#splash page for a certain art book

[skycowboys]

Bandits are often not your biggest problem when flying across the Windy Wing Basin.

~

Discord | Patreon

[sxsilly2]

ed distractions

all of this is from distractions.carrd.co!!

out and about - ☆ people-watch ☆ sit outside ☆ go window shopping ☆ try out clothes w/o buying them ☆ get a mani/pedi ☆ cloud-watch ☆ make a shopping list ☆ go on a shopping spree ☆ find a new location in your city to visit on google maps ☆ go stargazing ☆ go to the library ☆ go thrifting ☆ pick flowers ☆ go to a new coffee shop you haven’t been to ☆ go camping ☆ go to a museum ☆ go to a park and draw people walking by ☆ see a movie in theaters

moving - ☆ play tennis ☆ ride your bike ☆ go swimming ☆ make your own workouts ☆ swing ☆ make a playlist of workouts ☆ climb something ☆ go for a jog ☆ take a walk ☆ go hiking ☆ do some yoga ☆ do your work out routine ☆ pilates ☆ stretch

creative - ☆ draw, add a pos over it and draw all over again ☆ make a collage out of book pages ☆ make flower arrangements ☆ style your school uniform ☆ copy celebrities’ signature looks w things in your closet ☆ draw many puzzle pieces ☆ make your own zentangles ☆ create your own signature symbol ☆ dry flowers and make a flower diary ☆ learn to crochet ☆ make gift cards for your friends ☆ make a google docs template ☆ copy tattoos w a marker ☆ make stickers ☆ create your own digital museum ☆ make friendship bracelets ☆ make a diy bath bomb ☆ make a movie ☆ tye dye a t-shirt ☆ make playlists for moments ☆ write a letter ☆ decorate an envelope ☆ write jokes ☆ scribble and turn it into a drawing ☆ splash paint onto paper ☆ try to recreate art ☆ recreate notion/carrd pages you see online ☆ make a graphic novel ☆ build a fantasy world ☆ draw a map ☆ draw a webtoon ☆ decorate a notebook ☆ collect dried leaves ☆ make tattoo ideas ☆ do commissions ☆ draw pixel art ☆ make powerpoint templates ☆ make a subliminal playlist ☆ make edits of ppl ☆ make a notion template ☆ write a cringey wattpad novel ☆ write fanfiction ☆ decorate flower pots ☆ paint your phone case ☆ make diets for your fav characters ☆ write a love // hate letter ☆ make lyrics out of random words ☆ paint rocks ☆ decorate a hat ☆ cut out your clothes to make new ones ☆ up-cycle thrifted clothes ☆ draw on your wall ☆ make a bullet journal ☆ doodle on anything around you ☆ memorize a poem/song ☆ come up w original thread ideas ☆ make jewelry ☆ make soap ☆ crochet // knit ☆ draw a self-portrait ☆ draw w your eyes closed ☆ scrapbook ☆ paint some cloth ☆ animate something ☆ start a dream journal ☆ start a blog ☆ bake a cake ☆ cook something new ☆ create new outfits ☆ color ☆ learn origami ☆ draw an original character and give them their own backstory ☆ color-code your google calendar ☆ draw your dream home in detail ☆ paint on a canvas bag ☆ make a jar filled w movie titles and pull one out randomly to watch ☆ start your own private instagram account as a digital diary ☆ write a screenplay ☆ direct your own movie ☆ make lists

educational - ☆ research a random topic (then make a presentation on it) ☆ learn all the countries on a certain continent ☆ learn all countries’ capitals ☆ educate yourself ☆ catch up on current events ☆ go on a study space and study ☆ join a google classroom ☆ take a masterclass ☆ sign up for a course ☆ practice public speaking ☆ finish your assignments ☆ improve your memory ☆ memorize things ☆ organize your notes ☆ learn a new study technique ☆ learn morse code ☆ annotate a book ☆ learn curse words in other languages ☆ learn how to play an instrument ☆ pick up a new skill ☆ learn some psychology tips ☆ learn some cool facts ☆ learn a new language on duolingo ☆ learn about finances

hang out with yourself - ☆ induce a glow-up ☆ induce your honeymoon phase ☆ choose a signature smell ☆ interview yourself ☆ write about your day ☆ figure out a crisis you’ve been having ☆ romanticize your life ☆ get a signature look ☆ get on another twt side ☆ use subliminals ☆ put all your thoughts on paper ☆ decorate your personal journal ☆ watch a childhood movie ☆ go through your old playlists ☆ discover a hidden talent ☆ ask yourself weird questions ☆ write a love poem to yourself ☆ make a goal list ☆ create a vision board ☆ make a time capsule ☆ look at old photos ☆ write a will ☆ practice gratitude ☆ declutter your phone ☆ practice meditation ☆ make an online quiz about yourself ☆ create a five-year plan ☆ plan out your week ☆ write three short-term goals ☆ work on current goals ☆ use a body scrub ☆ do a hair mask ☆ take yourself out on a date ☆ plan YOU days ☆ journal your feelings ☆ write letters to your future self ☆ make a top-10 list of your fav anything ☆ examine your birth chart ☆ color or cut your hair ☆ start a happiness jar ☆ write down your manifestations // affirmations ☆ watch self-improvement videos ☆ give yourself a spa day ☆ update your resume

social life - ☆ facetime your friends ☆ interview someone ☆ do a virtual meet-up w friends ☆ get a penpal ☆ learn about recent drama ☆ boost your socials ☆ talk on spaces w your moots ☆ volunteer ☆ contact an old friend ☆ plan a meet-up w friends ☆ call a relative ☆ plan fun outings // themed nights for you and your friends ☆ hug someone

at-home - ☆ take a cold shower ☆ re-organize your bathroom ☆ try on your clothes ☆ take a bubble bath ☆ visit a digital museum ☆ paint your nails ☆ do a movie/book/game marathon ☆ clear out your closet ☆ drink water ☆ put together a skincare routine ☆ go through your emails ☆ use a bath bomb ☆ do a face mask ☆ plan your meals ☆ re-arrange your books ☆ clean your room ☆ have a picnic on the floor ☆ stick pictures to your walls ☆ organize your drawers ☆ redecorate your room ☆ clean your makeup brushes ☆ declutter your makeup ☆ organize your photos ☆ clean your electronics ☆ do your laundry ☆ take a nap ☆ make a fort ☆ clean your desk area ☆ print posters and decorate your walls ☆ brush your teeth ☆ back up your laptop and phone ☆ update your passwords ☆ clean your car

just for fun - ☆ pretend you’re vlogging ☆ plan a trip ☆ copy ppl’s insta stories ☆ pretend you’re a model ☆ plant a flower/tree ☆ play uno or another card game ☆ play scrabble ☆ make a tournament of a game like “true american” in new girl ☆ make an amazon list ☆ learn dances ☆ do a makeup tutorial ☆ play loud music ☆ do buzzfeed quizzes ☆ read a webtoon ☆ look at memes ☆ look at thinspo ☆ make a youtube channel ☆ watch vlogs ☆ count your money ☆ discover new makeup styles ☆ tweet something stupid ☆ google yourself ☆ read fanfiction ☆ find new music ☆ write online reviews ☆ read shein reviews ☆ sing karaoke ☆ play never have i ever ☆ play with bubbles ☆ try to rap ☆ recreate your fav movie scenes ☆ make a shrine ☆ make a treasure hunt ☆ play chess // checkers w yourself ☆ start a controversy over a stupid topic ☆ donate some money ☆ learn to hula-hoop ☆ do a sudoku ☆ save tweets to your bookmarks ☆ make a tbr list ☆ go through old ana forums ☆ take a survey ☆ make a wishlist for when you reach your ugw ☆ make an elaborate conspiracy theory ☆ play w legos ☆ start a new show ☆ make a new playlist ☆ listen to a podcast ☆ surf pinterest ☆ read a book ☆ make a bucket list ☆ shop online ☆ sell clothes online ☆ test out a new hairstyle ☆ look up recipes online ☆ watch true crime ☆ watch a rom-com ☆ play video games ☆ redo your phone layout to a new theme ☆ watch a yt documentary ☆ start your own cult ☆ try dimension shifting ☆ record your own videos of you talking to yourself ☆ re-organize your pinterest account and all your boards ☆ scream into a pillow ☆ go through the app store and look for cool apps

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Dark Imagination_ Part 2

A.N: Did I really just come up with a 10-part Genshin Impact Reverse Harem Vampire Husbando AU? Yep! But, I had to stop the count of husbandos somewhere, so I’m keeping it simple:

Zhongli, Alhaitham and Neuvillette are officially my top three husbandos, in that order.  So they will have the honor of being the main vampire coven we are following in this story. 

Genshin Impact MasterList

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

It had been three days since you had arrived to this world. Although the sun rose and set like your world, you found yourself sleeping in and rising late to stay up into the night. It was hard for you to stay up all night, and none of them pushed it. Secretly, they were happy that you hadn't actively run away from them. 

Well, you thought about it. 

But what was that saying, better to deal with the devil here than whatever devil might await you out there? 

But you realized quickly that none of them attempted to harm you. Neuvillette and Zhongli went out of their way to chat with you, hoping that it would put you at ease. You barely saw or exchanged words with Alhaitham. Or rather, he made no move to speak to you any more than the day you came to this world. 

Such an evening found you, blowing your cup of tea in the tearoom, allowing the silence to be your companion. You were used to silence, after all. You turned the page in the book you found from their library. Once they gave you a tour, and you discovered it, you had been hooked. 

“Did you find something to your liking, once again, my dear?” 

You looked up to see Zhongli walking quietly into the kitchen.  

It was weird, none of them walked with audible footsteps, but they did have reflections in the mirror. Alhaitham had only snorted at this, “I’ve read what humans make vampires out to be. Yes, we have reflections, no garlic and crosses aren’t harmful to us. The only true thing is that we don’t like the sun, but we can manage that if we aren’t mortally wounded. And a vampire can be killed by destroying his heart.” 

It was nice to know that the legends of vampires were largely the same in both worlds, even though reality was different here.

“What are you reading now?” Zhongli asked with a small smile, as he took a seat next to you and began to pour his own cup of tea. 

“I kind of got capture after page one.” said by way of excuse to the story you were reading as you held the page with one finger and flipped to the cover of the book. 

Zhongli chuckled, picking up the cup and blowing on it, “If it pleases you.” 

You ducked your head at his words before peeking up at him. You had always loved tea and was astounded of the different types of tea that were available here. Many you were certain didn’t exist in your world. 

And you had no idea why, but watching Zhongli make and drink tea was like watching art. Even the simple act of him enjoying tea, captured your gaze. Over the last few days, you had spent time with Zhongli as he made his tea. One of which took six hours!! But you found you quite enjoyed the time spent with him. 

You looked back at your teacup before taking a sip. Then you went to pick up the teapot to pour yourself another when a gloved hand, folded over yours. You looked up with eyes wide. 

“Allow me…” 

You pulled your hand back, allowing Zhongli to pick up the teapot to pour you another cup. 

Not one drop splashed. 

You swallowed as your head dipped once again. A soft touch on your cheek, had you looking back up. His knuckles lightly touched your cheek as he frowned, “Did you get enough to eat today?” 

“Yeah, there was enough.” you murmured.

“That’s good. Then you are well?” 

You nodded, “Just fine.” 

You saw Zhongli’s amber eyes flash once as his touch ghosted down your cheek to your neck. You shivered as it went further, trailing down your arm, until he lightly grasped your wrist.  You should have pulled back, but for some reason you didn’t, quite enraptured by this new development. He gently pulled your wrist towards him, as his amber eyes glanced down at it. Then his thumb was gently running over your pulse. 

What would you have done if you knew he could hear your pulse the moment he entered the door? At that moment, you didn’t know that all three of them could hear the ebb and flow of your heartbeat even as they went to ground. Even as they sleep, the blood in your veins was their lullaby. It had never been as loud or as clear as now, since you were pulled into their world. You didn’t know that all three had planned to make you want for nothing, to entice you to stay in their world of your own freewill. 

Would they even let you go back? 

This was not something that any of them were willing to face right now. 

You gazed up at Zhongli, as his lips parted, allowing you to see the fangs that poked from them. 

Somewhere in you, you were aware you should stop this. What kind of storybook did you get dropped into? Did you even want to continue this dark story? Exactly what awaited at the end? 

Then Zhongli’s lips ghosted over your pulse making your heart skip a beat until his tongue darted out, swirling over the pulse of your wrist, once. Twice. 

Your breath hitched and your heart stuttered. 

“Zhongli….” 

You snapped your head up and snatched your wrist back to find Neuvillette standing in front of you, two across from the table. You were thankful for the interruption as you blinked. What would have happened if Neuvillette hadn’t come? You scanned around and sure enough, Alhaitham sat, in the furthest chair with his gaze in a book. His gaze briefly shot to you before moving back to his book. If you hadn’t been looking, you would have missed it. 

“Xiao, escort your Lord to get himself together.” Neuvillette commanded. 

Xiao appeared in the room and bowed, “Yes, sir.” 

Zhongli seemed to snapped to himself and looked apologetic, “F-f-forgive me…” 

Neuvillette interrupted, “Save it for later. Just get out now.” 

Zhongli snapped his gaze up to Neuvillette and bared his fangs, “Who do you think you are talking to?” 

You froze, ducking your head into your teacup that you had gripped. 

Neuvillette only gazed down at him, unimpressed. 

Xiao intervened, “My lord Rex Lapis, please. Think of your Blood Mistress. We needn't frighten her. That is all Monsieur Neuvillette meant.” 

That seemed to calm him down and Zhongli stood with a sigh, “Yes, you are…correct.”

Without a backwards glance to you, Zhongli exited, followed by Xiao. 

Neuvillette finally turned his gaze to you, “Are you alright, Miss. Y/N?” 

“Ahh, I’m fine.” 

Alhaitham flipped a page, “Your heart rate is through the roof. Breathe…” 

“You have nothing to fear. Forgive me for not arriving earlier.” Neuvillette sketched a bow, “And I’ll apologize for Rex Lapis. He is ancient and has been without his Blood Mistress for a long time now. Even longer than Alhaitham or I. He usually has rigorous discipline to be admired, but now that you are here, his control is taut. I do not say this as an excuse for him, merely to explain. But even I admit you are quite a temptation. Ah, perhaps it would be wise for me to keep this quiet right now, lest I cause you to misunderstand. Oh, dear, am I rambling?”  

You looked taken aback by his words, even as Alhaitham snorted, but Neuvillette lavender eyes continued to rest on you as he added, “...But even still, he as we all should exercise caution. Again, I make our apologizes.” 

You shook your head, with a small smile, “It’s fine. I understand.” 

“Thank you for your grace.” 

Part 3

[ravenelyx]

I love you in every timeline - Chapter 4: The Repertoire of Memory is Worn

← Prologue

← Chapter 3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 8.8k

Chapter Warnings: pining, some angst, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name use for reader, some swearing, use of 2nd person for the reader, book dialogue

Summary: "It was as clear as day, no matter how many times he had brought his tie to his nose in the days that followed, that you had no interest in him.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: Basically a therapy session for him

You can read the whole fanfiction here on ao3

"The repertoire of your memory has shown me you yourself before you left. There were names of various countries, dates and sojourns and at the end a blank white page, but with rows of dots…as if to suggest, if it were possible: ‘to be continued’." -Eugenio Montale, The Repertoire

Perhaps he should have given the Gryffindor Prefects less credit after all. He should take back the bonus sapphires he had reluctantly given to the red gryphon for his "hospitality."

Because at that moment, it felt anything but.

He remembered the look Hermione had given you when you were about to tell him your deepest, darkest secret.

Okay, maybe that's too far-fetched.

But your tone of voice and the look in your eyes clearly showed that whatever you wished to disclose to him wasn't something you would have told Umbridge... or any other less preposterous teacher either.

He wasn't looking for validation, nor was he fishing for pity.

But maybe he did wish to be seen.

All things considered, no one in his new circle of friends — which looked more like a segment and a dot, given he didn't yet know where he stood with you — knew of his misadventure, nor of the reason he occasionally tugged at his sleeves when the cardigan itched at his wrists.

He wanted to tell Daphne.

He wanted to tell you.

He wanted to tell everyone.

Hell, he'd have even told Draco Malfoy if it meant that at least someone would acknowledge his standing, no matter how asinine and annoying their comments might be.

"...unless it's absolutely necessary," he recalled. But where was it that he could draw the line between necessary and extremely-and-idiotically-self-indulgent?

It had been two weeks since the Artefact had brought him there. Two weeks in which he hadn't seen Ominis or Anne — not that they wanted him around anyway. Two weeks without hearing her voice. Two weeks in which you hadn't visited the Undercroft, not even once.

He was there all the time, much to his dismay. If he sat there long enough, he could almost pretend nothing had really changed. He could almost trick himself into waiting for her to walk in and practise Confringo with him. He could almost hear Ominis and Anne's laughter as the Gobstones splashed him with their juice.

Almost.

He wanted to ask you to practise some spells with him there. Maybe, just maybe, if you placed your body at a certain angle and shrugged off your Gryffindor robes, he could see her.

Your hair was shorter. Just a little.

He had noticed it the day before when you'd turned around to collect your potion ingredients, and it had been eating at him ever since. Stupid, really, because your hair should have been the last point on his list of discrepancies between you two.

As demonstrated by your escapade in the Library, it was quite obvious that, aside from some physical features and your last name, you two were like chalk and cheese.

"I can be sneaky, let's go," she had said, naively.

"Hold on, now," he had answered her with a small, knowing smile.

"Is it always this easy to sneak in?" he heard his voice say again.

"The Library is closed at this hour, so no. It's not."

"You said the librarian would be gone by now!"

"I said usually!"

"It's five to eight. That means we have twenty minutes, at max , before Madam Pince returns," and he had nodded in understanding.

He took a loud, deep breath that sounded more like a choked gasp.

Everything felt wrong. Everything was wrong. It felt like the Universe (or that damn Supreme Being that had been toying with him since he arrived in this world) had swapped your places. And the more he looked at you, the less he saw her.

And that scared him.

Because if one thing was true about Sebastian Sallow, it was that he was a selfish, heedless bastard when it came to matters of the heart, and if the only way to have her back by his side was to love her vicariously through you, he wasn't going to budge.

But now he was starting to notice too many differences, and not just on a physical level. Because while he could ignore your eyes, especially when you were facing away from him, or the birthmark near your lip, or the crease which only showed when you drew your eyebrows together, he couldn't ignore your lacking presence in the Slytherin Common Room, or your sagacity and boldness, or your confidence and wit, or the way you appeared to know how everything worked to the brim.

Or how you always seemed to be one step ahead of him.

And yet, he had to reluctantly admit that he didn't completely hate it.

And that scared him, too. If not more so.

Because he felt like he was doing her a disservice by admiring you.

Sebastian wasn't stupid, he knew that the reason his heart leapt at your mere presence wasn't because of some real-life fairy tale about love at first sight: he'd never doubted that what was going on in his nervous system (and in his stomach, which for some reason couldn't get rid of those stings) was just the result of poor emotion regulation and transference (and also a form of intrigue, though he wouldn't admit it out loud). He was extremely self-aware, he prided himself on that, but in the last year, when he had let his feelings take the reins of his body, the results had almost always been disastrous.

And he was sure that this time would be no different.

So he thought back to his promise. To stay away from you, as he told himself. To find out what had happened to her, and then to ignore your presence and existence as best he could.

But how could he ignore you when you were everywhere now?

There had been days when he had scrubbed his hand more than once to get rid of your drawing, only to regret it the next day when he saw it fading more and more.

And so it went on, an alternating nightmare.

Two weeks of it.

He often caught himself staring at the seat next to him on the sofa near the fireplace in the Common Room: the seat where she always sat. Now Daphne occupied it most of the time.

"What are you staring at?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are my hips funny or ...?"

"What? No," he snapped out of it, and averted his eyes, only now realising exactly where he was staring.

To anyone else, it would have looked like he was gawking shamelessly. But it was Daphne he was talking to: some days she seemed to know him better than he knew himself. She was bloodily perspective in her own way, and he was more than willing to open up to her, against his better judgement.

If it weren't for her loose blonde hair and bright blue eyes, he would have seen Anne in her.

He seemed to be forgetting that it wasn't only you whom he shouldn't get attached to too much.

"I just spaced out."

She clicked her tongue as she smudged a little on her diagram. "I suppose the Chinese Chomping Cabbages aren't exactly piquing your interest, are they?"

He watched thoughtfully as she struggled against the ink, and the only answer he graced her with was a guttural sound at the back of his throat. She seemed too distracted to care.

"Why won't it stop dripping?" The blonde hissed, annoyed, and Sebastian half-smiled in amusement.

And then he reached into his pocket.

"Try this."

Daphne furrowed her eyebrows and picked up the weird stick he was holding.

"Is this a new kind of wand or…? Didn't know Ollivander had stepped up his game."

He rolled his eyes. "It's a pen. A… A muggle invention. Just press it on the paper and write. You won't need ink."

She looked at it suspiciously, as if asserting that it wasn't a Zonko product that would spray her with Bouncing Spider Juice when she least expected it. In the end, she seemed to trust him enough and shrugged.

And so she did as she was told.

"My, my!" The girl grinned. "You know I'm going to steal this from you, right?"

There was a pang in his chest, and his breath was cut short at the idea. He remembered the playful twinkle in your eyes and your smile as you handed him that same pen.

"No you won't," he retorted, his voice trembling slightly more than he had hoped.

"Ho ho," she said, keeping the pen tight in her hand and biting her lip to stop a sly grin from breaking onto her face. "Why not? Is it… special?"

He took in a sharp breath. "No. It's just my first muggle object… and I want to enjoy it."

"Your first muggle object, is it?" She shook her head. "You took it for a tattoo-making tool as well then, I reckon?"

"Tattoo-what?"

"Those weird marks Muggles draw on their skin. Permanently," Daphne shook her head, emphasising the last word disapprovingly. "But yours wasn't permanent, which means..."

"Mine? What are you talking about?" The boy leaned back on the armrest. "I've never visited a Muggle - er - tattoo-maker."

