained plastered on their face as they retrieved the keys from their pocket.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, gorgeous, I gotta ch—“ Something crashed into the door, breaking the glass and frame completely before Metzli could even put the key in the lock. “Fuck!” Glass sprayed everywhere as the two vampires were knocked to the ground by an unknown creature. It took a few moments, but Metzli managed to follow the trail of broken stone. Nothing but their eyes moved until they locked onto a grotesque and slobber-ridden chupacabra. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hm, you seem really eager to prove how attractive you are.  Am I sensing some deep-seated insecurity here?”  Vic blinked in surprise when she was called bitchy, tilting her head in offense.  “Ooh, I can see why you approach strangers on the street instead of using acceptable ways to find someone to validate you as a person with fake praise and sexual favors.  Your lack of tact explains a lot.  Having a hard time finding a first date, Honey?  Try not insulting people you’re trying to pick up.”   She wanted nothing more than to slap the grin off their face, but her words had the ability to cut deeper than any physical injury could muster.  

She was about to bite again at the pet name, seriously second guessing her decision not to figure out for sure if this person was a vampire like she thought, when she was thrown to the ground unexpectedly, glass shattering all around her.  Her eyes landed on a slimy, thin, reptilian creature, and she looked at Metzli with disgust.  “What the hell is that?!”

She stood up quickly, dusting herself off and not bothering to help her companion stand up.  Was the gallery doubling as some weird, supernatural breeding ground?  She didn’t have time to ask, because the creature was seemingly bounding toward them without hesitation, fast and slobbery and with nearly nothing stopping it.

Gathering their wits about them, Metzli dove towards the chupacabra, not hesitating to halt its path towards Vic. Though most people would mistake this as a heroic act, it was more showboating than anything. “It’s a fucking chupacabra, numbnuts!” They barked out the statement, struggling to hold the creature still. Thanks to living over a century, their strength was more than quintupled now, but even that wasn’t a total advantage here.

Metzli huffed as they threw the chupacabra to the side, hoisting it several feet away. “That was a sculpture before it was this. Someone must’ve donated it as a threat or because they’re stupid.” They thought out loud as they moved over to Vic. Survival was crucial here, and so was keeping a low profile. God knows what this would do to the gallery’s reputation. And a woman dying in front of it too? No, that wasn’t going to happen. Not on their watch.

The creature growled and shuffled around, trying to refocus and find its prey. With widened eyes, Metzli watched as the beast loomed closer, baring its teeth in a threatening show of dominance. They stepped back slowly, trying not to make any loud noises. The time to get out of dodge was now, and they knew they’d have to bring the aggressive woman with them if they wanted to protect their gallery’s image. Before bolting for a dark area nearby, they reached for Vic’s hand, and uttered a single word, “Run.”

It was highly offensive to be thrown to the ground and then be called a name within mere seconds.  Vic shot Metzli a look, one that was sure to let them know how incredibly displeased she was, before her eyes found their way back to the creature, trying to study it.  She certainly had never heard of a kookaburra in White Crest, but stranger things had happened.  “That’s not a bird, you imbecile.  It’s a lizard!”

With the creature momentarily disabled, Vic took the opportunity to stand up, backing behind the person she had determined was responsible for this whole mess, Metzli.  “You and your staff didn’t think of double checking the matter before you allowed the statue in your facility?” she asked incredulously, disgusted by the clear lack of customer service going on here.

At Metzli’s command, Vic took off immediately, pulling the other person with her and not taking a second to look back to see if they were being followed.  Even if Metzli had clearly gotten the name of this thing wrong, they seemed to have at least some knowledge of what it might be.  “What the fuck does it want?”, she asked as they ran, no more breathless than she’d been when they were standing still.  “How do we fucking get rid of it?”

Metzli practically rolled their eyes all the way back as Vic ridiculed them and their staff. “I told you, it was a statue! A full blown, marble statue! No movement, and no charms indicated a live creature resided in it!” Their words jumped about as they ran, too frantic to keep it even. “In here!” Vic was pulled into a dark alley, a little roughly, but she was put behind them. Being much taller than her, they covered her completely.

“Chupacabras don’t normally go after anything but goats, I thought. But maybe it’s mad.” Metzli whispered, taking slow and controlled steps back, leading the two further into the alley. “If we stay put, it’ll go away and bother less important people. Like humans.” A quiet laugh escaped their lips and they grabbed a metal pipe, just in case. Vic seemed like she could beat the shit out of something, but Metzli couldn’t rely on pure assumption right now.

“Can you do anything other than be an ass? You look strong. Super strength or are you just one of the useless undead people with toned bodies for show?” Even now, Metzli just had to push some buttons.

“A statue in White Crest”, Vic shot back incredulously.  “It’s entirely irresponsible to assume that anything brought to your facility is just going to be normal.  Wouldn’t it make sense to hire some sort of...supernatural curator or something?”  Normally, she wasn’t so forward when it came to issues of the supernatural.  She wasn’t one of the idiots who flaunted her knowledge around the town as if they were speaking about the sales at the grocery store instead of something as life or death as supernatural creatures.  But Metzli clearly knew about the subject, so much so that they might be the only person helpful enough to help her survive whatever situation they had gotten themselves into.   She nearly let out a shriek as she was pulled, and her eyebrows pressed together at how close their bodies were pressed together.

