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#why even post art online if any random asshole can take it and kind of own it and sell it using an insane amount of pollution
vampire3mpire · 3 years
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everything about nft art makes me feel so like. fucking hopeless. lol
#like the amount of people willing to do such an insane amount of damage to the environment for a quick buck#and even if it wasnt harmful to the environment the whole concept is just stupid and harmful#like its just a new kind of art elitism and its sooooo fucking pointless#and the whole way its literally just a pyramid scheme to inflate the value of cryptocurrency....#and how only people who are already well established artists/are wealthy will be able to make any significant money w it.....#and now the whole thing with people like. tokenizing (?) random art that isnt even theirs#so that they can own it and sell it and the original artist might not even be aware that thats happening.......#and you cant even fight this the way that people fought those t shirt bots on twitter last year with disney art#bc if you made a bunch of nfts of disney art yeah that would probably get disney involved and hopefully shut it down but it would be at the#cost of an inhumane amount of energy. so like how do you fight it#idk i hope this dies out soon but if nfts are here to stay i feel like its going to completely decimate online art communities#why even post art online if any random asshole can take it and kind of own it and sell it using an insane amount of pollution#also the concept of like tokenizing things online in general is so fucked up to me#if someone can do it w your art they could do it with like. a picture of your face. or a nude.#like if someone tokenizes something random you post even if they dont make money off of it theyre still like. digitally pissing on it#to claim it. idk it seems so pointless but also insidious to me. i hate all of this#ANYWAYS maybe its just a fad and will be over in a month. i really hope so
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What I have to say is kind of too long to put into an ask, so I hope it's okay that I'm submitting this here.
I've been an "Internet artist" for about eight years now, and I've known about Dobson and his antics since his days on DA (he abandoned his account shortly after I made mine, I believe). I even interacted with Dobson on here once to give him artistic advice when he put out that post asking for it (which he disregarded, naturally). That all being said, here is my two cents about him and this blog in particular:
I think it can be appreciated that you're trying to warn people about this guy---because yes, he disregards criticism as "trolling" and his obsession with lesbians is creepy, and he's been doing both of those things for over a decade---but if I'm being completely blunt, I don't think he's worth having an entire callout blog devoted to his every move online. In fact, I think it's essentially creating the opposite effect; people like Dobson thrive on negativity, it's why he's always replied to people criticizing him or trolling him instead of addressing the people complimenting him, because he knows people will see the drama and be drawn to it. The harder people try to condemn him for his idiocy, hypocrisy and general unlikability, the more he can use it to make it seem like he's being treated unfairly and therefore more and more people will go to bat for him. People generally won't look too deep into something if they're being fed it by someone they think is "popular", so if Dobson says you're a "hate blog" and that everything you say is taken out of context or a lie, then people will believe it, unfortunately. 
In my opinion, Dobson is not some failure-boogeyman to warn artists about (Ken Penders runs circles around old Dobbo in that regard), but I do think he is the worst thing you can possibly be as an artist: boring. His art is only created to exist, nothing more, and it only inspires vitriol and disgust when he decides to instill his own loathsome personality and opinions into it. However, I don't think he warrants having any kind of eye on him, positive or negative. What he deserves is to fade into obscurity, with people giving a shrug or a "who?" if his name is mentioned. If he posts some obvious virtue signalling blather or makes terrible art.....so what? It should be met with a void of reaction, because to do anything else would make him significant, and that is not something he's worthy of. 
This is not me defending him in the least, but instead I ask you to really consider if the time and effort it takes to make the world aware of a small, meaningless man is worth it in the long run. 
“I do actually agree with you that it’s better to just ignore Dobson and let him wallow in obscurity. Thing is, for as lazy and anti-criticism as he is, he is still a decent artist when he actually puts his mind to it. And he can still pander in a way that gets him a ton of attention. The entire reason I originally wanted to start this blog in the first place is because he mad a comic claiming that white male comic book fans didn’t want to see Black Panther because there were no white leads in the movie. And it was actually starting to go viral, not because it was being mocked, but because people were agreeing with it. Even through it was a very very small minority, people were acting as if all white men were acting that way and using his comic as proof. And he started posting older comics in which he vilified white male comic fans(which he himself admittted that he makes up the situations in the comics entirely) in order to ride that popularity. So I made the blog as a sort of “hey, just so you know, this is the type of person that you’re encouraging to speak for your side” kind of thing. Because no matter your ideas, morals, political standing, ect, no one should have someone like Dobson repressing him.”
“So I kinda view the blog as the lesser of two evils. If Dobson is going to be talked about and be known, I’d rather try to share the truth about him and have him try to use me to get sympathy and attention, than say nothing and let him either trick or take advantage of people’s opinions. And if even only a few people can be informed on him and know to avoid him, I’ll consider it a job well done. Not that I think I’m anything special or whatever. I’m just some random guy spending a little of his free time pointing out an asshole’s hypocrisy and behavior.”-THOAD
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caelesjjk · 5 years
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Hellion (Demon!Ashton)
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Hello sweet babies. This is the beginning of a supernatural series I’m going to be writing. The worlds are going to intertwine a bit, and you’ll see how thats going to work :)) I loved writing this so much and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do. It’s 9k words that im very proud of.
warnings: a bit of violence but thats about it, a small mention of alcohol use
Ivy Jane was what most people would consider a prodigy.
She began her career as an artist at the young age of 14. She painted, sculpted, welded, and drew like nothing anyone had ever seen. It didn’t seem possible for someone so young to have perfected their talent in such a short span of time. But she seemed to be the exception.
She sold her pieces for large amounts of money, far more money than any teenager should be able to get their hands on. But she was alone, thrown into the system as a toddler when she could no longer be cared for. She hated not having anyone to share her money with, but her success pulled her out of foster care and into her own penthouse high above New York City where her manager cared for her, or at least kept her alive so she could continue making him money. Richard was the closest thing she had to family.
But what no one knew was how Ivy Jane became such a good artist. When she was asked this question by interviewers, she simply played it off on her dark past and that she was projecting all of her teen angst into the art. But dark was only one word one might use to describe her past.
Ivy Jane made a deal. Not the type you make with a pinky promise, no this was the type of deal you made with blood. The type of deal that you make at a crossroads. The type that requires you to sell your soul to a handsome devil dressed in all black clothes. He makes 10 years sound like you’ve got all the time in the world.
“Come on then, sweetheart. What else do you need to know?” The demon asked. He was tall with broad shoulders and perfectly shaped lips.
“What happens after ten years?” Ivy asked.
“Your soul is mine, and you’ll be on your merry way to hell. But, as part of this deal I can come to you at any time for a favor.” He picks at his fingernails as if he’s bored to death.
“A favor?” She asks.
“Yes. And you’ll comply, or the deal is void and you’ll go straight to the pits with no questions asked.” He steps around her, his unhuman movements too quick for Ivy to follow, as he is suddenly about 10 feet away from her, sitting on one of the low branches of a tall oak tree.
“What’s it like in hell?” Ivy asks yet another question, driving the demon crazy.
“Listen, sweetheart, I don’t have all night. Either you take the deal or you don’t. Either way your choice isn’t going to hurt my nonexistent feelings.” He rolls his red eyes and lounges against the trunk of the tree.
She didn’t want to go back to that foster home. All she wanted was to be a famous artist, and in her fourteen year old mind, ten years of that was better than any amount of time in foster care.
“Okay.” She finally sighed. “You’ve got a deal.” Ivy put her hand out to shake his.
“Tsk tsk, sweetheart. That’s not how these things work.” The demon jumps down from the tree, his red hair that matched his eyes shining in the moonlight. He grabs her hand flipping it over so that her palm is facing upwards. “This deal requires blood.” He pulls out what appears to be a pocket knife, its silver and decorated intricately. And before she can protest, he’s slicing it across her palm, making her flinch from the pain.
Ivy can feel the blood pooling in her palm and dripping between the spaces of her fingers. The demon keeps hold of her hand, pulling out his contract and pressing her palm against it. After her blood has soaked into the paper, he throws the contract up into the air just as it bursts into flames and disappears behind a puff of smoke.
“That’s it? What now?” She asks.
“So many questions.” He rolls his eyes again and begins to walk to the center of the crossroads. “Don’t forget about my favor, Ivy Jane.” He drops his eye in a wink and then disappears. It happens so quickly that Ivy isn’t even sure she really saw him standing there at all.
Her fame began as quickly as she hoped it would. A painting that she had posted online, was suddenly getting the attention of millionaire art collectors. She had people begging for her work faster than she could create it. She thrived on the feeling of being wanted by so many people.
Richard, her manager, scooped her up and managed everything she was too busy to take care of herself. She was the most sought after artist for several years. But then everything stopped almost as quickly as it had started. She was lucky if she could sell enough to feed herself. Ivy had to move out of her penthouse and into a one bedroom apartment in much dingier part of the city. It was always impossibly noisy, making it impossible to work on anything new. Everything was falling apart even before her ten years was up and she had no idea why.
Ivy saw the demon now and then. He mostly haunted her dreams, but sometimes she would see his face in a crowd or on a random billboard as she rode the bus through the city, always making sure that she didn’t forget about him. But no matter how many times she asked, he never told her why her fame had suddenly stopped.
She was a mess, to say the least. She had turned to alcohol and practically drank herself into oblivion every night just to make life seem a little less shitty. But it didn’t matter what she did, she always woke up in the same hellhole apartment filled with half painted canvases and ashtrays filled with cigarette butts.
Tonight, Ivy found herself in the bar just around the corner from her apartment building. It was filled with smoke and the smell of cheap whiskey. She could hear the clanging of pool balls as they were hit around the tables. But she was currently having a hard time seeing straight after the bottle of vodka she had been nursing the past couple hours was suddenly half empty. The clear liquid burned her throat after each drink, but she didn’t care.
When she tried to stand up from the barstool, she stumbled and knocked over a few drinks of the people sitting beside her at the bar. Ivy didn’t stop to apologize and just kept walking towards the bathroom. She wanted to wash her face and try to sober up before she attempted to walk home.