She sighed, seemingly exasperated, but her small, teasing smile told him otherwise. He felt cold sweat run down his spine.

"It might be gone now, but I remember that weird circle on your hand, and I don't suppose you've drawn it yourself, so either you joined a cult or… someone else who would possess muggle objects drew it for you."

He flushed and hid his hand by instinct, even if now the skin was smooth and unblemished again.

Just how perspective was Daphne Greengrass? Or was he just far too easy to read?

"I joined a cult."

She broke into a laugh. "Alright, then. I won't steal your most prized possession from you."

He loved and hated talking to her at the same time.

Sebastian watched musingly as his friend twirled the item in her hand, stopping now and then to draw symbols and write short words on the worn parchment, and he thought back to the wide range of abstruse sketches on your notebook, and on how he wished you would take that same notebook with you to the Undercroft when you would finally accept his invitation to study together.

He tried in vain to pull himself out of that reverie, to finally come to terms to what it really was: a whim he shouldn't indulge in. What was really important, and the only reason he should keep you in his company, was to find out what happened to her, what had made the wizarding world repute her achievements perfunctory and irrelevant enough to enshroud her existence to everyone.

It was a rickety plan you were both treading on, going from pillar to post those last few days with no success. You had told him you had visited the Restricted Section again, but that the only book who made mention of Ancient Magic had just said something about the hides of dragons and their protection.

His heart broke a little upon knowing you felt the need to do that alone without sending for him to accompany you: he thought you were in this together. On the whole, though, you had only been the bearer of bad news, but despite the crushing weight of repeated failures, he wouldn't acquiesce to the sinking reality of the impasses you were piling up. He was as stubborn as a mule and intended to remain so.

As always, you got away with no one being the wiser. He could not help but be envious and enticed at the same time.

Sebastian had always felt like he knew everything: what other people thought, what his environment was like and, above all, what he himself was like. He had an assertiveness that few people could master and many would emulate. He knew exactly what to say to make people tick. He knew better than anyone how the school worked. He had studied its rules and guidelines, and knew exactly how to put one over on them when he needed to.

And yet he had got caught.

You hadn't.

Neither that time, nor the previous times.

Now, he had kept Tracey Nettlebed at bay by fulfilling her stupid requests, and that seemed to prevent her from telling what happened that morning — how she knew was still a mystery to him — but, to anyone other than Sebastian, Daphne and Tracey, you still looked as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth.

He wasn't even sure the Professors would believe Tracey if she had — as people around Hogwarts said — "dashed the dirt" on you two, given how much of a blabbermouth she was, but Dean definitely would have, and that was the reason you had been so adamant not to let your adventure out in the open.

So, despite his own reluctance in having to ask you to get those Snackboxes-whatever from the Gryffindor Common Room whenever Tracey cornered him near the slithery entrance of his own — and the constant twitching of his left eye whenever you mentioned said boy — he had decided to push his own qualms (and feelings) to the side and had yielded to your wishes.

He hadn't properly told you Tracey's exact words — having learned a bit later that the shocked expression you had worn, which had made the pit of his stomach drop to his knees, was due more to the fourth-year's tone of voice and threatening look when she'd said his name than to the 'your little crush' remark — and he had absolutely no intention of doing so.

It was as clear as day, no matter how many times he had brought his tie to his nose in the days that followed, that you had no interest in him.

And his marks on cricket darts seemed as appealing as squeezing Bubotuber Pus from its plant with his bare hands.

In the end, the house elves had been quicker, and had probably had enough of him and that damned tie lying biasedly on his bed day after day, and managed to snatch it and launder it properly.

The avocado was gone.

As he looked over at the girl copying her diagram — or, more specifically, at her hand to assure the pen wouldn't disappear into thin air — the familiar feeling of holes being bored into his head came back. He grimaced.

"Look behind me, see if she's staring," he whispered to Daphne, and the blonde lifted her head slightly to peer over his shoulder.

"She is."

He gave a world-weary sigh and rolled his eyes once more. "She is going to ask me for those damn boxes again."

"I say you cast Obliviate on her and end this nightmare."

His lip twitched up.

"Tough when you have to salvage your crush's reputation and hide her escapades from her other crush." She continued with an exaggerated sigh.

He grabbed the heaviest pillow he could find and threw it at her head, while she brought her hands up to protect her face. She laughed as her hair flew everywhere.

"Alright alright, sorry." She took a loud breath. "But seriously, I think Tracey might have been following you to know all that."

"Would you have guessed?" He replied sarcastically. "Stupid Library date, stupid Dean—"

"Is that what you asked of her? Where to find Dean?"

He cleared his throat and looked away.

"You know it's funny that if it weren't for Tracey, you two would have never been caught. Gryffindors have been outdoing us lately."

That was a low blow — not that Daphne knew any better.

Because in a way, in his twisted, homesick, lovestruck mind, that could just as easily add to the competition between you and her.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say some people have been… tarnishing our reputation…" She shot a glance behind them and he followed her gaze to Malfoy and his group. "While Gryffindors are prospering with all kinds of renegades. Harry Potter for once: he has been basically rewriting the rules of this school ever since he arrived. Ron Weasley, his best friend? might appear a bit as a nitwit, but I assure you he's lost more points in his first year than I did in five of my own. Even Hermione Granger is a little sly one, despite her goody-two-shoes image. And the Weasley twins… don't get me started on them. They are the inventors of the Skiving Snackboxes your little friend loves so much: the Weasley products have been thriving in this school."

He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest, and hoped Daphne had forgotten about you, but she had decided to twist the knife deeper — inadvertently of course.

"Not to mention…" and she knowingly quirked her head to the side, lifting her eyebrows in the meantime, "she's just as reckless and slightly more cunning. If she hadn't been a Muggle-born, I'm pretty sure she would be sitting in my place on this sofa right now."

That wasn't a low blow, that was a whole punch in his gut. Part of him wanted the girl to just stop talking.

Part of him wanted to know more.

"What makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "Well, she was almost a Hatstall, after all. The hat kept going back and forth between the two."

His throat did a strange thing, blowing out air so quickly he choked on his breath. He tried to cough as quietly as he could.

"S-So… she could have been a Slytherin?" He asked, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Daphne seemed to ponder.

"To be honest… I think she could have. But I don't really see her as an ambitious gal, do you? I think she is a perfect Gryffindor after all…"

He nodded absent-mindedly.

Yet another thing he added to his list.

-

"Why have you never visited the Undercroft?"

"I—"

To tell the truth, you had wanted to... but only when he wasn't there. Good old inquiry for your worries and doubts.

But he was there all the time.

Whenever you approached the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, you would see him wandering about, looking ever-so-suspicious as he pretended to strut nonchalantly through the hidden corridor.

He stood out like a Thestral in a herd of Unicorns.

It was a sight to see, really.

Once you had even approached him just as he was drawing his wand, and he had jumped up in alarm, as if you were a Muggle who had just seen him walk through the enchanted wall in King's Cross.

For a moment you thought he was going to erase your memories like some common Ministry minion.

He had obviously invited you in, with an expression on his face that you couldn't quite decipher: too welcoming and too afraid.

And a bit too hopeful.

But eventually you had to decline his offer, fearing another ambush by his fellow Rita Skeeter-wannabe Slytherin, and walked away.

You weren't quite sure what to make of the way his face seemed to fall faster than a Quidditch player hit by a bludger.

And whenever your separated Houses graced you with different planned lessons and, consequently, different free periods, it was either Umbridge strutting in that same corridor (albeit with a bit more authority and self-assurance than your classmate), Hermione dragging you back to the Common Room or the Library to study, or Fred and George cornering you to recruit you as a test subject for their new projects (from which you always managed to scurry away much to the twins' displeasure) that ruined your plans.

You were on your way to the Astronomy Tower when you saw the familiar head of messy brown waves walk towards you. And all your terrible luck and, quite frankly, not-so-nice neglect of that place Sebastian seemed to hold at heart had led you to this conversation.

"I mean, of course you don't have to come in if you don't want to, I just…"

He seemed at a loss for words, searching his mind for a reason to give you why you should visit the Undercroft with him.

And the way his eyes darted around as he turned his head slightly to the right and upwards told you that he perhaps had at least one, but one he'd rather keep to himself.

You didn't inquire.

"It's not that, I've just been… busy. O.W.L.s and stuff," you replied.

It was the most conventional answer a fifth-year could come up with, and frankly, most of the time it was rubbish, a fib of the highest order: any Hogwarts student could see through that lie like they could see through the numerous ghosts wandering out and about, and yet it was a silent agreement between the younglings to accept it as a reasonably polite excuse that most likely meant, 'I don't want to hang out with you'.

(Perhaps Hermione was the only exception: she actually meant it, but she didn't need to use it as an excuse either, because she tended to make it everyone's business. In a way, she saved the grades of most of her friends that way.)

Sebastian didn't seem to catch on, though — perhaps it was due to a cultural difference from his old school, you suspected — and you were actually glad of it, but he definitely had his difficulties reading between the lines and recognising the underlying implication.

"You… We… We could study there, though? I mean, McGonagall did tell me I needed a tutor."

(He had no care for tutors, he could catch up damn well on his own, thank you very much… but you didn't need to know that now, did you?)

"Isn't the Library better for that? Less dusty…"

"Less private," he replied with a playful smile.

You shook your head and let a chuckle escape your lips at his beckoning.

"Maybe… I usually need a special kind of environment to concentrate. As of now, the only three places that have lived up to that expectation were the Library, the Beech Tree and the Common Room," you answered honestly.

"The more the merrier, no?" He encouraged hopefully.

You almost gave in.

Almost.

In a way, you needed to talk to him about something important — he deserved to know as much as everyone else.

But not that night.

"We'll see, I suppose," you answered awkwardly, averting your eyes from his, not missing the way his face fell again.

-

Just the day after, though, as Sebastian was wallowing in self-pity at your conversation, as Sebastian was conveniently looking away from you as you sat next to him in Potion, you slipped him a piece of parchment on the table.

He did his best to ignore it, even going as far as pretending to swat it away as he reached for his Beetle Eyes, but in the end he couldn't keep his curiosity at bay.

'We need to talk.'

It was simple. Simply enervating. Simply invigorating.

Simple enough to make the Beetle Eyes fall from his hand.

He saw you frown at him as he quickly bent down to pick them up off the floor, and he would have gladly disappeared if you hadn't followed him to help.

"Butterfingers, eh?" You teased.

He couldn't stop the small smile on his face.

"What did you need to talk about?" Sebastian followed you out of the classroom as your fellow students walked to the Great Hall for lunch.

He stared frontwards and saw Hermione's head turn left and right in bewilderment. When he looked over at you to ask what she was searching for, you were gone.

Now, if he had also started to hallucinate you, he would have considered it his last straw.

But then Hermione turned back and your hand appeared from Salazar-knows-where to grab at his robes and pull him into another corridor.

You looked around urgently, assessing that no one was in earshot, before you turned back to him and conspiratorially whispered: "Hermione doesn't want me to tell you this..."

His eyebrows shot up, and so did his ego.

So you were about to tell him, even if Hermione didn't want you to.

His heart began waltzing again, and he wondered what sort of secret you wanted to share with him that was so important you were willing to betray your friend’s trust for it.

"What is it?" He asked, trying to appear nonchalant and level-headed, but letting the façade drop when you didn't buy it.

"Are you willing to break some rules? Well… again, I mean."

Now that he wasn't expecting, and a thousand scenarios of what 'breaking some rules again' meant for you crossed his mind.

He imagined another escapade in the Restricted Section, this time with no Tracey following you, but maybe involving that same wardrobe.

Or perhaps a journey into the Forbidden Forest, meeting Thestrals, fighting giant spiders, kissing against the trees.

He slapped his forehead and you flinched a bit.

"I'll… take that as a no?"

"I'm very keen on breaking rules," he moved that same hand through his hair, trying his best to ignore how stupid he must look with a red print the shape of his palm on his face, "just… er... just what do you mean?"

Another part of him dismissed his earlier thoughts of any intimacy and imagined you asking him to follow you on some sort of cloak-and-dagger adventure; imagined teaching you curses and spells, telling you his every thought and having you sharing yours in return, showing you every side of magic he was willing to explore still.

He wanted to pretend that you would follow him into the deep, dark abyss of immorality and sin, that you would take the Cruciatus Curse for him if he had asked, that you would forgive him if he had told you about Solomon, that you would stand by his side even after his soul had been warped and infected and lost, and that you would do your best to put it back together and keep it with you, safe in your arms.

Of course, that's not what happened.

"We're thinking about having secret Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons and we are supposed to meet this weekend in Hogsmeade to discuss the details. I figured, since you hate Umbridge just as much as the next person, that you deserved a chance."

His mouth fell open. Secret lessons?

"Like a secret club, or…?” He couldn’t help but think of Lucan Brattleby and how Crossed Wands would suffer without his presence. If any of them even noticed.

“We’re not sure yet, it's barely an idea. It’s just... you know how Umbridge has been treating our education, and given what has happened in the past few years, and especially last year, I think we should all be prepared for what’s out there.”

What's out there? Last year? How much did he still have to catch up on?

He knew about some Dark Wizard being around — Ron and Hermione had explained all about it his first day — but the way you spoke about it, the whole ordeal seemed far more serious than he had anticipated.

“Sure, count me in,” he simply said, clasping one hand in the other.

“Then we’ll meet this weekend and go to Hogsmeade together. Mind you, let’s stay away from Hermione at first, or she’ll become suspicious: it's better to ease her into the news once she has no way to moot… or argue.”

Sebastian didn’t want to let his thoughts wander.

But there was a certain word flying around in his mind that he desperately tried to keep under key.

“Is this a date?” He asked with a playful grin, letting the key fall with a clang.

You rolled your eyes. “Tell me why I knew you’d say that.”

That should have made him feel somewhat proud, but he only felt a painful twinge in his heart. Is that all you thought of him?

He bit the inside of his cheek.

“Do you have your permission slip?” You asked him, and he shrugged.

“I’m sure I’ll manage.”

-

The day came, just like any day when you live in a world where clocks just won’t stop.

And Sebastian dearly wished they would.

You were a few steps ahead of him — a well-conceived strategy not to let Hermione have her suspicions — and he just couldn’t stop staring at your hair.

And how it should be just a bit longer.

He wanted to slap his forehead again, but that would have drawn too much attention to himself, and, honestly, he could do with less attention lately. He already had too many holes in his skull from Tracey’s piercing eyes.

Add another one right through his glabella from Filch.

After the caretaker had ungracefully leaned in towards Harry Potter to smell him, he was now eyeing Sebastian up and down like he was a rat who stole cheese right under his nose.

His permission slip was perfectly valid, though, as Dumbledore himself had guaranteed for him given the circumstances.

He walked a few feet behind you, with Daphne following suit.

"So it's a date, or…?" She gave him a smirk.

"Not really." He replied curtly as he remembered your words.

As you reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade, you seemed to have found an excuse to separate yourself from the group, and he said goodbye to Daphne who in turn went and joined another Slytherin boy, whom Sebastian recognised from that day in Charms.

As soon as the trio was far enough that you could barely distinguish their shapes, you motioned Sebastian to join you, and he did so with a grin and a bouncing of his feet.

And a growing shame in his bones once he realised it.

"Well well, looks like you will be my tutor after all?" He tilted his head and let a small, teasing smile play on his lips.

You weren't looking at him, though, but at the spot on the ground right next to him, scrutinising it like it was the most interesting place in the Highlands. Your eyes then began running up and down under a frown, inspecting the air. He turned his head, half-expecting to see someone standing next to him, or at least anything more than the flying, rusty leaves.

"Are you seeing something I'm not?" He asked half-jokingly.

And then it hit him. Maybe you were seeing something he wasn't — maybe some white drops dancing on the ground, maybe traces of Ancient Magic, maybe your gift was actually there, only dormant, maybe—.

"Was Daphne not interested?" You interrupted his musing, finally gracing him with eye contact.

His chest seemed to deflate. "What?"

"In the lessons, I mean. I expected her to be, perhaps I was wrong."

Sebastian hadn't told Daphne what his meeting with you was for: he had thought it was a secret between you two. Sure, he knew Hermione would be there, and if she was, so would Ron and Harry, but it would have been easier to steal you away from three people than more.

He had even planned the lessons in his mind like a madman, dreaming of the day when he could teach you everything you didn't already know yourself.

"Uh... she had something else to do."

You nodded in acknowledgement. "We're meeting at the Hog's Head. It's a bit more hidden and away from prying eyes. No one would mind if a bunch of students suddenly came in there."

A bunch? How many people were supposed to intrude?

It's not intruding, he reminded himself. This wasn't his idea. He was the one intruding.

"Fine by me… so, how many people are we talking about?"

"A few… could be ten, could be twenty…" you shrugged.

That was a great deal more than a few.

"Good… all right…"

There was a beat of silence as the two of you set foot on the High Street.

“So, I had promised Hermione I’d meet them beforehand, so you’ll either come with me and witness her wrath, or you’ll come in with everybody else and endure the ugly stares they're going to throw your way.”

The boy stared at you for a moment. “You have an awful way of making people feel welcomed.”

"I'm glad," you smiled and cocked your head to the side. He sighed.

"Wouldn't I get ugly stares nonetheless?"

"Yes, probably, but in that case I'll be there, and I'll guarantee for you."

"I'll send you an owl next time I'll face trial in front of the Wizengamot."

You turned your head away with a dampened smile.

There were a few new houses around the village and fewer shops than in his time, at least on the main street.

"I assume the school has been lending you its supplies in the past two weeks?" You asked.

"It has, but McGonagall has advised me to buy my own earliest opportunity."

"Well, seems like an opportunity to me," you grinned up at him. "Come on, let's indulge in some calm before the storm."

He gave a low chuckle.

The two of you walked through the town, stopping every once in a while to greet other students or shop for supplies. He had a limited budget — he didn’t have his own money after all — and made sure to pay extra attention to the prices.

You didn't comment on it for which he was glad.

"Are those the infamous Weasley twins?" Sebastian asked when a tall, red-haired boy sent you a wave from the entrance of Zonko's Joke Shop.

"That's Fred, the other is George. Infamous, huh?" You waved back.

So they were the Fred and George you had mentioned.

After a last stop at J. Pippin's Potions, you suddenly turned towards him.

"It's time, I believe."

He felt the hairs stand on his neck and nodded, following you to a side street, towards a small, scruffy Inn with the picture of a severed boar’s head over its entrance sign.

“That looks cosy,” you muttered and pushed the door open.

Now he could understand the fuss about that Gryffindor boldness, because he would have happily hesitated outside a bit more.

Sebastian followed suit, stepping on the soft ground of the pub. He frowned slightly and looked down, confused as to why one would deprive himself of the privilege of a stone floor.

It turned out the only privilege the owner deprived himself of was hygiene.

“This place hasn’t been cleaned in centuries, has it?” He asked, kicking the dirt with the point of his shoes.

“Adds to the aesthetic I suppose.” You chuckled, handing him a dusty, dirty bottle of Butterbeer.

He frowned. “No glass?”

“Oh I don’t think you want a glass,” you sent a glance to the dirty rug resting in the transparent cups on the counter, “might as well chug from the bottle like real cool drunks.”

You cleaned the top with your sleeve and brought it between your teeth, cracking it open. He did the same.

“If only it were alcoholic.”

“Everything can be alcoholic if you bring extra aid.”

He chuckled, and then reached for his pocket. “How much do I owe you?”

“Just be quiet and let me do the talking. That’s my prize,” you whispered, sending a glance to the trio sitting at the far end of the bar, hidden behind the wall at the entrance which was mercifully still shielding you two from your ugly fate.

“Here goes nothing,” and you stepped forward, letting the three Gryffindors see you. Sebastian followed right after.

And while the trio seemed happy to see you, their expressions quickly changed upon landing eyes on the Slytherin boy. They sent you a look of disappointment and confusion that sent chills down his spine.

“Before you say a word,” you began, placing the dusty bottle on the table, “let me explain.”

“It was supposed to be private,” Hermione said between gritted teeth.

“No,” you interjected, now getting worked up. “You said it was open to anyone who wanted to learn, and he —” you pointed at the boy behind you, who would have most surely liked to be swallowed by the filthy ground under him, “— wants to learn.”

He gave them a tight-lipped smile, mustering as much poise and politeness as he could.

“But he… he’s —”

“He’s what?” You cocked an eyebrow daringly. “A Slytherin? Who gives a damn.”

Sebastian flinched at your harshness, but his chest warmed up nonetheless… and no, it wasn’t because of the Butterbeer. Hermione seemed to deflate in her seat, gasping once or twice before finally yielding.

“Fine… I— I suppose if you trust him…”

“I do.” You interrupted, and scooted closer to him for good measure. He couldn't have stopped his face from flushing even if he wanted to.

Harry and Ron only glanced at each other with wide eyes and buried their attention in the bottle in their hands.

"Well, that was easy enough," Sebastian whispered to you once you sat down, making sure the trio wouldn't be able to hear his words.

"Shut up. My heart's beating in my face," you sighed slowly, taking place next to him and downing half of your bottle in one go. He suppressed a chuckle, and you nudged his arm with your elbow in protest.

"You have Butterbeer on your lips," he observed, his lips stretched into a smirk.

Your eyes widened and you quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of your robes, a light blush on your cheeks. "If you breathe so much as a word..."

"You missed a spot," he taunted you further, grabbing a napkin from the table and leaning in to clean it for you, but you flinched away from it.

"I'm not putting that thing anywhere near my mouth." — you attempted to do it yourself, using your robes again — "There are probably traces of Spattergroit from the eighteen hundreds."

He rolled his eyes and tossed it back on the table. "Fair enough, although the eighteen hundreds aren't as far back as you think." He pushed his sleeve down to cover his palm, keeping it in place with his thumb, and gently brought it to your lips, holding your chin in place with his other hand.

You stared at him as he cleaned your lips. If he weren't so gentle in the way his fingers pressed on your jaw, and the way the fabric only lightly caressed your skin, you wouldn't have felt your breath hitch as it did. And your heart would probably be doing its own job properly instead of missing so many damn beats.