She looked up at her companion, a huff leaving her lips before she spoke.  “Mad like angry, or mad like losing its mind?,” she asked, chancing a peak toward the creature.  She scoffed, pushing Metzli away from her at their idea.  “What kind of immoral slob do you think I am?,” she demanded, clearly offended.  “First of all, who said anything about being undead?”.  Even with an admission she knew of the supernatural, and this person’s apparent knowledge of her lack of heartbeat, a stranger would never get the privilege of hearing about her status as a vampire. “Second- we cannot just let this thing off to destroy people’s lives.  We have a responsibility to stop it before anyone gets hurt, you depraved ingrate!”

She swallowed, frustrated, and looked between Metzli and the creature once more.  “I’m a rather adept boxer”, she said, clenching her fists as she spoke.  “But I’m not confident that thing won’t turn itself back to stone once I try to take a swing- is that something it would do?”  Her eyes settled on Metzli, who she just decided she hated asking for help.  “What about you?  Are you good for anything other than being annoying and irresponsible?”

Boy oh boy was Vic getting on Metzli’s nerves. She was so hot-headed that she couldn’t even give a semblance of grace. “Listen, I’m trying to help you, despite how fucking disrespectful you’ve been. I’m new to this fucking place, but you’re too fucking busy to even give me a chance. A single. Fucking. Chance.” A low, guttural growl tickled through their throat as they glared at Vic. She had finally gotten on their bad side, it didn’t matter how hard they tried to push through the anger, they needed a minute.

Forcing a breath through their teeth, they squeezed the pipe to the point of leaving indents before finally succumbing to calmness. Metzli simply muttered, “They’re mad, as in angry. And no, turning to stone isn’t a specialty. Someone else must’ve done that. Also, I can obviously hear that you have no pulse, and you’re fucking freezing.” They rolled their eyes and paced forward to the entrance of the alleyway to take one last look at the chupacabra. “Fine. We’ll take care of it. But only if you stop being such a dick. I was trained in a clan and can handle myself well, and…fuck. Fine. If you need help, I guess I’ll have your back.”

They reached a hand out, motioning for Vic to shake their hand, “A small truce for now. I don’t know what your problem is with your own species, but I’m willing to put aside everything if you are. I haven’t had the best few weeks so…I—so—ugh. Sorry I blew up.”

Vic blinked, stopping for a moment to let her gaze fall on Metzli as they blew up on her.  She pressed her lips together, processing exactly what was being said to her.  Everything that they said felt justified- they were thoughts that had been tossed around her own brain for decades now. Thoughts that she worried everyone felt anyway. But still, despite how her mind was feeling, her mouth went on the defense.  “I’m too busy trying to survive”, she muttered, though her eyes flashed away from Metzli’s.  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Her eyes wandered to where Metzli’s hand was wrapped around the pipe, and then back to their face, letting out a low breath of her own.  “What do you suppose it’s so angry about?”, she wondered aloud, bracing herself for a fight with the creature, as if one were only moments away.  “I have an undiagnosed medical condition”, she lied matter of factly, not interested in sharing the truth.   She wanted to tell Metlzi that they’d probably take care of it in terms of self-preservation anyway, but maybe after upsetting them, it was best to leave well enough alone.  She let out a huff before shaking their hand reluctantly.

“A truce”, she agreed, as ridiculous as it felt, “I suppose I can put insulting your character on hold until we’re in a safer situation.  I’m… sorry if anything I said offended you”, she said through gritted teach.  Before either of them had a chance to have any closure on their apologies, the creature was bounding toward them.  It rushed it’s body into Vic, sending her against the wall of the gallery with a grunt.  

“It’s probably mad at the people who turned it int—” Words were interrupted by the bellowing roar of the bounding chupacabra, followed by a crunching blow. There was no time to react, to stop the beast from running straight into Vic. Without thinking, Metzli threw their body at the chupacabra before it could do anything else to her. The metal pipe was thrusted into its chest with pure force and it screeched in pain.

Limbs thrashed and teeth snapped over and over again until Metzli was successfully thrown off. “Come on, Medical Condition! Rip its fucking head off!” they demanded, getting pummeled and bitten over and over again. Black blood pooled on the ground as it seeped from every bite.

A hand found a slippery grip on the protruding pipe, pulling it out and using it as a method of defense. It was the last resort, the last chance Metzli had against the devastating blows. Whether they lived or died didn’t matter, but they made a truce and told Vic they’d protect her. And if there was anything Metzli was not, it was a liar. They kept it distracted, trying to give Vic the chance to compose herself and attack properly. It was a struggle, but they wouldn’t lose their resolve.

Thankfully, Vic’s brain had the chance to process what Metlzi was trying to say before the wind was figuratively knocked out of her.  It would have crushed her body if not for Metzli’s intervention, and for the first time, she was actually thankful for their presence.  With the new defensive attack, the beast had found a new target in Metzli, and at first, all Vic could do was stare in disbelief at it’s anger and violence.  Violence on this scale, while it was something she might have incited, wasn’t something she experienced first hand often, or even liked to think about.  It brought back painful memories that were too stubborn be forgotten after 400 years.