The sink was disgusting and covered in grime and motorcycle grease, but Ivy turned on the cold water and started splashing it on her face. It wasn’t really helping at all. She straightened up slowly, closing one eye and trying to see herself in dingy old piece of glass that was being used as a mirror. And in her drunken haze, she could have sworn she saw someone in the mirror behind her. She spun around, almost falling over in the process, to see no one there. Alcohol must have been playing tricks on her tonight, but when she turned to look in the mirror he was there again, the demon, propped against the door of one of the empty stalls. This time when she spun around, he didn’t disappear, he only smiled wickedly as fear washed over her entire body.
“I see you’re doing well, sweetheart.” He stands up straight, disappearing momentarily and then reappearing right next to Ivy. “I’ve missed you.” He whispers against the shell of her ear, making her shiver uncontrollably.
“My ten years isn’t up for 6 months asshole, what the hell has been going on?” Her voice shakes a bit when she tries to back away from him.
“Whatever do you mean?” He pretends to be innocent with a smile on his face.
“No one’s bought a piece of art from me for years. Your end of the deal isn’t holding up.” Ivy stumbles a bit, reaching out to balance against the cold red bricks of the wall. She uses her arm to try and wipe the water and sweat from her face onto her leather jacket.
“I said I would make you a famous artist. I didn’t say I would make people want to buy your work or that your work would be any good. The fact that you’re washed up, isn’t my problem.” He waves her off and slowly walks around her.
“That…that’s not fair. You cheated me out of my entire life!” Ivy can feel the anger coursing through her veins and her hands ball into fists.
“You’ve spent the last nine and half years of your life as pathetically as possible. You travelled from city to city and did nothing with your time. Blaming me for your shit decisions, is just an excuse sweetheart.” His voice is deep and serious as he watches her through his round frame sunglasses.
Ivy hated knowing there was a small part of what he said that was right. She had gotten to a certain point in her life where she relied on the deal they had made to get her through, thinking that nothing could screw it up. But making her a decent human being wasn’t part of the deal. She chose to drink and party and let herself and her talent waste away. What kind of person trusts a demon anyways?
“So why are you here now?” She manages to choke out, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Remember that favor?” He wets his lips and pushes back some of his hair that had fallen on his forehead. Ivy’s stomach twisted but she nods ‘yes’. “I’ve come to collect on it, sweetheart.”
“What kind of favor are we talking about?” Ivy hiccupped, still half-drunk, but less than she was before she came in here.
“I need you to help me get to something. Something that I can’t get to on my own.” He continues to walk around her in a circle that is almost dizzying.
“There’s something the big bad demon can’t get by himself?” She hiccups again with a laugh.
“It’s Ashton, doll. Start calling me that.” He finally stops in front of her, looking over the rim of his dark sunglasses.
“You have a name?” Ivy starts to wobble on her feet, feeling dizzy.
“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” Ashton says.
“I don’t feel so good.” She stumbles forward into Ashton’s chest, but he doesn’t move.
“Ridiculous human. Let’s get you home then.” Ashton grabs Ivy by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder.
She’s too drunk to protest, so she closes her eyes and lets him carry her out of the bar. Ivy can feel the crisp fall air of New York City practically hit her in the face just before she completely passes out in the arms of a demon.
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The next morning, or maybe it was afternoon, Ivy slowly opened her eyes. The sunlight pouring in through the sheer white curtains, stinging her eyes and making her squint to try and see around the room. She couldn’t remember much, but there were definitely some weird things happening in her dreams last night. When she tries to sit up, her head starts to spin and the room starts to tilt.
“Fucking hell.” She says to herself.
“Not quite, sweetheart.” His voice comes from the doorway, making Ivy jump practically halfway across her bed.
“You…You’re actually here?” She breathes.
“Do we really need to go through all of this again? You owe me a favor, Ivy Jane. And I’m here to collect on it. End of story.” He walks into the room, leaning across the bed balancing one hand against the mattress and the other holding out a glass of water. Ivy flinches away at first. “I’m not going to bite, sweetheart. We barely know each other.” He smiles wickedly, the dimples in his cheeks showing in a way that made Ivy’s whole face heat up.
“I suppose there’s no way I’m getting out of this?” Ivy sighs, taking the glass of water and putting it to her lips. He watches with fascination as she drinks every drop. “What are you looking at?” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Human essentials interest me. All the things you require to function are kind of pathetic.” He sits on the edge of the bed and watches Ivy’s nose scrunch up in confusion.
“What did you say your name was again?” She shakes her head and rubs at her temples.
“Ashton.” He replies, eyes never leaving her.
“Are you going to stare at me like this all day or?” Ivy pulls the blankets up higher on her body. Ashton scoffs.
“We have a very long trip ahead of us. I suggest you shower and pack a bag.” Ashton stands up from the bed and starts to walk back towards the doorway.
“A trip? You aren’t serious?” Ivy laughs a little, nervousness evident in the sound.
“I’ll get you some food. Take a shower, you smell like a biker bar.” Ashton smirks before walking out of Ivy’s room. Ivy quietly mocks his instructions when he’s out of sight. “I can still see you, sweetheart.” Ashton says from the kitchen.
“Fucking demon.” She grumbles, flinging the blankets off of her body and standing up off the bed to stretch her dehydrated muscles.
“Heard that too.” Ashton says.
“Can you turn off your super demon hearing so I can bitch about you in peace?” Ivy shouts as she enters her bathroom and closes the door. Her back presses to it and her eyes close. She had no idea what she was in for, or what she had gotten herself into but there was no taking it back. She made a deal with a crossroads demon that could never be undone.
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“Rome?! As in Rome, Italy?! That’s where we’re going?!” Ivy whisper shouted at Ashton as they walked swiftly through the airport.
“Is there any other? Do try to keep up, sweetheart. We’re in a hurry.” Ashton’s long legs allow him to move in much faster strides than Ivy as she struggles with her suitcase and carryon bag.
“Why me?” She suddenly asks, coming to a halt. Ashton stops, turning on his heel to walk back towards Ivy.
“Because you belong to me, understand?” He says through gritted teeth.
“Don’t you have other contracts? Someone else you could get to do your bitch work?” Ivy stands her ground and doesn’t back away from him.
“Of course I do. But I prefer to torture you and only you, Ivy Jane. Now move your pretty ass, and get it onto this plane, yeah?” Ashton takes off his round frame sunglasses and looks down at her.
“Why aren’t your eyes red?” She asks, ignoring the ass comment. They were a newly gorgeous green color, one that reminded Ivy of the soft moss that covers the rocks in the woods. She didn’t hate looking at them when they were this color.
“I swear, you ask more questions than any other human.” He grumbles.
“It’s a gift.” Ivy shrugs her shoulders and begins walking towards the gate to their plane. Ashton rolls his eyes with a small smile on his face before following her onto the plane. When they find their seats, Ivy becomes curious again.
“Please don’t ask another question.” Ashton sighs.
“Why can’t you just teleport us to Rome? Would have saved some cash on these first class tickets.” Ivy reclines in her seat and relaxes her arms over her head. Ashton laughs quietly.
“Halfway across the planet is a bit far for teleporting. I’d like to make sure we get there, and don’t end up in the middle of the ocean, if that’s okay with you?” He slips his black blazer off of his shoulders and settles in his seat next to Ivy.
“Would it matter much for me? My life is practically over at this point.” Her voice didn’t show any signs of worry, and that was a little unsettling to Ashton.
“Maybe you should try to enjoy what you’ve got left, yeah? “ He doesn’t look at her.
“I’m sure this trip to Rome isn’t for vacation purposes, Ashton.” Ivy sighs.
“No, but I promise it will be better than drinking yourself to death in that bar.” His voice is serious, but he pops in some earbuds and closes his eyes. The perfect way to get her to stop asking so many questions.
Ivy watched the world by pass by her through the window of the plane. The sun was going down over New York and it was more beautiful from up here than it had ever been down there. Something about the way the oranges and reds painted the blue sky and made some of the prettiest purples Ivy had ever seen, was calming. She itched to paint it, to appreciate it just a little. But any time she felt that way, she always picked up a bottle of vodka instead, because she knew she didn’t deserve to feel good, not after what she had done.
“Champagne?” A flight attendant asked as she stopped her drink cart.
“God yes.” Ivy leaned her body over Ashton to take a glass from her.
“No, no alcohol. I need you coherent and completely focused when we get there.” Ashton plucked the glass from Ivy’s hands.
“Come on Ashton, it’s one glass.” Ivy takes the glass back and brings it to her lips, tipping the glass back completely.
She held it there a moment, and nothing came out of the glass. Ivy opened her eyes to see that the bubbly liquid that once occupied the champagne flute was completely empty of it’s contents. Ivy stared at it for a moment, and Ashton watched as her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion before she put the pieces together and understood that he had in fact, made the champagne disappear from the glass.
“No alcohol.” Ashton brings his face closer to her, Ivy’s face still scrunched up in confusion. “Your need to defy me is getting old, darling. So please just do as I say from here on out.” He says the words quietly, only loud enough for Ivy to hear.
Ivy rolls her eyes, shoving the champagne glass at Ashton before falling back into her seat with an annoyed grunt. She hated how much power this demon had over her. He literally owned her life and she had no choice but to abide by everything he asked. But as hard as Ashton tried to be a scary and intimidating demon, there was something soft about him. Something in the color of his green eyes that made him seem a bit more human and annoyingly attractive.  If Ashton was going to damn her soul to hell, maybe she shouldn’t go down easily.
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Ivy felt a weight lift off of her chest as their car drove through the cobblestone streets of Rome. It was beautiful here no matter what time of year it was. There were ropes of lights hung across the old stone buildings and a constantly busy marketplace. There was music playing in every direction and the mouth-watering smells of the endless bakeries was almost more than she could handle. The small smile on her face must have given her away.
“Enjoying yourself, Ivy Jane?” Ashton said from the driver’s seat.