His eyes were tender as he examined your face, fleeting over your skin to find any drop he might have missed. "We wouldn't want you to make a bad impression at such an important meeting."

"Oh, shut up," you averted your eyes, feeling your cheeks burn at his words, and his gaze finally met yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and you felt a twinge of guilt at your harsh words. "Thank you."

Your voice was breathless and shaky, and you cursed yourself internally for it. Sebastian only suppressed a smirk as he let his eyes linger on your lips for a second more.

"You're welcome."

Much to his dismay, his eyes inadvertently shot to the trio next to the two of you, who had been watching it all unfold with wide eyes, looking between you and Sebastian like they had missed a crucial Charms lesson right before their O.W.L.s.

You cleared your throat and moved away from the boy, your finger tapping nervously on the bottle in your hands, and he let go of his sleeve, smoothing the wrinkles caused by his grip.

-

After some small talk, Sebastian heard the door opening and a crowd of people trooped into the pub. He noticed a bunch of Ravenclaw girls, followed by a group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. No Slytherins came at the rear, much to his disappointment. Maybe he should have invited Daphne, after all.

One of the first people to enter, though, was Dean, and Sebastian immediately noticed the way your eyes seemed to light up at his sight. He took another swig and averted his eyes.

“A couple of people?” said Harry, his green eyes looking even wider behind his glasses as he stared at Hermione in bewilderment. “A couple of people?”

“Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular. Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?”

The red-head grunted and stood up. Sebastian had half a mind to help, but he couldn’t risk losing his seat next to you to Dean Thomas, so he stayed put.

One of the twins approached the counter with long strides and a charming smile. “Could we have —” he stopped to count his companions “— twenty-five Butterbeers, please?”

Poor barman, Sebastian thought as his eyes were lazily set on the man getting down and back up behind the counter twenty-five times.

“Cheers!” Said twin began handing them out. “Cough up, everyone, I haven’t got enough gold for all of these.”

The Slytherin boy watched in contemplation as the students began searching in their bags and purses for Sickles, and at the same time ignored the dirty and confused stares sent his way all the same.

“What have you been telling people?” he heard Harry whisper to Hermione urgently. “What are they expecting?”

“I’ve told you, they just want to hear what you’ve got to say. You don’t have to do anything yet, I’ll speak to them first.” She replied nervously.

After a few greetings here and there, the students finally sat down (there was an abnormally large distance between Sebastian’s seat and the Ravenclaw girl next to him, who seemed to eye him like he was a leper). Hermione took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Well — er — hi,” she gulped loudly. “Well… erm…. Well, you know why you’re here. W—Well, Harry here had the idea…” Said boy shot her an ugly glance and her voice became even more nervous as she backtracked on her words. “I mean… I had the idea that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts…. a-and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us, because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts—”

“Hear, hear,” a Hufflepuff boy interrupted the girl and she seemed to shrink onto herself.

“Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands… And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells—” 

“You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?” said a Ravenclaw boy, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” Hermione replied indignantly. “But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because… because...”

Sebastian looked at her, his interest piqued when he saw your hands nervously crumple with each other under the table.

“Because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

There was an immediate reaction that made Sebastian frown, bemused. Some students shrieked, others spilled their drinks on themselves, others shuddered and murmured, afraid.

How could a name possibly incite such a response?

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” a blond Hufflepuff boy asked rather harshly.

“Well, Dumbledore believes it—”

“You mean, Dumbledore believes him,” he shot Harry a glance.

“Who are you?” Ron intruded defensively.

“Zacharias Smith, and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back.”

Hermione sighed and lowered her voice to a calm tone. “Look, that’s really not what this meeting was supposed to be about—”

“It’s okay, Hermione,” said Harry, his voice more alive than Sebastian had ever heard it. If a voice could drip venom, the Slytherin was sure there would be a puddle on the floor already.

“What makes me say You-Know-Who’s back? I saw him.” the black-haired boy said, staring straight at Zacharias Smith with unwavering eyes. “But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.”

Sebastian could see the tough facade begin to slip from the Hufflepuff’s face.

“All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know —”

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you. I don’t want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

Sebastian faltered at his words and looked at you, hoping to meet your gaze. Something that could at least ease the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. But you didn't indulge him, your eyes trained on your friend, your hands clung to each other in your lap.

“So,” Hermione began again, her voice even more nervous after Harry sent a piercing, angry gaze towards her. “Like I was saying… if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to meet, and where we’re going to —”

“Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?” A girl with long hair interrupted, aloof to Hermione's words, and looked at Harry, who confirmed it, still not lowering his guard. “A corporeal Patronus?”

Sebastian stared at Harry with curiosity as the girl introduced herself as Susan Bones. Producing a Corporeal Patronus in your fifth year was nothing short of impressive.

"You make a stag Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Blimey, Harry! I never knew that!” A Gryffindor boy grinned at him.

One of the twins chuckled. “Mum told Ron not to spread it around. She said you got enough attention as it was.”

“She’s not wrong….”

“And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office?” asked a Ravenclaw rather excitedly. “That’s what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…”

“Er — yeah, I did, yeah,” said Harry.

There was a murmur of surprise and approval, some whistles and "wow"s reaching Sebastian's ears. But he ignored them. His eyes widened as he looked at the boy, and then at you as if expecting you to turn around and tell him this was all a prank, or that people were just making up rumours as Hogwarts students tended to do.

But your face was hard as stone, your posture straight and unwavering as you looked at your friend proudly.

“And in our first year,” another Gryffindor — who Sebastian had heard being called Neville — added, excited to have something to include in the conversation, “he saved that Philological Stone —”

“Philosopher’s,” Hermione corrected.

“Yes, that, from You-Know-Who.”

“And that’s not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past Dragons and Merpeople and Acromantulas and things…” added a Ravenclaw girl with long black hair, sending Harry a soft glance.

Sebastian's hands trembled around the bottle as he spaced out looking at the dirty floor. Dragons… Acromantulas… all thpse seemed a bit too familiar for his comfort. He shot you a glance again, hoping you'd turn around that time and tell him that it was no big deal. That you could do more. That you could do more with him .

He didn't know if he was more shocked at the fact that Harry — a simple wizard with no Ancient Magic — could accomplish all of this on his own or the fact that you — her direct descendant — hadn't.

“Look, I…” Harry sighed, interrupting Sebastian's train of thoughts. “I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to be modest or anything, but I had a lot of help with all that stuff.”

“Not with the dragon, you didn’t,” the Ravenclaw boy sitting next to Ron’s sister spoke again. “That was a seriously cool bit of flying….”

“Yeah, well—”

“And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer,” said Susan Bones.

Dementors as well?

“No, no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I’m trying to make is —”

“Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” said Zacharias Smith.

“Here’s an idea, why don’t you shut your mouth?” Ron said rudely, looking as if wanting to punch said boy right in the nose.

“Well, we’ve all turned up to learn from him, and now he’s telling us he can’t really do any of it,” Zacharias blushed.

Both the twins stepped in, taking out a large metal instrument they had bought from Zonko’s Joke Shop and branding it threateningly.

“That’s not what he said”

“Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?”

“Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this.”

“Yes, well, moving on…” Hermione sighed tiredly, “the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?”

A murmur broke through the pub, but overall, everyone seemed to be in favour. And here went all of Sebastian's plans. He wondered how suited Harry was for this. Sure, he had accomplished a lot, but… how much did he really know? How many spells could he actually teach him? How many spells could he teach you?

And for the first time, he felt a pang of jealousy that wasn't directed towards Dean Thomas.

“Right." Hermione continued. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week—”

“Hang on, we need to make sure this doesn’t clash with our Quidditch practice.” A tall Gryffindor girl interrupted solemnly.

“No, nor with ours.” Said the Ravenclaw girl.

“Nor ours,” added Zacharias Smith proudly.

Hermione seemed to refrain herself from rolling her eyes. “I’m sure we can find a night that suits everyone, but you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort’s Death Eaters—”

“Well said! Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!” Another Hufflepuff chimed in cheerfully, looking around his companions as if inciting a crowd. “I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who , but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —”

“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts is that she’s got some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he’d mobilise us against the Ministry.” Hermione explained.

Sebastian took another swig of his Butterbeer. Not only was Umbridge useless, she was also completely daft.

After some more discussion — and an argument initiated by a blonde Ravenclaw girl with big blue eyes about Heliopaths, a Ministry army and Spirits of fire Sebastian couldn’t care less about, they finally got to talk about where to meet.

“Hem, hem,” it was Ron’s sister who interrupted the argument, coughing in a perfect imitation of Umbridge that made Sebastian snort. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and get Defense lessons?”

“Yes  we were, you’re right. Well, the other thing to decide is where we’re going to meet...” Hermione sighed.

A few students began suggesting different places.

“Library?”

“I can’t see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library,” said Harry.

“Maybe an unused classroom?” said Dean, and your eyes shot to him immediately. Sebastian hid his scowl behind the bottle top.

“Yeah, McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising for the Triwizard…” Ron said thoughtfully.

You sent Sebastian a side glance and he panicked, his heart skipping several beats. Were you about to suggest what he thought you were about to suggest?

He sent you a pleading look back, but you had already looked away from him and he braced for the worst. But you didn’t speak.

“Right, well, we’ll try to find somewhere. We’ll send a message round to everybody when we’ve got a time and a place for the first meeting.” Hermione said, taking a parchment and a quill from her bag. “I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here.”

There was some resistance from the students: many of them didn’t look too happy to put their name on a list that everyone could read (the Hufflepuff, for once, was pretty quick to backtrack on his statement), especially with something as delicate as this, given the circumstances.

The twins were the first to sign, and then you yourself took the parchment and wrote your name without hesitation. After that, the students seemed more and more convinced and lined up in front of the parchment. After everyone had finished, Sebastian had a strange feeling rising inside him, as if he had signed a contract he couldn't get out of. It worried him and he looked up suspiciously at Hermione and then down at you, who didn't seem fazed at all.

It wasn't long before the crowd began to disperse, and you too decided to leave the filthy inn and say goodbye to the trio. Sebastian followed you outside.

"For a moment I thought you were going to suggest the Undercroft as a place..." He chuckled gauzily.

"For a moment I thought so too," you replied, lost in thought.

His breath caught.

"S-So, is all that true? What they said - what Harry did?"

"Yes, of course," you turned to him, puzzled by his question about your friend's achievements. “You had never heard of him?”

Yet another mistake he had made: the lack of thorough research into his contemporary environment.

"Let us say that I ... never indulge in gossip."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Of course..."

"But I noticed the scar," he added, hoping you would tell him more.

You shrugged and turned back around. "Who hasn't?"

"Very peculiar shape."

"Yeah well, it's only one of the most powerful curses there is. Nothing too big." You retorted sarcastically.

He felt a cold wave wash over him as he confirmed his suspicions.

"The- The Killing Curse."

"The boy who lived."

His heart stopped in his chest.

Taglist

@lovely-maryj @yuzuhasbae @mosf13 @rbfacee @prichuchan-blog @h0neeyy_@lina-prongs @moonlightsolo @ninicol @gayandfairycore @nanako-sakura @epicy0n @shiro-from-cafeberry  @pugsnotdrugs92  @cappsikle  @peacedreamer14 @vanivivs

[centrally-unplanned]

Alright, last batch:

The first half of these are "Official" Anime Books. We have the Official Guide Books for Yuru Camp & Bocchi the Rock, modern buys from a Kinokuniya. They are what you would expect: character designs, concept art, episode & story guides, cast & crew interviews, etc. I was very happy with the level of photography they have - Laid Back Camp of course has a ton of pages comparing photographs of the actual camp sites with their anime depictions, while the Bocchi book has a bunch of Shimo-Kitazawa scene spotting. The Bocchi book also has a page laying out all of the art used in its EDs, which I really love for their pastel-chibi style, very kino:

But I will admit how standardized this style of book has become is a little sad - these two unrelated anime have nearly identical layouts, because that is how it works these days. There is a reason I am drawn to the earlier history of anime so much, it was way more unfiltered. A minor note though on otherwise very fun buys.

Finally we have Haruhi-ism: The Art of Noizi Ito. This is a full-on waifu book, just a big collection of splash art of Haruhi being Haruhi and the rest of cast dealing with her bullshit with erotic flecks sprinkled throughout. A real whim buy as I picked it up for a few dollars; the used book market in Japan is truly amazing, I get now how people build such massive collections. What is cute though is that Noizi Ito is the illustrator for the light novels; she didn't work on the anime in any real way, and it shows:

Kyon and Mikuru have the greatest difference in design, but the style difference hits them all in some ways. The anime's visual design is of course far more omnipresent that the light novel illustrations are; it makes this book feel like its from a slightly parallel universe, where Ito was brought on to do the designs for the anime so its entire concept is shifted just a bit to the metaphorical left. The Berenstein Bears branch of Haruhi's multiverse, if you will.

The bottom three are more unique - additions to what I would call the "otaku studies" collection, books by otaku doing media or cultural analysis of anime or otakudom itself. First is A New Millenialist Perspective on the Daughters of Eve, by Mari Kotani, which is a feminist & post-modernist exploration of Evangelion. This whole genre of books...well, here is the back cover, in English for your convenience:

"Here, post-structuralist psychoanalytical theory will enable us to define Angel as the representation of 'abjection' in-" okay buddy, put down the weed and step away from the graduate studies applications, lets go for a walk. Seriously, stuff like this was absolutely in the water in 90's Japan; it was going through a huge wave of psycho-analytic sociology that broke into the mainstream. Back in the day there was a tendency to use this stuff as a way to "understand Eva" - that is backwards, Evangelion is not that deep. But instead, you can see works like these as a byproduct of fandom and the media mix - how Evangelion's brand as the "intellectual's show" was propagated and reinforced over time, and how a certain kind of fan related to it. Eva-as-show does not need these texts, but Eva-as-cultural-event was built from bricks like these. Its not the biggest "Eva philosophy" book but was well-enough known in its day, so it should be fun to read.

Okay, I'll be quick on the others: next is Kurahon, by Hideyuki Kurata - manga author of works like Read or Die. This books is a bunch of autobiographical-style essays about him being a complete hikikomori shut-in otaku collector maniac, complete with 2D Girl supremacy tracts and manifestos for the life of the outsider. Its extremely 2000's in its genre, this kind of ideology would die down as otaku culture transitioned fro- NOT NOW, deep breaths, whew, back on topic. Anyway, this books is insane, this is literally the first in-line image in the book as you go through his text:

Kurata is a lunatic, but he is my kind of lunatic, and this text has a level of raw, intense honesty and cultural reflection in it that really makes it stand out.

Last book is an edition of the print series Eureka! Haruhi Suzumiya Edition, which was a literary & cultural studies joint that collected essays on topics. Wait, one sec...sorry, not 'was', 'is', they are still at it! They have an upcoming collection on Tolkein, cool. Anyway, this of course falls into a similar genre of the Eva book as being quite high-concept, but is from a more diverse set of authors and is a bit more grounded. It has a whole section on Doujin and meta-textual elements in the anime fandom of Haruhi, excited to read that.

Okay okay, that is the Japan books, generally. Though I did realize that I had imported a few things before that I never posted about when they arrived, I might throw those on the stack and do a post about a few...

[thee-rat-king]

S & D Tier Comic Adaptation - Issue 1 (draft one)

This is deeply unfinished by I believe in showing my work and this is my first time scripting a comic. It’s not professional formatting, but I’m doing my best and I’d like to share what I have so far. Constructive feedback is appreciated!!

(NOTE: I know that describing panel layout is a bit gauche, I have done it in a few places just for visualisation, as this is being read by anyone, not just a specific art team)

Page 1

Panels 1-4 - introductory splash art of four seperate FAIRNESS ASSOCIATION HEROS. (first draft first draft I don’t have all the details yet).

Panel 5 (central inset) - a group of FAIRNESS ASSOCIATION HEROS, led by THE CHADSTER are flying towards the outer atmosphere in the invisible jet.

Chad: my friends, this time I am certain we shall defeat this dastardly villain

FAH #2: [something vaguely reasonable, Alex is Big Scary blah blah blah]

Page 2 and 3 - a double page spread of SPACE!!! it is BIG AND EMPTY!!! To the lower left of page 2 we see the invisible jet. It is very small compared to the vastness of SPACE!!!

Page 4 and 5 - another double page spread. Wow!! I’m so creative. This also shows the vastness of SPACE!!! Except that now ALEX is in the centre. They look unbearably hot (details unimportant). To the lower left of page 4 the invisible jet has been disrupted as though by a sonic blast. To clarify ALEX is big enough that they could probably pick the jet up in one hand if they wanted to.

Page 6 (three single image strips with the vastness of SPACE in the background)

Panel 1 - FAHs 1 and 4 (I really need to give them names) blast out of the front windshield of the invisible jet

SFX: CRASH

Panel 2: ALEX grabs FAH 3 from the wreck, who is actively firing back at them with their laser vision (to no effect)

Panel 3: CHAD and FAH 2 watch on from the wreckage of the invisible jet, leaping into action (note: I cannot for the life of me remember what chads powers are rn. That is perhaps why he’s not doing much yet).

Page 7

No idea of the formatting, I got bored of vague art direction with no dialogue. It’s going to be a maybe 7 panel layout depicting a the heroes and Alex fighting their way back towards earth. Maybe a second group of heros in the distance. IDK how powerful I should establish Alex to be this early ?? (I’m not changing anything, but pretend this is going to be read by a fresh audience. Information is shared in bits and pieces.) (chants under breath: first draft first draft)

Page 8

Panel 1 - a column up the left side of the page showing a perfectly normal, if slightly industrial apartment building in a nice city

Panel 2 - wide shot! A nice, comfy apartment. One wall has a BDG-style conspiracy theory board, maybe with an old treasure map pinned to it, but otherwise the room in very normal

Panel 3 - mid shot, in an armchair MORGAN is reading a book. They are average looking (details unimportant), and wearing a soft jumper.

Panel 4 - MORGAN takes a sip of tea, and continues to read their book. Perhaps there is a fucked up statue in the background.

SFX: siiiiip

Panel 5 - wide shot of the apartment, from one side ALEX comes through the door loudly, while on the other MORGAN is in their armchair. (Or couch?? Maybe it should be a couch. Or a beanbag chair.)

Page 9

Panel 1 - close up of ALEX walking towards MORGAN

Alex: the heroes foiled my plans and blew up my castle

Panel 2 - MORGAN in their armchair, looking surprised as ALEX continues

Alex: then they chased me into the outer atmosphere! And they know I killed Rebecca the Rebreathable last month

Panel 3 - ALEX sits

Morgan: that’s weird

Alex: no, that’s pretty much the norm

Panel 4 - Morgan and Alex face each other, either in chairs or on a couch

Morgan: really? Because that hasn’t been my experiance at all

Panel 5 (this takes up like, the bottom half of the page). MORGAN talking happily while ALEX looks on in bemused confusion

Morgan: like, when they rescued that person I kidnapped last week they also fixed my toaster and found my car keys and all the pieces to the jigsaw puzzle I dropped last week, and they fixed the electrical issues with the cable car, and the cleaned up my junk draw, and set the timer on my microwave…….

Image fades into the bottom of the page with no hard cutoff, as MORGAN presumably continues on with the list of things the “point-and-click” heroes did.

———

Thanks for reading!! In case you didn’t know, most of the dialogue on page 9 is taken from the original video that started S&D Tier. I’m not sure how many changes will happen between this VERY PRELIMINARY FIRST DRAFT and the actual final comic, but I’m excited! (Yes this is just 9 pages. The next one will be longer. It’s a start.)

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Mahiru is an artist and he goes to the beach for inspiration. While he’s distracted drawing, he becomes trapped by the tide. (KuroMahi, Human AU)

Mahiru walked along the beach with a sketchbook in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He was a professional artist and he wanted to make a collection of paintings with a summer theme. Beaches were a common landscape to paint, he hoped he could find something in the night to inspire him. The air was cool around him and the beach was quiet aside from the waves crashing over the sand.

He stared at the sea that held a sense of alluring mystery and strength. The moon reflected in the water kept his attention and its soft colour captured his imagination. The reflection was crystal white at first glance but, the more he stared at it, he saw a pale blue glow against the dark water. Mahiru wondered how the moon’s reflection would appear underwater.

“Maybe I can paint a merman.” He mused out loud to himself. Mahiru flipped open his sketchbook and he made a small note of the idea in the corner of a page. He wanted to think of other possible things he could paint. He returned his sketchbook to his bag and he continued to walk along the beach. A large boulder blocked his view of the moon’s reflection in the distance. He imagined a lonely merman sitting on the rock and staring at the moon.

He slipped off his shoes and he stepped into the sea. The tall boulder was the same height as him and it stood close to the shore. The water pooled around his ankles when he stood at the base. He tilted his head back and he wondered what the view would be from the height. Mahiru climbed up the boulder and he discovered that the top of the boulder was flat and wide. He was able to sit on the boulder comfortably and he looked over the sea.

Mahiru took out his flashlight and he shone it over the area to study the details in the rock for his painting. He leaned over the side and he watched the sea beat against the boulder. The water left an impression on the surface for a few minutes before it faded. He sat back and he felt something rigged against his palm. When he lifted his hand, he discovered a seashell fossilized in the boulder.

He immediately took out his sketchbook to draw the shell. While the seashell wouldn’t fit his summer theme, the design intrigued him and he wanted to sketch it. Whether he could incorporate the shell in a future drawing or have it stay a simple sketch, he didn’t want to miss the chance to capture the image before him. He positioned his flashlight on his bag and pointed it at the shell so he could see it better.

He drew the loose shape of the fossilized shell. Mahiru slowly added more details to the sketch and the image started to take form on the paper. The moon was bright that night but he needed to strain his eyes as he drew. He knew that it would be easier to take a photo on his phone and use it as reference later. However, he was worried he would lose inspiration if he waited to draw the rare fossil.

Mahiru drew the last line of ridges on the seashell and he closed his sketchbook. He swung his legs over the ledge of the boulder to climb down and cold water sent a shiver through him. He immediately pulled his feet out of the water and he hugged his legs for warmth after the initial shock. While he had been sketching, he hadn’t noticed how much time had passed nor how the tides were slowly rising around him.

