#“Give me an abstract still life”
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Art school will have you doing the most random shit on the planet and it’ll also have you so tired you get this far without fully questioning why the professor requested this as a still life
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faaun · 3 months ago
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the way that diff languages sound r so fascinating they're all different and all so vivid
#russian is like the surface of a feather like it's light but not exactly “soft” but still very delicate#german is . cute ? i think it's adorable . it has a lot of momentum it makes u wanna talk fast and talk a lot#like it's squishy . sleek surface w a soft inside#thai is like song . it's like interprative dance or maybe a trust-fall . everything follows from the previous thing#it feels like a little fairy flying up and letting itself fall and flying up again and so on (for fun). its so beautiful but also playful#mandarin chinese is like . idk why but it gives me the same vibe the concept of Observation does . like to read and to see and absorb#and then to translate that into smth else . like . imagine a poet people watching or an artist preparing a canvas w practiced hands. thats#the vibe. soft and elegant and musical but like...in a way that feels lived-in. arabic feels wise ? like music or poetry u read#and feel nothing about then years later u stumble on and it applies to everything in ur life. that kind of vibe. like it knows more than u#and itll make sure ur heart and soul grows as big as its lexicon . polish is like snowflakes falling . it has the feeling of complexity and#elegance but it's also so so light and slippery and...maybe not elusive but the feeling of losing a dance partner in a waltz ? like fun and#light but also an underlying elegance and somberness still . turkish is like the feeling when u get a text from ur crush#and your heart tightens and you cant tell if it's really painful or really amazing . it feels like unrequited love . or a caress#or making out with someone when you know its the last time you'll see them. its beautiful in a yearning longing way#korean is like joking around w ur friends and you've stayed up until like almost 5 AM and youre so delirious that everything is funny#and ur speaking kind of lightly and openly and everything you say holds a lot of weight and doesnt matter at all. you laugh at everything#and youre practically talking in inside jokes and watching the sunrise together . one of them hits u on the shoulder lovingly. ur by a fire#yoruba feels like the metatheory of the matatheory . abstraction until it circles back to intuition or maybe#it feels like plotting the route of a comet or maybe like the soft warm whirr of statistics. trying to verbalise beauty somehow#when you know the best thing you can show it is by telling everyone just look!! look at the sky just look!#anyway yh i think i could do this for every language ever tbh
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kacievvbbbb · 26 days ago
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But like hypothetically if I decided to make a series of YouTube video breaking down and rambling about how I think the first year trio encompass the full gradient scale of what it means to be “morally good” and how by the end of the series they have grown exponentially but their moral inner workings are so entrenched in who they are they never needed to change they just became more of who they already were.
Because initially Yuuji wants to save the world in that abstract way all heroes do, Megumi is only interested in saving those he can save and Nobara is only interested in those she wants to save. And all these are treated as morally valid by the narrative and not really flaws in need of changing but instead philosophies in need of refining and understanding.
Because Jujutsu Society as a whole encourages and thrives off a moral apathy or superiority, they are in the business of killing curses not saving lives and that ultimately raises the question of if you’re going out there everyday killing curses and inadvertently saving lives does it really matter the reason why? Or the morality behind it? Maybe not to you but to the society, maybe.
So anyway, hypothetically ….would you be hypothetically interested👀
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curlicuecal · 28 days ago
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playing science telephone
Hi folks. Let's play a fun game today called "unravelling bad science communication back to its source."
Journey with me.
Saw a comment going around on a tumblr thread that "sometimes the life expectancy of autism is cited in the 30s"
That number seemed..... strange. The commenter DID go on to say that that was "situational on people being awful and not… anything autism actually does", but you know what? Still a strange number. I feel compelled to fact check.
Quick Google "autism life expectancy" pulls up quite a few websites bandying around the number 39. Which is ~technically~ within the 30s, but already higher than the tumblr factoid would suggest. But, guess what. This number still sounds strange to me.
Most of the websites presenting this factoid present themselves as official autism resources and organizations (for parents, etc), and most of them vaguely wave towards "studies."
Ex: "Above And Beyond Therapy" has a whole article on "Does Autism Affect Life Expectancy" and states:
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The link implies that it will take you to the "research studies" being referenced, but it in fact takes you to another random autism resource group called.... Songbird Care?
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And on that website we find the factoid again:
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Ooh, look. Now they've added the word "some". The average lifespan for SOME autistic people. Which the next group erased from the fact. The message shifts further.
And we have slightly more information about the study! (Which has also shifted from "studies" to a singular "study"). And we have another link!
Wonderfully, this link actually takes us to the actual peer-reviewed 2020 study being discussed. [x]
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And here, just by reading the abstract, we find the most important information of all.
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This study followed a cohort of adolescent and adult autistic people across a 20 year time period. Within that time period, 6.4% of the cohort died. Within that 6.4%, the average age of death was 39 years.
So this number is VERY MUCH not the average age of death for autistic people, or even the average age of death for the cohort of autistic people in that study. It is the average age of death IF you died young and within the 20 year period of the study (n=26), and also we don't even know the average starting age of participants without digging into earlier papers, except that it was 10 or older. (If you're curious, the researchers in the study suggested reduced self-sufficiency to be among the biggest risk factors for the early mortality group.)
But the number in the study has been removed from it's context, gradually modified and spread around the web, and modified some more, until it is pretty much a nonsense number that everyone is citing from everyone else.
There ARE two other numbers that pop up semi-frequently:
One cites the life expectancy at 58. I will leave finding the context for that number as an exercise for the audience, since none of the places I saw it gave a direct citation for where they were getting it.
And then, probably the best and most relevant number floating around out there (and the least frequently cited) draws from a 2023 study of over 17,000 UK people with an autism diagnosis, across 30 years. [x] This study estimated life expectancies between 70 and 77 years, varying with sex and presence/absence of a learning disability. (As compared to the UK 80-83 average for the population as a whole.)
This is a set of numbers that makes way more sense and is backed by way better data, but isn't quite as snappy a soundbite to pass around the internet. I'm gonna pass it around anyway, because I feel bad about how many scared internet people I stumbled across while doing this search.
People on quora like "I'm autistic, can I live past 38"-- honey, YES. omg.
---
tl;dr, when someone gives you a number out of context, consider that the context is probably important
also, make an amateur fact checker's life easier and CITE YOUR SOURCES
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nightingale-prompts · 2 months ago
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Finding Batboy
First| Previous | Next
Phantom
King
Fenton
Apprentice
Batboy
He just wanted to be Danny. Just Danny, nothing else.
But who was Danny anymore?
Danny was a 14-year-old boy who died in a tragic accident. Danny had a decent life with friends and a sister who he loved. Danny wanted to be an astronaut and loved the stars. Danny had an astrology phase that made him so annoying to everyone but Sam. Danny liked dogs and cats hated him for no reason no matter how much he loved them. Danny wanted to join the robotics club with Tucker. Danny still snuck into his sister's room when he was scared to sleep in her bed.
But Danny is dead. Danny has been dead for years now.
He missed being Danny.
Now he was Phantom.
No past.
No home.
No family.
But if that was true, what did that make Dick?
Just another person that he would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be long. History doesn't repeat but it rhymes. It can't last. It won't.
Danny flew to some abandoned factory located somewhere in Gotham. He hadn't really paid much attention. He just needed a desolate place to land. Somewhere even the ghosts have long abandoned.
Truthfully Danny didn't want to be alone. A part of him felt the urge to find that revenant that he had met. Something that felt familiar to him, someone that could understand.
But right now Danny wanted to rest and he wasn't picky about where. He wrapped his wings in a tight cocoon and plopped on the ground. His sleep was deep, more than he ever remembered having before, except once.
Danny walked through the halls of a spiraling tower that overlooked the Ghost Zone. The tower was decorated with stars and moons. Mist hovered just above the floor creating a icy blue carpet. Ghost sheep napped in corners. The scent of poppy and pine filled the air.
As Danny ascended to the top he met with a familiar face. Nocturne the ghost of dreams. The ghost's thick bridged nose reminded Danny of that of a sheep that matched his curled ramhorns. His red eyes with horizontal pupils reminded him of a demonic ram he had seen in a horror movie once. Danny could practically hear that line again: "Would thou like to live deliciously?"
It still gave Danny chills.
"Please refrain from making such comparisons." Nocturne said, his voice deep but soft at the same time.
Danny had gotten to know Nocturne some time ago. Apparently, he and Clockwork were close. They shared a high rank among ghosts as they were abstract manifestations rather then being that were once living like some. The hierarchy of ghosts was complex, and Nocturne was not someone to look down on.
"Nox, why am I here?" Danny said standing before the seven-foot frame of the amorphous ghost.
"You are spending too much time in the material realm. If you don't get time back in the realm to which you belong you'll go mad. It's already starting to happen. I stole your mind away for a bit to give you a mental break but your body is already starting to break down." Nocturne said waving a finger at him.
"My body and brain are fine Nox." Danny said crossing his arms.
Nocturne picked the boy up with one hand and held him at eye level.
"You are having trouble shifting are you not? Its not coming as easily as it should. The more attached you get to a form without the energy from our world to break it up the worse it will be. The Ghost of Time has already told me of the problem. You must stay here for the time being and recover. It is what's best. Mental weakness is the worst one can suffer and the remedy is sleep." Nocturne's breath smelled like warm milk and cinnamon. It calmed Danny's nerves and made his eyes heavy.
Clockwork had put him up to this. That old man...really was....annoying....Zzzz.
Back in the world of the living and awake mass panic has broken out.
Batboy is currently missing and Nightwing is not handling it well. The entirety of the Gotham Vigilantes team has been notified and is searching the cities of Gotham and Bludhaven.
"Have you searched the docks?" Nightwing asked frantically as he searched every rooftop in the city.
"I'm working on it. Do you really think he's here?" Red Robin said scanning every unit on the lot.
Red Hood didn't know what the BatBoy kid looked like other than the whole wings thing. If his little buddy Phantom could help it would help.
Although they had a slight resemblance Jason could see too many differences when looking at the pictures. Phantom had round ears, and silver hair that moved like fire and looked like a human. Batboy had long sharp ears, claws, pointy teeth, blueish-green skin, wings, and a white fluff around his neck. Clearly, they were different.
Batman searched the dark allies of Gotham as Signal and Orphan split up to cover as much ground as possible. Oracle searched every camera from the past few hours for the boy.
The good news was that Batboy was found. The bad news was who found him.
"Poor little Bluebird lost his fledgling and Batsy is looking for the lost pup. I should let them know that the little guy has been found! Ahahahaha!"
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lani-heart · 4 months ago
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
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genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of abandonment issues, stealing, mention of abuse words -> 3k
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abstract -> two hybrids... bonded were now separated, it could harm them both
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y/n's perspective
It's officially been a year since I’ve had Wooyoung and San. He’s been getting better, but his memories are still hazy, even when he was in the ring. It wasn’t until that one day that he confessed that losing a few memories doesn’t seem like a bad thing, and he accepted it. 
He’s no longer scared of the elevator bell, still doesn’t like being around other hybrids, but doesn’t mind going out anymore. Doesn’t prefer crowded areas but is happy with his life. 
He’s… happier. Obliviousness is sometimes a blessing. 
He’s shown Wooyoung more love than before and even towards Yeosang. He even teases Seonghwa a lot, whilst he at first hated Hongjoong now follows his every order. He’s changed since I've had him and if he was happy that's all that mattered.
I wanted to fulfill my promise to make him happy even if he doesn’t remember it. 
“Stop eating like pigs!” Seonghwa scolded and I chuckled since we were finishing up on dessert. “You have chocolate all over your face,” Hongjoong teased and I smiled. 
The two were the oldest and so were very attentive despite only being with us for three months. They cared a lot and adjusted well, while Yeosang too was better than how he was. He was no longer scared of eating food and accepted presents without wanting to pay them back in return. 
I could’ve never believed in having five hybrids let alone one last year but… I was glad that I adopted San that day. It brought me more happiness than ever before.
“Here is your receipt ma'am I hope you had a lovely dinner. I would also advise you to be careful there's been pick-pockets recently stealing wallets and cash” the waitress said and left. That was still going on huh? 
“Here you go Angel” I heard and noticed Yeosang holding my coat. “Thanks, Yeosang,” I said as he helped me put it on. “They seem very happy,” he said and I chuckled as I saw Seonghwa wiping their faces from the chocolate dessert they ate.  “Yeah, yours is next,” I said and he smiled. 
I could hear San and Wooyoung already planning what they want next year, making me happy how excited they got for little things. “Ooh! Hongjoong we should do a Barbeque!” Seonghwa said excitedly. “Hmm? Maybe we should do that for me!” Yeosang said and I laughed at their rivalry. Yeosang walked ahead towards the two and Seonghwa only glared at his head. 
“Don’t worry, I know for a fact he’d ask for fried chicken in the apartment, '' I said and he chuckled. “Makes sense, he doesn’t like leaving home either way” Seonghwa said and I nod. Hongjoong was by my side acting as my bodyguard as the three other hybrids were walking ahead. “I can’t believe it's been three months already,” Hongjoong said and I nodded. It's been two months since our incident but everyone has grown from that. 