“Don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to my wallowing in my own self-pity soon enough.” She turned her head slightly to watch his face. He was kind of beautiful with all the lights bouncing off his prominent jawline as they drove through the streets.
“Always looking forward to that.” He teased as they pulled up outside of what appeared to be a rather upscale hotel. “We are going to crash here for the night. Tomorrow we have a lot of work to do.” Ashton tosses the car key to a valet, like he’s done it a million times before.
Ivy waits patiently as Ashton checks them into the hotel. She kept her eyes on the gold trim and intricate designs of the architecture inside the old hotel. She wished more than anything she had a sketch pad that she could start drawing in. She never wanted to forget the way anything here looked. But while she was waiting, someone caught her eye as they walked by. He was tall, dressed completely in black, with blonde curls styled back away from his face. As soon as she saw him Ivy felt a chill consume her whole body. He was dangerously handsome, and his eyes were on her as well, smiling and biting into his bottom lip. There were two girls under his arms, laughing and not taking notice as he practically drank Ivy in. She felt uneasy under his gaze and quickly turned away to look for Ashton. It didn’t take long, because as soon as she turned her head he was right in front of her.
“You need to come with me, now.” Ashton’s jaw was tense as he grabbed onto Ivy’s wrist and pulled her towards the elevators. Once the gold colored doors shut, he had her pressed against the mirrored wall with his body, hands pressed to the mirror on either side of her head.
“Ashton…” She started to say.
“Listen closely, sweetheart. I only want to explain this once.” His mouth was dangerously close to hers, and Ivy felt herself wanting to close that little gap between them, and it made her stomach twist to think of it. “This city is heaped full of vampires. That guy down in the lobby? He was definitely one of them and he’s definitely going to tell the rest of his coven that I’m here. So now we have even less time to prepare you than I had originally planned. Understand?” Ashton’s eyes never left hers, and she could see flakes of red start to melt through his green irises. Ivy nodded yes in agreement.
Just as she finishes nodding the gold doors ding and slide open to the floor Ashton had selected. He stays looking at her a moment longer before using his inhuman speed and practically vanishing all together. Once Ivy collected herself and evened out her breathing, she found him leaning against the door of their room at the other end of the hallway.
“Are you planning on filling me on any of this? Because I feel like I know absolutely nothing about what is going on here.” Ivy walks past him and into the room. She throws her bag down on the bed only to be startled by Ashton’s sudden presence behind her.
“This favor I need…” He starts, pushing his hair back away from his forehead. “I need you to get something for me. And it requires sending you into a den of vampires with no protection.” Ashton sits on the corner of the bed and watches her face go pale.
“Do I look like the type of person who deals with vampires?! I mean we are talking about the real thing right? The blood drinking kind?!” Ivy paces the floor in front of the bed.
“If you do as I say, then you’ll likely come out of this unscathed. And if you succeed, I’ll add another 10 years to our contract.” Ashton’s elbows are rested on his knees as he looks down at his fingers that are playing with the silver rings on each of his fingers.
“What exactly do I have to do?” She stops in front of him, just a foot away as he slowly looks up at her.
“These vampires…they stole something from me. Something that I need to get back. And they’ve taken it somewhere that I can’t go.” Ashton stands up, walking over to the mini bar area and pouring some water into a cup.
“Where can’t you go?” Ivy asks, following him without even thinking.
“Holy ground. The vamps do enjoy their nightly raves in the catacombs though, which is where you come in.” Ashton hands her the cup of water and she takes it, backing up until she’s sitting back on the bed, head spinning with all these thoughts.
“So you want me to walk into a vampire rave and retrieve this thing you need? Aren’t they going to know I’m human?” Ivy asks.
“Of course. They always have humans at their parties, they need someone to feed on don’t they?” Ashton smiles, knowing that he wasn’t helping the sick feeling in Ivy’s stomach.
“And you expect me to somehow slip right in and not become some vampires blood bag? Do you hear how insane that sounds, Ashton?” Ivy’s voice cracks a little as she speaks and Ashton can’t help smile a bit more at the sound.
“You’re perfect.” He says without thinking. “For this job, I mean.” Ashton quickly corrects himself, clearing his throat and sitting down on the other side of the bed.
“What am I looking for while I’m in there?” Ivy asks, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as a rose color appears on her cheeks.
“It’s an amulet. It’s a pentagon shaped, black jewel on a gold chain. And I’ve got to have it before the end of the night tomorrow when the moon is full.” Ashton feels like he may have said too much to the girl with so many questions.
“And what will this amulet do?” She asked, Ashton should have known.
“I need it to bring back a friend of mine. A friend that was banished a long time ago.” He doesn’t look up, but Ivy can see that the subject pains him a little when his jaw sets tightly and his fists ball up.
“Will you tell me your plan at least?” She asks with a long sigh.
“In the morning. Right now, the human requires sleep.” Ashton stands from the bed and walks around to pull the blankets down from where they’re tucked.
“And you don’t?” Ivy raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Demons don’t need sleep. I only sleep if I want to. This isn’t one of those times.” He motions with his head for her to get into the bed and she doesn’t argue, exhaustion had started setting in not long ago.
“What are you going to do?” Ivy asks, pulling the lush blankets around her and settling into the bed.
“Preparations for tomorrow. Go to sleep, Ivy Jane.” Ashton flicks off the light switch and goes to the couch in the other room. He does his best not to look back at the bed, knowing the longer he looks at her the harder it will be to look away.
He sat on the couch with his plans spread out across the coffee table for a few hours. Going over them again and again. He needed to believe that somehow he would make this work this time. He went through this every full moon, trying to get back the amulet that would set his friend free from his imprisonment. All the other humans had failed him, losing their lives to a vampire, or if they did make it out it was always empty handed, and Ashton was forced to send them straight to hell, merely because he couldn’t stand to look at them a moment longer.
But there was something about this girl. Something that drove him absolutely mad. He hated that human softness he still carried with him after hundreds of years. He cared about her wellbeing, and that had never happened before. And he had waited until there was no other choice to put her in danger. She was his last hope to succeed.
Ashton could hear the soft snores escaping Ivy Jane’s mouth from the other side of the room. He wished that he hated the sound, but it was more soothing than anything else. And before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet and walking towards the bed. He found himself lying down on the mattress on his back with his arms resting behind his head. He made sure not to shift the bed too much and wake her, but as soon as he was settled, like a magnet, Ivy was rolling over and tucking herself into Ashton’s side. He was frozen, not sure what he should do. Her body against him sent an unfamiliar warm feeling through his human form. There was a look of almost disgust on his face when he realized that he…felt something. He wanted to shake it away, but then her soft hand slid up his chest and gripped onto the collar of his shirt in comfort. And Ashton couldn’t fight the urge anymore, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer without another thought.
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“Wake up.” A voice whispered next to Ivy’s ear. It was so soft, she wasn’t sure she had actually heard it at all. “Wake up, beautiful.” The voice said again. Ivy could have sworn the voice was in her head. She carefully started to open her eyes. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs, quickly now sweetheart.”
Ivy jolted up in the bed then. Ashton’s voice was quite literally in her head, and he was nowhere to be seen. His demon abilities were a constant surprise. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed at her face a few times trying to make sure things were real. Ivy wasn’t sure if she had dreamt that she was being held by Ashton all night, or if it had actually happened and the fact that it didn’t bother her in the slightest if it had, was a little strange for her.
She got dressed quickly, throwing her hair up messily. On her way out of the door, Ivy noticed a bagel and to-go coffee sitting on the counter top with a note. Her heart started to beat just a little faster.
Eat this, human. You’re going to need it. Is what the note read in beautiful cursive handwriting. Ivy smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. She held the bagel in her mouth as she gathered her things and hurried out the door.
When she arrived downstairs in the lobby, she could see Ashton waiting for her by the front doors. He was standing there with a small smile on face and his arms resting behind his back. But what stood out he most, was that he wasn’t wearing his normal black dress clothes. Instead, he had on a fitted black tshirt and black gym shorts. It was a very different look for him, but it made him look almost relaxed, and that was something Ivy could get used to seeing. She tried to bite her lip as she approached him and hide the smile that was trying to spread across her face, but it wasn’t much use.
“Good morning.” Ashton said just as she stopped in front of him.
“Is it?” Ivy asked, taking another dramatic bite of her bagel, making Ashton laugh quietly.
“We shall see. Come on then. We don’t have much time.” Ashton turns and then offers Ivy his arm to hold onto while they walked. She raised an adorable eyebrow at him for only a short moment before taking his arm and letting him lead her outside of the hotel to where the car was waiting.
__________________________________________
They drove outside of the busy city for quite some time. Ivy tried to soak up as much of the countryside as she could, hoping maybe one day she would have some time to paint it. But she wasn’t going to get her hopes up, when her only hope was to retrieve an amulet from a den of vampires.
Ashton drove suddenly pulled off onto a side road made of gravel and rocks until they reached a large open field with some wooded off to one side. The sun was hovering off in the distance, really make that red color of Ashton’s hair pop. He stopped the car on the side of the road, taking off his sunglasses to look over at Ivy.
“Just beyond that wooded area, is a church. The church has miles of catacombs beneath it, and I can’t get close to it without burning from the inside out.” He pauses for a moment to watch her face. He didn’t want to do this to her. She was the one human he wanted to keep safe. “The vampires have parties there, almost nightly, and they keep the amulet here so I can’t get to it.”
“And I’m going to find an amulet, somewhere in the miles of catacombs below an old terrifying church?” Ivy asks, eyes meeting his. Ashton nods. “Perfect.” Ivy sighs.
“What do you know about vampires?” Ashton asks.
“They drink blood. Don’t like the sunlight. The obvious things.” Ivy responds.
“Vampires are deceiving. It’s part of their power of sorts. They can lure you in without you even knowing what’s happened. They use humans for blood and sex and these parties they have are practically just for those two things.” Ashton explains, not sure how Ivy would react to something like this.
“Okay. And how am I going to get past them?” Ivy tries to put on her brave face now.