Now, he was trapped on the boulder and surrounded by water.

He took his flashlight to fully assess the situation. Mahiru measured the height of the water with his eyes. Since the boulder was the same height as him, he could see that the water reached his nose. He knew how to swim but he would risk ruining his sketchbook and artwork in the water. He couldn’t stay on the boulder overnight either. The tide could rise higher and overtake the boulder and the cold night would make him sick.

Mahiru considered calling his friends for help but they were likely asleep and it would take them a while to drive to the beach. He picked up his flashlight and he held it above his head. Hopefully, someone passing the beach would notice the light and help him. He took a deep breath and he screamed as loud as he could, only for it to be drowned out by the ocean. “If only mermaids were real, one could save me.”

A light on the shoreline flickered and hope rose in Mahiru. The waves around him were too loud for them to speak and he moved his flashlight in a circular motion to respond to the person on shore. The light faded and he prayed that the person had understood him. Mahiru squinted his eyes against the darkness and he saw someone wade through the water towards him. Between the darkness and the distance between them, he couldn’t see the person well.

When the man stepped into the moonlit water, Mahiru almost thought he was a merman. He couldn’t help but study his features as an artist. He had sharp features that contrasted his soft lips. His wet hair was the colour of the moon reflected on the sea. Drops of water clung to his smooth skin as he pushed his hair back and out of his red eyes. He was tall because the water only reached his shoulders.

“What are you doing out here at night? Troublesome.” The man said. “Can you swim?”

“Yes, but that’s not the reason I’m stuck on this rock.” Mahiru held up his art bag and explained. “I came here to sketch the landscape. I didn’t notice the tides coming in until it was too late. If I try to swim, everything I drew tonight will be ruined. Can you carry me to shore on your back? Wait, do you think you’re strong enough for me to sit on your shoulders? That way, I’ll be tall enough to keep my bag safe. I’m not that heavy either.”

“I want to help you but the only person who can wrap their legs around my head is someone I’m dating.” His comment made Mahiru blush. He only thought was to keep his art safe from the water and he hadn’t considered how strange the situation would be for the man. He was still kind enough to hold out his hand to him. “How about I just carry your bag for you and you swim back to shore on your own? I promise, I won’t drop it and your things will stay dry.”

“Thank you— I don’t know your name. Mine is Mahiru Shirota.” He introduced himself and handed him his bag.

“Kuro Sleepy Ash Servamp.” He lifted the bag over his bag. With his other hand, Kuro helped him climb down from the rock.

Mahiru was careful not to move quickly and not cause a splash. His feet touched the sand and he realized that he would have to walk to his hotel without his shoes. He had left his shoes near the water and the tide likely pulled them into the sea while he was drawing. He told himself that he could buy his shoes but it was impossible to regain the time and love he put into his art.

They walked through the sea towards the shore. Kuro had lived in the small beach town for years but he didn’t recognize Mahiru. While he didn’t have many close friends, he was certain he would remember someone with brown eyes as beautiful as his. The colour was common but it shimmered like velvet. He assumed that Mahiru was a tourist.

“I’m lucky that you were passing by and you saw me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come to my rescue.” Mahiru said as they stepped out of the water. He lifted the hem of his white shirt and twisted the fabric to wring out as much water as he could. His wet clothes made the breeze colder and he shivered. “My hotel is across the street so I can dry up quickly. What about you?”

“I was driving home when I saw your flashlight. My jeans are going to feel like ice the entire drive home. Can’t deal.” He groaned to himself. Kuro searched the darkness for his shoes and jacket that he had discarded before he jumped into the water. He pulled out his car keys from his jacket pocket and he started to walk away. “See you.”

“Don’t go yet.” Mahiru jumped forward and he grabbed Kuro’s arm to stop him from leaving. “You’re going to get sick if you stay in those wet clothes. I don’t want that to happen after you saved my sketchbook. Thinking simply, you should come with me to my hotel room. You can use one of the hotel towels. It’ll be my way to thank you.”

Kuro debated if he should go with Mahiru. It would often take a while for him to become comfortable and trust a person. Mahiru didn’t appear to be dangerous and his voice only held concern for him. His brown eyes silently pleaded with him to accept and he was tempted to take Mahiru’s hand. Then, another cool breeze passed them and he saw him shiver. He took his dry jacket and he draped it over his shoulders. “Let’s go before we both catch a cold.”

Mahiru dried himself in the room while Kuro used the bathroom. He had changed into clean clothes and sat on the bed with his sketchbook. He wanted to take a shower after swimming in salt water but he decided it was best to wait until Kuro left to do so. While he believed he was a good person after he saved him, he knew he had to be cautious of leaving a stranger alone with his things.

“What are you drawing?” Mahiru jumped in surprise at the sound of Kuro’s voice because he hadn’t heard him leave the bathroom. He stood in the doorway wearing a hotel robe and his hair was a little damp from his shower. He thought of how he first saw Kuro standing in the water. The hotel room was better lit and Mahiru could see him better.

“You’re as quiet as a cat. You almost gave me a heart attack.” Mahiru said with a warm laugh. He nodded towards Kuro’s jeans hanging over the suite’s fireplace. “I hope you don’t mind that I stole your jeans while you were in the shower. They’ll dry quicker with the heat. I told Misono he didn’t need to book me such a fancy hotel room but now I’m grateful.”

“Is Misono your boyfriend? I should run away before he returns and assume the worst when he sees me.” Kuro said as a joke but he felt a hint of disappointment. Between Mahiru’s warm personality and how attractive he was, he would easily have a boyfriend.

“Misono and I aren’t dating. We’re just friends. He’s also my manager so he helped me plan this trip where I could do research for my next art collection.” Mahiru flipped over his sketchbook so Kuro could see the landscape he was working on. “What about your girlfriend? Earlier, you said you would only let the person you’re dating wrap their legs around you.”

“I’m not dating anyone either.” Kuro sat in front of him and he couldn’t take his eyes off the stunning balcony he had drawn. The balcony overlooked the sea and a merman was partially hidden in the shadow of the building. At first glance, the scene was simple but Kuro could see the small details he had drawn into the structure. The drawing was made with charcoal yet he was able to portray a spectrum of shades. He didn’t know much about art yet it was easy to see that Mahiru was talented. “This is great.”

“Thank you, Kuro.” His compliment made Mahiru beam with happiness. Mahiru doubted he could tell Kuro that he was the one who inspired the artwork. “My next collection has a summer theme so I came to this beach town for inspiration. My manager will yell at me for getting distracted and making something outside of that theme.”

“I grew up here so I know a lot of secret places that might inspire you. I can write down directions to them.” Kuro offered. “Do you have a pen?”

“Exploring the city more is a great idea but I think I’ll need a tour guide so I don’t get lost. Are you free tomorrow?” Mahiru asked with a light blush. “I’ll pay you for your time with dinner.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the boulder where we met.”

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | ii

genre: vampire!jaehyun

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

important note: the au’s i write for nct members do not, in any way, reflect them in real life. they are only my muses for my writing and an addition to enliven my fictions! ♡

“father, i must confess

i tasted the devil,

orison in my lips

with blood on his teeth,

how could he taste like

honeysuckle,

the bitter tang of revulsion,

and the carnage of war?

father, i kissed the devil

even if i should not

will you punish me

now that i see burnish gold

in his hands

instead of blood?”

— bane of the devil // ii

A nervous chuckle broke free out of your mouth by the mention of the word ‘vampire’. Agitation filled your whole body; your fingers started to shake, your heart beating in frenetic patterns inside your chest. Jaehyun laid still, all bloodied and nearly unconscious on the sofa.

“Are you crazy?” You managed to croak, the tightness in your throat making it hard for you to speak.

Perhaps the pain of his laceration made him delusional. Perhaps Johnny told him about the death of your parents. Perhaps he knows about your obsession towards vampires. Perhaps, perhaps—

“A little bit out of my mind, yes.” His chest and shoulders vibrated by the toneless chuckle his mouth released. “Crazy? No.” Jaehyun’s eyes were still closed, but a playful smile was displayed on his lips. You have no idea how could he smile despite of his situation. He must be really deranged.

“You must be in so much pain,” you sympathized. A single paper cut hurts like hell, what more when it’s a long gash in your stomach? The mere thought was enough to make you recoil in your seat. So, you tried not to dwell in Jaehyun’s pain as you continued to sew his skin back together.

“I don’t feel anything at all.” Then he sat up from the sofa and brought his forefinger to the wound. He pressed his finger down on the incision, causing his blood to gush down his jeans.

You slapped his hand away, while he chuckles as if he enjoys seeing his blood. “What the hell?!”

“See?” he sighed before leaning back on the sofa. Sinister as it was, you have decided to just ignore his remarks and focus on the needle and thread instead. But Jaehyun seemed to be having the time of his life as he pushed on yet another statement, “How I wish I could drink my own blood.”

Bony faces, sunken cheeks, withered bodies— those were what was left of your parents’ once healthy features when you saw them lying on the metal beds in the morgue, their eyes lifeless. The same image went crashing back in your mind as you heard Jaehyun’s utterance. As much as you wanted to lash out on him for being insensitive, you could not bring yourself to now that you weren’t sure whether Johnny really told him about your mother and father’s demise.

“I don’t mean to offend, but…” your teeth twiddled with your bottom lip, Jaehyun silent beside you, “Are you… mentally ill or something?”

It’s impolite to pry. But if you would sleep in a roof with a man who nonchalantly brushes off his injuries like it was just a small scratch and not a long gash, you’ve guessed you needed to know how to walk the attenuated thread that seems to bind his sanity together. You trust you brother— despite him selling your apartment without having a word with you— you’ve met some of his friends before, and you still believe that Jaehyun is not a bad person. And that you hadn’t been wrong to allow him inside the house.

“I am not,” he finally answered after minutes of being lost for words.

“Then why did you tell me that you’re a vampire?”

“Because I am.”

There was a certain rise of intonation in his words that you have a difficulty distinguishing if it was a question or a statement.

“Did Johnny order you to do this? To scare me by standing bloodied in my doorway, and to frighten me more by saying you are a vampire? Because it’s not funny.” You slammed the lid of the sewing kit shut, breathing heavily while looking at Jaehyun. Your fingers imprinted the lid with blood.

His infamous smirk was plastered on his face in a blink, displaying his dimples. He gripped the arm of the sofa then sat up, his eyes boring into yours. “First, no one orders me around. Secondly, I don’t know shit about what you’ve just said. And yes, I think you really need to be frightened because I really am a blood-sucking bastard.”

Jaehyun bared his teeth, his two fangs elongating— Before. Your. Very. Eyes. The ravaging of your heart inside your chest was unbearable. The widening of your eyes would have been enough to let your eyeballs roll off your eye sockets.

Are you going to die now? Are you going to die just like your mother and father; lifeless eyes, wasted body? Mom and Dad. They died in such a terrible way. A cruel death for two loving souls. And they were killed by a vampire— like the monster in front of you. You grabbed the sewing kit— it’s stupid, it’s hopeless but you need to stay alive— and slammed it into Jaehyun’s face.

His face turned sideways by the impact. If a different person would put his shoes on yours right now, the person would surely collapse because of fear. But you’ve anticipated this all your life— this is your purpose. To meet a vampire, to kill a vampire. However, you are still just a person; petrified of the undead.

Breathing ragged with your heart nearly collapsing, you ran for the kitchen and rummage through the drawers to find a vinegar. Before you could sprint away from him, you need to at least injure him first. The rosary standing near the altar behind the television waved at you, you grabbed it until the cross dug in your palm.

With a vinegar in one hand, and a rosary in the other, you dashed back to the living room. Where Jaehyun sat as if he was on a vacation. His arms were laying stretched out on the head of the sofa, his eyes observing you with deviltry in them.

“Begone! You monster!” You opened the lid and threw him the vinegar, the liquid splashing on his body, on the floors and some on your own shoes. The smell of it whiffing your nose, making it itch. It would scorch Jaehyun, that’s for certain.

With the rosary raised by your hand, you shut your eyes and started chanting prayers. “Our Father, Who art in heaven, Holy be Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth—”

Then a howl. You opened your eyes and saw Jaehyun lying on the floor, he was in a fetal position while screaming. You did it! Without waiting for him to recover, you grabbed your phone and ran for the door. As you gripped the doorknob, the howl of pain echoing around the room was replaced by howls of laughters.

Jaehyun is laughing.

You turned around with narrowed brows. He was kneeling on the floors now, clutching his stomach while laughing. His shoulders continued to vibrate, his laughs enveloping the whole space.

“Why—? How?” was your breathless question.

“Damn, that was hilarious.” Then he slowly got up on his feet, a low laugh escaping from his lips even now. He took a step towards you, while you backed away from him.

His hands was raised in shoulder length in an instant, “Whoa. I’m not going to bite you,” he chuckled, then he raised a brow, “not unless you want me to.”

Every young adult romance books who has a cocky man as their main character had that line in one of their pages at least. It was enough to make you cringe just reading it in a book, but to be told the same thing in real life was like a dirt you could not wash off your body.

“Why… why aren’t you scathed?” You observe his body from head to toe, not a trace of scorched skin could be seen in his pale features. “Are you just fucking around?” An infinitesimal dismay bubbled up in your heart by the realization. You could have killed him, you could have taken vengeance for the death of your parents. Could you, truly? If you weren’t even sure about your theories, if you do not even have any idea about the face of their murderer?

“I am a vampire, babygirl.” He continued to advance to you, until your back was against the plain walls of your house, with Jaehyun’s one hand pressed to the walls beside your head. “So you better pack and move out tomorrow before I suck all the blood from your body.”

This close, you could see his lashes fanning his cheeks. They haven’t mistaken when they wrote vampires as terrifying yet beautiful creatures. Jaehyun is stunning.  All the papers plastered on your blackboard slowly came to life through him. You have primed yourself for this day, yet the weak side of being human ate you up as you stood unmoving, eyes focused on Jaehyun and Jaehyun’s face only. They were right when they said vampires were mesmerizing.

You could not move a muscle to defend yourself. With a heavy heart, you braced yourself for your end.  

“Hatred. So much hatred.” Jaehyun sniffed at you, you blinked. What is he doing? “Your blood would taste bitter on my tongue,” he stated, breath fanning your face. It smelled like cigarette, cigarette and mint. “You are so full of hate. Why?”

Then he took a step back, before running his hand through his hair. “Go.” His playful façade was back when he looked at you as if he’s going to pounce on you anytime sooner. “Lock your doors and don’t leave. Johnny told me to keep you safe, so don’t try to run. Because I will know.”

You should bolt out of the house and away from him, it’s preposterous if you won’t. Staying and sleeping in your bed should be out of the choices.

Where else would you go, though? Haechan’s? The little devil would surely squeeze the reasons out of you if ever you decide to stay the night in his house. Mark’s? He’s living with his own. He’d surely feel flustered by the thought of you sleeping in the same roof as him.

Jaehyun made it clear he would know if you do something as to try to leave the house, you do not doubt him one bit. On the other side of things, this is your chance to put your life out of misery: the misery that was inflicted by the murder of your parents.

Sometimes, we have to be a little bit crazy to accomplish something right? We have to be out of our minds to push our boundaries and ignite the bravery in our hearts.

Tonight, you’ve decided to be insane.

Tonight, you will stay.

—

A single dagger lay quietly on your bed. You sat, your legs crossed with each other as you stare at it with pure concentration. The blade reflecting your face in a blurred image. You bought it online years ago, and was hidden underneath your dresser ever since it has arrived. The design was remarkably artistic; a snake head as its pommel and hilt, and instead of a silver blade, it was onyx black.

Grief. It was the reason why you bought it in the first place. Of course, it was Johnny’s name you wrote in the information so you could buy the dagger. The grief and the yearning to find a vampire was what fueled your determined little spirit, resulting in you,  breaking the rules.

Jaehyun’s elongated fangs flashed in your sight as you stare at the dagger. Is he really a vampire? But the vinegar had no effect to his skin, not even the rosary or the prayers. Yet the fangs. How could he make those fangs longer? Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps it’s your disconcertment playing tricks on you.

You let your body fall into the mattress. It was like a hearkened prayer. A vampire showing in your doorstep when you least expect it. Was it why he does not appeared to be breathing? Or hurt by his wound and the sewing you’ve done to his skin? Perhaps he’s high, intoxicated, you have no idea. But you believed that even drugs would not obliterate the painful effect of your stomach being slashed open.  

If he’s truly a vampire, why didn’t he use his powers to heal himself? Being undead, and the blood they consumes from humans or animals makes it easier for them to recover from any wound. A gash like that in Jaehyun’s stomach would only compare to a small knife cut or to nothing at all.

There’s only one way to know. No, there are many ways to know the truth, you realized as you glanced at the full body mirror resting near your closet. Vampires can not cast shadows nor reflections. Especially when the mirror is backed with silver.

You pulled the chair, drafting table, and your little drawer away from behind the door. It was a horrendous idea to lock your door with your furnitures, only to pull them back again. Safety first, though.

What if he’s truly a vampire? The question drew you in a sudden halt, your hand frozen onto the doorknob. Then you realized that you have not prepared yourself to meet a real vampire after all. Concocting everything in your mind was easier because it hasn’t occurred to you— not even in your wildest imaginations— that you’d see a vampire today. In the modern world and years after the death of your parents.

As the saying goes, it’s now or never. So you turned the doorknob, and stepped outside your bedroom— your hand holding the dagger behind you.

Jaehyun sits on the sofa while he dries his hair with a towel. He was wearing Johnny’s clothes. The scent of your own shampoo lingers in the air, a proof that he had used it. You swallowed the irritation and sauntered up towards him instead. There’s a mirror hanged on the wall above the piano, you took a quick glance at it while planning ways on how to make Jaehyun stand in front of it.

“I told you to stay in your room,” he impassively voiced out, eyes not looking up at yours. When he did look up to you, your breath was snatched away. He looked fresh, and clean. His face was free of blood now, revealing his pale yet soft features and the redness of his lips. The beauty he possesses locked you up on your position.

“By the way, I’m charging money towards the person who looks at me like that,” Jaehyun stated before standing up.

You blinked, washing away your embarrassment by clearing your throat and slightly shaking your head. “I have to ask you about a few things.” Before he could answer, you’ve already spoken, “Where did you meet Johnny?”

“Casino,” was his bored response before reaching for the remote and tuning on the television.

“Casino? Why would you meet him in a casino?”

“Your brother owes me a large sum of money after gambling all of his in baccarat,” he explained. The various colors from the television illuminating his face.

“Baccarat?”

“Casino game, one you would not understand as a college girl.” He glanced at you then. “Do you have any beer stored here?”

You ignored his remarks and shook your head instead, “We don’t. I do not allow it.”

“Well, thank fuck that this is my house now.” He leaned and propped his arms on his legs, “Why don’t you buy me a bottle as a welcome gift?”

“Don’t you have a penny?” This time, you’re the one whose voice was laced with boredom.

“I won’t ask you if I have a dollar.”

“Your audacity, it’s impeccable,” was your sarcastic response. “Why did Johnny vend you the house? Our house?” You put an emphasis to the last words, trying to veer the conversation to your advantage.

Jaehyun merely looked at you from the television, “Didn’t I just answer your question? He lost all his money, he borrowed mine, and as payment, he sold me your house. Business.”

“I couldn’t believed Johnny would sell you this house without consulting me,” you exhaled. Realization was dashing against your mind. He really sold the house, the one thing your parents built with their blood and sweat.

“Yup. Me too,” he smiled impishly, “I couldn’t believe you would have enough audacity to hide a dagger behind you.” He stood up, walking towards you in a languid manner, “Baby, is that for me?” He asked, his mouth dripping sensuality; sweet as honeysuckle. “Because I would tell you now it won’t do anything.”

You concealed your shock by straightening your back and stepping backwards, the mirror inviting your line of sight. All you have to do is step back until Jaehyun’s façade is on its surface.

“Really? What about I stab you with it through your heart?”

The urge to bury the dagger in Jaehyun’s chest was like a magnet, pulling you with a force that made your hand reveal the dagger. Fascination flickered in his eyes as he took in the length of the blade.

“You’ve got good taste.”

The dagger was raised, so is his finger. In a blink, his finger was pressed on the very edge, his blood cascading down the blade. One step, one step is all it would take for the mirror to reflect his body. One step and—

And then his mouth was on yours. Unmindful of the dagger between the both of you, Jaehyun pressed on, his kiss going ferocious in every second. Your body went rigid, the slick flicker of his tongue on your lower lip electrocuting you in the most pleasurable way.

Vampires are sinisterly sensual creatures. They could lure you with their beauty, fascinate you with their eyes. It was another thing to read about it, and another to feel it yourself. A millennium old gens never lied about vampires’ ability to romance a mortal.

The mirror. You opened your eyes, the mirror on your peripheral. It was difficult to get a better view, especially when Jaehyun was still kissing you. Your body refused to pull away, so you pulled Jaehyun closer instead. In a very unobtrusive way, you slightly turned your head sideways, so you would be able to see the mirror.

Trying your hardest not to completely fall into the desire, you grabbed Jaehyun’s hair with your other hand, then turned your body. Verity slapped you right in the guts as you see Jaehyun’s back reflecting on the mirror. You pulled away, catching your breath and gripping the dagger tightly with your hand. He reflected on the mirror, he wasn’t scorched when you splashed vinegar onto his body, he repelled the prayers and the rosary. Is he the insane one? Or is it you?

Jaehyun’s lips were swollen, and you do not doubt yours looks like that too. You stared at each other for seconds, Jaehyun stupefied in front of you. He looked shocked, like he had just came out of water, and was struggling to stabilize his breath. Before anyone could utter a word, you sprinted back to your room and locked it behind you.

—

That night, you lay awake on the mattress. Sleep feels like miles away. You could not simply close your eyes and pretend that there wasn’t a potential vampire under your roof. And you’ve kissed that vampire. It feels like betrayal, a bittersweet kind of one. However, you’ve nailed it on your mind not to repeat the same stupidity again. Not if you want to take retribution for the death of your parents.