But then her companion’s words shook her out of her temporary stupor and she sprung into action, using the chupacabra’s distraction to her advantage.  She jumped on the creature from behind, muttering expletives in Swedish as it tried to throw her off, fighting for dominance.

She grit her teeth when she finally got a good hold of it’s head, and with Metzli’s earlier advice ringing in her ears, she tore it off.  The creature’s body stood stiff for a moment, as if time had frozen between the three of them, but then it tumbled to the floor, sending Vic down with it.

She looked up at Metzli, the previous rigor of a fight in her features replaced with concern.  It was the first time she had felt any type of sympathy for the other person.  “Are you going to be okay?”, she asked, pushing herself up.  “You’re looking rather rough.”

Stillness took over not only their body, but the air surrounding the two. Metzli felt their thick and congealed blood pool around them, and they felt so hungry. The chupacabra’s body was still very much warm as it laid dead on the ground next to them. “Nice job, Medical Condi…” But they trailed off, black consuming their vision as dizziness took over their head. Rolling over, they managed to get to their knees and crawl to a wall to prop themselves up. This was the worst condition they had been in since their days in the clan.

“I think after all of that, I should get at least a date at the bar,” Metzli coughed raspily until it bled into a dry chuckle. Despite the pain they were feeling, they wanted to give the notion that they were more than fine. Great, even. “I’ll even buy the drinks.” They continued to joke, only being half-serious about the gesture. Vic was definitely appealing visually, and even showed strength that they respected, but her personality was a little too hot-headed for their taste. But if there was anything Metzli had learned in their years of living, it was that people, just like them, put on a front to conceal their true selves from others.

“Hey…”, Vic said, walking the short distance to them.  She rested her hand on their back, leaning down to get a good look at their face.  Their condition was possibly even worse than she thought it was, and there weren’t many ways to help an injured vampire that she was comfortable with.  

A Vic from last year would have seized the opportunity to turn them in to a hunter.

Instead, she said, “We need to get you some animal blood.  I know a guy, if you don’t.”  She tucked a hair behind her ear, still refusing to acknowledge the truth of what she was.  Thank god for Metlzi’s impeccable timing for annoyance, because it gave her a chance to recover.  “Don’t hold your figurative breath, Sweetheart.  You know, you’re a lot more likely to get laid if you don’t sound so desperate.  You sound like an insufferable teenager when you continuously come onto someone who’s clearly not interested.”

She pressed her lips together, leaning her back against the wall they were using as a crutch.  “Sorry about your statue”, she said genuinely, gesturing to the bits of glass that surrounded what used to be a door.  “I hope the gallery has good insurance.  

Seeing Vic a little concerned, Metzli couldn’t help themselves and said, “Ha. You care about me. Well, you did. For at least two seconds.” They spit to the side, black blood spattering on the floor. Aches and pains cascaded to every nerve, making them grimace as they got to their feet. “Nah, I’m good, Vic. I’ve annoyed ya enough for one evening. It’s getting boring.” Each step hiccuped with a limp and they rolled their eyes at themselves. Being so injured was annoying, but it was also exhilarating to have been so close to death. So close it made them laugh. “That was a lot of fun though. Would’ve been funny as shit if I had died.”

Vic’s concern was so out of place that it made them stumble and reposition their hands on the alleyway wall. “My gallery will be fine. Thanks, though. Maybe you’re not so bad. ” Metzli teased, walking around the corner and passing the ruins of their entrance door. Glass crunched under every step. They sucked their teeth and took out their phone to start making calls for the door, subsequently taking out a business card and holding it out for Vic. “If you wanna keep in touch, here’s my card. Sorry your night got all ruined. Pretty women like shouldn’t have to deal with shit like this.”

Vic didn’t bother to suppress her eyeroll, which was so much easier than acknowledging that Metzli might have been right.  Still, there was an itching of concern for them, especially when it was notable that they were still definitely not in good shape.  “Our definitions of fun are vastly different”, she decided out loud.  Inwardly, she decided to walk Metzli home, or at least make sure they got home okay.  She figured it’d be better than having to worry the whole night if they made it safely or not.  Even if she’d have to sneakily wait till whatever time they decided to leave.

She took their card, but vowed to destroy it when she got home.  In her hands, if she were in another state of mind, it would be too dangerous for her to have that kind of information. She let out a breath, tucking it into her pocket and looking back at them, her face barely changing.  “Nobody should have to deal with shit like this”, she argued, unblinking.  “But I guess that’s the world we live in, isn’t it?”

For so long, she thought she had been making the world they lived in a better place by ridding it of vampires.  When one proved to her the amount of humanity they could have, like Metzli did tonight, she had to wonder who the real monster was.

[rayroute-clear-saeran-text-sound]

BRO I WANT A MYSTIC MESSENGER SHIP!!!! You already know my name! I always tell everyone that I am a mixture of a dolphin and lin Manuel miranda: talented but I don't shut up. Big musical energy with every genre of music imaginable. I love food and going to cool places and Disneyland! Movies are also a big yes for me (specifically marvel, star wars, disney, pixar!) I love art and am planning on getting a major in graphic design! I've been told that I am very positive and can get along with anyone

Aye, that’s my best friend!! I included details that you didn’t put down, because I love you <333 

I pair you with Zen!