“You just need to fit in. But you also need to know how to protect yourself. Come with me.” Ashton opens his car door and walks around towards the trunk, where he waits for Ivy to join him. She takes a few deep breaths before exiting the car and joining Ashton at the back of the car.
“Can you fight?” He asks suddenly.
“Fight? Fight vampires? You’re kidding right?” Ivy half laughs.
“If things go badly, I want you to at least be able to protect yourself.” This was something Ashton didn’t do with the others.
“I’ve never fought anyone, Ashton.” She tells him.
“We have work to do then.” Ashton reaches into the trunk of the car and pulls out a long wooden box. There are symbols carved into the top and sides that Ivy does not recognize. Ashton opens the box to show her what’s inside. “This is a vampire stake, and you’re going to use it if you need to, alright?”
“You want me to stab a vampire with that? Ashton, this is getting more and more unreal.” Ivy pushes her hair away from her face in exasperation.
“It’s only if things go badly, okay? I’m going to teach you how to fight the best that I can in the next few hours. It’s better than sending you in there with nothing.” He closes the box and looks away from her eyes.
Ivy felt nervous. But it wasn’t because she was about to walk into a den of vampires, no she was nervous about disappointing the demon who owned her soul. She didn’t know why her feelings had suddenly changed, but she wasn’t scared of him anymore.
“Alright, demon. Teach me to fight.” Ivy shrugs her shoulders and motions for him to lead the way. Ashton smiles and walks past her into the middle of the field.
“Show me what you’ve got, sweetheart.” Ashton puts his arms out at his sides, giving her a free shot.
“I can’t hit you…” Ivy almost mumbles the words.
“I promise that you won’t hurt me.” He tries to encourage her.
Ivy looks down at her hands for a moment, contemplating how to go about this, when she suddenly hears his voice in her head again.
You’re thinking too much. Just hit me.
“What’s with this whole mind talking thing? It’s a little weird.” She laughs.
“It’s how I’m going to be with you when you’re inside the catacombs. I can hear you, and you can hear me.” He steps closer to her.
“Can you always hear what I’m thinking?” Ivy swallows hard.
“No. Only if your thoughts are sent to me directly. But I could guess…” Ashton disappears a moment, then reappears behind Ivy, his mouth against the shell of her ear. “Are you thinking of that shiver you feel when I’m near you?” His lips brush against her ear making her eyes fall shut. “Or maybe that knot in your stomach that appears when I call you sweetheart?” The tips of his fingers are brushing up her arm.
Ivy lets out a shaky breath, keeping her eyes closed tightly.
“That’s right, Ivy Jane. You’re mine.” Ashton’s words have a direct line between her legs. Her eyes snap open and she spins around quickly only to see that he isn’t there anymore. Ivy whips around again, looking all around the open field, not seeing Ashton anywhere.
“Ashton?” She asks.
Over here. His voice says in her head. She spins around again, feeling his presence but still not seeing him.
Here. He says again. Ivy’s eyes can’t find him as she frantically looks around. And then suddenly he’s behind her again, pulling one of her arms behind her back and pinning it there. Ivy struggles against him for a moment until he speaks again.
“You’ve got be aware of everything. Don’t let them get behind you, easy access to your throat.” Ivy stills in her struggling when Ashton runs the tip of his nose softly and slowly up the side of her neck. Her whole body shutters.
“Anything else?” Ivy asks.
“You’ve got to be quick.” He says, releasing her arm and turning Ivy’s body to face him. “If they’re coming at you, you’ve got to find the quickest way out.”
Ashton worked with her all day long, showing Ivy as many moves as he could. He showed her some old blueprints of the catacombs in hopes that she might be able to remember something that would help her get out as fast as possible if need be. But now he needed to give her the final touch, one that he wasn’t extremely pleased about some vampire seeing but it had to be done.
“It isn’t another stake, is it?” Ivy teased as they walked back to the car.
“No, no more stakes.” Ashton opened the trunk of the car again, pulling out a white shopping bag and dangling it in front of her.
“What’s this?” Ivy took the bag from his hands and started pulling the item clothing out.
“So you’ll fit in.” He watches her face carefully. Ivy pulled the dress out of the bag, holding it up so she could see it.
“Let me get this straight. On top of everything else, you want me to do all of this in a goddamn dress?” Ivy’s eyes are wide as she looks over at Ashton, who has a big grin on his face.
“Just put the dress on, Ivy Jane.” Ashton shook his head a few times, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts.
The dress was all black and floor length. Ivy couldn’t imagine fighting a vampire in a dress like this, but then she noticed the slit going all the way up one side of the dress. She was more nervous than ever.
“Turn around.” She makes a circular motion with her finger, asking Ashton to run around while she changed. He rolls his green eyes, turning to face away from where she was changing behind the trunk. After a few minutes of scrambling into the dress, Ivy huffs out a long breath and taps Ashton on the shoulder. “What do you think?” She asks.
Ashton could barely keep himself from completely ravishing her right here right now. Ivy looked perfect. It complimented every part of her. And that slit that went all the way up to her hip, would likely be his undoing. But he cleared his throat, and took a few steps towards her.
“You’re fucking beautiful.” He says with a quiet laugh following. “One more thing.” Ashton reaches into the trunk, pulling out the stake and a leather thigh holster.
“I’ve got to carry that thing on my thigh?” She asks with wide eyes.
“No better place.” Ashton smiles wickedly. “Come here and sit back.” He motions for her to sit down on the hood of the car. Ivy walks around to the front of the car, sitting down and scooting back just a bit, the material of the dress slipping around her leg as she lift up towards him. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure that he could hear it.
“Go on then.” Ivy says, leaning back on her hands as Ashton steps forward with his eyes on hers, letting Ivy press her foot to his chest so she can continue to hold up her leg while he buckles the holster to her thigh.
“Won’t they be able to see it?” Ivy breathes out when Ashton’s hands ghost from the top of her thigh down to her ankle.
“I’ve put a glamour on the stake, they wont be able to see it.” He says the words against the skin of her ankle that he’s moved up to his mouth. Ivy can feel her entire body quake.
“How much time do I have?” She manages to spill out, eyes falling closed at the sensation of his lips on her skin.
“You need to have the amulet to me before the sun rises.” He’s pressing kisses up her leg. Ashton wants her, but he’s got a mission to complete first. He gently puts her leg down and watches as her pretty lips begin to pout.
“I guess I need to go?” Ivy sighs.
“The party will have started now.” Ashton helps Ivy stand up straight on her feet, keeping her close to him.
“Show me where this church is?” Ivy asks, looking down at her feet. Ashton reaches up, pulling the hair tie out of her hair and letting it fall over her shoulders. Ashton’s pointer finger hooks under her chin and pulls her eyes up to his.
“You’ve got so much life left to live, Ivy Jane, so please come back to me.” He leans down and presses his forehead to hers.
“That’s the plan.” She whispers, hands itching to reach out and touch him.
“Come on. I’ll show you.” Ashton’s fingers lace between Ivy’s as he walks her across the field towards the wooded area.
Once they’ve walked a ways into the woods, and the church comes into sight, Ashton comes to a sudden stop. When he looks down at his hands he can see fire trying to seep through his pores. He’s gotten too close.
“This is where I stop.” He presses a kiss to the back of her hand before letting it go.
“See you soon?” Ivy feels silly after she says it.
“Soon.” Ashton repeats. She smiles at him, though it’s a weak one, and then turns to walk towards the church before she changes her mind completely. “Ivy Jane?” She hears from behind her.
“Don’t let any filthy vamps touch you in that dress, yeah?” Ashton smiles, putting his hands back in his pockets.
“I make no promises.” Ivy teases, turning back towards the church and feeling her stomach tighten.
The church is a decaying relic to say the least, there isn’t much left of it at all. The old yellow bricks are lying in random piles throughout the area. But what finally catches her attention is the sound of electronic music coming from one of the piles of bricks. And as she approaches it, she can see that it’s actually an entrance to what she assumes is the catacombs. Ivy crawls over the bricks carefully and begins to descend the stairs leading down into a black hallway.
Ivy’s breathing is uneven and ragged. She can’t see a thing, but she can hear the music. The catacombs smell musty and damp. There was nothing appealing about any of this, and she couldn’t imagine why it would be a vampires chosen place for parties. Her fingertips stayed on the wall as she followed it through the dark. It had seemed like forever, but she finally found the series of rooms holding the vampires and their party.
There were hundreds of people, it could have been an actual night club down here. There were colored lights flashing and people dancing everywhere. Ivy walked into the party area, bumping into sweaty bodies and glass cups full of alcoholic liquid. She had no idea where to begin looking for this amulet.
Find the vampires. They’ll be sitting back watching the humans. Ashton’s voice suddenly said in her head, almost making her jump.
“Fancy seeing you here.” A voice that Ivy didn’t recognize says from behind her. She whirls around to see the curly haired blonde vampire from the hotel standing in front of her.
Get away from him. Quickly.
Ivy rolls her eyes at the sound of Ashton’s voice.
“Um hey there. I heard about this great party.” Ivy tries to sound sincere.
“I know why you’re here.” Is all he says in return.
“For a great time?” Ivy knows she isn’t coming off as convincing at all. The vampire laughs.
“You want the amulet don’t you? The one that demons been after?” He says.
“I um…no. What demon?” Ivy stumbles all over her words.
You’re a terrible actress, you know that? Ask him what he knows. Ashton’s voice says in her head. Ivy rolls her eyes.
“We saw each other at the hotel. I know exactly what that demons been up to.” He says, stepping up closer to Ivy so only she can hear him. “And I want to help.” Ivy’s eyes almost pop out of her skull when she hears the words.
“You want to help me?” She whispers.
“Yes, I do. I’m Luke.” He puts his hand out to shake hers, she stares at it for a moment.
See what he’s willing to do. Ashton says.
“Ivy.” She shakes his hand quickly, before Luke is pulling her off to the side.