A Roland for an Oliver. Always.

One person needs to know your wrath tonight, though. That is your brother. So you dialed Johnny’s number repeatedly until he answered.

“Why did you sell the house without consulting me?” was your greeting. The ire that you’ve been keeping inside you for hours after knowing the imbecilic decision of your brother rose up in your throat, begging to be unleashed as a scream.

“Well, good evening my dear little sister,” Johnny’s smug reply. You could almost see his sarcastic face in your mind. Before you could speak and bring hell to him, he inhaled and spoke himself, “I didn’t sell the house— well, sort of. But not really. It’s a fifty-fifty negotiation.”

You stood up, your hand on your waist. “I couldn’t believe you, Johnny! Casino? What in the heck were you thinking?”

Johnny cursed from the other line, “So the dick really told you about it?” Then a deep sigh, “Whatever he told you, it’s true. I’ve lost all my money in a game of baccarat. Don’t ask about it, you would not understand,” he uttered, so fast you almost didn’t catch it. Why is everyone thinks you won’t understand that game?

“What about Mom and Dad’s fund? Did you—”

“No! I did not,” Johnny sighed, deeper than the last time. “Well, almost half of it.”

“What?!” The scream that was threatening to come out from your mouth was unleashed, at last. You were afraid the neighbors heard it. “You—! Why did you do that?” You muttered, exasperated. Your knees felt like they would give up any second now, so you grabbed the chair and sat on it while trying to soothe your raging nerves. “That’s for us, Johnny. For our future.”

“I know. It was bad luck, Y/N. I promise, I’m working hard as much as I can to earn the money we’ve lost—”

“You’ve lost,” you repeated.

“Yeah. I’ve lost. Just, let Jaehyun stay for a while. He’s got no one and nothing.”

“What do you mean no one? And nothing?”

“He’s got no family. And no money. He’d lost it at the casino.”

You raised a brow like Johnny would see it, “Johnny, do you know that—” I saw him standing on our doorway, his stomach open and gushing out blood? Sighing, you have decided not to tell Johnny about the bloodied Jaehyun you’ve seen on your doorstep. He would only worry about you, and that’s the least thing you wanted now that your brother is miles away. “Do you know that he showed me a contract saying you sold him the house as payment for the money you owed him?”

Johnny once again cursed, “He’s fucking around with you. I’ll show you the real contract, hang on.”

Then you pulled your phone away from your ear the same time Johnny sent you a message. It was a picture of the real contract. And it was stated in the paper that Jaehyun could stay as long as he wanted in your house until Johnny earned the money he owed him. You knew it. Johnny didn’t sell the house. There is just no way he would do that.

“I knew it. I know you wouldn’t sell our house without discussing it with me.”

Johnny took seconds to speak, “I’d never sell the house, Y/N. No matter what. It’s ours.”

You rolled your lip with your teeth, “Where are you now, though? Are you eating well? Are you alright?”

Your brother chuckled, “I am. Don’t worry about your big brother. Just study and keep your self healthy.”

A pensive sigh was what you answered him. You wished your parents’ funds was enough for the both of you. So, Johnny wouldn’t have to work his butt off working here and there to provide for you.

“Just… take care. Don’t do anything illegal.”

“I won’t. Anyway, I have to go now. I have tons of work to do tomorrow. Call you tomorrow night, ‘kay? Take care, you little devil.”

“Alright. You too. Bye, Johnny.”

Then the line was cut off. You plugged-in your phone’s charger and set up the alarm. Staying up late was a bad idea, especially when you didn’t even have an ounce of sleep yesterday. It was a miracle that you’ve reached midnight without falling on your feet and sleeping on the floors. Dinner also went in the back of your mind, your appetite vanishing because of the adventure you’ve gone through for the past hours.

Going out of the room was out of the choices too. Jaehyun could be sucking an animal or a person’s neck in Johnny’s room for all you know. You frustratedly sighed, your imaginations would be the ones that would kill you, not the potential vampire inside the other room.

To get your mind off things, you checked on your group chat for any messages. Mark and Haechan, as usual, was bickering. Haechan sent a picture of his middle finger above his plates. While Mark sent a picture of the blackest coffee you’ve ever seen in your whole life with a caption, ‘palpitate? I don’t know him’ which elicited a chuckle from you.

As you glanced at your own plates, discarded at the corner near the original position of your drafting table, envy for Haechan and Mark enveloped you. You could have been on the third or fourth floor plan for the five-storey residential if not for Jaehyun.

You turned off your phone and decided to take a quick shower. You badly needed one. Jaehyun’s warning could not even stop you from washing the dried blood on your hands, wrists, over and under your fingernails.

Silence welcomed you as you peek through the door, the television was turned off, which only means that Jaehyun’s already in Johnny’s room. You finally stepped out, towel and robe in your hands.

Inside the bathroom, your shampoo bottle lay discarded on the shower floors, a sign that Jaehyun has emptied the container. You groaned, and threw the container to the trashcan with a loud thump.

As the water cascaded to your hair down your body, you felt the kiss you shared with Jaehyun, jolting your eyes open. What was that? You touched your lips. So many years of indulging yourself about vampires and how to kill them, one kiss and you are slipping off your principles already. What feebleness, you mumbled while slightly slapping your cheek.

After your quick shower, you felt cleaner than ever. No trace of blood could be seen on your hands. You wrapped yourself up with the robe, then your hair with the towel.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Jaehyun drinking a glass of water. You wrapped yourself tighter as you walked past him. He raised a brow but did not say anything. You’ve guessed the discussion about his stay could be accomplish tomorrow. Since you already had been exhausted to the bones, sleep was all you wanted and not another argument.

“Hey.” Jaehyun called out.

You froze for a few seconds before turning around to face him. What is it he wants this time?

“What?”

“What’s your name?” He asked, arms crossed with his body leaning on the counter.

Oh, yes. He hadn’t inquired about your name yet.

“Y/N,” you declared.

Jaehyun stood straight then, pocketing his hands on the pockets of his sweatpants. “The kiss. It means nothing. No need to fret about it.”

You blinked. “I’m not fretting about it.”

“Yeah? Keep telling that to yourself while touching your lips as if you could still feel mine against it.”

All the blood rushed up to your cheeks, you do not doubt you looked like a tomato with eyes right now. “What are you talking about?” Did he peer through some hole while you shower? Did he use his vampire instincts to watch you bathe?

“I didn’t watch you bathe. As I’ve said, you’re not my type. Girls willingly peels off their clothes for me, I don’t need to peek at some hole to see tits and a pussy.”

An unbelievably loud gasp resonated from your mouth, your cheeks heating up again by his bold statement. How did he know your thoughts? “What do you think of yourself? A god?”

A smirk, “Yes.”

“You’re really unbelievable,” you muttered while shaking your head. Then you turned your back on him, not turning around even after hearing his salacious laugh behind you.

—

Heat continued to wrap your body until you kicked the blanket off of you. You slowly opened your eyes, the blinding rays of the sunlight jolting you awake. You needed not glance at your phone to know that you didn’t wake up on time.

Running a hand through your hair, you unplugged the charger from your phone. Several texts from Haechan and Mark were displayed on the screen.

[Already submitted your plate. :)]

[You bugbear, where are you?]

You typed in your reply for Mark, thanking him for submitting your plate for visual techniques. It was the right decision to leave it on his drafting tube. Then you sent a wacky picture to Haechan.

After not getting a reply from the two boys, you stood up and put on your slippers. The chaos of your room was an eyesore. You reminded yourself to clean and get back on planning later.

Jaehyun was nowhere in sight, he wasn’t in the living room nor at the kitchen. Perhaps he’s still sleeping. Or maybe he’s afraid of the sunlight. As you walked straight to the kitchen, you remembered the call you had with Johnny. Someone needs to explain himself today.

A lot of things whirled in your mind as you mix the coffee in your mug. First, you need to confirm whether Jaehyun is a vampire or not. What would you do if he is? Would you kill him? No, he would definitely kill you first if you ever did something as to think about assaulting him. Or maybe… maybe he could help you— on finding the vampire who killed your parents.

Your eyes widened by your realization, the spoon falling to the sink, making a loud clanking noise. Why had you not thought about it earlier? You muttered a curse before sitting. Yes, that would be it. Once you successfully vindicated his vampire nature, you could ask him to collaborate with you in finding the monster who killed your parents. However, Jaehyun looks like he’s going to be a huge pain in the ass. Men like him do not do things without gaining something from it.

“Yes, that’s right.”

You jerked in your seat as you heard Jaehyun. He entered the kitchen like it’s his own, walking straight towards the refrigerator and slamming it shut when he didn’t find what he was searching for.

“Can you not read my mind?” Your annoyed reiteration.

Jaehyun continued his rummaging through the drawers. “I don’t. Your thoughts are just all over the place. Too loud.”

You ignored his comment and focused on your goal instead. All while remembering the things you have learned about vampire’s ability to infiltrate minds and how to block them out of it. “You told me you’re a vampire.”

Jaehyun merely glanced at you, “Did I?” Then he continued his ransacking.

“Yes. Last night.”

He attempted to leave the kitchen, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then he stood still, facing you. “Aren’t you supposed to leave my house now?”

“Oh, speaking of that, I called Johnny last night. You lied to me.” You walked straight to one of the chairs and sat on it, your spoon pointing at Jaehyun’s way. “He didn’t sell you the house. You’re supposed to live here ‘til Johnny earned back the money he owed you.” A wicked smile was displayed on your lips now.

“Whatever. I better not see you again today.”

“This is my house!” You stood up from your seat, the coffee spilling as your hips collided with the table.

“Not anymore. Get out.”

“No.”

“Get out.”

You straightened your back, “What would you do, then?” Knowing that you are walking through a thin thread, still, you pushed on. “Bite my neck and suck my blood?”

Jaehyun huff out a breath, “You’re delusional.”

“You’re in denial.”

It took him two strides to face you, “Shut up.”

“Why? Did it surprise you that you revealed your true nature to a mortal? Mere minutes after meeting her?” You gathered all your willpower to smirk.

“I did not reveal you anything.” He said through gritted teeth.

You have never felt so powerful until you saw Jaehyun’s face right now. “You did. You told me—”

He turned his back towards you and left the kitchen. But your spirit has risen up, your being refractory oozing out of you. You followed Jaehyun to the living room, your hand grabbing his shirt.

Jaehyun jerked your arm away, his face ruddy from irritation when he faced you. “I didn’t tell you shit.”

“If you really didn’t, show me your wound then.” You waved your hand to where his wound was located in his stomach. “The wound that I’ve stitched up last night.”

He seemed appalled, but he quickly recovered, tuning in his smug face at the stroke. “Sorry, but my abs isn’t available at the moment. Try again next time, sweet.”

“Why don’t you just show me?” You voiced out, irritated. Jaehyun sighed and turned his back on you for the second time, but you didn’t budge as you pulled his shirt again. He tried to jerk your hand off of him but you held on.

“Let go!” He continued to wrench his shirt from your grip, the force of his hand pulling you towards the living room with him.

“Show me!”

“Damn it, Y/N! Let go!”

Jaehyun, for the last time, tugged his shirt from your hands, the force pulling you on your knees. Now you knelt face to face with his crotch, but you ignored your awkward position as you held his shirt again, then you caught a glimpse of the wound. It was a wound no more, but a faint scar instead—

“I knew it—!”

“Good mornin—! Oh shit! Oh my God! Y/N!”

You froze as you heard Mark’s shoutings, followed by Haechan’s remarks.

“Hotdog for breakfast, really, Y/N?”

You struggled on your feet, nearly tumbling again as your toe hit the foot of the coffee table. Swallowing the pulsating pain, you fixed yourself and faced your friends.

“It’s not what you think it is—”

“I told her to wait but she’s a spunky little thing, even begging and crawling for it.”

You’ve witnessed as Mark’s mouth formed a big ‘o’, his eyes nearly falling off their sockets. Haechan, beside Mark, only looked at you as if he was already tucking the information at the very back of his mind to blackmail you in the future.  

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy.” You tried to smile despite the embarrassment. “Johnny asked me to take care of him for awhile.”

“Yeah, sure.” Haechan snickered.

You widened your eyes at him then turned it towards Jaehyun, a forced friendly smile painted on your lips. “Just… I know this is hard for you. But stay in your room, okay? I’ll give you milk later. Be a good boy, hmm?”

You saw the irritation in his face, causing you to swallow the chuckle that was threatening to come out off you. For the last time, Jaehyun looked at you with daggers in his eyes before sauntering up to Johnny’s room.

“What was that?” Mark asked, his eyes watching Jaehyun disappear to the other room.

“Johnny’s friend. He’s been on a traumatic past, made him childlike. It’s a pity, really—”

Haechan cut your sentence off by screaming, “Y/N, what the fuck is this?! Blood?!”

Both you and Mark followed Haechan’s sight. Sweat automatically formed in your forehead as you saw Jaehyun’s blood on the sofa, almost black in color because of its dryness.

“Oh! It’s— That’s— ignore that! That’s from Jaehyun’s wound. He cut himself last night— and yes, have you had your coffee yet? Come, let’s have breakfast!” A nervous chortle was elicited from you, then.

Haechan and Mark exchanged glances before sitting on the ottomans.

“No, it’s okay Y/N. We really just came by to check up on you,” Mark declared, his palms on his knees.

Haechan, on the other side, glanced at the blood before looking at you. “Are you alright?”

A spontaneous nod, “Of course. I am!”

“He’s not giving you any troubles, is he?” Mark dug in. You shook your head. Lies. Trouble has been the first thing Jaehyun led on your doors the moment you invited him in. “Since when did he arrive?”

“Last week,” was your terse reply. “Anyways, highways, why are you here?”

Haechan kept looking at the blood, so you rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a clean rug to cover it. Only when it was covered did he answer you.

“We had a notion that maybe you’re sick,” Haechan stated. “And you told us last week Johnny’s away. Besides we don’t have any more classes so we decided to visit,” he added.

“Thank you. But I am not sick. Just woke up really late.”

After talking about your plates, and the reminders two of your professors discussed, Haechan and Mark already bid their goodbyes, no doubt to play computer games. They did not ask about Jaehyun nor the blood on the sofa any further. Instead, they’d asked you numerous times whether you were really okay before making their way out. You answered them both with a slight pat on their backs, reassuring them that all is well even if you weren’t sure of it yourself.

Jaehyun was already sitting on the sofa when you got back inside, his eyes unfathomable as he took in your presence. Suddenly, you remembered his wound, and the scar that was left of it in a span of hours.

“Shall we go back to business?” He raised his brow, an impish smile imprinted on his luscious lips. At your confused look, he attempted to untie the string of his sweatpants, resulting in you, grabbing the pillow and throwing it his way.

“Gross!” You grunted.

“C’mon. Acting all shy now? Where’s the energy from earlier? I like that version of you better.” Then a wink.

You felt the veins of your temple tick. “You’re disgusting.”

“Disgustingly hot?”

“Go to hell, Jaehyun.”

“Working on it.”

Inhale, exhale, was your continuous chant in your mind as you tried to calm your nerves. After a minute of closing your eyes and breathing heavily, you finally had enough sanity to talk to the mad man sitting on your sofa.

“You’re really a vampire.”

Jaehyun let his head fall back, his eyes closed. “I am not,” was his worn out reply.

“How would you explain your wound, then? That’s completely healed not even twenty-four hours after I’ve put it back together?”

“Y/N, don’t you know that I’m God’s favorite? That’s why I heal easily.”

“Will you stop fucking around and confirm it to me instead?” you exhaled. “You’ve already revealed yourself, Jaehyun. And if you don’t want to wake up with the whole world salivating to put a stake through your heart tomorrow, you will listen to me.”

Jaehyun looked affronted, as he furrowed his brows before opening an eye. “Was that supposed to make me shit my pants?”

You sighed, deeper than a well. One minute of talking to Jaehyun and you felt yourself going insane already. “Listen, Jaehyun—”

“Why are you so eager to know whether I am truly a vampire? A normal person would’ve knelt and begged for mercy in front of me if they’d so much as see my fangs.” He sat up straight then, regarding you with interest.

“I am not afraid of your kind.”

Jaehyun chortled, “Says the girl who literally poured vinegar on me while chanting prayers.”

“Speaking of that, how did you repel those? Those are the bane of every vampire’s existence.” You, no doubt, believe your eyes looks like they are twinkling right now.

“You don’t know enough about vampires, then.”

Your years of determined study about the lore of vampires denied Jaehyun’s insult like an instinct. “Or maybe, you are a peculiar vampire,” you reiterated.

“Didn’t admit I was a vampire, did I?”

The conversation was getting exhausting now. You feel as if running and chasing Jaehyun in an endless path that leads to nothing. Vulnerability had a hard time reflecting itself to you, but you feel like you could only reach for the answers to the questions that were circulating your parents’ deaths for years if you showed it to Jaehyun.

“Our parents died years ago.” You tried your hardest not to look at Jaehyun as you started speaking. “They said… it’s a hopeless case. The police, the detectives, and even Johnny already gave up on it. But I refused to do the same.” You cleared your throat. “My parents had two bites on each of their necks. Yes, it could’ve passed as a snake’s bite. But the two of them? A snake bite on their necks? And since when did snakes leave their victim’s body looking withered as a dead plant?” With that, you looked up to Jaehyun.

His eyes were fixed on you, devoid of any emotions. “When did it happen?”

A slight hope ignited in your heart by his question that you answered right after the words tumbled out of his lips. “Ten years ago.”

He sighed before standing up on his feet. “When they said it was a hopeless case, it really was Y/N.”

Boulders on your shoulders, that was what his words felt like. The earth and the heavens felt like closing in on you.

Jaehyun started to walk away. Ice seems to envelope all your hopes. The impact of it was different, as it came from a vampire itself. You looked up to stop the tears that were threatening to roll down your cheeks, but a traitorous tear slid down the side of your one eye, your lips shaking. You wiped it off, as harshly as you could before standing up and sprinting to your own room, the frames rattling by how forceful you shut the door closed.

—

For hours, you sat on your bed, your mind drifting off to nowhere. You refused to cry, it wouldn’t make any difference. The blackboard who has all the articles from newspapers, books, internet news magnetized your line of sight. You stood up, and walked towards it.

As you ran your hands through the crumpled papers, the image of your parents flashed in your mind. You shut your eyes closed, then the tears finally slid down.

“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry.” Your body shook, your shoulders continued to vibrate as you cried. It’s been a while since you let yourself fall. Forcing you to think that the pain of your parents’ deaths has already left. But no, it does not. Time only made it worse.

A scream resonated from your mouth as you let the pain coaxed you. You gripped the papers attached to the blackboard, and wrenched them with enough force to graze your knuckles on the hard surface, the thumbtacks scratching your fingers. Slowly, your body fell to the floors, the coldness of it biting your soles. You hugged your knees as tears continued to come out of your eyes.

Then you heard a knock.

You slowly got up on your feet. Bloodshot eyes greeted you when you looked at your reflection on the mirror. You hastily wiped your cheeks and fixed your hair before sauntering up to the door.

Jaehyun’s façade loomed over the other side.

“What?” You never meant to make the words come out vexed. But Jaehyun displayed a look of hesitation, making you uncomfortable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I might have a solution to your problem.”

Your gripped on the doorknob tightened, your chest constricting. “What… what do you mean?

“I meant… I might’ve a solution to the death of your parents.”

“Really?!” You held his shoulders and shook him.

“Yeah. But before anything else, I need a beer.”

After Jaehyun’s revelation, you fixed yourself and dashed for the nearest convenience store, grabbing his preferred brand of beer and filling your cart with it. You needed to be tight on your expenses after you saw the receipt, but you have no time to care one bit now that you feel elevated more than ever.

When you arrived home, Jaehyun quickly opened the bottle with his hands, while you refrigerate the others. You dashed for the living room after putting all the bottles inside.

“So, what now?” You asked like a little puppy while Jaehyun chugged down his beer.

“I’ll help you in one condition.”

Of course, there’s a condition. Thankfully, you’ve anticipated Jaehyun to be the kind of man that it didn’t surprise you anymore.

“Anything.”

“I’ll live here as long as I want. My clothes, cigs, beers— that’s all on you.” He pointed his finger at you, while holding the bottle in the same hand.

“Don’t you have any cash with you?” You tried to look kind as much as you can. Yet Jaehyun still raised a brow as a no.

“Blame the casino,” he added.

As you reckon his conditions, you grimaced privately. What would you tell Johnny if you started spending your funds? Or when you started asking for money all of a sudden?

“Alright. All your expenses, on me.” You smiled, teeth flashing while pointing at your self.

“I want my own room.”

“I will clean the storage—”

“Your parents’ room.”

With that, you stopped speaking, stopped breathing. “No.”

Jaehyun’s lips turned sideways, “Then the deal is off.” He turned to leave but you grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, alright. Alright. You could sleep there tonight. I will talk to Johnny.”

Jaehyun sat up again, a triumphant smile plastered on his lips. “Nice.”

“How did you know it was my parents’?”

The room was always locked, not when you clean it every once a week. You need not ponder how Jaehyun knew it was your parents, his vampire instincts surely told him. The room was bigger than any of the rooms inside the house, with big curtains making it cozy. There’s no doubt Jaehyun wanted it to be his just by that feature.

“Do I need to answer that?”

You shook your head. “So, how do we find my parents’ murderer?”

Jaehyun took a swig off his bottle before speaking, “Are you certain it’s a vampire?”

You didn’t answer. Instead dashed back to your own room to delve the box tucked underneath your dresser along with the dagger. In it was the picture of your parents in their withered state, the camera captured a shot of their neck, revealing the two bites each of them had. You hurriedly went back to the living room and revealed Jaehyun the pictures.

He took it with oddity, his mouth formed in a tight line. “Vampires. No doubt.”

After all these years, it was confirmed at last. You wanted to shout, but that isn’t pleasant for a time such as this. “I knew it,” you breathily stated.

Jaehyun shuffled the picture in his hands, “Some vampires has a peculiar way of killing their preys. However, the way your parents’ were murdered was no special. This is how the majority of the vampires kills.”