“SOMEONE STOP HIM!” I heard a familiar yell. I noticed a man now stop panting in front of us. “Shotaro?” I ask and he looks up to see me. “Ah, y/n… give.. me… a minute” he said out of breath. “You… and all your hybrids, you look scary” he said out of breath and I let out a chuckle before worrying for him. “What happened, are you okay?” I asked and he nodded but quickly bactracked. “Actually no, I got robbed!” he yelled, frustrated. 
“Oh, the infamous pick-pocket?” I sighed and he nodded. “Apparently, Doyoung has even lost money. Didn’t you lose your wallet?” he asked and I shook my head. “Just 200,” I said. “What?” Yeosang said confused and I forgot only Hongjoong knew. 
“I smell a dog hybrid,” San said and Shotaro looked more confused. “A hybrid stole from me? I better tell Kun about this soon” he said, still catching his breath. “How long have you been running, the shop is far from here?” I asked and he scoffed. “Too long, and now I've lost them,” he said and I sighed. “You’re going to have to report everything” I said and he nodded. “I’ll tell Taeyong-hyung about this tonight” he said but he still looked irritated. 
“You should go home, it's getting pretty late. You at least have a pack of hybrids to protect you” he said and I nod knowing I was okay. “You should go back to shop, be careful” I said and he nodded as he waved. 
“When did you lose money?” Wooyoung asked and I sighed. “It was the first time for the circus hybrid interviews and then the second when I got out of the hospital” I said and they all deflated. I smiled, “Don’t worry it's fine, they probably need it more than me” I said and they didn’t say anything. 
“Come on, let's go home!” 
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yunho’s perspective
“Woah! A hundred! We haven’t gone this much in a while” Mingi said, happy to have increased funds. We haven’t found that since… that one girl. It still made me sick how I had to rob her while she was so… lost. “She’s been showing up with that tiger though” he pouted. “She has five hybrids so be careful, and don’t rob her,” I said and he nodded. 
I would sometimes see the different hybrids… a panther showed up once. A Doberman would show up rarely, while a fox was very hyperactive meaning he was one of the ones commonly accompanying her. Whilst there were two tigers… the orange tiger was always with her by her side and he would always glare at me. He knew…
“Do you think we can eat a good meal tomorrow?” he asked and I chuckled. “Hmm? What are you thinking?” I asked and he grinned. “Ramyeon!” he said excitedly. 
“Guess, we’ll finally eat some food at a convenience store!” 
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We were picking out cheap brands of snacks that would hopefully last us a while. It wasn’t until I turned the corner to see her… I quickly turned around hiding in a different aisle. Mingi walked in front of me when I grabbed him. 
“Don’t go over there” I said and he looked confused while speaking but I flicked his forehead. “Ow! Hey, it's–" "No,” I said and he scoffed “Come on, she’s alone” he begged and I shook my head. 
“y/n you’re a lifesaver! I swear I'll pay you back” I heard… that voice sounded familiar. “Hey don’t worry about it! It's not your fault you got robbed” she said… that was the boy we robbed off of yesterday. 
“M-Mingi we have to leave… now… Mingi?” I said and looked at where he was. Where did he go? I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder scared but it was him… holding her wallet. 
“Give it back,” I said, feeling my heart stop. “What? No–'' “Mingi threw it on the floor or something was leaving,” I said and he didn’t want to. “Huh? I don’t have my wallet?” she said and I started putting things away randomly not caring if it didn’t belong. “Sir! Someone robbed her!” I heard. “We’re leaving!” I said as I tried rushing him but we were stopped by security.
“There's a thief in the store so can you please–” I pushed my out with Mingi while we ran. When I thought we escaped, I stopped as we caught our breath. 
“A hybrid thief sounds like the start of a bad kid’s story” I heard and I looked behind me… the tiny tiger. “Give it back,” he said with a handout and I looked at Mingi who didn’t budge. He was a wolf hybrid and in theory he looked intimidating but he wasn’t… despite his size, he was the runt of his litter, and he couldn’t fight. I couldn’t either… but the tiger was so small. What harm could he do? Right?
“I’m not gonna ask again,” he said as I saw his claws get bigger. 
“Yunho we can take him,” Mingi whispered but I wasn’t so sure. Something told me no… he was getting closer when I saw a familiar figure. “Hongjoong!” she said as he seemed to calm down immediately even retracting his claws “Hey! Thieves!!!” the boy we robbed yesterday yelled. 
“Huh? You’re the guy who always…” she said almost in a disappointed tone… if it wasn’t for my hat I would’ve surely looked like a kicked puppy.
“He has your wallet,” Hongjoong told her and her eyes widened… “Every time you talked to me wasn’t because you were comforting me… you stole from me each time” she said and I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t defend myself since it was true… we did steal from her.
“That’s what I get for trusting a stranger…” she muttered as I saw the tiger go to her side and rub her back trying to comfort her…
“I want my wallet back!” the boy yelled and I looked at Mingi who looked frozen. “Give it back…” I muttered and he took out the two wallets. “Yunho I’m sorry, this was my fault,” he said and gave me her wallet which I wanted to hand to her but the tiger got it instead.
“Kun is coming soon,” the boy said and I was confused… who was that?
“I'm sorry… I did try helping you” I ended up saying but she didn’t look at me. I was jealous of the tiger. She cares for her hybrids… I see her every time she walks down this street with a hybrid… Most people collected them but she didn’t seem to be doing that. She loved them… why wasn’t I that lucky?
It was a weird combination too… two tigers, a panther, a fox, and another dog. I felt most jealous of that dog…
“Why can’t we run?” Mingi whispered and I knew the two were waiting for whoever Kun was… “I don’t know… we’re caught red-handed Mingi. It’s over” I said and he shook his head. “No, it can’t be,” Mingi said as he stood up. “Look we’re sorry… we need to leave now,” Mingi said but the tiger… Hongjoong growled at the wolf hybrid. “Hongjoong don’t,” the girl said to her hybrid but the tiger scoffed. He went back to her side and before Mingi could do anything I heard sirens.
“Yunho? Hybrid control… I don’t wanna go back to them” he said and I shook my head. 
“I don’t either… I’m sorry Mingi I failed you”
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y/n’s perspective
“He comforted me when my hybrids were in here… I know I didn’t know him but it feels a little bit like betrayal” I confessed and Kun nodded. “I know, both hybrids are code green. They have owners coming to pick them up soon,” he said and I nodded. 
“Why would they run away, though?” I pondered and he shrugged. “If I find any type of mistreatment then I won’t allow them to take them. However, we can’t assume the worst” he said and I nodded.
“Kun, the owners are here” I heard Haechan say from the door. “Yah! You two are eating lunch without me?” he pouted and I chuckled.
“Haechan you took a thirty-minute break already… also it's supposed to be fifteen.” he scolded and the young boy laughed it off “y/n you might also want to come,” he said with a worried tone… I followed him outside to see a couple and their two kids.
“Do tricks for us, tiger!” I heard the kids yell and I saw Hongjoong clearly uncomfortable… “Joong, come here,” I said as he was now behind me. 
Hongjoon definitely had some triggers, being told to do tricks was definitely one of them. Being recognized as a whole makes him quite anxious. 
“Oh, come on. Let the hybrid do some tricks” a woman asked and I chuckled awkwardly. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t do this–” “I didn’t ask, darling. My kids want to play with him so I said let the hybrid do some tricks,” she said rather rudely and I scoffed.
“And who are you to tell me what to do? May I remind you that your two hybrids ran away?! They robbed me!” I yelled and she scoffed. 
“What did you have? A twenty?” she joked and I glared. “More like two hundred” I muttered and she laughed. “Two hundred is nothing here,” she said as she grabbed her husband’s wallet and handed me two hundred dollars and I scoffed. 
“I don’t want your pathetic money,” I said and she glared. She instead threw the money at me and laughed. “You look like you need it,” she said, and before I could say anything–
“Yuyu!!” I heard the children yell at the hybrid. I saw the golden retriever hybrid look at his owner fearfully and nervously. The wolf hybrid also stared at the ground…
“Are you okay?” I asked my tiger as I put my hands over Hongjoong's who gripped my hips. He nodded softly as he got closer and hugged me, trying to comfort himself. I could only pet his head as he hugged me.
“We only wanted, Yunho” I heard the lady say. “Please” I heard Yunho plead. “Who are you to ask for things? You ran away, you’ll be punished. Look doctor, Mingi is a violent hybrid he shouldn't even be a code green” she said making me scoff. 
I saw the kids pull on Yunho’s tail while the hybrid could only look at his companion. Was that why they ran away? They were being separated?
“You want to revoke ownership?” Kun asked and she nodded and soon looked at me. “How much for your tiger?” she asked and I scoffed. “You aren’t getting him,” I said and she smiled. “Honey, don’t you think he’ll give the kids such a good time?” she asked as the husband now looked at Hongjoong who tried his best to hide behind me.
“I can offer a hundred thousand?” he asked and I scoffed. “No,” I said and the wife’s eyes widened. “Oh please. Don’t you need the money?” she asked and I scoffed. “Look at his collar?” I heard the man whisper and the lady rolled her eyes. 
“Why does a stupid tacky collar matter at this moment?”
“His collar is a custom design. It costs a hundred thousand” I said and her eyes widened for a bit before rolling her eyes. “And how did you afford that? A kid like you can’t afford that without… selli–" "My name is y/n l/n '' I said and their eyes widened. “As in the daughter of the CEO?” the husband muttered and I smiled softly. “Yes, you wanna try again?” I asked and before the wife could say anything the man bowed. 
“I’m sorry, I didn–” “I want both of you to apologize to my hybrid,” I said and they looked at each other. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” the husband said while the wife refused. 
“I-I work with your parents you know?” he said and I laughed. “Maybe I’ll tell him to stop, come on Hongjoong. Bye Kun I hope they don’t cause too much trouble, if they do you have my number” I said as I left Hongjoong. I may not have the best nor closest relationship with my parents but I doubt they’d let their reputation hit a low if they heard that his wife was implying I sell–
“Thank you,” he said and I smiled. “I’d never let anyone treat any of you like that… I just feel bad for the two. They’re gonna be separated. You saw how desperate they were.” I said and he sighed clearly upset.
“I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if you decided to only adopt Seonghwa… even though I did ask you too,” Hongjoong confessed and I smiled. 
“You’ll never be separated from him”
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hongjoong's perspective
I felt pathetic hiding behind her… but she did defend me. I guess this is how Yeosang feels about his ex-owner. We finally went back to the apartment when I saw the familiar orange-eared fox tackle y/n in a hug. “I missed you!! You said it’d be fast!! Why’d you take hours!” he yelled and pouted.
“Angel!” I heard as I saw the familiar pointy-eared hybrid. 
“Is everything okay?” I heard as I saw Seonghwa… he looked at me worriedly. “Hmm? What is the tiny tiger upset about?” San said and I looked down. “Don’t tease him… Hongjoong don’t think about it too much okay? You did amazing today, thank you for saving me and my wallet” she said with a smile and I nodded.
“What happened?” “It's a long story”
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y/n’s perspective 
“Maybe the two hybrids ran away because they were gonna be separated,” Wooyoung suggested and I think he was right.
I saw how Hongjoong was being comforted by Seonghwa. The two got told to do circus tricks often… especially by kids and families when they were recognized. 
“Or they had snobby owners” Yeosang muttered and I sighed. “Even if that’s the case I already called my parents to not work with them anymore and even told Chenle to spread the word,” I said and Yeosang laughed.
“So what’ll happen to them?” San asked and I shrugged. “I guess they’ll retire early?” I said and the hybrids all laughed even though I did mean it.
I wasn’t gonna let them treat Hongjoong that way… not when he’s currently beating himself up for it and being comforted by his longest companion.  
“You should’ve taken the two hundred dollars back” Wooyoung suggested and I scoffed. 
“Trust me they'll need that money more than me,” I said and he chuckled. “Come on, we should eat before everything gets cold, '' Wooyoung said as everyone slowly went to the kitchen.
I looped my arm around Hongjoong’s side who smiled softly at me.
“Don’t worry, okay? I know you all want to protect me and you did! You got my wallet back and in return, I’ll protect you from people like that” I promised and I offered him a smile and kissed my head.
“Thank you, I’m lucky to have you”
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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silkscream · 3 months ago
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bullfight of love
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ੈ✩ choso x reader
ੈ✩ tags: flirting, masturbation, porn watching, vaginal sex, riding, soft sub!choso, 2000s au, coworkers, workplace relationship, film bro stuff
ੈ✩ wc: 4.7k
ੈ✩ a/n: i wanted to write choso being a weirdofreak pervert boy that's all. this is part of my fics for gaza <3 there will be a part two for this. do not ask me about a part two because it's already being made
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Maki could kill you for being late again. Five missed texts, the final exaggerated with periods and exclamation points – and she never used proper spelling, let alone punctuation. It wasn't serious the way she made it out to be. 
Toji never cared about your track record. The bastard was never in the shop anyway, probably high off his ass in whatever shed of a place he lived in. Maki already hated her cousin enough for the rest of the crew, running that stupid video store like it was a real family business. It was a summer job to you and nothing else.
She sighs when she sees you walk through the door, handing you your name tag without a word before fucking off to the storage room to look at the new shipments.
“Don’t give me the silent treatment!” you yell after her. In response, you only get a middle finger, chipped black nail polish with half a skeleton decal hanging on.
It’s always slow on Mondays. Considering the new cinema that opened across the street, it's slow every day. You should’ve taken a job there, scooping buckets of buttered popcorn instead of telling off porn-stached men who continually mistook the shop as the old adult video store. 