“We can do this quickly and effortlessly, understand? One of the older vamps has been wearing that amulet around down here for a couple hundred years. I had one of the girls he’s been drinking on tonight take some things to make him sleep. But it won’t last long, so you’ve got to get in there now.” Luke pulls Ivy along by the elbow, showing her to another room full of vampires.
“I’m just going to walk in there and take it?” Her eyes furrow. “That’s too easy.”
“It can be. Now lets go, follow my lead.” Luke says.
“Why are you doing this?” Ivy asks.
“That’s a story for another time, Ivy.” He smiles, and his fangs withdraw just the slightest bit.
Kick his ass. I’m serious. Ashton comes into her head.
“Stop it.” Ivy says, meant for Ashton.
“Stop what?” Luke says.
“Nothing. Lets go.” Ivy changes the subject quickly.
Luke wraps his arm around Ivy’s shoulders lazily, leading her into the vampire room. She could see the camp he was referring to almost immediately. He was sitting on a velvet chair, a leather vest covering some of his top half and leather pants on his legs. But he appeared to be asleep, the gold chalice in his hands was tipped over with blood dripping from its rim.
“I’ll keep the rest of them busy, you grab that thing off his neck.” Luke whispers into her ear.
I’ll kill the damn vampire myself. Ashton’s jealous voice says. Ivy smiles momentarily.
Luke takes his arm away and walks over to the group of vamps sitting around on the furniture. They all look over to him when he starts talking and Ivy doesn’t hesitate to move towards the older vampire. He’s snoring quite loudly, which is a relief to say the least. One of the female vampires looks over to Ivy, and she freezes, pretending to lean against the chair like she had been there the whole time. The female vamp looks at her suspiciously but then looks back to Luke.
Ivy knows she cant get to the clasp for the chain behind his neck, so she simply wraps her hand around the amulet and pulls until it pops off of him. She looks down at her hand in amazement. She did it. She actually fucking did it. The older vampire stirs slightly, making Ivy jump away from him, and the attention in the room to suddenly turn towards her. She shoves the amulet into the front of her dress, in hopes that no one saw it. They say nothing, but they don’t take their eyes from where she stands.
“Luke…” Ivy says.
“Run!” Luke shouts, grabbing Ivy’s arm and pulling her out into the hallway. Luke uses his speed to get her back to the entrance in no time at all. Ivy can barely breathe. “Get out of here, alright? Go.” Luke tells her.
“What about you? I cant leave you with them!” Ivy tries to pull his arm.
“Ivy!” She hears Ashton shout from the distance.
“I’ll hold them off so you can get out of here. I’m good.” Luke gently pushes her out of the entrance so that she’s back outside next to the pile of bricks.
“Thank you.” She tells Luke sincerely. He gives her a tight smile, before disappearing back down the entrance. Ivy can hear the crunching of concrete and the hissing from the vampires coming from inside, so she starts running towards Ashton.
She’s almost reached him, when someone grabs her from behind and throws her down on her back. Ivy winces in pain, but doesn’t have time to think before the vampire is on top of her. It’s the female vampire from inside the catacombs.
“Ivy!” Ashton yells. He can’t get to her, the closer he gets the more his veins turn to fire. He watches in horror as the vampire continues to overpower Ivy. And he decides in that moment that he doesn’t care, and he uses his inhuman speed to reach the two of them scrambling on the ground.
Ashton can feel the fire start to burn inside him. But he forces on, and grabs the vampire by the back of shirt and effortlessly rips her off of Ivy. When Ashton goes to reach for Ivy, the vampire jumps on his back, clawing at him and kicking the backs of his legs. Ashton whips around, trying to get her off of him while the fire burns and starts to crack through his skin. He can hold back the scream that leaves his mouth.
Ivy scrambles off the ground, ripping the stake from it’s holster on her thigh. Ashton can’t stay still while he’s writhing in pain, but somehow, Ivy manages get up behind the vampire and shove the stake through her back and into her heart. Ivy watches as the vampire freezes up and slowly rolls off of Ashton’s back and onto the ground.
The fire is starting to consume Ashton from the inside out, he has to get off this holy ground as fast as possible. Ivy grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet, hearing him groan over and over from the pain.
“Get me out of here, please.” He begs.
“I’ve got you.” Ivy helps Ashton move and walk back towards the car. Once they’ve gotten to the tree line, Ivy lets Ashton sit down.
“Give me a moment.” He says. His fingers dig into the earth around him and his whole body starts to glow. Ivy watches with wide eyes until he’s back to himself, standing up as if nothing happened. “Quickly now, sweetheart. There isn’t much time left.” Ashton grabs her around the waist and teleports them right next to the car.
“What now?” Ivy asks as Ashton fumbles around in the trunk, gather things in his arms.
“Now, we free my friend.” Ashton says. He picks up a rock from the ground and smashes it over top of the amulet, busting it into tiny black starts of glass and gold metal.
Ivy watches as Ashton hovers his hands above the pieces and began to say some sort of incantation that she wasn’t able to understand. He said the words over and over as the full moon got higher and higher in the sky. It happened so quickly, Ivy wasn’t sure she actually saw it, but black clouds suddenly covered the moon momentarily like smoke and then whisked away as Ashton stood up. The ground shook beneath them and cracked open as tiny black shards of the amulet fell into the earth.
“What’s happening?” Ivy shouted, and Ashton laced his fingers through hers again, pulling her close so that she could hide her face in his chest as the ground continued to crumble.
Ivy looked up long enough to see spouts of fire shoot up from the cracks in the earth, and for someone…or something to begin crawling out of the ground. He stood up, brushing ashes and soot off his all black clothes before he looked up to see Ashton and Ivy standing there.
“Finally found me did ya?” The man from the fiery ground says.
“Only took a few hundred years and a very determined woman.” Ashton answers, walking towards the stranger and wrapping him up into a long hug.
“Wh…Who are you?” Ivy says from Ashton, her curiosity getting the better of her. The man hugging Ashton brings his eyes up to her, stepping out of the hug with Ashton but still standing next to him. The man pushed his hand through his black curls and licked his lips before he spoke again.
“I’m the Boogieman, dollface.” He said with a wicked smile on his perfect face. Ashton elbowed him playfully and laughed a little.
“This is Calum, Ivy. He’s been a friend…since forever.” Ashton walked over to Ivy, holding her face in his hands.
“Did I just help you release another demon onto earth?” Ivy asked. Ashton laughs again.
“Sort of. But Calum and I won’t cause too much trouble.” He presses his forehead against hers.
“And why is that?” Ivy asks, her hands finally finding chest and shoulders, memorizing the way he feels.
“I’d much rather get into trouble with you.”
A/N: there is going to be a very smutty epilogue to follow this in a few days!! but please let me know what you think!!
tag list:  @maoricth @slimthicccal @bbycal @kinglyhood @sugarcoated-pain @shower-me-with-roses @c-dizzle-swizzlex @calumculture @sugarcoatedcalum@calthesensation @cheyenne-in-wonderland @softboycal @moonlightcalum@unconditionalcalum @irwinkitten @singt0mecalum @angelbabylu @5sosnsfw@aspiringwildfire @myloverboyash @cal-puddies @lashtoncurls
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dxmagedrose · 4 years
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GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!
Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex​ I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!
PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;
FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it. 
Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now!  [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]
STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore.  even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye.  i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )
TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c
A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???
A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!
GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf
WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.
SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.
IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way. 
ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all. 
A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER.  F L Y P A P E R.  FLYPAPER.  FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street.  roast me.
FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.
YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.
TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani.  I am but a simple opossum. 
PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.
FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’)  It’s the most grounding smell in the world. 
CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I——  I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots
IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!!  take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.
INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.
DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.
IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh
DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies
DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.
WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.
FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT…   the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.
FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)
… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //
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strawberryspeachy · 4 years
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Also im sick of obnoxious japanese eaters
Things ive found out are myths here
1) everyones nice.
No. Everyone smiles hard to cover up whatever assholery theyre doing - if theyre supposed to be nice to you. Public people are the same as usual... except theres alot more shoving
2) everything about school
They don’t pay for school. Its free. Just like ours. Except private school. Just like ours
They are not MORE overworked in school nor do they study more. Their rules are much loser. And just like the states, teachers have no real authority- but unlike the states - the students do not fear repercussions. They can be touched though but thats more because japanese people think its fine to touch each other a lot - ya know. Just dont hug as an adult - but all other invading of some kind of private bubble is fine
3) SLURPING No thats not just a “it shows you love the food!” Bs. Just like the states, the people you hear disgustingly slurping just eat loud and are gross... imo... people here dont seem to think its gross but far more people eat like civilized humans and dont slurp everything from solids to actual liquids.
K like every time the past two days ive had to be near people slurping their fucking food and as a person who HATES hearing people eat... its why im bitching here. LETTUCE DOES NOT NEED SLURPED
4) just anything they call “culture” they used a pretty word to cover for “thats just the dumb thing we do here” its literally like if we said aggressively speed driving and cutting people off is new yorkers culture
Japan has a lot of history and traditions. But mostly they have a lot of bs that theyre just too stubborn to acknowledge and change so they lable it culture. Any changes they make are pretty much like when my great grandmother got a cell phone.
She only turned it on to charge it and make a phone call - leave a voicemail saying that she called - and then would turn it back off. It wasnt ever even on long enough for her to need to charge it.
But in her mind no one could complain that she didnt have one. And the only emergency in her mind was her needing to call you - not vice versa. She wouldnt use it for any other purpose and generally resented its existence. She hated watching anyone else use their cell phones to check the time or take pictures or play games or have lenthy conversations.
Yea. Thats basiclly japan with everything new. They have it. But they dont use it , and its possibilities scare them so the old ppl say its not allowed to be used unless the old people need to use it
Sorry man i hate everywhere i am. My aparment is next to a bar that looks permanently closed during the day. I had no clue it was there till after i moved in and the loud karaoke blared into my window every damn night
My train line is a nightmare and if you wanna see the worst japanese people can be. Ride the train during rush hours
My post office is far away and they refuse to ring my doorbell when i have a delivery and instead just leave slip - if you dont hike over in their made up time period they throw your stuff away
No one will actually help you with serious stuff. They just smile and say sorry and run away — customer service. Yea. Not customer service. They could just as easily be a manican with a smiley face - itd serve the same purpose.