You leaned closer to see the picture yourself, but in a spur of moment felt embarrassed as you remember the kiss you shared, so you shifted away from him. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes. This gave us no clue as to who might be behind this.”

You feel your hopes shattering again. Jaehyun’s next words smashing it to smithereens.

“Vampires are all around Europe, and I do not doubt this town have several vampire clans too.” He continued, “But I know someone who could possibly identify the vampire behind this.” He waved the pictures in front of you, his mouth putting an emphasis to the word ‘possibly’. Your hope rose up in your chest again, despite the reluctance to his statement.

“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!” You stood up, ready to go at any given moment.

“Don’t be so excited, Y/N. He’s not a pleasant view to look at.” Then Jaehyun took one last swig on his bottle before laying it on the table with a thud.

“Anything, anyone, Jaehyun. For my parents.”

Jaehyun shrugged, “Tonight, then.”

“Where do we go?”

“Cemetery.”

—

The sky was pitch black that night, no trace of twinkling white lights could be seen in the heavens. You held your jacket tighter to your body, the howling winds with heavy mists slapping on your face, hazing your skin with little droplets of water.

The cemetery’s entrance loomed over you, the letters in the metal bars embossed with an eerily looking font. You gulped, it’s sinister façade making the hairs on your neck prickle.

“Can’t we go back tomorrow morning?” You pursed your lips after asking. Jaehyun’s eyes was fixed on the name of the cemetery above you. Eternal Rest Cemetery.

“We won’t be able to meet Hubert in daylight,” he explained.

On the way to the cemetery, Jaehyun had given you little informations about the person you would meet tonight. His name is Hubert, Eternal Rest Cemetery’s gravedigger. He didn’t tell you how had he met him, or what does he looked like other than ‘creepy’.

“Why? Isn’t daylight more fitting for meetings such as this one?” You continued to babble as you entered the vicinity. Trying your hardest not to grip Jaehyun’s arms, you unobtrusively walked closer to him instead.  

“I told you, we couldn’t meet him in daylight. And I am not bestfriends with the sun, Y/N.” Jaehyun is clothed with a black shirt, paired with one of Johnny’s sweatpants again, since you haven’t bought him his own yet.

“Why? Aren’t you immune?” You glanced at the several tombstone, waiting for some ghost to show up and grabbed you with them underground. If this scene was accompanied by a smoke, and sinisterly white lights, it could pass as a horror movie already.

The wet tombstone was glinting against the moonlight, muds covering the green grass, leaving it mixed up with brown and green colors.

“How could you keep too many questions in that pretty mouth of yours?” Jaehyun asked, snapping his head at you.

You drew into a sudden halt, flustered by his question. Against the night, Jaehyun looked ashen if not for the redness of his lips, his face was giving off a chalky visage. He looked more vampiric now ever since you saw him.

When you didn’t answer, Jaehyun started to walk again, with you trailing behind him, mindful of the tombstones watching as you passed by.

In front of the rustic metal bars, Jaehyun halted. You stood behind him, observing the size of the space where the gravedigger must have been staying. Jaehyun rattled the bars again, the rust cascading down the grass.

You start as you saw someone penetrated the metal bars. Jaehyun shifted on his position, giving you a better view at the person— or an entity— in front of him. In an instant, you were reminded by the ghosts in Lord of the Rings. Hubert looks like a green smoke, but his whole façade is intact, no missing flesh nor eyes. He is tall, clad in suit like it came from Victorian era. Now you understand why Jaehyun insisted to meet him in night time. A ghosts could not be seen in daylight.

“Hubert! My friend, do you remember me? Of course, you do! Even ghosts wouldn’t forget this face.”

Hubert brushed him off with a stare before nodding his head your way.

Jaehyun waved his hand towards you, “This is Y/N. My friend. She needs something from you.”

Hubert looked at Jaehyun meaningfully, it was like a code you have no chance to decipher. After that, Jaehyun whispered something to him, but the ghosts shook his head.

Jaehyun glanced your way, his face abstruse. Then he held your shoulder, guiding you away from Hubert who remained standing on his spot.

“I forgot to tell you something.” Jaehyun released a curse. “Hubert, he has no tongue.”

You couldn’t help but to release a curse yourself, “What?!”

“If the crime happened in a cemetery, he would surely know the vampire who killed your parents.” Jaehyun took a quick glance at Hubert, “Usually, he would write it down on a paper. But something befell him, with the involvement of dark magic. I could smell it from him, Y/N. He is enchanted.”

This time, it’s you who peeked at Hubert’s tall frame. “I… I don’t know where my parents really died.”

“A higher chance that they were killed here, then.” Jaehyun licked his lips, “Trust me. Vampires around this town usually slays their prey in cemeteries.”

It was a gnawing suspicion at you, the real location where your parents had died. The policemen said it was likely that they were dumped into the crime scene, since their body hadn’t made a pattern on the earth yet. It was distinctly possible that they were killed in a cemetery.

“How could we make him talk?” You bit on your lower lip.

Jaehyun’s eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds before he answered. “He wants you to offer him your own tongue.”

You were thrown off balance by his statement, your words coming out as a loud baffled gasp, you were afraid you would wake up the whole cemetery. “My what?!”  

“So he could talk,” Jaehyun explained like he was talking about the strands of your hair instead of your tongue.

You felt your tongue before speaking, “Is there any other way?”

If cutting your tongue out of your mouth was the only way to identify your parents’ murderer, you’d gladly do it. But you at least need to try for different alternatives, since your tongue is a crucial part for your mission.

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered, he held his finger to quiet you down when you attempted to speak. “We would need to hunt for a witch to enchant him. But I’m telling you now it’s gonna be a lot of work. Witches has already learned how to be cunning and inconspicuous ever since Salem.”

The Salem Witch Trials. You’ve encountered it when you first started reading about vampires. It was a series of prosecutions for people suspected of witchcraft between February 1692 to May 1693 in Massachusetts. Thirty were found guilty, nineteen of them had met the infamous Gallow Hills to die by hanging.

“How did you know all this?”

“It was my on the job training before I completely transformed into a vampire.” Jaehyun declared. You would have nodded since you didn’t know that information when he started to laugh. “Just kidding.”

“Then… do you know any witch that might be in this town?” Your voice was calm and toned down now, not sure if it’s because of your location or the lingering feeling that Jaehyun might think of you as a coward for refusing to lacerate your tongue.

He wiped the sides of his mouth with his fingers, “Yes. I know one. But I don’t think she’s going to see me.”

“Then I’ll talk to her.”

Jaehyun took in your expression and the determination in your face before nodding, “Alright.” Then he turned his head back to Hubert, who has disappeared to his small space behind the metal bars. Jaehyun tried to call for him, but the ghost did not appear again.

“He could be really annoying sometimes.” Jaehyun shrugged.

—

The following days, you tried to get back on your normal life by starting off your plates and pretending as if you hadn’t just met a vampire in your doorstep, and that you didn’t make a deal with that vampire to find your parents’ murderer, and that you hadn’t gone into a cemetery in the middle of the night to talk to some tongueless ghost that might be holding the key to your life’s biggest mystery.

Exhausting, yes. But fulfilling nonetheless. Johnny had no idea about your endeavors, and you do not plan to tell him anytime sooner. You’ve also warned Jaehyun not to mention anything to your brother, which was only answered with a deadpanned expression and ‘I don’t have a phone’ statement.

Jaehyun had his own adventures at night, only returning before the dawn breaks. You did not ask about his business, but you’ve been seeing droplets of blood on his shirt every now and then. The humane part of you wanted to banish him, for threatening the life of other people, but you also didn’t want to offend him. You could not afford him bailing out of your deal.

One night, though, you had no chance to stop yourself when you noticed blood on his shirt.

“Do you kill people, Jaehyun?”

The answer could be no, since there were no news about people being murdered the same way your parents had been.

“Why do you care?” He sounded irritated that you shut your mouth for a moment before pressing on.

“How does their blood tastes like?”

He snapped his head at you, baring his fangs. “Care to offer me your neck so I could answer your question?” With that, he slammed the refrigerator door shut, and stormed out of the kitchen with beer in hand.

You watched as his back disappeared from your sight, his statement leaving puzzles in your mind.

Then you remember a fact about vampires from your books. Yes, they need human blood to sustain themselves. But that does not prohibit them from drinking the blood of other living creatures. Doing so would satisfy their thirst, but it won’t provide them the same power as human blood. Jaehyun’s wound didn’t heal according to his ability to cure himself faster than any being because a continuous doze of animal blood would render their powers weaker.

Which only means that Jaehyun does not drink human blood. A swell of pride bloomed in your heart by the realization. Perhaps he is a vampire, but he isn’t monstrous.

“Here.”

You looked up to Jaehyun, who slammed a paper on your drafting table.

You ignored it. “Can you please knock before barging in my room?”

“Look at what I’ve got.” He ignored your annoyance and motioned his hand on the paper. Only then you took a glance at it. It was an invitation. “Invitation for Madame Juana’s party.”

You stood up from your seat, eyes twinkling. “Isn’t she the witch?!”

The golden print of the invitation was exquisitely inviting that you grabbed and ran your fingers through it. You could not believe Jaehyun got the invitations.

“Yes. It is a formal party, Y/N. We need clothes, especially me.”

“What are you waiting for? Get dressed! We’re going shopping!” You giggled before pressing the invitation between your planning and design’s book.

Two hours before the malls starts to close. You quickly changed and met Jaehyun outside the house. This time, he was wearing a white shirt paired with cargo pants, one you bought him. His dog tag making him hotter than he already is.

You tried not to focus on him as you got on the bus. Jaehyun sat beside you, while you sat near the window. Then the memory of the bus you rode in weeks ago suddenly drawing to a halt went crashing back in your mind.

“Jaehyun… weeks ago. Did you… cross the streets all of a sudden?” You decided to ask. It doesn’t change anything, you were just curious since there’s a high chance he was the one who crossed the street that night, fast as a lightning.

“Yes,” was his uninterested reply. You nodded and didn’t press any further. But when you shifted to look at the view outside the vehicle, Jaehyun spoke. “Were you hurt?”

He didn’t ask how did you know. It was obvious that you were inside that bus. Slightly perplexed by his question, you shook your head. “No.”

“Did I hurt anyone?” His eyes were fixed forward, not bothering to glimpse at you.

“No. You did not.”

“We’re here,” he announced before the bus halted in front of the mall.

—

“Jaehyun, could you please slow down?” You hissed while tugging your too-tight dress further down you knees.

Jaehyun was walking ahead of you as if he was being chased by a wild cat. The painful feeling of your heels against your soles flaming your agitation. Madame Juana’s party was a formal one. And it’s not as if you could not walk with heels, you could perfectly do that even if you put a book on the top of your head. But Jaehyun’s strides makes it harder for you to do so.

The stygian corridors of Madame Juana’s mansion makes it harder for you to navigate with your too-tight dress and dangerously thin red bottoms. What literally came into her mind to decide not to put lightbulbs in her corridor? Your question was answered when you saw the light from the hall infiltrating through the open curtains at the end of the corridor. A touch of anticipation.

Jaehyun held up his hand at you when you’ve finally reached him.

“Hurry! It’s starting!” His breath fanned your cheeks as you entered the party, making you blush all of a sudden. He was clad in a simple black suit, which took a huge amount from your allowance. Despite that, he towered most of the men in the hall once you entered.

Jaehyun is simply ravishing.

Eyes from both women and men bore into his façade as you walked through the throngs of guests. Some whispering about his vampire nature, and some giggling by how good he looks like. It made you realized that this party wasn’t meant for mortals.

The orchestra was playing a forlorn music from the other side of the made platform, unfitting for a party such as this one.

“Madame Juana’s mortal husband died.” Jaehyun whispered all of a sudden, an explanation for the question you’ve asked only to yourself.

“Why is she throwing a party then?”

“Because she’s happy. She’s collected a number of rich husbands in the span of her life, Y/N.” He leaned closer, his minty breath whiffing your nose again.

You cleared your throat, trying to make your voice little. “How old is she?”

A waitress passed by, offering you a margarita. You gladly took one with a nod of thanks.

“Five hundred years old.”

You almost spat your drinks, eyes widening. “Five hundred years old?”

Jaehyun only nodded. The music halted, magnetizing your focus on the woman at the top of the stairs. She was clad in the finest silk, her skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood. If you didn’t know that she was a witch, you would think of her as a vampire.

“Don’t say that to her face later,” Jaehyun warned before clapping his hands.

You ignored his enraging ways to read your mind and started to clap your hands together. Madame Juana started to descend the stairs, her silk gown moving like ocean waves. She does not look like a five-hundred year old witch. Rather, she only looked like a few years older than you.

One of the waitresses handed her a mic, you were mesmerized by how her lips moved as she welcomed everyone who has attended his late husband’s first month death anniversary.

After her warm reception, the forlorn music became jovial. The guests started to chatter in loud voices, while Madame Juana greeted each of her visitor.

Jaehyun stood still beside you, watching the Madame like a predator… or a prey. And as if Madame Juana felt Jaehyun staring at her, her eyes suddenly shifted towards the both of you. You start in your position, feeling as if your muscles are strained. The Madame raised her hand, which is holding a glass of red wine, towards you. Jaehyun imitated her actions, and you have no other choice but to join them as they toss their glasses to the air.

You sipped on your drinks, the same time the music shuffled and then all you could hear was the Waltz of the Flower by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Most of the guests gathered between the hall, and they started to dance. You know the piece yourself. Your mother loved it so much, teaching you how to slow dance with it when you were little.

Awestruck by the pairs of dancing bodies on the dance floor, you did not notice Jaehyun stretching out his hand to you until you blinked out of oblivion and saw him watching you with a small smile painted on his lips.

“Will you give me the pleasure to dance with you, milady?”

A hearty chuckle resonated from your throat before taking Jaehyun’s hand. He guided you towards the dance floor, securing you with his hands.

“I am not good at dancing,” you warned him with a chuckle.

Jaehyun laughed, “Let’s fall together then.”

Eyes locked with Jaehyun, you let yourself leave your worries behind for a while. You stepped on Jaehyun’s feet every now and then, but he only brushed it off with a chuckle. After a few minutes on the dance floor, you regained your footing along with the memories of the steps your mother taught you. Jaehyun spun you around with an ease of a professional.

The chandeliers painted Jaehyun’s face with a light that wasn’t meant for a creature such as him; it made him more human, more real. His dashing aura blinding you, together with his smile. All of a sudden, you forgot the bloodied man in your front porch weeks ago, replaced by a new Jaehyun. It felt like it was the first time you were seeing him.

You chuckled. Both of your laughters mixing with the music, pulling you into bliss. You hadn’t noticed when most of the guests drew into a halt, leaving a few pairs together with you and Jaehyun on the dance floor.

The both of you were catching your breaths when the music stopped, the claps of the visitors making you smile.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

Your smile was easily replaced by a flustered expression when the visitors started to chant. Jaehyun mischievously glanced at you, deepening the redness of your cheeks.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

All the chants were muffled as Jaehyun grabbed the back of your head. Your eyes widened, muscles frozen. You closed your eyes and waited for his lips to touch yours, but nothing came.

Someone cleared her throat. You opened your eyes and saw Madame Juana walking towards you. She smiled, pearlescent white teeth flashing.

“Nice to see you here, Y/N.” Then she gave you a peck on the cheek before turning her eyes to Jaehyun. Her smile quickly dropped to a frown as she took in his aura. “And you. Jung Jaehyun.”

Her smile returned when she looked at you again, “Come. Let’s talk about your parents.”

Madame Juana led you through a corridor across the entrance you walked in earlier. Unlike the other one, the corridor was flashing with lights, almost blinding you. She opened the door at the end of it. Stacks of books and bookshelves filled your sight as you blinked and refocused your eyes.

“As you can see, I have too many visitors to entertain tonight. Talk.” She waved her fingers languidly as Jaehyun closed the door behind him.

“We need your help to enchant a tongueless gravedigger,” you started.

Madame Juana sat, her eyes looking straight at yours. “I’ll help you.”

Your happiness swelled up as you didn’t expect her to easily cooperate.

“In one condition.” She propped her chin onto her palm.

“Anything!” You took a step towards her, laying your palms on the top of her table. Jaehyun followed and stood beside you.

“Kill Alena for me.”

Jaehyun tensed, his mouth formed in a thin line. “You are insane.”

You widened your eyes at him in warning and turned your head towards Madame Juana instead. “Who is this Alena?”

When she attempted to speak, Jaehyun cut her off, providing you the answers himself. “She’s the head of the Detritius clan of vampires.”

You shot Juana a look. “What makes you think I could kill her?” Even if driven by madness, you still could not. Right now, you doubt your skills— you doubt even your determination.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” She raised her finger towards Jaehyun to shut him up. “I’ve cursed Alena to die in the hands of a mortal. Your goal to make the gravedigger speak is fitting to my intentions. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think? Not unless you’re ready to slash your own tongue out of your mouth.” She smiled her alluring smile.

You took a glimpse at Jaehyun. He was shaking his head at you, but this is your chance. It’s preposterous, but it is the only way. You shut your eyes for a moment and took deep breaths before facing Juana again.

Then you nodded.

“Perfect!” She clasped her hands. “Visit me again tomorrow, so we could talk about it in details. Don’t worry, I’m not sending you to war without weapons, darling.” She stood up and brought her hand to your cheek, caressing it. “Now get out. Both of you.”

You did as you were told, your heart hammering against your chest. Jaehyun did not speak to you until you’ve reached the outside of the mansion and until you grabbed his arm.

“Jaehyun—”

He sighed, “Y/N, I’m not sure about this one.”

You released a breath, “Why? Jaehyun, you can’t bail—”

“Alena… I am bound to her.” He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes suddenly seeing the ground more interesting than you.

You took a step back. His words blowing you out of proportion. “I don’t understand.”

Only then he looked up to you, his eyes reflecting something you could not decipher. “Y/N, Alena is my fiancée.”

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (3/17/2021)?

Justice League #59: This issue feels like the biggest testament to the word that Infinite Frontier is just the interim before the real relaunch that’s coming, because there is zero pomp or circumstance here of the kind you’d expect even if you think Bendis sucks. Young Justice of all things felt weightier than this in its debut; this is perfectly passable mind you, but if it was anything less than Justice League I’d go “ok, this is one of those Bendis books I don’t care about” and pass it by. I’m pretty sure his more substantial plans for the title are being kept for a proper new #1 waiting in the wings, but in the meantime it’s a perfectly slick team book with a couple decent bits, a bunch of my favorite characters, and pretty Marquez/Bonvillain art so I’m fine with it. Obviously the V/Xermanico Justice League Dark backup was the highlight.

Superman: Red and Blue #1: Apparently a lot of Superman fans didn’t like this, which doesn’t surprise me - a lot of it is Clark beaten down, needing help, or otherwise on the back foot one way or another, and that triggers a lot of alarm bells for a certain type of stan at this point. For my money though these were almost all great, and I was even able to get the cover by the Final Fantasy logo artist Yoshitaka Amano.

* Ridley/Henry/Bellaire/Sharp: The big advertised presentation, I’ve been really curious in the wake of Other History what Ridley would do with a Superman solo story and this absolutely didn’t disappoint. A harrowing take on Clark as truly vulnerable and how his mindset shifts or doesn’t in response I’m kind of astonished DC let the team get away with, this came together wonderfully.

* Easton/Lieber/Chan/Cowles: The weakest of the bunch, a severe but moving tale contrasting Superman’s splashy adventures with his potential impact on those around him bookended by some much weaker stock “are you sure you’re doing enough?” material, though it’s absolutely beautiful under Lieber and Chan, especially the final page.

* Craig/Bennett: A fantastic little tale of parallels on the human scale existing in Superman’s wake, and while that material’s only front-and-center for a couple panels here I would kill to see Craig draw a big cosmic epic.

* Watters/Dani/Sharpe: The big standout aside from Ridley’s story, there’s kind of no excuse for this not having been the first feature of the issue given it’s about the gimmick of the format in a way that leads directly out of its inspiration in Batman: Black and White. I do wonder what colorblind readers would make of the message of this one though, even if I read it the point of what happened as extending beyond the literal physical. In any case, I desperately hope this and Future State: Superman/Wonder Woman won’t be the extent of Watters’ work in this territory.

* Bennett/Thompson/Peteri: A simple but sweet little story of a young Clark learning a formative lesson - don’t see the gimmick that often of having both caption boxes and thought balloons around for different purposes, and it’s one I’m always happy to see.

Nightwing #78: As a Taylor fan, gotta say, this sucks. Flat, twee, totally without narrative momentum or weight except for a single completely bonkers new element in Dick’s world I’ll discuss in another ask, and of all things for some reason a bizarrely shameless Fraction/Aja Hawkeye ripoff alongside its rote regurgitation of Dixon and Snyder. This is everything people who hate the guy’s (non-Injustice, non-DCeased) work think of it as, and Redondo, Lucas, and Abbott’s next level, jaw-droppingly gorgeous work here is crushingly wasted. I’m not sure I can judge this as a ‘failure’ when it’s absolutely going to succeed at its actual goals - not as a story even if I understand even more people are pulling it than the new JL, but as contextless panels to circulate around comics Twitter/Tumblr in perpetuity - but as someone who thought a lot of Taylor’s strengths have been often overlooked and was hoping he’d pull out of some of his worst habits, it’s such a downer to watch him dive in face-first. An instant drop.

Catwoman #29: Fully out of the Brubaker shadow for me at this point and into its own oddball take on crime in Gotham, it doesn’t seem to be attracting much heat but I hope the team gets the space to see its story through and I suspect this run will be looked back on very fondly as a hidden gem in years to come.

Batman vs. Ra’s Al Ghul #5: IT’S BACK BABY, AND LESS EXPLICABLE THAN EVER. So happy.

Captain America Anniversary Tribute #1: Actually picked this up for a friend of the family who was interested and it’ll be shipped to him later, but read it while we have it and it’s exactly what it says on the tin, so if a bunch of artists doing their spins on these pages appeals it’s perfectly worth your time.

Iron Man #7: I continue to be unable to believe in the best way that this is what the ongoing Iron Man comic is about now.