You mindlessly watch Reservoir Dogs on the CRTV, shaken by the sudden flood of middle school students paving their way to the used video game section. Fumbling with the remote, you meet a hard-faced Maki once again. 
“You can’t put on Tarantino, dude. Kids are in here.”
“It was already on,” you shrug. 
Maki rolls her eyes and points to a small stack by the register – some John Hughes VHS tapes. Sixteen Candles. The Breakfast Club. Most shit that both of you hated.
“Gotcha.”
“Can you deal with the new kid, today? Toji didn’t scan all the new shit in like he was supposed to last week.”
“New kid?”
“Uh, yeah. Goth-ish. Like he got spit out of a Hot Topic or something,” she snorts. “No hazing.”
“I should be saying that to you.”
She scoffs at you before rushing back. You’d had a crush on her when you started working there, back when she still had an eyebrow piercing before she let it get infected. She had that Silent Hill look about her for lack of better words. Resting bitch face with a raspy pout. 
Your head swims a little, pounding from dehydration. The morning joint didn’t help, either, nor did the fact that you had to train a newbie today. 
It’s quiet after the kids leave, snatching up some forbidden R-rated movie that’ll traumatize them during a basement sleepover. You nearly doze off once the clock hits three, but loud footsteps bring you back to life. 
A boy that couldn’t be much older than you stares into you, narrowed eyes boring into your soul. You see the dark birthmark across his nose first, as if someone had slashed him with a blade in one straight swoop. He smells like cigarettes and his eyes are decorated with some reddish eyeshadow. Either that or he had the complexion of a sickly Victorian child. 
“Hey,” you deadpan. “Can I help you?”
“I’m the new hire,” he says. His voice is low. He reminds you of the goths that would hit on you at high school parties. He's prettier, though. 
You give him a once-over quickly – he’s taller than you expect, for some reason, and you notice the blooming swirls of abstract tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves.
“You don’t sound so sure about that,” you smirk. 
He rolls his eyes and introduces himself. Choso. You repeat his name, tasting it on your tongue. He has half a mind to shake your hand but pulls away awkwardly. You take note of the silver rings adorning his fingers.
You tilt your head. “I like your, uh, space buns…”
“Uh, thanks,” he narrows his eyes.
“Okay, so… have you ever used a cash register?”
“Yes.”
“Great. That’s basically half the job.”
You show him the ropes – how to make sales and deal with teens. Cash drops and tracking inventory. You ask him what attracted him to the idea of working at a run-down video store and he says he likes movies and easy money. His brother liked the place, too. 
“You got the Human Earthworm series, boss?” he drones, bored.
“Yeah, think so. You like romance-horror or just terrible practical effects?”
He snorts. “My little brother likes it. Wants to have a marathon with me.”
“Cute.”
Hours pass and he’s gotten the hang of it. If anything, there are more customers than usual today, because you suppose that Choso is conspicuous in appearance and the teenage girls that hang around at the food court need something new to play with. 
It stirs something uneasy in your gut, the waft of saccharine perfume in the air. Girls with tongue piercings, lollipops staining their lips as they bend over the counter to talk to Choso. Ripe girls.
They probably thought he could buy them alcohol, take them for a joyride. He’d only offer them an aloof, blank stare in return. It makes you almost giddy. By the time night comes around, you tell them to fuck off like flies.
“Closing time.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Choso mock-salutes, an amused smirk on his lips. Half-lidded eyes like a cat, maybe a stoner, though he didn’t smell like it. You saw him on his break anyway, sipping down an Asahi Super Dry in the back as if you weren’t looking.
He already knew his place, knew that you wouldn’t rat him out. It was the way something flickered in his eyes when you caught him. A taunt, a quiet challenge. 
You watch him count cash. Chipped black fingernails looked odd on his veiny hands like they were painted in a rush by a child. You notice scrawled pen on his pale skin. Smudged phone numbers.
“Getting hit on already?”
He glances at you and shrugs, hiding a smile. “Half were just from bored teenagers. Other half bored single mothers.”
“Any takers?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
You narrow your eyes. 
“Ha. Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not,” you snort. “As long as we get customers I guess.”
“Oof. You’re cold. You don’t care how I get these people to buy these movies as long as they buy ‘em, huh?”
“You’re not whoring yourself out by being a cashier. Relax.”
He shrugs on his jacket. Crumpled leather, the kind that held the smell of smoke over generations. It made him look like Takuya Kimura in that way, maybe if his hair was down.
He grins when he finds you staring.
“We done for the night, then, boss?”
You roll your eyes at the nickname. “Uh-huh. Night, newbie.”
He smiles sardonically, looking out and noticing the rain. He curses inwardly, knowing that skating home would be a bitch, and the next bus to his side of town wasn’t for another half hour. He clears his throat.
“Leaving already?”
“Yeah. What, don’t have a ride home, kiddo?”
“Fuck off. I’m not a damn kid. I’m just not someone with a car,” Choso mutters dryly. “I work at a movie rental place for a living. I take the bus everywhere.”
“Sucks to suck then,” you smirk, saluting him goodbye. You throw him the keys. “I trust you to lock up then, yeah? See ya.”
He lets out a frustrated scoff but doesn’t bother to convince you, opting to watch you go. Once you’re out of reach, he sighs and turns, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking around the dim store. 
Yuuji was probably out with that sea urchin–haired punk again. He had to remind himself to save up for a car instead of constantly having to share their parents’ beat-up Toyota.
He could take advantage of the shitty TV in the office, maybe. Watch a stupid re-run while he waits, because he sure as hell isn’t going to wait out in the rain. He walks in and settles on the black leather couch straight out of an amateur porno. He snorts and looks through a fat stack of DVDs in the corner. 
His mouth twists when he picks up something with a racy title. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s an adult film.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, scoffing. He lets out a low whistle, glancing around the office as if someone’s out there, ready to jump him. It’s eerily quiet. He can’t even hear the pitter-patter of rain from in here.
He skims the back cover. It looks crude, but Choso has never really been one to turn down something raunchy. He liked stupid movies, gory ones, art films with weird unsimulated sex. He’d gotten off to In the Realm of the Senses when he was thirteen. Skimming through something this cheap shouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t arouse him — it would be as entertaining and silly as watching a sitcom for him.
He inserts the disc into the DVD player and waits for it to load. There are no cameras in the office, he notices. Figures. The way you talked about the owner made it seem like the place was barely being held together if not for you.
And then, he thinks of you. He immediately thought you were pretty, not that he’d ever let you know that. Plainer than his usual type, but something was alluring about the curve of your mouth, the way you spoke. He liked that you didn’t take shit most of all. It was probably the hottest thing about you.
He knew better than to fuck around with a coworker, however. It never ended well and resulted in petty drama. He was too old for that shit, wasn’t in high school anymore — he was a man.
When the intro to the film finally loads, a woman in a skimpy, barely-there dress appears on the screen. It’s something vintage, for sure, given the grain. She’s in a love hotel. 
Choso fast-forwards through blurs of messy kissing, colored lights illuminating a heart-shaped tub. He pauses on a frame of the girl riding, her mouth wide open in ecstasy. He presses play.
After about ten minutes, he finds himself in a trance watching with rapt attention at the way the actress moves. His cock twitches when he realizes that she looks a little too much like you. 
She moans particularly loudly and his mouth parts. Something snaps inside of him. 
He has to pause it again. Jesus.
Choso feels like a pervert. No, he’s a man with urges, needs. It’s a pure coincidence that the actress in the porno looks like you of all people. It’s not like he sought her out himself. A movie like this shouldn’t even be in here.
He grits his teeth, hands clenching around the couch leather until his knuckles are white. He takes a breath before pressing play again and his eyes widen when the girl gets even louder.
Ah, fuck it.
He mutters under his breath, shifting on the couch. Glances at the blowjob lips on the screen, soft and plush. He thinks of you and swallows. He bites his cheek, conflicted.
Maybe he shouldn’t.
Then again, no one has to know.
He lets out a shaky exhale, trying to resist the pressure building inside him. It feels like trying to contain a geyser with a cup, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. 
After contemplating for a beat, he sighs and unbuttons the fly of his jeans, using his other hand to press play again. A gasp escapes his lips as he watches the girl on the screen. The curve of her back, the bounce of her tits. She looks soft. He wonders if you’d be as —
No. No. He’s not doing that.
He spits in his hand and strokes himself, his breathing starting to come out in short, uneven pants. There’s a rush of heat in his gut as he watches. His head tilts back slightly, eyes roaming the ceiling before closing them as he attempts to calm himself down. It’s no use.
His breath hitches, eyes glued to the screen. He’s memorized by the slick flowing out of her. Fuck, he hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. It’s killing him.
It’d be okay if he pretended it was you. It’s not like you would find out. He could imagine fucking your face the way the guy was doing right now in the video, making the bitch gag and moan. Whimpering at being called a good girl. 
“Oh, god–” he mutters, his voice a strangled gasp. She really did look like you. Disturbingly so. When he’s done, he’ll have to wash his hands for five minutes straight from the shame. 
He pants, his grip on himself firm as he squeezes his shaft. Precum smears over his tip and he groans at the sound of the woman’s whimpers getting louder and louder. It makes his lungs seize. He’s getting close.
He doesn’t even register the jingling of the doorknob.
Choso’s head jerks up, his eyes widening in shock as his head turns to see you in the doorway blinking at him. 
“Oh.”
His throat’s dry. What a cruel fucking joke from the universe. There’s no coming back from this. Not when the video’s still going and he’s still half dressed, hand on his fly in mortification.
You tilt your head, smirking. “Nice cock.”
Choso’s at a loss for words, staring at you with embarrassment and utter daze. What the fuck?
“I, uh…” he chokes out, his voice rough and more high-pitched than usual. Face burning. 
He’s going to get fired. No – he has to quit before you even get another word in, save the little dignity he has, maybe convince Yuuji to move to another shitty town with him so he never has to see you again —
“Forgot my wallet,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
You walk into the room, peering at him. Your eyes fall on the TV, which is still going. The moans feel cheap and tacky now that he’s back in reality. 
Choso scrambles to press the stop button on the remote, his other hand moving to put a pillow on top of his leaking dick. His eyes flicker wildly between your face and the screen.
“You find that in here?”
“Uh… yeah… I, um—”
You snort. “Forgot to tell you that this used to be an adult video store.”
“That explains the selection,” he mutters sheepishly. 
You eye him carefully. He blushes. “Didn’t finish?” you taunt.
He feels too fucking humiliated to say anything, so he mutely nods instead. He fumbles with the zipper of his jeans underneath the pillow.
“Need some help?”
He gapes at you for a moment before looking away. You look amused as you scan his face. Was he hearing you correctly? Was he dreaming?
“Are you— are you offering?” he gasps out, dumbfounded. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that in here.”
Choso’s jaw drops. 
He stares at you for a moment at a loss for words. Curiosity begins to win out over embarrassment.
“With… who?”
“None of your business,” you chuckle.
He doesn’t like that answer. His jaw clenches, knowing that it’s stupid that it hurts his ego a bit for no reason at all. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t press the issue as his gears turn back to your previous offer.
“Then you… uh… want to…? With me?”
“You want to, right?”
He swallows nervously, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks at your body shamelessly for a bit. He’s still so fucking hard. Finally, he nods shyly.
“Okay. Take your clothes off, then.”
For a moment, he wants to protest. This is the last thing he expects from you. Maybe it was a blackmail situation — if he doesn’t let you fuck him, would you fire him? 
He realizes that he doesn’t care either way if he gets to fuck you.
He pushes his jeans down with his boxer briefs, shoves the pillow in his lap away with a blush. Slowly, he strips off his t-shirt, leaving him completely exposed. He can feel your gaze on him, raking his chest and arms, the tattoos on his skin. He looks up at you again almost desperately. 
“I meant it,” you drawl. “You do have a nice cock.”
“Th-thanks…” he croaks. 
“Why so nervous?” you tease. “You were flirting with me all day.”
“Yeah, but–” he mutters, huffing defensively. “I didn’t think you’d actually—”
“Wanna fuck you?” you finish for him.
You say it so bluntly that it catches him off guard. He hadn’t really given it too much thought. You were somewhat receptive to his advances if he could call it that. It was mostly him being himself. His sarcasm was meant to be flirting, but none of it was that serious. He found you hot and interesting. He liked that you could keep up with him. 
When he started touching himself with you in mind, everything was thrown out the window. He wanted you, and would probably dream about you when he got home, but the guilt and shame of doing something so depraved in his place of work made him embarrassed. He wouldn’t have been able to face you on his next shift, and then you decided to barge in and ruin everything. 
And now, you’re offering yourself to him on a silver platter. It was absurd.
He narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”
“I think you’re hot. Isn’t that enough?” 
“You… you actually wanna… uh–”
“Yeah, Choso,” you roll your eyes. “I wanna fuck you.”
He shifts on the couch, eyes roaming hungrily over your body as his breaths grow labored. He swallows a lump in his throat.
“Then… do it,” he mumbles.
You grin, moving to straddle his lap. His hands flex and he has to remember to not appear so eager. This is just a casual hookup with a coworker. One born out of bizarre circumstances, sure, but he needs to play it cool. He grips the edge of the couch.
“Don’t wanna touch me?”