He was enraptured by your positivity, and knew immediately that he was going to be in love with you. He was super impressed with your ability to get along with Jumin, even if you didn’t like him, yet at the same time, super pissed and jealous. 

 Adding on to that, he was equally happy and irritated that you got along so well with the rest of the RFA. He knows deep down that you only have eyes for him, but he’s still very insecure about it. He’s a majorly jealous guy. 

 He is absolutely glad that you share his hatred for cats. Although it may be for a different reason than his allergy, he is so thrilled that you will decline cat-related guests and try to change the subject whenever talk drifts to anything in the realm of felines.

 He is fascinated by your art, and tries to get you to teach him at first, but decides that it’s a hopeless cause. He absolutely begs you for a painting for his birthday (of course it would be of himself, because what a narcissist), and probably cries when you give it to him. Once he receives it, he will absolutely not stop hugging and cuddling you for the rest of the day. Most likely, he hangs it front in center where he can stare at it and show it to anyone who visits.

 He will get you lots of graphic design jobs by putting your name and work out within his musical community, and eventually you get many job offers to design promotional posters for musicals. Some of them Zen star in, some have nothing to do with him. He knows you are capable of finding work without his help, but he wants you to have as many opportunities as possible, because he knows what it’s like to be starting out and struggling to force your way into the field.

 This mans doesn’t hate animals, but isn’t totally in love with them, either. He had never really been around horses before, and never thought he would be nervous around them at all. But, when you took him out to the barn, he was unexpectedly intimidated by them. Eventually, he grew used to them, and would probably even ask for you to teach him to ride (nothing complicated, just simple walk, trot, canter) after learning that it’s actually good excercise. He gets really annoyed whenever they snot and sneeze on him though.

 He could be convinced to get a dog, and whenever you were off staying the night visiting family or friends, he would cuddle with it as much as possible because it reminded him of you. Plus, he would take it out on runs with him whenever he couldn’t sway you to go.

 He knows that you hate running and hiking, which are two of his favorite hobbies. He’ll try his best to get you to go on walks, maybe even a run or hike if you’re really feeling generous. He rarely succeeds, but when he does, he’s usually met with complaints throughout the activity. 

 He absolutely cherishes the chill nights he spends with you watching movies on weekends. Although you both love your friends in the RFA, you haven’t exactly been innocent of cancelling plans with the group on Friday nights to stay home for cuddles and film. He always teases you for your youthful taste in movies, but deep down those are some of his favorites, too. 

 If you two ever showered together, it would be 100% just singing show tunes together. Broadway is his passion, and he was even more smitten with you when he discovered that it was yours too. His favorite to perform with you is Something Rotten, because not only do you get super into it, but he loves the aesthetic and vibes of that musical. Whenever you two sing God I Hate Shakespeare, he is totally thinking about Jumin the entire time and you think it’s hilarious.

 He knows he could never be as good as Alex Brightman in your eyes, but desperately wants to be at least your second favorite musical actor. At first he was jealous, but eventually just gave up and accepted it as reality. You made him promise that if he ever did a show with Alex Brightman, he would get him to meet you.

 He secretly has a fund that he puts a little bit of money into every month in order to save up to take you to Disneyland. He knows you’re obsessed with the place, and since he’s never been, he knows that you’d be the best tour guide. He loves all the rides, especially the ones that go fast, bonus points if they remind him of riding his motorcycle.

 You had to give him a full on lecture of the importance and greatness of food. The minute you discovered that the only thing he had in his fridge was beer and the occasional convinience store salad, you knew there needed to be a change. He constantly reprimanded you about some of your food choices not being healthy for the skin, but after weeks of ignoring those comments, he decided that they weren’t doing any good. He tried to cook for you, but was really bad at it.

 He could never be convinced to go to any of your favorite fast food places, such as Taco Bell, so you would have to go with Yoosung or Seven if you wanted to go with company. Seven was always down to go, but you would tire a little of Zen bombarding you with questions about if Seven did anything weird afterwards. However, Zen loved going to Whole Foods with you. The two of you could spend hours in there.

 You would always introduce him to new music, and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He often wanted you to make him playlists, and you were always happy to oblige. One of his guilty pleasures was Fifth Harmony, and once you caught that you would not let it go. Whenever you didn’t have guests, the two of you would perform your hearts out to those songs. Zen insisted that you could have a career on stage if you wanted it, but you declined immediately every time.

 If the two of you knew you would be having a late night, or if you guys just couldn’t sleep, you would pull up bootleg musicals on the tv and watch them together all night. You two would sometimes watch the bootlegs of his own musicals, which would spark old memories from him, and he would begin to tell stories of crazy interactions with the cast and crew of those shows. You would have to beg him to play his oldest content, such as his debut in Thai’s Tea Leaf and Cube World. He would cringe at his old performances from his teenage years, and although you would poke fun at him for a little bit, by the end you were showering him in love and affection. Your favorite thing was to play Seven’s video that got Zen famous in the first place.