S.W.O.R.D. #4: Alright, alright, alright - probably the weakest issue so far (which is to say it’s still a lot of fun by most any other books’ standard), but we’re past the King In Black of it all and ready to get into the promise of that debut.

Radiant Black #2: I was really concerned whether this would live up to the promise of the first issue or immediately begin to decline, but I’m happy to report that so far this seems like it’s leaning into its better aspects even if the superheroism remains the weaker half, and I’m still curious to see where this goes.

Abbott 1973 #3: Picked up some after the last issue was losing me, I’m back in the tank for the remaining couple.

Orphan and the Five Beasts #1: Stokoe doing kung-fu horror, madness, and righteous vengeance, an easy win.

Ultramega #1: I was skeptical about this one - I’d barely heard of James Harren even as folks were suddenly talking as if him doing work was long understood as a must-see, the preview didn’t especially grab me, and this didn’t seem to much stand out to me among the increasing surge of toku-inspired material. I was ready for the hype to betray me, but while I’ve seen a critique of this as a sausage-fest unwittingly or otherwise building a lot of its narrative on the pain and death of mothers I’d like to see femme or nonbinary critics unpack further, as a reading experience (prior to seeing said critique) this absolutely blew me away. Incredibly dense even at 60 pages - where a lot of those are splash pages no less - beautifully disgusting, gut-wrenching even aside from the pages with guts being wrenched, monumental, and mysterious, a tale of what happens when we’re let down by the men forced into the role of godling-saviors and what happens next. That Harren mentions in the afterward that this is the first comic he’s written is as remarkable as its is infuriating.

[knifeonmars]

Capsule Reviews, February 2021

Here's some things I've been reading.

The Curse of Brimstone 

DC's New Age of Heroes books, emerging from the beginning of Scott Snyder's creative-flameout-as-crossover-event Metal, mostly constituted riffs on Marvel heroes like the Fantastic Four (in The Terrifics) or the Hulk (in Damage). The Curse of Brimstone is a riff on Ghost Rider. It's... uneven. The first volume is generally pretty good, and when Phillip Tan is drawing it, as he does the first three and a half issues, it's gorgeous and unique, when he departs though, the quality takes a nose dive. None of the replacement artists, including the great Denis Cowan, can quite fill his shoes, and the story gets old fast. Guy makes a deal with the devil (or rather, a devil-like inhabitant of the "Dark Multiverse" as a not horribly handled tie-in to the conceits of Metal), realizes it's a raw deal, and rebels. The characters are flat, lots of time is spent with the main character's sister haranguing him to not use his powers (it is, in my humble opinion, something of a cardinal sin to have a character whose primary role is telling other characters to stop doing interesting things), too many potboiler "I know you're still in there!/I can feel this power consuming me!" exchanges, a couple of underwhelming guest spots (including a genuinely pointless appearance by the old, white, boring Doctor Fate) too many flashbacks, and not enough of the action. There's potential in the classic demonic hero rebelling plotline and its link to the liminal spaces of the DC universe, forgotten towns and economic depression, but the wheels come off this series pretty much as soon as Tan leaves. The really disappointing this is that the series is clearly built as an artistic showcase, so after Tan's shockingly early departure, the main appeal of the series is gone and there's nothing left but the playing out of an obviously threadbare story.

Star Wars - Boba Fett: Death, Lies, and Treachery

I don't care much about Star Wars these days, and I think that most of the old Expanded Universe was, as evidenced by Crimson Empire, pretty bad. Death, Lies, and Treachery, is that rare Star Wars EU comic which is actually good. John Wagner writes and he's in full-on 2000 AD mode, writing Boba Fett as a slightly more unpleasant Johnny Alpha (who is like a mercenary Judge Dredd, for those unfamiliar) right on down to the appearance of a funny alien sidekick for one of the characters. The main attraction is Cam Kennedy's art though, along with his inimitable colors: this might be the best looking Star Wars comic ever. The designs are all weird and chunky, with an almost kitbashed feeling that captures the lived in aesthetic of classic Star Wars, and the colors are one of a kind. Natural, neutral white light does not exist in this comic, everything is always bathed at all times in lurid greens or yellows, occasionally reds, and it looks incredible. In terms of "Expanded Universe" material for Star Wars, this hits the sweet spot of looking and feeling of a piece, but exploring the edges of the concept with a unique voice. It's great. I read this digitally, but I'd consider it a must-buy in print if I ever get the chance at a deal.

Zaroff

Zaroff is a French comic (novel? novella?). It's like 90 pages and it delivers exactly on its premise of "Die Hard starring the bad guy from The Most Dangerous Game." It's pretty good. Count Zaroff, he of the habitual hunting of humans, turns out to have killed a mafia don at some point, and after miraculously escaping his own seeming death at the end of the original story, finds himself hunted by the irate associates of this gangster, who have brought along Zaroff's sister and her kids to spice things up. Zaroff not only finds himself the hunt, but he also has to protect his estranged family as they struggle to survive. Nothing about this book or its twists and turns is likely to surprise you, but I don't think being surprised is always necessary for quality. Zaroff delivers on pulpy, early-20th century jungle action, is gorgeously rendered, and the fact that Zaroff himself is an unrepentant villain adds just enough of an unexpected element to the proceedings and character dynamics that it doesn't feel rote. There's a couple of points, ones typical of Eurocomics, which spark a slight sour note, such as some "period appropriate" racism and flashes of the male gaze, but for the most part these are relatively contained. It's good.

Batman: Gothic

Long before Grant Morrison did their Bat-epic, they wrote Batman: Gothic, an entirely different, but then again maybe not so different, kind of thing. It starts off with what must be called a riff on Fritz Lang's film, M, only where that story ends with a crew of gangsters deciding they cannot pass moral judgment on a deranged child-murderer, in Morrison's story they go ahead and kill him, only for the killer to return years later to rather horribly murder all of them as a warmup for a grandiose scheme involving unleashing a weaponized form of the bubonic plague on Gotham City as an offering to Satan. Along the way it turns out that said villain, one Mr. Whisper, is a former schoolmaster of Bruce Wayne's, who terrified the young Batman in the days before his parent's deaths. It's an earlier Morrison story and it shows. Certain elements presage their later Batman work; Mr. Whisper as a satanic enemy recalls the later Doctor Hurt, and the cathedral Mr. Whisper built to harvest souls recalls what writers like Morrison, Milligan, and Snyder would do concerning Gotham as a whole years later.The art, by Klaus Janson, is spectacular. If you're familiar at all with his work collaborating with Frank Miller you'll see him continuing in a similar vein and it's all quite good, even when he stretches beyond the street milieu which most readers might know him from. There's one particular sequence where Janson renders a needlessly complicated Rube Goldberg machine in motion that manages to work despite being static images. The writing by Morrison though, is not their finest. The M riff doesn't last as long as it could, and Mr. Whisper's turn in the latter half of the story from delicious creepy wraith to a cackling mass murderer who puts Batman in an easily escaped death trap feels like something of a letdown from the promise of the first half of the book. Gothic is good, but not, in my opinion, great. It's certainly worth checking out for Morrison fans however, and I imagine that someone well-versed in his latter Batman stuff might be able to find some real resonance between the two.

Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters

For a long, long time, Longbow Hunters was THE Green Arrow story. It is to Green Arrow as TDKR is to Batman, deliberately so. Mike Grell wrote and drew the reinvention of the character from his role as the Justice League's resident limousine liberal to a gritty urban vigilante operating in Seattle over the course of these three issues, which he'd follow up with a subsequent ongoing. Going back to it, it certainly merits its reputation, but its far from timeless. Grell's art is unimpeachable absolutely incredible, with great splashes and spreads, subtle colors, and really great figure work. The narrative is almost so 80's it hurts though, revolving around West Coast serial killers, cocaine, the CIA and the Iran-Contra scandal, and the Yakuza, and it's hard to look back at some of this stuff without smirking. The story begins with a teenager strung out on tainted coke sprinting through a window in a scene that's right out of Reefer Madness. In the cold light of a day 30+ years later, parts of it look more than a little silly. The 80's-ness of it all doesn't stop with that stuff though, even the superhero elements smack of it. Green Arrow realizes that he's lost a step and has be to be shown a way forward by an Asian woman skilled in the martial arts (recalling Vic Sage's reinvention in the pages of The Question), and Black Canary gets captured and torture off-panel for the sake of showing that this is real crime now, not the superhero silliness they've dealt with before. The treatment of Black Canary here is pretty markedly heinous, it's a classic fridging and Grell's claims that he didn't intentionally imply sexual assault in his depiction of her torture is probably true, but still feels more than a little weak considering how he chose to render it.The final analysis is that this book is good, but it exists strictly in the frame of the 1980's. If you're a fan of Green Arrow, there are worse books to pick up, or if you're interested in that era of DC Comics it's more than worth it, but as a matter of general interest I wouldn't recommend it very highly.

SHIELD by Steranko

Jim Steranko is sort of the prodigy of the early Marvel years, a young guy who came up through the system, blossomed into an incredible talent, and then left the company, and by and large the industry, behind. He would go on to dabble in publishing, work in other mediums, and generally kick around as the prodigal son of Marvel Comics. This collection, of both his Nick Fury shorts in the pages of Strange Tales and the four issues he drew of the original Nick Fury solo series, charts Steranko's growth as an artist. The book starts off with Steranko working from Jack Kirby's layouts with Stan Lee's dialogue and writing, and Steranko might be the one guy in history for whom working off of Kirby's blueprints is clearly holding him back. The first third or so of this collection really isn't much to write home about, as Steranko is obviously constrained by someone else's style, and at the end of the day those early stories still read as somewhat uninspired pulp compared to the highlights of early Marvel. There are flashes though, of techniques and ideas, which foreshadow what Steranko is capable of, and when he finally takes over as solo writer/artist it's like he's been unleashed. He immediately has Nick Fury tear off his shirt and start throwing guys around over psychedelic effects. He writes out most of Kirby and Lee's frankly uninspired boys' club supporting cast, he makes Fury visibly older, wearier, but also so much cooler. It's the birth of Nick Fury as a distinctly comic book super spy.By the time he finishes wrapping up the previous writers' plotline with Hydra and Baron von Strucker, Steranko is firing on all cylinders. By the time it gets to Steranko's Fury solo series, he's somehow surpassed himself, turning in effects, panel structures, and weird stories which make the earlier installment about a suit-wearing Man from UNCLE knockoff and its strict six-panel layouts look absolutely fossilized.I can't recommend this collection highly enough for any fan of the artform, even if the stories themselves might not be everyone's cup of tear. It's truly incredible to watch Steranko emerge as an artist over the course of this single collection. The book itself has a few problems, it's not the most elegantly designed in its supporting materials and index, but the content of it more than outweighs that. It's great stuff.

[superman86to99]

Superman: The Man of Steel #27 (November 1993)

Lex Luthor Jr. throws a party in honor of Superman's resurrection in his fancy blimp, but some Underworlders rudely barge in uninvited. Also, they try to kill everyone, which is even ruder. These buttfaced sewer mutants are upset at one of the blimp's VIP guests, Project Cadmus Director Paul Westfield, for flooding their home and drowning a bunch of them a while back. The Underworlders go to some mysterious S&M enthusiast called Bloodthirst to ask for a way to kill Westfield, and when he suggests blowing up the blimp, one of them is like "But innocent people will die!" Bloodthirst then demonstrates his blood thirst by killing that guy in front of the others, who decide to go on with the plan.

Meanwhile, Lois Lane investigates the strange fact that unprofitable buildings owned by LexCorp are crumbling or going up in flames, supposedly due to Doomsday's fault -- apparently, he punched Metropolis so hard, shit is still falling down months later. Surely good ol' Lex Jr. has nothing to do this! Lois attends the blimp party intending to talk to Lex Jr. about the exploding buildings issue. He's very eager to talk to her too because, hot damn, look at her.

(Not sure if Jimmy is drooling because of Lois or because he's just Jimmy.)

That's when the Underworlders (who snuck in using cloaking devices to hide their ugliness) start hassling Westfield, and soon all hell breaks loose in that classic Jon Bogdanove style. Superman makes his fashionably late entry to the party right in time to save Lex Jr. as he falls to his death. He also gets rid of the Underworlders pretty easily (despite the giant '90s weapons Bloodthirst gave them) and takes the blimp down safely.

The next day, Lois has her formal interview with Lex Jr. and he tries to get fresh with her, which cements her impression that he's just like his "dad". Come on, that's unfair! Then Lex sees her making out with some mild-mannered dweeb with glasses and a ponytail and decides everyone must "burn" so, uh, maybe she had a point.

Character-Watch:

First actual appearance of Bloodthirst, who was first mentioned (as "Blood Thirst") almost exactly one year ago on Man of Steel #18. Right now, all we know about him is that he likes to go around sowing chaos in cities around the world, and now it's Metropolis' turn. He won't stick around for long, but considering that we've got two major storylines called "The Battle of Metropolis" and "The Fall of Metropolis" coming up in 1994, I'd say he was pretty successful. (Also, just realized that Lex's "they'll all burn!" moment is probably foreshadowing that too.)

This is also the debut of a surprisingly much more durable character: Franklin Stern, aka "Frankenstern", the Daily Planet's publisher and an old buddy of Perry White. Looking forward to the issue with their youthful KKK-punching adventures.

Plotline-Watch:

This is actually the beginning of the end for poor Lex Jr. So far Lois and Clark have more or less been unaware of his shitty side, but now that she's got his scent, he's screwed. Ironic that after causing so many murders and supervillain terrorist attacks, in the end it's insurance fraud what will eventually cause Lex's downfall.

On top of that, Lex is losing his shapeshifting alternate dimension girlfriend, Supergirl. He's mad at her for going to fight the Cyborg in Engine City and then disappearing for a few days (because she was posing as Clark Kent), and then she gets mad at him for ignoring her to go gawk at Lois. You can do so much better, girl! Hell, even a caped horse would be preferable to this guy.

Another significant event in this issue: Lois gets a haircut! And it's Cyndi, the same hairdresser she visited almost four years ago in Superman #45, which pleases my continuity obsessed-ass.

After being the star of this comic for the past several months, Steel barely appears for a few panels, in which his psychic pal tells him "see you in Washington". Apparently she's been reading the solicitations for his solo comic. Speaking of solo comics, note Superboy staring longingly at a headshot of his friend Tana, who just moved to Hawaii...

Pa Kent is almost as heartbroken about the fact that he can't eat Ma's famous rhubarb pie (since he's on a diet after his heart attack).

Finally, this is also the fateful issue in which Clark Kent decides to become roommates with Jimmy Olsen, since his parents gave up his apartment while he was dead. Is... Jimmy tugging on Clark's ponytail? (Whit looks devastated that Clark didn't room with him instead.)

Patreon-Watch:

Special shout out to our very first Patreons ever, Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris "Ace" Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, and Patrick D. Ryall! To be as cool as them, and gain access to two exclusive ‘90s Superman-related articles (with more coming every month), plus new Superman art from Don, click here: https://patreon.com/Superman86to99

And speaking of Don, stick around for his section after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

We open with a great cover, echoes of my favourite Bogdanove image, his pin-up in Action #600.  There’s just something about Superman rescuing kids from a fire that really works. [Max: Same! It’s why I love the panel below, too.]

Inside the issue, I was struck right away with what I viewed to be the start of Bogdanove’s looser, late style.  Bogdanove’s art was always a little looser and more cartoony than the rest of the super books, but after what I viewed as top level effort during the “Death” and “Return” storylines, Man of Steel settles into a pretty sketchy, almost carefree style that really sets it apart from the more realistic art of the other books.  As much as I think this could have to do with Bogdanove (I noticed a similar looseness toward the end of his Power Pack run) I actually think the layouts look more or less the same as the previous issues, making me think it might be the inking that is getting a little loose, relative to previous issues, with thicker, flatter ink lines than during the “Return” storyline, or certain issues when Janke was inking Ordway.  (I say all of this with the caveat that everyone involved is about a million times better than me as an artist, these are just my observations—I wish I could be as good as Bogdanove, or Janke’s sloppiest work on my best day!)

That’s not to say that there isn’t still some amazing imagery in this issue.  The full page splash, on page 5, of Superman soaring back to Metropolis with Lois in his arms is great—I love the lighting effects coming up from the bright city, as well as the motion created by the swirling cape.  Nice, nice stuff.

The next page is a cute and intimate look for Lois in her terrycloth robe which was a highlight for me.

Page 12’s half-page spread of the cityscape, with zeppelin is very well done, and Supergirl’s transformation on page 13 looks great.  The way she is drawn here also highlights the ongoing creepiness of her relationship with Lex II, as she looks very young, which she definitely is, especially mentally at this point.

Bog always excels at the more cheesecakey panels and the first look at Lois’ Teri Hatcher inspired haircut (and evening gown) doesn’t disappoint (though I could have done with losing Jimmy literally drooling!). The full page splash of Superman lifting the gondola is another great image.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS

Lots of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman stuff in this issue, as Max pointed out.  They make reference to Lois getting her hair cut, and also hastily mention that Ma Kent is losing weight, and will cut her hair, perhaps in an effort to align the show closer to the look of Martha Kent as played by K Callan. [Max: Wow, I actually hadn’t noticed the L&C haircuts similarity but it makes total sense.]

We’re fully in the Tarzan-hair era (don’t call it a mullet) and Clark’s hair is never longer than when he’s being drawn by Bogdanove.  The ponytail is tough to take, but adding a medallion, as Clark has on page 7, is a bridge to douchiness too far, for me. [Max: Maybe he got it from Jeb?]

Page 10 has a kid in a Sunsoft t-shirt, a reference to the video game maker responsible for the 1992 (hard as hell!) Superman game, and 1994’s The Death and Return of Superman.

I like that even someone as rarely seen as Lois’ hairstylist is still consistent, as Cyndi last appeared in Superman #45.

I find it interesting how long it took for Lois to get wise on Lex II—the original Luthor was so evil, I always found it a little unbelievable that he could keep up the act long enough to fool anyone, masquerading as his own son. [Max: I think the Jesus look helped make him appear more saintly.]

[sunritual]

Let’s try this again

They should make a law where if the police don’t read you your Miranda rights you get out of jail free, like if you don’t get your receipt at fast food restaurants you get a mail free

The shaggy law - There should be a law that if you continuously and shamelessly deny doing something, no matter how indisputably obvious it is that you did it, you should get off free for pure savegery.

Confederates as “rebels for tradition” is laughable

Ram rainbow spiral horns profile.

People think grammar rules are etched into the universe — they’re not. When people say AAve is incorrect and ignorant, they say that their conception of how one should speak is inherently correct despite no evidence/truth. Grammar is agreed upon not mandated

Hippie sauce infusion pizza joint

Plain nude balconette with little purple and pink flowers at wiring

How could anyone predict anything happening but how could any be surpised either

Hierarchies - nahhhh

Humans aren’t inherently higher than any other creature or thing, but as humans i don’t think it’s wrong to prioritize other humans. There no better or worse but there is optimal for certain environments and lifestyles.

What differentiates a piece of art from a slightly different replica - when is it an entirely different piece altogether? Moving a figure slightly? Adding a splash of paint ? Changing a color to the point where no one could tell? Is the persons perception the deciding factor or what’s actually on the canvas. If abstract art is about the perception, and the waning behind it - does it change with these things?

An exhibit where people are invited to paint over and destroy or change the art

The differences between us and other. Are feeble - not illusory but

Periwinkle sky blue black and white each of a half circle . Faded out

Uni should be about exploring ideas — new and old famillar and foreign - honeing writing reading reasoning debating listening etc skills.

Umm, Karen were your parents married when you were born?

Ummmm no, umm i mean , uh ,yes —what??

Then why are you policing what other people do?

Dark blue light blue orange lemon circles layer on top of each other, several difffent sizes

Job apps tip!! For every job you apply to , Change your last name on your resume to the last name of the hiring manager and they will think you are related to them and hire you with nepotism. ( then, or coarse, legally when you get the job)

Unpopular opinion: i don’t really mind diarrhea

I for one think it’s incredibly brave of the brats girls to reclaim such a derogatory term

Starting every Describtion of every British show with “its kind of like skins but..”

Beanie baskin took that treat she snatched it - she ain’t even askin

The squad bod - a group of ghost friends share one body in which they have to live their lives -

My playlists are a matter of fact, not opinion. They reveal truths about the human experience

A cats gorilla imeritive of aesthetics.

I don’t chose them, they are not for joy but for truth. They are not intelligible but feel able

📝 narrative - longing

👼 chaotic

🌾 childlike wonder

Things that seem homo and phobic ATST

- Woodstock

- Brown eyed girl

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on ya when you think everything BG a gone wrong and everything bows up in your face

If women can’t do drag because they have an advantage then what is drag? Is it having good looking tits and a waist ? Looking like woman? or is it about having charisma uniqueness nerve and talent?

Examining Tik toks through different philosophical lenses

What makes it so they put parenthesis around lyrics in a song? What intonations and such make it parenthesis worthy

What’s an article of clothing from your childhood that you viscerally remember for seemingly no reason

I feel like the problem with the property brothers is they had too good of a childhood

Do you ever wonder if personality traits would be diffferntnin different cultures? Would a quiet person be even quieter if they were brought up in North Korea? Or the same amount of talkativity? Do we have the traits no matter what, or are we inclined to be more of one way than the others around us. Are personality traits created by comparison to those around?

Maybe the anxiety comes from knowing your not “supposed” to be as quiet as you are. You don’t really want to talk, that’s okay , but it’s expected that you do. So you are anxiety that your not living up

I find happiness every single day

This feeling has made me so appreciative of my mental state usually. How many people feel like this on the regular? How many people have this as their default? I am so lucky. My default is happy. I have my issues, but i need to appreciate the gift i was given. I was given elation. Childlike wonder. Curiosity. Adventurousness. Self completion and fullness. The rest will come.