He feels even more meek, if that was possible. He hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows. He’d had girls in his lap before. Bouncing them on his cock until they cried. For some reason, he feels like the submissive one here just because you’re on top of him. 
“Uh,” he stammers. His voice is quiet, nervous. You think it’s cute. “I didn’t know if I was, uh, allowed to—”
“Go ahead.”
He holds back from kissing you. Instead, he smoothes his large hands over your hips, the curve of your waist. He lifts his hands to the edge of your shirt and hooks his fingers into the hem, slowly tugging it upwards. The reveal of skin is tantalizing, makes his mouth water like a man stranded in a desert. 
Sparks jolt the length of his spine as his fingers brush over the bare skin of your stomach. Fuck, you’re soft. He knew you would be. He pulls the shirt over your head and ogles stupidly at your chest. 
“Someone’s worked up,” you tease, playing with his hair. You undo his buns, leaving his hair down.
“Of course I am,” he mutters, his voice strained. “You’re sitting on my lap, looking like that—”
“Can I kiss you?”
His eyes widen. 
“Please,” he breathes. It almost comes out like a desperate whine. “I mean— yeah—”
You raise a brow, laughing. It makes his face heat up down to his neck. 
“Begging already? Thought you’d be more of a dominant type.”
You’ve thought about me?
“I— I am,” he grumbles. 
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you prove it later.” You lean in.
“Promise?” He looks at you with something eager in his gaze and your eyes soften. 
“Mhm.”
Finally, he captures your lips with his. You sigh into it and it makes his cock throb underneath you. He takes that as an invitation, his tongue immediately pushing past the plush of your lips. He reaches up to grab the back of your head and tangles his fingers in your hair as if he’s done it all before. It makes you moan a little in his mouth.
He moans back, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. You pull back slightly, leaving him to chase your lips for a moment as he lets out a small huff of protest. When you look at him, his eyes are half-lidded, lips slightly parted and shiny with spit.
“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. “Real pretty.”
He flushes, unable to form words. His expression immediately floods with disappointment when you get off his lap to stand. 
“Where are you going?” His voice would be whiny if it wasn’t so gruff from desire. 
“Relax, idiot.” You unbutton your pants, sliding them down slowly. He assumes you’re teasing him, which he doesn’t particularly mind. You’re a sight to behold. His cock twitches as his eyes look at your smooth thighs. 
“Get over here,” he huffs. You laugh, moving to straddle him. 
He doesn’t have time to react before you lean in to immediately nip at his neck. He lets out a moan, hips bucking involuntarily. You can feel his pulse quickening, the vibration of his moans underneath your lips. 
“Fuck,” he gasps. His fingernails dig into the meat of your waist. 
He can’t stay still. It takes him everything in him to not rock his hips up into you. It doesn’t help that he can already feel your wet heat hovering over his cock. His brain nearly short-circuits. He preens under you, grabbing at you like you’re going to fly away. 
“Be patient. Wanna play with you first,” you mumble.
Choso’s eyes flutter closed as you speak. You sound so fucking sexy right now, he can’t stand it. It’s better than the stupid filler plot he scrubbed through in that damn porno. Miles better. 
“Play with me,” he grits. “Fuck — later.”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot you were pregaming this before I walked in.”
He glares at you. It’s entertaining watching the expression melt off his face when you lift your hips and immediately slam down on him. The moan he lets out is guttural. His hands immediately find your hips.
“Hah – fuck,” you breathe. “You’re bigger than you look.”
Choso lets out a strangled chuckle, head falling back on the couch. It makes him look even hotter, the way his tattoos flex with his collarbone. 
“Told you I wasn’t a kid.”
Your laugh tapers off into a moan when he gives a small, tentative roll of his hips. Testing the waters. You’re so fucking tight that it’s making it hard for him to even think. When he hears you gasp at being filled by him completely, his eyes widen.
“Shit,” he gasps. “Wanna make you do that again—”
“H-Huh?”
His eyes lock on your face as he grins, grinding into you slowly. 
“That noise–” he groans, his throat taut and dry. “You made this little gasp—”
“Ah–”
“There it is,” he snickers. His eyes gleam. “Just like that.”
Your eyes roll back, mirroring the roll of his cock inside you. Your cunt clenches around him and it feels like fucking heaven. He can feel all your wetness drool into his lap. He had the urge to push you into the leather, cant his hips up like something rabid. 
It feels like his brain was going to fall out of his nose, the head rush in tandem with the blood pumping into his cock. Impossible tightness. Snug cunt, petals closing into a bud. 
When you wrap your arms around him, it almost feels romantic. It’s dangerous.
He kisses you, then. Quivers when he feels you getting lost in it, tasting nicotine in your swapped spit. He whimpers as you start to move your hips with more intention. You smile wryly at his reaction, pulling away, eyes fixed on where your bodies meet.
You’re a fucking wet dream while you’re riding him. The way your hair brushes messily over your jawline, the way your mouth parts with a gasp every time he feels you pulsate on his cock. Choso grabs your ass greedily and kneads it, mesmerized at the softness of your flesh. 
“God, you look so fucking good right now—”
His eyes flash as he watches you move. He tries to match your tempo, rutting up into you with frenzied effort. His cheeks are flushed as he nearly unravels himself for you, his expression raw and hungry. He leans in to suck on your tongue, descending his wet mouth down to your jaw, your tits. Oral fixation.
You can feel him deep in your stomach, buried in you. It’s as if he could pierce you through the throat. You’re sure that you’ll ache everywhere by the time you get home. You’d never taken a cock quite this big, never been this wet, your insides swirling around like a washing machine. Your guts all muddled with something that felt too warm for just lust.
“So fucking hot,” he mumbles, hands pressing into your bare thighs. 
All his preoccupations with you had disappeared. He didn’t care if you thought he was a pervert, since you were one too, in a way. Letting him fuck you like this when he barely knew you at all, yet a repressed part of his brain made his heart flutter at the thought of you. It didn’t help that he could practically feel your heartbeat with his cock.
It isn’t romance — it has to be the sex. He can’t think about it too much right now. Not when he’s in a state of delirium inside your cunt.
“Choso, I’m close,” you whine.
“Yeah?” he rasps. “Fuck, me too.” 
His hair is tousled and sticky. Eyes glazed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He grabs at your hips, guiding them to grind on him faster. Your wetness makes it all so smooth — all buttery, no resistance. You feel full.
He feels like he’s being squeezed to death, to heaven. It sends him over the edge at the same time he feels your pussy clench around him. You tremble in waves as you gasp out a moan. It’s more like a choked breath. He can’t stop watching you as you come, the way your eyes roll back. 
A whine escapes his throat as he cums. Everything that seeps out is slick, feels like something new and primordial at once. Seraphic, he’d say, if he happened to be drunk. He certainly feels drunk.
Choso doesn’t expect you to kiss him so sweetly after such a vulgar affair. He lets out a long exhale into your mouth with eyes closed, letting his head fall back a little while your hands cup his cheeks. His body is all melted limbs, languid sex. 
“Jesus,” he mutters. 
“Hey.”
He opens his eyes and gazes at you through sleepy lids. He lifts a hand lazily, brushing the hair away from your face.
“Yeah?”
“Did you pick an actress that looked like me on purpose?”
He freezes. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks away.
“No,” he scoffs. “Just thought she was hot—”
You chuckle.
“I didn’t pick it, I found it,” he gruffs. “I’ll admit that… she looks like you… I guess.”
“Was I as good?” 
He scoffs again, his eyes flashing with a mix of playfulness and irritation. You were as much of a little shit as he was.
“You’re better,” he rolls his eyes. “I already told you what I think, dumbass. Real pretty.”
“Oh, did you?”
There’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I’d be pretty pissed if you weren’t better than some stupid video—”
“Idiot. Those girls are probably like, Olympians at fucking. Porn isn’t like real sex anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grins. He pauses for a moment, suddenly looking timid. “It’s just… a decent placeholder for when I… y’know.”
“Just call me next time.”
Choso’s eyes widen slightly, unable to hide his surprise. He sputters for a second.
“What? I’m, uh— not gonna call you every time I—” he groans, “That’ll be way too many times.”
You raise a brow.
“Wait, no— that came out wrong. I’m not some horny freak or something—”
“I mean, given how I found you…”
“That’s—” he stammers, unable to complete a sentence without his brain completely blacking out every millisecond. “That was a one-time thing.”
“Hope so. I don’t wanna fire you, newbie,” you grin.
His pulse quickens at your smile. 
“Like hell, you will. You’re too understaffed to fire me.”
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PART TWO
365 notes · View notes
mrs-monaghan · 1 month ago
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Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.
I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.
Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.
Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.
I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬 you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.
I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?
NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!
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Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!
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Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.
And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.
You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂
You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.
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Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺
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missingininaction · 3 days ago
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alright, friends, i might say something you don't like but i think it's important. not just to defend a character, but because i think this is literally making people's experience and relationship with this game worse.
give jimmy like two seconds to exist.
by hating jimmy so much you refuse to even say his name, and judge real, living people for liking him, you are cheapening your experience by boiling down the main character to the most ~yuckiest~ moments. and, by not making a seperate space for hating on him, you are drowning out the voices of people who actually have nuanced things to say about his character. you know, the skilled writers and artists that feed the fandom? limitation is what kills fandoms, you have to know that.
is jimmy a good person? no. is he a good captain/companion/worker? Absolutely Not! he crumbles like dust under any pressure and he immediately shifts blame off of himself, he is an actively harmful individual and it's right to be upset by his actions. i literally had to stop myself from saying "man FUCK jimmy." multiple times because i didn't want to spoil how terrible he got to my friends when i showed the game to them.
but you have to understand; people are more than their actions. thats part of the entire point of the game. thats why its so abstract. you are meant to think about the nuances of their situation.
we can agree that anya was way more as a woman than what happened to her and what she did as a result of it, right? that despite her best efforts, she was a victim of circumstance, and she deserves to be understood and analyzed fully?
then why, seeing a fictional man who has done immoral things, are you so disgusted you won't even draw, write or discuss him outside of hate? what is that doing for you, to ignore literally the main character of the game because of his actions?
now, this is not to say people can't hate jimmy. i understand it! as someone who has been a victim of s/a and abuse, i understand if you hate him and are even triggered by him to the point of avoiding mention of him. (but...why are you in this fandom? ((not aggressive im genuinely asking)))
you can feel however you want about any character, my goal is not to control people. but i thought it was common knowledge to not hatepost about someone in their tag? over actual insight into his character and, you know, the main themes of the game?
jimmy is a man who has struggled his whole life. both him and curly confirm that in the game. he's unable to control his emotional outbursts, and he likely had no idea what to expect from being in fucking SPACE for over a year with people he probably didn't even know before that trip. and pony express and their corporate safety corner cutting certainly didnt help, did it?
for one reason or another, he most likely was never actually taught how to manage his emotions. that's just how it is sometimes, growing up as a man. and it would make sense if he was forced to deal with everything himself, no? he always complains, but he still says he'll handle it. because that's what he's always had to do. and this is just the start of what i could say about what made him the way that he is.
he's a victim too, not only of his own actions.
surprise surprise, people who do awful things can also be victims.
honestly, this entire situation baffles me. how are you going to avoid one of the main characters of the game, let alone the one you play as ninety percent of the time? mind you, curly is also guilty, and i am happy to see at least some people giving him space for nuance. because he is also a victim!!! why is it so impossible to see jimmy as nuanced, when literally every other character also has incredible depth to them??
you're tarnishing and spitting on the beautiful writing of this game just because one character is too icky for you to feel comfortable thinking about for too long. it's horror, you absolute morons. it's supposed to make you uncomfortable.
if you hate jimmy, i dont blame you. but please, please, make your own space for it. be kind to people who want to explore jimmy and the darker themes, and like him for what his character represents. this is a video game fandom, not a witch hunt. and please, learn some fandom etiquette while you're at it, okay? okay. thank you
also just say his name. its not a slur youre not gonna go to hell if you say jimmy. like this isn't as important but still it just feels like a microcosm of this whole thing.
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thegnomelord · 1 year ago
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sof and cute hcs of eldritch reader trying to learn how to people (and maybe some raunchy ones about learning how human "mating" works) hhhhnnnngggh
Imagine Learning To Be Human
CW: SFW and NSFW First TF141 with SFW, then NSFW headcannons, sexting, masturbation, sex toys, morning after (no sex), sexual nudity, nonsexual nudity, implied poly141. GN reader, 500-900 words for each blurb, so somewhere around 5.5k words. Imma be quiet for the next week or so as I prepare for an exam so I'm feeding ya'll :Dd
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Imagine SOAP— It's safe to say you're not the best with expressing what you think, especially not in this hollowed out corpse a tiny fraction of your consciousness inhabits. The more you try, the less human your attempts come out, only remembering that humans don't bend that way or don't do something after you've done it. You find yourself gravitating to Soap because he is the opposite of you, so open and responsive like an open book.
Imagine; observing Soap as he tries to piece together the fragments of a bomb, muttering curses under his breath as if the object had just called football 'soccer'. He's so concentrated he forgets the rest of the world exists, oblivious to you sitting across from him. But that's not a problem as it gives you a chance to watch and try to mimic what his face does; the slight hint of teeth as he nibbles on his lip, the furrow of his brows, the tenseness of his jaw pulling on his throat muscles…
You try to mimic every emotion he goes through as he tries and fails and succeeds and fails again to fit the pieces together like a jigsaw, but the hardest one to do is that smile of his. For some reason you just can't get it right, lips pulling back too far, teeth too much on display and brows too furrowed so you end up looking like an old savage.