 The two of you always praise each other all the time. It eventually will escalate to a full blown war of love and affection, and at some points it would get so extreme that the rest of the RFA would have to step in. You two were each other’s biggest fans, and would make sure the other knew it. Zen treats you like a goddess at all times, absolutely no exceptions. 

 He would make an attempt at quitting smoking if you asked him to, and would try so hard. He loves you more than anything, and understood that it was for his own health. 

 He wants to show you off always. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him, and he wants everyone to know not only that you are his, but that he is yours. Lots of PDA, this boy can’t help it. Nothing too intense, but lots of handholding and cheek/forehead kisses because he can’t contain himself.

“This couch isn’t big enough for the two of you! Why are you even here?” Zen raised his voice, desperately trying to drag Seven and Yoosung off of your couch. You only watched from the safety of the wall, stifling laughter.

“Because we know you two have been cancelling plans to watch movies! So, we figured we’d have to invite ourselves over for movie night if we ever wanted to see you again.” The redhead rolled his eyes, making himself comfortable. It was clear that he had no intentions of leaving anytime soon.

“I could report you for breaking and entering, you know.” Zen grumbled, while you sighed and put the movie in, knowing that you would be joined by two extra guests that night.

“But you won’t.” Seven stretched out even more, pulling Zen down next to him. “Move, it’s starting.” Infinity War began blaring through the speakers as you made your way back to the couch, not even caring who was with you as long as Zen was there and you got to watch Marvel and see Chris Pratt on screen. 

“Oh sorry, Elise. There’s not room here. Yoosung, Seven, one of you two idiots, move to the floor-”

“It’s fine!” You smiled as you interrupted him, but it was a troublesome smile. The kind of smile that Zen had come to learn would result in mischief. 

“Are you sure? Because there isn’t any room to sit down right now.” He looked at you, red eyes filled with caution while Yoosung was immersed in the beginning of the movie. Only Seven seemed to be aware of the situation, and was smirking while trying to hide a chuckle.

“Sure there is!” You were able to make yourself a seat without kicking anyone off the couch by planting yourself right in Zen’s lap, leaning back against him knowingly. Although you couldn’t see it, you knew his face was bright red. If it were just the two of you, he wouldn’t have cared in the slightest and would have even encouraged it, but the two dorks of the RFA were sitting beside you two.

“Elise, come on-” You held a finger up and shushed him.

“Zen, I swear if you interrupt Chris Pratt with a lecture on your ‘beast’ or whatever, you’re sleeping alone tonight.” That shut him up immediately, and he suffered through the entire two and a half hour long movie, despite his legs going numb halfway through.

[kokomatcha]

Running With It

A writing exercise for myself.  Get it?!  Because running and exercise—sorry, haha.

Anyway, this will be an exercise in learning to not be too much of a perfectionist and try to write shorter doses because my problem is I overthink my writing and I also make it long and convoluted with added details.  This, in itself, actually started branching out into more of a plot, but it’s mainly slice of life style and the way it started and the following interactions does make it easier for me to keep things broken down so I guess we’ll see how it goes.  I think I’ll try to write it by night/encounter (I mean in the story, I definitely can’t update this every night.  It’s really a miracle I’ve written and posted twice in the span of a few days!)

The funny thing is I was going to write something else because I was feeling not so Plus Ultra yesterday, but I actually fell asleep, lol so I woke up feeling better and got this idea instead!

All Might x Reader

You’ve noticed the same strange man jogging along your street at odd hours of the night and early mornings.  He never fails to slow down and take a breather right in front of your apartment building and as time goes on you find yourself lingering on your balcony, intrigued by these indirect, nightly visits.

                                                         Running With It

                                             Chapter 1: I’m Staying Up For...

As a night shift worker, sleep loves to elude your grasp like trying to hold water in your hands.  No matter how hard you try it always manages to slip between your fingers and you find yourself sitting awake in the wee hours of the morning exhausted and miserable.

Too tired to do anything productive.  Not tired enough to fall back asleep.

As such, you’d often find yourself running on small amounts of broken sleep, either going through cycles of staying awake for an entire day or even days before finally passing out for a good twelve to fourteen hours only to find yourself repeating the cycle all over again.  It was taxing on your body, but it was an adjustment that you chose to live with.

Which is why your best friend was caffeine.  A cruel mistress that offered temporary charges of energy to get you through your job, but lingered in your system to continue to exacerbate your insomnia.  And then, of course, there were the caffeine withdrawals, but it was better that than having nicotine invading your blood stream and filling your lungs with plumes of smoke and tar.  You had enough time huffing and puffing up the stairs from exhaustion resulting out of your sleep deprivation—you didn’t need to diminish your lung capacity in addition to that.

Although, you muse lightly as you cross your arms over your balcony’s railing, you’d look more intimidating with a cigarette between your fingers than with an energy drink in your hand.  

You lean your head to the side, resting against one of your arms as you lightly swirl the contents of a small can of coffee held limply in your grasp that dangled over the railing and the street below.  

It’s fine, after all.  It’s two in the morning.  No danger of dropping it on some poor, unsuspecting pedestrian.  And even if you had, you’re only on the second story.