Theres too much paperwork constantly all the time about everything
Nothing is online
Another thing that prompted me for this “this is japanese chocolate”
Cool. I got that its japanese. Im in japan. Everything people point out for me “its japanese____” fucking imagine if we felt the need to point out every damn item as “american” in the states. Why? What is the meaning of this?
They gave me a table to sit at at this school. A table. That they make lunch on and put all their supplies on. A dude just kicked my chair as he came over for some shit. Why am i sitting at a table? Very very few japanese people ive worked with dont make me feel like an adopted pet dog that theyre not sure if itll bite. Dog. Not new person. They literlly have the children fetch me...
And ive grown so so very tired of being asked questions with the intention of having me overhype japan while maintaining that im so stupid that i know absolutely nothing about the country
98% of japanese people assume that you think of japan like youve never even heard of their country before arriving and that you just arrived two days ago
Also. Maybe they think their test scores and clases are so much more difficult because they cant seem to fathom that most other countries schools function the same way as theirs
Yesterday a teacher said “ah theyre so overworked. They have alot to remember” i thought she was about to tell me how many units were on their exam or something... no “english, japanese, science, math, history, pe, food class, art! Too many things. Theyre very overworked”
..... are you for real? Im pretty sure every fucking school has those subjects if you switch out japanese for the countries native language.... this is NORMAL
Im sorry. I know the reason anyone talking to me like this might not like me. Cause im not gonna go WOWWW SUGEII?!?!? So much stuff!! Poor them!
No. Yeah? Thats school...
Look im not an asshole to my kids. If they can manage to tell me any information about their life in english or simple japanese i can translate - i act surprised/ or am if their english is super good.
But adults... no man. Learn some stuff about the outside world. Youre not specifical
Also dating boys here is just like back home except they wont block you and they respond less
Instead of getting “nice” “oh” “idk” and “maybe” as there fading messages - they just leave you on read. Or give you some random information that you didnt ask about that has no relevance to the ‘convo’
Also also. “Speak slow” they dont say this in a ‘my english is not good so speak slower’ way. They say this in a ‘i felt really good about my english until you spoke at a normal pace and my classes and ass-kissing white dudes have taught me that enlgish is spoken slow and percisely so if you dont speak with a japanese accent, your fast english is wrong’
Whatever but like... could you return the favor by speaking japanese slowly. Speak it the way you want me to speak english....
Telling them to speak slow results in something like
... nihon..de〜 nan mabdnshsnabsjsnjsbshssnbsjsbsjshsh ka?
Woah ok... something in Japan... couldnt catch the rest of that
Id be more understanding of this. Its hard to speak slow. Lets both acknowledge this and not - teachers compalining to principals and boys... (1) sending me a fucking video on how to speak my own damn language properly
Also. Do you know how upsetting it is to listen to a student say something perfectly but before i get to praise them - have the japanese teacher jump in and “correct” them...... no no dude please. I know youll have a fucking meltdown if i say no your ways wrong. But now this student is so confused desperately staring at me positive theyre correct and all ive come up with to do is smiling and nodding at them while repeating the way they said hoping the japanese teacher wont notice/get offended
Also togo food... if its not american fast food... generally you cant take it to go... its sad. I have no friends. I just wanna take this home to eat in front of my tv. This isnt serious. Its just a minior inconvenience
Also joking... my japanese isnt good enough to joke. And... idk how... cant explain. The other day a student asked whats my favorite food
And another went hamburger?!? Mcdonalds!!?
I wanted to comment.. but. At least elementary students understand sarcasm. Their teachers dont. And whether the middle schoolers understand and just dont care is up in the air.
Oh! And. I was right last week when i didnt trust my teachers saying that the obvious bullying was just a misunderstanding and the obvious targets fault. Another straight up teacher said some kids have left the school because of bullying and theyre really awful when left alone in the rooms... i told him thats why we cant go unsupervised in america. Japan says the students are just perfect upstanding citizens, so much more caring and mature than other students. Nope. Middle schoolers will be middle schoolers no matter what country.
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popdelton2 · 5 years
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newsies modern au for anon
ohh my god okay i went into desktop web mode on my phone to do this and get a read more because i am DEDICATED to simultaneously spilling my guts AND not making anyone read two hours and two years of newsies headcanons so here it is this took me literally five hours to answer despite having a seven page document for reference also thank you i love you for this
EDIT: I HAD TO USE A SIDEBLOG SO I COULD LINK TO THIS POST AND AVOID BOMBARDING MY FOLLOWERS? THIS SITE! IS! ASS!
GOD OKAY i do not know how old this ask is because the tumblr app is ASS and didn’t give me ANY notification that i got a message but yes i love you thank you absolutely i’ll tell you about my newsies modern au i’ve been vibrating out of my skin to tell someone about this it’s nothing and everything at the same time i have 6 pages of headcanons and no real plot! because of who i am as a person!
anyway some of my personal favorite parts (of many):
- background: honestly it mostly focuses on jack and katherine and david and crutchie because Main Squad Best Squad i love all my dancing newsboys but there’s only so much you can do when there’s 800 of them with minimal character development. everyone is in that same 17-19 age range i think they’re supposed to be in the original movie/show (i think they’re younger in 92 actually but whatever) except les and sarah who are 12(almost) and 20, respectively. (jack’s 19, kat and david are 18, crutchie’s 17). with that said:
- almost everything’s gay. because i said so. jack “girls are nice, once or twice” kelly? straight? no. we stan a social justice bicon. he falls in love with kat but he is still bi as hell thanks. (kat is also bi. david and crutchie are both gay)
- david and katherine are BEST friends. david got a scholarship to the same fancy private boarding school kat attended so they’ve known each other since like seventh grade. they started a newspaper because the school didn’t have one and Kat was The Journalist Girl. bill and darcy round out their og boarding school squad, and there’s Some Stories to be told about the adventures of Boarding School Squad.
- speaking of adventures, jack and crutchie and the newsies. jack and crutchie met and subsequently adopted most of the newsies in high school except race who they met in middle school. just take a second and imagine a large group of high school boys. okay now that you’re done recoiling in horror they’re actually fairly well organized respectable boys, they just get rowdy sometimes.
- speaking of adopting newsies, medda is jack and crutchie’s mom. like actually, she adopted them for realsies. she taught drama at the high school so jack and crutchie and the newsies are Well Versed in the art of Theatre™️
- as are david and kat, mostly because kat had a crush on their drama teacher at school and low key forced to boys to go out for every show with her
- jack’s a slut for feelings (among other things). he’s the kind of bi who falls in love and is ready to propose the second a cute person looks at him. one time he tripped up the stairs while carrying paints for a set and ruined his shirt all because someone cute told him hi and smiled at him. he’s a disaster.
- jack graduated first with a couple of the older newsies and fucked off to santa fe for a while for art school and to like find himself and what not. he eventually wound up dropping out, and moving back to new york when crutchie graduated to move them both to an apartment closer to crutchie’s college.
- it’s an apartment au. of course it is. we’ve met me. when is it NOT an apartment au.
- everyone meets when katherine and david move into the same apartment building jack and crutchie and a number of other newsies live in. shenanigans Ensue, especially when jack “if i flirt loud enough they’ll think i have confidence” kelly realizes the cute new girl wants nothing to do with him which is Extremely his type.
- i’m just gonna copy paste this next part straight from the doc. “Jack goes mega heart eyes for Katherine immediately upon meeting her, is too busy being stupid for her to notice Crutchie and David falling in love. Crutchie and David fall in love so super hard like w o w there’s definitely at least one scene where all four of them are in the elevator and Kat and Jack are Loud Flirting and Crutchie and David catch each other’s eyes and do those soft lovestruck smiles boys do when they’re crushing hard it’s REAL GAY”
- also copy pasted: “Jack is fucking SMITTEN with Katherine even after they get together, he sends her cutesy memes on Snapchat and his lock screen is a picture of her and he gets kind of sulky if he goes too long without kissing her. Jack “his password is also Katherine?” Kelly. (Kat is equally smitten but much more low-key about it. She has a tendency to just like, pet his face and kiss his forehead and whatnot. they’re both very tactile it’s a lot of little touches and leaning on each other and being in each other’s space. They're in Love™. It's Gross.)” which honestly minus the modern tech parts is just canon.
- i can’t handle how over the moon they are for each other save me from this hell. that part in once and for all when she puts her hand on his chest and he grabs it and rubs his thumb over her fingers? uh bye i’m ascending. but this is about au not canon, so i digress.
- joe is still a Newspaper man except a lot of his Newspaper Man Stuff is online now? he’s leading the wave in anti-millennial editorials, and Jack, a millennial working at least two jobs, is Fed Up.
- that’s...most of the plot/backstory/major things i have so far, so here is some smaller more random tidbits to wrap this up:
- jack doesn’t meet kat and david until they move into the building, BUT he does know sarah from working part time at the same café as her. small world.
- jack is: a slut for lip products, he has soft and kissable lips at all time; the karaoke king, he owns at least one item of clothing proclaiming this; scared of spiders; can not dance. he’s so bad at dancing i can’t even make a grammatically correct statement about it.
- kat and david and bill and darcy all speak french. kat and david have a Lot of Feelings about A Lot of Things and routinely bring them up to each other just for the enjoyment of watching the other get Very Passionate about Whatever Thing (the victorian era? the romanovs? amelia earhart? censorship? linguistics? angel hair pasta? all of the above)
- jack and david are the mom and dad friends respectively. jack adamantly denies being the mom friend but he cares about everyone like they’re his own kids and he somehow has whatever anyone needs? And also he touches and hugs everyone all the time he’s a very comforting presence. once david warms up to everyone he becomes the kind of pushy dad friend who smacks you on the butt and loves to say “I told you so” and makes you get out of bed during a depression spell because he CARES about you or WHATEVER and it's GOOD FOR YOU or WHATEVER.