Then as if to spite you, Soap looks up at you and immediately snorts. "What're yea doin' there Bonnie?" He coughingly laughs as your facial features return to your statue like state.
"Trying to look like you." You huff; at least you can do that correctly.
"Oh, look strapping don't I?" He snorts, doing what Ghost calls 'fishing for compliments' (though you're unsure how one can fish for abstract ideas).
"No more than the rest." You shrug and see him roll his eyes, though the corners of his lips are still quirked up, a hint of teeth on display and vestiges of dimples framing his mouth. "How do I do that?" You ask and motion to his face.
"Do what? Smile?" You snorts, already beckoning you over like you're a dog. "It's easy."
You lean across the table, tilting your head to indicate confusion but leaving your face a blank canvas. It takes all of your presence of mind not to give an earth shattering purr when his hands cup your jaw, distant stars quivering as his blunt nails scratch at your throat for a blissful second.
"Here," His thumbs settle at both corners of your lips, putting gentle pressure until he pushes the flesh back and up in a way that's natural to the skin suit but not you. "There yea go." He grins and pulls his thumbs away after a few moments, grinning when you hold the expression.
"Now yea're as dashing as me." He chuckles and you two must look like utter buffoons just grinning at one another; you wouldn't have it any other way.
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Imagine GAZ — You're not exactly alive, technically you're the antithesis to life and existence, so to you, simple rules like eating or sleeping are no more than chalk guidelines after a rainstorm. Gaz doesn't subscribe to this idea, he's always trying to get you to indulge in these human comforts and you always allow him, even if it does include eating more things in a week than most of your kin have consumed in a millennia, if that.
Imagine; wandering the halls on a lazy Sunday morning, no drills to run or missions to prep for, and being drawn to the communal kitchen by the sound of boiling water and banding pans. You find Gaz cooking breakfast for the boys; he's the only one who can cook (according to him) seeing as Price seasons his food with hope, Ghost burns everything into coal and Soap's not allowed into the kitchen after he'd tried to make tea in the microwave (which Gaz had later asked you to exorcise).
"Mornin'." Kyle yawns and smiles at you, dressed in shorts and one of your 'lost' shirts. You do your best to replicate his expression. "Help me, yeah?" He asks and nods his head at what he's cooking.
Your expression falls back to neutral. "You'll need to show me how." You admit as you get next to him.
"Not a problem," He chuckles as he shifts behind you, pressing his chest flush with your back with his hands hovering over yours. You feel his warmth when he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands firm and steady as he shows you how to chop tomatoes and sausages, how to hold the knife correctly and pulling your fingers back when the blade draws too close to the flesh, talking you through it until you can do it on your own.
After that he leaves you to your task as he almost dances around the kitchen, stirring a pot here then putting the kettle on there and so many more little things while you remain where you are because you, by nature, are slow; to adapt, to age, to change.
But you do it for him.
"Those look great." He grins when you're done and then herds you in front of the cooking pans, and you're a little apprehensive about the bubbling oil when he dumps what you'd cut up into the pan. But his warmth is at your back again, steady hands guiding you on how to cook the food without burning your skin and leaving you to it when you catch on.
Then you feel a tug on your shirt, his presence once again next to you, but this time he's holding a piece of sausage on the end of a fork, a hand beneath it so it doesn't drop, "Hey, taste this for me."
You contemplate arguing you can't actually taste food the same way he does, but he gives you a look that has you letting him feed you. Though it tastes no different from everything else, from his hand it may as well be sweeter than ambrosia.
"Tastes good." The way he brightens up at your words makes the food only taste sweeter.
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Imagine GHOST —You and him are similar in some ways, you both prefer to stick to what you know, who you know. It's harder for you to contain what you are inside your flesh body when there is so much life around you that every additional heartbeat pulls at the edge of your cold existence. So you stick to close to the people who's warmth has grown so familiar it's indistinguishable from the burning starts making up your real body.
Imagine; attending a celebration held by both TF141 and Los Vaqueros after a mission gone well, loud music and lewd lyrics blaring in your ears as men drink like teenagers at their first frat party. You're in a more secluded part of the bar next to Ghost, both of you nursing drinks while you watch the rest act like fools.
You're a little confused when you see Gaz and Soap move in a strange way, grinding against one another and pressed so close you'd think they're trying to mate, their hands roaming the other's body so roughly you're surprised no pieces of clothing come flying your way.
"Got a free show for my drink." Ghost chuckles next to you.
"What are they doing?" You finally ask when you can't contain your curiosity.
"Dancing." He answers and swallows the last inch of booze in his cup, setting it down on the bar. "For fun." He adds, already expecting the line of questioning, as if that's supposed to make you understand.
"They just look like they're trying to mate." You point out, receiving a long sigh in return.
"How 'bout I just show you." Before you can say anything he nicks the cup of untouched alcohol in your hand and swallows it all down in one go, putting the empty cup next to his before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you outside through the back entrance. You go along with him, but you're confused when you catch Soap's eyes and he wolf whistles at the two of you.
The world outside is calmer than the busy bar, the air much colder; closer to what you are. You turn to him once he lets you go, tilting your head and furrowing your brow to convey confusion. "So…what do I do?"
"Just follow my lead." A gravely chuckle escapes Simon as he closes the distance between you two, his rough hands settling on your waist as he begins to slowly rock both of your bodies along with the music, though his movements are more contained than what you'd seen, a steady push and pull compelling you to follow him.
"Why is this different than what Soap and Gaz were doing?" You ask, clutching his shoulders in return, your forehead almost resting on his chest as you look at your feet so you don't step on his toes.
You feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles, "They set a low bar." He rumbles and his hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up so you two lock eyes, the intensity in his brown irises drowning out the sounds of the bar. "Eyes on me."
You nod. Your eyes stay firmly on him as you sway together to a tune he hums, finding a common ground in the way your cold and his heat mixes together. Above you millions of your eyes peer down at him, for as vast as you are, for this moment your attention is on him.
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Imagine PRICE — He can tell how tired you are, not physically but mentally; having to communicate and understand people without the use of a mental link, when even the most complex ideas can be conveyed easily, was starting to fray the edges of your control over your human body. He decided to do something about it.
Imagine; Price taking you and the boys fishing to a remote cabin next to a lake. Knowing you don't sleep he pulls you out by the lake at the ass crack of dawn, having you watch as he sits down on the dock, his pants pulled up to his knees so he can dip his feet in the water while he sets up the fishing rods.
"What are we doing?" You ask but follow his example and sit next to him, the cool water of the lake similar enough to the cold abyss your true body resides to calm your nerves, though you're unsure of what to do when he gives you the fishing rod.
"Fishing." He says as he shows you how to cast out the line. "You look like you need it."
You don't argue with him and just try focusing on fishing, letting him teach you how to watch the line to see when something takes the bait and when to reel it in. You’re unsuccessful your first few attempts, and you have half the mind to just jump in and wrangle the fish in the lake with liquid abyss, but he stops you.
"Catching isn't the point." He says as he smokes his cigar while he takes an old boot off your hook. "It's about relaxing, the fish are just a bonus."
You let out a low sound that vibrates the water, but you settle next to him and cast out the line again. You don’t know how long you sit there next to him, your sides touching with the fishing rod sitting loosely in your hands. After some time you manage to yank out your first fish, and you certainly don't gloat when you pull a few more fish out of the lake while he only pulls out seaweed, but the look of pride in his eyes makes it even better.
Any prospects of catching any more fish are dashed when Gaz and Soap wake up and take running jumps into the lake, scaring all the fish with their splashing. "Like school boys." Price remarks as Ghost comes up to you both, offering beers as he sits down on your other side.
"Summer vacation, captain." Ghost says and slips into the water, and you realize this is calming; in the way you haven't felt before, doing something familiar like watching Soap and Gaz trying to dunk each other in the water but feeling like you’re right there with them, laughing alongside them when Ghost scares the shit out of them by lunging out of the water.
“See sweetheart? ‘S not hard.” Price hums, adjusting his hat though his shoulders are already reddened from sunburns. He offers you his cigar and you accept it, breathing in the nicotine and smoke despite not having lungs or a circulatory system to be affected by it, before you give it back. “Taking it easy is good for you.”
You nod your head, content to sit next to him until something tugs on the line of your forgotten fishing rod and you scramble to reel it in. You give a small grunt as whatever is on the hook struggles, "Yank on it." Price tells you and you do, nearly toppling on your back when you finally win the tug of war. You blink as you look at what you've caught.
A Speedo.
"Well would you look at that." Price chuckles.
Judging by the way Johnny's suddenly bare assed and throwing obscenities in Gaelic your way, you assume that it's his.
“Caught a big one there.” Ghost notes, not yet laughing but his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he slaps Soap's cheeks (of his rear).
He yelps, confident enough to be naked in front of all of you, but not shameless enough to where his cheeks (on his face) don't redden from the way Gaz cackles and wheezes with laughter so loudly he nearly drowns. You give Johnny back his trunks before he can drown Gaz but, maybe you should fish any more.
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NSFW:
Imagine SOAP— If anyone ever asks Soap why he would ever send a dick pick to an ancient god, he'll blame anything and everything; on being stood up, on loving himself a little less, on mixing up the numbers, in being black out drunk…
Imagine; him being stone cold sober when the thought invades his mind and he spends the next hour trying to take a good picture: in front of the mirror, on the bed, no clothes, some clothes, the list of positions goes on. He doesn't want to come across like he's compensating by just holding his dick in his hand like some cunt; as silly as it is, he wants the picture to actually tempt you, to make you feel something, though the question of if you even can doesn't cross his mind. He ends up with a picture of him on the bed, the tip of his hard cock peeking out from beneath the band of his boxers.
He won’t admit he holds his breath when he sends the suggestive picture to you alongside a ;) , watching the text bubble appear and disappear multiple times before you just leave him on seen. He deflates and has half the mind to delete the picture and chuck his phone to the other end of his bed but he’s stopped when he gets a message from Price.
‘My office. Now.’
Turns out you were with Price when you saw that photo and without a second thought had shown him it and asked what it meant. Granted Price had seen more than just his dick, but he was less than happy about Johnny sending you unsolicited dick pics.
You quiz Soap for nearly an hour, stone faced and unbothered while he gets redder with every question (what can you send, what not to send, how much to send, etc.) and he gets the impression that's how his ma' felt when she gave him and his sisters 'the talk'. “So, yeah.” He clears his throat, whole face feeling hot. “Don’t do it ‘lest yea’r asked or yea like ‘em.”
Thankfully Price finally lets you go when you’re satisfied with his answers and Soap can’t scamper fast enough out of his office with his whole face in flames.
He deletes the photo soon after but you've already burned it into your memory where it will outlast the stars, and the idea to reciprocate festers in your ageless mind like rot until you find yourself in front of your mirror after a shower. You play with the phone for a long time, snapping a few blurry close up shots of your face while you attempt to change it from the front to the back facing camera.
It takes even longer to figure out what to send as Soap wasn't that clear with his answers. Your siblings give you pointers, and first you attempt to take a picture of your most private part — bones snap as your rib cage splits open into a maw, vines full of eyes wrapping around your ribs like ivy as tendrils of darkness unwind just enough for the anti-light of your very essence sucks up all the light in the room — but the mirror cracks and your phone just shuts off with a pitiful whimper.
After fixing the mirror you end up doing what you do best; you mimic one of the statues you'd seen the Greeks make, the towel wrapped just along the V where your thighs connect to your pelvis, exposed from the waist up with your skin still wet. Your body isn't as demure as the muses that sculptor had used, but you hope Soap will appreciate it as you snap a few more photos and send them to Johnny with the same ;) he'd sent you.
Soap nearly chokes on his spit when he gets the photo, all the blood in his brain flooding south as his eyes rake over every exposed inch of skin, every curve and every dip in the muscles making him drool and cock harden and he's racing to your room before you even have the time to turn your phone off.
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Imagine GAZ — For all of your pitfalls and misunderstandings he likes the little hints of inhumanity in your speech, in your mannerisms, in knowing you could be anywhere and anytime but you choose to be next to him. He couldn't imagine himself being enamored with an ant, yet you hang on his every word like he's revealing secrets you don't know, making him feel special; he feels so bad when his thoughts of you stop being innocent.
Imagine; He tries to keep things respectful, but his imagination runs wild when you do the simplest things. Bend down to tie your shoe? He's checking out your arse from the corner of his eyes. Stand behind him? He's suppressing a shiver just imagining your body draped over his in post-coital bliss. Check his skin for injuries? Gaz has to bite his lip to keep from begging you to touch all of him, to explore his body. Work out? Kyle's lucky if he doesn't start drooling imagining going over and licking the sweat off your skin, of feeling your muscles tense beneath his tongue while you continue to work out with him between your legs.
When he can't think of you without popping a boner he ends up having to compromise before the shame eats him whole. He goes on a random porn site; he usually prefers just using his imagination but when his mind keeps circling back to you he has no other option, and his conscience gnaws on him when he ends up finding a porn star with similar features to yours. It's not wrong if he's wanking off to a different person, right?
Heat's already burning in his stomach when he slouches in his chair, his back to his room and one earbud in his ear. Shame continues to eat at him when he's both delighted and disheartened by the fact the porn star sounds nothing like you, that his bones don't shiver like they do when you talk.