But then the universe was always a force you should know better than to tempt as the distinctive sounds of footsteps caught your ear.  You turned your head in the slightest, squinting in the darkness.   A few street lamps offered some light, but the reach was small and you could barely make out a figure approaching at a steady pace in the distance.

Their footsteps were almost like gunshots, their shoes slapping against the pavement and echoing against the cluster of apartment buildings and concrete walls.  It wasn’t long until the mystery runner finally popped under the fluorescent light for you to get a quick look at their guise.

They were incredibly tall, even in the distance you could tell especially when comparing their height to the street lights they passed.  A shocking head of bright blond hair and a brightly color jump suit decorated in colors of red, blue and white.  It had distinctive American-styled influences, but with the familiar patterning, you could guess the runner was either an alumni or associate of the famous hero school.  Definitely not a current student, you judged from what you could see of his face, which was very little thanks to the lack of light.

You also noted how incredibly skinny he was, his sunken cheeks made the angles of his face stand out starkly given the harsh lighting he’d pass under.  His breathing was audible and you could hear the underlying wheeze straining his lungs and the glint of perspiration drenched across his brow and down his neck as two loose bangs flapped wildly across his face.

You watched him lazily, briefly wondering what on earth could possess a man to take a jog at this hour, but you stopped yourself since you’re sure if the question was turned around on you, it did seem odd for someone to be hanging about on their balcony in the dark staring out into the empty streets for the past half hour.

Surprisingly, the tall skeleton of a man slowed his pace and stopped right in front of your apartment.  His breathing was harsh and he was doubled over, grasping his knees tightly as he struggled for breath.  At this distance you could actually see the drops of sweat hitting the drying pavement.  His form seemed to be trembling, whether it be from the exertion of his run or a chill from the cold exacerbated by his clothes dampened by his sweat, you weren’t sure, but you felt a twinge of sympathy.

For whatever reason, this man felt driven to push himself to his limit and it was almost painful to watch as he struggled to meet his own self-imposed standards.  When he did manage to look up, staring down the path in front of him as if to gauge what more punishment his body could take, you noted how extremely pale he looked.

You hadn’t moved from your spot since you had first noticed him so he was unaware of the small audience of one that had been keenly observing him from your darkened perch.  Your hand holding your can of coffee had even stilled, your attention raptly focused on the stranger before you.  In your mind you briefly debated going inside to fetch him a bottle of water, but several things stopped you.

One, you didn’t know this man and you have never seen him before in this area,  which didn’t mean much since you weren’t exactly keeping tabs of all your neighbors.  He was also very tall and could easily scale the wall of your building into your apartment to murder you, if he so wished.  

An extreme assumption, but not unheard of in these trying times.

Two, you’re pretty sure you didn’t have bottled water laying around and the only thing you had was cans of coffee and energy drinks you’ve collected from supermarkets, convenience stores and vending machines during sales or on your walks home.  You’re not even sure if you had any other variety of beverages in your home at this point in time, if ever.  But by the looks of it, he actually did look like he could use an energy drink.

Three, it might unnerve him to find someone had been watching him, making you seem like the possible threat and maybe even a bit creepy.  

And lastly, while you were busy pondering if this man had the potential to murder you or if your underlying altruistic nature would win out on forcing you to action, he had already caught his breath and was straightening up.  

You watched as he picked up his jog, traveling the last few yards up to the corner at of your street, pausing at the crosswalk only to choose to round the corner and disappear from sight.  For a few moments you stared at where the man had last been, as if waiting to see if he’d come back the way he came, but minutes passed and you came to the conclusion he probably had used the opportunity to turn around and run back the way he came on the other side of street, probably for a change in scenery.

Ah, you thought as you finally pulled yourself from your slouched position to straighten up, I guess he made the decision for me.  

Your joints popped and cracked in protest, but you sighed as the tension left your body.  Remembering your drink, you swiftly downed it in a few swallows before returning back inside, making sure to carefully lock your sliding door to your balcony behind you before ambling to your kitchen to rinse out the can and set it aside to dry for later recycling.

You were unhealthy, but at least you recycled your bad habits.

Actually, that didn’t make it sound any better, did it?

You glanced at the clock on your microwave, the digital numbers glowing brightly in the darkness.

3:11AM.

Sighing you made your way to the bathroom to rinse your mouth and brush your teeth, resigning yourself to making another attempt at sleep, but you could feel it was already a lost battle with the peculiar incident of the strange man jogging down your street still running through your mind, already wondering if he would be okay or if he made it home by now, why was he running around at this time—

You closed your eyes, starting to shake your head as if to rid your self of those thoughts, but stopping as minty foam dribbled down from the corner of your mouth.  You rinsed your toothbrush, spitting the used paste out into the sink as you wiped your chin with the back of your hand.

It was just as well, you thought as you filled a small cup with water to rinse your mouth, swishing it around a few times before spitting down into the sink.  

You probably wouldn’t see that man again.

Spoiler: You do.

If you enjoyed this, let me know!  I’ll probably still post a few chapters regardless since it’s an exercise for myself, but I’d love to hear from anyone who enjoyed this or any constructive criticism to help me become a better writer! My anons are turned off tho, sorry, I’m kind of shy and fragile so I keep them off just in case.  