- Jack and David are the dad and mom friends but aren't dating because they're dating Kat and Crutchie who are feisty troublemakers under those sweet innocent exteriors (which is why they get away with so much because they’re cute and charming and smile like sunshine. Jack claims thats bullshit because he is cute and charming and smiles like sunshine also and he has never gotten away with ANYTHING in his LIFE but that's just cause he was raised by Medda who is Immune to the Jack Kelly Charm)
- david is useless re: pop culture. multiple people have multiple times shouted “LEARN A THING. WATCH A SHOW.” at him because he knows fucking encyclopedic facts about like, fuckin rattlesnakes and shit, and can quote multiple bill wurtz videos start to finish from memory, but fucking don't ask him about movies or anything because just. blank stares.
- The Forever argument at David and Kat’s apartment is is the room too hot or too cold? David thinks it is ALWAYS too cold and Kat thinks it is ALWAYS too hot and both are willing to die on that hill.
- the newsies have a sin tin, and the rules for paying the sin tin are convoluted as hell and involve a complicated voting system. the most frequent payers of the sin tin are jack and race who are tied, and crutchie has never had to pay because he is pure of heart and learned how to charm people from jack.
- les is a born con man in the best way, and david and sarah and katherine are all constantly shutting down get rich quick schemes that would probably work because les you’re an infant, stay in school and get a job in finance like the rest of the con men.
- Spot Conlon Is An Asshole, And Racetrack Higgins Is In Love With Him.
god okay that’s. a lot. most of it, not all of it. i made a few things more concise than they are in my official doc and left out a few of the much more nonsensical/just for mandy things but it’s been, uh, two years and i kind of just add a few things every week and haven’t put any effort at ALL into organizing it or giving it any plot. it’s just gonna live as a bunch of scattered shenanigans headcanons and six lines of fic forever, which is probably for the best.
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trikkidetroit · 7 years
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Social media & why the fuck am I even still awake?
I’m pretty sure, out of all social media outlets, Tumblr is the only one that actually makes me semi-happy…. it’s just a bunch unique people posting cool pictures & spouting off random musings & in it’s simplicity it is inspiring. Pinterest is cool & definitely helpful & a great source of inspiration, but it doesn’t ease my mind at all. In fact, it gets overwhelming. Frankly it becomes downright depressing when you realize 90% of the shit you’re pinning are the beautiful places you’ll never go, the wondrous marks on the globe you’ll never travel to, the amazingly unattainable things you’ll never possess, and the recipes that you are probably never going make…. for that dinner party that you’re never gonna throw…. in that custom kitchen in the dream home you’ll never have Facebook is much more self-explanatory in it’s misery. The more friends you collect, the less private your life becomes. There’s a fine line between harmless networking and destructive infringement on personal privacy in Facebookland that is skirted constantly. And there are those who think it’s okay to just completely invade another person’s private life (because they’re “on social media”, fuck their privacy right?) These bottom-feeder-esque leech people that choose to disregard the Facebook line of morality, and the difference between right and wrong altogether, & might act in a manner that is destructive in terms of lynch-mob bullying, deliberately attempting to ruin a person’s reputation, or saying things & acting in a way behind a computer screen that they wouldn’t dare say to their targets face out in public. Pussies. You hear more and more these days about kids that commit suicide, or are totally fucked up from this website due to malicious cyberbullying by their peers. Facebook users report FOMO, and tend to feel inadequate about their own lives when they see friends of theirs who think it’s a popularity contest, posting pictures of amazing things that they’re doing every single day, or the “super enlightening thing” that they’re going to say or do that’s going to change everybody’s life via a post. It’s OK to post pictures from the one.. or two.. or five….. or fucking 20 vacations one may go on a year…. or if one’s life is just a vacation, posting pictures from that sweet end of the deal in life they’re living….. but be mindful & attempt to recognize the line between “I’m posting this to feed my superego” and “I’d like to share this with my friends and family”. Not to mention the countless hours of mindless scrolling, liking everybody’s pictures, checking to see if your pictures got likes, and feeling the need to interject on some political issue you have no base knowledge of or some social issue that doesn’t concern you…. and I don’t mean to give anyone a complex (though if you’re that high & mighty to actually be offended by the things that I’m saying, you probably deserve one). I’m just using these examples because even I am guilty of these waste-of-time, dumbing-down-of-society-overall activities in my Facebook history. And there’s Twitter…. I for one think it’s kind of stupid. I mainly use it mockingly, or to share mindless drivel, or to post a shock-tweet here & there to see if I can elicit some type of indirect, latently passive aggressive online response from one of the trolls, or to share semi-pertinent news stories. But I will give it this: celebrities and even our commander-in-chief tend to love this platform to share information because it keeps them relevant… really if you use Twitter and you’re not a celebrity or a politician or a musician then you’re really just there to spectate on what the fuck those people are doing day-to-day or hour-to-hour. It’s a quick way to get straight-to-the-point information across assertively and decisively, which can become a problem because when one doesn’t use the adequate follow-up information via paragraphs to express themselves after making an in-your-face tweet, there’s a lot of room for misinterpretation on what the fuck they just said in that 140-characters space. Here’s why it is depressing to me: I feel that too much is going on in my head at any given moment to appropriately express myself in one brief, haiku-like statement. If social media was poetry, and the different forms of poetry represented each media outlet….Twitter would be the haikus. Sometimes a haiku is profound, but how much can you fucking express in such a small space? And to extend that thought on to multiple tweets just gets confusing in terms of continuity & it throws the reader off so it’s best to just keep it short to begin with. Also, who or what the fuck am I tweeting too? I’m not a celebrity, I’m not rich, I’m not famous. I’m not an inspiring author or an astrophysicist or a career politician. I’m just some asshole. Sometimes I just do it because… oh I don’t know…. I’m sick in the head and think somebody might be reading it that actually thinks I’m a celebrity of sorts… although I’m not. And if I tweet enough I could trick them into believing I was someone important. But even that wouldn’t fill the empty hole inside that twitter creates. Instagram is kind of like Tumblr in the sense that you’re sharing cool photos that you either find or you take yourself but you’re limited to a box format in terms of photos dimensions which is annoying, and a bunch of generic filters, and it’s not really a blog. I guess it’s cool if you don’t have much to say or if you do a lot of video blogging, but for those of us who enjoy good old fashioned writing as a means of self-expression, it’s kind of a sad media outlet. :( *edit: I have been able to find quite a few meaningful blog-like instagrams recently with purpose, mainly by people who foster animals or do charity work. Reddit is just a massive fucking forum board, and Snapchat is for college students & 20-somethings that want to show their friends the great time they’re having getting shitfaced but don’t want any record of it to remain so it doesn’t get out to mom. It’s also good for, I’m guessing, unimpressive dick pics from guys that are probably sending the same picture to their whole female Snapchat list. Which is a depressing thought in and of itself. I guess what I’m trying to say is social media sucks, I’m kind of an extroverted-introvert, so I tolerate the idiocy that breeds in these networks, but I feel my most at home & able to express myself amongst like-minded individuals on this particular site. I have been kind of melancholy over the past couple months… probably because I tried to shut my Tumblr down because I thought my life was going to get suddenly interesting enough to where I wouldn’t really need to blog that much anymore because I’d be too busy living my exciting life. Well, suffice to say that never happened, so starting back up is helping me cope… Besides the fact that (in the far reaches of the Tumblr universe) there is some great porn.. I mean.. erotic art. So thank you Tumblr for not sucking.. and for anybody who actually reads all of this, I’m sorry in advance.
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How to be Hated by An RP Community: A Guide for Assholes by an Asshole
Do you RP?
Do you hate being ignored when facing the slightest bit of emotional distress?
Do you enjoy having people notice your characters but hate the pesky effort of treating your peers like actual people?
Congratulations, dear reader! You’ve taken the first step in becoming despised by every roleplayer you come into contact with! This truly is a thrilling and triumphant chapter you’re stepping into. Why there are many perks to being your grade A RPing asshole, which include crippling self esteem, isolation, depression, damaged eating/sleeping habits, decreased work quality, lower grades, loss of contact with loved ones, and even permanent emotional trauma! For some of us, this all comes naturally. However, some wide eyed newcomer walking into the RP community might not understand the basics of becoming a massive thorn on everyone’s side.
With just five easy steps, you too can become the grade A asshole your mother spent hours in labor forcing out of a narrow vulva while sobbing in sheer agony.
1.) Rules? About page? Headcanons? All those go out the door! You see, reader, nothing gives an RPer the middle finger quite like ignoring someone’s painstaking efforts in creating a character identity that is unique to their own designs while also maintaining the integrity of the original story. Yeah, their characterization is okay I guess. But you? You’ve got this in the bag, even if you gotta remind them by breaking their rules and head canons and forcing your ideas down their throats. What if they ignore you, you ask? Simple! Look into your dictionary of controversial buzzwords and slap them on their name. Because nothing say asshole quite like using serious issues that affect hundreds of thousands of people across the globe when something doesn’t go your way.
2.) Break boundaries like a real hero! When we were all little, we were told that life has no boundaries. All boundaries set up by the man are meant to be broken. All of them. Every single one. And all can be shattered with ease if you put your hands in your ears and scream “LALALALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” loud enough. A little known secret about being a true RPer is that when we sign up, we actually make a blood oath to hell beasts for our page layout, icons, and writing skills. And in return we are expected to post a minimum of fifteen replies a day in order to appease to our overlords. RPers are expected to always stay in character and respond to your posts even during their most distressing times of their lives. School? Work? Family emergency? Their cherished pet died? PSH! Once you stubbed your toe against the nightstand and only cried for fifteen minutes. So go ahead, send in all those messages asking why they haven’t RPed all day despite posting memes or other content on their blog. When in doubt, just remember all boundaries are meant to be broken, including personal.