He keeps the volume low and instead focuses on rubbing and squeezing his cock the way the porn star does to a second actor, and he can't help imagining what you'd sound like; high pitched and whiny? Husky and low? Completely silent or animalistic? The idea of pulling sounds of pleasure out of your throat has him leaking. His head lolls back and he moans as he squeezes the base of his cock, his eyes open just enough to blur the fine details on the porn star's face so you two become indistinguishable.
His heart stops when you burst through his door, a random question leaving your lips before your ears pick up the moans and slick sounds coming from his direction. You're next to him in an instant, looming over his chair and caging him in with your eyes stuck to the screen. "What are you watching?"
"Get out!" He yelps and tries to push you away but it's like trying to move a mountain.
"Why does that human look like my vessel?" You persist, "And why are you watching humans mating when you told me it's wrong?" You tilt your head, luckily not seeing his hand on his hard cock, the porn reflecting in the blacks of your eyes.
“It’s on the net it’s different! People upload it for others' pleasure and-” He sputters and cuts himself off when he registers your words, freezing in place and that accidentally gets him to squeeze the head of his cock.
Your pupils widen like a cat’s when you hear the little moan escape his chest, your head automatically dropping down to see where his other hand is. "Oh,” is what comes out of your mouth when you see his hard weeping cock. “Can I?” You ask, making an odd motion with your head.
He thinks you're asking to leave and nods. "Yeah-" Gaz wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, his cheeks burning red like he's a lobster in a pot. “-can you pl-please leave-”
He wheezes when your cold hand suddenly wraps around his cock, your hold firm and just at the edge of pain but still making him throb. A few more eyes spread across your skin to see him while you watch the video still playing on his computer, giving his cock a small pump and shaking the stars with your purr when he moans.
"What are-" He neck nearly snaps to look at you, a shiver raking his body and another moan escaping him as you squeeze the head of his cock, your skin like ice yet it makes him burn with arousal.
"Watch." You order and turn his head with your free hand so his eyes are back on the screen. You don't know why he's watching a fake 'you' mate when he could just ask you, but you know one thing; the person on the screen is competition, and by the way you roughly stroke his cock until he's whining and leaking like a tap, Gaz can tell— you don't like competition.
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Imagine PRICE — He never imagined he'd need to have 'the talk' with a god; sure, you may understand how sex works, but you're hopeless in understanding the nuances of it all. If someone doesn't directly say 'let's fuck' you assume any touches from them, even groping, is just them being friendly. It makes his blood boil, seeing you be taken advantage of like that.
Imagine; You're in the bar with the boys and Price is a couple of drinks in when he sees being felt up by a stranger and you're oblivious to his advances. A green eyed monster nips at Price's heels and he doesn't notice when he puts himself next to you, 'accidentally' shoving the other guy back with just his bulk. His presence, his demeanor, and the few harsh words spoken in a clipped tone has the other guy scampering off.
He doesn't remember much after that, only the way you'd looked at him — with the intensity of a ravenous void, like he was a bright star you wanted to devour.
What wakes him isn't his clock, but the rays of sunlight gently streaming through the curtains. He groans as he registers the awful ache behind his eyes before he even has a chance to open them. He feels his bed shift and his eyes snap open automatically, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you laying on your side as you stare at him.
"Jesus!" He jumps up, nearly topples over from the sudden vertigo but your steady hand on his shoulder keeps him upright, making him realize he's nude.
"He's not here." You shrug and as you sit up his sheets pool around your waist, making him realize you're naked from the waist up, though he doesn't want to think if you're naked naked. His fists clench when his eyes roam over your exposed body against his will, settling on the various hickeys decorating your shoulders and neck.
His heart sinks. "What…what happened last night?" He asks and doesn't want to know the answer, his stomach churns with shame.
"Oh, uh, you got drunk, I got you home, you started kissing and biting me." You say, tracing the numerous hickeys and indents of his teeth across your human form like they're medals. "Then you pulled me into your bed and wouldn't let me go. Then you passed out." You say as if nothing's wrong, and even if no sex happened it's little consolidation to the fact he took advantage of you.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks as he takes a shaky breath, shoulders hunched up around his ears and eyes downcast, bile burning in his stomach.
"Why would I?" You tilt your head and shift positions to face him fully, the sheets falling away to reveal you are naked naked. "I may not understand you fully, but I would have stopped you if you did something I didn't want."
Price hates himself for how he can't tear his eyes away from your body. "But you let me." He insists and tries to get you to see reason, to be as angry and disgusted with him as he is with himself.
“Yes.” You are growing annoyed as well, silently cursing the frailty of the human mind; things would be easier to explain if you could just use mental communication… “You are less than insects to my kin.” You sigh and move to straddle him before he can get away, pinning him under you. “You are a sun to me.”
Even calling him a sun doesn’t do him justice; suns die out like firecrackers when your immeasurable body passes over them, when you devour them, him, you want to keep, to protect, to wrap in your cold abyss until he’s warm and safe.
He sucks in a breath, the gears in his head turning as he tries to understand. “What?-”
“Can I touch you?” You ask, your hands respectfully on your thighs as if you’re not pinning him in place with your weight. There’s a dark intelligence in your eyes, the same ravenous void staring at him behind the black of your eyes. You are not a child, you are a god.
"Why?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he breathes in your smell, the scent of dying stars and burn ozone tickling his lungs. "You don't have to." He says weakly, because what would anyone, god or not, want with him?
"You left marks on me, I want to do the same." The way you say it makes him think of godhood; not the bleak madness you are, but the type humanity romanticizes. Your lips part as if you're thinking of marking him, bits of oblivion staring back at him from the darkness of your throat when he looks too closely at your mouth.
He submits so fast. "C'mere then," He pulls you close by your head, kissing you like he's trying to steal your ichor, his body burning hot when your hands grip him tight enough to leave moon shaped bruises in his skin — the first of many you intend to give him, until you've marked him as yours and yours alone.
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Imagine GHOST — Ghost prefers to show you rather than spend hours trying to explain things to you, he's more stricter with you when you try to do things you're told not to, both for your and everyone's safety. You never do quite learn.
Imagine; Ghost recently confiscated your phone when you tried to see what humans thought about you, or what they imagined you and your kin to be, on a website called 'Rule34'. Ghost had snatched the phone out of your hands before you could even click the link. After a week he gave you the go ahead to take it back, but got called to run a drill so just said to go find it.
Now, you've been told not to go rooting around other people's belongings, but while searching for your phone you'd fallen back into your old habit and snooped around until you found a small box in the bottom of his dresser. Thinking nothing of it you opened it and found…something. A lot of somethings; handcuffs, rope, weird egg shaped thing, a weird tube with a hole in it that squished like a stress toy but had a cunt molded at one end, but what drew your attention — was the dismembered black cock in the middle of the box.
You and all of your kin scratched your collective heads over the thing you now held in your hand, you'd been under the impression humans didn't carry around body parts anymore so you were stumped why Ghost had a dismembered dick and balls in his dresser. Besides the pitch black color and flat base it looked so realistic and the way it flopped when you turned it in your hand made you feel the same way humans did when seeing you.
So you got up and wen to ask Ghost about it, the thing held out in your hand when you found him with the rest of the boys. "Ghost, why do you a have body part in your closet?"
Your question made them all turn to look at you, Ghost made a strange sound like a strangled dog while Gaz and Soap fell over laughing and Price shielded his eyes with the rim of his hat.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He snarls and before you know it he’s stomping over to you and dragging you by the front of your clothes, “What I tell you about snooping?”
“I couldn’t find my phone,” You try to argue but don’t struggle and just let him drag you somewhere like you're a kitten until you find yourself in his room with the door firmly locked behind him.
"Right." His tone makes it sound like he doesn't believe you, his rough hand pushes you down on his bed and he yanks the thing from your hold. “You want to know what this is for?” He asks and holds the the cock with the head pointed at you like a knife.
You nod your head and try to rise up but he pushes you back down, you're not even sure where he gets the handcuffs from but there's cold steel around your wrists before you can notice it. It's his order to "Sit and watch." that actually keeps you down, and you see the corners of his eyes shift to denote a smirk. "Do what you're good at."
You don't blink as you watch him disrobe until he's only wearing his mask, and your surprise is obvious when he sticks the thing on the floor and it stays up right. "This," He growls and sinks to his knees on the floor, a towel under him, "Is a fuckin' dildo." He reaches over and takes a small tube, squirting viscous liquid on his fingers. "You don't ever take it out of my room. Got it."
He leaves no room to argue and you rapidly nod your head. You find yourself breathless as you watch him reach behind himself and you don’t even notice how a bit of your oblivion leaks from your pores and spreads across the ground like spiderwebs, eyes blooming in the small pools all around him so you can see the way he roughly pushes a finger into himself, your hands clenching as his rim flutters around his large fingers.
"What is it for?" You find your voice, the sound ringing like the inside of a dead star the longer you watch him roughly stretch himself, pushing two then three fingers into his ass.
"Fun," He chuckles and feels so powerful when your eyes have all but turned black with hunger you've yet to notice. "It's a toy, for adults." He pulls his fingers out and squirts more liquid on the dildo, before sinking down on the toy in one fluid move that leaves him hissing at the stretch, his rim fluttering around the thick base.
Something about the way the toy is of a similar color to your real body has you wriggling beneath your human skin, the air vibrating as you groan and try to reach out to him, wanting to cover him in your body and have all of him feel all of you.
"No." Just one word has you sitting back on the bed like a dog, a pitiful sound rumbling across the void as you can do nothing but watch. "This is what you get for snooping." He's so smug with the way he has such control over you without even touching you, his thick thighs tensing as he slowly bounces on the dildo, "Now watch. Maybe if you're good I'll let you touch me."
You'll do whatever he says so long as you get to feel him.
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drdemonprince · 4 months ago
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I know so many people who are certain the world is about to end. They’ve felt this way since about 2016 or so. They are neurotic and unempowered, refreshing their Twitter feeds and making posts begging others to stay worried and go vote. 
Some of them are leftists, and say they wish to see an end to capitalism, perhaps even to America — but when the possibility starts actually feeling real to them, they fear crime, and chaos, and their own helplessness. They joke uneasily that we live in “The Bad Place” but they are too afraid to get to the good one. They don’t want to see an end to their quiet street corner, their cozy condominium, their favorite television shows on streaming, their door with a lock. They admit this world is hell but they try to claim their own corner of it and keep it comfortable. 
I’ve been in the exact mental spot as these people, so I don’t mean to make myself sound superior. For the longest time, all I wanted to do was find a few comforting distractions to get me through the years before my death. I went to bed with my stomach in knots, certain that one day the power grid would go dark, the water would stop flowing, and the fascists would march in the streets and no one would stop them. 
Back then I didn’t fantasize that I would do anything to stop them. I picture things differently now. 
I used to think that voting and calling representatives were my only avenues for political participation, but now I see that with every choice I am not merely voting for a better world, I am creating it. When I fund a friend’s jaw surgery, when I look an unhoused person in the eyes and ask them how they are doing, when I slow my walking speed, when I share my knowledge, I am making decisions about how the future will be. I am not powerless. I am small, and vulnerable, but I always have something to give. 
I think that when we are feeling powerless and afraid of the collapse, it’s helpful to shift our attention toward practical, empowering questions like these:
If the government collapsed today, what would I do tomorrow?
The End of the World is a big, frightening abstraction. But if some terrible disaster (or glorious revolution) were to happen today, all I’d have to do tomorrow is make a few basic decisions. What would I eat? Where would I sleep? Who would I contact first? 
At the end of the world there are still dirty clothes and rumbling bellies. Those pressing physical needs are the most immediate questions we will need to answer, not larger philosophical quandaries about what life is “for,” or what the ideal new political system should be. For those more essential questions, there will always be answers: canned food to gather, lakes to wash off in, stories to be traded across candlelight. 
The future that we expect is just a fiction we tell ourselves, and it has never been guaranteed. And so, when some dramatic change comes, we can focus not on the loss of certainty, but on the practicalities: finding shelter, getting fed, and keeping the people around us as safe as we can. This is already what life is about — and we’re all more practiced in survival than we might think. 
If the world as I know it ended, what would still be important to me?
Hitting my weekly wordcount goals wouldn’t matter at all anymore, I know that much. But in the wake of a terrible collapse I would still value my friends, my immediate family, my chinchilla, and the people I see every day. I wouldn’t be so fixated on never seeming ‘awkward’ or ‘creepy’; the moment disaster happened, I would just get over myself and knock on my neighbors’ doors. 
If the world ended, I’d stop caring about my appearance, but I’d still long for a mode of self-expression like fashion currently provides. I wouldn’t think of my writing “career,” but I’d still want to be heard. I can imagine myself giving a small speech to my neighbors, trying to persuade them to take whatever course of action I thought best. I would be wrong often and not always persuasive, but I would still get to express myself and witness how that expression influences the world. I’d take care of more animals. I’d worry less about my apartment getting banged up and wrecked. 
It’s worthwhile to contemplate the people we will become after capitalism. The rhythms of our lives will change, as will our priorities. We may harbor fears about all that may be lost, but it’s worth asking whether our possessions and favorite TV shows and Twitch streamers are really all that important. I often find myself looking forward to the person I could become in this new reality. And those thoughts often motivate me to make small changes in who I am and what I prioritize right now.