I know not much interaction happened this time, but next time for sure, promise!  I might post on AO3 but it depends on how complicated it is since I’ve never used it before, but I know tumblr (which can also be frustrating) so most things will be here first.

[aparecium-hq]

Welcome to Aparecium, Addie! You have been accepted for James Potter. You said you’ve been playing James off and on for a while, and it shows. He’s such a nuanced character and seems to have a lot of great potential. Check out the new member checklist, and jump right in.

Character Basics

Birthday (Age): November 3 2004 ( 23 ) Gender (Pronouns): male ( he/him ) Sexuality: pansexual Blood Status: half-blood Hogwarts House/School: Gryffindor Occupation: Keeper for the Chudley Cannons Faceclaim: Jordan Fisher

Any requested changes? n/a

Biography:

As the first born child of ‘the boy who lived’, the world quickly took interest in everything to do with James’s life from the moment he was born. He was special simply because his parents were famous and everywhere he went people seemed to know who he was. It was overwhelming at times, and a bit scary being so young and having complete strangers knowing your life story, but at home Jamie was just Harry and Ginny’s boy, another one of the Weasley’s spawn that seemed to be half of the British Wizarding population by this point. At home, lost in a sea of far less red heads than one would expect, is where James knew he was truly significant. Sure, it was easy to be overshadowed with his parents so busy and two younger siblings that couldn’t take care of themselves like James could, but Harry and Ginny made it look easy balancing work and a growing family.

James was a curious child, always managing to get into something he shouldn’t, but there were just so many amazing things around him he couldn’t always help himself. He had a need to know everything about everyone and was constantly in trouble for sneaking into his daddy’s office, or trying to see how to work his mummy’s wand. But his daddy would always let him curl up in his lap after being punished and read him any story he liked, so it really wasn’t that horrible.

James had gotten a calendar for his eleventh birthday and counted down every single day until he got to start his first year. He had been listening to stories of best friendships, Quidditch finals, and adventures since he could remember and was more excited to get to Hogwarts than he had ever been in his life. What James had not prepared for, was the unfamiliarity of it all. He had never been in a situation before where he didn’t know at least the majority of the people, and anyone he had not known his parents introduced him to. Now he was supposed to make friends on his own, decide if someone was best friend material or if he should have chosen a different compartment, and interact with people who expected things from him solely because his last name is Potter. The Prophet, professors, various school day quidditch captains, they all expected him to have the best traits of both of his parents and namesakes. It had been a lot to take in at only eleven years old.

At Hogwarts, James wasn’t surrounded by family members who were careful to make sure he was aware it was okay to be his own person. He knew he couldn’t cling to his cousins all the time, and what do you want, James? quickly turned into so much like Harry, or it’s like they knew when they named you. Instead of using his teen years to figure out who he was, James came to the realization he could become the person he was supposed to be, he just needed to try harder. He had never been the best in school, he became distracted too easily and had a hard time keeping up with all the material; but he needed to keep up pretences that he didn’t care about grades, but did well in school without trying so he would never go for help, instead staying up sometimes for 24 hours straight studying until he fell asleep sitting up.

tw: anxiety , panic attacks , and disordered eating One thing that had always captured James’s interest was flying, so when third year rolled around and James still hadn’t managed to make the house Quidditch team, he had gotten sick in the grass by the lake and hadn’t known what to do. His dad was the youngest seeker in over a century, his mum played professionally and he couldn’t even get a spot on the team. Terrified his friends who were now all on the team were going to forget about him, James spent hours from the second he got out of classes until curfew practicing. Whenever he wasn’t in class he was studying all night, then waking up at the earliest hours of the day to get time on the pitch before the teams wanted to use it for their own practice. Stress weighed heavily on him and he would manage to go days without stopping for a meal. With the extra weight off from days of not eating and extra workouts, James was faster, more agile on a broom than he had been and when one of the chasers landed a detention on game day, James was asked to fill in.

When fourth year came around and one more spot opened up on the Gryffindor team, James had shown up to try out for not the chaser position that he had been subbed in and practiced his entire life, but for the keeper spot. Sure people whispered when he got it over three seventh years, ‘ everything always came so easily to James Potter. It wasn’t fair. ‘ He didn’t correct them ( even if it bugged him that all his hard work was overlooked ). Rumors were flying that he decided to try out for keeper that morning and was simply so talented he beat out kids who had been playing the position their whole lives. It was a lot better for his image than admitting the entire previous summer he was out flying every second he wasn’t needed anywhere else.

He definitely hadn’t expected to fall in love with keeper as much as he did. Sure, his Uncle Ron played in school and they had bonded even more over his interest in the position, but the spot felt like it was his to own. He wasn’t being compared to his parents or his grandfather. He could focus on playing, not beating stats of his mother at his age, although his own progress on the house team had become something that drew the attention of quite a few people outside the walls of Hogwarts. A “natural born talent” people had called him.