If you see a celebrity you want to talk to in public but don’t want to bother them, make sure they don’t see that you saw them and start a fake conversation telling a friend that they should buy a product they are a sponsor for, and that they should use their coupon code. When they approach you to thank you for being such a loyal fan, obviously pretend to be shocked that they just so happened to be there

Christianity excuses selfish politics and beliefs

Things i never would’ve noticed if they weren’t pointed out to me:

-Left and right handed ness

Rating sports teams by uniform colors

Balloon animals but make it clothing!

Logics doesn’t care about your feelings, but it certainly cares about your biasees.

He who findeth keepith, whilst he who loosith weepith.

Religious thought often starts at the conclusion they want and attempts to make arguments justifying it.

Jewish debate starts with an agreement that we are going to follow the book, but argues about what the book truly says. Not good enough when you are still just following the book

Why did Jesus need to die for our sins

Dream - swimming in a lake and bump into something you think is a human tying to save to but is it! Oct 29 9:03

Candle company logo etc

I’m sorry for your loss

It’s not oka

If people can accept that stupid bad jokes can be

Is there a reason for each thing existing? Sufficient reason

Understanding if an area is a matter of perspective or fact? Is it Emperical ?

If you assume you have free will you limit your critical thinking ability and therefor stour actual free will - you need to navigate technology such as algorithms that show you why at you want to see or you completely loose free will - you cannot chose when you don’t even know a choice. there is Somthing controlling you

Revelation is within it doesn’t involve others - can happen in a moment

Revolution- requires work and years and years of convincing others m

What counts as a second chance? What counts as a first chance? What does giving someone the benefit of the doubt entail ? Letting them out of jail , or letting them have a 2nd term as president.

**Picture of coke or Pepsi book**

Trump supporters be like: THIS is the BALLOt sleepy crooked joe SEND to MY neighbor. So much FOR democracy

One flew over the coup coups nest

Ashge-nazi = Jewish trump supporter

The heathers of the USA are Cali, New York and Texas. Florida, too

Shape shifting would solve all of this. I could go to Washington DC, pretend to be trump, concede then leave. It would be hilarious, however if me and trump looked identical and had to so the most idiotic crazy shit to prove to America that we indeed are the true DJ.

Coup busting outfit - light cute short sleeve camo shirts , army green super utalitarian cargo pants , double sash belts in leather with grommets studs or spikes (to be decided by team (with democracy) or left up to the individual) leather (vegan available) lace up knee high boots (maybe with spikes if not too 2012) and the pies de resistance two army green denim shoulder high gloves that fold down as far as needed for the comfort of the fighter. Will be adorned with patches decided by the wearer. Edges will be frayed to honor to the coup busting aesthetic and spirit of the endeavor. We can decide on a signature lip color, but spf is required for all fighters. Of coarse we will have those football stripes below the eyes, don’t be stupid.

How far away can something be from a face and still have humans think it’s a face

Senator Portman - i hope you are well, and want to thank you for the hard work you have put in to this election. However, it has become abundantly clear that joe Biden and Kamala Harris have secured more than enough electoral and popular votes to warrant recognition as president and vice elect. Upon reading the transcripts of he hopeless court cases, there is absolutely no evidence of vote measurable fraud. is time you stand up for democracy and face reality by congratulating he pair on their success. Americans and scared and they need a powerful republican voice to demounce the unsubstantiated conspircy theories that attempt to thwart democracy in this beautiful county. Please do the right thing , and stand with sanity, freedom and democracy. History books and citizens will thank you. May god bless you, your staff and loved ones

Could mermaids exist through evolution in the future

Me learning about real us history - all the nations destroyed by the USA—- I’m the baaad Guy

The rest of the world - duh dodododosodo

Print that looks like a page of writing that has been sourced in water so it’s bleeding and darker in speckles

Zamps= examples

Clothes with green screen cut outs

Robots don’t need to be sentient to destroy us.

Navy mock neck long sleeves big orange and little white stripe on tube cage sides

A veritcal line stretch waistband

Cross cross and straps back

Square high neck

Scarlet polka dots around can light blue text and beach image as front

Blue stroke red inside square, blue triangle rainbow with eye and funky font

Y either know a particular topic or not , but it’s hard to pin down intelligence on one category

Cream background , ice cream pink script name kinda bev hills hotel script looking ish

Move your mouth in a differ way

Supersonic vibrating butt cleaner

Half magenta half red violet a blue teacup in the center with white floral frills thick serif font

Pink background am orange flower in a vase white present ribbon n red as a table

An app that familiarizes people with science - through experimental learning ― hands on experiences that make it seem less top down and authoritarian , and more like a set of steps that we take, things that anyone can do to get closer with nature and the world

A social media philosophy app - teaches what others said and gives people a chance to express their views , postulate, argue, etc gadfly? How would be avoid a shit show, how can we make social media more humanitarian. how can we care about people while also expressing deeply held ideas , how can we encourage users to examine their deeply held ideas without alienating them. How can we discourage hatred and abuse and groupthink with design? How do we slow people down and encourage them to recognize the human behind the screen. Street epistemology? Socratic dialogue?

Socrates - asking questions. Breaking it down to bits. Deeply understanding their argument. Asking about different possibilities and circumstances. Take vast assumptions and show scenarios that make go against them.

Build fact checking into apps

Narrative self vs experiential

Walks you through steps of the sciefitifc method and encourages you to explain how you feel each step actually helped you- then walks you through a scientist doing the same for their reasarch

Republicans only want to be free in the specific ways that benefit corporations

Are Christians more willing to support the death pen early because they already believe in the cruel and overstepping punishment of hell?

Where did the idea come from that you need to remain impartial when trying to persuade

The idea that there is someone in a similar but different dwelling, hearing similar but different sounds and feeling similar but different feelings is wild

We synthesize sets of traits, and particular actions in a super biased culturally constructed way

With the way we see things as humans- we categorize things into groups that aren’t really reaaal ― paratheletic groups

I just want the people and jobs that benefit society

Connection to nietzsches Dionysian art and eckheart tolle/Taoism

No matter your personality, there is probably a part of the world that you would fit in with naturally.

An ordinary girl is selected as one of the representatives of earth in the first meeting of various alien species after one advanced planet discovered and United 10. Confused as to why she was chosen, she goes on her journey meeting

Wha ba Bada da da da da dada he’s a wha ba ba dadada as a matter of fact it’s not my fault if you came up here thinking that you would win

Wanting to break boundaries and rules for the sake those who are hurt by the rules

You are imagining the best case scenario of the life you want to have and experience Ming the reality of the life you so have.

Yes her drips cosmetics line to students i. Class

Chez it people can goldfish people

Your personality flows where a system needs it to go to maintain balance

[tsarisfanfiction]

Awe

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Virgil, Gordon

More for @gumnut-logic​‘s #irrelief!  Another one for you, Nutty - “artist!Virgil and science!Gordon go on an underwater photography jaunt” -  although I’m starting to get really bad at actually keeping to prompts beyond the vaguest links, oops... *(forgot the prompt mentioned photography)*

The Shelbys were probably expecting a certain beautiful Lady when Gordon asked to bring a plus one, not an older brother.

Virgil had a soft spot for Thunderbird Four.  While nothing could possibly replace Thunderbird Two for him, and as far as piloting his brothers’ Thunderbirds went, Four was quite possibly at the bottom of his preference list, there was something about the little yellow sub that brought a smile to his face.

Maybe it was the fact that she was, in a way, part of Thunderbird Two.  She had her own island launch, yes, but Thunderbird Two had an entire module dedicated to the small ‘bird, which definitely counted for something.  Or maybe it was her bright yellow colour, a splash of cheer that matched her aquanaut’s taste for loud shirts and lightened the mood.

Alternatively, it was because she gave him views like this.

He was trained to pilot her, of course, but the cabin was minuscule (perfectly suited to the soon-to-be shortest brother) and he got a shoulder cramp if he remained in there for any real length of time.  But her passenger bay was reasonably spacious in comparison, and he sat perfectly contently in one of the seats, looking out the clear airlock doors to the underwater view.

And what a view it was.

Gordon had received an invitation from the Shelby family to come and see the restoration work that had been taking place on the Supreme Barrier Reef, and being Gordon he had immediately leapt at the opportunity to live underwater for a few days.  As an oceanographer-in-training, particularly one with an interest in the underwater ecosystems, studying the Supreme Barrier Reef was a dream come true and woe betide anyone that tried to tell him he couldn’t go (no-one tried).

Virgil’s presence on the trip was not quite so clear cut.  Having two operatives out of action at the same time made Scott jittery, but his eldest brother also refused to push them too hard, nowadays – Dad’s return had marked the end of that problem, even if others had sparked up in its wake.  Virgil was due time off, and it had been Gordon’s idea that he come along, too. Dad had supported it, reasoning that if Two was needed, Alan or Scott could pilot her.  Virgil sincerely hoped Two would not be needed, and not just because if she was needed that meant someone was in trouble.  Speed freaks had no business piloting a freight plane, and he didn’t plan on replacing burnt-out coils (again) because a certain brother had forgotten she only went a quarter of the speed of his usual ride.

That was a potential problem for when he got back.  For now, he had much higher priorities.

From a scientific standpoint, Virgil knew nothing about reefs aside from the fact they were coral and had a thriving ecosystem when not being attacked by acid.  That area was all Gordon’s, and he was welcome to it. However, from an artistic standpoint, reefs were a thing of beauty.  Virgil had always wanted to draw one, but the films and photographs didn’t do them justice, and getting to see one up close was incredibly difficult.

Unless, of course, you were an oceanography student who also happened to be a member of International Rescue and chose to save the reef as well as the human lives at risk.  Then, you got invitations to come back, and Gordon had pushed his luck to get the invitation extended for a ‘plus one’. Virgil suspected the Shelbys had been expecting Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, not an older brother.  Still, he’d promised to behave, obey all instructions given, and stay inside the submarine, so the sharp-eyed Helen Shelby had approved his presence.

Deep-sea diving was Gordon’s area, anyway.  Virgil was fine splashing around near the surface, but at these depths he was perfectly content to stay in the dry, sketchpad open across his knees and pencil skating across the high-grade paper as he got the basic shapes down.  Almost out of view, three figures were darting in and around the reef, taking measurements and photographs of the recovering section.

It was their second day underwater, Thunderbird Four barely large enough for the two of them to live in without ending up on top of each other.  Given their location, neither cared to complain at the cramped quarters.  One of the lockers had been temporarily repurposed for Virgil’s required belongings – most of them art supplies, with actual hygiene essentials pared down to the absolute minimum.  Already, he’d filled a sketch book with study after study of the fantastic sight before him, acutely aware that he was unlikely to ever get such an opportunity again.  That had been all in greyscale, a practice in identifying and translating the shapes. His current sketchbook was based in colour.

The B pencil had been discarded, placed back into the tin with its fellows.  In its place Virgil wielded coloured pencils, teals and turquoises, indigos and azures, aquas and cadmiums to try and capture the depth of colour in the water.  The reef itself used every colour in his not inconsiderable arsenal, so vibrantly full of life and movement as fish and other aquatic life Virgil couldn’t begin to identify flickered around the plants and coral that made up such a magnificent feat.

Tomorrow would be their last day, and it was then that Virgil planned to combine his two studies – shape and colour – to try and accurately reproduce the indescribable beauty of the reef.

Gordon had already preemptively called dibs on the first piece of art Virgil deemed suitable for sharing, peeking over his shoulder during the mandatory breaks back inside the submarine to replenish his oxygen supplies and rest from the swimming.

His younger brother was different, in this environment.  Nothing could ever take away his natural tendency to joke, but while he was often making a nuisance of himself on downtime, or determined on a rescue, here he was relaxed.  This was the Gordon doing what he truly loved the most, with no expectations or consequences.

Virgil had a fourth sketchbook that he found himself sporadically adding to, one Gordon (probably) didn’t know about.  Inside it, various Gordons smiled lovingly at the fish – and other things that the blond could no doubt name instantly but Virgil couldn’t begin to guess at what they were – that came up to investigate the strange blue-clad creature encroaching on their home.

The sketch of Gordon and the clown fish (thank you, Gordon’s childhood obsession with Finding Nemo, for that identification), was headed John’s way.  A surprise encounter with what Gordon had told him on his next rest period was a dugong would find its way into Alan’s room.  The breath-taking appearance of a whale would be a present for Dad.  Kayo would appreciate the sea-snake, while the seahorse would go to Scott.  Grandma would get Gordon cautiously greeting an enthusiastic dolphin, and then Gordon could pick whichever one he liked from the rest to go with his pre-claimed reef artwork.

Outside the little submarine that had claimed a small soft spot from Virgil, her aquanaut was returning, signing something beyond Virgil’s basic underwater sign language knowledge (which consisted entirely of a thumbs up that didn’t mean ‘okay’ and a thumb and forefinger circle that did) to the Shelbys as they headed for their own craft.  Virgil hid the fourth sketchbook away before Gordon’s attention returned to him, a jaunty wave that warned him of an imminent airlock opening.

Gordon kept his distance as he re-entered, aware that paper was not waterproof and that, amazing though his uniform was, it was still wet after the latest expedition into the water. Still, he peered over Virgil’s shoulder from the other end of the bay and made an appreciative noise at the splash of colour on the open sketchbook.  Virgil nodded in acknowledgement of his presence and turned onto a fresh page.

His eye caught by what looked like some sort of anemone, he once again put pencil to paper.

[forunfeltimaginations]

Let’s try this again

They should make a law where if the police don’t read you your Miranda rights you get out of jail free, like if you don’t get your receipt at fast food restaurants you get a mail free

The shaggy law - There should be a law that if you continuously and shamelessly deny doing something, no matter how indisputably obvious it is that you did it, you should get off free for pure savegery.

Confederates as “rebels for tradition” is laughable

Ram rainbow spiral horns profile.

People think grammar rules are etched into the universe — they’re not. When people say AAve is incorrect and ignorant, they say that their conception of how one should speak is inherently correct despite no evidence/truth. Grammar is agreed upon not mandated

Hippie sauce infusion pizza joint

Plain nude balconette with little purple and pink flowers at wiring

How could anyone predict anything happening but how could any be surpised either

Hierarchies - nahhhh

Humans aren’t inherently higher than any other creature or thing, but as humans i don’t think it’s wrong to prioritize other humans. There no better or worse but there is optimal for certain environments and lifestyles.

What differentiates a piece of art from a slightly different replica - when is it an entirely different piece altogether? Moving a figure slightly? Adding a splash of paint ? Changing a color to the point where no one could tell? Is the persons perception the deciding factor or what’s actually on the canvas. If abstract art is about the perception, and the waning behind it - does it change with these things?

An exhibit where people are invited to paint over and destroy or change the art

The differences between us and other. Are feeble - not illusory but

Periwinkle sky blue black and white each of a half circle . Faded out

Uni should be about exploring ideas — new and old famillar and foreign - honeing writing reading reasoning debating listening etc skills.

Umm, Karen were your parents married when you were born?

Ummmm no, umm i mean , uh ,yes —what??

Then why are you policing what other people do?

Dark blue light blue orange lemon circles layer on top of each other, several difffent sizes

Job apps tip!! For every job you apply to , Change your last name on your resume to the last name of the hiring manager and they will think you are related to them and hire you with nepotism. ( then, or coarse, legally when you get the job)

Unpopular opinion: i don’t really mind diarrhea

I for one think it’s incredibly brave of the brats girls to reclaim such a derogatory term

Starting every Describtion of every British show with “its kind of like skins but..”

Beanie baskin took that treat she snatched it - she ain’t even askin

The squad bod - a group of ghost friends share one body in which they have to live their lives -

My playlists are a matter of fact, not opinion. They reveal truths about the human experience

A cats gorilla imeritive of aesthetics.

I don’t chose them, they are not for joy but for truth. They are not intelligible but feel able

📝 narrative - longing

👼 chaotic

🌾 childlike wonder

Things that seem homo and phobic ATST

- Woodstock

- Brown eyed girl

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on ya when you think everything BG a gone wrong and everything bows up in your face

If women can’t do drag because they have an advantage then what is drag? Is it having good looking tits and a waist ? Looking like woman? or is it about having charisma uniqueness nerve and talent?

Examining Tik toks through different philosophical lenses

What makes it so they put parenthesis around lyrics in a song? What intonations and such make it parenthesis worthy

What’s an article of clothing from your childhood that you viscerally remember for seemingly no reason

I feel like the problem with the property brothers is they had too good of a childhood

Do you ever wonder if personality traits would be diffferntnin different cultures? Would a quiet person be even quieter if they were brought up in North Korea? Or the same amount of talkativity? Do we have the traits no matter what, or are we inclined to be more of one way than the others around us. Are personality traits created by comparison to those around?

Maybe the anxiety comes from knowing your not “supposed” to be as quiet as you are. You don’t really want to talk, that’s okay , but it’s expected that you do. So you are anxiety that your not living up

I find happiness every single day

This feeling has made me so appreciative of my mental state usually. How many people feel like this on the regular? How many people have this as their default? I am so lucky. My default is happy. I have my issues, but i need to appreciate the gift i was given. I was given elation. Childlike wonder. Curiosity. Adventurousness. Self completion and fullness. The rest will come.

If you see a celebrity you want to talk to in public but don’t want to bother them, make sure they don’t see that you saw them and start a fake conversation telling a friend that they should buy a product they are a sponsor for, and that they should use their coupon code. When they approach you to thank you for being such a loyal fan, obviously pretend to be shocked that they just so happened to be there

Christianity excuses selfish politics and beliefs

Things i never would’ve noticed if they weren’t pointed out to me:

-Left and right handed ness

Rating sports teams by uniform colors

Balloon animals but make it clothing!

Logics doesn’t care about your feelings, but it certainly cares about your biasees.

He who findeth keepith, whilst he who loosith weepith.

Religious thought often starts at the conclusion they want and attempts to make arguments justifying it.

Jewish debate starts with an agreement that we are going to follow the book, but argues about what the book truly says. Not good enough when you are still just following the book

Why did Jesus need to die for our sins

Dream - swimming in a lake and bump into something you think is a human tying to save to but is it! Oct 29 9:03

Candle company logo etc

I’m sorry for your loss

It’s not oka

If people can accept that stupid bad jokes can be

Is there a reason for each thing existing? Sufficient reason

Understanding if an area is a matter of perspective or fact? Is it Emperical ?

If you assume you have free will you limit your critical thinking ability and therefor stour actual free will - you need to navigate technology such as algorithms that show you why at you want to see or you completely loose free will - you cannot chose when you don’t even know a choice. there is Somthing controlling you

Revelation is within it doesn’t involve others - can happen in a moment

Revolution- requires work and years and years of convincing others m

What counts as a second chance? What counts as a first chance? What does giving someone the benefit of the doubt entail ? Letting them out of jail , or letting them have a 2nd term as president.

**Picture of coke or Pepsi book**

Trump supporters be like: THIS is the BALLOt sleepy crooked joe SEND to MY neighbor. So much FOR democracy

One flew over the coup coups nest

Ashge-nazi = Jewish trump supporter

The heathers of the USA are Cali, New York and Texas. Florida, too

Shape shifting would solve all of this. I could go to Washington DC, pretend to be trump, concede then leave. It would be hilarious, however if me and trump looked identical and had to so the most idiotic crazy shit to prove to America that we indeed are the true DJ.

Coup busting outfit - light cute short sleeve camo shirts , army green super utalitarian cargo pants , double sash belts in leather with grommets studs or spikes (to be decided by team (with democracy) or left up to the individual) leather (vegan available) lace up knee high boots (maybe with spikes if not too 2012) and the pies de resistance two army green denim shoulder high gloves that fold down as far as needed for the comfort of the fighter. Will be adorned with patches decided by the wearer. Edges will be frayed to honor to the coup busting aesthetic and spirit of the endeavor. We can decide on a signature lip color, but spf is required for all fighters. Of coarse we will have those football stripes below the eyes, don’t be stupid.

How far away can something be from a face and still have humans think it’s a face

Senator Portman - i hope you are well, and want to thank you for the hard work you have put in to this election. However, it has become abundantly clear that joe Biden and Kamala Harris have secured more than enough electoral and popular votes to warrant recognition as president and vice elect. Upon reading the transcripts of he hopeless court cases, there is absolutely no evidence of vote measurable fraud. is time you stand up for democracy and face reality by congratulating he pair on their success. Americans and scared and they need a powerful republican voice to demounce the unsubstantiated conspircy theories that attempt to thwart democracy in this beautiful county. Please do the right thing , and stand with sanity, freedom and democracy. History books and citizens will thank you. May god bless you, your staff and loved ones

Could mermaids exist through evolution in the future

Me learning about real us history - all the nations destroyed by the USA—- I’m the baaad Guy

The rest of the world - duh dodododosodo

Print that looks like a page of writing that has been sourced in water so it’s bleeding and darker in speckles

Zamps= examples

Clothes with green screen cut outs

Robots don’t need to be sentient to destroy us.

Navy mock neck long sleeves big orange and little white stripe on tube cage sides

A veritcal line stretch waistband

Cross cross and straps back

Square high neck

Scarlet polka dots around can light blue text and beach image as front

Blue stroke red inside square, blue triangle rainbow with eye and funky font

Y either know a particular topic or not , but it’s hard to pin down intelligence on one category

Cream background , ice cream pink script name kinda bev hills hotel script looking ish

Move your mouth in a differ way

Supersonic vibrating butt cleaner

Half magenta half red violet a blue teacup in the center with white floral frills thick serif font

Pink background am orange flower in a vase white present ribbon n red as a table

An app that familiarizes people with science - through experimental learning ― hands on experiences that make it seem less top down and authoritarian , and more like a set of steps that we take, things that anyone can do to get closer with nature and the world

A social media philosophy app - teaches what others said and gives people a chance to express their views , postulate, argue, etc gadfly? How would be avoid a shit show, how can we make social media more humanitarian. how can we care about people while also expressing deeply held ideas , how can we encourage users to examine their deeply held ideas without alienating them. How can we discourage hatred and abuse and groupthink with design? How do we slow people down and encourage them to recognize the human behind the screen. Street epistemology? Socratic dialogue?

Socrates - asking questions. Breaking it down to bits. Deeply understanding their argument. Asking about different possibilities and circumstances. Take vast assumptions and show scenarios that make go against them.

Narrative self vs experiential