3.) It’s all a popularity contest! What’s that? You think that people RP for fun and to interact with new people? Yeah sure kid, you tell yourself that. The first step to building your RP account isn’t creating an interesting character. That’s too much time and work. Instead, latch onto the most popular RPer you know and leech off their overall minor online accomplishment. Send them uncomfortable messages, invade their personal space, raid all their RP threads without permission, make logging onto their account a living hell. The world must know you two are the closest and bestest of friends even if you can’t remember their last name or birthday. 
But what’s that? You think that’s too much time and emotional investment? That’s okay! You can easily build a blog of your own by simply “borrowing” ideas from other blogs. This can include art, headcanons, faceplates, writing, music and any other original work painstakingly made by the talented hands of other RPers you tried to manipulate. The best part is, you don’t even have to ask. Remember, ignorance is bliss, and nobody can accuse you of plagiarism if you just didn’t know any better and the RPer is unaware! After all, you deserve those followers, and nothing is more important than what you want in life. Besides, if all these guys have so many followers on their blog, then they clearly have enough emotional support and security. They can share!
4.) OCs? More like no see! Everyone knows that OCs are all just lazy self insert smut dolls. That’s right, you sinful harlots. That character you spent months developing into your own personal creation was all a ruse to disguise your disgusting lustful tendencies. How dare you write a character of your own imagination and use them however you please. But that’s not even the worst part, reader. Did you know if you interact with an OC blog, you’re doomed to fade into obscurity? Nobody wants fresh ideas or something new and interesting, and that’s not going on your blog ever. The more you interact with fan characters, the less people will follow your stories and read your RPs. And nothing is more important than pleasing the mainstream audience. OCs are essentially the herpes of any RPing community, so be sure to toss them in the trash as you kick them off. Don’t ever let them down easy and give them time to become their own interesting part of a massive universe. After all, this massive and complex world they originate in clearly has enough people to count on your hands. Give that stupid Mary Sue what they deserve! 
5.) When in doubt, bullshit your way out. The world is sad and harsh and truth is scary. Too scary, in fact. Hearing the truth makes other people sad. That’s why you should do everything in your power to lie. It’s not that you don’t respect the intelligence or emotional well being of everyone around you. You’re just doing the right thing by creating an ideal place for all your followers and peers. The truth is just too big and scary. Remember step three. Ignorance is bliss. Are you under 18 but want to smut? Lie about your age. Sure it may run the risk of throwing an innocent person in jail, but smut of your OTP is just so hard to come by these days and dad just installed parental controls on your laptop. Do you hate another RPer and have an insatiable jealousy that can’t be satisfied? Post fake chat logs or flat out antagonize them publicly. Don’t forget to give your followers a link to their account so they can harass them. It’s not your fault, all of that could have been avoided if they just did what you asked. But most importantly, lie to yourself. Create a persona instead of being honest with both yourself and the people who want to look up to your work. Remember, you are flawless and can do no wrong. If you ever make a mistake, never forget the other side provoked it and only got what they deserve. You never need to improve by listening to criticism or learning from people who are more experienced than you. If you tell yourself you’re flawless enough, everyone will believe you, including yourself.
Good job reader! Now that you’ve thoroughly followed all the advice listed here, you’re well on your way to becoming the subject of other people’s bitter conversations. RPers will run from you and you will find yourself slowly but surely fade away until the only thing left is a broken ego and soiled reputation.
“But Clara! I don’t want to be hated. I want my blog to be loved. How do I get people to love me?”
The secret to being loved is that there is no secret. People don’t run on a formula. Some people will love you while others will hate your guts for no real reason. Some are open, others are a bit more isolated. Some prefer rping with their friends while others are willing to share different ideas. Bottom line, people are complicated and not everyone is going to be your best friend. 
Read the rules/about page and any headcanons. Try to follow their rules as best as you can. If you make a mistake, offer an immediate apology. Be polite and courteous even to the smallest of strangers. If you see something on an RP blog you like, ask someone for advice on how to improve or permission to borrow any content. Accept a yes or no with grace instead of anger. But the most important step is communication. Ask for help. Ask for advice. Ask if they want to RP or what kind of things they’d like to do together. Share your ideas and listen to what the other has to say. Offer praise when you see something you like. Give a get well message to someone when they post they are feeling under the weather. Hell even give characters a random question to answer every once in a while. It isn’t just their blog, but your own too. Make your pages easy to access. Write an about page that’s easy to understand (for god’s sake stop writing riddles that raise more questions than answers as an about page). Introduce your character like people don’t know who they are. Maybe they’re not part of the fandom. Maybe they want to know how you portray your character. Be sure to be open for any suggestions and ideas, and people will find you far easier to approach.
You don’t have to be friends or very close, but you can still interact while keeping friendly conversation. Many RPers don’t mind receiving personal messages, and chances are they’re just as shy as you are. Instead of comparing differences and trying to find the superior, learn to work with them. RPing is about two people writing for fun in the end. When you find a mutual and positive relationship with someone and their character, everything else falls into place.
“But I still don’t get many asks or followers. What can I do to fix that?”
I wouldn’t know. People also tend to follow what they think is good. That’s something I’ve learned working in restaurants for over seven years. If you feel you’re short on contact, it could be a wake up call to try and revamp things to make something new and improved. Don’t be afraid to take the risk. Sometimes it also depends on what the content being put out is. My best friend has over 2000 followers on her RP blog, but she also posts very well done art she made on a regular basis. Not only that but her characters and ideas never cease to blow me away. Naturally people are gonna wanna see more original art and comics than random drabble writing like me. None the less, I’m always proud of her whenever she does something people love. People see all the hard work she puts into everything she posts, and that’s why she gets attention. She and I follow the same rule and we’re both happy RPers as a result: Write what you want to read and people will follow.
“How can I even tell if I’m a good RPer when I don’t have enough followers or messages?”
By saying this you say two things to everyone reading your posts. First, you treat everyone who follows you, all those RPers who worked just as hard, if not harder, than you to make their character interesting as nothing more than a number in a counter. You don’t respect their independence or their efforts and only appreciate their follows. 
Second, and even worse, all those people who sent you asks? Who read your content? Who log on and get excited to see your posts? Not only do you completely disregard all the time and effort put into keeping up with your hard work, but you completely dismiss all the support they offered you every step of the way and made their painstakingly made responses entirely worthless. 
When you judge yourself over follower count, you turn your back on both acquaintances and loyal RPers/followers. Frankly, if you’re only RPing to become mildly popular no matter what it takes, you don’t deserve either of them.
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fredbearings · 7 years
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phone dude and fright guard headcanons!!
i’ve been dyin to talk about my sweet beans for a while. 
their names are aaron and samantha, respectively!! the fright guard goes by sam. phone dude is male and fright guard is female
they’re lifelong best friends. they met in kindergarten and only became friends after aaron ate a fistful of paste during arts and crafts like it was nothing. like just shoved his damn hand in the jar and ate it with no qualms. she decided that kid was somebody she wanted to be friends with
assuming fnaf 3 takes place in 2015 (2022 would make more sense but i’m so used to ‘15), they were born in 1994. they missed freddy fazbear’s by a year and aaron decided he was perpetually upset about that and always complained that they never got to go. this lead him to become a huuuuuge fanboy of the franchise and became fascinated by the murders. he could tell you the names of all the victims and theorizes on online boards who committed the crime, could tell you the entire company history off of the top of his head, and owns several pieces of memorabilia he bought off of ebay for asinine prices
building on this, his entire youtube history consists of the few robotics conferences that were recorded of will and michael. he has sketches of the spring suits based off of what was shown in those conferences and discusses them on said online boards
he idolizes william afton. KEEP IN MIND--nobody knows he did it. as far as aaron would know, he would be this genius who created such an amazing and tragic franchise and took a big step for the robotics industry. to aaron, he was just this business tycoon who he thought was really damn cool. little does he know that william is an absolute asshole and a piece of burning garbage but
he will vehemently deny that the aftons had any involvement in the murders. he thinks it would be absolutely absurd for william or michael to have done it because of their involvement in the company and instead usually pins the blame on some random, obscure employee that seemed ‘suspicious’ to him
absolute 90s kids. sam’s dorm is decorated with lisa frank stickers and riddled with the same furbies she used to play with as a kid. she keeps a tamagotchi on her purse.
oh, they’re college students!! sam is studying animation and aaron is studying chemistry
their jobs at the amusement park are their summer jobs
aaron is a stoner, but that’s p much a given. sam heavily disapproves of his fixation on it and often will make jabs at him if she can smell it on him, sees him smoking it, etc.
he is directly responsible for the phantoms. that is second hand high and sam nearly murders him for hindering her senses even a little
that ‘uh oh, gotta go’ phone call was bc he was about to get caught doing that stuff on the job. but that’s also a fandom wide hc
he was v likely high when he found spring, which is why he didn’t take any notice as to how there were guts spilling out the front or that, y’know, there was a human in there. if michael tried talking to him, it probably came out as a garble and aaron was too impaired to think it was anything but the drugs, which would also explain why he ignored the rot
total weeaboos. sailor moon is their favorite.
sam tries to get ahold of aaron after every night shift to find out what the hell kind of a prank he was pulling on her, but she can never find him/he won’t answer his phone. obviously he found a way to get ahold of HER, thus the calls
sam is terrified of springtrap. he’s gotten dangerously close to catching her before and being as she doesn’t know why the hell his eyes look so human, she nearly passes out any time he gets near her from the nerves. that on top of system failure is no good
she can’t find a way out of the fright when it burns. being as the building had been shabbily made and stuffed full of artifacts, all her exits were blocked. she runs around with no luck, and eventually blacks out from the lack of oxygen. spring finds her in the rubble and panics, pulling her out and waking her up to make sure she was okay. understandably, she freaks the hell out and blacks out yet again out of fear. spring decides to finally just lay her on the bench in the midway and escape before he was caught again, but that’s a whole other post
aaron has messy brunette hair and usually wears hoodies and jeans. sam has long, light pink hair that she ties into a ponytail at the top of her head and wears loose clothing, like tank tops and shorts. every single outfit she owns is adorable 
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