The full essay also contemplates these questions about the apocalypse:
What would I feel unburdened from?
What important work would I keep doing?
What skills do I have that people will always need? 
What help would I ask for? 
You can read the full piece for free, or have it narrated to you in the Substack app, right here.
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cocoreallylovesraiden · 9 months ago
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How MK1 characters sleep with their S/O (liu kang, bi han, kung lao, raiden, shang tsung)
This is very casual and nonsensical but pointless useless headcanons give me life sorry; I might do this for other characters but idk which oops
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Liu Kang
- I am in-between the idea of him needing sleep at all (being a god and all), but either way I think he would be in bed with them to spend time together.
- Mattress hard like a rock, so you’d be better off laying on top of him for any kind of soft squishy comfort.
- Likes the physical pressure on being laid on, would secure you in place with a hand on the small of your back, or cradling you closer if you lay your head in his chest.
- During the summer months he would be too hot to comfortably lay on, so either he just longingly stares at you back (rip) or holds your hand in the middle of the bed.
- Wakes up/ gets out of bed at the asscrack of dawn and folds the spare blanket next to you so its like he’s still there… and then becomes annoyed that you’d rather cuddle the blanket than wake up and see him.
- Laughs at you when you want to buy more western soft pillows or fluffy blankets, but he gets them anyways and then now HE can’t sleep bc it’s weirdly soft.
- Will read as you sleep in his arms, and has resorted to using your unconscious elbows to flip the page bc his hands are being held hostage.
- Likes to watch you as you sleep and tries not to smile when you twitch from a dream, even when you drool onto the pillows; is content to do so until sunrise.
- Sometimes tho in the middle of the night when you roll over you just see two military grade flashlight beacons glowing in the dark staring at you like an eldritch monster.
- “Hello, dearest 😊.”
- He says, like you didn’t almost piss the bed in fear.
Bi Han
- Has a meticulous string of tasks and duties he must fulfil before he can even think of getting into bed, and he still manages to be under the covers same time every night.
- Becomes VERY cranky if you are not in bed with him within 15 minutes and when you eventually settle into bed, his back is turned towards you and he huffs like a dramatic housewife.
- Self-assigned big spoon (non-negotiable) and loves resting his face in the crook of your neck, his favourite way to rest after a long day. He isn’t the best with words (in terms of emotional vulnerability) and uses little actions to let you know how he feels.
- His hair gets EVERYWHERE. It’s in his mouth. It’s in YOUR mouth. If you have long hair, have fun waking up 20 minutes earlier to sleepily untangle your newfound spiderweb of human hair.
- Doesn’t toss and turn and is a very light sleeper- it’s required of his job. At the smallest sound his eyes are open, and he cannot rest until he’s gone and checked the locks and such.
- You know when Asian dads wake up at 4am and just go hack and cough in the bathroom yeah that’s him… that’s how YOU wake up.
- You both look like hot fucking garbage in the morning it constantly looks you both are two struggling new parents who had a metaphorical baby keeping them up all night.
- Debates smothering you with a pillow if you snore and keep him up before a busy day.
Kung Lao
- I hope you’re a heavy sleeper.
- His snoring sounds like sails ripping, it’s so loud he scares himself awake sometimes.
- “BABE WHAT WAS THAT?”
- You girl….
- Doesn’t matter what season it is, what temperate, you two are always still too hot and on the verge of breaking into sweat, even after you’re dressed down to just underwear.
- Maybe you fall asleep a safe distance away from him, but halfway through the night its like looking an abstract painting of human limbs, his foot is on your stomach and your face is smashed against his knees. Chiropractors are scared of you two.
- You both complain about how annoying the other person is to sleep next to, but can’t sleep alone at night- the bed feels too big or too cold.
- It’s like when you wake up from a nap not knowing what country you’re in, drenched in sweat and covered in those red lines but every morning.
- Talks in his sleep and you have several videos in your camera roll having incoherent conversations with sleepy Lao.
- “Hey baby… Are you asleep?” “Not now babe imgndh tm running for presdidentnt”
- Yeah king you do that!
- He SWEARS that he’s a big spoon but likes being the little tiny eeny weeny teaspoon looks at you with the ugly goo goo gaga eyes until you relent and wrap your arms around his waist.
Raiden
- I don’t care unless it’s past a certain time in your relationship he will sleep on the couch or DIE
- He is traditional to an almost irritating extent YOU WILL NOT DIE IF YOU SEE MY UPPER THIGH OH MY GOD
- But let me tell you once y’all do share a sleeping space its over for you… He uses that farmer strength to squeeze the life out of you. Like Kung Lao where you fall asleep laying next to him and wake up in the alligator death roll fighting to breathe.
- Death by beefy man arms sounds great until you need to pee and have to scrap at 6am against an unconscious man (he is winning).
- Likes it when you nuzzle under his chin, but when he’s really tired, he really just wants to lay on your chest and have you smooth his hair.
- Feels a certain need to be the Bigger Strong Man but secretly wants to be cuddled and babied a little, just doesn’t want to ask for it.
- Doesn’t matter because however you sleep, you’re waking up to that child-holding-their-favourite-teddy-bear GRIP.
- Likes to chat about both your days before falling asleep, and will verbally ask like “are you asleep?” And then stop moving, breathing, thinking because he’s scared to wake you up. You have to smack his face half-awake like RAIDEN YOU CAN BREATHE before he relaxes.
Shang Tsung
- Idgaf if he’s a man and if you’re a woman, he is the girlfriend.
- Wants you to kiss the top of his head and stroke his hair, you can feel his ugly ass smug smile against your skin the entire time.
- Even if he does love you, I can see him being unable to sleep with his back turned to you; he has to be acutely away of what you’re doing (sleeping. Your tired ass is sleeping.)
- Unless of course he’s being the little spoon. Rolling eyes emoji.
- Another very light sleeper, but when he’s deep in sleep he has reoccurring night terrors, and maybe even sleep paralysis, so he clutches you tightly like he’s scared you’ll up and leave him.
- When he wakes up he’s probably frozen, so he grounds himself by listening to your heartbeat or readjusting your hold so it’s tighter and more compressing.
- Doesn’t matter if it’s a big ass bed or stack of pelts on the forest floor, you are not allowed to move a SINGLE INCH away from him. You two occupy 25% of this bed’s real estate.
- If he wakes up first, he is slipping out without a word. If you wake up first and god forbid, try to let him go, his eyes are snapping open and looking at you so judgementally.
- Throws your boots at you if you oversleep like. Wake up you Lug. We have things to do.
- Looks amazing the moment he wakes up and makes fun of you for having bed hair and overall being uglier than he is.
- Pokes your cheek and makes your head loll about if he wakes up first and chuckles at how cute he finds it, catches himself being mushy, then pinches your nose so you wake up.
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nobody-nexus · 4 months ago
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What your fav TADC ship says about you- UPDATED!
-> Note: these are for fun! Do not take any of this seriously<-
Edit: Don't tell me if I missed any ships I'm not updating this
Pomni x Caine: You love the inherent romanticism of being too aware at all times x Being completely unaware of everything at all times
Pomni x Ragatha: You love the idea of someone being so pathetically devoted to another that you can't see them with anyone else
Pomni x Jax: You think the way to someone's heart is insulting before sharing a kiss and a cigarette
Pomni x Gangle: You knew the moment that Pomni was indirectly the reason for Gangle's mask breaking that it was love
Pomni x Zooble: You believe in the inherent romanticism of just not giving a flying fuck anymore but together
Pomni x Loolilalu: You haven't seen episode 2 yet. That or you just want all of the sapphic ships
Pomni x Gummigoo: You are very much into the idea of THE fruitiest straight passing couple of all time
Pomni x Kaufmo: You took that one fact that they would've actually gotten along with each other and ran with it
Pomni x Exit: You came from the Danganronpa fandom
Pomni x Sun: You are into swap AUs. We know the scene. And we know what you are
Ragatha x Jax: I dunno which one you wanna bang, but all I know is that you wanna bang ONE of them
Ragatha x Gangle: You just want them to be happy for ONCE dammit! Also you're probably anhopeless romantic
Ragatha x Loolilalu: You do not CARE if they only had 20 seconds of screen time together, you WANT THEM TO KISS
Ragatha x Kaufmo: You most likely know a couple in real life where one makes jokes and the other is sick of it
Jax x Gangle: You were told that the bully had a crush on you and you still have not recovered from it
Jax x Zooble: You just want a couple who can and will do hijinx together whether they like it or not
Jax x Caine: I got no idea what you're into, but it is one of the straightest gay things I've seen
Jax x Gummigoo: You love the idea of an asshole twink being put in his place. Also you ship Montgomery with Bonnie
Jax x Kaufmo: You believe in the inherent romanticism of two pranksters causing complete mayhem together
Jax x The Fudge: You either are a HUGE crack shipper OR you are into a very SPECIFIC thing and I am judging
Jax x Bubble: There is no way you ship this in a genuine way. You are the master of crack shipping
Gangle x Zooble: There is at least a 70% chance that you have at least one mood board on Pinterest
Gangle x Caine: Apparently, you exist
Gangle x Loolilalu: Oh you definitely have NOT seen episode 2 yet
Kinger x Queenie: Let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. This is the closest to canon y'all are gonna get
Kinger x Caine: You are into yaoi, but like the wholesome kind instead of the super sex kind
Kinger x Gloink Queen: You are a MONSTER FUCKER
Kinger x Kaufmo: You decided that old man yaoi was the true answer to solve abstraction
Caine x Moon: There's a 90% chance that you know and love the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit
Caine x Loolilalu: Your love for any canon interaction is overweighed by the need to fuck GOD
Caine x Gummigoo: You are purely in this community for the bara NSFW. I've seen it all... I KNOW
Sun x Moon: You like Steven Universe
Jax x Pomni x Ragatha: You either couldn't choose which one to ship, or you just wanna be Pomni
Jax x Pomni x Gummigoo: Same as the previous, but the chances of you being straight are way higher
Ragatha x Pomni x Loolilalu: Same as the last two, but the chances of you being a lesbian are way higher
Ragatha x Pomni x Gangle: You love the inherent romanticism of having one big group therapy session
Caine x Pomni x Ragatha: You don't actually ship Caine and Ragatha, you just want Pomni to top em both
Gangle x Jax x Zooble: You are @inkyprism
Sun x Moon x Caine: You just want Caine to have rizz.... He doesn't but whatever floats your boat
Jax x Airplane: You.... Are WAY too deep into this fandom
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billyshakesp · 3 months ago
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One for his Lyctors
Something that will never cease to amaze me is how well TazMuir writes the Lyctors. So I'm making it your problem ;). CW: Spoilers for Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth.
Let's start off by stating the obvious: the Lyctors are old. Whenever I mention "the Lyctors" in this post, I'm referring to Jod's original crew of eight Lyctors, and, more specifically, Augustine the First, Mercymorn the First, Gideon the First, and Cytherea the First. Those four are the ones we have met at the time of writing this. And they are old. They are each ten thousand years old. However, ten thousand is a number which may not mean much to you since you (presumably) have not even reached the age of two hundred. To quickly contextualise how colossal a number ten thousand years is, just remember that written history only extends as far back as five thousand years. In not so many words, my bbygirls are not actually very baby, and are, in fact, fucking ancient.
We, as humans, do not have any living reference for a ten-thousand-year-old being, aside from an occasional tree or a sponge, or perhaps a condiment bottle so deep in the back of your fridge that it would warrant a paleontological dig, but I digress. So how does Muir write her Lyctors so effectively?
Vicious dehumanisation
One of the most striking things about the Lyctors is the dehumanisation they have suffered over the past myriad. The first thing I noticed while diving into this subject (and by diving into, I mean I took a long shower one day and pissed off my family) is that the Lyctors do not have last names, and their first names function more as titles. Furthermore, the Lyctors are referred to as the hands, fingers, and gestures of the Emperor. In short, the readers and the characters of the Locked Tomb, including the Lyctors themselves, don't see the Lyctors as individuals anymore. Rather, their sole purpose in life has been reduced to just a soldier of the Emperor. Muir really shows the effects of the Lyctors' age; they are ancient, to the point where they have lost their own humanity and the only reason for their existence that they still hold onto is to serve the Emperor.
2. Their morals
Are extremely fucked up. Like, I cannot emphasise enough how fucked up the Lyctors are as people. Their morals are twisted in a way which can only come about from ten thousand years, rotting in deep space. For example, G1deon probably makes like 56 attempts on Harrow's life, and he doesn't give a second thought about it. When the other Lyctors find him, they don't really condemn his actions the way a human would expect another human to condemn attempted murder. To the Lyctors, life and death are both abstract concepts: life has lost all its meaning to the Lyctors, and thus, they do not see value in others' lives, especially the life of another Lyctor. Especially the life of a "Half-Lyctor." Additionally, Cytherea's plot to destroy the Nine Houses, while technically noble in its intent, is just insanely messed up. Yet, it makes sense in the context of her being a Lyctor, and, furthermore, someone who has suffered abuse for the last ten thousand years. She wants to bring justice to Jod, and for her, a small genocide is completely insubstantial. These people do not value nor understand life the way a human would, because they are unbelievably old.