It was Easter break James’s fifth year, only a few months before he sat his OWLs that Harry and Ginny quickly caught on something was wrong and perhaps he hadn’t been as easy-going the past few years as he had been throughout childhood. The boy they always had to pull out of bed every summer was now up and out the door before even they were and the cabinets holding all James’s favorite snacks seemed constantly full. But they hadn’t thought it was anything more than the stress of teenage years until Ginny walked into James’s room at four in the morning to find him throwing textbooks across the room in the clothes he had been wearing since the day before, sobbing openly. His marks on his practice exams had all been lower than he wanted, and the more times he took the practice tests the worse he did. Of course he hadn’t been the only one in his year struggling with test anxiety, but after days of talking through what was happening ( and his Hogsmede weekends being taken from him the rest of the year and being replaced his parents bringing him to therapy ) he realized it was a lot more than stress over his exams.

It was difficult accepting that maybe James could just do what made him happy; he didn’t even know what that was and wondered if he had forced himself into being this person that was a watered down version of what he thought he wanted. His parents had not even been sure they were going to let him return to Hogwarts for his sixth year, but James managed to convince them with promises of weekly letters home (which quickly turned to bi-weekly, then monthly) and closer eyes on him than necessarily made him comfortable. His final years at school hadn’t magically become perfect, but James had managed to at least make himself aware he was allowed to be true to himself and ask for help when he needed it, even if he didn’t always follow through with the actions.

After finishing school, James had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. He had gotten more OWLs than he ever thought he could ( nine Outstandings and the rest Exceeds Expectations) and did amazing in all the courses he continued onto for NEWTs level, so maybe all of his hard work really did pay off. Still, there were so many things he could do with his education but none of them sounded interesting in the slightest so his first year out of school James worked as a clerk at Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, partially for money to start saving for his own flat, and part because it was so stereotypically ‘Weasley grandchild’ to have a job there and he couldn’t help himself when his Uncle George offered him the position.

However after a few months working at the shop James had been approached by a man he had remembered seeing at multiple Quidditch matches over his years at Hogwarts. They had watched James play for years, and wanted to offer him a position on the Ballycastle Bats. Of course his parents had their concerns about James moving so far away, as well as the pressure of playing professional Quidditch, but he couldn’t give up an opportunity to seize his dream job since he was six years old. He had loved his time in Ballycastle, the town had begun to feel like home and James had been upset to learn he has to leave it behind. However, his trade to the Canons had come with a raise too large to pass up on, plus he was equally as excited to be closer to home as well as his family.

Character Questionnaire

How does your character feel about their family?

“I- I don’t think there is anything in the world more important, really. Sure, family isn’t always blood, there is family that you just sort of find, and that’s just as important but family is still my number one priority. I think out of all the similarities people try to force on me and my late grandfather, this is definitely the one thing I’m positive we had to have shared, although I think I get it more from my dad than anyone else. He taught me more about family than anyone. It’s why I’m so excited to move back to England. Even though I haven’t lived here since I was eighteen, home is where your family is.”

How would your character describe their own work ethic? Is that an accurate measure of themself?

“I’ve always liked to run with the stories you hear about me, you know the ones? Potter never even plays the position until he’s fourteen years old and somehow manages to go pro. But how can’t I with my genes? Mum played pro and Dad could have if he wanted I’m sure, I was just born talented. Truth is I tend to overwork myself until I’m sick. I had a great team, and I’m joining another great team that I need to work twice as hard as any of them to be half as good.”

How would a stranger who has just met your character describe them?

“Probably say they always knew I was handsome, but didn’t realize I would be this drop dead gorgeous. Then likely wonder how I manage to even fly a broom with how clumsy I am on the ground, but that’s only because I refuse to wear my glasses half of the time and I can’t see where I’m going. I don’t know really, people always want me to be like my dad. People have always thought they knew who I was before they ever met me, now even more so since they know me for my own accomplishments not Mum or Dads. I’m shorter than they thought I’d be, and quieter.

I’d really like to consider myself more than Harry and Ginny Potter’s kid and I’m working really hard to be that. But they’re the only reason anyone pays any attention to me in the first place, I doubt that scout from the Bats would have ever taken the time to watch me play in school if I wasn’t Ginny Potter’s son. Perhaps I’m good enough to be where I am on my own, but I’m not better than all the other people who worked so much harder than me whose last name isn’t Potter. I don’t know.”

Para Sample

It had been a long day, although lately everyday seemed to feel like a long day. To be fair, James did it to himself; when he got overwhelmed he purposefully put more and more on his plate, refusing to stop as if looking for a way to self-sabotage everything he had going on. His father  had been the only one who could ever talk any sense into him when he got like this but he hadn’t exactly told anyone he was back in England just yet. He had wanted to finalize a place to live, have a plan before he told anyone he was moving back home. He was still playing quidditch  professionally, living his greatest dream since he was a child, but for some reason he still was nervous everyone would see him having to move back home as a failure. He wanted everyone to know he was still doing well before he told any of them he left Ireland. But he had been apartment hunting all day and the fact that his lease was up and he was no closer to finding a new place to live left James exhausted but unwilling to just stop for even a moment.

He looked up at the person next to him only for a moment, passing them a drink before taking a sip of his own before plastering a somewhat plausible grin on his face, faking a weak attempt at a laugh, just hoping they wouldn’t recognize him. If his family found out he was in town because someone posted it online he’d never hear the end of it. “I never would have thought it would be this difficult to find a place to live, I mean Merlin’s beard you’d think I was asking for an entire bloody castle to myself with how few options are available.”