3. The ways they break
Every one of the original Lyctors we see has a point in which they break, and when they break, we see a glimpse of the humanity peeking through. I could do character analysis on all of the Lyctors, but that would take a really long time. In short, we, the reader, get to see shreds of the people the Lyctors once were, and yet this only demonstrates just how shattered they are under the inexorable weight of time (yes, I use inexorable excessively now that I've read these books). Muir feeds us these pieces of the Lyctors' former selves to show just how buried that former self is.
In short, Muir does such a good job writing her Lyctors. They really are some of the most beautifully tragic characters I've ever read. I'm really just compiling some of the elements which I think Muir used to achieve the effect of "this character is bloody ancient." Feel free to add anything you feel that I missed (and I'm sure I missed a lot of stuff), and thanks for reading!
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lani-heart · 5 months ago
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.3k
abstract -> healing takes time...
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y/n’s perspective
“His memories are still all over the place, it could be a trauma response that his brain has blocked him out from,” Doyoung said and I knew at this point this was true. 
“We’ll have checkups every few months but amnesia isn’t always a happy ending,” he said and I nodded as I was led out to the waiting room.
“You really tied your own hands up when you adopted troublesome hybrids' ' I heard and I turned around to see Chenle. I smiled… “I don’t regret getting them, I love them a lot. They also make me happy. '' I said and he chuckled. “I guess that's all that matters' ' he said and I nodded. 
“I remember how upset you were… with the whole break up,” he said and I sighed. 
“Doesn’t matter anymore… it's almost been a year anyway” I said and he chuckled. “You’ve been busy even after starting a book after so long. I heard he got a hybrid, too though? Something about his family taking in the mother of his family’s hybrid?” he said. He didn’t even like hybrids…
“Here she is” I heard and I saw Jaemin with San. “Take care of yourself,” Chenle said and I nodded as I took San. “How was it?” I asked and he looped his arm with mine as we walked down the street. 
“Find… all the memories I don't remember… is it better if I stop wanting to remember them?” he asked while looking down. 
“Why don’t we find somewhere to eat huh?”
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san’s perspective
She took me to a cafe I think I heard Wooyoung talk about. It seemed familiar. She ordered us some food and he stared at me for a while before she decided to speak. 
“You know… you always wanted to come here?” she asked and I was shocked. “Really? Why… did I never come?” I asked and she gave me that sad smile she’s been giving me recently. “Look at the door,” she said and I did… What was so special? 
“It has a bell,” she said and I looked at her confused. “You used to not be able to stand the sound of bells… it caused a negative trigger” she explained. “I know you said I was in a hybrid ring where they made hybrids kill each other… Was I a bad guy?” I asked worriedly and she smiled. 
“No… you’re the sweetest hybrid I could ask for '' she said and I was relieved that she said so but something that didn’t stop haunting me suddenly resurfaced. “Then why did I hurt you?” I asked and she sighed.
“Because you hate humans and what they did to you. You thought I'd be the same” she explained, but I shook my head. “I feel comfortable with you though… I love being around you, why would I ever…” I trailed off feeling my vision start to blur. 
“Here’s your food” I heard as the waiter put our food in front of us. An iced tea and chocolate pancakes… “You really liked chocolate I found out… but if you don’t like it I'll–” “Thank you… you seem to know so much about me” I said and she smiled. 
“I like to think I do,” she said with a soft smile and I nodded. “I’m just sad… I don’t remember much about you. I just know how I feel” I confessed and she nodded. “Well, who says you can’t ask me again?” she asked and I couldn’t help but smile. 
“You’re so patient… thank you,” I said and she nodded. “Always”
I know all of the hybrids back home hate humans. Wooyoung was abandoned and called annoying or anything similar all his life besides when with her. He’s known her the longest and we’ve been friends since we met. Yeosang absolutely hates the higher class… but is insanely involved with her. I know the tigers were abused all their lives to perform dangerous stunts. 
Not all humans were the same… she was really kind. I know I could trust her with anything and have never felt unsafe since returning with her. 
I also know I made her my mate… I was her first hybrid. I belonged by her side. 
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As we made it to the apartment I decided to ask… 
“So should I just stop trying to remember everything?” I asked and she sighed. “One time you told me… you wish to forget everything that used to make you sad or angry. So… it’s your choice and whatever choice you choose I'll still be here” she said and I nodded. 
“y/nie! Sannie!” I heard Wooyoung as he talked to me in a hug. “Everything is okay Wooyoung. I brought some food” she said. She mentioned that if she was getting food for me she’d have to get it for everyone… She truly cared for everyone. 
I know I hurt her… but that didn’t make her scared of me. I’ve seen how her friends look at me and the orange tigers… but she always seems to reassure me. 
While Wooyoung called for everyone, I decided to pull aside the tiger… “Can we talk?” I asked and his eyes shook but nodded. He avoided me more than everyone else. Even the white tiger made an effort to befriend me.
“Are you alright?” he asked and I nodded. “I don’t remember much but I feel annoyed by you…” I said and he nodded, not surprised. “Can… we get along?” I asked and his eyes widened with his tail suddenly twitching, catching him by surprise.
“Why all of a sudden?” he asked and I sighed. “She… she seemed to forgive me for hurting her and I know she also forgave you. I wanted to try following her example” I said and he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me. What I did–” “Was just as bad as me apparently… I don’t remember much but I do remember hurting her. We both were wrong about her huh?” I asked and he nodded. 
“I will never forgive myself for what I did,” he said and I chuckled. “Neither will I,” I confessed. 
“Can you make me a promise?” I asked and he nodded eagerly. “I know you try your best to protect so please… When I'm not by her side and I'm often not, I don't like leaving the apartment. Please continue to protect her” I asked and he smiled.
“You didn’t have to ask that,” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, hyung!”
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y/n’s perspective 
The panther was more cuddly than usual. He was already asleep, hugging me in his sleep when I heard a knock. 
“Come in,” I said and I saw Hongjoong. “Need anything?” I asked and he laughed. “I don’t think you can offer anything while trapped by San,” he said and I noticed slowly he started calling everyone by their name. Not panther… nor doberman… nor fox. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung he’s been calling them.
“He seems to be getting better,” Hongjoong said and I nodded. “I’m glad he is… he’s more energetic too,” I said and he chuckled.
“He forgave me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen and even a smile grow on my face. “I know… he’s okay,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “You and Seonghwa are getting along with everyone… I’m glad” I said and he nodded. 
“Thank you… truly for adopting s even though I’m trouble” he said and I offered a smile. “I’m glad… I enjoy the chaos” I said and he smiled. His tail swished back and forth happily. 
“I did have a request though,” he said. “Anything,” I said and he chuckled. 
“Well… now that Wooyoung is in the process of moving into San’s room… could I possibly get my own room?”
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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zoropookie · 6 months ago
Text
HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)
♡ chapter thirty-three — give it time (💋)
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“I’ll admit, you made it look like a home.”
You looked around, enamored by the mutable blend of the other’s home. There was oddly a cozy charm that bled in the space, a mixture of contrasts that you wouldn’t have thought he would involve himself with.
There were soft shadows playing against the walls, promenaded by the warm and golden glow of the lamps. It was really elegant in here, yet, meticulously chosen to make you feel comfortable enough to sit down on the obviously expensive furniture.
“Didn’t know you had a…knack for interior design either.” You said hesitantly, looking at a very abstract tiny statue of a triangle on one of the shelves. Even thought you were interested, it still just felt like a painted on canvas for you. Kind of like...the idea that there can be paint on a canvas, but it doesn't make it a painting. "Learning a lot more about you everyday."
"It wasn't my idea," He sighed. "I told the interior designer 'not too many colors', and I guess she thought I was talking about completely mute."
"Feels like a sanctuary," you murmured.
Despite the dismissive words he gave you, the effort that was put into everything was clearly crafted and corroborated. You walked over to the books sitting on the coffee table, the only things out of place from the rest of the textures, reading the hard cover and smiling.
"You're really considering it?" You asked, to which Kuni turned towards you, "Taking care of the orchard outside."
He shrugged, his eyes moving back to making tea in the kitchen. "I don't have a choice. It's either me who does it, or it dies."
"That's not true, you can always pay someone to do it for you. I know there's a lot of people who may want it for themselves, it's completely healthy." You rambled, trying to see it through the long windows. "I take it that was a housewarming gift too?"
"From Furina. Came with the house, thought it'd be funny to see me struggle with something mundane."
"I heard," You grinned, not being able to keep your laugh in. "Love that for you, it's like a package deal! Did it work?"
He sighed again, running a hand through his hair at the thought. "I guess, I don't know," He started pour the tea once the pot began to steam. "I know her goal was to drive me insane. A constant reminder that no matter how far I try to distance myself from complications, they find a way to root themselves in my life."
"Hey, I wouldn't see it as that." You chuckled, the sound mixing with the soft clinking of the ceramic cups he was setting on the table. "It's probably just a way to keep you grounded after everything."
"I don't see the appeal in tending to trees."
"Maybe it's not even about that," You mused. "Maybe it's just about finding a healthy medium in your life, don't suppose you had that before, right?" You said, teasingly.
He rolled his eyes at you, a humored smile tugging at his lips. "You're one to preach about silver linings."
Your jaw dropped, a small scoff coming from your mouth. "I actually came here to truce, thank you very much. Even though you're the one who tried to run away from me — news flash, didn't work, genius. Still pissed off about that. I'm glad that Furina is looking to help you as much as she's looking to out you."
"Running away is my thing." He squinted playfully, "Like she's big help anyway. The only reason she's in on it is because she wants us to have this romance trope going on for real this time. It's stupid as fuck."
You paused at his words, feeling yourself swallow a big lump some of the tea nestled in your mouth. You shivered at the heat that washed on you, pursing your lips in thought as you let the conversation simmer. The two of you standing in a companionable silence. The trees outside rustled gently in the breeze, their leaves a vibrant contrast to the muted tones inside.
"I mean, I don't know," You paused, cringing as your fingers tightened on your cup. "I don't think it's stupid."
Kuni stiffened too, gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. There was a certain look that you've never seen before from him. You couldn't decipher his actual feelings. "I figured."
Your cheeks flushed. "Holy shit, never mind if you were expecting it already." You hissed to yourself, trying to ebb how much embarrassment was on your skin. "Look, I need to check into my hotel soon—"
"Sit down." He cut you off, assertiveness in his tone enough to get you to immediately listen, plopping back down. There was an unexpected gravity that was with him, another departure from his nonchalant attitude.
Your heart hammered rapid fire in your chest, a mix of fear and total apprehension were doing a waltz on your general disposition. The more time you were here, the more you worried about the next time you'll make an absolute fucking fool of yourself. You fidgeted with your fingers.
"What really brought you here." He asked, expectantly. "First thing you give me is a hug, and some words of affirmation. You're not here just to catch up, especially after I blew you off."
"I wanted to see you again." You admitted, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. "You owned up to it, left your part of the Internet in a spiral, and then didn't bother to talk to me after that."
He was looking at you, you sensed it. And it wasn't like you could look at him back, otherwise you were going to melt. It was different seeing him from up close, it was an original experience to you if you could name it anything.
His eyes were searching you, despite all you said, as if trying to decipher if you were being genuine. His eyes bored into you like a tiny laser burning your skin. He nodded, a sliver of understanding crossing his face. "You gave me the impression that you were done. I left it at that."
"Yeah, well, I felt like the only one who could leave it at anything was me."
Despite how sticky and tense it was again, you felt relieved that he wasn't as malicious as he was behind the screen. You were relieved that at least the worst of it was over. But it didn't didn't help the burning in your chest, the aching of the bubble in your throat. "Ei really made you do all that stuff? It's not because you really do hate me, right?"
There was no more pretending anymore, no more hiding behind false bravado or dissing each other behind screens like pussies. It was only raw honesty, vulnerable and exposed.
"(Y/N)." His expression softened, a silent dilemma clear on his face. He gathered his own courage, squaring his shoulders a bit and looking at you again. "I'm sorry."
You felt dazed, electricity in the air around you, the world officially tilted on its axis to you. "What?" You accentuated snippier than you intended.
"You were collateral. Nothing that you did deserved what happened to you. Makes sense that you did what you did, you weren't the problem." He explained, shoulders slumped again. "I was behind what I did, at the end of the day; Ei just told me to do it. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you couldn't bounce back. I know if the situation were different, I'd leave you alone."
People kept saying that to you these days, that nothing that happened was because you deserved it. Maybe you never quite got the picture until Kuni said something along the lines of it. You never thought that him apologizing to you would garner the oddest reaction out of you.
Because why was it sexy..? Stop.
"And," He sighed, grabbing your attention lightspeed again. "I would consider liking you more if this all didn't happen. You're alright."
His admission of everything was catching you off guard left and right. You had no idea what to feel with the prominent knot in your stomach. "Do you like me?" "(Y/N), I don't want to—"
"I'm alright, in your words, but do you like me?" Your tone solidified with each word slowly jutting out, assertiveness hardening your composure. "Tell me. Look at me and tell me."
The uncertainly stretched on for what was practically indefinitely. He held his breath, as did you, waiting for his response. Your heart was ruthless against you, beating against your body. He sized you up, seeking an answer for himself.
"...Yeah?" He admitted, voice barely audible as he tried to find his own words. But everything he did think of was so unlike him, out of his personal way of handling things like this. "Yeah. I do."
You blinked, both of your eye contact filling a certain, more romantic space that neither of you even thought was there before today. But the more you realized it, the more you realized that maybe the sexual tension was always there.
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previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next
YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.
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